David Crane

The wife_s doggy position

CHAPTER ONE

"My husband caught me fucking a dog."

Molly's mouth dropped open in amazement when Carla said that and, having said it, Carla blushed. Carla had recently been divorced, and Molly had asked her why her marriage had come unstuck. Molly was truly shocked by the woman's answer, and Carla was surprised at herself for having said it.

The two young women were having a drink at a table in a cocktail lounge. Just as Carla made her admission, the jukebox stopped playing, and there was a dead silence. It seemed as if everyone in the room must have heard her remarkable statement. For a long moment, the two girls just stared at each other. But no one else had turned to gape at them and, a moment later, another loud tune started to blare from the jukebox.

"I guess I shouldn't have told you that," Carla said.

"I… no, I'm not… well, I mean…" Molly stammered, not knowing how to respond.

Carla gave a little shrug. "Well, it's true."

"Really? A dog?"

"Yeah. A collie. It wasn't our dog, actually. We didn't own a dog. It belonged to the neighbors. But it used to come into our backyard sometimes and… well, I got carried away. I don't suppose that you've ever fucked a dog?"

Molly shook her head.

Carla continued: "Anyhow, I wanted that dog! I called him into the house one day, and played with his prick for awhile. Then, after he was nice and big and hard, I got down on my hands and knees… doggy style, you know?" She grinned impishly. "The brute fucked my ass off. After that, he used to come over all the time, whining and scratching at the door. You know how dogs are. If there's some pussy going, they can't get enough of it. So I used to get fucked by this collie two or three times a week. It was nice. But one day, Carl came home unexpectedly and found the dog stuck up me. It was embarrassing, to say the least. And the dog was into the finishing strokes, too, so he couldn't stop and I couldn't stop him. So we just kept right on fucking, with my husband standing there with his mouth hanging open and his eyes popping out like a pair of hard boiled eggs. Then the dog shot his load in me. Carl had a big hard-on, himself, by that time. I tried to apologize. I even tried to claim that the dog had raped me. But Carl wouldn't believe that. He took me to bed and fucked my ass off… then he told me he wanted a divorce. Well, I couldn't very well contest it, could I? I mean, how would I have felt, in court, when a fucking dog was cited as the co-respondent?" Carla giggled. "Imagine a collie taking the witness stand? The lawyer would say: 'And did you have carnal knowledge of the accused?' And the fucking dumb dog would say: 'Woof!' So Carl got his divorce. Actually, it didn't bother me very much. I was getting kind of sick of Carl, anyhow… and the dog was a better fuck, besides."