Afterwards I sat on the couch trying to digest what had happened. Some facts were obvious. One, Don’s sister was a bitch. She had trained him. Two, I was now a bitch. Three, there was no going back. I had loved being taken and I wanted more. But I had to be careful. Don couldn’t know, even suspect. My future pleasure relied on secrecy. I decided on a time-table. One time with Rex only when I felt like it. Cover the carpet with a towel or something. No stains on the carpet. That sounded like a sensible plan. Of course I didn’t always stick to it. I realised that Rex’s power of recovery was fast. I also realised that one time was often not enough. I also realised that I felt like it every day.
So here we are three months later. I don’t bother Don for sex anymore. Rex takes care of my needs. It is not unusual to give myself to him twice (three times several times) in an afternoon. Don has no idea and, in fact, I don’t think he cares that he isn’t getting any sex. And, yes, the sight of a woman sucking a dog’s cock was shocking to me but now I often enjoy it. I don’t think Rex enjoys it but laying under him suck that lovely big cock while I masturbate is the highlight of my day. My sexual frustration is but a memory.
Leave a Reply