Wednesday, June 25, 2014

BBC's.

       I've been emailing with a woman.


       She responded to my post, and we've been exchanging pics.  Hannah.  She's straight and has a boyfriend, but he seems to like the fact that we are corresponding.  I've given my permission to show him my pics, but I'm not here for a threesome.  I've said that several times, now.  Apparently, he really likes white girls, though, and she keeps asking me if I like BBC's.  I ignore it, mostly because I'm not sure what she means by that.
       No, I put out a post for a woman only, for a night of passion.  Hannah reassures me that her boyfriend will not involved in our little get-together.  I say, "Great," and we book a date.

            I live with a roommate, so we decide to meet at her place.  I text her when I'm close, and she tells me the final directions.  I ring the buzzer, and Hannah opens the door, looking at fantastic as ever.  Even better than I could've imagined.
      Her tits are massive, and I can see the gorgeous round things easily, even though she's wearing what appears to be her boyfriend's baggy t-shirt.  Shockingly tiny waist, hips, and butt, making me wonder how she doesn't fall over from top-heaviness.  A very youthful, delicate face with a tapering chin, a fair complexion, and curly brown hair that falls past her shoulders.  It's slightly wet at the tips; she must have just showered.
      "Karen!" She almost sings, reaching towards me for a hug.  "So nice to meet you!" She presses her upper body against me momentarily, and her breasts feel practically boyant.
      "Oh my gosh, you too!"  I say with equal enthusiasm.  I was right; she smells fresh and flowery, like morning dew.  Makes me want to get my mouth on her.
      "Please, come in!"  She says, welcoming me into the space.  It's lived in and cozy; she picks up her wet towel from the floor as we pass by it.
      "So, you found it alright?  Let me give you the tour."  Other than the room we're standing in, there isn't much; but she shows me the substandard washroom, a tiny kitchen, and takes me toward what can only be the bedroom.  She opens the door, revealing her boyfriend John sitting on the bed.  He's quite muscular, his dark skin glistens of the bedroom lamp, and his look is expectant.
       "Uhh, hello," I manage.
       "Hey," he barely gets out before Hannah interrupts him.
       "Don't worry, he was just leaving."
       "Oh.  Whew!"  I say, in exaggerated relief.  "Sorry, just didn't expect to meet you."
       "Oh yeah, I was on my way out, but wanted to say hi first."
       "And does she live up to your expectations?"  Hannah teases.
       "Haha.  Yes, baby.  Well, three's a crowd.  I'll see you later tonight," he says in his deep baritone, kissing her on the forehead.  We hear him amble through the living room, jingle some keys, and shut the door.

       "Well!  Sorry about that.  He can be a little protective of me."
       "I don't blame him.  I wouldn't let you get away, if you were my girlfriend."
       "Haha... A drink?"  She asks nervously.  She told me in our correspondence that she hasn't been with a woman before.
       "I don't need one, but I don't mind if you need some liquid courage," I wink.
       "Right.  One minute."  She takes a little long, so I decide to remove some clothing while I wait.  I wore a matching bra and thong set for the occasion.  God, I can't wait to get my hands on those tits.  I take a seat on the wobbly bed.

       "Here I am!  Sorry to keep you wait... Wow.  Helloooo!"  I laugh at her tipsy cuteness.  She takes a final swig on her beverage, places it in the dresser, and joins me on the end of the bed.
       "Why don't I help you out of those clothes?"  I ask.
       "Mmmm.  Sure."  Hannah raises her arms, and I slowly peel the shirt off of her.  To my surprise and delight, she's wearing a sport bra.  Her two delicious breasts are squished together inside of it.  Probably to minimize the look of them.  Or because a real bra would dig into her shoulders with tits that enormous.  To be honest, I've never been with a girl with boobs this big.  Usually I go for women with a more athletic body type.
       I rub them through the bra with one hand, and I feel the nipples instantly harden.  I have her stand to unclasp the belt of her jeans; her waist is so tiny, she almost has to loop it around twice.  I unbutton the fly, and the pants slip easily over her small hips, dropping to the floor.  She giggles, perhaps out of embarrassment, and her tits shake a bit.
      "Mmmm," I moan, lusting after the sight of her in her full cotton underwear.  The bra and panties are so demure, along with the men's t-shirt she had on, despite the overt sexiness of her body.  It almost makes her more desirable, the fact that she hides her dynamite figure.  And, that you can still see it through all of her efforts.  Her body just begs to be fucked.
       I pull her small hips towards me, between my open knees, and I put my mouth on her tits, licking the nipples through the thin material of her sports bra.  Her head falls back in pleasure.  I kiss her flat stomach, her tiny waist, and I pull her underwear down to allow me access to her hips.  I hungrily kiss them, letting one hand drift around to her butt.  The other lightly touches the groomed patch of hair above her pussy.  I massage the outside of it, placing pressure on it as I continue to draw wet marks all over bra with my tongue.
      I stand to meet her small mouth, gathering the dark mass of curly hair in my hands as I give her my tongue.  She moans as I brush the hair back from her face and neck, so I take the cue, and suck on her neck awhile.  Then, I hear something.

      A creaking floor?  Does someone live above them?  No matter.  I'm about to lick her sweet pussy.
      I practically throw her onto the bed; she must weigh ninety pounds, and all boobs.  I remove my own bra and thong, and she laughs in anticipation.  She sits up to remove her sports bra, and her tits finally emerge.  Perfectly round, with large, pale pink areoles and tiny nipples.  They move around like sentient beings, being large enough to house a brain in each one.
      I crawl towards her, and she grabs a pillow for her head, and lays back, getting comfortable.  Her gorgeous breasts fall slightly to the side.  Before I begin, I can't help myself but grab them in my hands, shaking them, massaging them, and playfully batting them around.  She pinches the nipples between her fingers, and her head tilts back, eyes closed.  I kneel on the bed, my ass in the air, and take her legs in my hands, spreading them.  She points her toes as I touch each foot, groping every part of her; now her calves, and thighs.
       Her pussy is as tiny as the rest of her.  Well, except for her massive melons.  A lovely soft pink in colour, with a flowery taste.  Her clit is so minuscule that I have to search for it, even with her legs spread apart in front of me.

       The sound again, but closer.
       Hannah's eyes open momentarily, perhaps hearing it also, but I'm busy devouring her gorgeous clit.  Now that I've found it, I'm not about to let it get away.  Then, I feel something probing my ass.
       I start at the touch, turning to see John's hard black cock behind me. These two have something in common.  Enormous sex organs.
       "Hey!" I say halfheartedly, using my other hand to bat it away.  "You know I'm only here for Hannah."
       "But, I'm here for you," he growls, his deep voice registering power and authority.  "Do you like BBC's?"
       "I do!"  Hannah chimes in, closing her legs and propping herself up on her elbows.  I'm beginning to think that she isn't as innocent as she looks.
       "Big..." I search.
       "Black Cocks," he finishes.
       "Ah.  I've never really had one," I flirt, raising an eyebrow, still on my hands and knees.
       "Would you like to try one out?"  I look at Hannah, who has a satisfied smile on her face.  She certainly got me.
       "Sure," I coo.  "Since I'm here..."

        Hannah repositions herself in front of me, so that I can resume licking her.  As I lower my mouth to her,  I can feel my ass being exposed to John behind me.  I feel his thick cock again, pressing between my cheeks, then touching the wetness at my pussy with the tip of it.  I feel him begin to enter me, and I immediately know that it's the biggest cock I've ever had in my pussy.  He doesn't push it in any more, perhaps feeling it's tightness.  He wiggles it a bit, trying to encourage me to relax around it.  He presses it in a little further, and I moan into Hannah's clit.  I feel myself stretch around it, his hand now reaching below me to rub my wet clit.  He pushes it in even further, and I experience my pussy finally letting him in.  But, I look back, and see that I've barely taken half of it.
        Realizing that it's all I can fit, his hands go to my hips, and he begins to thrust, using my pussy to jerk himself off.  In reality, I'm only bobbing on the tip, but I can feel his big cock completely filling me up, and I already feel the urge to come.  My g-spot has nowhere to hide.  His bulbous head is rubbing up against it, and I feel like I could actually squirt.  I've never done it with a partner before, so I shy away from the feeling, and clench up.
        "Come on baby," he says to me.  Can he feel it?  "Let me in."
        "Ahhh... I can't!"
        "Mmmm, give me that special spot."
        "Oh god!"
        "You know you want to," he breathes.
        "Ahh!  Yes!!"  I release the tension in my pussy, and his cock presses against my g-spot, deep inside me.  I feel the uncontrollable urge to push, and I bear down on his giant black cock.
        "FUCK!!" I scream, as I feel myself squirt all over his dick, down my legs, soaking the bedding.

        He pulls out, and I groan.  My upper half collapses onto the bed.  John grabs Hannah, and gets onto top of her with his massive thing.  He fucks her quickly and harshly, her tits flying about, until he comes into her.  I wonder how her tiny body can take it, but she looks completely satisfied.
        "I'm sorry," I begin.  "I wasn't expecting to..."
        "Mmmm, don't you worry about a thing!"  She says sweetly. "We should be thanking you..."


         "BBC's," I think.  Why didn't I make the connection before?  Well, it's never too late to develop a new interest.
             

Thursday, June 19, 2014

step brother.

       My family doesn't have much shame.


       By that, I mean, we've always been very open with our nudity.  And when my mother remarried, our stepdad and his son just kind of followed suit.  We were still kids at the time; you know, young enough to continue taking showers with your parents.  We'd run around the yard naked, or brazenly burst into our parents' bedroom when they were in a state of undress and hang out on the bed.
       Then, we got older.  We didn't do the shower thing anymore, but we still saw a good amount of each others' naked bodies in the house.  Once, I told a friend about our quasi-nudist lifestyle, and was shocked to realize that other families weren't this way.  She said she had never even seen her mother without her bra on.  I laughed it off like it was joke, but from then on, I realized that my family might be weird.
       It was around that time when I started noticing my step dad and brother's private parts.  I remember my new dad's flaccid penis as an enormous and mysterious thing.  My step brother's was less enviable, but still; he was slightly older than me, and I got the feeling that he knew something about the nebulous world of sex that I didn't.

        One day, when I was almost finished high school, I finally had a friend over.  All these years, we had been very family centred.  Neither my brother or I had much of a social life, not to mention girlfriends or boyfriends.  We're good looking enough, but have never been popular.  In fact, I've always found my step brother Jesse attractive.  He has an olive skin tone that is so unlike my pinkish complexion, and it looks very soft.  Not at all like the pimple faced boys in my grade.  For some reason, I was always nervous to bring someone over to the house.  Well, that day confirmed my worst fears.
        My friend and I are hanging out in my bedroom, where I figured we would be safe from the rest of my potentially embarrassing family.  Suddenly, Jesse is seen at the door's threshold.  Thankfully, he is wearing clothes; a ratty shirt and boxers, but unfortunately, he neglected to close the button on the front of his underwear.  His dick is completely out.  I ignore it, as a coping mechanism.
        "Jesse, I have a friend over.  Go away."
        "Oh.  I was wondering if you wanted to play video games."  In my peripherals, I can see my friend's jaw drop.  She's looked up, and is staring right at it.  I still figure my best option is to pretend it isn't there.
        "Maybe later.  After my friend leaves, ok?"
        "Oh.  Ok.  Hey do you know where..."
        "Jesse!  Later!"
        "Geez.  Ok!"  He raises his hands defensively, and turns to go back to his room.  My friend turns to me, mouth still wide open.
        "What ... the hell!"
        "He's really absentminded like that.  Sorry."
        "Ok ..."
        "He honestly probably didn't even know.  Anyway, let's ..."
        "I should go, actually.  I told my mom I'd be home for dinner."
        "Oh.  Ok.  Sure," I respond sadly, adding, "Please don't tell anyone."  She gives me a concerned, confused look, and descends the stairs to the front door.

         I burst into Jesse's room, fuming.
        "I hate you!  Why are you so weird?!"
        "Ah!  What?  Why am I weird?"
        "You know why!  I hate this family," I say, feeling my throat constrict with emotion.  He pauses, not being great with social cues, probably having no idea what to do.  "I'm never going to get a boyfriend at this rate," I continue.
        "Oh.  You realize your friend was a girl though, right?"
        "Shut up.  I mean, if I can't even keep a friend for a day, what chance to I have with guys?"
        "Oh.  Right."
        "I don't even know what they like or anything," I pout.  "I'm so useless," I say, feeling my eyes well up.  He stays seated, not realizing he should probably hug me or something.
        "Well, if you ever want to, like, experiment... I know some stuff."
        "What do you mean?"
        "Well, I could show you some things."  His dick, still laying out of the hole in his boxers, twitches.  My eyes go right to it.
        "Oh.  I don't know..."  I trail off, looking at his cock grow right in front of me.  I've never seen one do that before.
        "I could be your boyfriend, if you want.  I mean, just like, sometimes.  That way, you would be ready for when you get one for real."  To my surprise, he reaches down and grabs it in his hand.  I swear, it grows another inch right then.  It no longer looks like the soft, turtle like creature I've seen many times before.  It actually looks hard now, as if it has a bone in it, the skin stretched attractively around the shaft.
         "Shut up, are you making fun of me?"
         "No!  Of course not.  Just come here for a minute," he says, reaching for my hand.  "It's ok.  There's nothing to be afraid of."

         I step forward slightly, so that Jesse is able to reach my hand from his sitting position.  He takes it in his, and leads it to his hard dick.  It looks hard, but skin is still soft.  I apprehensively brush the shaft with the back of my hand, then continue out of pure curiosity and fascination.  I squeeze it in my hand, feeling it's springy texture.
        "Does that hurt?"
        "Haha, no.  You can squeeze it even harder, if you want."  I do, and the thing seems to get even harder in my hand.
         "That feels good?"
         "Yeah.  You can stroke it up and down, too."  I run my hand up and down the length of it, keeping a bit of pressure in my fist.
         "Like that?"
         "Mmm.  Yeah.  That's perfect."
         "Ok.  What else?"  I ask, taking my hand off of him.  His eyes had relaxed and closed, but they dart open, perhaps surprised that I had stopped.
          "You can put your mouth on it."
          "Oh.  I don't know..."  Perhaps trying to encourage me, he reaches for my crotch.  I don't know why he would do that, but I find out very quickly.
           "Mmmm.  Wow."  I want to close my eyes, but find them locked with his.  Clear green pools sparkle back at me, reflecting the pot lights in the ceiling, and I know I want him to continue.
            "It feels good, doesn't it?"
            "Mmm.  Yes," I barely manage to say.  It's like I've found out that I have a new body part.  He cups me through my shorts, and I lean into him, wanting even more pressure between my legs.  All the while, his other hand tightly grips his dick, but now he releases it, moving it up to touch to my shoulder.  His hand presses downward, giving me the inclination to kneel on the carpet.  The other hand continues kneading my crotch, and I would do anything to follow it, so I get on the ground.
            Now, I find myself right in front of Jesse's dick.  I don't even know what he means by "put my mouth on it", but he soon shows me. He squeezes my cheeks, so that my mouth opens, and with his other hand, his leads his cock towards my open lips.  I realize now, that he wants me to take it into my mouth, and don't know how I'm going to fit it inside without choking.
           He holds my face in his hands now, and the tip if it enters my mouth, tasting earthy and slightly salty.  He encourages me to move it in and out of my mouth, and I find myself drooling all over.  Each time he pulls my face into him, I almost gag.  Just when I'm about to give up because I'm not doing it right, he mutters, "Oh yeah.  That's good."
          I close my eyes, and start doing it myself, because at least then I can control how deep it goes.  I use a bit of suction, keeping my lips closed around it, to avoid moisture falling from my mouth.  Just when I wonder how long I have to do this for before he'll touch me again, Jesse convulses slightly.  His hands go back to my head, holding it there, and I suddenly feel a huge, hot gush of liquid shoot down my throat.  It tastes awful, and I run and spit it into the garbage can under his desk.
         
         I want to ask him what just happened, but we just look at each other.  I think I should go back to my room now.
     

Thursday, June 5, 2014

first time dominatrix.

          I've always experimented with dominant role play in the bedroom, but never really got to explore it to its full potential.  My partners always seemed to enjoy the more traditional approach to straight role play, with the woman being the submissive one.  Not that I didn't enjoy being the sub, or that we didn't switch it up once and a while, but I always felt that I would eventually have to go outside my relationships to experience a fully dominant role.  Men who enjoy playing submissive are more common than you think, but you have to go to the right place.  Most men, with submissive leanings or not, are not comfortable exploring it with their partners.  Their need to be seen as protectors and hunters overpowers their urge for submissive role play.  If, they're paying someone for it, however...

         I ended up answering an online ad for part time dominatrix work.  Making the leap into the sex industry wasn't too difficult for me, as I always considered my own need for dominance to be mainly psychological.  This type of work has definitely been eroticized, but most doms continue to hold harsh "no sex or nudity" policies.  This companies wasn't one of them.

         The company provided me with some basic dominatrix training; mostly safety concerns and liability clauses, but the rest is up to us.  Besides learning the basics of the role play, its a very creative field that forces you to adapt for each client, and each situation.  We were asked to perform a couple dry runs in front the company heads, with an actor playing the submissive role.  You've either got it, or you don't.  Most woman looking to do this professionally have years of practical knowledge on the subject, anyway.

          Before I know it, I book a client.  I don my full ensemble, from corset, to thigh high spiky heeled boots, and I'm on my way to becoming a full fledged sex worker.  Or so society tells me.  I still maintain that it's more like I'm fucking their minds, their memories, their emotions.  And then, there's a happy ending.
           The girls work on the third floor of a walk-up office building, with a small lobby connected to four separate spacious rooms.  The part time girls split our time between one room.
          Several clients go by before one really peaks my interest.  There was the man who wanted to be spanked with the tortoise shell brush his mother used to hit him with.  In very motherly, concerned tones, I told him that mommy loves him, but he's been a bad boy.  I could feel his boner in my leg, as I bent him over my knee.  I let him suckle at my breast, with his head on my lap, as he got off.  Too sweet of a scenario for my tastes.
          The next, was the type of client that I expect to get most.  Men with high powered jobs with a need to be restrained, blindfolded, gagged, and flogged.  They call it "the alpha male vacation".  This is the basic scenario we learned about in training.  He could only speak if he said, "yes mistress", and I didn't allow him to get off at the end.  Did it indulge my lust for dominance?  Yes.  But, it rang a little "dominatrix 101" for me.
 
          My third client, however, reminded me why I wanted to do this in the first place.  Dominance role play, with a twist.  The client card says, "Doggy Play".  I feel a smile spread across my face.  I knew there was a reason for that crate in the corner.
          I hear a knock at the door, and before I reach for it, I get an idea.  I quickly text the receptionist, asking her to tell him to kneel, and scratch at the door instead.  Not before long, I hear a pawing at the lower part of the door.  I open it, revealing a middle aged, though attractive, man on the floor in front of me.  I've made him kneel in his suit.  I already enjoy standing over him.
          "Stay," I say with authority.  He obeys, despite the fact I'm making him do it in front of another client, at the doorstep.  "Good boy.  Now, come."  He follows me into the room, crawling behind me, and I shut the door.
          "Sit," I command.  "No need for your doggy sweater in here.  Let's get all that off of you."  He sits still, as I remove his suit jacket, tie, button down shirt.  His has a nice chest too, for an older gentleman.  He clearly has played this role before, as he doesn't exactly smile, but there is an excitement and willingness to please in his eyes, just like a dog's.  "Good boy," I say, patting his head.  "Let's get a collar on you."
           This part of the role play is every bit as important as the later stuff; and it can be even more so.  It establishes character, power roles, severity, what exactly the client is looking for with the appointment.  He wants to be a good dog, for example.  His compliant behaviour tells me that he doesn't necessarily need anything too rough for this session.  That could change though, as we go along, so I need to keep reading him intently.
           "Stay," I tell him, as I kneel down beside him with the collar.  As I buckle it, I get a chance to take a closer look.  Clean shaven, despite it being the end of the day, with a striking jawline.  He must have gone home to shave before coming.  He is a good doggy.  I pat his head, ruffling his hair, ending with a touch on his soft face.
 
          "Alright, let's do some training with you, doggy," I say when I have the collar on.  I stand beside him, leash in hand.  "Heel," I say, as I slowly walk beside him.  Luckily, I used to have a dog, and know some of the training lingo.  My spiked heels click on the floor as I walk, as he crawls soundlessly beside me.  I can feel him looking at my ass, and I really put my hips into it.  I stop, and give a short tug on the leash, upwards, indicating to sit.  He does.  "Good boy," I remark.  "You're going to get a treat later."
            I walk him around the room like this a couple times, then have him sit while I get him a drink.  I quickly fill a bowl of water at the sink in the washroom, not wanting to leave my dog unattended for long.  When I return, he has a guilty look on his face.  I have to turn away to smile at the role play, then turn back in character.  "Here you go, puppy," I say, setting it down.  "Come have a drink."
           I take a quick look around, but nothing seems amiss.  I wonder what he has done.  Hasn't been long enough for him to chew anything.  He leans forward, happily lapping the water with his tongue.  I decide to test him, gently tapping the side of the bowl with my boot.  A splash of water lands on the floor beside it.  "Clean it up, doggy," I say, indicating the puddle of water at my foot.  Without flinching, he laps the water off the floor, finishing with a lick at a droplet on my boot.  "Good boy," I say, patting him again.

           If his tail could wag, it would.  He feels better about what he did.  But, what was it?  Until I know, I cannot provide the appropriate punishment.  Maybe the boot licking was enough.  I tell him to sit and stay, and take a quick look around the room.
          His head lowers, avoiding my eye contact.  I hold a controlled stare with him, as I take a leisurely lap around the room, heels clicking menacingly, as I do.  He's sweating, I can tell I'm close.  I stop at a restraining table in the corner, and take a look underneath.  Looks like he spilled something, but there's nothing around.  Then, it clicks in.  Oh my god.  My eyes go back to him, and I can feel that my jaw has dropped.  I walk with purpose back to him, and he cowers, expecting to be hit.  Instead I grab the leash, and yank him towards the crate in the corner.  He struggles to keep up, half choking under the taught collar.  He'll live; we only walk a few steps.  I unlock the door, keeping the leash tight in my hand.  I force him inside with the heel of my boot.  I slam the cage door behind him, and make sure the lock is latched.
         "Bad dog!"  I yell once he's in, leaning down and aggressively pointing.  I kick the side of the cage, making a satisfyingly loud clanging noise.  I take a breath, containing myself, and stand back up.  "You're going to have to stay in there awhile."

           I leave the room briefly, to talk to the receptionist. "How long is my client booked?"
         "Two hours today."
         "Great.  Do have any voyeurs waiting?"
         "Let's see.  Janet does.  I could ask if she wants to switch."
         "Could you?  I'm looking to double book.  Tell the client I'm ready for her."                              
          I do an entire other appointment while my doggie sits in his cage.  Once, I see him lick at the attached water bottle, like a gerbil, and I get immense pleasure from it.  And the woman enjoyed the treat of having a spectator, so it was win-win.  And a third win, for me.

          I let the female client go from her hour appointment, as I glance at the clock.  About a half hour left.  Just enough time for the "happy ending".  But exactly how I'm going to end this, I'm still not exactly sure.
         "Are you ready to be a good dog?"  I say to him, through the bars of the crate.  His butt wags slightly, and his eyes light up.  I bend down to unlatch the door, and he barrels out excitedly.
         "Yes, you're happy to be out of there, aren't you?"  I say, reaching down to pet his head.  "But I haven't completely forgiven you yet.  You're going to have to do one more thing for you owner.  Can you do that for me, boy?"  Responding not to what I said, but the energetic tone of the last question, he lets his mouth slacken, giving me a smiling pant.  Looking at his tongue, I get an idea.  I didn't say whose happy ending, did I?
         "Come here, boy," I say, removing my panties.  If only I had a bit of peanut butter or something, to put on myself.  I decide to stay standing, as it's more of a dominating pose.  He crawls close to me. "Good boy.  Now, sit.  You want a treat, doggy?"  He wags his butt again.  "Here you go boy," I say, touching my pussy.  I'm surprised to find that I'm a little wet.  I part myself slightly, to show it to him.     "Have a lick, doggy.  Be a good boy for your owner."
         He enthusiastically complies, leaning forward, giving my pussy little dog-like licks.  He can't use his hands, so I spread myself, making sure he gets my clit.  "Mmm," I moan.  "Good boy."  His tongue is skilled and quick.  Considering his fetish, I'm sure he's given plenty of oral to women throughout his life.  Would it be foolish to think that I'm his first mistress to please in this way?  Mmmm.  Yeah.  I don't care.  I can't believe I'm getting paid for this.
         "Are you going to make your mistress come?  Like a good boy?  What a good puppy."  I touch my pussy as well, putting a finger slightly inside, feeling like I could indeed orgasm from this.  I think of him in that cage.  The puppy dog eyes, the slight whines throughout the woman's appointment, hearing the small metal ball roll around as he licked the water bottle at the side of the crate.  Oh yeah.  Good boy.  I vibrate the finger at the opening of my pussy, moving it fast, back and forth, as my good dog gives my clit short, quick licks.
         "I going to come.  Good boyyyy... "  I concentrate on my dog, on his knees in front of me, wanting to please me so badly, and I give myself over to it.  "Ohhh!"  I cry out, coming on my finger, and my sweet doggy's face.
         "Good boy," I say again.  He doesn't even make a move to wipe his face.

         He leaves, still in character, crawling out the door.  I sit down for a moment, catching my breath.  Best job ever.  Then, I suddenly remember the "accident" on the floor.  Well, very nearly the best job ever.  I get some paper towel from the washroom, and the bottle of bleach.  When I bend to clean it, I notice an empty bottle of water hiding behind the leg of the table.  I wipe the small puddle, and it is indeed water.

       
        Hmm.  Maybe I've got a little more work to do on my intuiting.