RANCHER'S WIFE - CHAPTER SIX: free porn video

CHAPTER SIX:

Several weeks later we awaken in the morning and are surprised by an early dumping of snow. Mitch assures me this is not a precursor to a hard, long winter. I have to admit, I am relieved. I am probably more of a warm-weather-girl, but I made the decision easily that Mitch was worth the effort of learning to live in and, hopefully, enjoy all the seasons. The overnight snow is only (he says, only) about six inches of new, fresh, snow; but to me it feels like so much more.

I have to admit to myself, even if I can’t quite immediately to Mitch, that it is beautiful. I have a thick robe on to guard against the cold as I make my way to the kitchen to get the coffee started. I see the white landscape as I pass the large sliding doors and hesitate only a moment before hustling to kitchen. I am returning to the porch door and find Blackie pacing before it. I am not sure if he had always been allowed indoors at night, but since I have been more involved in the house, I have let him in at night. It has become the routine now and Mitch hasn’t objected, not strenuously, anyway. I step to the main door, pulling the robe a little tighter around me as I open the inside. With Blackie at the outside storm door, I open it and lean forward to avoid having to step on the threshold, which I was sure had to freezing. I close both doors and return to the sliding doors to watch. It is amazing to me still how a****ls adjust to their surroundings. He is running, stopping, turning, and running in circles, leaving a very pronounced path in his wake.

I feel strong arms taking me from behind, pulling me into him, and I yield to his embrace, which is followed by a kiss on my neck. I shiver at the touch.

“Cold, Cat?”

I turn and face him, kissing him quickly on the lips. “No, my dear man, that was all you. And, I love it that you can cause me to react that way.”

He smiled that smile of his, the one that melts me as I see the gentle softness coming from him in these quiet, intimate moments we seem to have more and more. This big, tough guy opening himself for gentleness. I’ve thought about that, too. I know it is his gift to me, something he has managed to work at to give. It has more to do with my ability to give to him, to share with him openly and spontaneously. I don’t mean sex, that would be easy. No, my giving and sharing allowed him to open himself; it was my ability to do that, which allowed me to be his partner, a partner on level footing, if not completely equal footing. I am still feeling indebted to some extent, not in the way of necessarily giving my being to him, but recognizing that this is his house, property, and personal space that he is allowing me into. A feeling that I hope I outgrow as our relationship continues and our bond becomes continuously stronger and reliable. A feeling that will become moot if our life can become as one.

I return to the kitchen to get us coffee while he stokes the stove. I search the cupboard for the largest mugs available, fill them, and return to find him sitting on the couch, the fire in the stove blazing brightly. He sees me looking at it, then at him questioningly.

“No magic, Cat, just really good embers, some kindling, and stoking with more wood. It should be warm in here in moments.”

I hand him both mugs and curl up next to him, pulling the robe tight around me, again. “Darn, I was hoping to have to rely on body heat.”

He gave me one of the mugs, put his free arm around me, and squeezed. “You can have that, unless it gets too warm.”

I look up into his eyes, “Too warm … then I’ll take off the robe.”

Carefully, intent on not spilling hot coffee, we kissed.

I was partially sitting, mostly leaning on him, his arm around me and stroking my arm as I sipped the warming coffee and felt this area of the house warm and radiate further into the house from the stove that sat in the corner opposite the kitchen. Outside, the scene was magical as the sun rose fully over the mountain behind us. The lake shined with blue as did the sky. The storm had gone in the night as it came, it left behind a bright sunny day to dawn on us. Everywhere but the lake and sky above was white with the new snow. The snow, early for the season, was heavy with moisture, sticking to every horizontal surface, limbs of trees, and entire boughs of the evergreen trees. It was a classic winter-wonderland photo opportunity. But, neither of us moved, simply content to sit in our closeness and warmth to enjoy the view. Clean, white everywhere, except for where Blackie had been chasing around. Then, in a flash went a rabbit from right to left. I reacted and looked up at Mitch, then he said, “Watch”.

Sure enough, a much bigger flashed went by, this time black. I chuckled, “I don’t think he has a chance.”

With the coffee finished and a good, hearty breakfast into us, Mitch had me back in the bedroom. No, as much as I lobbied for getting back under the covers and ‘sharing body heat’, he wouldn’t hear of it. Well, he did hear it, he just said ‘later’, with a big smile.

We were going outside to enjoy the wonders of the early snow in the mountains. He said I wouldn’t survive the winters holed up inside and, besides, the work on a ranch wouldn’t wait for spring. I was getting the chance to break in the new winter clothes we bought at the outfitters in Denver. I nearly felt I was going to melt with the clothes I had on, but he assured me that would change once we were outside. I didn’t say it, but that was exactly what I was afraid of. Entering the laundry/mud room, he pointed to our cowboy boots. So, we were going riding. Interesting …

In the barn, we walked between the stalls and I looked into the empty one that had been home to the cow when I was first here. I never did get the hang of milking and the constant need for milking was a royal pain as far as I was concerned. Plus, I didn’t like the fat-rich milk coming straight from the cow. Interesting, as I looked back on it, it didn’t hardly take any convincing for Mitch to make the decision. Before I knew it, he had backed the horse trailer into the barn and pulled back out, headed for one of the towns with a butcher. From that point on, we bought all our milk and we had some fresh steaks and hamburger. I learned a valuable lesson that day; sometimes a simple comment about your feelings can be all that is needed to spark a concurring feeling and action from the other person.

We took the horses into the mountain behind the house. I was wondering why we weren’t taking the ATV, but I quickly realized the beauty around us and the quiet of the horses. Blackie was following us or ahead of us, mostly dependent on him finding something to scare up in the brush. As we climbed above the house, it wasn’t hard to be overwhelmed by nature’s marvel. As we guided the horses in a zigzagging, back and forth, route through the trees, I am enjoying the sudden beautiful change to the landscape. From an eventual vantage point above the house and above the tree-line, the thick, clinging snow on everything with a surface to hold onto was contrasted by the dark lake water and the brilliant blue sky. It was enough to make my heart skip a beat and my breath to catch as I sat astride the horse, gazing out over the valley below. I was lost within myself and this beautiful world surrounding me. I had closed my eyes, my face turned up to the sun, feeling the warmth of the sun even in this early winter’s appearance. I opened my eyes to a renewed vision of the spectacle: the dark of the lake water below; white everywhere, except for the dappling of darkness in the forest where the trees showed through; the mountains with their craggy rocky formations and peaks; and the blue, blue sky with just a few floating white clouds drifting by like ships at sea on a lazy cruise. My eyes flash open wide and my heart beat went crazy, though, when Mitch maneuvered his horse quietly alongside mine, pulls me into him sideways, both of us leaning into each other from our saddles, spanning the distance between the horses, and we kissed. Wearing cowboy hats, gloves, and heavy jackets, I am comfortable in the bright sun, and I wish we could do more.

Back home, we of course take care of the horses, first. Despite the cold high altitude air, they were the ones doing all the work of getting us up and back down. Mitch was careful to choose his route to give them solid footing, which extended the distance we actually had to travel. We got them settled into their stalls, brushed, watered and fed. I was, of course, slower at this than Mitch was and he had left the barn, first checking the heater on the wall near the door at the end away from the horses. He wanted the barn warmer than the outside but not too warm.

I slid the large door just enough for me exit and as I pushed it closed, I was confronted by an assassin. It was a well place snowball that splatters above the door and rains down on me. Thankfully, the wide brim of the cowboy hat protected me from the falling snow pieces. I can’t believe I was now seeing the playfulness of this guy. It seemed I got to discover more about him as time went and he and I became increasingly comfortable and committed to our relationship. I slowly turned around to confront him, not at all sure what I am getting myself into. Mitch was starting a snowball fight and was blocking my way back to the house from the barn. He had a snowball in each hand and released one and it splattered above me, again. Certainly, that had to be his intention. I can’t believe he would miss in the same location twice in a row unless that was intentional. He had a funny look on his face, challenging, daring me to retaliate. Which I did, of course. Sometimes I really wonder about my intelligence. I crouched down and make a couple snowballs of my own. As I stand up, I am calculating my strategy. Yeah, right! I look across the space between us at a high school and college football standout and all-around athletic stud. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, I was trying to stare down someone who our government sent to face off against international killers. Like I said, my intelligence could sometimes be called into question.

I finally gave up, my throwing was terrible, and decided to chase him, instead. I jump onto his back, he tripped, and we wrestled on the ground, quickly getting covered in snow. I can tell he is being gentle with me (thank you, thank you), and I get away, but he soon has me trapped at the dock. My only escape is to go down the dock, which is no escape at all. I plead for truce and he reluctantly agreed. I walked toward him and he was visibly tense. Clearly, he is expecting me to break the truce and jump him, again. Instead, I move into his arms and he picked me up, I can feel him relax. God, I am like nothing in his arms! And he know it.

“Mitch, will you help me build my first snowman?”

He set me down and looked intently at me, “Your first? Are you serious, you’ve never built a snowman?”

“Not that I remember, anyway.” He wrapped my gloved hand in his. He was looking for a good place to build it. I told him I wanted it at the end of the dock. My logic was that it could be seen from the house and be a lookout for anything approaching from the lake. He smiled at my teasing about his constant concern about security. The snowman became five foot tall, nearly the same as me, and at the end of the dock. It required us to roll the balls of snow the entire length of the dock, one of which dropped over the edge, splashing him. Thankfully, winter gear is for the most part water resistant. By the time it was done, I was shivering. For a warm-weather-gal’s first full day in the winter, I didn’t do too bad.

Returning to the house was through the laundry/mud room. The boots and outer clothes came off and a lot of snow in the process. I was amazed at where the snow comes out of as we take off layers. No wonder I was getting cold. Mitch is stripped to his long-johns and disappears quickly into the main room where he is again stoking the stove. I knock both boots, coveralls, and jackets of the last of the clinging snow, hang them to dry, then sweep the snow to the drain to melt. I enter the main room in my own long-johns, very sexy, I might add, according to Mitch and looking at him carrying wood to a small pile by the stove, I have to agree. He went on and on about the new fibers that allow the under layers to be thinner and form more closely to the body. I am admiring the fit on his body, too. Then, he stopped as he was about to set the wood down and looked at me. Instead, he dropped the wood and they bounce off each other on the pavers the stove sits on, he stepped to me and held me at arm’s length, looking me up and down.

“Who would believe long-johns could look so sexy.” He kisses me fully on the lips, his hands wandering over my back, to my ass. “I’m feeling warmer, already.”

“Hmmmm, well then, wait until you see what I have on underneath them.” He gave me a quizzical look and slid a hand to my breast. “Remember that little black, lace, item Hansen brought that night?”

He moved his hands to the top of my long-john bottoms, but I slapped his hands away. “It needs to get warmer in here.”

He pouted a moment, then his face cheered as he appeared to have an idea. He led me to the couch, put the blanket over me, then went into the kitchen. I couldn’t see what he was up to, but I heard the refrigerator open, the cabinet, and the tea kettle start whistling. Soon, he returned with two steaming mugs of caramel colored liquid. I smelled it and smiled, then sipped it.

“Ooooo, sweet but with a bit of a kick.”

“A hot-toddy, bourbon or brandy, honey, and hot water. It will take the chill off.” He sat down next to me and I leaned into him. I guess it has become one of my favorite sitting positions. I cover the two of us with the blanket and we sip the warm, soothing drink that not only warms with the hot liquid, but also with the effects of the alcohol.

He made us another, which I gladly accept. The stove was hot and radiating good heat from the other side of the room, the hot fluid and liquor was doing its thing, and being under the blanket with Mitch was definitely adding its own heat. His free arm was around me, but the hand was not idle. From innocently stroking my arm, his hand had moved to my breast. I know he feels the bra underneath but the touch still feels good to me. As I finish my second drink, I put the mug down and squirmed in his arms to kiss him fully on the lips and that sets us both into more purposeful action.

It isn’t long before I pull the blanket off and stand up in front of him. I started to gently, slowly sway my hips and body as though to music only I could hear. I gazed at him, my eyes now sultry, “Are you ready? I said you had to wait until it was warmer. Well, stud, you have certainly done a wonderful job of making me feel warmer.” He smiled but his eyes never leave my swaying body and I mean body, because I don’t think his eyes have made contact with mine for the past minutes. I continued to sway but my hands move up my body to my breasts, which I squeeze and push together. I then slowly slid them back down to the waist of the bottoms, I hook fingers into the top elastic, and move one side and then the other side down my hips about three inches at a time. I am dying to show him, but I also want to tease him and know that he is feeling the tease. This is the first time I have worn these, only finding them in the drawer this morning by accident. With the bottoms now halfway down my hips, he can see the sides and he now knows I wasn’t teasing him about that. I turn my back to him, bending over at the waist as the bottoms are sliding over my ass cheeks and he sees my bare ass with only that wisp of black lace across my ass and the smallest amount disappearing between my ass cheeks.

I push the bottoms down and try to step out of them, but the ankles are elastic, too. I break the mood completely with a case of clumsiness as I try vainly to pull them off my feet. I lose my balance and fall back into the couch and Mitch. He catches me and I can’t stifle a giggle, then full laughing, which he joins. I may have broken the sexy mood of a strip tease, but the resulting effect was a relaxed mood and comfortable in being ourselves. And that felt perfect.

He pushed me back so I was on my back and my legs came up to him. He took one leg, then the other, pulling the bottoms off, then tossing them onto the coffee table. I was lying back, my legs up in the air with him holding them there. He was looking down at my ass, the thin piece of lacy material coming from between my legs and into my ass cheeks. He separates my legs about six inches and looks into my eyes. I am watching closely, knowing how I want this to go and hoping he does, too. His eyes change from gaging my reaction, to lusty, and then to smiling as he recognized a similar response from me. Holding my legs apart just a little to see into my eyes, he shifted his gaze to the specific location where my legs join. He opened my legs further, slowly, but his gaze doesn’t waver, his inspection becoming more intense and deliberate. I raise my head off the seat of the couch just the amount needed to see what he is seeing, what has his attention so fixed. What I see makes me blush slightly as he again glances up at me, sensing my slight shift in position. The small piece of material intended to cover me, barely as I recalled when I put them on this morning, had one side of it slipped between my lips. One entire lip of my pussy was showing.

I watched him as he looked, then looked up at me. He kept looking back and forth, my partially covered pussy and my face. He put my left leg further to the side until it was on the top of the couch back, then pushed my knee further toward me so the leg was firmly on top of the couch back. He then moved my right leg off the couch, my foot resting on the floor. With his eyes on mine, his right hand slid from my mound, up my stomach, under my top, and capturing my breast covered in a lacy bra he still hadn’t seen. I sucked in a deep breath at his deliberate action, the precise action I had hoped for earlier during my ill-fated strip tease.

He leaned forward, bracing his other hand against the arm of the couch just beyond my head, and kissed me. He looked into my eyes and kissed me, again. “I want you, Cat.”

I was sure the look that came over my face wasn’t exactly a smile, not with the power of the emotional state coursing through me at the moment. But, I also knew it expressed my own eagerness, “Then, take me, please!”

He didn’t wait, he didn’t think, not even to consider how he wanted to do it, or even how I might want it. His eyes shifted to my body and the important part that was his intention now. He grabbed the wisp of material that was the thong and pulled it. He apparently didn’t think it through when he spread my legs so wide. I raised both legs up into the air and raised my hips from the surface of the couch. The thong was going up my legs and off my feet in seconds. I watched him more than the disappearing thong. His eyes intent, focused, and fixed on this singular task. With the thong joining the bottoms on the coffee table, I didn’t wait for him to reposition my legs, I replaced both as they had previously been. And, I waited, anxious, as anxious as he appeared.

He stood up next to the couch and it was my turn to watch. I knew what was happening and I enjoyed it every time. He quickly lowered his long-johns and underwear in the same motion. His cock came into view and it was already half-hard and as he now struggled to get them off, I watch his cock move and sway. I reached for him, sat him down on the edge and without moving much myself, wanting to be exposed to him blatantly like this, I pulled each leg of his bottoms off his feet. Before releasing him, I quickly grabbed his stiffening, quickly stiffening, cock in my hand and stroked him several times, all the while looking up into his face, sharing a look while preparing him fully to take the next step.

The next step, the only conceivable step for either of us, was immediate, powerful, and consuming. He regained his position between my still spread legs, guided his hard cock to the opening of my wet pussy, and drove in several inches, recognized the ease with which he entered my ready body, and drove completely into me. It was so quick and urgent that it took my breath away. So unlike most other times when we have joined, as our relationship has evolved and grown, but at the same time so wonderful and intimate that we accept these differences in our sharing and giving … and taking.

He pulled out, slowly, nearly completely, so that only the head is still within me. My mouth has opened as he pulls himself out, until he stops and he is still just inside. My mouth sighs, as if I was reacting to a potential frustration of losing him being inside. As my mouth closed with the satisfaction that he is not pulling out, I moan with that relief, and I look up into his face as he remains just inside. His face is studying mine, searching for an indication of something, and I smile up at him, but it is a smile laced with my own lust and desire. I think I know his mind at the moment. His initial thrust was uncharacteristically powerful, something he may have felt at times before but controlled, being sensitive to my past, not wanting to duplicate an action that had been forced on me by men in my past. I had come to know this part of him, this part that provides safety, reassurance, and confidence so I can take back control and my right to express my desires, preferences, and pleasures.

I simply return his gaze, but move a hand to the side of his face, a lust laced smile over my face, and I nod to him. It is all the signal he needs. He thrusts completely in a single stroke until our bodies again hit. Then over and over. It is the most powerful fucking we have shared, yet. But, still, his eyes and his strokes are caring. He isn’t pounding brutally at me, punishing me, or oblivious of my reactions. It is all about my reaction to his action as I moan and groan and I realize that my moans are only half the sounds I am hearing as we seem to be in chorus with each other.

Our climax is equally urgent and rewarding. Virtually one on top of the other; we collapse into each other. Rather, he collapses into my arms and my body seems to collapse but merely just relaxes into the couch. My legs are around his waist, reluctant to let him move at all, perhaps even fearful of losing this contact with him. But, eventually, he does shrink and as if it has a mind of its own to escape my body, his penis slips out from me. I think we both sighed … I know I did when there was that loss of him inside.

He gives me a kiss and stands up, his cock head dripping a last drop of fluid … his or a combination of ours. He announces that he is making us another drink, this time bourbon on the rocks. I am to remain where I am, but I half sit up, half still slouched. My eyes close as I concentrate on the last physical and emotional reactions of climax gradually subside. I tell myself I will refocus when he returns, but until then I will just enjoy the feeling.

I am not immediately aware that Blackie was again smelling around me, between my legs, picking up my scent. I feel something, a touch, but furry, along the inside of my thigh. I open my eyes to investigate and find Blackie between my splayed legs, his snout stretching out towards me, his nostrils flaring with the detection of scent. I watch him, he clearly has my scent. His snout is still a little over twelve inches from my pussy, but his neck is stretched out towards it.

Mitch has re-entered the room with the two glasses. But he stops as he sees Blackie approaching me. Blackie stops his sniffing, perhaps satisfied that he knows the source and looks at me, then he seems to recognize Mitch’s presence and looks at him, also. I was still watching Blackie, but glance to Mitch when Blackie does. He has been watching us closely, a look that is different on his face, an expression of curiosity, intense interest, and … yes, I think lust, renewed lust. But it doesn’t seem like the kind of lusty expression indicating an intent to do something, but … different. He simply nods to me. And, I know his interest, why his expression was different. This is new for us, we haven’t even talked about it, but he knows I have had some experience with it, even if forced.

“Are you sure?”

“You talked about the dogs before. You said they used you, but not brutally like the men. You said you enjoyed them because of that, maybe more than the men.”

“That’s true, but … it’s a dog.”

“But, not just any dog. It’s Blackie.”

“Mitch, I don’t want this to be a problem for us. I have you, I am happy.”

“Cat, I’ve seen you with Blackie. You love him, too. You have Blackie and me in your life now, don’t you? If you are able to experience, love fully, both of us, might you be even happier?”

“Oh, Mitch, I … I’m not sure I could stand being happier than I am already.”

“Then you should find out. As for me … it being a problem … look …” I had been focused on him, his face and eyes to gage his reactions to this bazaar exchange, but I did look. Still without his bottoms, it was quite evident. He was rock hard, and he had just filled me with his cum.

I shift my gaze back to Blackie who is still between my legs. He had been following our conversation … well, not really following it like he understood it, but following our voices, looking from one to the other. He might easily have been concerned about his approaching me like this. He might easily have seen me as his master’s … god, I looked into Blackie’s eyes, in his way of reference, he would see me as his master’s bitch. Jeez, was this really going to happen? I wasn’t Mitch’s bitch … no, he didn’t think of me that way. The other men, sure, but not Mitch. But Blackie, yeah, Blackie would think of me that way. My mind was spinning, my equilibrium was off. I thought I was understanding my place with Mitch, my place here in his life … now this.

Why was everything so complicated. At the very time that I felt I understood what was happening, what my place was with Mitch, in his life, in my life, this comes up. But, I study Blackie as he considers me. His interest is primal, base, and simple. For all I know he has never, I mean ever, consummated the feeling he was now aware of because of what was in front of him. I shifted my attention to Mitch, was he serious? He was okay with this? Really?

He moved towards me. He smiled as he placed my drink on the end table next to the couch. I grab it and took a healthy gulp. It sent my brain into a spin. A gulp of straight bourbon. It will do that to me. Maybe I didn’t need my brain foggy right now. Maybe I should have stayed aware of all the nuances around me. I want Blackie, though … the same thing he wanted .. the same thing Mitch was saying was okay. No, not okay, not just okay. He made a point of making me fully aware of just how much the potential, just the potential, of Blackie and me going further had aroused him, stimulated him, and was clearly looking forward to, hoping for, it to happen.

I am still slouched on the couch, my legs open, and Blackie between them at my knees. How long have I been like this? Only minutes? Really? This seems like such a major step, yet Mitch is encouraging me. He is standing next to me, watching me.

He puts a hand on Blackie’s head and at the same time leans forward. I look up as he does and he kisses me. “Do it, Cat. But only if you want to. Don’t do it because I want you to. As much as you are concerned about this coming between us, I don’t want you to do something that will be a problem for us because I asked you.”

I reached both hands up to his face, pulling him in for another kiss. Without taking my eyes off his, I remove one hand and pat the inside of my thigh, “Here, Blackie.”

He was a dog full of interest and intrigue. He may never have come into contact with a bitch before, but instinct seemed to be taking over. He looked up at Mitch, perhaps having long ago accepting him as the alpha male and more recently me as his. Even that thought alone gave me a warm feeling. Mitch only encouraged him, not verbally for he may never have understood that, but physically. Mitch stroked Blackie’s head, then moved the same hand to my wet pussy, the pussy he had only minutes earlier deposited his seed. He stoked me, separating my lips and slipping a finger inside, then bringing that finger to Blackie’s nose who stopping looking to us for any indication of acceptance, and moved forward to lick the presented finger. When Mitch pulled his hand away, Blackie moved up, sniffing, his nostrils flaring as he gathered in the scent, a scent that from now on would be known to him as me, me ready for mating.

With no hesitation present in his demeanor any longer, he moved up to my pussy, sniffing constantly until his tongue finally shot out and swiped me. The first time was just a touch, a taste, an exploratory effort. I reached between my legs and petted his head, stroking the side of his face, and that was all the confirmation he needed. His licks became long and strong, fully covering my pussy from bottom to top, each time flicking over my clit. On the third such lick, I moaned out my pleasure. Soon after, I realized my legs were spread out even wider than I had remembered. I found Mitch sitting in his chair, sipping his drink with one hand, stroking himself slowly with the other. I was ready to swoon by these things occupying my mind: the sight of Mitch stroking himself while watch us, obvious beyond any question how much he was enjoying what he was witnessing; the marvelous feeling tongue working my pussy and clit; and, the very real anticipation of experiencing Blackie inside me, if I wanted it. And, how could I not want it. It wouldn’t be the first time to experience a dog mating with me, but it would be the first time to experience it when I was the one who wanted it, where I wanted it, and with a dog that I truly liked and felt a bond with.

My persistent moaning and enjoyment of Blackie’s tongue in front of Mitch, and Mitch’s obvious enjoyment of watching us, convinced me to take the next step and cross the line that would define a new relationship for all of us from this moment on. I reached down to Blackie’s head and held it, gazing into his eyes, those big brown eyes, I sat up and kissed him on the nose. He looked a bit puzzled by the change, but the kiss and hug that followed seemed to reassure him. Mitch even hesitated in mid stroke as I moved, interrupting Blackie’s licking of me.

I walked the few steps to him, bent over, kissed him on the lips and let my hand cover his over his cock. “Are you sure, Mitch? I don’t want any regrets.”

“I love that you are that concerned about our relationship, even now at this point of your stimulation. Yes, I am sure. Enjoy him. I can see that he fully intends to enjoy you.”

I chuckled with him in recognition of the obvious. We both were looking at him as he stood sideways to us, his reddish cock sticking well out of his sheath. I kissed Mitch once more before moving to the floor, on my hands and knees, turning to present my ass to a new lover. A lover who came up behind me, licked me more between my legs, covering both my pussy and asshole. I reached around, pushed his nose away and patted my ass to encourage him to mount me. He seemed confused, not quite sure what his next move was supposed to be. He jumped up onto my back, humped a few times, but hit nothing, not even my butt cheeks. He jumped off, walked around me, licking my face as he passed, before jumping up onto me, again. This time he was far enough to hit my cheeks, but repeated humps failed to hit the mark. I was at a loss until I remembered that the men would hold the dogs to me for them to achieve penetration. Once they were inside with a good amount of cock, they seemed to stay in.

“Mitch, could you help him. I think he needs to learn what it feels like and the sequence.”

I heard him rise from the chair, “What should I do?”

“I’ll try to get him into me, if you can just hold his ass tight against me until he has good penetration. This is so obscene, asking you to help me get fucked by your dog …”

I felt Blackie being pressed into the back of my thighs and ass, I reached underneath, found his cock and guided him to me. Moving my ass up and down, side to side, he finally made contact with my hole, and when he did, he hesitated only a moment before plunging into me. Mitch held him there as I felt the dog move on me, now tightly against my ass. Then, it started and I groaned out, that rapid humping of a dog. I had nearly forgotten what that felt like, actually not sure I ever felt it like it was now. Not that Blackie was necessarily any better or worse than the other dogs, just that this was Blackie, not some dog, and … more importantly, this was what I wanted, rather than having done to me. I reveled in the experience, not just physically, although that was at the moment an immensely powerful experience, it was also emotional. One hand went to the side to touch him, then shifted to over my shoulder to touch his head and I shivered. As he continued to hump frantically into me, his furry body rubbing along my thighs and back, but the intense emotion came from a series of licks on my neck and shoulder, then feeling an occasional drop of drool, all a part of him, and the complete experience.

I cried out at the feeling of the knot pressing against my opening, pushing, pressing, with equal urgency. I pressed back against him, wanting to experience everything with free-will, with my own eagerness, and craving. As the knot finally passed through my distended lips, I cried out. Mitch was next to me in a flash, asking me if it was alright, if I was hurt, if he should stop Blackie. I looked up at him, tears at the corners of my eyes, but a smile on my lips.

“I love you. I love Blackie. This is wonderful. I want to fuck you two forever.”

He kissed the top of my head, stretched out beneath me so his head was under me only at a right angle. He was smiling up at me. I smiled, through groans, moans, and sighs. My pussy was full of dog cock and knot and the dog on the other end was working himself into a lather of eruption. Below me was my lover, a man who I have known barely half a year, a man who I completely and utterly trusted … and loved. God, I love him! His hand moved up to pull my head down and we kissed, long and deep. His other hand wounded beneath me and took a breast, pulling on a nipple. At the same time, unknown to him, Blackie tensed inside me, his cock and knot swelled to seemingly enormous size and he exploded inside me, spurt after spurt of his warm cum shooting deep into my pussy. The combination of the two males in my life jointly working my body put me over the edge and I came, orgasmed, exploded into a shuddering mass of involuntary shaking and mind numbing jolts of pleasure sent through my body.

It was awkward, it was clumsy … but it was wonderful with Mitch with me completely at the end. Blackie and I remained tied for minutes, maybe many minutes. Who cared, I was kissing my man.

* * CHAPTER SEVEN will follow * * Thanks for reading.