CRAVING – A SLUT DEEPTI STORY free porn video

This is the story of a mature woman, Deepti Sinha. She lives in the greater metropolitan region of Mumbai, India. She comes from a conservative Indian family and married to a troubled businessman through an arranged marriage, still a common custom in India and other countries in the region. She is a good woman, a good wife, and has made it her goal to create an environment of peace and comfort for her husband. It has been a task that she was predisposed to perform even if the effort seemed under-appreciated.

Deepti is a submissive in personality and nature. The only problem is that she is still unaware of that and wouldn’t know what that is or means if she was aware. All she knows is that her role is to please and serve her husband in much the same way she did when she lived with her parents and family before her arranged marriage. Her natural impulse to please was of primary importance to the man’s family in order that he be freed to concern himself only with his rising career in business. They believed he was a man destined to succeed and bring credit to the family.

Deepti was a virgin at marriage and understood little of the sexual world or its potential. As it turned out, her husband, Prakash, had as little interest in sexual relations as she had knowledge of it. Unfortunately for Deepti, though, the consummation of their marriage and the early years to follow opened something within her that remained frustratingly unfulfilled by an inattentive husband interested more in his business efforts and vices, gambling and drinking, than the significant charms of his wife. And, despite her subtle hints and flirtations, he remained consumed by other things. Being submissive, however, she found it difficult, if not impossible, to express her interest in exploring sex with him.

After 15 years of a c***dless and sexually frustrating marriage, she began to contemplate, fantasize, and imagine what might have been or might be if … The if was something she was not comfortable with. This story is the exploration she innocently began and found difficult to control.

Hidden deep inside Deepti was a desire and need to satisfy and be satisfied in simple ways initially, but in not so simple ways, eventually. But finding the way to satisfy and be satisfied seemed impossible to her. Impossible until her world was opened up before her in a very unexpected way.

CHAPTER TWO

For two days, I lived a daily life of self-recrimination and loathing. For once, I was thankful that Prakash ignored me so I wouldn’t have to pretend everything was okay. When you don’t interact except for the barest of communication exchanges, the face you put on is of little significance.

A dog. I let a dog lick my body. I was worse than a whore, a tramp, a kasabi. How could I have done that? What was wrong with me?

For two days, I didn’t think about anything but my shame. For two days, I remained fully dressed. For two days, it didn’t even occur to me that I had so recently been craving sexual release. For two days I denied my need, my crazed desire, my insatiable craving for the sexual release missing from my life for all those years. For two days ….

Then, it started slowly, almost imperceptibly in my mind. The memory crept into my consciousness that I hadn’t LET the dog lick me. The dog licked me, but it hadn’t been my decision or willingness that it happened. The dog appeared … from nowhere, really. It licked me while I was orgasming. The sensations were on top of my orgasm. My mind was confused, befuddled, foggy in the orgasmic state of release. It really wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t to blame. I didn’t do anything …

Then, after yet another day, I recognized my continued need, craving for sexual release. That hadn’t changed, it still existed. That wasn’t my fault or my doing, either. That was Prakash’s fault for ignoring me, for thinking and caring for his business concerns more than his wife’s concerns. The craving was still real, still demanding, and they needed to be satisfied. That hadn’t changed. I needed a release. I needed stimulation for release.

When, on another day, the needs and cravings were as strong as ever, I again succumbed. After seeing Prakash off to work, I returned to the bedroom and undressed completely. I stood in front of the mirror for only a minute, nodded to my reflection, and walked deliberately to the living room window where I stood for five minutes. I set the timer because I was shaking terribly and knew I would end it too soon. When the timer on my phone buzzed, I ran into the bedroom, retrieved my dildo and turned it on to a moderate vibration. I stroked the head over my clit and instantly shuddered in response. It seemed like so long since I had stimulated myself. I needed release so desperately. I jammed the dildo into my cunt, which was wet and winking for something to be put into it.

It was quick. It was very quick. After crushing the dildo into my hole, I turned the nob up to the maximum. I used both hands, one to thrust the hard rubber vibrating phallus in and out while the other alternated between my engorged clit and each of my pinchable nipples. My orgasm broke over me with a thunderous cry erupting deep inside me. My hands only paused, though, as my body shook. I never even took the buzzing dildo from my cunt, only waiting for some strength and awareness to return to me. Then, my hands resumed. This time I left the dildo to vibrate as my fingers tortured my throbbing clit and I twisted and pinched my nipples. I cried out in pain and erotic thrill as my body rose to an even greater orgasm. I scream my release as my legs and arms shivered.

When I partially recovered, I removed the still vibrating toy from my cunt and I listened carefully to any sounds in the apartments above or below. I wasn’t sure if anyone might be able to hear the scream or not, but a story was easy to concoct. A simple fall while rearranging the shelves in the bedroom closet.

As I stood in the bedroom, I saw my reflection in the mirror. I walked directly in front of it and gazed at my reflection, again. Critically, this time, like a week ago. I separated my thighs and looked. Not only could I see the lips of my cunt between my legs, but they and the insides of my thighs were wet with my cum and juices. I have heard of women who squirt, but I don’t think I am not one of them. But, I do leak my juices generously and that is visible now. My nipples are more pronounced than before, the stimulation having extended them even more. I use my fingers and squeeze them, pinch them, and twist them. It hurts, but I watch my facial reaction as I do it, then I check out the nipples. They throb from the abuse and they stand out even further.

I look at my body, my body’s reaction, and my mind is again on track for the exploration I had set for myself those days before. I look at my body closely as if to see the truth in the skin, tits, nipples, and cunt. I look up into my own eyes and that is where I see it, the truth, the validation, and the determination. I want it. I need it. I crave it. I want more of what I started. And, in that moment of inspection, of introspection, I know I am going to go back to the Park. The dog’s tongue felt heavenly. It felt wonderful. I am going back to the Park and I will masturbate outside, again. But … if that dog returns …

Despite my determination, I am still working up the nerve to venture back to the Park. I think I have erased the shame of the dog licking me. That recrimination was reflective of my family, Prakash, and what they would have heaped onto me should such an experience be witnessed and reported. I feel the excitement of the risk, again. The thrill of exposure and the danger it represents renews me and goads me. My sessions of masturbation in the apartment become more frequent and intense. I have used a lot of images and fantasies but none have produced such intense excitement, stimulation, and raw release as now. Now, all my mind can see while the dildo or my fingers work at my cunt is the dog licking at my wet and gaping cunt. These images, though, don’t stop so quickly as it occurred in reality before. These images are of the dog lapping at my drooling cunt as I lay spread before him, my fingers abusing my nipples until he and I bring me to a glorious orgasm that is replicated on my bed with the dildo. Any longer, those images, those thoughts, have become the craving. It seems completely reckless, not careful, at all. But, I know it is now inevitable.

When I return to the Park, I am telling myself I don’t believe the dog, any dog, could even be there in that spot. I kept telling myself it would have to be a coincidence of epic proportions for that dog to be in the same place and same time as me. I am trying to keep myself from a huge disappointment, but inwardly I am still hoping to experience that event, again. I rationalize that it might take several visits.

And, I am correct. I return to the Park and my location. I scan around the area and I am virtually alone. I still hear sounds of people and k**s in the distance, but I am alone in my hidden spot. I push my jeans and panties down to my ankles to allow even better exposure of my legs and I settle down in the wild grass. I start urgently with my fingers, but then take a deep breath to calm myself. There is no need for rushing through this. The lack of the dog is only one element of the experience. I can still be in nature. Where I lie, I look up to the sky. The distant sounds of people, the sounds of birds and the city much further in the distance is both calming and titillating. The sounds of nature are refreshing and calming; the sounds of city life and people are stimulating, reminding of what I am doing and where I am doing it.

I reach to the side for my small backpack and remove the dildo, turning it onto a low setting. I place the end of it directly on my clit, rotating it over and around the nub. A long shiver runs through my body. I hear rustling in the brush or trees somewhere. I can’t help myself. I awkwardly kneel, the dildo protruding from my cunt. I slowly raise my head to scan around. I see nothing, but I was sure I heard something and the something was big. I kneel as straight as I can, rising as far as I can without standing. I still don’t see anything. Then, it happens, again. A great crash through leaves. I almost cry out, but I can’t. My jeans are around my ankles, I can’t move, much less escape. When I hear it the next time, I am prepared and my ears trace the sound. It isn’t on the ground but up in the air, which means it must be in the trees around me. Then, a large hawk bursts out of a tree about 15 feet from me. It has something trapped in its claws.

I am shaking from the build-up of adrenaline and the sudden relief of not being found. I collapse to the ground in relief and, in the process, drive the dildo, still in my cunt, deeper into me. This time I do cry out in shock and stimulation. The vibrating head was jammed against my cervix and the entire toy is nearly jammed inside me but for the base. The sensation is beyond anything I have experienced with the device, the buzzing inside me directly on my inner opening to my womb. I shake, my arms limp as my ass is firmly on the ground holding the head deep inside me. I climax hard and fall to my back, my eyes clenched tightly shut, not a sound penetrating from the outside; the only sound is the pounding rush of my heartbeat in my ears.

It takes quite a while for my body to recover. Or, maybe I just allowed a long time to recover, enjoying the surrounding sounds of nature to slowly return and envelop me as I gazed back up at the blue sky and the sounds of the city again return to me. I am partially naked outdoors and I have just had a magnificent orgasm that took my breath away.

As I casually walk downhill to the path, I am distracted by the feelings still fresh in my mind, even my body. It isn’t until I hear a bark that I look up. There coming over another ridge behind the location I had been was a dog bounding playfully. I stopped to watch, curious if it is the same dog. I couldn’t tell from that distance for sure, but it was similar in breed and size. It seemed to be playing, chasing after something on the ground, picking it up and running back over the ridge. Playing? That would mean it was with someone. It hits me that the previous time I had the thought the dog looked like a pet, not a stray. It was well cared for and had a collar. I saw nobody that time and didn’t this time, either. But, there could have been someone just over the ridge, like the dog seemed to be responding to now.

Again, the next few days were consumed by the experience in the Park, but also with the sighting of the dog. Maybe the dog being near when I am there isn’t “a coincidence of epic proportions” after all.

It becomes consuming, again. I not only masturbate to the thought of the dog, but I stand in front of the mirror, my legs spread as I run my fingers over my cunt lips where the dog had licked. It is a poor substitute using my fingers, but I imagine them being the tongue of the dog. I rub harder, press on my clit, slipping one and two fingers inside. As my body moves closer to an orgasm, I look from my fingers on my cunt to my face and eyes. I watch as my eyes slowly lower to slits, then open wider and roll back so I see nothing as the orgasm takes hold of me.

I moved quickly to the living room window and brazenly stood almost against the glass as if I wanted the entire world to see how aroused my body looked. I was so turned on that my hands rose to take hold of my tits, fondling them and pinching my nipples. As my excitement began to rise, renewed, one hand slid down my stomach and between my legs. I was lazily stroking my cunt and clit when my eyes focused on the Sanjay Gandhi National Park in the distance. Somewhere in that Park, a dog might be roaming around. He may be brought to the Park by someone, but he has some freedom of movement. Whoever is with him doesn’t seem to stay so close that either of the times I have seen the dog have I seen a person. Of course, the next time might be different. It was another risk. But, trying to meet up with one of the stray dogs that run wild throughout the city and region would be a far bigger risk. They are wild and brazen and unpredictable, even dangerous. Not only would there be the same risk of being seen with it, but many are said to carry rabies and other diseases. It is rumored that some are even turning a bluish color from toxins they have come into contact with.

I returned to the Park even more committed. As I began my climb up the slope from the path, I saw a dog, maybe the same dog by the appearance, sitting at the ridgeline a little further past my hiding spot. As I climbed up to the same location I had used past times, it’s impossible to watch my footing and the dog. When I stopped to look, the dog was gone. When I reach my spot and looked all around to see if anyone was nearby or watching from a distance, I still didn’t see the dog.

I resign myself to having to be satisfied with masturbating, but this time I decided to add to my experience of flexibility and risk by removing my shoes, jeans, and panties completely. I was standing in my covered location, peeking through the branches and over them, looking down at the path below and the surrounding expanse around me. Seeing nothing that raised any concern, and no dog, I unsnapped my jeans and lowered the zipper. I pried off my shoes and, with a final look around, push both my jeans and panties over my hips and down my legs.

I had become entangled in my own clothes somehow. Something I do routinely had suddenly become complicated. My skinny jeans and panties were bound up around my ankles. I bent over to push harder to get them over my feet when I should have sat down and pulled the ends of the jean legs over my feet. Instead, I am doubled over, my ass sticking up with my hands at my ankles and feet working at the cloth bundled in an unyielding mess.

When I felt something wet slide over my ass, my mind attempted to switch from the problem of my clothes to the feeling behind me. The second swipe of wetness caught me between my thighs and covered the length of my cunt. My mind reacted in surprise, fear, and joy all at the same instant. I thought I was alone. I even looked specifically for the dog. Suddenly, as if he were a ghost that didn’t make any sound, he was licking my ass and cunt. I stumbled forward, falling and landing on the ground, rolling onto my back.

I looked down along my body to see the dog sitting at my tangled feet. Again, it seemed like the same dog with the same well cared for and well-trained demeanor. I could see a medallion hanging from the collar, but I couldn’t make out what it said. This was definitely a pet and it didn’t have the look of a pet who was lost. I struggled to my knees and looked around the area, again. If this was a pet, its owner might be nearby. Or, perhaps the owner brought the dog out here to run and chase rabbits and such and was trained well enough for it to return on its own. The rules explicitly required all dogs to be on a leash, but that was only a rule and people flaunted rules all the time.

I was leaning forward to peer through some branches when the dog did it, again. His wet snout bumped into my spread thighs and the feel, more than the bump, caused me to fall forward, again. This time I fell through some branches and the sound was unmistakable. That, of course, meant I had to scan around the area all over, again.

When I settled back down on my butt, I watched the dog as he watched me. My eyes drifted down his body and he was very definitely a ‘he’. Underneath his belly was a large sheath with a reddish tip poking out. The color was only the first thing that seemed different about it. My only experience with cocks was Prakash and that narrow experience and previous curiosity became evident here. I didn’t know the dog’s cock would be different, but it was.

His cock, though, wasn’t what I was interested in except for the satisfaction that the dog was a male. Somehow, it seemed important for the dog to be male if it licked my cunt. It would be later before that thought would seem significant to me. Why would my cunt being licked by a female dog or human be different?

I had my opportunity in front of me, sitting quietly, patiently. And, there I was, my jeans and panties down at my ankles, my shoes off to the side. And, I was outside where I wanted to be. I leaned forward, trying not to do anything that might frighten the dog, and pulled the jeans from my feet, then the panties. I piled them next to my shoes and patted my thigh as the only way I could think of to attract the dog. I added, “here, boy”, and to my continued surprise and delight, the dog moved forward. If I was going to let this dog get personal with me, I wanted to get to know him just a little, anyway. The medallion on his collar read, “Sheru”, a Golden Retriever. His fur was well groomed despite what he picked up chasing through the brush. The name Sheru means lion or tiger and given my circumstance, the name fit with the danger I was feeling.

I poked my head up and looked around, once more. It wasn’t that I heard anything causing alarm or concerned, it was just nervousness. I was about to do what I had dreamed about since the last scary encounter.

With my hands on the side of his head, “Sheru, I want to be your special friend and I want you to do something very special for me. I am sure, or at least I think I am sure, you haven’t ever done anything like this, but …”

I shook my head and looked into the eyes of the dog. “What in the world am I doing? I’m talking to you as if you are going to understand. I’m nervous, Sheru. The talking is for my own nerves.”

I leaned forward and his tongue came out quickly and licked my face from my chin, over my lips, and to my nose. I giggled. Maybe he understood more than I gave him credit for. I took a deep breath and lay back to the ground. He was between my legs and I spread them further. This was unusual for me, too. I had never had anyone, or thing, lick or kiss me there. He and I were both going to be discovering things here. I took another deep breath, wanting very much to do this, but at the same time not believing I was about to do this.

On my back with my legs wide open, I closed my eyes, and silently prayed I would not be attacked or mauled in the process of whatever happened next. I lifted my knees and spread them out the way I had been doing before when I masturbate with the dildo. I knew I am wet; I have been constantly. I raised my head and looked at the dog. His snout was sniffing and I knew he was picking up my scent. As his head lowered toward my crotch, I sucked in a lung-full of air. I held my breath in anticipation. My head still up, I watched with excitement and disbelief. His snout was right there. I felt the air he expelled from his nose over my cunt lips. It sent a chill through my body despite the warmth of the day. I put my head back and moaned at the sensation, but when his tongue came out and licked the entire length of my cunt, I groaned and moaned over and over as his tongue greedily lapped at my sex, which I was sure was leaking fluids and providing him with more incentive for licking.

I was quickly beside myself with the sensations and emotions crashing through me. I was outside; I was being licked by a dog; I was nearly naked outside; my naked and exposed sex was spread out; I could hear the airplane above, see the airplane; I could hear the birds nearby, the faint hum of traffic on the expressway near the Park; I was outside. My body was rising to an orgasm! Outside! By a dog! A dog was the first male of any kind to lick my cunt. And, it was wonderful.

I wanted more. I wanted it to never end. I pulled my knees up to my chest, pushing my knees to the sides, completely and vulgarly exposing my cunt to the hungry tongue of the dog. I never felt so wanton, so vulnerable, so exposed, so at risk … and I never wanted it to end.

But it was about to. My orgasm was rising to an unbelievable height. I felt like I might explode from my cunt outward. I clawed at my tee-shirt and bra, my fingers struggling to get underneath to mash my nipples, to pinch them, and to twist them. The pain was delicious and added to the rising sensations from the tongue, that wonderful tongue. Then, it happened. My legs started shaking and flexing like wings of a struggling grounded bird. When my orgasm crashed over me, I thrust my hips into the air as if that action might somehow create a more intense contact with the tongue.

I remembered hearing a cry but it was moments before it dawned on me that the cry came from me. When that dawning settled on me, I scrambled from the dog to find my jeans and shoes. I quickly got dressed, tying my shoes before fully pulling my jeans up. I stood and looked around nervously as I fastened the snap and zipper. I smoothed my hair and brushed the grass, leaves, and dirt from my clothes as best I could. I looked around again, then exited my spot, worried that someone might have heard the cry and come to investigate.

Not seeing anyone coming, I took several deep breaths to calm myself as I descended to the path. Then, a whistle, a loud and demanding whistle, carried through the air and the dog, Sheru, went bounding higher up the hill. Oh, no … the dog did come with someone!

CHAPTER THREE:

Again, the after-experience of what happened in the Park consumes my existence in several ways. Not the least is the overwhelming sensory effect that exceeded anything my imagination could anticipate. But, close behind those emotions was the chilling awareness that the dog was not there alone, that his owner had been nearby.

In short, the experience was EVERYTHING I could have hoped for at the time! I achieved a mind-shattering, body-shaking orgasm that wasn’t self-induced. In fact, it was the best, most intense, stunning, and consuming orgasm of my life. And, something I had never experienced, I was the sole attention of a male while having any form of sex. The dog … a dog! … was the first male to fully focus his efforts on giving me sexual pleasure. Whether, in reality, the dog was really focused on an effort of giving me an orgasm or merely enjoying the scent and leakage coming from my cunt, the result was the same. The dog gave to me without the condition that I was expected to give to him in any way or form. My whole experience previously had been the dutiful effort of marriage for the production of a family. The idea of sex merely for its own pleasure, sharing, joy, and devotion had been unknown. A dog showed me what the sex act could be.

But, there was also the chilling effect produced by hearing the whistle and seeing Sheru’s immediate response. There could be little question that the whistle was intended for Sheru. The issue, though, was that the person behind the whistle appeared to allow the dog significant freedom to wander on his own. The risk of others in the Park finding me during any such activity was suddenly minimized by the question of the person who was calling the dog.

I was a woman on fire, though. That vision and memory consumed not only every time I masturbated but became increasingly difficult to consider any other course of action in my new twistedly erotic consideration. I became slightly abusive of my own body. Standing before the mirror, it was as if my reflection was taunting me to action as I twisted, pinched, and pulled my nipples. I did the same to my clit, those nubs throbbing from the aggressive attention I gave them while my eyes focused on the action, my eyes seeking the eyes of the woman in the mirror as if I was beseeching her to stop. But, it continued and grew in very small steps. I attached clothespins to my nipples as I shoved the dildo into my cunt. Who knew pain could be so enticing, erotic.

There was nothing to do, I realized, but to experience more and I found the increased risk of exposure, being found, was increasing the intense desire to do something more.

Something more was the key. I could easily go back to the Park and masturbate and I did. The dog was around, I saw it, but it seemed held back somehow. It even seemed to see me, but it never came. I saw it look at me, directly at me, then backward, back and forth before running away from me. It sent chills down me that day when I questioned if the dog’s owner was keeping it from coming to me. Did the owner know I was there or was it merely a coincidence of timing? And, if it was timing, then the dog might come to me and the owner come shortly after. The thought sent a chill through me. It also excited me. It also worried me. I was becoming so needy of release and experience. It was seeming like a spiral of need and craving, the end of which I didn’t understand.

This took hold in my mind increasingly. What could I do to experience new elements of risk without involving the dog or brazenly being naked or nearly so in Park? I had previously gone out for walks in the neighborhood around the apartment without underwear on. That was thrilling at the time, but in consideration of what I had done in the Park, it was very safe. I considered how I could project that type of experience to another level. I came up with wearing one of my sarees with only a top. I had several that were semi-sheer and others that were solid. As I considered the idea, I wondered if a semi-sheer was too much of a risk. Of course, putting active thought into the idea had the predictable effect of pushing me in that direction.

I went outside wearing a saree and focused on where I might walk, sit, pass shops, etc. I watched myself in windows of shops and any mirror I might find inside shops. Wearing a saree in India is common and natural. There is no more thought to it than wearing a dress in Western countries. A Saree, though, is not anything like a dress.

The Saree is essentially wrapping a length of fabric around your body. Normally, the wrap is over a form-fitting top, which is over a bra. Below, a petticoat over panties is worn. In a normal application, wearing both top and petticoat, you hold the saree inner end with the left hand, making sure the bottom is at floor level, tucking the top border into the petticoat. The saree is passed around the front while maintaining the same height to the floor. Keeping the top edge level, tucking a little into the petticoat to keep the saree firmly in place. Pleats are formed by folding from the right and tucking the edge. Tucking the pleats into the petticoat, the pleats should fall straight. Then, bringing around the saree, holding it to the right and passing it to the left, arranging the border evenly. Then d**** it over your left shoulder allowing the end piece to fall casually.

It is often, if not generally, worn with a bare mid-drift. I studied it in the mirror. The way it is worn and hangs, it must be worn with a top because of how it hangs and d****s. Below, however, from the waist down, the body is covered, with or without a petticoat. I was curious, though, about wind. I retrieved a floor fan and arranged it near the mirror. I took the saree off and removed the petticoat. How do I do the tucks without a petticoat? Perhaps by just using a thin belt? I put a thin belt at my hips, then put the saree back on. It takes several minutes and I was careful to make the tucks secure each time. Having tucks give way without a petticoat would be most embarrassing. Once completed, I turned the fan on at a low speed to test a normal wind speed in the streets due to wind and trucks and cars. As I turned, it was possible for the folds to rise up when the air caught it just right. I found, though, that for my ass to fully show, I needed to take the fold by hand and pull it across the back of my legs. It was an elaborate effort, but it was possible to do and it involved several risks depending on the tucks, the security of the belt, the wind, and the material.

I knew where this was going, too. The risks were all manageable and that was becoming unacceptable. I needed the element of risk. I needed the element of not having everything within my control. I elected to use a semi-transparent saree material. Normally, it is worn over an elaborate top or fashion bra along with a patterned petticoat since some of it might be visible. The sheer sarees are very much worn with fashion tops and bottoms.

I tried on a semi-sheer saree but selected one that was heavily patterned and less sheer as a result. The eye would be caught by the overlapping patterns and material layers.

I knew where I wanted to walk. It was very populated with old and young and quite busy. It would be perfect. I live in the Sunder Nagar district which is bordered by New Link Road to the west and Swami Vivekanand Road to the east and Goregaon – Mulund Link Road to the south. Between these is a district known for educational institutes including schools and colleges.

Sunder Nagar is mostly Hindu (75%) and the rest is mainly Muslim. There are bakeries and other shops in the area. I intend to focus my walk along Sunder Nagar Road past many shops, a school, and several colleges with my destination being the Sunder Nagar Garden. This is a large green space with activities for all ages. A playground for young c***dren and families and football, cricket, and badminton grounds for teenagers and young men (mostly). There is a walking track of 600 meters.

When I exited the building, I was immediately hit with the feeling of exposure. Whether or not I was mattered little. The people who looked my way as I merged onto the walk I was convinced were seeing through my saree below my waist. The further I walked, the more comfortable I started becoming as I found the people coming toward me were not staring transfixed at my groin. But, the people behind me became my concern. I noticed that even I tended to notice the backs of people because your options are restricted when surrounded by others.

I moved off the side and stopped. I quickly turned to look into people’s faces but did not find evidence of anyone smirking or staring at me.

I walked the entire Sunder Nagar Garden grounds and spent most of my time away from the family area, just in case. There was a group of young men playing football and others standing along the sides watching. I surveyed the area and chose a place away from the activity but near enough to be watching. I looked around to determine where people were, then reached behind and pulled the saree fold across the back of my legs to expose my ass and legs. I felt the air move over my bare skin and it felt so wicked. It was what I felt at Sanjay Gandhi Park, but this was a populated, busy area. I quickly dropped the folds back in place, fussing with it to be sure it had fallen completely.

I was literally dripping when I returned to the apartment. I knew, someday, I would take the chance to do much more. How I would love to be naked under a semi-sheer saree. But, I could never do such a thing. I had enjoyed it so much and continued for so long that I was running out of time for having dinner ready when Prakash returned from work. He was meticulous in his timing, always where he intended to be when he intended to be there. He insisted his life run a set and predetermined course and schedule. To him it was everything. I was realizing how stifling it was for me. I was feeling more and more stifled by this life and existence. I had this personal expectation to serve, but there was less and less to give. My life was becoming an endless repetition of mundane duties. The only things he wished from me was cook, clean, and provide a restive environment for him when he returned from his work. My newfound erotic cravings were making this existence seem less and less tolerable. I also knew, though, there was nothing to be done about it. It was my life. It was the life I was given to have, to serve my husband. If I somehow managed to find other pleasures, no matter how thrilling and engaging they might be, I had little real alternative in life than the situation I had.

I went back to searching the internet. I was intrigued by what I saw of the dog. A reddish cock with a pointy tip? I thought a cock was a cock. This wasn’t.

I was shocked by what I found on the internet. I searched for information on dog cocks and found plenty of that. I found scientific information about the averages of cocks based on breed and size and similar information about human males that included comparisons based on ethnicity. There were dog cocks every bit as big as the average size of men. But, as I found just by looking at the tip of Sheru in the Park, the shape and function of dog cock were very different. Not the least of the difference was a bulbous formation at the base of the cock that was similar to a ball. I was intrigued that it was an evolutionary effort to improve insemination of the female dog by locking the two together when the knot had swelled inside the female.

I sat back and looked at the pictures of the dog cock, my focus continually diverted to the knot. I wondered if that knot wasn’t painful. My curiosity led to a modification of the search. I was curious if there was anything showing dogs fucking and possibly with a human woman. I don’t know how I could be surprised by anything I found on the internet, anymore. There were pages of search results. I found pictures of women penetrated by dogs, their cunts distended by the knot inside. I went to retrieve my dildo, turning it to a higher setting, and inserting it into my own cunt before continuing my review on the computer.

My next venture of ‘research’ turned to videos. The fucking of dogs was crazy and frantic. Many seemed to require some help at some point as the dog seemed to have a difficult time penetrating the woman and staying on her. I went back to search for that question. I found that dogs initiated penetration with little or no exposure of their cocks from the sheath. Most of their erection normally occurred during penetration and early fucking. Then, the knot eventually formed with increased blood flow and they were locked together before his climax.

The most intriguing photos and videos to me were the ones capturing the knot inside the woman’s cunt, then the gaping hole in her after the dog finally pulled out. The videos showing the volume of cum streaming out was surprising. I happened on a looping video of the knot coming out and cum streaming out with it. I let it loop repeatedly as I assisted the dildo with my fingers, climaxing myself with a shattering orgasm in front of the laptop.

I quickly looked at the clock on the lower right of the screen, then relaxed as I found plenty of time. I walked to the large window and stood before it, my fingers casually exploring my wet and very pliable cunt lips and opening after the nice orgasm. I squeezed my nipples with the other hand as my eyes rose to the Sanjay Gandhi National Park in the distance. I had one extended experience with a dog. Only one. I hadn’t been able to get it out of my head since. I wanted that experience, again. The same experience, even with the recognition of the danger that there was an owner in the area somewhere. Now, though, the craving had morphed into something much more, more involved, more obscene, more bestial, and more dangerous. Being seen masturbating would be bad. Being seen licked by a dog would be worse. But, being seen fucked by a dog? Yet, each step in my imagining sent my heart racing, my breath was taken away, and my cunt dripping.

Could I allow myself to be fucked by the dog? His cock tip was showing. He must have had some recognition of the situation and potential, even if he hadn’t been with a woman, the scent was there and he would key on that. Perhaps, if I avoided the knot, it could be managed. If I could avoid being tied to the dog, it could be like being licked. Then, the risk wouldn’t be any greater.

As I stood before the large window, my fingers idly touching my nipples and cunt lips, I thought about the pictures and videos I had seen on the computer screen. The knots seemed so large compared to the cocks, how did they penetrate? But, if they can manage it to a dog bitch, it can certainly happen to a woman. That was obvious based on the videos and pictures. Could I do this new thing? It’s one thing to masturbate and it’s another to let a dog lick you. What about letting a dog mount you, fuck you? Could I do that? Could I do that out there, in the open, almost?

Again, I really didn’t question where my resolve would lead me. It was almost like I was on some kind of path that I didn’t know where it would lead, but I knew I couldn’t get off, either, even if I wanted to get off. And, I wasn’t sure I would want to. I had been ignored for so long, frustrated for so long. What was happening to me now was beyond my imaginings and fantasies. At times, it was almost like I didn’t care what might happen to me, but it did matter and I did care. I had to care. I would have nothing if …

I ambled along the path and pretended interest in the sights to allow the other people who had been surrounding me to move ahead and around the bend in the path. This seemed to be an unusually busy day in the Park. I hadn’t noticed anything special about the day, but something must be bringing the crowd out. Maybe, it might just have been the beautiful day. A storm had gone through the night before leaving clear skies and air that seemed somehow fresh, which isn’t normal for a city with this many people, traffic, and industry.

When I decided it was safe to move off the path and not draw attention, I started up the slope, scanning the hillside in front of me and above as I picked my footing. I was thinking this might not be a day when the dog was here when I suddenly heard a playful bark ahead and to my left. It was a single sound that seemed more like a greeting than a series of barks indicating a playful exercise. I stopped, looked up, and watched as the dog came bounding along the hillside. Interesting to me that it wasn’t coming directly toward me or searching the ground as it might if searching for a ball or stick thrown, but it seemed to head in the general direction of the location of our previous meetings.

I wasn’t sure if that was rational, but I hurried my pace while I scanned around me with particular attention to the area the dog had come from, half expecting to find a human following at a distance in search of his pet.

I stood just outside the cluster of brush and small trees that created my protected space. I continued to scan above and below for anyone else walking off the path. As I was, the dog ambled to me, stopping 20 feet in front of me. When I glanced down, I found him patiently sitting as if awaiting my direction. It was the same dog. I didn’t even need to look closely at his medallion gently swaying beneath his collar, the reflection of sunlight glinting off the shiny metal. I found myself relieved it was the same dog and nervous at the same time. The relief came from a feeling of expectant familiarity. The nervousness came from a sense of pushing my luck with repeated encounters with the same a****l that had to be in the Park with an owner who had to be somewhere in the general area. Even if this owner was trusting and tolerant enough to allow the dog considerable free-rein to wander and chase, which time would he happen upon to follow close by?

I pushed that thought aside, however. These encounters with the dog had become something I could no longer logically explain or rationalize. I felt as though my life had changed into a mundane, routine, and rote existence that had no other meaning then filling the time space between the experiences I devised for myself, experiences that had an increased risk but also reward. My dull and ordinary life seemed to be now careening down a mountain road of sharp curves and switchbacks while my brakes were slowly leaking fluid and the ability to control my descent. As frightening as the danger was, the feeling of exhilaration and being alive was greater.

When I moved into the midst of the growth, Sheru followed behind me. I knelt in front of him and he licked my face playfully. I giggled at the feeling of him covering my face. The feeling coming over me wasn’t that of a playful pet giving licks but of a male kissing me. It was in my head and I knew that, but it had been so long since I had received eager attention my mind made the jump of acceptance immediately.

Without any more concern about my surrounds or the act I was about to attempt to perform, I reached under the dog and stroked his belly. When I touched his sheath, which was my goal, I think I flinched as much as the dog did. He stood briefly but sat back in the same spot he had been, apparently willing to accept these advances from me. Then, I thought maybe I could make my intentions a little more obvious even to a dog. I sat back, removed my shoes and socks, then stood and pushed my jeans and panties off my hips and down my legs. He sniffed at me when I stood in front of him. When I spread my legs, his snout moved between my thighs sniffing before his tongue shot out and licked me, again. I shivered from the touch. The touch I had one time considered so outrageous and decadent was now only a prelim for much more.

I knelt next to him, my hand returning to his belly. When my fingers again found his sheath, his head moved to me, his tongue lapping at my face. I giggled. Not only did I happen upon a willing male, but one that was appreciative. While he licked my face, I stroked his sheath and felt his cock coming out. This was new for me. Prakash didn’t give the opportunity or show desire for playfulness during the limited sex we had. As my fingers stroked his bare, exposed cock, the dog flinched and whined. I remembered something I read online. Any cock protected in a sheath is quite sensitive when exposed. I brought my hand up to my face and licked it liberally, then let the dog lick it, and I returned to touching his exposed cock. I could feel a fluid coming from the tip and smeared it over my fingers. I moved the dog to the ground so I could see what I was doing to him and what effect I was having. I was surprised to see how much cock was now exposed. I could also see more fluid forming at the tip of his cock. The more I smeared over my fingers and transferred to his cock, the more fluid formed. It was truly an interesting organ for my inexperienced mind to behold. A narrow tip that grew thicker and narrowing slightly toward the sheath.

With him on the ground, I moved to his snout, my knees positioned on either side of it. He was immediately aware and reached forward to lap at my drooling cunt. Cunt. Using that words before was so base and decadent. Now, a dog lapping at it after I had been fingering his cock, cunt seemed to be the perfect word for it, maybe for me, especially if I continued along the direction I was headed.

I looked down at him, then listened intently around me. I rose as high as I could while remaining on my knees. I neither saw nor heard anyone around me. It was now or back out. This was too much. I couldn’t back out now! I had to see what it was like.

I moved to my hands and knees like I had seen on the internet. The dog came up behind me, licked at my cunt and ass several times, then he seemed to take over. He jumped onto my back, his front legs going around my waist. The feeling of fur on my lower back was sensuous. The first stab of his cock at my butt woke me up and reminded me of how wrong and right this was. A dog was on my back and he was probing with his cock to find my cunt opening. He probed and probed. His cock was striking my butt cheeks and around my cunt. The pointy, bony cock hurt after a few stabs. He released me and I felt as frustrated as he sounded as he walked around me before he remounted me. This time I tried something different. He was extended out of his sheath. I watched with fascination as his extended cock bobbed beneath him as he walked around me. All he needed was to penetrate me, then I was sure we would be good.

I reached back, first around my hip but that was too awkward. I shifted my hand between my thighs, felt his cock stabbing at me, felt it glance off my palm and hit me near my cunt. I shifted my hand up slightly and the next stabbing slid over my palm and into my opening. I pressed back against him and he used his front legs to pull me back and himself forward, driving his cock deep into me. I reached back to hold his hind leg, just for a moment, in case.

It was delirious! A cock! I had a cock inside me, again! It felt wonderful and amazing and perfect and decadent. I felt everything he did to me. He relaxed his front legs slightly, moved forward and took me firmly with his legs, again. His fucking was like nothing I had experience. True, my experience was marginal, but nothing I imagined prepared me for the onslaught of fucking I received. I gasped and moaned in a continuous chorus of muted sounds, barely maintaining some awareness of my surroundings and circumstance.

I felt something banging against my cunt on the outside, pressing against my lips and opening, pressing and stretching my opening. For moments, I was too consumed by the experience to connect what was happening. When it did, I tried pulling away from the a****l, fearing the knot entering me, but his legs around my waist held me in place. I was just a bitch to him at this point. He was mating and his instinct was to knot me. The more I squirmed and moved, the more movement there was of his cock inside me. He was stabbing me, rubbing along my cunt walls, penetrating me deeper than I had been fucked before by my husband. My body reacted the only way it could with all the stimulation, a****listic nature of the act, and my mind’s overdrive of conflicting feelings. I orgasmed!

One moment my entire body burst into bliss, excitement, and ecstasy. The next moment that ball of flesh on the base of Sheru’s cock was inside my cunt. My orgasm must have loosened my opening, eliminated just enough resistance. His cock drove suddenly deeper inside me. The knot felt massive inside me, filling me more completely. His cock was still driving at me, but the knot restricted his movement. I forgot about the ramification of the knot and only focused on what was happening inside me. The cock and knot were both growing, swelling. He pulled back against my opening to thrust further into me, but the knot restricted him. Instead, something unexpected and unknown happened. The knot pressed against me inside, somewhere inside me and behind my clit. Whatever it was, the pressure was electric and intense, jolts of fiery erotic stimulation coursing from my cunt into my body. I felt it on my clit, in my nipples, and sent chills and goosebumps up my neck and into my scalp.

I was crashing into another orgasm when I felt his cock inside jerk and pulse violently. The next sensation was my cunt being washed in warm spurts of dog cum. I cried out. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to or intend to, but my mouth joined the rest of my body in joyous release.

As my body descended from the orgasmic peak previously unconquered, my mind rose up to the turmoil of my situation. Not only did I joyously cry out my euphoria, I was now tied to the dog. My mind replayed the videos I had seen. The women were stuck to the dog for moments, maybe many. How was I to know? The videos were snippets of action only. Suddenly, my ears heard sounds everywhere around me. The smallest sound of a leaf in the wind against the twig was some person crashing through the brush concealing me.

The dog whimpered as he tugged to free himself. He had done something I thought should be impossible. He raised his leg over me and was now standing facing the opposite direction. We were ass-to-ass. I had seen it in videos, but somehow it didn’t seem so significant then. I didn’t understand. I hadn’t seen how the dog got into that position, only that he was. He pulled and I could feel my cunt pull away from my body. I gasped and shuddered. That same sensation was happening, again. The knot was pressing on that spot. I raised my hips up and the knot jammed against that spot inside me with extra effect. I realized I could cum all over again. I shivered at the thought. Twice, already, I have climaxed and I was thinking of doing so, again? Yes, I was! It felt so delicious, so obscene, so … decadent. A dog had just fucked me!

After another small orgasm, the knot seemed to stretch my lips and opening to escape. I fell to the ground and the dog lay near me and started licking his cock. I slipped my arm under my face and watched. I watched his tongue, the same tongue that had pleasured me, lick his own cock clean.

My hands trembled and shook as I got dressed in the confines of my hiding spot. Sheru had left minutes before. He seemed to crash through the brush and ran for the rise I saw him come over earlier. He seemed so noisy in leaving I delayed my leaving for many more minutes to avoid being seen also coming out of the same spot. In fact, I exited the opposite way. My legs were weak and shaky, uncertain underneath me as I made my way back to the path.

Back at home, I relive that experience over and over. If Prakash has been non-responsive to me, I was now to him. I thought only about that expereince. I relived it, seeing it in detail as if I were watching it happen to someone else. At night, I dream about it and feared that my sounds might alert Prakash to something unusual.

Standing in front of the mirror, again, naked and excited. When I stripped away the terror of the risk I took, what remained was the memory, the feeling of being fucked … finally, fucked. The feelings come back with fierce recognition and chilling excitement. New thoughts fight for consideration. Pushing aside the ever-present terror and fear for brief moments, the desire to relive those feelings come rushing in. In those moments, surrounded by the fear, was the recognition of fulfillment. Fulfillment of needs that have been missing, vacant for so long. Could I risk it, again? Could I not?

The mirror is my window into my soul and desires. I have come to see the image of myself as the real me, the me that demands to be released. And, that image is taunting me, challenging me, daring me. Her nipples are extended, even for her. I spread my legs for her to show me the cunt that enjoyed the dog. She smiles at me as her legs spread. I see her cunt lips as plain as her nipples standing out proud and pleading to be touched. I see her move a hand to a nipple, pinching it and smiling at me as she does it.

I looked at her in the mirror. “Slut”. “Bitch”. “Dog-bitch!” I looked at her face. Rather than be humiliated and ashamed, though, she smiled back at me. I try again, “Look at your cunt lips showing there, begging to be seen and used. You liked the dog parting those lips, didn’t you? You liked being a bitch for that dog.” She only smiled back at me. Her eyes shined with excitement at the memory.

I look into her eyes. I smiled at her and nodded my head in understanding. I understand her. I confessed to myself and her, “What I wouldn’t do for a man who could regularly give me this release and pleasure!”

CHAPTER FOUR:

I returned to the Park a couple more times, skipping a day in-between visits so as not to arouse suspicion from anyone, especially Prakash, if he should notice. The dog wasn’t there. One day I spotted a stray dog in the distance, but after Sheru I didn’t want to gamble on my safety with a stray.

On the third visit, as I climbed up the slope from the path, I spotted a dog in the same location where I had seen Sheru arrive before. This dog wasn’t Sheru, however. This was a German Shepherd, but it acted much the same way Sheru had. This dog came over the ridge, saw me and stopped. He seemed to look back at something and turned back to me. I took a chance on calling to it since despite not being Sheru it didn’t look like a stray. I bent over and clapped my hands together, then patted my thighs hoping it would take those actions as indicators of my calling him. I didn’t want to verbally call out to him for fear of drawing attention to me and my location.

As the dog trotted toward me, then moved faster as I continued to encourage him, I looked around to verify that I was still alone and not being watched, then stepped back into the brush and trees. The dog stopped outside, then followed the narrow path I had created into my hiding location, his tail wagging furiously.

I knelt on the ground and offered him the back of my hand. His sniffed it and allowed me to scratch his ear. Despite being a little intimidated by German Shepherds, this dog had an affectionate and playful disposition. Reassured by his attitude, I looked closer at him and found he had the same collar as Sheru’s. The medallion hanging from it read, “Balaji”, which I knew meant strong. Looking at the a****l, I had no doubts about that.

As I rubbed his neck, I felt something attached to the collar. I stood and looked at the object to find what looked like a cheap cellphone. But what would a dog be doing with a cell phone? I was still stroking the head and neck of the dog when I heard the phone start buzzing. I took it off the collar and opened it to find a text message had arrived. I open the messenger.

‘Yes, this phone is for you. I would like to communicate with you through it.’

What? I texted back, ‘Who are you?’

‘An admirer, only.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Nothing. Sheru is my dog. So is Balaji. I know you have enjoyed Sheru. I hoped you would also enjoy Balaji.’

‘You’ve seen?’

‘LOL. No. I have only seen Sheru go into the bushes with you. You have enjoyed him, haven’t you?’

Oh, no! Someone knows! ‘What do you want from me?’

‘I told you, nothing. I don’t know who you are and won’t try to find out. My only interest is in trying to help you.’

This was too much. Someone unknown to me knows what I have been doing! My worst nightmare if he were to tell someone, go public, have pictures. NO!

I burst out of the bushes and sprinted down the slope to the path. I was still running when I arrived at the start of the trail. When I stopped to catch my breath and compose myself, I realized the phone had buzzed several times. I opened it, again, finding a series of other text messages. I quickly shut the phone, jammed it into a back pocket of my jeans and left the Park.

I buried the phone in one of my shoes in the back of my closet. I ignored it for the rest of the day and night. I had to decide what I wanted to do. Did I need to plan now for the worst? What could I possibly plan? If I was exposed, I would be exposed. What possible explanation or story could I concoct to explain away such a revelation?

I fretted all through dinner, the evening and throughout the night. I tossed and turned, getting little sleep as my mind imagined all sorts of possibilities, all bad. All through the following day, evening, and night, it was only marginally better. The day after I began thinking the person on the other phone might not have meant harm to me, after all. Then, another dreadful thought came to me. He had purchased both phones. Couldn’t he use the built-in GPS to track the phone I had? How did that work? Was that function he could manage or did he need to go through the cellular phone service to get that information?

I retrieved the phone from my hiding spot in the closet. I powered it up and looked at the text messages from before. I was struck by his last text: I told you, nothing. I don’t know who you are and won’t try to find out. My only interest is in trying to help you.

It was the last one sent before I shut the phone off. The other texts he sent were enquiring if I was still there. Obviously, I wasn’t. I sat down to think this through. All those encounters were with his dogs and he had been aware of it and continued to bring his dogs for me to encounter. Never had he approached or intruded. If he was there somewhere, he was a long way off. He never was close enough to see into the bushy area where I was and was never visibly close when I left. Maybe he didn’t want anything. Maybe he really didn’t intend to intrude on my privacy by finding out who I was. I wondered, then, what did he mean by ‘my only interest is in trying to help you’?

I prepared a text message and sent it. ‘What did you mean you only want to try to help me?’ I was expecting there would be a delay to get a response since I had waited several days. Instead, the phone buzzed almost instantly.

‘I am deeply sorry I scared you. Not my intention.’

‘Why are you doing this?’

‘You intrigue me. It was an accident that I saw Sheru going into the bushes. I wondered what he was doing.’

‘The first time when I shrieked?’

‘Yes, I wondered what he had done, but when you returned, I assumed it wasn’t bad.’

‘What did you think might be happening?’

‘I wasn’t sure at first, but when he returned to me, his cock was exposed some. The next time it was fully out.’

‘And?’

‘And I knew. He is a stud dog in my kennel. Balaji is too, by the way.’

There was a pause, an electronic silence hanging between us. I didn’t know what to say in return. He had known.

‘Say it. Say what he did to you.’

I stared at the phone. Say it? That’s absurd, why would I admit such a thing? To a stranger? But, it was his dog. He already knows. And, something was happening within me. This dialog, like it was flipping a switch inside me. Before I knew what I was doing, my fingers were flying over the little keys.

‘He fucked me. Your dog fucked me.’

‘Was it good? Was it what you were hoping it to be?’

‘More. It was beyond my imagining. I was trying to avoid the knot, but …’ Why am I telling him all this?

‘But?’

‘I orgasmed and the knot pressed inside.’

‘That’s when you cried out.’

He had heard it! ‘Yes. I loved it, though. I was just scared of being tied if someone came along.’ There was another electronic silence and I wondered if the connection was broken.

‘Can you come to the Park tomorrow, 11:00 AM? I will bring Balaji. I think you will like him, too.’

He’s setting me up for a rendezvous with his dog! I remembered the message, “I can help you.” Am I crazy? But, even he can tell I need this, desire it, crave it. The little bit he has witnessed, he understands me.

‘Yes. 11:00.’

I shut the phone and powered it off. My hands were shaking. I put the phone inside my running shoes I would be wearing tomorrow. Now I have someone pimping his dogs to me? I walked to the mirror in the bedroom and removed my clothes. I looked into the eyes of my image.

“He’s sending his dogs to you to enjoy. He’s sending his dogs to you to fuck.” I looked down at her chest to find the nipples becoming more erect, straining outward. I parted my legs and she duplicated the movement. Her lips were already glistening with her arousal. “You really are a dog-bitch, aren’t you? Even if all you can get is dog-cock, it is good enough.” Her eyes were sparkling, her mouth turned into a smile, and her head nodded.

I was giddy when I arrived at the Park and made my way to the location within the brush I had been using for my outdoor playing with the dogs. I noticed as I left the main path that my visits up the slope had begun wearing a faint path into the wild grasses. As I approached the cluster of brush and small trees that formed my secluded spot, I looked up to the ridge above and checked my watch. It was only a few minutes before 11:00 AM. I surveyed around me, checking into the distances, and was satisfied there was nobody else who might wander nearby.

I heard a bark and I looked in the direction of the sound to find a large dog similar to Balaji and the figure of a man against the background and sky. The dog bounded ahead of the man, stopped briefly, then bound down the slope toward me. The man stopped at the ridgeline and settled onto the ground. He was no longer hiding his presence, though he remained at a distance that I could not discern his features, therefore, he could not discern mine. Still, though, seeing the man I had been texting sent a shiver through my body as I watched the dog approach. The impact of the change in the situation hit me fully. The dog approaching me belonged to the man up on the hill who had arranged this time for all of us to be in the same place. And, the only reason for that arrangement of time was for me to be mounted by his dog. There was no longer any mystery about it. It wasn’t a question of if there was an owner of the dog. There was an owner of the dog, and he was right there on the hill.

I turned, stooped, and stepped into the area of brush and little trees. A moment later, the dog followed me. I was already kneeling when he came right to me. As I stroked his head and neck, I checked his collar and tag. It was the same German Shepherd, Balaji. He sat in front of me. I stroked him and, not knowing any other way, used the same approach to him that I had wit