Animal Sex Stories

Animal Sex Stories-Atlas

Atlas
This Animal story was exclusively written for http://www.animalsexfun.com
The side door to the porch opens. You look up and see me standing there with a very large black Labrador. “Hey, this is Atlas and he’s lost and a very long way from home. I called the number on his tag but his owners can’t pick him up until tomorrow.” All the while I’m relaying this to you Atlas is sniffing and pushing his nose into my crotch. Looking at you and giggle and say, “It’s not like I’m on the rag but he’s been doing this to me ever since he found me. Could it be because I was masturbating just before we met?” I walk around Atlas.

Grab your hand and tug you out of your chair. “Let’s see if likes your crotch. Atlas, come here boy!” As he rushes up to us I step to the side and Atlas pushes his muzzle right into your crotch. I look at you and say, “Have you been masturbating recently?” You look me in the eyes. I laugh, “why did I even have to ask? of course you have.” I take notice that there’s a bulge forming in your jeans where the dog is rubbing his nose. “Looks like we’ve got us a dog, who really likes cum.” I look at you, raise my brows and smile. “You want to see if we can rock this dogs world,” looking down to see your ever growing cock, “and see if he can rock ours?” Not giving you a chance to answer, I shimmy out of my jogging shorts. Walkover plop myself onto the chair, spread my legs wide and pull the sides of my pussy apart. Atlas stops nuzzling you, scents the air, trots over to me and immediately starts lapping up the juices that have started forming in my cunt.
This Animal story was exclusively written for http://www.animalsexfun.com
I moan and writhe. Atlas licking up my cum as quickly as I can shoot it out. You help me pull my tank top over my head. You look down at your best friend with this marvelous dog between her legs. You pull off your own t-shirt, shed your jeans and boxers then get down on your knees and reach your hand under him, grab Atlas’ balls and massage them.
Atlas grows hard so you take him into your palm and start stroking him, while grabbing your own swollen cock, stroking it to. Licking and stroking, moaning, groaning and panting, hard cocks and a wet pussy. I try to form word but all that comes out is “More!” You gently push Atlas to the side, then grab me and slam me to my knees. And before either one of us knows what’s happening Atlas is mounting me.

Rearing back his hind quarters, pushing forward fast and hard and spearing my wet dripping hole with his long, hard dog cock. I scream! You stare in fascination as Atlas pushes in and out of me faster and harder than a speeding locomotive. You work your way around to my head and shove your rock hard cock into my mouth to silence my screams.
Automatically sucking and being pushed and pulled by Atlas fucking me. I start fucking you with my face. You find your rhythm with Atlas, so when he pushes, you push and slam your cock deep down my throat. You remove yourself from my mouth, stand up and straddle my head. You put your pre-cum soaked cock next to Atlas’ nose and when he open his mouth and licks the head of your cock you blow your heavy load into his mouth.
This Animal story was exclusively written for http://www.animalsexfun.com
Atlas with his mouth full of your cum, pushes hard into me. Pushing his knot into me also. I cry tears of ecstasy. I can feel the knot growing and growing. You reach between us and stroke my clit once, twice and I orgasm. Atlas pushes once, twice and he orgasms. Cum squirting everywhere. Running all over your hand. Me and you side by side, Atlas lying across us. I say, “When the owners come tomorrow why don’t we say Atlas ran away again.” Laughing we all start licking your cum covered hand.

April. Chapter one.

   Her first conscious thought was, I’m awake. She hadn’t opened her eyes just yet, but was aware of sounds and that she was cold. The second conscious thought was that she had a Blacksmith using the inside of her head as an anvil and was hitting a particularly hard piece of metal with a four-pound lump hammer.

She groaned and cursed red wine. She always got a hangover after drinking red wine and reminded herself of the often-made promise to stick to the voddy.

April then realised that she was naked. Not an unusual condition in the mornings, but along with her nakedness was a realisation that she wasn’t in her own bed. In fact, she wasn’t in a bed, but on the floor with some kind of fur rug under her. She unlocked her eyelids and was immediately sorry she did. The Blacksmith really began to go at the anvil inside her cranium. She closed her eyes again and groaned once more. But, not before they registered that she was in fact, lying on a sheepskin rug, face down with her wrists tied together and attached to a radiator tail.

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All Over Red Rover

In the past, Peter_Pan has steadfastly refused to encroach on the subject of bestiality. It is a genre I personally find without any sexual merit, implicitly droll as well as being completely demeaning to the female fraternity.

Having said that however, a chance conversation with a young lady this week and I stress, she is a teenage girl of impeccable pedigree and diligence, fully catalysed my thoughts on this arguably sordid topic.

Her experience, recounted with neither regret nor embarrassment fully shocked me, but at the same time opened my eyes to the possibility that such an eventuality, whilst hardly a domestic ritual may perhaps occur with a greater frequency than we are led to believe.

    This is Sophie’s story.

Like millions of young girls worldwide, the last thing Sophie felt like doing was getting out of bed – let alone going to school. Bed was safety, comfort, warmth – the surrogate womb if you will. It was a place to dream of growing-up, of future romance and of late, somewhere to caress her developing body with not a little TLC. At fifteen now, masturbation had become as frequent an event in her life as flossing those pretty teeth.

If there is anything measurably sexier than a cute young schoolgirl first thing in the morning winging her way to the bathroom just moments after she’s woken up, I can’t immediately nominate it. Tousled hair flopping across her shoulders as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. Youthful figure barely concealed by that semi-transparent nightdress that seems to cling to everything it shouldn’t. And remember, I have three daughters!
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