Bewitched       John Stevens was the envy of every man he knew, because he slept nightly with a woman every man wanted to bed–his wife, Georgette.

They’d been together since high school, had the perfect marriage, and a house full of beautiful kids. They had six ranging in age from sixteen to six: Don, 16; Julie 14; Kay, 12; Roger, 12; Bobby, 10; Tabatha, 6.

Georgette was a mother and a great mother, a full-time mother. John made good money as a diesel mechanic at a large truck stop–a trucking megaplex on eighty acres where two major interstate highways crossed. This secure and stable job enabled Georgette to devote her life to raising their large family. She’d be quick to tell you that “mother” is a career if it’s done right.

Georgette had the look men ogled with a growing erection. When she was in her twenties, she was a cross between Mary Tyler Moore’s character on the Dick Van Dyke Show, Laura Petry, and Samantha from Bewitched. In manner and demeanor, she carried herself like Laura Petry–a dancer with feminine grace who wore form-fitting pants and blouses almost as a uniform, though she looked more like Samantha Stevens: blond and built.

As she matured, and bowed to John’s insistence that she wear only skirts and dresses, she looked strikingly like the sexy witch, Samantha. It was little Bobby that first saw her as Sam.

When she playfully made her nose twitch exactly the way Sam did, she became Sam from then on.

When her little girl was born, the baby’s name was unanimously forced on her–Tabatha. By then, Samantha Stevens and Georgette Stevens could be mistaken for twin sisters. Everyone called her Sam. Only the kids called her, Mom, but when they spoke of her, it was Sam. Likewise, Georgette called her mother, Mom, but referred to her as Endora in the company of others. They were Sam and Endora to everyone except offspring.

If John had one complaint about Georgette, it was her stubborn refusal to join him with a group of swingers he knew from work. The swingers were the white collar types with cushy jobs that involved no grease or busted knuckles. Getting a white shirt job was as easy as joining their swinging circle. Few grease monkeys were ever approached with an invitation, but John was approached weekly, and that was all due to his sexy wife.

Georgette was a frequent visitor to the truck center. While out doing her shopping, if she were nearby at lunch time, she’d stop and buy her husband a hot fast-food meal, then join him for lunch. After she’d stop by, John knew a white shirt would soon be along to corner him with more inducements. John was more than willing to share his sexy wife, and had done so many times in the past, but Georgette would not even discuss becoming a swinger.
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  I keep reading stories about beautiful girls who in some strange circumstance were forced to have sex with a dog or other animal and began to like it.

For me I have always been a fan of sex, but not being your typical blue eyed blonde or quite as shapely as other girls it has not always been easy getting the qaulity of sex that I would like. I’m only 105lbs and 5′6″. I have black hair and no real breasts or ass to speak of. But hello I’m female that still need attention.

At the time I was looking forward to my twenty first birthday thinking that it would perhaps initiate some change in my life, finalize my transition into adulthood. I don’t know why I had already learned that drunk guys have trouble getting it up and getting rubbed over by some inexperienced boy has always been more arousing than annoying.

I’m not saying that I haven’t had good experiences, just not enough. Maybe its because it has to have a thrill, boyfriends always seem to get old and girlfriends well that’s different, but I like the feeling of a hard hot cock stretching me and filling me up.

I’m not really sure how it all started, since I’ve been a preteen I’ve always enjoyed looking at porn on the internet. And about a year ago I started noticing animal porn. Not that I was into it, it totally freaked me out, but I liked it. The idea of somebody having sex with an animal. It sounded so wrong.

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   Dog cock pounded into every hole she owned, her body jerked back and forth, and sideways. Twisting, and turning her in every direction as they took their pleasure from her without concern for her own release. 20, 30, 50, a 100 different dogs used her for their enjoyment as if she were a racing car, or a spittoon, a mere object of no importance other than to dump their puppy making sperm into. And shame upon shame she had cum over, and over as they took her. Her pussy had surely torn, and she had to be bleeding from her ass as well with the over sized cocks of these intelligent alien hounds, and there seemed to be no end in sight. And then she spied a group of them leading a horse from earth towards her, just before passing out for the fourth time.

Renee woke up from her nightmare with a start, jerking up to a sitting position on her bed. Her beige Teddy, little more than a breath of sheer cloth, clinging to her sweat soaked flesh causing a chill to run through her as the air-conditioning slapped her wide awake. A quick look next to her confirmed that her husband Dale was still fast asleep snorting through his own dreams in dawn’s early light. The smile on his face made it plain that his dream was a hell of a lot more pleasurable than hers had been.
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   G’day all! I have a small cattle station in east central Australia. Of course here in Oz, “small” means about twenty or thirty square kilometers. When you’re grazing on scrub, though, it takes heaps of real estate to raise just a small handful of beefers. It’s bloody hard work and hell knows I’ll never get rich, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world!

Well I reckon if you’re reading this, you’re not so much interested in me as in my mates. I’ve got three of the best helpers a cattleman could ask for. They’re Queensland Heelers. I expect that if you’re in some other part of the world, I’ll have to explain just what that is. They’re a breed of working dog, tough as nails. They have to be; anything less just wouldn’t survive out here. They’ll work all day in the hot sun and want more. All that aside, they’re lovely to look at, too. When they’re not all covered in muck anyway. They’re a mix of black and silver that gives them a sort of bluish colour, with tan on the legs and throat, and a bit more over the eyes. The ears stand like those of a German shepherd.

Bluey is the oldest at nine years; he’s the sire of the other two. Then there’s Luke and his sister Addie. They’re four years now. Bluey is the undisputed top dog and Luke is just a wee bit submissive. Addie is respectful of Bluey though she doesn’t take any rubbish from Luke! These dogs are part of my life in every way, not just working partners.

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