Rosa stood at the edge of the dusty road and gazed off into the distance. The unforgiving South Texas sun baked the landscape and buildings, and brought out beads of perspiration on Rosa’s arms and forehead. She had no idea why she continued waiting by the road each afternoon, Jimmy wasn’t coming home. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. The slender, young woman turned to see Pablito, a young pitbull, standing in her shadow. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, and brushed back her long, dark hair.

“Come on cachorrito,” she said to the dog, “it’s too hot today, let’s go in the house.”

Rosa had given Jimmy the dog for his birthday about a year and a half earlier; she noticed how much he had always admired pitbulls that belonged to his friends. Whenever he saw people walking them on the street, he would remark that he was “gonna get me one of those dogs.” Rosa smiled briefly as she remembered the expression of utter delight on Jimmy’s face when she had plopped the fat, gold-and-black brindled puppy into his lap. It was Jimmy’s twenty-first birthday, and his friend Pablo had stopped over with a couple of six-packs to help him celebrate. Pablo offered beers to Jimmy and Rosa, and spotted the pup in Jimmy’s lap.

“Hey, you guys got a puppy! What kind is it?”
“It’s a pitbull. I’m gonna train him to bite you if you come here when I’m not around!,” Jimmy joked.
“Aww, I wouldn’t do that, Jimmy. Rosa’s all yours, and she don’t even like me! That reminds me, when you guys gonna get married anyway?”
“Next year… maybe June, we’re thinking.”
“Cool. You could name a kid after me, maybe.”
Jimmy grinned. “I think I’m gonna name the dog after you instead, Pablo.”
“Hey that’s OK, too. He’s gonna be a tough guy like me, and not one of those wimpy li’l Taco Bell dogs!”
“Ohh, he won’t be too tough,” Rosa chimed in. “And he ain’t gonna bite nobody. We’re gonna raise him gentle…..”

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The following story is, for the most part, true. As usual, the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Of course, I won’t promise that there aren’t any slight exaggerations here…

I live in a more or less rural area where there are lots of country roads with farms, woods and a number of small neighborhoods here and there. I frequently take long walks around the area, both for exercise and to unwind from the pressures at work. Many of the homes and farms have dogs and various other animals and the dogs are frequently allowed to run free. Since many of the roads have little traffic, and the houses are not especially close together, roaming dogs don’t seem to get in quite as much trouble as they do in the cities and suburbs, and most stay fairly close to home. I’ve always been an animal lover (if you’re reading this you probably, as I do, love animals more than most people do!) and I have managed to make friends with most of the critters on my walking routes.

Occasionally, one or more of the dogs will join me on my walks, sometimes with the owner’s blessings, especially if my own dogs are not with me. A number of years back, I had set out for one of my long walks, usually averaging 6 to 8 miles. I had decided not to take my dogs along, as they were getting quite elderly at 13 and 15, and didn’t really like to go much more than a mile or two at a time.

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Fiction by Dingo Jay
   I’d like to tell you about my best friend. He’s a really great guy, though not much of a party animal. He listens to all my problems, but would never talk about me behind my back, no matter what we do together.

He’s my security system, my bed warmer, my garbage disposal, my truck-driving buddy and the best Frisbee partner I’ve ever seen. Well, almost. As you’ve probably guessed, he’s a dog. Now here’s the part that’ll throw you-he’s also my lover! Yeah, really. Yes, we have sex and all, but before I go there let me tell you some more about him.

Duffy is a mixed breed; the closest I can come to putting my finger on his exact ancestry is an educated guess. I figure he’s probably a mix of Australian Cattledog with Border Collie, or maybe Aussie Shepherd. Around these parts, that particular mix is fairly common and it’s called a Texas Heeler. He’s a medium to large dog in the 55-pound range, with long legs but a stocky build. His medium-length coat stands out just a bit and he’s mostly a mottled brick red and creamy white pattern, with some golden tan on his legs, muzzle and eyebrows, and white feet. His face and ears are more of the same brick red, except solid colored, with a fine, white blaze between his eyes. He has big, triangular ears that stand right up and about half a tail. I thought maybe his tail was docked or perhaps shortened in some accident, but it comes to a point so I guess it’s natural.

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  I was in for it now. My son-of-a-bitch husband had no one but himself to blame for making me the way I was…or found out I was. I didn’t bring a dog to our home; I didn’t constantly berate my marital skills. It was his fault, entirely, but I felt guilty about it. That is the way of the abused spouse.

I had a taste of dog and wanted more but had to be discreet and clever and deceptive and use my brain. I had no friends except those of which husband approved–who were his friends. I was me, myself and I + the dog. We were an item as far as I was concerned and I wanted more in spades.

“He’s lonely,” I said. “Needs a companion,” I said. Husband nodded. “We’ll see,” he said. I waited. That was only my other problem. My first problem is how does one tell a pet dog that loving to have your cunt licked and fucked all to hell is “a secret.” A dog is the first to let the world know of excitement, jumping and leaping at people and things–go fetch a ball which it will enthusiastically do time and again…and when the truth is the dog likes the licking and fucking the spunky drippy cunt…I mean, how to be discreet?

In my case, of course, I blamed the son-of-a-bitch. He started it. I was only a reluctant and embarrassed actor in the part he created. If he hadn’t brought the dog home–you know the rest of the story.

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But now I could hear mum reading him the riot act, and saying, if he didn’t escort me and my friend, that he wouldn’t be allowed out himself. As he passed my bedroom door once again, this time going back to his room, he said. You’d better be ready in 5 minutes, or else.

I hurriedly completed my face painting, to make sure I was ready before he had an excuse to leave me behind. I was dressed in a black very short witches dress, and hoop striped luminous woolly tights. Garry’s best buddy was Gordon, my friend June’s brother, he was the same age as Garry. So, as I would normally hang around with June, he would always be seen with Gordon. When I phoned June to make sure she was going to be ready in time, she said her mom wouldn’t let her go out. I explained that we’d be looked after by both our brothers, and she said she’d have another go at her mom.

I didn’t tell my mom that June had said she might not be able to go out, in-case she stopped me as well. We arrived at their house, and I could tell by the look on June’s face that she hadn’t been able to change her mom’s mind. So off I set on our nights Trick or Treating, me dressed as a witch, escorted by the two boys dressed as vampires. They made me walk in front of them, so it wasn’t as obvious that they were with me. Gordon had a torch, he was shining it in all directions, and he delighted in lighting-up my tights to make them glow every time a car was approaching us. After the initial sulking on their part, we were soon knocking on doors, and they were beginning to accept my company, without the continual moaning. We were all having fun and laughing and joking together.

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Patricia’s no movie star, model, or centerfold. But she could be, what with her face and that body. Luckily for me she decided to become my wife instead. Not too tall, and not too short, and built like a dangerous S turn down a screaming mountain road, Patricia, or Trish as I call her, was a dedicated party girl, from the very moment she reached puberty, some have said.

Not being one who wished to cramp such a high spirited slut, and having inherited the wherewithall to keep her in a custom to which would give her the most freedom, to express her natuarl talents without barriers, or restrictions normally placed on wedded spouces, was probably the biggest advantage on my side of the marriage bargaining table. In fact she fucked my best man in the bridal chambers before the wedding, and gave blow jobs instead of kisses to the men who lined up to pay her a buck at the reception back in the men’s room. Since the buck they gave her was a fresh crisp new hundred dollar bill, I thought it most appropriate myself. Hell, my father even went back for seconds.
Not a shy bone exists in Trish, and when I suggested that she try on a few of the locals on our honeymoon in Hawaii she ended up getting gang banged in the pool at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. That’s the swimming pool with the window connected to the basement cocktail lounge. And though no one in there saw her face they all oggled, belly up to the bar, as she took on no less than ten local men two at a time in both her tight pussy and ass in that lighted baby blue clorinated water just beyond the window behind the bar.

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One day, I had just got out of the shower and Muffy was waiting for me. She followed me into my bedroom. I didn’t really want her there because I wanted to beat-off. I was going to kick her out but thought she would just lie outside my door and that would look suspicious. So I pulled out the pictures that I had hidden in the closet. They were just underwear and bathing suit ads from catalogs and not nearly as good as the porno magazines I saw in the stores but they had always been good enough. I didn’t have a lock for the door, so I blocked it with a 2X4 under the handle. At first, I didn’t want Muffy to see so I got under the covers on the bed. I had a woody even before I looked at the pictures and began to stroke myself. Muffy just sat there and watched me, sometimes cocking her head sideways. I figured that if she wanted to watch, I would give her a show and pulled the covers off. It was not as if she would tell Mom about it. It was fun to have her watch me. When she got up and walked over to the bed, I grabbed my cock around the base and pointed it at her. She licked it. Damn, I didn’t expect that but it felt great. I tugged her in and stuck my cock in her face. She licked it some more and it only took seconds till I cummed on her face. She liked the taste and licked off her nose and the remains off my cock. I almost squirted again.

We did this several more times over the next week and I stopped looking at the pictures. Muffy would wag her tail as she followed me to my room and then lick until she got her reward.

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   I was getting naked when I heard a noise, thought someone was comming toward the shed looking for me. Grabbing my clothes and trying to put them on, in walks the daughters dog, a young German Shepard. I started breathing a little easier and started to pet the dog, that’s when he really gave me a scare. He started licking my prick, I was a little apprehensive to say the least. He seemed to enjoy it, he kept licking and my hardon started feeling really great. I layed down on some rags that were on the floor and the dog not only started licking my balls but got his tongue down to my anus. I started jerking my prick and the dog kept licking my ass. I had a fantastic orgasm, the dog licked it from my belly. I started spending more and more time with that dog, a lot of it was in the shed. I got him to let me put my prick between his teeth and, I guess you call them cheeks, and would pump in and out until I came. I guess this went on for three months or more, I was still enjoying it but I think I wanted more. I had moved are play into the house when noone was home, made it seem like I was entertaining and getting some strange stuff. On one of my days off I bought a bottle of Black Velvet and was planning on getting good and drunk.

Hadn’t done that in quite a while. I started drinking in the late afternoon and was well on my way to feeling good when my wife came home, she had gotten off early. It took some of the wind out of my sails but I figured I could give her a few drinks and she would fall asleep, two beers about does her in.

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