Brutus - Sex Stories

Brutus

... the table top. “If you turn around and roll over, I think Brutus will answer that for you” I tell her. I see Brutus sitting there quieting waiting. Linda takes a deep breath, trying to regain control of her body, enough at least to continue with this assault on her senses. It takes her a minute, but she slowly pulls herself on the table top and stares into my eyes, she asks “what now oh great and wonderful OZ?” I am relieved that she still has a sense of humor; that is a good sign. “Would you believe, ‘doggie style’”. “Doggie style?” she all but laughs, “does he know how that works’? “Drop that ass to the floor and rest your head on the table. That’s right; ass up and ready for action.” She seems a bit too relaxed so I warn her, “You had better grab a hold of the table edge if you don’t want to end up with your face in the carpet.” Brutus knows what to do and slams into her, pinning her hard down on the table. With his front paws tightly wrapped around her waist, he drives that hard pointed dog cock into her. I am always amazed at how fast and hard he can pump that cock of his. He continues to slam into her like a jack hammer, holding her tight between those big paws. His head rests sideways on her back, his tongue out soaking her with spit. “Damn, too bad he can’t do that ...

... forever”, I observe to myself. “Of course, then I wouldn’t ever get laid” He continues to rock her ass while she moans deep in her throat, primitive passions imprisoning her on the table. At times it sounds like she is growling, her mind trying to join Brutus’ animal world, lost in the feelings assaulting her senses. Brutus releases another load of hot dog cum deep inside her, his cock pulsating with each shot. Linda’s body jumps with each shot of his hot, sticky cum, until he is completely spent, and she lays there, limp on the table with Brutus total spent collapsed on her back. Brutus slips off her back, having had enough, and limps to the back door. I open it and let him out to recover. Linda hasn’t moved since being flooded with cum. Her hair is pasted flat against her head, soaked with her sweat and the dog’s cum. I sit on the couch and watch her rapid breathing and see the blood rushing through the veins in her neck. Her eyes are open but glazed over with the fog of passion. She remains unmoving on the table, until I reach down and scoop her up. Carrying into the bedroom, she kisses my neck and whispers in my ear, “love that knot in a dog’s dick.” She is soon asleep on the bed, her legs quivering every so often when memories of the night’s events stream back through her mind.