Lovers and Friends - Sex Stories

Lovers and Friends

I was sitting at my desk writing a story for my own entertainment. It was about three thirty in the afternoon and I began hearing a dog bark across the street. That’s what dogs do, so I didn’t think much about it. Suddenly I heard a scream out on the sidewalk in front of my house. I occasionally hear small children screaming outside but they’re playing and that’s what small children do when they play. This scream was different. It was about pain and fear and it made me shoot out of my chair and hurry the ten feet or so to the front door. I looked out and there was a young girl fighting with a dog on the sidewalk. The dog was the pit bull that lives across the street. She lives in a fence but apparently she had escaped and had attacked the girl. The girl had on shorts, running shoes and a tank top. She had an iPod and it looked like she had been jogging. That must have triggered some instinct in the dog and it had attacked. It had her by the forearm and I could see that she was bleeding. I keep a small baseball bat beside the front door to repel unwelcome visitors and I snatched it up. I hurried outside and gave the dog a whack in the ribs. The damned thing let go of the girl’s arm and bit me on the calf. It hurt like hell and I gave it another whack. This time I hit in in the head as hard as I could and it collapsed. The owner from across the street was hurrying over. “What the hell did you do to my dog?” he shouted. “The question you should be asking is what the hell your ...

... dog did to me and this girl,” I told him. “You’re going to be lucky if you don’t get sued. Get this thing off my sidewalk and yourself too.” I turned my back to him and helped the girl inside. “We need to get you cleaned up, honey,” I told her. “Both of us need to see a doctor. Dog bites are nasty. We’ll get an infection if we don’t. Dogs have bad things on their teeth.” I got first aid stuff and cleaned up her arm and my leg. I took a couple of pictures in case we needed them and wrapped up our wounds. We went out and got in my car. She was still crying. I suspect her arm hurt as bad as my calf did. I petted her a little and she calmed down. “I’m so sorry,” I told her. “We’ll get fixed up at the emergency room. I don’t even know your name, honey.” “I’m Courtney Leavett,” she said. “Thanks for saving me from that dog. I thought it was going to tear my arm off. It jumped right at my face and I just put my arm up by instinct. I run by there every day and I’ve never seen it before.” “I’m Osmund Clancy,” I told her. “You can call me Oz.” “I know who you are,” she said. “I’ve seen you keeping time at track meets. I pole vault. Plus, you’re kind of a legend on the girls track team. I’ve seen your name all over the women’s track record board. Plus, you’re the only black woman that lives in our town. That makes you kind of special.” “You mean like riding the short bus?” That made her laugh and the tears were over. She was a cute little thing, not much over five feet. My five nine ...