The Dog Who Brought Dinner - Chapter 3 - Sex Stories

The Dog Who Brought Dinner - Chapter 3

... squatted to relieve my bowels, the sperm-filled rectum spreading around my feet, and I spread them, sandal-clad, and my thighs even wider. Wiping with a tissue from my shorts` pocket, I felt much more comfortable, and stood to tiredly put on my clothes, tell the grey/black I was heading home, and walked towards my car. He didn`t leave my side. “Do you like women” I asked him, and he lolled his tongue out; “because you can have my wife if you want more sex today: I am worn out.” I opened the door and he jumped in; `so be it` I mused, looking at the digital clock: gosh, 15.10 already – coming here was no `5 minute romp in the hay`, so to speak! At home, I gave him a bowl of water, and then heated a big bowl of rice, mixed vegetables, and slices of ham I chopped up. He ate avidly, and I stripped and went into my shower, turning it on, but he was behind me, leaving his food in favour of a shower perhaps. I smiled, “ok, good idea anyway” and we shampooed and soaped both of us, cleaned teeth – I need to write `toothbrushes` on my shopping list – and we dried off. His coat was silky smooth and shining; “wow, you look positively handsome” I told him, and dripping water from my un-brushed hair, I got my phone and took his photo, 3 of them, as he exited the bathroom and went back to his food. I took a beer, while he ate, and lit a cigarette – I hardly drank or smoked when with the dogs…guess that was healthy at least! Sending his photos to my wife, I messaged `he wanted to come home ...

... when I asked if he liked women…` She sent back a smile. I wasn`t considering if this was helping our marriage, but blackmail from her had to be off the table now, so that was a positive for me. Finished my refreshment, the dog finished his, drank more water, and came over to me, water drooling from his mouth. “Now it is rest time – no wild ideas, ok; I am worn out” and he just lay down with me, and I was asleep instantly. Part 5 When I woke, it was 17.30; the dog wasn`t beside me, but I heard him lapping at the water bowl in the kitchen. I washed my face, cleaned my teeth and made a café – my timing all out of whack when I spent the day with the dogs, but I need an injection of caffeine. Then my wife came in the doorway, and the dog and I looked up and at her at the same time. I did nothing; the dog ran to her, looking back at me, as if to ask “is this the woman?” Nodding, not sure if he would understand, he nuzzled at my wife`s leg and this into her crotch; she squeaked “I`ve just got home, Grey, let me put my bag down please” and she disentangled herself and walked past me to the dining area table we never used for eating, though I had bent her over it for hard sex. She pulled off her work shirt and walked to throw it in the laundry basket – normally she would just drop it on the floor upstairs for me, the house slave, to pick up for washing. Perhaps she was changing her attitude? It was twilight, but I hadn`t turned lights on yet, so she looked around the corner at the ...