Again, the after-experience of what happened in the Park consumes my existence in several ways. Not the least is the overwhelming sensory effect that exceeded anything my imagination could anticipate. But, close behind those emotions was the chilling awareness that the dog was not there alone, that his owner had been nearby.
In short, the experience was EVERYTHING I could have hoped for at the time! I achieved a mind-shattering, body-shaking orgasm that wasn’t self-induced. In fact, it was the best, most intense, stunning, and consuming orgasm of my life. And, something I had never experienced, I was the sole attention of a male while having any form of sex. The dog … a dog! … was the first male to fully focus his efforts on giving me sexual pleasure. Whether, in reality, the dog was really focused on an effort of giving me an orgasm or merely enjoying the scent and leakage coming from my cunt, the result was the same. The dog gave to me without the condition that I was expected to give to him in any way or form. My whole experience previously had been the dutiful effort of marriage for the production of a family. The idea of sex merely for its own pleasure, sharing, joy, and devotion had been unknown. A dog showed me what the sex act could be.
But, there was also the chilling effect produced by hearing the whistle and seeing Sheru’s immediate response. There could be little question that the whistle was intended for Sheru. The issue, though, was that the person behind the whistle appeared to allow the dog significant freedom to wander on his own. The risk of others in the Park finding me during any such activity was suddenly minimized by the question of the person who was calling the dog.
I was a woman on fire, though. That vision and memory consumed not only every time I masturbated but became increasingly difficult to consider any other course of action in my new twistedly erotic consideration. I became slightly abusive of my own body. Standing before the mirror, it was as if my reflection was taunting me to action as I twisted, pinched, and pulled my nipples. I did the same to my clit, those nubs throbbing from the aggressive attention I gave them while my eyes focused on the action, my eyes seeking the eyes of the woman in the mirror as if I was beseeching her to stop. But, it continued and grew in very small steps. I attached clothespins to my nipples as I shoved the dildo into my cunt. Who knew pain could be so enticing, erotic.
There was nothing to do, I realized, but to experience more and I found the increased risk of exposure, being found, was increasing the intense desire to do something more.
Something more was the key. I could easily go back to the Park and masturbate and I did. The dog was around, I saw it, but it seemed held back somehow. It even seemed to see me, but it never came. I saw it look at me, directly at me, then backward, back and forth before running away from me. It sent chills down me that day when I questioned if the dog’s owner was keeping it from coming to me. Did the owner know I was there or was it merely a coincidence of timing? And, if it was timing, then the dog might come to me and the owner come shortly after. The thought sent a chill through me. It also excited me. It also worried me. I was becoming so needy of release and experience. It was seeming like a spiral of need and craving, the end of which I didn’t understand.
This took hold in my mind increasingly. What could I do to experience new elements of risk without involving the dog or brazenly being naked or nearly so in Park? I had previously gone out for walks in the neighborhood around the apartment without underwear on. That was thrilling at the time, but in consideration of what I had done in the Park, it was very safe. I considered how I could project that type of experience to another level. I came up with wearing one of my sarees with only a top. I had several that were semi-sheer and others that were solid. As I considered the idea, I wondered if a semi-sheer was too much of a risk. Of course, putting active thought into the idea had the predictable effect of pushing me in that direction.
I went outside wearing a saree and focused on where I might walk, sit, pass shops, etc. I watched myself in windows of shops and any mirror I might find inside shops. Wearing a saree in India is common and natural. There is no more thought to it than wearing a dress in Western countries. A Saree, though, is not anything like a dress.
The Saree is essentially wrapping a length of fabric around your body. Normally, the wrap is over a form-fitting top, which is over a bra. Below, a petticoat over panties is worn. In a normal application, wearing both top and petticoat, you hold the saree inner end with the left hand, making sure the bottom is at floor level, tucking the top border into the petticoat. The saree is passed around the front while maintaining the same height to the floor. Keeping the top edge level, tucking a little into the petticoat to keep the saree firmly in place. Pleats are formed by folding from the right and tucking the edge. Tucking the pleats into the petticoat, the pleats should fall straight. Then, bringing around the saree, holding it to the right and passing it to the left, arranging the border evenly. Then d**** it over your left shoulder allowing the end piece to fall casually.
It is often, if not generally, worn with a bare mid-drift. I studied it in the mirror. The way it is worn and hangs, it must be worn with a top because of how it hangs and d****s. Below, however, from the waist down, the body is covered, with or without a petticoat. I was curious, though, about wind. I retrieved a floor fan and arranged it near the mirror. I took the saree off and removed the petticoat. How do I do the tucks without a petticoat? Perhaps by just using a thin belt? I put a thin belt at my hips, then put the saree back on. It takes several minutes and I was careful to make the tucks secure each time. Having tucks give way without a petticoat would be most embarrassing. Once completed, I turned the fan on at a low speed to test a normal wind speed in the streets due to wind and trucks and cars. As I turned, it was possible for the folds to rise up when the air caught it just right. I found, though, that for my ass to fully show, I needed to take the fold by hand and pull it across the back of my legs. It was an elaborate effort, but it was possible to do and it involved several risks depending on the tucks, the security of the belt, the wind, and the material.
I knew where this was going, too. The risks were all manageable and that was becoming unacceptable. I needed the element of risk. I needed the element of not having everything within my control. I elected to use a semi-transparent saree material. Normally, it is worn over an elaborate top or fashion bra along with a patterned petticoat since some of it might be visible. The sheer sarees are very much worn with fashion tops and bottoms.
I tried on a semi-sheer saree but selected one that was heavily patterned and less sheer as a result. The eye would be caught by the overlapping patterns and material layers.
I knew where I wanted to walk. It was very populated with old and young and quite busy. It would be perfect. I live in the Sunder Nagar district which is bordered by New Link Road to the west and Swami Vivekanand Road to the east and Goregaon – Mulund Link Road to the south. Between these is a district known for educational institutes including schools and colleges.
Sunder Nagar is mostly Hindu (75%) and the rest is mainly Muslim. There are bakeries and other shops in the area. I intend to focus my walk along Sunder Nagar Road past many shops, a school, and several colleges with my destination being the Sunder Nagar Garden. This is a large green space with activities for all ages. A playground for young c***dren and families and football, cricket, and badminton grounds for teenagers and young men (mostly). There is a walking track of 600 meters.
When I exited the building, I was immediately hit with the feeling of exposure. Whether or not I was mattered little. The people who looked my way as I merged onto the walk I was convinced were seeing through my saree below my waist. The further I walked, the more comfortable I started becoming as I found the people coming toward me were not staring transfixed at my groin. But, the people behind me became my concern. I noticed that even I tended to notice the backs of people because your options are restricted when surrounded by others.
I moved off the side and stopped. I quickly turned to look into people’s faces but did not find evidence of anyone smirking or staring at me.
I walked the entire Sunder Nagar Garden grounds and spent most of my time away from the family area, just in case. There was a group of young men playing football and others standing along the sides watching. I surveyed the area and chose a place away from the activity but near enough to be watching. I looked around to determine where people were, then reached behind and pulled the saree fold across the back of my legs to expose my ass and legs. I felt the air move over my bare skin and it felt so wicked. It was what I felt at Sanjay Gandhi Park, but this was a populated, busy area. I quickly dropped the folds back in place, fussing with it to be sure it had fallen completely.
I was literally dripping when I returned to the apartment. I knew, someday, I would take the chance to do much more. How I would love to be naked under a semi-sheer saree. But, I could never do such a thing. I had enjoyed it so much and continued for so long that I was running out of time for having dinner ready when Prakash returned from work. He was meticulous in his timing, always where he intended to be when he intended to be there. He insisted his life run a set and predetermined course and schedule. To him it was everything. I was realizing how stifling it was for me. I was feeling more and more stifled by this life and existence. I had this personal expectation to serve, but there was less and less to give. My life was becoming an endless repetition of mundane duties. The only things he wished from me was cook, clean, and provide a restive environment for him when he returned from his work. My newfound erotic cravings were making this existence seem less and less tolerable. I also knew, though, there was nothing to be done about it. It was my life. It was the life I was given to have, to serve my husband. If I somehow managed to find other pleasures, no matter how thrilling and engaging they might be, I had little real alternative in life than the situation I had.
I went back to searching the internet. I was intrigued by what I saw of the dog. A reddish cock with a pointy tip? I thought a cock was a cock. This wasn’t.
I was shocked by what I found on the internet. I searched for information on dog cocks and found plenty of that. I found scientific information about the averages of cocks based on breed and size and similar information about human males that included comparisons based on ethnicity. There were dog cocks every bit as big as the average size of men. But, as I found just by looking at the tip of Sheru in the Park, the shape and function of dog cock were very different. Not the least of the difference was a bulbous formation at the base of the cock that was similar to a ball. I was intrigued that it was an evolutionary effort to improve insemination of the female dog by locking the two together when the knot had swelled inside the female.
I sat back and looked at the pictures of the dog cock, my focus continually diverted to the knot. I wondered if that knot wasn’t painful. My curiosity led to a modification of the search. I was curious if there was anything showing dogs fucking and possibly with a human woman. I don’t know how I could be surprised by anything I found on the internet, anymore. There were pages of search results. I found pictures of women penetrated by dogs, their cunts distended by the knot inside. I went to retrieve my dildo, turning it to a higher setting, and inserting it into my own cunt before continuing my review on the computer.
My next venture of ‘research’ turned to videos. The fucking of dogs was crazy and frantic. Many seemed to require some help at some point as the dog seemed to have a difficult time penetrating the woman and staying on her. I went back to search for that question. I found that dogs initiated penetration with little or no exposure of their cocks from the sheath. Most of their erection normally occurred during penetration and early fucking. Then, the knot eventually formed with increased blood flow and they were locked together before his climax.
The most intriguing photos and videos to me were the ones capturing the knot inside the woman’s cunt, then the gaping hole in her after the dog finally pulled out. The videos showing the volume of cum streaming out was surprising. I happened on a looping video of the knot coming out and cum streaming out with it. I let it loop repeatedly as I assisted the dildo with my fingers, climaxing myself with a shattering orgasm in front of the laptop.
I quickly looked at the clock on the lower right of the screen, then relaxed as I found plenty of time. I walked to the large window and stood before it, my fingers casually exploring my wet and very pliable cunt lips and opening after the nice orgasm. I squeezed my nipples with the other hand as my eyes rose to the Sanjay Gandhi National Park in the distance. I had one extended experience with a dog. Only one. I hadn’t been able to get it out of my head since. I wanted that experience, again. The same experience, even with the recognition of the danger that there was an owner in the area somewhere. Now, though, the craving had morphed into something much more, more involved, more obscene, more bestial, and more dangerous. Being seen masturbating would be bad. Being seen licked by a dog would be worse. But, being seen fucked by a dog? Yet, each step in my imagining sent my heart racing, my breath was taken away, and my cunt dripping.
Could I allow myself to be fucked by the dog? His cock tip was showing. He must have had some recognition of the situation and potential, even if he hadn’t been with a woman, the scent was there and he would key on that. Perhaps, if I avoided the knot, it could be managed. If I could avoid being tied to the dog, it could be like being licked. Then, the risk wouldn’t be any greater.
As I stood before the large window, my fingers idly touching my nipples and cunt lips, I thought about the pictures and videos I had seen on the computer screen. The knots seemed so large compared to the cocks, how did they penetrate? But, if they can manage it to a dog bitch, it can certainly happen to a woman. That was obvious based on the videos and pictures. Could I do this new thing? It’s one thing to masturbate and it’s another to let a dog lick you. What about letting a dog mount you, fuck you? Could I do that? Could I do that out there, in the open, almost?
Again, I really didn’t question where my resolve would lead me. It was almost like I was on some kind of path that I didn’t know where it would lead, but I knew I couldn’t get off, either, even if I wanted to get off. And, I wasn’t sure I would want to. I had been ignored for so long, frustrated for so long. What was happening to me now was beyond my imaginings and fantasies. At times, it was almost like I didn’t care what might happen to me, but it did matter and I did care. I had to care. I would have nothing if …
I ambled along the path and pretended interest in the sights to allow the other people who had been surrounding me to move ahead and around the bend in the path. This seemed to be an unusually busy day in the Park. I hadn’t noticed anything special about the day, but something must be bringing the crowd out. Maybe, it might just have been the beautiful day. A storm had gone through the night before leaving clear skies and air that seemed somehow fresh, which isn’t normal for a city with this many people, traffic, and industry.
When I decided it was safe to move off the path and not draw attention, I started up the slope, scanning the hillside in front of me and above as I picked my footing. I was thinking this might not be a day when the dog was here when I suddenly heard a playful bark ahead and to my left. It was a single sound that seemed more like a greeting than a series of barks indicating a playful exercise. I stopped, looked up, and watched as the dog came bounding along the hillside. Interesting to me that it wasn’t coming directly toward me or searching the ground as it might if searching for a ball or stick thrown, but it seemed to head in the general direction of the location of our previous meetings.
I wasn’t sure if that was rational, but I hurried my pace while I scanned around me with particular attention to the area the dog had come from, half expecting to find a human following at a distance in search of his pet.
I stood just outside the cluster of brush and small trees that created my protected space. I continued to scan above and below for anyone else walking off the path. As I was, the dog ambled to me, stopping 20 feet in front of me. When I glanced down, I found him patiently sitting as if awaiting my direction. It was the same dog. I didn’t even need to look closely at his medallion gently swaying beneath his collar, the reflection of sunlight glinting off the shiny metal. I found myself relieved it was the same dog and nervous at the same time. The relief came from a feeling of expectant familiarity. The nervousness came from a sense of pushing my luck with repeated encounters with the same a****l that had to be in the Park with an owner who had to be somewhere in the general area. Even if this owner was trusting and tolerant enough to allow the dog considerable free-rein to wander and chase, which time would he happen upon to follow close by?
I pushed that thought aside, however. These encounters with the dog had become something I could no longer logically explain or rationalize. I felt as though my life had changed into a mundane, routine, and rote existence that had no other meaning then filling the time space between the experiences I devised for myself, experiences that had an increased risk but also reward. My dull and ordinary life seemed to be now careening down a mountain road of sharp curves and switchbacks while my brakes were slowly leaking fluid and the ability to control my descent. As frightening as the danger was, the feeling of exhilaration and being alive was greater.
When I moved into the midst of the growth, Sheru followed behind me. I knelt in front of him and he licked my face playfully. I giggled at the feeling of him covering my face. The feeling coming over me wasn’t that of a playful pet giving licks but of a male kissing me. It was in my head and I knew that, but it had been so long since I had received eager attention my mind made the jump of acceptance immediately.
Without any more concern about my surrounds or the act I was about to attempt to perform, I reached under the dog and stroked his belly. When I touched his sheath, which was my goal, I think I flinched as much as the dog did. He stood briefly but sat back in the same spot he had been, apparently willing to accept these advances from me. Then, I thought maybe I could make my intentions a little more obvious even to a dog. I sat back, removed my shoes and socks, then stood and pushed my jeans and panties off my hips and down my legs. He sniffed at me when I stood in front of him. When I spread my legs, his snout moved between my thighs sniffing before his tongue shot out and licked me, again. I shivered from the touch. The touch I had one time considered so outrageous and decadent was now only a prelim for much more.
I knelt next to him, my hand returning to his belly. When my fingers again found his sheath, his head moved to me, his tongue lapping at my face. I giggled. Not only did I happen upon a willing male, but one that was appreciative. While he licked my face, I stroked his sheath and felt his cock coming out. This was new for me. Prakash didn’t give the opportunity or show desire for playfulness during the limited sex we had. As my fingers stroked his bare, exposed cock, the dog flinched and whined. I remembered something I read online. Any cock protected in a sheath is quite sensitive when exposed. I brought my hand up to my face and licked it liberally, then let the dog lick it, and I returned to touching his exposed cock. I could feel a fluid coming from the tip and smeared it over my fingers. I moved the dog to the ground so I could see what I was doing to him and what effect I was having. I was surprised to see how much cock was now exposed. I could also see more fluid forming at the tip of his cock. The more I smeared over my fingers and transferred to his cock, the more fluid formed. It was truly an interesting organ for my inexperienced mind to behold. A narrow tip that grew thicker and narrowing slightly toward the sheath.
With him on the ground, I moved to his snout, my knees positioned on either side of it. He was immediately aware and reached forward to lap at my drooling cunt. Cunt. Using that words before was so base and decadent. Now, a dog lapping at it after I had been fingering his cock, cunt seemed to be the perfect word for it, maybe for me, especially if I continued along the direction I was headed.
I looked down at him, then listened intently around me. I rose as high as I could while remaining on my knees. I neither saw nor heard anyone around me. It was now or back out. This was too much. I couldn’t back out now! I had to see what it was like.
I moved to my hands and knees like I had seen on the internet. The dog came up behind me, licked at my cunt and ass several times, then he seemed to take over. He jumped onto my back, his front legs going around my waist. The feeling of fur on my lower back was sensuous. The first stab of his cock at my butt woke me up and reminded me of how wrong and right this was. A dog was on my back and he was probing with his cock to find my cunt opening. He probed and probed. His cock was striking my butt cheeks and around my cunt. The pointy, bony cock hurt after a few stabs. He released me and I felt as frustrated as he sounded as he walked around me before he remounted me. This time I tried something different. He was extended out of his sheath. I watched with fascination as his extended cock bobbed beneath him as he walked around me. All he needed was to penetrate me, then I was sure we would be good.
I reached back, first around my hip but that was too awkward. I shifted my hand between my thighs, felt his cock stabbing at me, felt it glance off my palm and hit me near my cunt. I shifted my hand up slightly and the next stabbing slid over my palm and into my opening. I pressed back against him and he used his front legs to pull me back and himself forward, driving his cock deep into me. I reached back to hold his hind leg, just for a moment, in case.
It was delirious! A cock! I had a cock inside me, again! It felt wonderful and amazing and perfect and decadent. I felt everything he did to me. He relaxed his front legs slightly, moved forward and took me firmly with his legs, again. His fucking was like nothing I had experience. True, my experience was marginal, but nothing I imagined prepared me for the onslaught of fucking I received. I gasped and moaned in a continuous chorus of muted sounds, barely maintaining some awareness of my surroundings and circumstance.
I felt something banging against my cunt on the outside, pressing against my lips and opening, pressing and stretching my opening. For moments, I was too consumed by the experience to connect what was happening. When it did, I tried pulling away from the a****l, fearing the knot entering me, but his legs around my waist held me in place. I was just a bitch to him at this point. He was mating and his instinct was to knot me. The more I squirmed and moved, the more movement there was of his cock inside me. He was stabbing me, rubbing along my cunt walls, penetrating me deeper than I had been fucked before by my husband. My body reacted the only way it could with all the stimulation, a****listic nature of the act, and my mind’s overdrive of conflicting feelings. I orgasmed!
One moment my entire body burst into bliss, excitement, and ecstasy. The next moment that ball of flesh on the base of Sheru’s cock was inside my cunt. My orgasm must have loosened my opening, eliminated just enough resistance. His cock drove suddenly deeper inside me. The knot felt massive inside me, filling me more completely. His cock was still driving at me, but the knot restricted his movement. I forgot about the ramification of the knot and only focused on what was happening inside me. The cock and knot were both growing, swelling. He pulled back against my opening to thrust further into me, but the knot restricted him. Instead, something unexpected and unknown happened. The knot pressed against me inside, somewhere inside me and behind my clit. Whatever it was, the pressure was electric and intense, jolts of fiery erotic stimulation coursing from my cunt into my body. I felt it on my clit, in my nipples, and sent chills and goosebumps up my neck and into my scalp.
I was crashing into another orgasm when I felt his cock inside jerk and pulse violently. The next sensation was my cunt being washed in warm spurts of dog cum. I cried out. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to or intend to, but my mouth joined the rest of my body in joyous release.
As my body descended from the orgasmic peak previously unconquered, my mind rose up to the turmoil of my situation. Not only did I joyously cry out my euphoria, I was now tied to the dog. My mind replayed the videos I had seen. The women were stuck to the dog for moments, maybe many. How was I to know? The videos were snippets of action only. Suddenly, my ears heard sounds everywhere around me. The smallest sound of a leaf in the wind against the twig was some person crashing through the brush concealing me.
The dog whimpered as he tugged to free himself. He had done something I thought should be impossible. He raised his leg over me and was now standing facing the opposite direction. We were ass-to-ass. I had seen it in videos, but somehow it didn’t seem so significant then. I didn’t understand. I hadn’t seen how the dog got into that position, only that he was. He pulled and I could feel my cunt pull away from my body. I gasped and shuddered. That same sensation was happening, again. The knot was pressing on that spot. I raised my hips up and the knot jammed against that spot inside me with extra effect. I realized I could cum all over again. I shivered at the thought. Twice, already, I have climaxed and I was thinking of doing so, again? Yes, I was! It felt so delicious, so obscene, so … decadent. A dog had just fucked me!
After another small orgasm, the knot seemed to stretch my lips and opening to escape. I fell to the ground and the dog lay near me and started licking his cock. I slipped my arm under my face and watched. I watched his tongue, the same tongue that had pleasured me, lick his own cock clean.
My hands trembled and shook as I got dressed in the confines of my hiding spot. Sheru had left minutes before. He seemed to crash through the brush and ran for the rise I saw him come over earlier. He seemed so noisy in leaving I delayed my leaving for many more minutes to avoid being seen also coming out of the same spot. In fact, I exited the opposite way. My legs were weak and shaky, uncertain underneath me as I made my way back to the path.
Back at home, I relive that experience over and over. If Prakash has been non-responsive to me, I was now to him. I thought only about that expereince. I relived it, seeing it in detail as if I were watching it happen to someone else. At night, I dream about it and feared that my sounds might alert Prakash to something unusual.
Standing in front of the mirror, again, naked and excited. When I stripped away the terror of the risk I took, what remained was the memory, the feeling of being fucked … finally, fucked. The feelings come back with fierce recognition and chilling excitement. New thoughts fight for consideration. Pushing aside the ever-present terror and fear for brief moments, the desire to relive those feelings come rushing in. In those moments, surrounded by the fear, was the recognition of fulfillment. Fulfillment of needs that have been missing, vacant for so long. Could I risk it, again? Could I not?
The mirror is my window into my soul and desires. I have come to see the image of myself as the real me, the me that demands to be released. And, that image is taunting me, challenging me, daring me. Her nipples are extended, even for her. I spread my legs for her to show me the cunt that enjoyed the dog. She smiles at me as her legs spread. I see her cunt lips as plain as her nipples standing out proud and pleading to be touched. I see her move a hand to a nipple, pinching it and smiling at me as she does it.
I looked at her in the mirror. “Slut”. “Bitch”. “Dog-bitch!” I looked at her face. Rather than be humiliated and ashamed, though, she smiled back at me. I try again, “Look at your cunt lips showing there, begging to be seen and used. You liked the dog parting those lips, didn’t you? You liked being a bitch for that dog.” She only smiled back at me. Her eyes shined with excitement at the memory.
I look into her eyes. I smiled at her and nodded my head in understanding. I understand her. I confessed to myself and her, “What I wouldn’t do for a man who could regularly give me this release and pleasure!”
* * CHAPTER FOUR will follow * * Thanks for reading.