For two days, I lived a daily life of self-recrimination and loathing. For once, I was thankful that Prakash ignored me so I wouldn’t have to pretend everything was okay. When you don’t interact except for the barest of communication exchanges, the face you put on is of little significance.
A dog. I let a dog lick my body. I was worse than a whore, a tramp, a kasabi. How could I have done that? What was wrong with me?
For two days, I didn’t think about anything but my shame. For two days, I remained fully dressed. For two days, it didn’t even occur to me that I had so recently been craving sexual release. For two days I denied my need, my crazed desire, my insatiable craving for the sexual release missing from my life for all those years. For two days ….
Then, it started slowly, almost imperceptibly in my mind. The memory crept into my consciousness that I hadn’t LET the dog lick me. The dog licked me, but it hadn’t been my decision or willingness that it happened. The dog appeared … from nowhere, really. It licked me while I was orgasming. The sensations were on top of my orgasm. My mind was confused, befuddled, foggy in the orgasmic state of release. It really wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t to blame. I didn’t do anything …
Then, after yet another day, I recognized my continued need, craving for sexual release. That hadn’t changed, it still existed. That wasn’t my fault or my doing, either. That was Prakash’s fault for ignoring me, for thinking and caring for his business concerns more than his wife’s concerns. The craving was still real, still demanding, and they needed to be satisfied. That hadn’t changed. I needed a release. I needed stimulation for release.
When, on another day, the needs and cravings were as strong as ever, I again succumbed. After seeing Prakash off to work, I returned to the bedroom and undressed completely. I stood in front of the mirror for only a minute, nodded to my reflection, and walked deliberately to the living room window where I stood for five minutes. I set the timer because I was shaking terribly and knew I would end it too soon. When the timer on my phone buzzed, I ran into the bedroom, retrieved my dildo and turned it on to a moderate vibration. I stroked the head over my clit and instantly shuddered in response. It seemed like so long since I had stimulated myself. I needed release so desperately. I jammed the dildo into my cunt, which was wet and winking for something to be put into it.
It was quick. It was very quick. After crushing the dildo into my hole, I turned the nob up to the maximum. I used both hands, one to thrust the hard rubber vibrating phallus in and out while the other alternated between my engorged clit and each of my pinchable nipples. My orgasm broke over me with a thunderous cry erupting deep inside me. My hands only paused, though, as my body shook. I never even took the buzzing dildo from my cunt, only waiting for some strength and awareness to return to me. Then, my hands resumed. This time I left the dildo to vibrate as my fingers tortured my throbbing clit and I twisted and pinched my nipples. I cried out in pain and erotic thrill as my body rose to an even greater orgasm. I scream my release as my legs and arms shivered.
When I partially recovered, I removed the still vibrating toy from my cunt and I listened carefully to any sounds in the apartments above or below. I wasn’t sure if anyone might be able to hear the scream or not, but a story was easy to concoct. A simple fall while rearranging the shelves in the bedroom closet.
As I stood in the bedroom, I saw my reflection in the mirror. I walked directly in front of it and gazed at my reflection, again. Critically, this time, like a week ago. I separated my thighs and looked. Not only could I see the lips of my cunt between my legs, but they and the insides of my thighs were wet with my cum and juices. I have heard of women who squirt, but I don’t think I am not one of them. But, I do leak my juices generously and that is visible now. My nipples are more pronounced than before, the stimulation having extended them even more. I use my fingers and squeeze them, pinch them, and twist them. It hurts, but I watch my facial reaction as I do it, then I check out the nipples. They throb from the abuse and they stand out even further.
I look at my body, my body’s reaction, and my mind is again on track for the exploration I had set for myself those days before. I look at my body closely as if to see the truth in the skin, tits, nipples, and cunt. I look up into my own eyes and that is where I see it, the truth, the validation, and the determination. I want it. I need it. I crave it. I want more of what I started. And, in that moment of inspection, of introspection, I know I am going to go back to the Park. The dog’s tongue felt heavenly. It felt wonderful. I am going back to the Park and I will masturbate outside, again. But … if that dog returns …
Despite my determination, I am still working up the nerve to venture back to the Park. I think I have erased the shame of the dog licking me. That recrimination was reflective of my family, Prakash, and what they would have heaped onto me should such an experience be witnessed and reported. I feel the excitement of the risk, again. The thrill of exposure and the danger it represents renews me and goads me. My sessions of masturbation in the apartment become more frequent and intense. I have used a lot of images and fantasies but none have produced such intense excitement, stimulation, and raw release as now. Now, all my mind can see while the dildo or my fingers work at my cunt is the dog licking at my wet and gaping cunt. These images, though, don’t stop so quickly as it occurred in reality before. These images are of the dog lapping at my drooling cunt as I lay spread before him, my fingers abusing my nipples until he and I bring me to a glorious orgasm that is replicated on my bed with the dildo. Any longer, those images, those thoughts, have become the craving. It seems completely reckless, not careful, at all. But, I know it is now inevitable.
When I return to the Park, I am telling myself I don’t believe the dog, any dog, could even be there in that spot. I kept telling myself it would have to be a coincidence of epic proportions for that dog to be in the same place and same time as me. I am trying to keep myself from a huge disappointment, but inwardly I am still hoping to experience that event, again. I rationalize that it might take several visits.
And, I am correct. I return to the Park and my location. I scan around the area and I am virtually alone. I still hear sounds of people and k**s in the distance, but I am alone in my hidden spot. I push my jeans and panties down to my ankles to allow even better exposure of my legs and I settle down in the wild grass. I start urgently with my fingers, but then take a deep breath to calm myself. There is no need for rushing through this. The lack of the dog is only one element of the experience. I can still be in nature. Where I lie, I look up to the sky. The distant sounds of people, the sounds of birds and the city much further in the distance is both calming and titillating. The sounds of nature are refreshing and calming; the sounds of city life and people are stimulating, reminding of what I am doing and where I am doing it.
I reach to the side for my small backpack and remove the dildo, turning it onto a low setting. I place the end of it directly on my clit, rotating it over and around the nub. A long shiver runs through my body. I hear rustling in the brush or trees somewhere. I can’t help myself. I awkwardly kneel, the dildo protruding from my cunt. I slowly raise my head to scan around. I see nothing, but I was sure I heard something and the something was big. I kneel as straight as I can, rising as far as I can without standing. I still don’t see anything. Then, it happens, again. A great crash through leaves. I almost cry out, but I can’t. My jeans are around my ankles, I can’t move, much less escape. When I hear it the next time, I am prepared and my ears trace the sound. It isn’t on the ground but up in the air, which means it must be in the trees around me. Then, a large hawk bursts out of a tree about 15 feet from me. It has something trapped in its claws.
I am shaking from the build-up of adrenaline and the sudden relief of not being found. I collapse to the ground in relief and, in the process, drive the dildo, still in my cunt, deeper into me. This time I do cry out in shock and stimulation. The vibrating head was jammed against my cervix and the entire toy is nearly jammed inside me but for the base. The sensation is beyond anything I have experienced with the device, the buzzing inside me directly on my inner opening to my womb. I shake, my arms limp as my ass is firmly on the ground holding the head deep inside me. I climax hard and fall to my back, my eyes clenched tightly shut, not a sound penetrating from the outside; the only sound is the pounding rush of my heartbeat in my ears.
It takes quite a while for my body to recover. Or, maybe I just allowed a long time to recover, enjoying the surrounding sounds of nature to slowly return and envelop me as I gazed back up at the blue sky and the sounds of the city again return to me. I am partially naked outdoors and I have just had a magnificent orgasm that took my breath away.
As I casually walk downhill to the path, I am distracted by the feelings still fresh in my mind, even my body. It isn’t until I hear a bark that I look up. There coming over another ridge behind the location I had been was a dog bounding playfully. I stopped to watch, curious if it is the same dog. I couldn’t tell from that distance for sure, but it was similar in breed and size. It seemed to be playing, chasing after something on the ground, picking it up and running back over the ridge. Playing? That would mean it was with someone. It hits me that the previous time I had the thought the dog looked like a pet, not a stray. It was well cared for and had a collar. I saw nobody that time and didn’t this time, either. But, there could have been someone just over the ridge, like the dog seemed to be responding to now.
Again, the next few days were consumed by the experience in the Park, but also with the sighting of the dog. Maybe the dog being near when I am there isn’t “a coincidence of epic proportions” after all.
It becomes consuming, again. I not only masturbate to the thought of the dog, but I stand in front of the mirror, my legs spread as I run my fingers over my cunt lips where the dog had licked. It is a poor substitute using my fingers, but I imagine them being the tongue of the dog. I rub harder, press on my clit, slipping one and two fingers inside. As my body moves closer to an orgasm, I look from my fingers on my cunt to my face and eyes. I watch as my eyes slowly lower to slits, then open wider and roll back so I see nothing as the orgasm takes hold of me.
I moved quickly to the living room window and brazenly stood almost against the glass as if I wanted the entire world to see how aroused my body looked. I was so turned on that my hands rose to take hold of my tits, fondling them and pinching my nipples. As my excitement began to rise, renewed, one hand slid down my stomach and between my legs. I was lazily stroking my cunt and clit when my eyes focused on the Sanjay Gandhi National Park in the distance. Somewhere in that Park, a dog might be roaming around. He may be brought to the Park by someone, but he has some freedom of movement. Whoever is with him doesn’t seem to stay so close that either of the times I have seen the dog have I seen a person. Of course, the next time might be different. It was another risk. But, trying to meet up with one of the stray dogs that run wild throughout the city and region would be a far bigger risk. They are wild and brazen and unpredictable, even dangerous. Not only would there be the same risk of being seen with it, but many are said to carry rabies and other diseases. It is rumored that some are even turning a bluish color from toxins they have come into contact with.
I returned to the Park even more committed. As I began my climb up the slope from the path, I saw a dog, maybe the same dog by the appearance, sitting at the ridgeline a little further past my hiding spot. As I climbed up to the same location I had used past times, it’s impossible to watch my footing and the dog. When I stopped to look, the dog was gone. When I reach my spot and looked all around to see if anyone was nearby or watching from a distance, I still didn’t see the dog.
I resign myself to having to be satisfied with masturbating, but this time I decided to add to my experience of flexibility and risk by removing my shoes, jeans, and panties completely. I was standing in my covered location, peeking through the branches and over them, looking down at the path below and the surrounding expanse around me. Seeing nothing that raised any concern, and no dog, I unsnapped my jeans and lowered the zipper. I pried off my shoes and, with a final look around, push both my jeans and panties over my hips and down my legs.
I had become entangled in my own clothes somehow. Something I do routinely had suddenly become complicated. My skinny jeans and panties were bound up around my ankles. I bent over to push harder to get them over my feet when I should have sat down and pulled the ends of the jean legs over my feet. Instead, I am doubled over, my ass sticking up with my hands at my ankles and feet working at the cloth bundled in an unyielding mess.
When I felt something wet slide over my ass, my mind attempted to switch from the problem of my clothes to the feeling behind me. The second swipe of wetness caught me between my thighs and covered the length of my cunt. My mind reacted in surprise, fear, and joy all at the same instant. I thought I was alone. I even looked specifically for the dog. Suddenly, as if he were a ghost that didn’t make any sound, he was licking my ass and cunt. I stumbled forward, falling and landing on the ground, rolling onto my back.
I looked down along my body to see the dog sitting at my tangled feet. Again, it seemed like the same dog with the same well cared for and well-trained demeanor. I could see a medallion hanging from the collar, but I couldn’t make out what it said. This was definitely a pet and it didn’t have the look of a pet who was lost. I struggled to my knees and looked around the area, again. If this was a pet, its owner might be nearby. Or, perhaps the owner brought the dog out here to run and chase rabbits and such and was trained well enough for it to return on its own. The rules explicitly required all dogs to be on a leash, but that was only a rule and people flaunted rules all the time.
I was leaning forward to peer through some branches when the dog did it, again. His wet snout bumped into my spread thighs and the feel, more than the bump, caused me to fall forward, again. This time I fell through some branches and the sound was unmistakable. That, of course, meant I had to scan around the area all over, again.
When I settled back down on my butt, I watched the dog as he watched me. My eyes drifted down his body and he was very definitely a ‘he’. Underneath his belly was a large sheath with a reddish tip poking out. The color was only the first thing that seemed different about it. My only experience with cocks was Prakash and that narrow experience and previous curiosity became evident here. I didn’t know the dog’s cock would be different, but it was.
His cock, though, wasn’t what I was interested in except for the satisfaction that the dog was a male. Somehow, it seemed important for the dog to be male if it licked my cunt. It would be later before that thought would seem significant to me. Why would my cunt being licked by a female dog or human be different?
I had my opportunity in front of me, sitting quietly, patiently. And, there I was, my jeans and panties down at my ankles, my shoes off to the side. And, I was outside where I wanted to be. I leaned forward, trying not to do anything that might frighten the dog, and pulled the jeans from my feet, then the panties. I piled them next to my shoes and patted my thigh as the only way I could think of to attract the dog. I added, “here, boy”, and to my continued surprise and delight, the dog moved forward. If I was going to let this dog get personal with me, I wanted to get to know him just a little, anyway. The medallion on his collar read, “Sheru”, a Golden Retriever. His fur was well groomed despite what he picked up chasing through the brush. The name Sheru means lion or tiger and given my circumstance, the name fit with the danger I was feeling.
I poked my head up and looked around, once more. It wasn’t that I heard anything causing alarm or concerned, it was just nervousness. I was about to do what I had dreamed about since the last scary encounter.
With my hands on the side of his head, “Sheru, I want to be your special friend and I want you to do something very special for me. I am sure, or at least I think I am sure, you haven’t ever done anything like this, but …”
I shook my head and looked into the eyes of the dog. “What in the world am I doing? I’m talking to you as if you are going to understand. I’m nervous, Sheru. The talking is for my own nerves.”
I leaned forward and his tongue came out quickly and licked my face from my chin, over my lips, and to my nose. I giggled. Maybe he understood more than I gave him credit for. I took a deep breath and lay back to the ground. He was between my legs and I spread them further. This was unusual for me, too. I had never had anyone, or thing, lick or kiss me there. He and I were both going to be discovering things here. I took another deep breath, wanting very much to do this, but at the same time not believing I was about to do this.
On my back with my legs wide open, I closed my eyes, and silently prayed I would not be attacked or mauled in the process of whatever happened next. I lifted my knees and spread them out the way I had been doing before when I masturbate with the dildo. I knew I am wet; I have been constantly. I raised my head and looked at the dog. His snout was sniffing and I knew he was picking up my scent. As his head lowered toward my crotch, I sucked in a lung-full of air. I held my breath in anticipation. My head still up, I watched with excitement and disbelief. His snout was right there. I felt the air he expelled from his nose over my cunt lips. It sent a chill through my body despite the warmth of the day. I put my head back and moaned at the sensation, but when his tongue came out and licked the entire length of my cunt, I groaned and moaned over and over as his tongue greedily lapped at my sex, which I was sure was leaking fluids and providing him with more incentive for licking.
I was quickly beside myself with the sensations and emotions crashing through me. I was outside; I was being licked by a dog; I was nearly naked outside; my naked and exposed sex was spread out; I could hear the airplane above, see the airplane; I could hear the birds nearby, the faint hum of traffic on the expressway near the Park; I was outside. My body was rising to an orgasm! Outside! By a dog! A dog was the first male of any kind to lick my cunt. And, it was wonderful.
I wanted more. I wanted it to never end. I pulled my knees up to my chest, pushing my knees to the sides, completely and vulgarly exposing my cunt to the hungry tongue of the dog. I never felt so wanton, so vulnerable, so exposed, so at risk … and I never wanted it to end.
But it was about to. My orgasm was rising to an unbelievable height. I felt like I might explode from my cunt outward. I clawed at my tee-shirt and bra, my fingers struggling to get underneath to mash my nipples, to pinch them, and to twist them. The pain was delicious and added to the rising sensations from the tongue, that wonderful tongue. Then, it happened. My legs started shaking and flexing like wings of a struggling grounded bird. When my orgasm crashed over me, I thrust my hips into the air as if that action might somehow create a more intense contact with the tongue.
I remembered hearing a cry but it was moments before it dawned on me that the cry came from me. When that dawning settled on me, I scrambled from the dog to find my jeans and shoes. I quickly got dressed, tying my shoes before fully pulling my jeans up. I stood and looked around nervously as I fastened the snap and zipper. I smoothed my hair and brushed the grass, leaves, and dirt from my clothes as best I could. I looked around again, then exited my spot, worried that someone might have heard the cry and come to investigate.
Not seeing anyone coming, I took several deep breaths to calm myself as I descended to the path. Then, a whistle, a loud and demanding whistle, carried through the air and the dog, Sheru, went bounding higher up the hill. Oh, no … the dog did come with someone!
* * CHAPTER THREE will follow * * Thanks for reading.