I won't pretend any false modesty because I know what I look like, but
I'd learned to deal with boys and even full grown men. My old boyfriend,
the one in the army, had tried hard and often to get into my panties,
but I'd managed to fend him off. A little kissing was nice and
occasionally his hands would wander to find my breasts, but that was as
far as we'd gone for the two years we'd dated. My sex drive had never
been much to brag about, unlike some of the girls I'd known in school.
Doing more than kissing just didn't interest me a whole lot, although
I'd been sorely tempted to give my boyfriend a little more than that as
he'd gotten closer to shipping off for boot camp.
I'd ended up giving him a hand job in the backseat of his daddy's car. That had been the first and only time I'd seen an erection in my life, and certainly the only time I'd ever touched one! I hadn't done a very good job of jerking him off probably, but he hadn't complained and I did kiss him nice and let him play with my tits through my sweater. When he started cumming it had surprised me, just because I'd had no idea what to expect really. It had seemed kind of disgusting and I'd wiped that stuff off my fingers in a hurry.
That was the full extent of my sexual expertise as I walked home from work late one Friday evening.
"Oh!" I stopped walking as a shadowy figure crossed the sidewalk in front of me.
It was a dog, I realized, and a large one too, although I couldn't say for certain what breed it might have been. I'd never owned a dog, but of course I knew people who did and I wasn't afraid of them or anything. At least, not the nice ones, you know. This dog seemed nice enough, since he was largely ignoring me. He'd crossed the path in front of me and found an old maple tree, sniffing around it while I watched and then relieving himself the way dogs do.
I stood there for a moment and then started walking again. I'd seen several dogs around the neighborhood in the few weeks I'd been living there, but I didn't remember seeing this one before. Not that I should have, I mean. He was just a dog. So long as he wasn't rabid or anything, I felt pretty content to let him go his way while I walked the last couple blocks to my apartment above the Widow's garage.
"Nice doggy," I said, feeling suddenly nervous as he approached me. "Good boy. Uh ... Go home now. Go on."
When I'd started walking, he'd lifted his head at the clicking of my heels on the sidewalk. Even though I was just an assistant in the Sears art department, I still had to wear the uniform that all the sales girls wore in case a customer happened to see me. That wasn't so bad anyway, being a modest blue skirt and matching blazer with a white blouse. I thought it looked kind of nice and I wore a pair of sheer pantyhose and my underwear too, of course. And close-toed shoes, cheap ones from Pay-Less in black leather with two inch heels. I had my purse and being early autumn, the evenings were wonderfully cool, but hardly cold.
Anyway, the dog had noticed me and then he'd come walking over as I'd stopped once again. I seemed to remember hearing that you shouldn't run from a dog for some reason, or maybe that's bears, but either way I'd stopped moving. I remained very still and when he came close enough I extended my left hand slowly, trying not to show any fear. He was a big dog though, as I said, his shoulders reached my hips and his head nearly to my breasts as he stood there. His legs were thick and he looked healthy, very strong and muscular beneath his dark fur, and his eyes seemed to glow amber beneath the streetlights.
"Nice doggy," I repeated as he bent his nose to my fingers, sniffing at them and even giving my hand a cautious lick. I swallowed hard as I saw his teeth, long and sharp as his rough, wet tongue slipped between them.
After a few seconds of that, he stepped even closer and I felt a small jolt of adrenaline, a shot of genuine fear as the dog pressed his nose to my left leg just below the knee. He sniffed me there and lifted his head, dragging his nose up my stocking until he reached the hem of my skirt.
"Stop," I said, but not forcefully. I cleared my throat as his nose went under my skirt, actually lifting it slightly as the animal continued to explore my leg.
"No!" I said, taking a step backward and then another as he stood there. "Go home!"
He ignored that and I looked over my shoulder as the animal circled me slowly. He sniffed at the back of my knees and the under my skirt again, with his snout reaching for my butt, and I swatted at him nervously. I started walking away and the dog watched me for a moment, and then turned his head as if looking around. The night was very quiet though; except for me, there was little to occupy his attention. He started following, not quickly, but matching my pace and staying perhaps a dozen feet behind me all the way to my apartment.
Naturally, I felt pretty nervous by then. A strange dog had followed me home, a very large one, and I wasn't sure why. I'd never been the sort of girl who collected pets or anything. I'd had a cat, but she hadn't been much of a pet. Cats rarely are, in my opinion. I'd had a goldfish too, but there isn't a lot you can do with a fish, except forget to feed it once too often and then give it a tearful burial down the toilet. So this was a new experience, being followed by a dog. I felt nervous and even a little frightened perhaps, but at the same time, I think most people would understand when I say that seeing a stray pet tugs at the heart strings.
I mean, there's a natural affinity between humans and certain animals, like dogs, for example. I suspected that he was probably lonely, and hungry too, and maybe lost. A large dog like that must belong to someone, even without a collar to prove it. He certainly looked healthy enough and didn't stink of garbage or anything like that. The dog was reasonably clean and well groomed. So I figured someone must be missing him and he hadn't barked at me, or even growled. I wouldn't say he acted overly friendly, definitely not playful or whatever, but he wasn't being mean either.
So, I did what most people would do under the circumstances. I climbed the stairs to my apartment, unlocked my door, and looked down to see the dog sitting patiently on the paved driveway staring up at me. He even wagged his tail when he saw my face, I swear. Just a little wag, nothing too enthusiastic, but I had to smile at that. He seemed to smile back at me, but of course he didn't. That would only be my own loneliness asserting itself, because it had turned out to be a bit harder living alone in a strange, new town than I'd expected.
"Okay." I patted my thigh. "You want something to eat?"
That invitation seemed to be all the dog was waiting for and he climbed the stairs slowly, bobbing his head up and down and wagging his tail from side to side. He seemed to be pretty well-trained, I thought, or maybe well-mannered is a better way to say it. Do dogs have manners? I guess they do, judging from the way this one was acting. He didn't run or bark, and I was glad of that because I wasn't entirely sure if I could have a dog in my apartment or not. I'd have to check my lease, but I wasn't keeping him anyway. This would be a one night deal and then I'd find his owner and get him back to where he belonged.
That was my plan anyway.
"You're going to be a good dog, right?" I asked him, closing the door after he'd walked into the apartment.
He wagged his tail and looked around, sniffing the air.
I had a small place, no doubt about it. Just inside the front, and only, door was the living room, which was also my dining room and bedroom all in one. The apartment had come furnished with old, but comfortable furniture. I slept on a hide-away sofa, except it had become kind of annoying to pull the bed out and put it back everyday, so mostly I slept on the sofa and left the bed folded up inside it. I had a couple end tables with lamps, a coffee table that I used for a dining table since I was using that for a desk and all my homework sat on it. A small television on a small stand and a bookcase with old, worn paperbacks and magazines from twenty years before I'd been born completed the room.
Surprisingly, my landlady had installed a full bathroom with a real bathtub, which seemed to waste a lot of space, but I was glad to have it. I've always liked taking baths more than showers. And I had a kitchen crowded with a refrigerator and a two burner stove, and just enough counter space for my toaster oven. It had been a present from my only brother. A toaster oven. I guess it was probably a good idea, and I did use it a lot, but that had been about the last thing I'd ever expected to get for my eighteenth birthday the previous June.
"No collar, huh?" I frowned at the dog as I kicked off my shoes. "Okay, let's see what we've got. Are you hungry?"
That was a silly question. All dogs are hungry, right? I felt kind of hungry myself and I didn't have a whole lot of food in my refrigerator, but I had some pot pies in the freezer. I figured one of those would probably make him happy. They aren't really that tasty, but they are cheap, and so I turned on the oven to preheat it and that would take ten minutes or so.
"Hey! Uh ... Okay, nice dog..." I blinked over my shoulder as the animal startled me, pushing his nose once more to the back of my knee.
He gave my leg a lick through the sheer panty hose I wore and then surprised me with a soft growl. I frowned and turned around to face him. He really was very large and his presence made the kitchen seem even smaller than it was. I felt my heart picking up speed and I hitched a sharp breath as the dog's nose pushed its way between my thighs and up, under my skirt.
"Stop that!" I told him, scolding the animal and reluctantly pushing my hands against his thick neck. "Be nice! Good doggy, remember?"
I really hoped he wouldn't bite me or something. I didn't try to grab him, but only pushed the dog back. He surprised me by not resisting at all. He let me push him away, giving me his amber eyes and a curious cock of his head. He licked his lips, or whatever dogs have, and stood there while I tried to figure out what I was going to do with a dog that was nearly as big as I was. Actually, the dog was probably bigger than me, if you think about it in practical terms.
He must have weighed somewhere around 125 pounds, maybe even more than that, while I was all of 110 soaking wet. If he'd stood on his hind legs, the dog probably could have looked me in the eyes, or close to it. I'm about 5'6" barefoot and just because I stood on two feet instead of four, I didn't feel superior to the animal. Not at all.
Read nex part
تعليقات
إرسال تعليق