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The round poof of almost snow-white fur lay around her ears in thick locks. Dixie sat at the vanity that occupied one corner of her bedroom. It was the middle of the night, and she was wide awake. Her curly tail fluttered behind her bare rump, and her legs wrapped tightly around the legs of her stool. A single lit oil lamp sat on the vanity, it’s light cast across her naked bust. \n\nShe had never been one to wear clothing in the privacy of her home. As soon as she climbed the stairs to the upstairs room at the boarding house, and closed the door behind her, she would strip. Standing and walking, going about her business completely nude just made her feel confident in herself. It was like shedding her problems for the day. She possessed a tight body, with flared hips and firm bosom. Her lavender and gray fur stood out and made her body tones unique, and highly desirable. Or, so she told herself.\n\nA tingle of anxiety ran down her spine like electricity as she thought about that. First, she saw her best friend’s daughter making love on the riverbank, then she met that devilish mutt. The writer wasn’t sure what to make of him and Jenna’s apparent friendship, other than that it was clear to her that something more was going on. She knew Jenna wasn’t the type to have an affair. That just wasn’t something she could see her best friend doing. But there was something more to that friendship with a dashing, married, dog. Dixie ran the brush faster and faster through her fur as she thought back to Tramp’s rougish face and scraggly muzzle. Imagines of it between her legs and lapping at her merrily flashed across her mind's eye, heightening a growing arousal and releasing licks of flame all over her quivering body. \n\nThe pom whimpered, and slowly laid the brush on the vanity top. A hand rose to her right breast and she gently cupped it, before giving the nipple a little pinch.\n\n“Damnit, Sylvie,” The pom hissed to herself. “It’s easy for you to say I’m jealous. You don’t even like sex with men!” \n\nThe stuffiness of the bedroom on that spring evening was getting intolerable. The naked canine stood from her stool and walked over to the big gabled window. She flung it open, and sat on the cushioned bench that made up the inside windowsill, folding one leg to tuck onto the bench, while letting the other hang down inside. The tension in her body dissolved as a wave of cool night air washed over her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, tasting the crisp air on her tongue as the gentle breeze caressed her heated skin.\n\nHer apartment was on the third floor of a part of town that was mostly two stories. Only the building directly across the street equaled hers in height, and that apartment had been empty for months. Between the late hour and the additional height, Dixie feared little of being seen. Putting her back against the side windowsill and opening her eyes, she gazed out across the slate rooftops, gables, and spires of Marceline. The sky above was a rich tapestry of stars, while faint flickers of lamplight glowed between the buildings below. Squinting her eyes, she could just make out the ornate tower of the Marceline hotel, and just beyond that the rooftop of the depot. Her ears picked up the far-off wail of a steam whistle, over the ongoing chirp of crickets and the flutter of fireflies.\n\nLaying her head back against the windowsill, Dixie peered up at the moon. Her mind started to wander back to Nome, when things seemed a lot simpler. She was young, her friends were young, and it seemed like there was an abundance of opportunity for finding love, or at least someone to screw. Somehow, out of them all, Jenna seemed to have done all the right things. Maybe it was luck? Maybe something else. Marceline was different. There was more competition here. Life was quicker, harder, and faster. \n\nAnd yet Aleu had found someone. Dixie brought a hand to cup her right breast again, and she gently squeezed it. Memories of seeing the wolf and wolf-hound wrapped around each other flooded her mind’s eye. Her hand ran down the side of her torso, gliding along the curve of her lip. The pom could feel her heart rate increasing, and she rolled her lower lip and sucked on it. Her mind returned to the face of the Tramp, and how he and Jenna spoke on such friendly terms. The letter, the glances and smiles and laughter. They way Jenna deflected when asked about him. \n\n“Gawd! C’mon! They’re both married! I’m single and open.” Dixie whimpered. Her hand had found its way between her legs and was lying flat over her mound. She could feel the heat growing within her cupped palm. Carefully she let go of herself, and allowed her arm to fall limply to the side. “What’s a girl gotta do to get laid around here?”[/i]\n\n\nA scene from my most recent story, [url=https://inkbunny.net/s/3190572]A Tale of Two Dixies[/url]", "description_bbcode_parsed": "The Pomeranian grunted as she pulled the brush through her hair. The round poof of almost snow-white fur lay around her ears in thick locks. Dixie sat at the vanity that occupied one corner of her bedroom. It was the middle of the night, and she was wide awake. Her curly tail fluttered behind her bare rump, and her legs wrapped tightly around the legs of her stool. A single lit oil lamp sat on the vanity, it’s light cast across her naked bust.

She had never been one to wear clothing in the privacy of her home. As soon as she climbed the stairs to the upstairs room at the boarding house, and closed the door behind her, she would strip. Standing and walking, going about her business completely nude just made her feel confident in herself. It was like shedding her problems for the day. She possessed a tight body, with flared hips and firm bosom. Her lavender and gray fur stood out and made her body tones unique, and highly desirable. Or, so she told herself.

A tingle of anxiety ran down her spine like electricity as she thought about that. First, she saw her best friend’s daughter making love on the riverbank, then she met that devilish mutt. The writer wasn’t sure what to make of him and Jenna’s apparent friendship, other than that it was clear to her that something more was going on. She knew Jenna wasn’t the type to have an affair. That just wasn’t something she could see her best friend doing. But there was something more to that friendship with a dashing, married, dog. Dixie ran the brush faster and faster through her fur as she thought back to Tramp’s rougish face and scraggly muzzle. Imagines of it between her legs and lapping at her merrily flashed across her mind's eye, heightening a growing arousal and releasing licks of flame all over her quivering body.

The pom whimpered, and slowly laid the brush on the vanity top. A hand rose to her right breast and she gently cupped it, before giving the nipple a little pinch.

“Damnit, Sylvie,” The pom hissed to herself. “It’s easy for you to say I’m jealous. You don’t even like sex with men!”  

The stuffiness of the bedroom on that spring evening was getting intolerable. The naked canine stood from her stool and walked over to the big gabled window. She flung it open, and sat on the cushioned bench that made up the inside windowsill, folding one leg to tuck onto the bench, while letting the other hang down inside. The tension in her body dissolved as a wave of cool night air washed over her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, tasting the crisp air on her tongue as the gentle breeze caressed her heated skin.

Her apartment was on the third floor of a part of town that was mostly two stories. Only the building directly across the street equaled hers in height, and that apartment had been empty for months. Between the late hour and the additional height, Dixie feared little of being seen. Putting her back against the side windowsill and opening her eyes, she gazed out across the slate rooftops, gables, and spires of Marceline. The sky above was a rich tapestry of stars, while faint flickers of lamplight glowed between the buildings below. Squinting her eyes, she could just make out the ornate tower of the Marceline hotel, and just beyond that the rooftop of the depot. Her ears picked up the far-off wail of a steam whistle, over the ongoing chirp of crickets and the flutter of fireflies.

Laying her head back against the windowsill, Dixie peered up at the moon. Her mind started to wander back to Nome, when things seemed a lot simpler. She was young, her friends were young, and it seemed like there was an abundance of opportunity for finding love, or at least someone to screw. Somehow, out of them all, Jenna seemed to have done all the right things. Maybe it was luck? Maybe something else. Marceline was different. There was more competition here. Life was quicker, harder, and faster.

And yet Aleu had found someone. Dixie brought a hand to cup her right breast again, and she gently squeezed it. Memories of seeing the wolf and wolf-hound wrapped around each other flooded her mind’s eye. Her hand ran down the side of her torso, gliding along the curve of her lip. The pom could feel her heart rate increasing, and she rolled her lower lip and sucked on it. Her mind returned to the face of the Tramp, and how he and Jenna spoke on such friendly terms. The letter, the glances and smiles and laughter. They way Jenna deflected when asked about him.

“Gawd! C’mon! They’re both married! I’m single and open.” Dixie whimpered. Her hand had found its way between her legs and was lying flat over her mound. She could feel the heat growing within her cupped palm. Carefully she let go of herself, and allowed her arm to fall limply to the side. “What’s a girl gotta do to get laid around here?”


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