111 comments/ 674934 views/ 145 favorites A Bitch In Heat By: sarahhh Well, I finally got my sheepskin. I had it made into natural membrane condoms, the oldest type of protection still being used today. Much more comfortable than latex. I wasn't even going to attend commencement. Who wants to be bored silly and sweat for two hours? But my father said if I didn't—no graduation present. Dad had promised me a trip to anywhere in the world I wanted to go and a couple thousand dollars for expenses. So I suffered through it and at my party afterwards he gave me the roundtrip ticket from Pittsburgh to Glasgow and the cash. He did whine about it, though, until I pointed out that I could have asked for a new Corvette, like my brother Russell did when he graduated from law school (stay tuned for my next story, "Breastfeeding My Brother"). Forget the Corvette, for now. I desperately wanted to visit Scotland. I had just been to Mazatlan for spring break and I wasn't looking for fun in the sun this time. I have always been interested in genealogy and I discovered from my family tree research that I had Scottish ancestry. No surprise, considering my pale skin and red hair. Fortunately I had been able to locate a distant cousin on the internet and we exchanged frequent emails. Scotland began to intrigue me more and more as my cousin Hamish spun yarns of lore and legend. I didn't actually believe some of his stories. Like the one that he had been named after a famous biblical character, Ham, the son of Noah. He elaborated on the account in Genesis 9 where Ham uncovered his father Noah's nakedness. Hamish claimed that Ham originated the National Nude Day concept and also invented the sheepskin condom. Somehow one thing led to the other. He also attempted to persuade me that I was related to St. Patrick who drove the snakes out of Ireland and it was my divine destiny to drive the snakes wild in Scotland. But what really piqued my interest were the innuendos that Hamish kept dropping about dogging. He kept sending me these amusing poems like . . . Sarah, och Sarah, ma long lost, near perfect cousin. Whit ah like tae dae, mibbe, ah wunner, she disnae. She's comin tae visit, right soon, so she seys, Tae fun oot mair, much mairo o' oor auld Scottish weys. Ah'll meet 'ur, an' greet 'ur, an' show 'ur some sights, introduce 'ur tae family, an' pals. An' my hobby, that delights. Wull she, ah wunner, end happy, growlin, and barkin, efter the time we spend sae publicly car parking? Ah tremble, in anticipation o' her gleeful participation, an' wunner yit again, wull she be here fur the pleasing, or is she fu' o' talk an' bravado, jist some burd who' cock teasin? The first thing I thought when I heard (he sent me a recording) was what the heck makes him think I'm a cock tease? He must have read my poem "Cock Tease." posted on Literotica. His obsession with dogging did begin to annoy me on the one hand. But on the other hand every time he did mention it my panties got moist. Hamish also sent me a kilt in the family tartan as a gift. It mostly fit but was a bit short, at least for me. I have quite the long legs. Why it barely covered you know what. Which concerned me considerably since I knew that a true Scotsman, or woman, went commando. After landing at the airport in Glasgow and departing the plane I stood in the airport with a sign that said, "I love dogging." That's what Hamish suggested so he could recognize me. I had sent him a picture of me but he said that wouldn't help much because half the girls in Scotland are pretty and have red hair and great hooters. So I wore the sign. At the time I didn't know exactly what "dogging" meant. But I do love my golden retriever Goldilocks so I went along. The first thing Hamish said to me when he met me at BAA Glasgow Airport was, "Sarah, your miniskirt is a wee short. I can see your thong. What color is that, anyway?" "Not a thong, Hamish. A Rio brief." I lifted up the kilt so he could see it better. "The color is called 'iced oive.' And this miniskirt happens to be the kilt you sent me. Remember?" "Oh yeah. It must have shrunk. Wool does that, you know. Hey, you promised to go commando. What's up with that?" "Hey, this is more like a belt than a skirt. I might go commando, but certainly not here. Maybe a dark bar or some such place." "I know where!" "I'm sure you do." "Well, what would you like to do first, Sarah? How about some mince an' tatties?" "Hamish! I think we should get to know one another better before we start talking about kinky sex." "No, no, mince and tatties is food, a Scottish dish." "Oh. Sorry. Please take me on a little tour first, though. I'm not real hungry yet." From the airport we went over Erskine Bridge and on to Balloch, a small town situated by yon bonnie banks of Loch Lomond. Then we drove about a half hour into Glasgow city center. Hamish made crude jokes about shaggin' wagons in the transport museum at Kelvin Hall. "That's what they used for dogging before automobiles were invented," he reported. "Oh, did you drive those on the wrong side of the road too?" I snapped. I asked him to take me to the Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery which he did. Then we hit the designer boutiques in Princes Square. Hamish fondled the lingerie in Wolford. He held up black tanga panties with delicate lace trim on the front and silky soft velvet material on the back. "Do you think these would look good on me?" "On me, don't you mean?" "Uh . . . yeah, on you. I love the feel of this fabric. I bet it feels so nice next to your skin." I noticed he had a big bulge in his pants so I thought we better get out of that place. "Hamish, can we go to Edinburgh now? I'm dying to see the castle. I want to rub the Stone of Scone. I heard it helps one get lucky." But when we got to the castle it had closed for the day. I started to cry. "Sarah, don't be upset. We can come back tomorrow. You can't rub the Stone of Scone anyway. It's under glass. Along with the Crown Jewels. But if it's family jewels you'd like to rub to get lucky . . ." "Hamish! Is that some sort of sexual innuendo?" "Of course not. How about some food now?" We stopped at a restaurant called Dubh Prais not far from the castle gates and got some haggis and neeps to go. It looked somewhat edible. I don't know about some of the other items on the menu which didn't sound very appetizing. "Hamish, what is skirlie and skink?" "Skirlie is oatmeal and onions fried together. Skink is fish soup. I love skink." He looked at me lecherously for some reason. As we drove away from the restaurant, I looked over my shoulder into the rear of Hamish's conversion van. The mattress and pillows in the back in particular caught my attention, as did the fact that the rear side and back windows had been replaced with clear plastic that had been taped on. I glanced at him inquisitively. "Vandals broke the windows," he explained. "Twice. I had the windows replaced once. After the second time I thought why bother. I travel a lot and sleep in the van. Saves a lot of money on hotel and motel expenses." I picked up the May issue of marie claire lying on the dashboard. "You read this?" I inquired. "It's mostly about fashion and makeup." Leafing through it, I found an article of interest on page 202. I read the headline aloud. "I spent $7,000 to get my vagina tightened." I couldn't help but giggle. "Read the headline on the next page," he suggested. "I got collagen in my G-spot." "Keep reading." "One night on the local news, my mother and I heard about a doctor who injects collagen into your G-spot to make it larger and more sensitive. The report said it costs $1800 and is supposed to heighten your sexual experience, so we decided I should try it. I wasn't having any trouble with orgasms, but this sounded like a sexual enhancement that could be fun." "I'm in the pharmaceutical business you know," he stated matter-of-factly. "Well, I'm quite satisfied with my orgasms and I don't want to be messing with a good thing. Why don't you inject some collagen into your penis and make it larger and more sensitive?" "I'm quite satisfied with the size of my penis and its sensitivity, thank you very much." "Ah yes, man's best friend. How often do you pet your dog?" "Speaking of that, turn to page 101 if you want to lairn of dogging my dear cousin." I did and began to skim the article entitled "Ready for Dogging? (Details on the naughty new sex trend)." I read aloud. "Dogging refers to having or watching sex in a public place, usually outdoors. The term originates from men using imaginary dogs as an excuse for hanging around in the bushes. It attracts people from varied backgrounds, age groups, and professions, and it happens in parking lots, fields, and picnic areas all over the U.K." "What did I tell you?" "Oh, and listen to this. 'Denise Knowles, a sex therapist and relationship counselor, confirms that dogging feeds the naughty, experiment side of human nature.' Here's a quote from the good doctor, 'I suspect men and women go for different reasons: the men because they like the role of stud, and the women because they like to feel beautiful and desired. Dogging is like being able to watch and act in a live porn movie, and that is very exciting to a lot of people.' I'm getting a little . . . uh . . . just reading this . . ." "Go on, Sarah. Anything else interesting?" "Hmmm. Well, how about this. 'Unsurprisingly, dogging is very much a male dominated pastime, with around four men taking part for every woman. For the women I interviewed, much of dogging's attraction derives from the power it gives them over men.' I want the power!" "Sarah, what say we stop at my favorite dogging site and eat our supper?" "Well, I am hungry now. Real horn . . . uh hungry. You know, I bet I can guess how your windows were broken." We arrived at the dogging hot spot, Muiravonside Country Park. "Look, Hamish—there's a group of people standing around a car looking in the windows. They don't seem to be having much fun, though. I mean, they're not hooting or hollering or anything." "I bet you can make them perk up." "Think so?" I unbuttoned my blouse, popped my breathless blue balconet bra, licked my fingers and began to tease my nipples. "You mean 'perk up' like these?" "Exactly! Your breasts are lovely. Do you mind if I touch them?" "Yes I mind!" "Geez, I just asked. You have a mean side." "Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe you can touch them. I'll let you know when. What does that sign say over to the right of that car? I can't quite make it out." "Well, I have exceptional vision, so says my optometrist. The sign says, 'Celebrate National Nude Day Here. Doggers Welcome. Woof, Woof.' And there's a picture of a bone under the words." "I can make that out. That's not a bone, it's a penis." "Whatever. National Nude Day, the modern version, began here in Edinburgh, you know." He explained that what he meant by the modern version was A.D. as opposed to B.C., and reiterated that Ham the son of Noah actually initiated the concept. Jeremiah, the real Saint Patrick, in turn brought the celebration to Ireland and his descendents then got naked in Scotland. When I mentioned that I had heard that National Nude Day began in Dunedin, New Zealand, Hamish snapped, "Why you silly girl, don't you know that we Scots settled Dunedin and the name means New Edinburgh? Didn't they teach you world history and geography at university? And what are you going to do to celebrate National Nude Day, my dear cousin? You might lose the kilt for starters." "Sure, why not." I did. He looked shocked. "Sarah, where is your Rio brief?" "At lunch . . . that dude at the next table who kept dropping his utensils and napkin? He was trying to look up my kilt, the pervert! Remember when I went to the girl's room? I put my panties in my purse." "No wonder the guy started choking when you came back. I thought I might have to do the Heimlich maneuver." "Oh yeah, I gave him a real good gander at my goober." "Could you give me one? A real good gander at your goober? You're sitting there with your long, lovely legs crossed and I can't get the money shot." I uncrossed my legs and spread them a little. "Better?" "Wow, your little red bush matches the hair on your head perfectly. Just lovely." "Well, I have an exceptional pussy, so says my gynecologist." "Could you spread your legs a little more?" "I would, but you'd probably give me a shot of collagen on my G-spot and get me all wild and crazy." "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. Do you want to do this dogging thing or not? You have to at least let people look." "Uh … well . . . uh . . . okay, I guess. I'll get in the back and you stand outside the van and look in the windows. Oh . . . and . . . Hamish?" "Yes, Sarah?" "Go get those dudes standing around that other car to join you, please." Two minutes later a half dozen men stood around the van. Tongues hanging out. And that's not all that hung out. They pressed their faces up against the plastic on the rear and back windows. It looked really weird. "Okay, Sarah, give us a show!" Hamish demanded. The others seconded his request quite enthusiastically. "Hamish, please take the plastic off the windows so I can hear what you all are saying. But tell them no reaching in and touching. Unless I ask." He complied quickly. I reclined on the mattress and propped my head up with the pillows. One of the onlookers asked, "What is that thing? Some sort of electric shaver? Your legs don't look furry to me, hen." "This multi-faceted, battery-operated device is a Clitopatra II," I advised smugly, turning it, and me, on. "It's a scientific fact that girls who masturbate are able to have a big 'O' with a man more readily than those who don't. Think of it like giving your car a tune-up with the right tools before taking it for a ride. Hey, you choke your chicken, don't you?" His face got red. "Now be quiet so I can concentrate. I'm going to fantasize that Russell Crowe is giving me an acting lesson. In a porn flick. He's Scottish, isn't he?" "Australian," Hamish corrected. "Whatever." Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Didn't take long for Russell, playing a naked Moses in the movie, wielding his rod that turned into a serpent to take me to the promised land. As I lay there winding down I couldn't help notice this one dude had a really big tongue. "Hey you, the one in the shirt with the smiley on the front," I called. "Yes, hen?" "Are you a rock star?" He did look the part. Long scraggly hair, skinny, big lips. Mick Jagger or Gene Simmons. But with a really big tongue. "How did you know, hen?" "Female intuition. So what's your band, dude? Have you been on MTV? What instrument do you play? Do you sing? I always wanted to be a groupie for a band. At the top of my list, right after Pittsburgh Steelers cheerleader. They don't have any you know." "I didn't know that, hen." He explained that he had been an integral part of "Yodel In My Canyon of Love" by Do Re Mi with Kerry that finished second in the Great British Song Contest of 1997. "I did the yodeling in the background," he boasted. "What's your name?" "Bearach. It means 'pointed weapon' my mother told me. My father has a tongue just like mine." "Does your mom smile a lot?" "Yes, matter of fact she does." "So Bearach, do you do cunnilingus?" "That must be an Irish tune. I'm Scottish." "Latin. Would you like to come in the van and yodel in my canyon of love?" "Huh?" "Flip the bean, tickle the bearded clam, dive for tuna." He still looked puzzled. "What part of 'eat me' don't you understand, dude?" In five seconds he was in the van, had my legs spread, and began to lap me like a very thirsty dog. "Bearach! Slow down, honey. You're not wolfing down haggis and neeps now." These dudes had chowed down on our food while they watched me masturbate. "Here, let me show you something. This is my clitoris. It needs your undivided attention at the moment. Just press your tongue into my pussy and let me do the work, setting the pace, pressure, and rhythm." The tune-up with my vibrator had me ready for another big 'O,' and soon. Fortunately, with a lot of coaching, he got the idea. I mean, I don't like to be so assertive as to yank on a dude's tongue and put it right on my hot spot, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. All the while Bearach muff dived, Hamish kept whining, "Hey Sarah, what about me? I am your cousin you know." "Be careful what you ask for, Hamish," I chided, catching my breath, "I'll give you your real good shagging soon enough." I dismissed Bearach and invited Guirmean into the van with, "Give it to me, baby, give it to me good." He informed me his name meant 'blue one.' I'd say it looked more purple to me. But not for long because I made it disappear real quick. I raised my legs and crossed my ankles so my right foot was planted against the right side of his chest and my left foot was against the left side of his chest. By doing so I could really feel my vaginal walls squeeze down on his python of pleasure as if I was doing one long Kegel exercise on him. I did it harder and harder until one super intense squeeze sent him right over the edge, and me. I pushed him out and away, as I sighed, "You're my hero." I motioned for Conan. "I would feel so safe lying beneath you," I purred. He informed me his name meant "wee doggie" and I could see why. I tried to boost his confidence by telling him that anything more than a mouthful is a waste. So he wouldn't be as likely to fall out I took the pillows from under my head and placed them under my backside to elevate my vaginal canal. Not only could he go very deep, at least for him, this position provided maximum contact between his body and my clitoris. As he humped like crazy I reassured him with comments like, "It's not how deep you fish, honey, it's how you wiggle the worm." He wiggled until I shivered and quivered. Gilliosa took his turn next. He told me his name meant "servant of Christ" and I screamed "JES—SUS" over and over as he raised my legs to a 90-degree angle and rammed it home. He stood between my legs, gripping my ankles and spreading my legs apart as he entered me. Then he opened and closed my legs as he thrust. One minutes his joy stick felt snugly inside me and the next my vaginal canal was wider and I could take him in deep. The constantly alternating sensations meant that just as I reached the point of no return I was back on the brink. I seemed like it took forever for me to max out. Not that I complained, mind you. "How the hell did you do that?" I complimented. The biggest wonder worm took over. Machar said his name meant "plainsman." I cooed, "The sound of your voice makes my nipples hard." I lied. It really was the sight of his package. His name should have been "painsman" because he kinda hurt me as he jumped my bones. Machar turned me over on all fours and entered me from behind. But he didn't pump back-and-forth or in-and-out. No, he rotated his pussy tamer inside me, stimulating every inch of my vaginal canal and finding my G-spot which gave me intense pleasure until I collapsed in ecstasy. "It hurts, but I love it when you do it," I moaned. Exhausted, I waved my arms in surrender and cried, "No more pickle-me-tickle-me!" But then poor Gilleasbaig started to cry and his dick got limp in his hand. His name meant "in service of the bishop" he claimed. So I serviced his bishop. I fell asleep with his dick in my mouth, but soon Hamish woke me. "Sarah! Sarah! I want my shagging!" When I looked at him I gasped. He had gotten into my travel bag and put on my lilac unlined demi bra in floral lace with jacquard detail. And the matching panties. Very angry because obviously he had stretched my things to the point where they no longer would fit me, I strapped on the harness with the big plaid dildo. And then I got out of the van. I needed more room to operate. A Bitch in Heat Gets Mounted This story was inspired by a woman who posted amateur pictures of herself on Literotica. It was originally written specially for her at her request, and is posted with her permission, though it has been considerably enlarged, modified and edited for public posting. Please comment and vote. I write only for your entertainment. Your feedback is critical to me. I respond gratefully to all comments, positive or negative. I hope you enjoy this story, but either way please let me know what you like and don't like about it. ------------------------------ Sharon liked posting naughty pictures of herself on Literotica. She had only done it a few times, but found it exciting - even arousing. She took the pictures herself during the day while her husband was at work using her digital camera's automatic setting. She would set the camera up on the tripod and then take lots of shots, deleting most of them and just keeping the ones that turned out well. She would imagine how she would look in a provocative pose or with a particularly sexy piece of lingerie and then she would try it out and see if it really looked as sexy as she imagined. Her body was trim and shapely; like most women, she worried that her butt might be just a little too big and that her boobs might be just a little on the small side. Posting her pics and getting enthusiastic comments back from men was a total turn-on. They all seemed to think her body was perfectly gorgeous. Many of them told her they used her pictures for jerking off and would tell her their fantasies about her, imagining what they would like to do with her. Some of these were a bit gross but knowing that she could cause men to go crazy with lust over her pictures was mind blowing. She liked to imagine what they looked like, stroking their cocks and spurting while they lusted over her. Sometimes, reading the comments and private messages she got back from men, she would get so aroused, she would rub her crotch until she came, just sitting at the computer. She showed her husband Jim the pictures and the comments. At first he was shocked and a bit jealous. He said: "You never took pictures like this for me." To which Sharon replied: "Well, now I have. These are for you." Jim said: "Yeh, just me and half a million perverts on the Internet." As Jim kept looking at the pictures he also found them highly erotic. It was certainly fun to see him looking at porn pictures that were of her and acting like he was looking at centerfolds. It turned them both on. He said if he had just the pictures instead of her he would be masturbating to them himself. She told him that thinking about her pictures arousing men just made her want to cum so bad, she could hardly stand it. This resulted in a trip to the bedroom where he granted her desire to cum and also satisfied himself. After she showed Jim the website he said he would look at them on his computer at work in his office. She often thought about him looking at her erotic poses from work...her pictures making him hard. Usually, she took photographs in the bedroom with her on the bed but she was experimenting with other locations. She had also become more daring, wearing less and less, and showing more and more details. She had also started shaving her pussy because so many men had sent messages asking to see her shaved. This also turned on her husband immensely. He liked to touch her bare pussy lips right after she shaved and he would often take some massage oil from the nightstand and gently rub it all over those smooth cunt lips, watching them engorge with passion from the pleasure of his touch. One afternoon she was working in the back garden. She was wearing some short cutoffs and a brief halter top so she could work on her tan while she gardened. It was the time of in her cycle when she knew she was ovulating. Her hormones during ovulation always made her especially horny. She had told Jim they just made her want to cum all the time. After a while everything she looked at reminder her of sex: Carrots, cucumbers, zucchini, whatever. Looking at her watch, she realized Jim would be home in an hour; she hurried to get cleaned up so she could start dinner. She decided she really needed a bath to get the dirt and sweat off and get really ready for Jim. She put some fragrant bath oil in the water and soaked for a bit, fantasizing about being with Jim in a tropical pool, a little waterfall washing over them, both of them naked. She was starting to feel just a bit tingly. She shaved her legs smooth; she very carefully shaved her pussy, working her way very carefully over the lips and up around the hood of her clit. Jim said he liked that because it made it easier to get his tongue on her clit. This was really starting to get her hot. She was thinking about masturbating but Jim would be home before too long; so she wanted to save her arousal for him. She left a nice carefully trimmed strip of hair up above her cunt; otherwise, her vulva was smooth as a baby's bottom. She got out of the bath and dried herself off. Standing naked in front of the mirror, she blew her hair dry, watching her body in the mirror, imagining men going wild with lust watching it. Her breasts were firm, not huge or saggy. The nipples were pink and erect. She made her boobs bounce and jiggle just to see what that looked like and decided it looked somewhat sexy and somewhat funny. Her tummy was not quite perfectly flat, just a tiny bit rounded below the navel. She looked down at her crotch and could see her cunt lips exposed below the trimmed patch of hair. She knew that men just loved to see those lips and told her so in their messages. Finishing with the blow drier, she rubbed moisturizing body lotion all over herself, imagining that her hands were Jim's hands, a little bit rough, but still gentle. starting with her feet, then up her legs, feeling the warmth and tingle as she spread it over her newly shaven lower lips, then on to her tummy, and up to her chest. She rubbed the lotion onto her breasts, massaging her nipples, imagining Jim suckling on them, and feeling the response in her pussy, and the clenching inside her belly that it caused. Still totally naked and getting very aroused, she decided that since she was all spiffed up, she had enough time to take a few pictures to post before Jim got home. She went downstairs and got out the camera and tripod. Looking around for a good location, she decided to take some "naughty housewife" shots in the kitchen. She put on a short, frilly, pink checked apron that half covered her breasts and stopped just at her crotch. She ran back upstairs and got her red spike heels; she knew they made her butt stick out sexily. She set the camera to take a sequence of pictures ten seconds apart. The camera was by the doorway to the kitchen aimed toward the counter by the sink. She checked in the viewfinder to make sure it was zoomed out to just about her height. As the flash started going off at ten second intervals she started flirting with the camera, standing coyly facing it, so the apron covered her "essentials" [flash]. She pulled the apron tight so that her nipples stuck out on each side of it [flash]. Her nipples were starting to get hard from thinking about herself being displayed so erotically [flash]. She reached back to untie the string of the apron behind her neck [flash] her breasts thrust out proudly [flash]. She began letting the apron down, little by little, revealing her body six inches at a time, exposing her breasts [flash], her torso [flash], her waist [flash], her tummy [flash], and her strip of hair [flash], her pussy lips [flash], her thighs [flash], and finally dropped it to the floor [flash]. She stood sideways sticking out her butt, [flash] her arms pretending to cover her breasts, but purposely not doing a very good job of concealing them. [flash] Finally, she turned to face away from the camera. [flash] She stuck her bare ass out at the camera. [flash] She leaned forward against the counter to emphasize the roundness of her butt. [flash] She spread her legs, her feet in her spike heels about 18 inches apart, [flash] leaning forward, [flash] thinking that her pussy was probably exposed from behind, [flash] and maybe her asshole. [flash] She tilted her butt up a little higher, [flash] leaning forward more, [flash] to expose her bare pussy a little more, [flash] imagining men going crazy with lust, rubbing their cocks. [flash] Her pussy was really getting warm. The tingle was spreading. She could start to smell the scent of her own arousal She imagined not just one guy looking at her picture, but lots of them, guys of all ages sizes and varieties, a big group of them, greedily wanting her pussy---wanting desperately to use her ruthlessly on their throbbing cocks. She imagined them right there in the kitchen, right across the room, behind the camera, a room full of horny men all wanting to fuck her from behind, thinking how it would feel to have a cock slide into her oh-so-wet canal. She was lost in reverie, daydreaming, as the camera went flash ...flash...flash. She began massaging her breasts with one hand while the other crept down toward that patch of hair. She imagined herself no longer in her kitchen but on the stage at a strip club, her naked ass facing the room full of desperately horny men, the flash, flash, flash of the stage strobe lights. She imagined the music, a rhythmic gypsy beat of cymbals, tambourines and drums. She pictured herself, breathless from her just completed dance, naked, her costume tossed to the cheering men, the music still pounding exotically. She pictured the men, filled with lust staring at her ass and pussy thrust out toward them, their hands furtively moving on their laps. She began swaying to the beat of the imaginary music, her behind beginning to make circles in rhythm with the beat of the music. She was so absorbed in her day dream, she didn't hear the front door open as Jim came home and came to the kitchen to put his lunch bucket away. He got to the doorway of the kitchen, seeing the camera flashing, and stopped. He just stood there staring for few seconds, while he realized what she was doing. He could see her smooth pussy, opening up wetly, all the way across the room. He could see how aroused she was. He watched her tail waving in circles round and round. His lust was instantaneous, with a tinge of jealousy about her showing her pictures to other guys. The jealousy just aroused him all the more. He could tell how much she wanted to get fucked. His cock came to throbbing life demanding to be used. He wanted her and he wanted her NOW. He dropped the lunch bucket on the floor and in two steps was across the kitchen. In her imagination the bang of the lunch box hitting the floor blended in with the imagined cymbal crash of her daydream music. Before she realized what it really was, he was on her, grabbing her around the waist with one hand, around the breasts with the other. Jim nearly snarled at her in his animal lust. "Looking at your butt sticking out so you show your pussy from behind, and knowing that showing it off makes you want to cum all the time, I know; You are a bitch in heat. You are just like a mongrel, wagging your tail, hoping to get mounted by whatever mutt comes along. You don't care who fucks you, as long as you get fucked. You are obviously just asking for it." His words hit her like an electric shock sending shivers all over her body. Sharon was so startled, she could not even speak; she let out a groan of lust and desire. She broke out in goose bumps. With a growl Jim picked her up bodily from behind. He carried her to the big oak dining table. He practically flung her against it, bending her over the table, her ass sticking out against his hardness. Jim, in throaty jealous lust, his jaw clenched, spoke. "You fucking sexy little bitch. You've been posting your ass all over that website again, haven't you? You want fucking? OK, I'll give you a fucking you naughty slut." With one big hand Jim held her down against the table so she couldn't rise. He stood to one side and put his leg behind her legs, trapping them. With his free hand, he felt between her legs, wiping the pussy juice across her lips, stroking, feeling how wet, open and aroused she was. He spoke: "You fucking naughty little bitch, you're so wet, I'll bet you'd let anyone or anything fuck you right now!" Seeing the still rolled afternoon paper on the table, he picked it up and began angrily swatting her round ass with it. At first she was too startled to react but after a few repeated swats, it was starting to hurt. She tried to get up but she was held down firmly. She flailed her hands behind her trying to shield her behind but it was futile. She began to protest. "Ouch, Jim, you're hurting me! Ow, ouch, oh, that really hurts, stop Jim, don't hurt me." He spoke. "It's supposed to hurt, you bitch, that's how we train a dog." He gave her a few more swats, to emphasize his point. Then his lust to put his hand on her ass overcame his symbolic use of the newspaper. He tossed the newspaper aside, and began spanking her bare ass with his hand, his big hand covering most of her little butt, turning it redder and redder. Sharon couldn't figure out whether she liked it or hated it. It stung. It burned. But she was so aroused, she could hardly stand it. She began thrashing around, trying to evade his hand, but he was much too strong and she succeeded only in exciting him more in her wriggling and writhing. He became lost in a rage of lust, spanking, spanking, no longer thinking, just lusting, bending her at his will, his hardon raging in his pants. But now her pain was getting too bad. She couldn't take it any more. She began to cry. "Jim, please, stop, no more, I can't take any more, oh, oh, oh, just fuck me Jim, fuck me now, please Jim, ohhhhhhh, please, fuck me. Fuck Me! FUCK ME! FUCK MEEEEEEE!" Her cry ended in a scream, a wail, a mixture of pain, lust, fear desire, need. Jim's spanking finally wound down to a stop. He said,"OK, bitch, you really wanta get fucked, now? "Oh, yes, oh yes." She gasped. "Please, fuck me like a dog." He forced her legs apart, felt the wetness of her pussy, rubbed her cunt lips and clit with his hand. He forced his thumb into her dripping cunt hole. The entry made her gasp with pleasure. "Is this where you want it, bitch?" "Oh, god, yes." She pleaded. "Yes, now, please, I can't wait any longer." His index finger felt her clit, making her writhe. He pulled his now dripping thumb from her cunt and pushed it against her asshole. His index finger now replaced his thumb in her twat. His thumb forced its way into her ass, causing her to gasp with pain and pleasure. He squeezed his thumb and forefinger together inside her, while massaging her clit with his middle finger. She shivered. She felt the rush coming. It had been building all afternoon, wanting it, holding it back, needing it. With a groan, she came, gushing over his hand and down her legs, spasming, convulsing, her legs stiffening. The sight of her orgasmic convulsions brought Jim's lust to its peak. While her exhausted body was too drained to rise, Jim quickly unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Not bothering to drop his pants, he got behind her, and forced his raging tool into her cunt, taking her from behind. He began thrusting into her. He leaned over her and grabbed her by the boobs, crushing them in his big hands, squeezing them, using them as handles to pull against while he thrust his cock into her over and over and over. Crushed against her red spanked behind, Sharon felt the rough cloth of his pants and the zipper of his trousers. She could feel him going crazy, pumping in and out and grunting like an animal. She felt the weight of him pushing her down onto the table. She was being bounced around under him helplessly. She grabbing onto the opposite side of the table with both hands, hanging on for dear life. Sharon could feel his surging cock stretching her pussy, the head coming almost out and then back in, feeling his forceful penetrations. Her pubic bone was being ground against the top of the table. Her clit was mashed against the table edge. Her feet were coming off the floor with the force of his pounding. Her nipples were throbbing. Then, as he humped her and gripped her boobs, he began grunting, almost in animalistic noises, forcing words out between grunts: "Ohhhhh Gaaaawwwwed what a slut you are! You just remember that your body is MINE, you little fuck! Nnnnn, mmmmm, I'm gonna use your sexy cunt any time I want, anywhere I want and any way I want mmmpph, unnnkk, ggggghhhh. You're such a horny cunt. You stick your pussy out like that girl and it's gonna get fucked, oh, ohhhhh, ohhhhh! I'll take your ass, but good, you bitch! You want cock? I'll give you more cock than you can stand! I'll whack your damn ass black and blue, you naughty bitch! You go wagging your fucking tail at the neighborhood, I'll damned well use it. You show your bitchin ass to the world, just remember that it's MY cock that's gonna get rammed up it, uhh, ohh, nnn! You feel me, bitch? You hear me bitch?" His grunts and groans mixed with his words in a fury of lust. The dirty talk got to Sharon. She couldn't take any more. It put her over the edge again. Her legs curled up behind him. Her feet wrapped around his legs, clutching at them. Her fists tightened on the far edge of the table. She felt the spasms all through her body. She felt the hormone-drug rush surging through her. She lost awareness of anything except the feel of her stretched, swollen vagina, her over-stimulated clit, her crushed nipples hot-wired directly to her clit, the rippling of the convulsions washing over her in wave after wave after wave, cumming, and cumming, and cumming. With a huge groan Jim felt her pussy clenching his cock. He went into convulsive spasms. His weight fell onto her harder as his legs lost control. His fists dug into her breasts harder and harder. She cried out with the pain, causing him only to groan a sadistic chuckle. The pain, the pleasure, all mingled together as with a new surge of lovely warmth, she felt his body, hard on top of her, surging rhythmically as he pumped into her, again, and again, and again. She imagined his seed spurting deep, deep up into her, driven into her, forced into her, squirting, gushing, flowing. His spasms subsided and he lay on top of her, sated and spent. He just lay there for a while, his dick slowly shrinking. She felt the dampness under her, spreading. He stood up and backed out. She felt the gentle suck of his cock coming out, the emptiness in her pussy, missing him inside her. With his left hand pressing her back down on the table, he rubbed his right hand all over her sore red behind. She felt the soreness. He gave it a few more slaps, causing her to jerk in surprise and pain. He reached in between her legs and gently stroked her pussy, feeling inside her cunt, then rubbed the wetness up across her anus, circling it with his fingers. He lifted her legs and rotated her body up onto the table top. Then he rolled her over face up. He rubbed his fingers, wet with her pussy juice, on her lips, then leaned over and kissed her, long and hard, while stroking her belly, breasts, thighs and pussy. He leaned back, staring at her well fucked body while he pulled his pants up and zipped them up. Then he said: "I'm gonna go take a shower. Clean up this mess before dinner, wouldja? And put some damn clothes on, or I'm liable to do that again, only worse." He left her lying exhausted, sore and bruised, on the table. She smiled.