****** Pet Lovers Forum Stories ******
===============================================================================

Silverwolf's Stories


Unfaithful, a Narrative

It had been a week since I held Tippy. An agonizingly long week of not holding
her, touching that tender body, tasting those sweet kisses or feeling the
warmth of her love. I had been a fool, taking her for granted, allowing myself
to believe that she had no concept of our relationship. An old friend stopped
by, asking to spend a few days. We had been partners once, not lovers but the
sex had been nice. I found myself wondering, flirting openly around Tippy. I
saw, but ignored, her hurt. I cursed her jealousy, hurting her more.

Two days after my friends arrival, while Tippy took a morning walk in the
garden as she did every morning, I gave in to lust. Tippy walked in the room, a
pain I had never seen before in her soft brown eyes, turned and slipped out
again. I jumped out of bed, thinking to go after her, changed my mind and sat
on the edge of the bed. My friend didn't understand, "So the dog watched us,
that means I can't get laid? what am I supposed to do, fuck myself?" I told her
I didn't care, as long as it wasn't with me. "I wouldn't have stayed here if I
knew I wasn't getting any. You used to be pretty damn good, and I didn't worry
about the next day."

"I'm still good, just not with you," I replied. My mind was on Tippy. I'd told
myself what we shared the past year was convenient, easily obtainable sex, like
all the relationships in my life had been. But seeing her eyes, the anguish,
the way it hurt me, I no longer knew what we had. I only knew that I felt
wrong, and I wanted to hold her, beg her to forgive me, as senseless as it
seemed to me at the time. I stepped in the shower, letting the water flow over
me, wishing it could clean my soul. I felt like dirt inside. My friend left
while I showered, not saying goodbye. What could I have said, though, that
would have made any sense to her? It didn't make sense to me yet.

The next few days Tip would have nothing to do with me, giving me that
mournful, accusing look if I spoke to her. Not knowing why, I felt ashamed and
guilty. I'd never known such a feeling of guilt. I knew I broke her tiny heart,
but couldn't fathom it bothering me so. I told her I was sorry. She gave me a
look of pure doubt. All week I found myself wondering if I'd ever hold her
again, aching to touch her face, to see joy in her eyes again.

Friday came, a special day for Tippy, when we would have a special dinner to
celebrate the anniversary of our meeting. I fixed a meatloaf, her favorite, and
potatoes au gratin, mine.

At the table that night, watching her nibble her food, candlelight reflecting
off her fur, I suddenly felt warm and happier than I ever had. Leaning toward
her, I whispered, "I love you Tippy". I'd said it many times before, to many
others, yet now I knew I meant it. "I love you Tip", I repeated, amazed at how
good it made me feel, "I love you, and I'll never love anyone else." She looked
up at me, her watery eyes glowing, left her dinner and climbed in my lap. I
hugged her tightly to me, rejoicing in the warmth of her. "I hurt you, and I'm
sorry," I cried, snuggling into her fur, "Please forgive me Tippy." She turned
her head, looking deep into my eyes, and kissed me. I was forgiven.

silverwolf
(okeefe.t@worldnet.att.net)