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Peanut Butter
Date: 10/2/2015, Categories: First Time, Group Sex, Taboo, Author: stif266, Rating: 94, Source: xHamster
To begin with, let me tell you something about myself. I'm a divorcee, recently out of yet another unsatisfactory relationship. Our last time together, "Ralph" tied me down to my bed, stuck all four of the pillows beneath my hips, gagged me with my own panties and bra, and then instructed his dog Rodney on how to make love to his girlfriend. I kicked the son of a bitch out of the house. One afternoon a month or so after the assault, I was in the kitchen, making a pitcher of Lipton Iced Tea. I glanced out the back door, having seen something from the corner of my eye. It was Loopy, the next door neighbor's dog, a large Black Lab. He was chewing on a rawhide bone, his energetic tugging motion what I'd seen peripherally. I flinched, reminded of that night I'd been with another dog. My mouth pressed into a thin line as I walked to the back door and began to shut it. Loopy looked up. "What do you want?" I mouthed at the foul b**st. "To lick my pussy? To stick that disgusting piece of meat up my cunt? Well, dream on, asshole. It ain't gonna happen." I had just closed the door and turned away when I heard a scratching sound. It couldn't be, I thought. He wouldn't dare. Apparently, he would. "You must be k**ding me?" I accused. The stupid dog sat on my back stoop, staring up at me. Of all the nerve. "Get off of my property," I commanded. With my right hand, I shooed him away. He wouldn't go. He just sat there, staring up at me. I crossed to ... the kitchen phone, picked it up, and dialed the house next door. On the third ring, it picked up. "Hi. This is the Dawsons. We're out right now, but if you'd leave a name and message, we'll get right back to you. Honest," Ron Dawson promised me. Not knowing exactly what to say, I hung up. Then I called back and properly prepared, left a short message telling Ron that his dog was at my house, sitting on the back stoop. Only when I hung up the phone and turned around, Loopy was not sitting on the stoop, but standing inside the back door, panting happily. "You must be k**ding me," I said again. "Get out of here, Loopy. Shoo." But Loopy was going nowhere. He dropped onto his rear haunches and continued to look up at me and pant. "This is bullshit," I grumbled. I returned to the phone, hit redial, and told Ron Dawson where his dog was now. "You really need to come and get him," I warned. "You know how I am about dogs. I hate them, Ron." I feared them more, especially males who could threaten me with that thing between their legs. I put my hand to my mouth, momentarily reliving that night, flashing back to the horror. But I was not tied up. My behind was not elevated on pillows. I was not naked and spread with peanut butter in my genitals. Angry, I sat down at the table and eyed the dog. I couldn't touch him. I wouldn't touch him. I hadn't touched a dog since that night, nor would I. I reminded myself that it was only a month ago, and ...