As a rule, when I wake up in the morning, the very first thing my body asks to do is to empty the belly, both of liquid and solid waste.
But, since the ‘flu is altering my biological clock, Sunday I sat on the toilet for more than a couple of minutes and quickly understood nothing would come out of my B-side!
So, I didn’t worry much and got on with my chores, drank the usual two liters of lukewarm lemony water while still fasting, then had breakfast with my Gf, and, when she said she wasn’t feeling well enough to venture outside, I decided to go to the stables where Antigo is kept, installing in my mind the purpose of taking him for a ride, if the weather could allow it.
I drove to his owner’s place, the farm where there are other horses and some odd animal.
Antigo greeted me as usual, very excited to see his “helper” had arrived,
Since the first pat on the back and a few caresses to his neck, the dick didn’t last a full minute to appear in full size…
But this tale isn’t about horse-sex, so I skip the description of how I gave him the “relief” he deserved and was waiting for.
Let’s all concentrate on what happened at least half an hour after, when we both, very tired, were looking for a quiet spot to have some rest.
I think we had ridden for more than 10 kilometres, at a good speed.
He was obviously thirsty and quite sweaty, while I was eagerly looking around to select a place where I could safely dismantle, far from indiscreet eyes.
My bladder was bursting as it usually happens every morning, but that is never too inconvenient for me, even wearing tight jeans, peeing for me is always quite easy.
I know how to do it very quickly and in a discreet way.
Even in a semi-public place, I can roll the trousers down a bit and, concentrating not to wet them, discharge gallons in a flash…
But I was clearly feeling it wasn’t just liquids I had to free myself of.
So, given that physiological issue, the choice of where to “park” Antigo was particularly difficult.
For at least ten minutes more, we kept moving in an area I didn’t know at all, it was the first time we had headed that way, I usually prefer grassy tracks over flat terrain, but on Sunday had decided to explore the side of a hill, where I thought there were no buildings.
To my surprise, though, we found ourselves on an asphalted wide stretch, and, there, some huge properties were in sight.
Even if nobody is around, it’s always inadvisable to use a curb for a poo, unless one wants to be caught in the act.
My perception is that on a public road a car can quickly appear from nowhere, so, from the height of the saddle, I was looking for a suitable spot, inside the bushes.
But, there the vegetation was too thin and sparse to hide behind.
My tummy was grumbling though, sending me clear signs of impatience, in fact I couldn’t afford to be too choosy.
Resigned to the inevitability of the situation, I stopped Antigo by a tree, tied his reins, before jumping to the ground.
I landed on uneven and rough gravel, slightly twisting the right ankle.
That happened because I was grabbing my backpack, and forgot to secure an arm aroundAntigo’s neck.
But what was worrying me the most were right-side stitches, just below the thorax, where I could feel my bloated bowels ready to burst…
So, without any further hesitation, I rushed towards the only possible shelter, reachable walking, an old ruined rural construction located just behind an open rusty gate.
Carrying my bag, I reached a huge pile of rubble.
A little dusty, but suitable enough to lean on, while getting rid of the trousers.
You should know that, like many people, I have a well-tried routine for that type of circumstances.
I only feel comfortable if I undress completely below the waist, so to feel unimpeded, free to let nature act.
But, being suspicious of surroundings I had not checked out, I removed the knickers, deciding to wear the long dress I always take with me (in case I need to change).
Briefly looking around again, I found a place even more out the way, behind a stack of bricks, under the shade of a wide oak.
There, while securing the folded material around the hips, just when the first turd was almost out, I clearly heard the barking of a dog.
That distinctive, repeated, noise was coming from near-by.
I’m used to dogs roaming free in that environment, but if I’m alone, exposing my pussy and bum, I know I cannot take any chances.
A man and his dog could have easily found me in that very vulnerable position.
Just that thought totally froze the movement of my bowels.
So, immediately after seeing the big turd on the grass between the legs, I lifted myself up, rushing to dress, not even thinking of looking for a tissue to wipe my dirty asshole.
But, while the barking continued, it didn’t get any closer.
Past the urgency, I began to relax again, thinking to complete the “potty job”.
There was certainly something else filling my bowels and pushing to go out, and my bladder could not have been totally emptied.
But, before lifting the dress and squat again, curiosity won making me walk a few meters in high grass, bare-footed, in direction of the source of that irritating noise.
And, I saw him!
When I describe a dog, especially one I can be attracted to sexually, I’m often short of words.
It’s much easier to enumerate the features of a human being, where one can follow a widely-used pattern, first the gender than the height, the weight, the approximate age, followed by a general “portrait” embellished by a number of details, considered important to provide an idea of the aesthetics of that person.
But for an animal, my approach is quite different: I don’t look at him with the same eyes I use for people.
I know for him colours aren’t a significant factor, so I don’t fix my attention on ’em, and even the dimensions of the body become irrelevant once the feeling we reciprocally transmit to each other is established!
Still, because the reader needs respect, I’ll force myself to “photograph” that dog for you:
– Not older than a couple of years, intact male of a mixed breed, whose components I cannot decipher, but I tend to believe are mainly from bull-dogs (whose distinctive snout is quite recognisable) and German-Shepards, for the dark shade of the very furry coat.
The paws are huge, as they are in a hunting animal.
To be honest with you, what was mostly attracting my eyes was what he has between his rear legs!
Fully developed, bulky, I was really pleased about that!
As soon as he had me in sight, stopped barking, and started wagging the tail.
Not that I needed an encouragement.
Unfortunately, I soon realised he was kept at a chain, inside a “corral” totally fenced by a thick wire mesh net, impassable for me or anybody else who’s not an alpine climber.
Anyway, some wider gaps, probably due to some earlier escaping attempts of his, do permit to half of his head to venture out, if he feels the need to explore.
Eyes and tears stay trapped, but by the muzzle, he can easily sniff and lick outside the fence.
Even before he thought of reaching out to me, we stared at each other for a long moment, remaining still and silent as if we both were pleasantly surprised but undecided about what to do next.
I then took the initiative of leaning against the wire mesh, and heard myself telling:«come and meet your girl, lover boy, I’ll make you happy».
Pathetic – I know – but that was what my fantasy suggested, when I felt both legs waver, surrendering to the breeze as wildflowers do at the end of their time.
His response to my body-offering was quite simple, he got to meet me.
Five minutes later a great relationship was already on its way.
After having exhaustively licked and nipped all my 10 fingers, we advanced purportedly showing the genitals, I bared mine lifting the dress so that he could notice how congested and available I was there, while he was still in “transition-mood” but quite rapidly going into gear.
That was when we both couldn’t see anything else, 4 eyes mesmerised by the spectacle we were offering.
I was certainly emitting abundant olfactive signals, but I’m convinced that it was the mere sight of my open pussy which made him think of direct sexual implications.
His snout was so close to my pubis that his heavy breathing was giving me shivers.
To allow his tongue there, I should have squeezed against the fence, in a very awkward and uncomfortable position.
So, instead of inviting him to slurp my juices, I kept attentively looking at how things were getting ready for sex.
Surely the developments there surprised both of us.
I was expecting him to get horny, but only when I could find a way to offer him access to my femininity.
What happened instead was that, almost immediately, while we were looking at each other private parts, without any stimulation of teasing, the cock independently grew out of its sheath, not limiting at showing the pointed red tip.
Very ostensibly, the thing was well out searching for a way to my pussy!
Realizing that, the dog became quite embarrassed or perhaps, confused, reacted as he could to a feeling rarely experienced before.
He went down to himself using the mouth as a man would use his hand.
That sight made me a little puzzled but also pleasantly amazed.
While he was furiously licking the whole length of the penis shaft, I could clearly notice he was spurting fluids, which immediately were taken into the mouth, as if they were quenching his thirst.
But what really surprised me was the way the teeth took part in the process, occasionally nibbling the tip of the cock, either to further stimulate the desire or extinguish it by a painfully masochistic approach.
By my part, I was totally taken, very ready to have sex, but, as an alternative, using three fingers to emulate my partner’s activities.
Doing so, I came almost immediately, profusely wetting the grass and even the ground between my legs.
During at least 20 minutes, he never took the eyes off me.
I guess he watched my exhibition exactly as a man would have done if I was a WebGirl and accepted to show him a very intimate situation.
Given the opportunity, I’m sure he would have taken it, by the body-language his intentions were very explicit to me, mind and cock were ready to penetrate me.
But the fence between us didn’t allow that.
He seemed very aware of the obstacle, and quite frustrated about it.
When I realised that he was resigned to skip any direct sexual contact, the feelings led me to use my imagination, in search of a solution.
So, I flattened my back, lifting and straightening both legs, to make ’em rest on the wires.
As a result, my pubis was pressing against the fence.
In my wish, I was making my pussy and bum totally available to his tongue.
And, in fact, he didn’t think twice…Published in