When Linda Wells had left Tuesday evening, she had made Jay promise that they would get together again Thursday night. Wednesday seemed to take months to go by. All day Thursday, Jay was nervous and jumpy. When Karen asked him, over dinner, why he was so touchy, he mumbled something about being nervous about the football meeting. He had told her that he had to attend a meeting of the football team on Thursday evening, and that some of the members of the team were going to be dropped. Karen believed his explanation for his nervousness, because she knew that staying on the team meant a lot to him.
After the dinner dishes had been washed, Jay put on his team sweater and headed for the door. Then, as though as an afterthought, he returned to the kitchen and kissed Karen briefly on the lips. It felt strange to kiss his wife goodbye when he was on the way out of the house to fuck another woman. His knees were trembling at the thought of fucking Linda Wells right in her own house while her husband was out teaching evening classes.
When he arrived at the Wells' house, he drove on, and parked his motorcycle two and a half blocks away, as Linda had told him to do. He walked quickly back toward the house and knocked nervously on the door. Karen took her time about cleaning up the kitchen. She hated to be alone, but as long as she had something to do it wouldn't be so bad. Pagan wasn't very good company. All he wanted to do was sleep.
Karen washed the table carefully and then dried it. She finished drying the dishes and put them away. Then she decided to see what was on television. There was nothing on but an old movie. She watched it for about fifteen minutes and then turned off the set. It was a dull picture. About a young girl who falls in love with her tutor, an older, gray-haired man. Silly story.
Karen just stared at the blank TV screen as she sat on the couch daydreaming. She found herself thinking about Professor Wells. She giggled as she placed him and herself in the movie which she had just been watching. Actually it wasn't so ridiculous. He was rather handsome and distinguished. He had a certain polish and charm which made him a very interesting man.
Karen leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. She pictured her zoology professor as she had seen him at home, the other night; casual, relaxed. He was rather sexy. She shuddered momentarily at the word. She had found it creeping into her thoughts more and more lately. She had been thinking that maybe her upbringing had been wrong. She had been taught to be afraid of sex, even to be ashamed of it. Up until the other night, there had been nothing to change those beliefs. With Jay it had always been push a little, grab a little. Never, until the other night, had he tried to be tender or gentle with her. The results had been astounding. She had experienced sensations and feelings which she had never thought possible.
She felt herself breaking into a sweat as she thought about the episode the other night. Jay had kissed her all over her body, and he had put his tongue in places where he had never even touched her before. And she had held it – his… cock. It had felt so strong and hard. She found her pussy moistening at the thought of Jay's prick. She wondered if lots of women liked to hold and pet their husband's cocks. Did Mrs. Wells ever stroke the professor's cock that way. She wondered what the professor's prick looked like. Was it as strong and as thick as Jay's?
She tried to picture Professor Wells without any of his clothes on. The picture was exciting her strangely. At first she imagined him in a brief red bathing suit. He looked lean and handsome in a quite respectable way. When she tried to erase the bathing suit from the picture, she had a difficult time. At first there was nothing where the red cloth had been in her fantasy image. Then she began filling in curly black hair. She thought hard about what Jay's cock looked like and put it on Professor Wells' body.
She found herself sweating with a heat which seemed to be coming directly from the inside of her body. Her light cotton dress was sticking to her, and a moisture that seemed to be coming from her pussy was wetting her panties. She was a little frightened, and reached down with her hand to see what it was that was making her so wet. When her fingertips touched the damp crotchband of her panties, she jumped as though she had received an electric shock. The tender lips of her young twat were so sensitive, that even the light exploratory touch of her fingers set them ablaze with desire.
She quickly got up off the couch and headed for the bathroom. The trouble was that it was too hot in here. She needed a nice cool shower to cool her off and make her comfortable again. On the way to the bathroom, she unbuttoned the front of her dress. When she got to the bathroom, she saw her image in the full-length mirror inside. Her skin was flushed a rosy pink. She could see the front of her dress gaping open, revealing the pale-blue lacy material of her bra and her panties. She wore the kind that came up to her waist, finding the bikini type uncomfortable. Her bra was conservative, but pretty. The cups were large enough to contain her beautiful round boobies, but for some reason, her nipples had hardened, and were outlined against the blue lace. Thank goodness there was no one to see her in this condition. No one except Pagan who had followed her from the living room.
She decided to leave the bathroom door open so that it would be cooler when she stepped out of the shower. She just couldn't understand why she felt so hot and uncomfortable. She stepped quickly out of her dress, trying hard not to look at her reflection in the mirror. But no matter how hard she tried to stifle her instincts, Karen was a woman. She was drawn inexplicably to the full-length mirror.
The dampness at her crotch drew her attention to that area of her body. She looked at herself, feeling satisfied about the way her body tapered to a small waist and then flared out again at her hips. Through the pale-blue material of her panties she could see the dark shadow of her thick patch of flaming-red pubic hair. It formed a perfect triangle. The moist spot on the material formed a circle which started at the apex of the furry triangle.
Tentatively, she touched her finger to the wet spot. It felt a little sticky. She quickly rolled her panties down over her thighs. Stepping out of them quickly, she picked them up and held them in front of her eyes. She still couldn't understand why they were so damp. The wet spot covered the entire bottom part of her panties. She sniffed them hesitantly. There was something spicy and sweet about the fragrance. It smelled somehow familiar, although she couldn't place it. But at any rate, it didn't smell like there was anything wrong down there. She sniffed again. Strangely, she felt the nipples at the ends of her soft tits hardening, and even the soft fabric of her brassiere felt coarse and rough against the sensitive tissue of her hardening nips.
She reached behind her and unsnapped the clasp at the back of her bra strap. Her tits, which had been tightly imprisoned in the cups of the bra sprang forward, carrying the lacy bra away from her body. But because the cups were full, the bra stayed in place, covering her tits. She reached for the garment and whisked it away from her, exposing her tits to the cool air of the bathroom. Involuntarily, she let the bra drop from her hand then, without thinking about what she was doing, she cupped her massive tits, one in each hand.
They felt so soft and smooth in her hands. She could understand why Jay was always trying to get his hands on them. She stroked them softly and gently like Jay had done the other night. Her eyes were tightly closed. Then, with a start, she remembered what was happening and opened her eyes. The sight of her tits being stroked and petted by her own hands embarrassed her, but she couldn't take her eyes off the mirror.
Then, ashamed of her momentary loss of propriety, she turned quickly away from the mirror, dropping her hands to her sides. She stepped quickly into the shower, pulling the sliding glass door shut behind her. She turned the water on, full force, first turning the cold on all the way, and then adding only so much hot water as was necessary to keep the temperature bearable.
For a few moments she stood, allowing the water to rinse the perspiration from her body. Then she turned the hot water tap to make a mixture just a bit warmer. She reached for the soap and a soft washcloth which hung on a hook in the shower stall. Slowly, while the warm water caressed her skin, she soaped the washcloth, working up a thick rich lather. Then she began to wash herself, rubbing the washcloth gently over her neck and shoulders. She soaped her arms with a slow languid motion. Then she allowed the warm shower to rinse the soap off.
Then she moved the soapy washcloth toward her swelling tits. She began to soap the soft white globes, carefully avoiding the large pink nipples which were hardening again. She soaped first one tit, and then the other, moving the washcloth in a circular motion, with the nipple at the center of the circle. She moved the cloth closer to the nipple with each stroke, but still avoided touching it.
She moved the soapy cloth slowly up and down in the valley between her two soft tits, rubbing both boobs at the same time. Her nipples had become as hard as pebbles, and had begun to ache. Wanting to do nothing more than relieve the ache in her nipples, she began to swab the warm lathered washcloth around them one at a time. But instead of relieving the ache, as she had intended to do, she found that her action was increasing it. Tentatively, she took one nipple between her thumb and forefinger and rolled it back and forth. It felt good. Somehow, as she rolled and tweaked the big pink bud, she felt a tingling sensation in the lower part of her body. It seemed to be coming from the slit between her legs.
She continued to roll her nipple between her fingers, while, with the other hand she began rubbing the washcloth up and down the length of her cuntal slit. At first, she tried to devote herself only to washing herself thoroughly and efficiently. She brought the soapy cloth down the length of her slit and then back around under her to wash her asscrack. Then she brought it forward again to swab at her sensitive slit.
But as she brought the cloth up again, the lips of her cunt seemed to be opening up to receive it. She felt them spreading slowly apart, and worked the warm cloth between the lips to wash the hotly sensitive flesh of her inner cunt. It felt wonderful, and so she continued to work the soapy cloth up and down inside the slit. By now she had dropped her other hand from her nipples and was running it through the wet jungle of red hair which surrounded her cunt. She picked up the soap and began soaping the dense patch of fur. With the corner of the soap she nudged gently at her quivering little clit, which had hardened and was demanding attention.
Her eyes were tightly closed, and as she rubbed her pussy, she found herself returning her mind to her earlier vision of Henry Wells. She pictured him standing on a beach in the brief red bathing suit which she had imagined for him. Then, as she watched him in her imagination, he bent over and started to remove the suit. As he pulled it down, she saw his thick black pubic hair revealed a little at a time. Then there it was – his prick. Now her imagination altered it a bit. It was longer than Jay's and thinner. And it seemed to be covered with a thick coat of black hair.
As she watched, his cock began to harden, and its tip, pink and wet, began to extend from the furry sheath. She realized briefly that she was mixing Pagan's cock up with Professor Wells', but it didn't matter. She had rolled the washcloth into a tight little cylinder, and was trying to ram it up inside her pussy. She squatted slightly, pulling the lips of her pussy even further apart.
She began to grind her hips forward and back as she worked the rolled washcloth deeper into her slit. She could feel the lips parting to accept it, but still it wouldn't go all the way in. With her left hand she rubbed her pubic mound around in little circles. Then, using the fingers of her left hand, she parted the lips of her cunt even more, making room for the roll of soapy cloth to penetrate. She worked about an inch and a half of it into her pussy, twisting and turning it as she did so.
Then she began to push it in and out with her right hand, while with her left she began, once again, to stroke her big tits. She was lost in the sheer pleasure of the sensations she was giving herself. Gone was all thought about shame, or about right and wrong. She could think of nothing except finding new places to touch, new things to stroke. She continued to flash on the vision of a nude Professor Wells. Now, he held his swollen prick in his hand. He was jerking it up and down in the same rhythm that Karen was using to fuck herself with the washcloth.
She felt a tension building up inside of her. She was sure that she was about to experience that same orgasmic release which she had felt the other night when Jay had fucked her so tenderly. She wasn't sure if she wanted it to happen. She realized with a return of the shame that she had experienced earlier, that she was masturbating. She had always been taught to think of masturbation as "self-abuse", a sinful and disgusting practice. But this didn't seem disgusting in the least. Then she felt the first wave about to begin. With a moan, she pulled the cloth from her cunt.
"No!" she said aloud. She quickly rinsed the soap from her body and turned off the water. Even though she felt a kind of depressed frustration, she was glad that she had been able to stop herself before going through with her sinful act. She stepped from the shower and dried herself quickly with a thick towel, trying not to linger at the sensitive skin of her tits, or the still-tingling pleasure center at her crotch.
She gathered up her dress and her underwear from the floor where she had dropped them earlier, and padded, barefoot, into the bedroom. Pagan trotted alongside her. When she stretched out naked on her bed, Pagan lay on the floor at the foot of the bed. Karen still felt uncomfortably warm, so she didn't cover herself. For a moment she just lay still, staring at the ceiling, her mind a blank. Then she found her attention turning once more to her handsome and dignified zoology professor.
This time he appeared to her as he appeared in his classes each day. He was dressed in a suit and tie, with a brightly striped shirt. But in her fantasy, she was the only student in the class. The professor was writing on the blackboard, and then he suddenly turned to Karen. Grinning lewdly, he shrugged off his jacket. Karen's eyes were shut as she imagined him pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Then he unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop to the floor, stepping out of them. He stood in nothing more than a brief pair of red under shorts. Then he peeled these too from his body.
Karen tried to shake off the fantasy, knowing that it could not help but lead her to more self-abuse, but found that she couldn't. Instead of her controlling the fantasy, she found that it was controlling her. She tried to think of Jay, but found the mental image of her professor, standing totally nude before her, impossible to lose. His cock was stiff and hard and pointed straight at her. It looked strong and mighty. But, as before, there was something bestial about the vision in her daydream, her professor's prick was furry. A red tip showed from inside the black furred sheath. As she reached up, almost involuntarily to stroke her tits again, the red prick began to thrust forward, coming out of the sheath.
Karen felt her breathing becoming labored. She moaned softly, and one of her hands crept slowly across her silky-smooth skin, making its way toward her hairy cunt. She let her fingertips trail gently over the curly red hair covering the raised mound above the moistening slit. Her middle finger found the moist slash of her pussy, and began to swab up and down between the lips, picking up the thick moisture which was collecting there and spreading it around her crotch.
She spread her thighs wide, opening her cunt even wider, so that she could insert two fingers. She scissored them back and forth as they plunged in and out of her cunt, which was becoming wetter by the minute. Curious, she took her wet fingers out of her pussy and brought them to her nose. She sniffed tentatively at them. The sweet spicy smell had returned. Without even thinking, she held the fingers a little lower, bringing them near her mouth. She stuck out the tip of her tongue and licked gingerly at the glistening beads of moisture which her fingers had carried from her cunt.
The sweet pungent flavor of her cuntal secretions excited her even more. She squeezed the lids of her eyes even more tightly shut, as though trying to hide, even from herself, the shame which she felt. Her nipples ached with swollen desire as the mental image of a nude Professor Wells returned to her feverish mind. He was licking his lips lewdly as he held his bestial cock in his hand and jerked it up and down.
To ease the ache in her nipples, Karen stroked them gingerly with the tips of her wet fingers. Then she returned her fingers to her pussy and plunged them in and out again. She returned the wet fingers to her tits and rubbed the thick moisture of her cuntal secretions around and around the erect points of her nipples. The thick wetness felt soothing and good, and she returned her fingers for another supply of the ooze. As she plunged them in and out, she felt the sexual tingling which had begun, spreading throughout her young body.
Now, without even trying to block it, she was concentrating on her vision of Professor Wells jerking off. She drove her own fingers rhythmically in and out of her pussy as she, too, jerked herself off. It was almost as though her fantasy of the dignified and handsome professor masturbating had been conjured up to justify, in her own troubled mind, her desire to finger herself to pleasure.
As she fucked herself with her scissoring index and middle fingers, she moaned softly. Every now and then, she brought her fingers to her mouth and licked off the sweet-tasting secretions of her pussy. Or she rubbed it in gentle little circles around her nipples. Her moans were becoming louder and more rhythmic.
Pagan, who had been lying at the foot of the bed, looked up when he heard Karen's moans. He sniffed the air thoughtfully, trying to identify the familiar aroma which he detected. It reminded him of something he had smelled the other day, but he couldn't remember what it had been. Domestication had, perhaps, dulled his senses a bit. He rose and trotted over to the side of the bed to investigate. Karen, her eyes still tightly shut and still lost in a reverie of her masturbating professor, was unaware of Pagan's presence. Pagan sniffed his way toward Karen, trying to locate the source of the aroma. He sniffed at her tits, where she had been rubbing the juices from her pussy. There it was. Pagan sniffed closer, and then extended his tongue for a sample taste. It was just like the smell he had smelled the other day, right here in this same place. His long cock began to stiffen within its furry sheath.
Pagan began to lap with his rough pink tongue at the swollen buds of Karen's nipples, which by now had been thoroughly smeared with cunt-juice. At the first searing contact, Karen shuddered with pleasure, not opening her eyes for a second. In her reverie, it was Professor Wells who licked on her nipples. She rubbed her pussy more vehemently, while with her other hand she reached for the professor's furry cock.
As Pagan felt Karen's hand running along his belly in search of his cock, he moved in closer to the bed. He continued to lick first one nipple, then the other. Under his hot licking tongue, both nipples hardened even more, to hot little points of desire. He licked his way around them until each of her two big white swollen mounds of tit-flesh had been thoroughly soaked by the action of his tongue. Karen had somehow become a mindless sex-kitten, all consciousness lost to the ecstatic sensations which she was feeling for perhaps the first time in her life. Although some part of her knew that it was Pagan, the wolf, and not Wells, the man, who was with her, she managed to block it completely from the part of her mind which continued to function. As she ran her searching hand along the underside of Pagan's muscular belly in search of his cock, her mind focused only on a vision of her handsome professor, making tender love to her on the desk in the classroom.
The aroma was strongest just below the wiry patch of fur at her crotch. Pagan sniffed his way down to the hair-lined slit of her cunt. There it was. He stuck out his tongue and licked up and down the length of the glistening slit.
"Oh, yes," Karen moaned. "Oh, Professor!"
Pagan licked hungrily, pressing the broad flat surface of his rough pink tongue against the sensitive inner flesh of Karen's reddening cunt. She gripped his prick tightly in her fist and jerked it up and down with a jerky rhythmic motion. Both the girl and the wolf were panting uncontrollably, as both experienced unfamiliar sensations.
Karen placed her feet flat on the mattress, pointing her knees at the ceiling. She spread her knees apart, opening the hot wet lips of her pussy. Pagan, his cock swollen with sexual need, stiffened his tongue and began to plunge it straight into the tender young pussy which lay open before him. He moved his head forward and back, fucking the sweet cunt with his tongue, animalistically. No she-wolf could ever respond to him the way this tender young human woman was. Her fingertips on his cock were gentle and at the same time firm. She pulled him off with a relentless rhythm that bespoke the primitive origins of the human race. Like a wolf-bitch in heat she sobbed and moaned as his tongue skewered her tightly drawn cunt, parting the lips and spreading the deep red walls.
By now the sensations had possessed her completely. Her fantasy had so merged with reality that she was totally incapable of functioning on any level other than that of her sexual daydream. Professor Wells was fervently licking at her pussy while she stroked his naked cock up and down, bringing him ever closer to the explosive orgasm which must inevitably follow.
She wanted to feel his hot fluids pumping out onto her hand. She wanted to rub and spread it all over her skin, as she had with the warm fluids of her own pussy.
The incessant licking of her cunt was beginning to take its toll. Her body was rolling about on the bed as though she was possessed by a demon. She wrapped her thighs around the massive animal's head and pulled him even deeper into her cunt. Her hand jerked quickly, up and down, forward and back.
She felt an orgasm building inside her body. She knew that when the wave broke, it would shatter her like nothing ever had before. She humped her hips high into the air, pushing her cunt against the lapping mouth of the feverish timber wolf, smearing her secretions over his nose and mouth. His tongue probed deeper, with a kind of dumb intelligence. He licked as though he was trying to find the very core of her body.
Her hand on his cock was bringing him to the brink of an abyss which threatened to swallow him. He licked faster and more furiously. Now her thickly flowing juices had filled her pussy to overflowing. He lapped them into his mouth, swallowing noisily as he licked, but her flow was too much for even Pagan's slavering mouth. Streams of hot sweet cunt-juice oozed from the corners of her pussy and trickled down her legs, puddling on the mattress below her ass. She sobbed in uncontrolled ecstasy as the beast's rough tongue licked the outer surface of her cuntlips, and then her inner thighs, trying to get every drop of the precious fluid. Then, when he quickly returned his tongue to her mouth, she moaned a series of totally unintelligible sounds.
She could feel his cock swelling even more, and she tightened her grip and quickened her rhythm. Then it began. The thick red wolf-cock reared back like a bucking bronco trying to throw its rider. Then the first long hot spurt of thick white gism arced through the air and landed on Karen's smooth white thigh. She felt the hot splash of fluid, and jerked even harder on the animal's spurting prick. Each time she pulled forward on the throbbing organ, another hot spurt of joyjuice pumped out onto her smooth white skin. The feeling of his cock flexing each time she jerked on it was all it took to drive her over the brink.
Her own hot fluids began to gush from the mouth of her pussy, as though she had been storing them up for this monumental orgasm for her entire adult fife. As the spicy sweet gism flowed, wetting her cuntlips with her secretions, the wolf lapped even faster in an attempt to keep up with the flow of come. He whimpered as his cock pumped spurt after spurt of thick hot fluid, and she moaned as his tongue lapped up the sexual secretions of her body. Their bodies were as one, woman and beast united in search of pleasure, both acting more out of instinct than out of conscious decision.
But then, as the orgasmic paroxysms began to subside, Karen became increasingly aware of her surroundings. The waves of pleasure continued to pass over her body, but little by little her consciousness was returning. She was not on the desk in Professor Wells' classroom, and the handsome zoology professor had not been licking at her cunt. Instead she was lying naked on the bed in her own bedroom. She had been masturbating! And it was worse than that. Pagan! Oh, God, not Pagan! Oh, what had she done?
Her mind was spinning as she opened her eyes and saw Pagan panting beside her. His nose was wet and slimy from the secretions of her cunt, and she still held his glistening red prick in her hand. Her hands were covered with the sticky slime of his gism, and she realized that she had jerked the beast off while he licked her pussy. She knew that she should hate herself, but was surprised to find that she did not. She felt filthy and dirty, but at the same time, she felt a weird sense of fulfillment, as though the glory of her orgasm had, in some way, justified the horror of the act which she had just performed.
Karen moaned again, letting Pagan's shrinking cock slip from her fingers. If she could only get into the shower, she thought, she could wash away the traces of her bestial act, and then she could forget the whole thing. She hadn't been in her right mind. The things that Jay had done to her the other day had somehow changed her. She had become somehow more sexual. Her attitudes had changed. Tonight, all alone, she had abandoned herself to fantasy and self-gratification. The fact that Pagan had gotten into the act was really not her fault, and she couldn't blame herself for it. And it had felt so good, that she was sure it couldn't be all bad.
Karen got quickly out of bed and headed for the shower. She let the hot water run all over her for a while and then soaped herself quickly. She rinsed off the soap and got out of the shower. She felt strangely relieved and rested. The horror which she had felt at discovering that her sex partner had been Pagan had faded. Instead she felt the warm glow of sexual satisfaction. She couldn't wait for Jay to come home. Naturally she couldn't tell him about what had happened, but she would show him how changed she had become and maybe they would have another night like that night last week.
Just then the telephone rang. Hoping that it was Jay, calling to say that he was on the way home, she ran to the phone.
"Hello," she said sweetly into the mouthpiece.
"Hello, Karen, is that you?" It was a familiar masculine voice, but for the moment, she just couldn't place it.
"Yes," she said, "who's this?"
"It's Henry Wells," the voice said.
"Why hello, Professor," Karen said brightly. "How are you?"
"I'm fine Karen. But there's something I have to talk to you about. It's rather important, and I don't think I can discuss it on the phone. Is there any chance you could drop by at my house this evening? I won't take up too much of your time."
"Well, I don't know," Karen began. "Jay's at a football meeting, and I want to be here when he gets back."
"Oh, you'll be home before Jay, I promise you that," Professor Wells said. Something about the urgency of his tone made Karen feel that she should do as he asked.
"All right, Professor," she said. "If you think its that important, I'll come right over. Jay took his motorcycle, so fortunately I have the car. I guess I can be there within three-quarters of an hour."
"That will be fine," Henry Wells replied. "See you then."