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Why the hell hadn’t I done this before? And to think ofwhat I’d been missing all these years! One thing wasfor sure ‘ this was my first doggy-fuck ‘ but itcertainly wasn’t going to be my last! The feelings Iwas experiencing as I knelt there wearing nothing butmy sexy undies with this dog firmly knotted inside me,made the slight initial discomfort all worthwhile! Andthe ‘icing on the cake’ was, that to my utter surprise‘ even though I still hadn’t touched my cock, I wasstarting to orgasm again.As my second orgasm raced through my body, and my loadspurted onto the grass beneath me something caught myeye in the darkness near the path. I looked on withincreasing horror as the shape of a guy walked out ofthe darkness towards me.“Oh, I see you’ve found a new friend, Saxon?” he saidto the dog.There was absolutely nothing I could do or say toexplain the embarrassing situation I was in, so Isimply knelt there and waited. ? I didn't know how much more sexual energy I had left in me so I hurriedlypushed her along the hallway and up the stairs, her bedroom wasn't hard tofind and I followed her in. On a clothes-hangar on the wardrobe was her Traffic-Wardensuniform. ?My God, you're a Traffic Warden.? I cried out with mock astonishment. ?Oh,God I love fucking a woman in uniform, put it on.? At first she just shook her head, and stared sullenly at the ground, but afew swift slaps across her face persuaded her to comply, and so reluctantlyshe took her uniform from it's hangar and began to dress for me. She slid intoher skirt, and then, with shaking hands buttoned up her thin blouse. She turnedto face me, fearing the worst. She was right to. The sight of her in her crisp uniform, breasts clearly outlined under herwhite blouse, the black of the skirt contrasting with her bare legs beneath,all set off by her gagged mouth did the usual stuff to my pussy. I walked behindher and cupped her breasts in my hands, I.
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‘Turn left here.’ ‘Why?’ Her hand came over to rest on my knee. ‘Because my house is on the next block. I think I can find some change there.’ I followed her directions and pulled up at a tiny bungalow, the kind that starlets rent at the Beverly Hills Hotel on their first paycheck, except that this was all the house there was. It looked like a kitchen and a bedroom, if you liked sleeping on the stove. I’d been in cars that were bigger. She pushed the switch and a small table lamp came on. It was draped with a scarf in a rose pattern, which gave the tiny room a soft pinkish glow. The outline of a Murphy bed took up one wall, and the screen across the corner draped with clothes told me I was right about the house. I was standing in the living/changing/dining/bedroom, and the door I could see in the kitchen had to be the bathroom. The house was claustrophobic, but it smelled like her perfume, sweet and springlike, so I didn’t mind. Valerie glided right behind the screen without a.

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