Page 40 of Puppy Madness

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I pull until I’m all the way out, feeling her pussy lips kiss my tip, and then grind back in slowly.

The moaning noises she makes are like music, no – sweeter than any music.

I’m captivated by them as I grind deeper, her core feeling a tiny bit looser now, but only a tiny bit. She’s still so tight I’m struggling not to erupt.

Her expression is a picture of pleasure, her mouth twisted to the side, her eyelids fluttering as we sink into a rhythm.

I shift up and down, pushing deep every time, addicted to the feeling of her pussy squeezing onto my base.

Her hips shift in time with me, making her breasts bounce gorgeously as her hands claw at the sheets. I move quickly but still warn myself not to let all my lust go.

I’d pound her pussy until the bed broke if I did that.

But I get faster, and she matches my pace, her hips moving in such a way I know the instinct is guiding her.

It’s the same way it guides me, both of us captive to it.

“Yes, yes,” she whimpers, reaching up and grabbing my shoulders with urgency.

The pressure tells me how badly she wants this.

I don’t know how long we’ve been going, but it feels like we could exist here forever, never having to think about anything else, all the reasons why this might not work, or the guilt we should be feeling.

It’s just her, my woman, us. Our future.

Her hands moved to her tits, and I gave a shuddering growl.

“You like that?” she moans.


I can’t even finish the sentence, speech impossible in the fury of the lust.

But my woman, my future wife, the future mother of my children….

She understands.

She pushes them together, making my balls swell even more as I struggle to maintain control.

Her pussy was made for me. There’s no doubt about it now, not when I feel her insides pulsing, the oncoming orgasm making it flutter.

I snarl possessively, rearing up even more so I can get a better look at her curvy breasts.

I feel the moment the orgasm grips her, the tightening around my shaft. My gaze moves lower as her pussy starts gushing sweet white cream down my length.

Nothing could make me look away. Nothing could make me stop staring at the beautiful sight of her body, gifting me with her pleasure.

“Mine,” I growl, pounding into her deeper, harder, feeling the end of my cock tingle with the withheld pleasure. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Only yours,” she gasps, just about managing to push the words out. “For… ev… er.”

I lean down, pressing my lips against hers, tasting her breath as she opens her mouth and moans loudly.

The end of my cock is on fire, the sensation burning as visions of the future flash in my mind.

My woman standing beneath the altar.

On top of me on our wedding night, riding as her gorgeous breasts bounce.

In our yard, surrounded by happiness and love and….

“Beg me to cum in your slit,” I snarl in her ear.

“Cum in me,” she cries. “Cum deep. Make me pregnant.”

“Argh,” I roar as seed rushes up my shaft, and it explodes into the only place it belongs.

Her pussy caresses me in the fluttering of her orgasm as though coaxing me to finish.

When I collapse atop her, she wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly. Her fingernails claw onto my skin with fresh urgency like she can’t even think about letting go. This union is the only thing that matters.

I lean forward a little, just enough to kiss her tenderly on the cheek.

She turns, looking into my eyes, as my cock wilts inside of her…it’s like we don’t want to be separate, even with my seed spilled.

“We have to, don’t we?” she murmurs.

It takes me a second to realize what she’s talking about.

Then it hits me, and I nod.

She means telling Elizabeth.

“Yes,” I say passionately. “We’ll tell the truth. We’ll explain this is the real deal. And we’ll hope like hell she understands.”



“What’s this about?” Lizzy asks, sitting on the other side of the dining room table.

Dominic and I sit together on the same side. It’s like we’re arranged in some sick kind of battle formation, like something terrible is about to happen…and maybe it is.

I’ve got Shelby in my arms, stroking him softly. But he must be able to sense the anxiety – scent it – because he keeps trying to climb up and lick my face as though to comfort me.

I hold him in place, fighting the urge to bury my face in his fur, so I don’t have to face any of this.

Beside me, Dominic leans forward. I resist the urge to turn and drink in the sight of him.

Yesterday was like a dream – the revelation that we feel the same, the hotel room, the closeness, the knowledge I can give my man what he wants and take what I want too.

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