Story Details

He Was a Dirty Dog--and So Was I

Rodger-the-Dodger on Animal Stories

I liked to wash my feet on the weekends.  Heating the water, pouring it into the pan, adding soap, sitting on the bottom step.  One foot on a towel and the other in the pan...the warmth of the water ran up my calf and thigh.  I had to smooth my hands along my thigh and calf and down into the water, washing my feet and between the toes.  Something I looked forward to on the weekends, especially when Mum and the others went shopping.  I could take all the time I wanted and dream a little.

On just such a morning, in my housecoat, no knickers of course, and I felt alone and free.  Exhilarated.  Goosebumps on my flesh as it was cool in the house, except for the water.  And as always Buster sat watching me, the water in the bowl and my hands along my legs.  Waiting for his doggie treat--some left over scrap from lunch--which I always had handy.  He was eager and curious as to what he would get.  Little did he realize this day's morsel...little did I.

I was just a little girl.  Not that little.  I had learned some of the joys of the body but always when alone in bed, in the morning or at night...Before my discoveries I was never anxious when it was time for bed.  My attitude had changed.  It was something I now enjoyed, those waking moments before sleep or after just awakening, and I could explore myself, in private, feeling my privates.  My growing breasts--better than any other girl in my classes--my smooth skin and thighs and really smooth in between.  It made me feel excited and alive and relaxed.  I never felt as good as that.

I washed between my toes and the soles of my foot and it tickled me all over.  I must have shuddred because my puppy moved closer to my foot and sniffed at the bowl.  I patted his head.  He was ready for his treat but I continued washing, drying my hands, adjusting my housecoat so that it draped my waist and left my knees open.  I didn't want to get my clothing wet.  Buster licked my ankle, getting a taste of the soapy water.  His tongue was warm, like the water.  He looked up, wanting his treat.  It wouldn't be long now.  His mouth stayed open, his tongue moving in and out, a little spittle dripping from the corners of his mouth. He licked me again.

When I laid in bed I would let my mind wander to things that were soft and warm, like my little breasts,  gentle breezes at the beach where I would picnic with my family, soft grasses bending in the wind, waves ever-spashing on the shore and I would dip my fingers in a rhythm between my folds, thinking in the quiet of my room of the dirty words that my girlfriends and I giggled about as we said them:  "cunt" "fucking" "cock" and I kept up the dipping, dipping until I got breathless and my skin had goose bumps.

Buster licked me again and my thighs had goosebumps. My face was warm and I looked at him, pushing his mouth away.  He sat back and came at me again, licking my ankle.  I felt funny in my "cunt."  With a dog!  I was embarrased and red in the face.  This was stupid.  But it felt good.  I felt my goose bumped flesh and rested back on my elbows, feeling him lick, closing my eyes.  I noticed how quiet it was in the room and remembered our front door was locked.  There wasn't a sound except for the breathing of Buster and his slobbering when he licked.  He must have liked the salty taste of my skin and as he licked one spot clean he went to another, inching up my leg.

I should stop him and would, in a little bit.  It felt good, his moist warm tongue.  I was dreamy and dizzy.  I took a deep breath.  No one would know.  I was being dirty and I knew it but it felt too good to stop Buster.  I didn't want to get up, I hadn't even washed my feet.  Buster moved just then.  He must have smelled me, sensed there was a better place to lick.  His nose was cold and shocking.  I decided to get up and stop all this.  Just then his nose was replaced by his licking warm tongue.  He had found my spot so instantly.  I was amazed.  It was cold and warm.  Right on my secret spot.  I never felt like that before and then he did it again.  What a bad dog.  A really dirty dog and he would be punished but the damn dog licked me again, right on my cunt spot.  I couldn't help my legs opening.  I couldn't held cradling his dirty head.  I couldn't stop focusing his mouth on my spot, wet with his spittle.

I jumped at my waist, opening my little lips to his tongue which urgently dipped along my lips lifting my spot.  I was breathing hard now and deeply and spreading my lips, helping his dirty tongue lick my dirty little body all over.  "Please don't stop" I thought.  "Please.  This is so good and so wrong," and my hips spasmed as my feelings built. I felt myself at the beach as waves pulsed inside me.  I rested my head back on the step and released to the petting of my body by this naughty creature.  He licked me clean, slowly and finally stopped.

My breathing returned.  I realized I hadn't finished washing.  I felt clean already.  Couldn't wait for next week and my thorough cleansing, even if it was "dirty."



I thought the voice in your story projected innocence. I liked the paragraph about you letting your mind go to warm places as you rub the folds... That was the best part of the story. I would have liked you to develop the theme of "Buster ready for a t


But this seriously sucked. No plot, no realism. Why do so many of these animal stories contain outdoor nudity?

I dimly see potential in your writing, so please write something more substantial and thought-out.

Submit a Comment

Log in to comment or register here