Naughty Whippet

I was quite used to the sound of Buddy’s cleaning routine. Whippets are known to be hot water bottles, always sleeping entwined in people’s legs, and so being a light sleeper I was woken a lot of nights by the sounds of his “shower routine” when he’d licked and clean his short coat in our bed.

On this particular night, the sounds came more frantic and fast. He must have been really going for it, I thought, as I paid it no mind and tried to get back to sleep. But then I heard my husband moan, and realized he was the one getting a clean.

My husband had recently started a course of strong painkillers and sleeping pills for a lower back injury, which explained why he was sleeping through what was happening. As I turned and my eyes adjusted to the dark, I realized that his cock was poking out of his boxer shorts, and Buddy was slobbering over it with an enthusiastic rhythm most women would be hard pressed to match.

I was shocked. What should I do? Do I wake my husband? Do I laugh? Do I freak out? Do I pull Buddy off? Instead, I just sat there propped up on my elbow… And watched. My fixation went from my husband’s cock, to his face, back to his glistening doggy drool covered dick. I could see he was biting his lip even with his eyes firmly closed. Would he cum? Judging from the swelling of his dick, he was close.

I always loved the way his cock looked. It was thick, and veiny, with a massive head when he was really aroused. It seemed bigger than I’d ever seen it now. It always swelled like what seemed an extra inch before he came, but usually it was either in my mouth or pussy so I rarely got to see it happen. Now it looked like it was about to burst! Dark and full of hot blood. I wondered if it hurt. Even a foot away I could feel the heat it radiated.

Would he cum? I wanted him to cum. Buddy must have wanted it too, because he was licking like there was no tomorrow. Please cum.

I couldn’t believe how much watching turned me on. I desperately wanted to sink my fingers into my wet pussy, but I was too afraid that if I moved he’d wake. Or Buddy would stop.

Slurp slurp. Throb throb. Drool drool. The latter I was shocked to admit was my own pussy.

So I don’t know who was more disappointed, me or Buddy, when my husband rolled over. Buddy tried to nudge him with his long snout to get him to roll back, but it was no use.

I could sense everyone in the bed was disappointed, unable to communicate to one another exactly why. Buddy began licking his own dick, my husband began snoring, and I lay there staring at the ceiling. The butterflies in my stomach bounced off of one another as my pulse pounded in my chest and between my legs.

When the alarm went off I pretended to sleep. It took a couple of minutes for the sound to register with my medicated husband. I wondered if he’d remember or say anything.

“Morning baby,” he said with a groggy voice and glazed eyes.

“Good morning” I said, as I leaned in for a kiss. God I wanted to fuck him, but it would be out of character especially because of his back. Instead I hugged him and helped him out of bed. I wondered if he could smell how wet my pussy was. The panties I slept in were totally soaked. I’m pretty sure the bed was wet too. We made our way to the kitchen, the morning bulge in his boxer shorts bigger than usual. I wondered if he felt anything, was he as blue balled as I was frustrated? God, was I frustrated.

The rest of the day went normally other than my mind constantly going back to what I had seen. His big hard dick, slick in the moonlight, throbbing and pushing against Buddy’s tongue with every lick.

“God I’m horny,” he suddenly blurted out as we were getting ready for bed that night.