One Dog Doesn’t Make Me A Bitch

I was drunk, OK? Half a beer doesn’t sound like much, but it was the strong kind with an artsy label. And I’m really short, so I don’t weigh that much. And all I had for dinner was a slice of pizza.

It was a mega sleepover party with like 50 people. Girls in skimpy babydolls, boys in boxers, everyone was horny and maybe that was rubbing off on me as the evening crescendoed. Someone dared Trisha to deepthroat the neck of her bottle and no one harassed her about being sexually attracted to beer. Anyway, it was just one dog (at first) but since then, I overhear nicknames like ‘bitch in heat’ and ‘doggie back door’ I can’t have a conversation without someone asking if I’ll be having another dog show at the next party. I don’t know! It’s not the kind of thing you plan.

I had a light orange onesie with peaches printed on it, my least sexy nightwear until tried it on at the party and remembered how long it had been since I last wore it. Tight in all the wrong places. But, unless I wanted everyone to think of me as ‘that girl who wears jeans at a sleepover’ (I hadn’t publically sucked a dog’s dick at that point so little social blunders still mattered to me), I had to expose the shape of my butt and breasts in a dimly lit basement. Beer helped me deal with the irrational embarrassment of flaunting a curvy body and, soon enough, I was bouncing my tits and ass on the dance floor, more intoxicated by the cheers and stares than the alcohol itself.

My favorite song was playing when I first saw him. Or maybe it became my favorite song the moment I stared into his bright sky-blue eyes. Someone had left the basement door ajar and he snuck right into the party. Tall, husky, handsome, black and white like a big, sexy Oreo, he could have had any girl at the party but chose to plant his nose into my crotch for a sniff. I kneeled to pet him and the licking started. Heaven can’t be as divine as a dog’s tongue exploring your face.

“Get a room, you two,” I remember hearing someone say. So I jokingly started kissing back, embracing the tongue whenever it licked my lips, even encouraging it to find the inside of my mouth. Things evolved into full-on french kissing within seconds and if I still thought I was doing it for laughs, I was only kidding myself. I was horny. Inexplicably horny. Hornier by far than ever in my life. This Husky wanted me like the mother of his pups and I was already imagining our entire life together (in this fantasy I developed a serum that let dogs live as long as humans).

My hands were all over his thick soft belly coat like a marshmallow snow cloud, trying to feel as much of him as possible before he lost interest in me. What if he only liked my mouth for the aftertaste of pizza? My heart sank, but I found hope in the palm of my hand when my fingers blindly wrapped against something big, slick, and spongy.