She was short, maybe 5’4, with a tiny waist and…okay I looked, firm, well rounded breasts. She held a notebook that looked like it had been totall...y soaked in water at some point. And, as I was soon to find out, she was direct. “You are so sad, I can’t help but talk to you.” Her look of distress was so sincere the tears just escaped more quickly from my eyes. I was about to throw out some stupid excuse, use the “allergies this time of year” bullshit line or some other nonsense, but something in. She loved shopping and lunching with the other Dogs, and she loved the public walks with them through private woods or on the farm. She adapted to sniffing and licking Dogs and dogs in greeting, treasured the occasional matings out of sight of their owners and adored the spectacle of the shows and events.The shows were a particular highlight. Sammie won second in group at her first show and an honourable mention in the final, Bianca worked on her grooming skills and became quite keen on showing. ...(now she started to lightly rub my neck) I always thought I might like to fuck a guy." Again, I turned and looked her in the eye. "So try that out on what's his name." "Naah" she said dreamily, (and started to knead my shoulders with both hands this time, using her thumbs to knead my neck.) "Boy that feels good" I sighed. "Really?" she asked in a little girl's voice. "Would it?" she cooed, "Do you like it?"She had me, hook line and sinker........My hands stopped her wrists and held them. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. And you know what I'd do if I were you, haw haw."The slamming of little metal doors. The engine roaring to life. And then the sound. The sound I haven't mentioned before because no one would believe it. I don't believe. I hear it every time and still I don't believe it. It is, I suppose, a direct expression of their eagerness to go. Their git-go. Go anywhere. They squeal their tires. That's the sound. But I don't know how. There are no clutches to pop. There's.
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