Adults Only

Practical Women

Copyright 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved
Story Codes: F/Dog, Romance, Consensual

Note: This is intended to be a chapter one of several, but I cannot commit myself to anything much longer than this as I’m already stretched thin, so for right now, it will necessarily have to stand on its own. I just had the idea this morning and I wanted to get it down before I forgot what it was. -rr


Practical Women
By rache

“There she is.” My dad smiled and opened his arms, offering himself to me as soon as I’d stepped out of the car. I gave him a big hug and he kissed me on the forehead. “Christine…” He murmured, “…we missed you.”

“Oh, I was so worried. They said there was a lot of snow in the passes.” My mom was right there too and worrying was her job. “You should have taken an airplane.”

“Hi mom.” I hugged her tight and kissed her cheek. “It was okay, I got through alright.”

“Welcome, home dear.” Mom kissed me again, smiling and happy, as we all were. “Come on, let’s go inside. I fixed everything up.”

“She fixed everything up six years ago.” My dad chuckled. He was tall and a little overweight, but that was okay. He was sixty on the button and he deserved a little padding. It looked good on him. He worked for the Post-Intelligencer, one of the copy editors and I’d gotten my love of words from him.

“Oh.” Mom rolled her eyes a little. I’d gotten my looks from her and a lot of people, older friends and relatives said I could have been her sister thirty years ago. She was still a good looking woman, even at 56 and while her once lustrous black hair had now gone to gray, mom’s bright blue eyes were still clear and full of life. 

I was 24 and coming home for the first time in a long time, and for more than a few days. I’d been living and working in Chicago mostly, but I missed Seattle and with my new book commission I could afford to write wherever I wanted. That was one of the good things about being a little successful; it afforded me some freedom for a change.

“Let me get my stuff.” I said, turning back to my car.

“Oh leave it, come inside and relax for a little bit.” Mom told me. “You had a long drive and all by yourself too. What kind of car is that?” She frowned a little. “It doesn’t look very practical.”

“Uh, well…” I laughed self-consciously, “…it isn’t, mom. I have to get Brandon anyway.” I smiled. “I wasn’t really by myself.”

“Who’s Brandon?” My dad looked at me and then at my mom, and then they both looked at my little black Porsche.

“My boyfriend.” I said with a giggle, just teasing them a little.

I opened the passenger door a few seconds later and Brandon practically knocked me down as he got out. He hated sitting in the car by himself and he ran around the yard, just stretching his legs, while I reached behind the seats to grab my purse and my gym bag with my essentials in it. Everything else could wait.

“Oh my.” Mom said and she looked a little nervous as I walked back up the few short steps from the driveway. “He’s big.”

Brandon was still enjoying himself, getting familiar with the large front yard while my parents watched him. He was pretty good sized, I suppose, although I hardly noticed it really. He was a three year old Boxer and very handsome in my opinion, almost noble when he wasn’t fooling around. He weighed as much as I did, just a little over a hundred pounds, maybe even a little more than me, although he was somewhat shorter of course. Brandy was strong too, not a lot of fat, even though I spoiled him constantly, and his short hair black hair seemed to ripple over his powerful muscles as he moved. I stood there watching him with my parents, feeling very proud of him.

“When you said you had a dog, I didn’t know you meant a horse.” My dad shook his head.

“Does he bite?” Mom was going into full tilt worry mode.

“No, of course not.” I gave her a little look of annoyance that she didn’t notice. “Brandy, come here boy.” I called and he was immediately running over. “Sit.” I told him and he did, even though he didn’t want to. “Good boy.” I smiled and rubbed his neck.

“Well, uh, he’s trained anyway.” My dad offered mom, then he looked at me. “Right?”

“Oh yeah, Brandon’s really good. He’ll be fine, I promise.” I smiled at my parents, trying to reassure them.

They’d never been much for dogs, or animals of any sort really. I’d grown up living in the upper-middle class suburbs of Seattle and having a dog wasn’t a big deal, but my parents had never gotten one, no matter how much I’d cried when I was younger. So they might have been thinking this was my revenge, coming home after six years and bringing a rather large dog with me, but it wasn’t. Not at all. It was just the way things had worked out.

“Well, um, okay.” My mom finally smiled, weakly, and tried to make the best of it. “Let’s go inside, it’s getting chilly.”

Brandon followed me, naturally, and I expected my parents to say something when I let him come in the house, but they didn’t. They just gave me some funny looks, like I should have known better.

“He’ll be fine.” I said. “He won’t get on the furniture or anything, I promise. He can sleep in my room; you won’t even know he’s around, seriously. He’s a good dog.” I’d actually worked out a little speech for that situation, knowing it was going to come up, but I’d forgotten most of it. I was relying more on my parents’ happiness to have their only child home again, than any argument I might make to let me keep my dog. But I did feel like I was 13 again, coming home with a stray.

We had some coffee in the kitchen, a little bit of pumpkin pie with whipped cream, because I did love that stuff a lot. Thanksgiving had always been my favorite holiday just because I could eat as much pumpkin pie as I wanted. Now I had to watch what I was eating though, so I ate my piece slowly, knowing I couldn’t have seconds.

“You’re so thin! Isn’t Chrissie thin Robert?” Mom was frowning.

“Oh, not so bad.” Dad smiled at me, knowing mom would have said I was thin if I’d come home weighing 200 pounds and dressed in a purple muumuu.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” Mom asked, glancing at Brandon who was sitting next to me with his big square head in my lap. “A real one?”

“Ummm…” I sighed. “No, not a real one.” I shrugged. That was always a sticky point. 

Mom and dad had married sort of late, in their thirties and I think mom always regretted that a little, like she missed some years she might have spent with her husband if they’d married sooner. But of course she hadn’t even known dad when she was in her twenties and there was an abstract argument there, about waiting for the right man at the right time, but mom never really listened anyway. She was always the practical woman, except when it came to me and my love life. 

“Don’t you worry about it.” Dad shrugged, as if I were the one worrying. “There’s plenty of time for that.”

I think dad might have been a little worried that I was a lesbian or something, although he’d never say anything of course. But the fact was that I’d never had a boyfriend, even in high school. I’d had boy friends, but never the real deal, and that was suspicious, especially for an attractive, intelligent girl like me.

I’d had offers, to be sure, and sometimes I was even tempted, but the few dates I’d gone on hadn’t done a whole lot for me. They may have been fun, occasionally, but usually I ended up wishing I’d done something a little more constructive that evening, like homework, or painted my toenails maybe. I’d gone out with a girl too, just once, just in case I was a lesbian because I seriously didn’t know, and it had felt about the same as going out with a man. So, I had no real answers for my parents, one way or the other, even if they’d known what to ask.

“Yeah, I’m sure Prince Charming is out there someplace.” I smiled and fed a little pie to Brandy with my fork, letting him lick it clean for a second before I used it to cut another small bite for myself.

“Uh, dear…” Mom pursed her lips.

“Oh.” I laughed a little, even though my mouth was full of pie. I swallowed quickly. “Its okay mom, he’s had his shots and everything.” I hadn’t really thought about it, Brandon and I shared the same forks and spoons all the time, but I reminded myself that my parents weren’t quite so fond of him as I was, at least not yet.

I hadn’t been around for much more than a couple holidays here and there since I’d left for college when I was eighteen. So we had a lot of catching up to do. I’d called often enough, and my dad was one of the last of the great letter writers, but it wasn’t the same as sitting face to face. I told them about Harvard, but that was really old news and they’d come out for my graduation anyway, spending a weekend in Cambridge. It was a good place to start though, especially since dad was very proud of me for that.

Inevitably the conversation came around to my book, which I’d expected a little sooner actually, but was happy to put off as long as I could.

“I read your book, dear.” Mom was nodding, which was so completely at odds with her opinion that it was perfect. “I didn’t understand it.”

“Sex and the Practical Woman?” Dad chimed in. “What does that mean?”

I narrowed my eyes at dad, expecting a little better from him at least. I’d written a novel, my first, and it was about a girl coming of age, falling in and out of love while she attends college. It wasn’t autobiographical or anything, it was just a book and the title…

“It’s a contradiction, dad. Sex is rarely practical and the story is about how we have to grow and evolve and adjust to the persons we become. Did you read it?” I asked him.

“I read it.” He nodded. “It was good, you have real talent, I just…” he sort of gestured helplessly and I smiled.

“Well, you’re not exactly my target audience, dad.” I reached over and patted his hand.

“I thought it was pornographic.” Mom said, never one to mince words on a subject like that, but it did hurt a little.

“There’s no sex in it, mom.” I said. “Just…the reasons for it. I tried to describe why this girl was having sex, when she was looking for love and…”

“She was playing with herself.” Mom said and I seriously doubted the woman had ever masturbated in her life, which wasn’t a thought I wanted very much.

I wasn’t getting through to my mom at all. Any book which had a whole chapter devoted to a 19 year old masturbating in a bathtub while remembering her very first kiss had to be pornographic, no matter how beautifully written it was.

“Girls do that, mom.” I sighed. “Oprah liked it.” But mom wasn’t a big Oprah Winfrey fan either.

“What’s your next book going to be?” Dad asked, trying to change the subject without really changing it very much at all.

“Well, my publisher wants me to do a follow-up, you know, stick with what works, but I’m kind of undecided.” I shrugged. “I’d kind of like to do something a little more personal maybe.”

My first book had been extremely personal, but not for any obvious reasons. I couldn’t tell mom that though or she would have assumed the worst, that I wasn’t her perfect little virgin anymore. I’d spent a lot of time on the phone when my book first came out, trying to convince her that the character in my book wasn’t me, at least in so far as having sex was concerned. Mom wanted to believe that, which helped quite a bit. I hoped that saying I wanted to get more personal would reinforce the idea a little more.

“So…” Dad looked at me.

“So, I don’t know.” I smiled. “That’s why I’m here. I want to sleep in my old bed, look at my old stuff, and just think for a little bit, you know?”

“Well, it’s all up there.” Mom said, relaxing just a little maybe and reminding herself that at least I was home to stay for awhile. “Why don’t you lie down a little bit, your father can get the rest of your bags.”

I nodded and went upstairs feeling more than a little relived that my homecoming had gone as well as it had. Between my book and my dog there was plenty of room for the same old problems. Mom had waited a long time for a daughter and she’d spent most of my life trying to perfect me, it wasn’t like she was going to stop just because I was 24 now. I hoped that I’d asserted myself enough to show her I wasn’t a little girl anymore, but I doubted it. She was just taking it easy until I was really settled in, dropping hints like seeds and she’d reap the harvest when the time was ripe.

I rolled my eyes at myself, undressing in my old bedroom. I was being a little over dramatic, I was sure. I was just nervous, that’s all. I stretched, still feeling a little tense from too many hours on the road. The Porsche was a nice car, I loved it and I’d spent most of my first royalties check buying it, but for 3 eight hour days in a row, it was just too darned small.

“Hey!” I grinned at Brandy who was licking my right hip, looking for attention. His long rough tongue tickled and I pushed him away playfully. I’d named him Brandon because he looked a little like Brendan Frazier, whom I’d always found incredibly attractive, but I’d taken to calling him Brandy, so his name changed just slightly, and that was okay. If I ever had a female I’d name her Brenda, maybe.

There was a soft knock and I grabbed my old bathrobe, hanging on the little brass hook on the back of the door, as if I’d left it there yesterday. It smelled clean and fresh and I imagined my mom had washed everything when she’d heard I was coming home, probably two or three times. It still fit me pretty good too, but I’d stopped growing when I was about 17 anyway.

“What have you got in here? Rocks?” Dad smiled at me, hefting my suitcase in one hand and my laptop case in the other. The computer was what he was talking about, the thing weighed a ton.

“Just books, dad.” I laughed and moved out of the way so he could bring my stuff inside. “Thanks.”

“No problem, I needed the exercise.” He looked around. “Everything okay in here?”

“Yep.” I nodded, looking around too. “Just perfect.”

“Good.” He gave me a hug. “Don’t worry about your mom.”

“Oh, I’m not.” I patted him on the back. “We’ll be fine.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath and let me go. “I thought your book was really good.”

“Did you?” I smiled and he gave me a sincere look, nodding his head.

“Go ahead and get settled, we’ll go out to eat tonight, okay?”

“Sure dad, I’m gonna take a shower and lie down a little bit, I think.” I followed him to the door, closing it behind him and then waiting for a good 10 seconds before I locked it. My shower could wait, I needed to relax first, and so did Brandy.

My room wasn’t overly large, but it was good sized. One of the perks of being an only child maybe. I had plenty of room, even with my big canopy bed, draped with pink satin curtains and tied with burgundy bows. I had a large dresser with a big mirror, a small vanity, desk and bookcase, all from the Ethan Allen Collection. Timeless and ridiculously heavy furniture that tended to sit where it was planted for years at a time. But it was very comfortable and nice to look at too.

Everything in the room, from the chintz wallpaper to the matted and framed pictures of horses and seascapes on the wall, screamed repressed youth. I’d grown up in a museum, I thought, or on the set of a 1950’s sitcom, like Father Knows Best or something. It was vaguely depressing and I remembered putting up a poster of the Smashing Pumpkins once when I was 16 and my mom throwing a small fit over it. The cover of Siamese Dream was not something that belonged on her daughter’s bedroom wall.

I smiled to myself, looking around and deciding that I’d have to go to the mall soon and find that exact same poster. It wouldn’t come down this time, I giggled softly, this had been the room I’d slept in for some 18 years, but now that I was home I was finally going to make it mine. Just a little.

“Okay, boy.” I smiled at Brandon who was sticking his nose under the hem of my terry cloth robe, licking at my skin and working his way up my thigh. “Let’s play.” I said softly and he knew what that meant and answered me with a sharp bark. “Quietly!” I chided him, getting on my bed and fluffing the pillows a little. “Okay, come on…” I patted the thick comforter with it’s cream colored lilies on baby blue water.

Brandy jumped up, the bed bouncing but quiet as ever. Old Ethan knew how to build a bed and it had hardly squeaked at all when I was a child, no matter how hard I’d jumped on it. I’d always appreciated that and now more than ever.

“Come her, big boy…Mmmm…” I’d undone my robe, but left it on while Brandy straddled my body. He was used to the things I liked, which were varied, but this was a favorite. I pulled him down on top of me, so his soft warm chest was against my stomach and his neck began rising just between my soft round breasts, only slightly flattened as I lay there. His paws were on either side of my ribs, and his back end between my wide spread legs.

“There we go, good boy…” I stroked his back with one hand and brought the other up his powerful neck, pulling his head down to me. “Kiss me, Brandon…” I breathed and then sighed as his tongue reached out to find my face. I opened my mouth, sticking out my own tongue, playing with his and inviting him to kiss me the way I liked.

It wasn’t long before Brandon’s tongue was inside my mouth, his big long snout against my cheeks and lips as we kissed. I sucked his tongue, which annoyed him a little and he’d pull it back, but then a second later it would return. It was a fun game and I warmed up immediately, my body flushing beneath him. I moved my hands up and down his back and shoulders and neck, gripping and releasing him. I loved the feel of his rough tongue in my mouth, the way it just seemed to fill me completely, and I was swallowing around it as my mouth filled with our saliva.

I could sense more than feel my sex growing hot and moist. Brandy’s soft stomach was against my vulva as I lifted myself against him, just a little, tilting my hips to feel his soft fur across my clit. I was coming alive down there, waking up quickly to a warm fire and it was nice. I moved my legs, stroking Brandon’s flanks with my thighs, back and forth and that helped too, moving my hips naturally so that my sex was soon tingling with excitement.

We could have done many things, Brandon and I, and enjoyed them all, but I wanted him inside me. I hadn’t made love to him in nearly a week and I’d been missing it. But mostly I wanted to do something I’d never even dreamt of, or at least never seriously considered possible…I wanted to make love to my boyfriend in my own bedroom, in my own bed. With my parents blissfully unaware downstairs, that was even better. It was the thought that had been driving me halfway across the country, that more than any other. Making love with my dog, my one true love, in the one best place in the whole world.

“Up baby, come on…” I was whispering to him, coaxing Brandy to move. He knew how to do it, I’d had him since he was 4 months old and I’d taught him deliberately well.

Brandon moved forward, not quite rising to his feet, but more shuffling awkwardly up my body until my chin was pressed to the soft hair of his chest. His penis was against my vagina, still sheathed, but not for long as he heard my whispered urgings and felt the humidity radiating from my hungry sex. He could smell me as well and he knew what I wanted; I didn’t have to do a thing but hold him and kiss his fur, waiting for it.

The tip emerged and I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it and I knew exactly how it would look. Pink at first, growing darker and reddish as it pushed outward. The tip tapered slightly, almost flat, but angled for penetration. He was wet and precum fell across my sex as I adjusted my hips, grunting slightly beneath the animal’s weight, making sure the tip of his penis found the soft folds of my pussy. It was like magic this way and all I had to do was make sure we were lined up. As soon as Brandy’s cock had slipped a few inches from it’s sheath the tip was pressing between my labia, and as soon as he felt that Brandy’s cock grew quickly, expanding inside me until he had no choice but to push.

“Ummm….” I sighed as Brandon gave a little thrust with his hips. He didn’t really have the best position for mating with me, not enough leverage because I was holding him close, but it was enough. He worked his cock inside me quickly, stretching my pussy around the odd shape of his cock. It was thickest in the middle, like a long over stuffed sausage, and narrowing at the ends. He was big too, very big, and while I’d never had a man this way, I was reasonably sure Brandy was as large as most men, perhaps even larger.

I was the one doing most of the work, lifting my hips to working Brandy’s cock inside me, not so much in and out, as just back and forth a few inches at a time. He was completely inside me and content that way, although once in awhile he’d whine softly, or move as if to get up. But I held him and whispered to him, stroked his body and worked my hot sex around his cock. We could do this for a long time, as long as an hour, although I was usually exhausted long before then. Once I found the right angle, the right rhythm, I would start cumming and then I usually didn’t stop cumming until I had no choice. It was nonstop for me once my orgasms started, one rolling right into the next.

“Mmmm…” I was biting my lip and arching my back, tilting my head as I felt the first waves of pleasure building inside me. This wasn’t taking long at all and I almost wished I wasn’t cumming so quickly, just so I could enjoy the buildup a little more. “Ohhh…good…ummm yeah…” I held Brandy tight, breathing through my open mouth and then swallowing hard, gasping softly as his thick hard cock worked itself against the walls of my pussy. I could feel my muscles contracting around him, my body seeming to tighten briefly and then relax with little spasms of pleasure.

“Okay baby…ohhh kay…” I’d had a cum, a nice little one and I was seconds away from another. Brandy wanted to fuck me, I knew. He was restless and complaining with soft growls deep in his throat. I didn’t really want to move, but he deserved it. He’d been stuck in that little car too and he’d been so patient for me.

I pushed him off, feeling his long cock slide out of my sex and leaving me aching and empty inside. There was a wash of wetness as well, making a large dark wet spot on my comforter, but I was used to such things. I moved so I was laying on the bed with my pussy even with the side of the mattress, my legs spread with my heels perched on the edge.

“Come on, up Brandy…come here…” I breathed and that was all it took. Brandon was aroused and eager and he knew exactly what we were doing. He jumped up with his front paws on the bed, straddling my body, and brought his cock to my waiting sex. It was almost perfect for him like that, and more than perfect for me as I reached down to find his jabbing penis and guide it to my slippery hole. He was hot and heavy and wet, his cock so large in my hand that my fingers wouldn’t go all the way around him. It always amazed me how something so large could fit inside me so well, but it did.

As soon as Brandy felt my pussy accepting the tip of his cock he started pushing, wasting no time or effort on being gentle. He fucked me hard right from the start, slamming his cock into the deepest part of my vagina and giving me a sudden jolt of discomfort as my pussy was split. But I didn’t mind it at all, I just bit my lips and held his neck, urging him on. I hooked my legs around him as well, riding his back as Brandy started pumping my pussy fast. He was panting above me, his mouth open and long pink tongue hanging out, dripping saliva onto my face.

I was cumming wildly within a few moments of the animal’s entry, whimpering and fighting to stay quiet as my orgasm brought my body to desperate life. I was pulling at the dog, trying to lift my hips to meet his thrusts, and using my hands and legs to pull him even deeper. The tip of his cock was right there at the very entrance to my womb, touching the bottom of my sex occasionally and sending small lightning bolts of almost painful pleasure through my body.

And the knot was coming, I reminded myself dimly, it was there, pressing against my sex, trying to get in. I pulled Brandy hard, begging him to do it, to fuck me harder and get that large ball of muscle inside me before it got really big. That was always the challenge, getting the knot inside me because if he didn’t penetrate me enough, if we waited too long, it would swell up to something the size of grapefruit, maybe even bigger than that, and it was just impossible to get it inside. It was still good, and maybe even easier on me in some ways, but it just didn’t give me that same sense of satisfaction I got when we were well and truly locked up.

As it was he was already big enough so that it was uncomfortable when he did get it inside me. Like a hard cramp punctuated with a little kick in the pussy, Brandon’s knot suddenly seemed to squeeze for a brief second, bringing a sharp whine from the dog, and then popped inside me. I sucked a deep breath at the sensation and clutched Brandy even tighter as I started cumming yet again. This time it was really good as the knot was expanding quickly, gaining full size and stretching my pussy in every direction, like someone was inflating a hot balloon inside my sex. I always loved that feeling.

Brandy liked it too, I think, as it always seemed to drive my lover into a fresh and passionate frenzy. He was jerking his hips quickly, giving me short but incredibly powerful thrusts that rocked my body beneath him. He could move only a fraction inside my tight pussy, the knot effectively lodged into place by its size and shape and the pressure of my own muscles around it. But that was enough for him, and enough for me as his cock began shooting his hot dog sperm deep into my womb. His tapered cockhead was nudged right up to my cervix, that curious bottleneck that was so sensitive to every small sensation. When Brandy’s cum sprayed against it I couldn’t help but give a small cry of pleasure.

I came long and hard, blinded to everything and just clutching Brandon to my heaving body as his balls emptied themselves into his bitch. This was ever the best part, or so it would seem at the time. But truthfully every part of making love with Brandon was the best part for me. From the moment he first entered me, until we just held each other, breathless and hot and waiting for his knot to shrink. I loved it all.

“Kiss me, baby…” I was whispering, inviting Brandy to tongue my open mouth while we were locked together. It would be 10 minutes at least, sometimes as long as 20 or 30 before his swollen muscle would begin to diminish. But until then it would hold me tight, keeping my pussy closed and his puppy making sperm inside me.

We kissed leisurely, almost playfully as my mind was always carefree and happy, like I was on some sort of strange drug that only made me feel like a little girl living in Disneyland. I was almost ecstatic, pumped up on adrenaline and endorphins, and coming down nice and slow from the wild peaks of pleasure. I was in love with my dog, completely and irrevocably, and I couldn’t imagine having anyone else for a lover. It was strange, perhaps, and probably disappointing to my mother especially, but I knew I’d have to tell her soon. I wouldn’t be able to hide my feelings for long, not while I was living there in my parents’ house.

I just needed to find an explanation that would make it seem…practical. 

end
rache696@yahoo.com

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