Straight Female / 26
This all happened ten years ago when I was sweet, sixteen. Well, probably not so very sweet when you've read this.
My Mum and Dad where going to a wedding that involved an overnight stay. Mum insisted that I go with them because she didn't like leaving me alone. But, I dug my heels in and pretty soon a row developed. It was only when Dad, good old Dad, persuaded her that I was old enough to look after myself that she gave in. Anyway, I wasn't actually alone because I had, Lady, Mum's six month old Labrador puppy, for company.
I'd bought a whole collection of girly magazines, Dad had given me a box of my favourite chocolates. I'd had my shower, wrapped myself in my dressing gown and planned to curl up in bed partly because, for all my bravado, I was still a little bit frightened of being on my own. Everything was so quiet. Anyway, I forgot about the adorable, but totally bonkers, Lady.
Back then I had a thing for honey, buttered, toast. Mum always used to say it would make me fat. It never has. So I made myself two 'doorsteps' oozing butter and dripping with honey. I'd safely transported the toast and the glass of milk to my room when Lady thought it would be a great game to jump up at me. I managed to save the milk, but the toast went flying. I screamed at her but she just looked up at me with those big brown eyes as if to say, 'What have I done.' So I sat on the bed and began to clean up the mess. And, Sod's Law, the toast had landed honey side down. As I peeled it off the carpet Lady dived in and began licking up the honey and then wolfing down the toast. It gets a bit weird now because the other piece of toast was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't on the floor, neither was it under the bed. Amazingly, I found it, sticking to my stomach, inside my gown. As I peeled it off, I was all just a sticky mess. And, as I unfastened my gown, Lady again dived in and began licking the stuff off. I tried to hold her back but, even back then still a puppy, she was a big strong dog. So I just let her. And, God forgive me, that's what gave me the idea.
When I think back, I still cringe. I try to make the excuse that, at that age, my hormones where probably whirling around like the final, spin cycle on a washing machine. But, nothing eases the shame. Perhaps, writing this will help. But I doubt it.
The honey was in one of those squeezy, plastic, bottles. So, I sat on the bed, with Lady sitting in front of me, opened my legs and squeezed. I was both terrified, but the excitement outweighed the fear. And Lady did it, it was all a game to her. As you can imagine it was a very hit and miss affair. But when Lady's big rough tongue hit the spot it was like being touched by a live wire. I think, looking back, that I probably must I have gone a little bit mad. I know I was very desperate. And the honey, flowed and the dog licked. And I came. It wasn't just an orgasm, probably my first one, more like an explosion. And then the total shame, the fear, the dirtiness of it all. Still with me now.
There! I've confessed. For the first time in ten years I've told my secret. Does it make me feel better? Not really. Did I, or would I, ever do it again? Of course not, it's filthy. But, weirdly, writing it down, for the first time kind of stirs something inside me. It's all very strange???????
My Mum and Dad where going to a wedding that involved an overnight stay. Mum insisted that I go with them because she didn't like leaving me alone. But, I dug my heels in and pretty soon a row developed. It was only when Dad, good old Dad, persuaded her that I was old enough to look after myself that she gave in. Anyway, I wasn't actually alone because I had, Lady, Mum's six month old Labrador puppy, for company.
I'd bought a whole collection of girly magazines, Dad had given me a box of my favourite chocolates. I'd had my shower, wrapped myself in my dressing gown and planned to curl up in bed partly because, for all my bravado, I was still a little bit frightened of being on my own. Everything was so quiet. Anyway, I forgot about the adorable, but totally bonkers, Lady.
Back then I had a thing for honey, buttered, toast. Mum always used to say it would make me fat. It never has. So I made myself two 'doorsteps' oozing butter and dripping with honey. I'd safely transported the toast and the glass of milk to my room when Lady thought it would be a great game to jump up at me. I managed to save the milk, but the toast went flying. I screamed at her but she just looked up at me with those big brown eyes as if to say, 'What have I done.' So I sat on the bed and began to clean up the mess. And, Sod's Law, the toast had landed honey side down. As I peeled it off the carpet Lady dived in and began licking up the honey and then wolfing down the toast. It gets a bit weird now because the other piece of toast was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't on the floor, neither was it under the bed. Amazingly, I found it, sticking to my stomach, inside my gown. As I peeled it off, I was all just a sticky mess. And, as I unfastened my gown, Lady again dived in and began licking the stuff off. I tried to hold her back but, even back then still a puppy, she was a big strong dog. So I just let her. And, God forgive me, that's what gave me the idea.
When I think back, I still cringe. I try to make the excuse that, at that age, my hormones where probably whirling around like the final, spin cycle on a washing machine. But, nothing eases the shame. Perhaps, writing this will help. But I doubt it.
The honey was in one of those squeezy, plastic, bottles. So, I sat on the bed, with Lady sitting in front of me, opened my legs and squeezed. I was both terrified, but the excitement outweighed the fear. And Lady did it, it was all a game to her. As you can imagine it was a very hit and miss affair. But when Lady's big rough tongue hit the spot it was like being touched by a live wire. I think, looking back, that I probably must I have gone a little bit mad. I know I was very desperate. And the honey, flowed and the dog licked. And I came. It wasn't just an orgasm, probably my first one, more like an explosion. And then the total shame, the fear, the dirtiness of it all. Still with me now.
There! I've confessed. For the first time in ten years I've told my secret. Does it make me feel better? Not really. Did I, or would I, ever do it again? Of course not, it's filthy. But, weirdly, writing it down, for the first time kind of stirs something inside me. It's all very strange???????
- That's Juicy! 40
- Remove It! 0
