Hypnotized, the older woman stared at the girl twisting to the obscene licking between her legs. Never! Never before had she imagined that such terrible depravity existed! She had heard of men who sometimes bent a girl to their will and forced her to submit when they put their mouths down there… but Marge Spanner was craving it, begging for it in no uncertain terms, and, worst of all, from a dog! It was so horrid, but at the same time mystifying, to the divorced teacher, how this cherubic girl was allowing it to happen… and enjoying it! Lisa had found a certain measure of empathy when she'd been watching Marge masturbating, something in the girl's lost glassy stare having reminded her of when she would writhe from her own exciting touch. But now this child was being aroused to an unheard-of pitch by a dog, not by her own fingers!
"Ohhhh yes! Atilla! Lick it! Lick it! Eat my snatch! Ohhhh, you're a lovely lover!"
The words burst forth broken and swallowed and choked with passion, and Lisa found herself listening, a tightening sensation beginning to grip the pit of her stomach. The girl was clutching the hair of the dog's neck with both hands and was desperately grinding her naked pussy up against its snout. Lisa could see the dog working faster, its tongue lashing out snake-like and disappearing into the soft hair-fringed pussy lips, the salacious sight and sounds rooting her breathless to the floor.
"More, Atilla! Lick my bush faster!" Lisa heard young Marge pant. "Yes, yes, like that… oohhhhh…!"
Tormentedly, the mature blonde teacher began to realize that her first reaction of horror and revulsion was slowly dissipating, and she was being affected in a way she had never dreamed possible. Now a strange, light-fingered quivering was growing deep between her own thighs, building unwantedly with every moment the huge beast slavered in the girl's cuntal slit. It was wagging its tail joyously now, its head bobbing furiously and causing vile, wet sucking sounds between Marge's widespread thighs.
"Ahhhhh!" the girl sighed deliriously, raising a rash of goose bumps across Lisa's flesh and up to her full breasts, now beginning to heave and harden, the nipples distending sensitively against the sheer netting of her brassiere. She could see the German shepherd's tongue once more, working eagerly in slobbering subjugation at the wide-splayed tightness of the girl's little cunt, and she could see the contortions of her face above the white jiggling mounds of her breasts.
Suddenly, Marge jerked her legs up off the floor, bringing them high up in the air and then back until her knees touched her breasts. The complete surface of her tender developing vagina was open to the eager dog. It flicked its tongue into the little puckered rosette of her anus, and Lisa stared as if mesmerized by the sight, and a long low moan bubbled from Marge's lips.
"Oohhhh, don't stop, don't stop!" the girl whined, writhing her from buttocks furiously against the hot licking tongue spearing mercilessly between the open cheeks of her upraised buttocks. "Damn you, Atilla! You're driving me wild!"
Lisa Hamilton barely dared to breathe now, the rasping sound escaping from her own throat having become so loud. Her mouth was hot and dry, and the prurient sensation tickling unwantedly between her thighs caused her to clamp her legs tightly together. Never before in her life had she experienced such a revolting sense of fascination! The lewd scene and obscene sounds held her gripped, her full breasts commencing to ache with a throbbing desire of their own. She found herself recalling the few times Ralph had tried to go down on her and lick her between the legs, and how she had shouted at him how evil and corrupt he was for entertaining such crude ideas. Now she almost wished she had allowed him to suck her pussy. She knew if her ex-husband were here right now… right now this moment
…!
"I… I'm cumming, you fuckin' dog! Shit on a shingle, I… I'm going to cummmm!" the girl half-screamed, finally crooning off into a weird little wail as she choked and spluttered, arching her hips up off the bench in agitated response!
Lisa was trembling uncontrollably while she viewed the girl's climax. Dear God, a dog had tongued her to orgasm… an orgasm which Lisa had never experienced all the times Ralph had made love to her the normal way! It was beyond belief that this could be happening… but it was! Was it possible that women were all alike; that they were supposed to enjoy sex
…?
But as Marge sprawled satiated back against the bench, the calm aftermath seemed to snap the older teacher back to her sanity. Atilla, too, acted as if he were aware that the wild orgiastic session was over, moving back from the still quivering flesh of the girl's saliva-glistening vagina. He turned and for the first time acknowledged Lisa's presence, staring headily at the woman, his ears pricking up as he tilted his head.
Lord, don't let him bark! Lisa found herself praying. She was filled with far more apprehension than fear, less worried that he would suddenly attack her than that he would warn Marge that she was here in the locker-room. All she wished to do now was silently creep out, heavy with guilt and self-loathing for the way she'd responded to the sordid spectacle. She was in no condition to chastise the girl and certainly not wholesome enough to counsel her about feminine decency! Let her who is without sin cast the first stone… and she couldn't do that any longer, not after the way she'd been thinking! Did not the Bible teach that it is as great a sin to think evil as practice it? God! What had she allowed to overcome her?
Lisa backed away, feeling lost and soiled, not knowing what to do. But, before she was able to reach the partition, her worst fears were confirmed.
"Arf!" went the dog.
"Mrs. Hamilton!" cried the girl.
Marge Spanner sat up convulsively at the bark of Atilla, her legs still splayed on either side of the bench, the wet moisture of animal saliva dripping from her pink cuntal slit. Her hand was up to her mouth, choking back a terrible, whimpering cry as she recognized the chemistry teacher standing nearby. Shame and guilt came to her in that split instant, and her face flamed with livid humiliation.
"Oh no!" she gasped, her eyes widening hysterically. "Oh Mrs. Hamilton, I… I… What are you doing here?"
"There was noise," Lisa blurted, her mind whirling in its effort to find the proper words. "I came in, a-afraid somebody was hurt. B-But it's what you are doing here that's important!"
Marge averted her crimsoning face, moaning in sickening anguish. "You
… saw me, didn't you?"
"How could I help it?" Lisa said sharply, but then fell silent. The older woman found herself momentarily stymied, the guilt of her own obscene behavior weighing heavily on her conscience. She knew she should say something and tried to steady her conflicting thoughts to be the proper teacher, the calm and rational adult who could handle such things. "I… I think you had better get dressed, young lady," she finally managed to utter in a quavering tone.
"Oh crap," the girl moaned uncontrollably, leaping to her feet. She completely ignored the dog now, who was sitting on its haunches again, looking slightly bewildered at this abrupt turn of events. Wildly, the girl sought her clothing, opening one of the lockers next to her and pulling on a jersey blouse and a pair of stretch pants. In her hurry and panic, she didn't bother with panties or bra.
"P-Please, Mrs. Hamilton," she tearfully begged as she dressed. "Please, don't rat on me! I mean, don't tell my parents what happened! They'd kill me!"
"I… I don't know…" Lisa stammered, still in a daze.
"What are you going to do?"
"I simply don't know! Whose dog is this, Marge?"
"Oh no, please don't make me tell you! That'll make it even worse!" the young teenager blubbered frantically. "Atilla is a nice dog most of the time, and they'll put him to sleep or something awful like that!"