Sheep and calves have most commonly served men down through the years and continue to be most popular with farm boys today, although horses, pigs and chickens still figure prominently in barnyard action. But the most popular bestial partner of all in the modern world undoubtedly is the dog, and especially among city-dwellers to whom he is the only practical animal readily available. Dogs seem to adapt themselves agreeably to sex-relations with humans, serving with either tongue or penis, eagerly cooperative in fucking a human cunt or asshole when offered or slobbering over a honey-smeared prick or pussy.
Women are more likely to favor a dog over all other animals to serve their sex purposes and many an unattached lady keeps a canine lover these days — the perfect partner — always ready — always willing — and always absolutely discreet. A dog will never kiss and tell.
But sometimes the ladies will, as in the following case report.
CASE 2 — Laura M.
I was married for four years, and for three years and eleven months of that time I was the most miserable mismated wife in the history of matrimony. I'd had my share of affairs before marriage I have to admit, and I'd always thought of myself as a normal heterosexual female that responded with all the proper gasps and twitches when a man made the usual penetrations, but somehow when I settled down into marriage and it became a night- after-night thing, I became a nervous wreck and got so I hated sex completely. I didn't even want that man to touch me anymore for some crazy reason. It was all I could do by superhuman will-power to put up with a wham- bam quick one from him. He didn't know what the hell was wrong with me and I couldn't tell him either, so we just fought and yelled at each other and things went from bad to worse until we wound up hardly even speaking to each other.
If it hadn't been for this girl friend of mine, Vivian, I don't know what I would have done. She lived in the same building and was a decorator. She'd helped me to fix up the apartment when I first moved in and then she went on being helpful in all kinds of ways after that. She spent a lot of time with me during the daytimes, and I told her my sad stories — let her know all about my sex hang-ups and everything that was bugging me about my old man and men in general.
She never had been married herself but she talked as if she knew the rules of the game pretty well. Anyway, she was a lot of comfort to me when my husband finally pulled out for good. I won't say that Vivian and I fell into a lesbian relationship exactly. We didn't go down on each other or anything like that. But we did get pretty huggy and kissy sometimes and I found I was enjoying her holding me and caressing me the way I couldn't stand my husband doing it to me those last couple of years.
But I was getting more and more confused. What the hell was I, anyway? Finally I up and put it to Vivian in plain down-to-earth terms.
'Am I a lesbian or what? I don't really know what I want anymore. I thought it would be a big relief with my husband gone but now I find that I miss him somehow — miss what he could do for me, if you know what I mean. Even though I could hardly stand it when he did, that last year or so. He bugged me so — always expecting his pleasure right on schedule, night after night. Insisting on his 'marital right'. What I need is a nice docile man who's available and ready to go when I want him but never bugs me otherwise — just up and disappears when I don't want him around anymore. Maybe I should hire a gigolo just for one hour or so a week to come in and cool down my passions. Do they have such things?'
Vivian laughed and said, 'Let me get this straight. What you would like is a man with a good stiff member who's always up and ready when you say 'go' and then crawls off and lies down in a corner afterwards and stays there with his mouth shut until you whistle for him again.'
I laughed too. 'You hit it right on the head. But I'm afraid there just ain't no such animal.'
'Ha!' she yelled. 'You just said the magic word. Animal. The answer to all your problems, honey chile.'
'Animal!' I assumed she was kidding. 'What do you suggest — a nice friendly chimpanzee?'
'Hell no,' she said. 'A chimp is a mean son of a bitch. Worse than a man even. They'll bite the hell out of you, those bastards. A dog is the only animal for a woman. They can do every Goddamn thing a man can do for you except soul-kiss, and I can take care of that department for you.'
She was good at kissing. That's what had me worried about myself. I enjoyed her expert kisses more than I ever did my husband's or any man's. But what I was missing was the hard root up in the soft shaft. A good stiff prick, to put it bluntly.
But a dog? I still thought she was kidding.
'You're screwed-up and frustrated, right?' Vivian said. 'Can't live with a man and can't live without one. A lot of us have that problem. But look at me. Do I seem frustrated? Not for a minute, baby. But did you ever see me dating a man? Forget it — who needs it?'
'Well, maybe you can keep cool just with women,' I said. I figured she was giving me a lesbian confession here. 'I can't just cut myself off from men though. I'm not programmed that way, I'm afraid.'
'Oh, men are fine. I don't knock 'em. Great to talk to — have dinner with — see a show. But you don't have to let 'em take any liberties. That's when they get possessive and bossy. Keep 'em at arm's length and you got 'em at your mercy. But when you feel that old crotch-fever coming on you and need something up inside there to scratch it where it itches — that's where faithful old ever-ready Bozo steps up and fills the bill for mama.'
All of a sudden with a shuddering jolt I realized that this whole thing was serious. I'd seen her walking Bozo a couple of times — Bozo was a gigantic hound she kept in her apartment. Great Dane, or some such thing. I'd never been able to figure before why she wanted to keep such a huge dog in a small city apartment. But now it all came clear. Apparently she had Bozo trained to 'scratch her where it itches.'
I didn't know what the hell to say. I guess I just gaped at her — thunderstruck. I couldn't believe it.
'Don't look so fucking horrified,' she said. 'And don't knock something till you've tried it. Come with me, baby. I'm taking over your education right now.' She grabbed hold of my arm, 'We're going up to my place and I'm going to give you a free home demonstration of the kind of pussy therapy you need. No obligation to buy. But I guarantee it'll put that half-ass husband of yours right out of your mind and give you a whole new outlook on life, sex-wise. You'll be ready and willing to kiss men goodbye and good riddance.'
I must have been in some kind of a daze. I don't even remember riding up in the elevator. The next thing I knew, we were in her apartment and big old Bozo was leaping up all over her with his tongue out, sniffing and yipping. He must have been able to smell her intentions. Personally I was scared to death of the Goddamn beast. I didn't even like little dogs. It looked like she had him pretty well disciplined though. She yelled at him to quit his messing around and get in the bedroom and he did just what he was told.
I guess I looked as if I was about to faint dead away, so Vivian fixed me a drink, which I really needed at that point, and then she said, 'Now, you Goddamn prissy-ass Victorian, relax here and breathe deeply until your head clears. I'm going in the bedroom and set the scene for you. When I yell, you come on in and you'll see my free home demonstration of doggy-diddling — the sport of queens.'
She left and I could hear sweet-talking and sniffing and rustling around in the bedroom. By now the shock had subsided and I was just burning up with curiosity over the whole thing. It was so fantastic, I couldn't wait to see what she'd be doing with that wild Goddamn dog. I still didn't really believe that she'd actually let him — well, my God!
Then she sang out, 'Finish your drink, count three, and come on in, baby. Bozo rides again!'
The dog was making a hell of a racket. I could hear him slurping and snuffling as if he was lapping up his dinner-dish. And then I came through the doorway and my eyes popped out. It was even crazier than I'd expected. Vivian had stripped right down to practically nothing — all she had on was her bra and garter-belt. She was sprawled on her back on the bed with about three fat pillows underneath her rear-end, so that her spread crotch was well up in the air where Bozo could get at it. And was he ever at it! He was standing up between her legs, lapping away at her slit with his long tongue, slobbering and drooling all over it. Actually eating her pussy! Can you imagine?
'Oh no!' I said. 'You gotta be kidding.'
'Pull up a chair, oh thou of little faith,' Vivian said. 'This is just the beginning. You ain't seen nothing yet.'
I couldn't even talk — I was speechless. I sat down beside the bed and couldn't take my eyes off the freaky scene. That wild doggy tongue was going like mad — all up and down her slit and in and out the hollows of her crotch — really lathering her up good.
'Doesn't that tickle?' I said like an idiot. I mean, I didn't know what the hell to say.
She laughed. 'You're Goddamn right it tickles. That's the whole idea, isn't it?'
