#67404 - Luckily, my joggers bunched around my knees held them quite closely together, preventing him from slipping his knot in, although he was certainly giving it a good try. I was soaked; my nipples were standing out, trying to poke holes through the only thing I was wearing, a tee shirt that I had stolen from my live in boyfriend. I accepted the fact the first time I was coerced, and a lot of the time under the influence of illegal substances, but the questions turned like worms in my brain, would I do it again? if I did would I enjoy it? Two decades later, and now an upstanding member of society, would I do it again out of my own free will? Give myself to a dog? Stick my ass high in the air like a slut, and beg him to mount me, and use me, and pound me with his angry red dog cock? As the questions swirled in my head, one quick check between my legs provided the resounding answer that I couldn’t get myself to verbalize.
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