Halfway through the blowjob, the phone rang.
She could tell he was torn between her finishing, and picking up the call. His phone was across the room on the other table, since she was currently tied to the coffee table. His strokes slowed, then picked up pace again when the phone quieted.
Immediately it began to ring again.
“fuck!” He pulled his cock from her mouth, and for a moment they were connected by a thin string of their mingled fluids. Then he pulled away, the string broke and fell wetly against her cheek and nose. He picked up the phone, and she tried to ignore the tickle on her nose.
She could tell it was work, likely his overseas contact. Occasional Mandarin scattered through his conversation. With her head upside down, she watched him tuck his cock away, and seem to forget her, tied here. He went into the kitchen and she heard the fridge open and close, heard him talking, then the slap of the backdoor, and his voice receding.
“Well, doesn’t that suck,” she said to no one. She tugged her left arm, her right, but she was tied tightly. Her legs didn’t so much as wiggle, her knees tied widely apart. Her tits ached from the clamps pressing on her nipples, but he hadn’t tightened them and for now it was bearable.
But she was almost unbearably horny. She could see the Hitachi in the corner, plugged in and laying as ignored as she was. Her pussy clenched as her nipples throbbed.
“I need to be fucked.” Her neck was starting to ache just a bit. She felt warm breath on her inner thigh.
“What the? Barney? No. NO! Go…git outta here. Go see Daddy. Daddy is in the kitchen. Go. NO, Bad dog. NO!”
Yet the inquisitive pooch was sniffing her exposed and leaking cunt. He pressed his nose right at the top of her slit and sniffed. The sensation tickled and she wriggled. His tongue slipped out and tasted.
He stepped back a bit and angled his head. She raised hers and tried to stare the dumb mutt down.
“No Barney. Go kitchen. Go find Daddy. Daddy has cookies.”
He dropped his head and began lapping at her lower lips.
“Blood of KEERIST!” she yelped, “Sir? MASTER? STEVEN QUINN MC DOUGLAS!!!!”
Yet nothing seemed to gain her husbands attention, nor dissuaded the pooch from his snack. When he hit her clit she moaned, jolted, and wished he’d do it again.
“OOOh. Ohhh. ogod…good dodoggg..”
She began moaning as his tongue delved deeper, slurping up the sudden rushing of her juices. It was obvious that he was enjoying what he was tasting. His licking grew more frenetic as her hips wiggled as much as she could, trying to help him hit the right spots. She was moaning, eyes closed as his tongue scraped across her sensitive clit again.
She came, spurting juices, which made the dog lick frantically. It appeared he didn’t want to miss a drop of her nectar. He lapped the tender and ticklish skin of her inner thigh, making her giggle and try to shift away. Tied as she was, she was helpless to evade the brush of his breath, the ceaseless stroking of his tongue.
As the tremors from her orgasm faded, the pain in her nipples grew. The dog lapped the last of the nectar from her thighs, and moved back into the folds. He used his nose to press deeper, and she felt the unmistakable upwelling of lust once again.
“Gods, Barney, you’re…gonna…oh god…god…” She dropped her head back and began panting. The dog found the entry to her hole and press his tongue into her. She squealed as the second orgasm rippled through her, and at the sudden onslaught of sensitivity. OH her clit was so sore after she came. Hurt, hurt, hurt…and gawd she was coming again, moaning, head thrashing as he drank from her.
“Oh, ohhhh” her voice rose several octaves as she felt more tremors shudder through her. “No no Barney, gods please please stop boy…” She wondered where her husband was. These calls from China often took hours. She would surely expire if someone didn’t call the fucking dog off of her pussy!
“Scat. Go!” Arching up painfully, she glared at the dog. He was paying her no mind. He glanced up as she hissed at him, then ignored her, going back to his snack.
Lapping at the creases between her pussy lips.
Lapping at the pussy honey leaking onto those plump lips.
Lapping at the cleft near the top, and slapping across her clit, once, twice, then again. She came from just that, and he seemed to know that presaged another onrushing of juices. His tongue slipped to the edge of her tunnel, the a long lick from her anus to her clit.
He nosed back to her thighs, and she giggled despite the painful sensitivity of her pussy.
“no. NO POOCH!”
Yelping, moaning, she came again.
A slow, steady clapping came from the doorway. Opening her eyes, she saw Him, leaning one shoulder against the door jamb, watching the scene.
Her voice was raw, husky.
“Master…please make him stop. Please.”
“Hurts, does it?” He well knew how sore, how hypersensitive she was after an orgasm.
She moaned. “yes, Master…hurts.”
“Good, very good slut. I was worried that you would feel that you were being ignored. I see Barney has taken up the slack for me…and you’ve not been ignored after all.”
The dog had stopped, looking up at as his Master had spoken.
“Oh, do carry on, Barney,” He made a gesture to the dog, who seemed to share a smile with his Master, before turning back to the dripping, exposed folds in front of him.
She watched, head upside down, as he walked towards them, and began unzipping his pants.