by
My name is Jenny, and I am a 30-year-old single mom.
One afternoon, while my dog, Max, was playing in the backyard, I decided to take a break from cleaning and relax on the couch.
Suddenly, Max came charging into the house, looking at me like he wanted to devour me.
"What's gotten into you, boy?"
But before I could react, he was on top of me, his tongue slithering and slurping all over my face.
The feeling was exhilarating, and a shiver ran down my spine at what he was doing. What was going on? What had gotten into him?
I tried to push the big brute off me, but he was too strong.
"Bad dog, Max," I yelled, trying to sound stern, but the truth was, I was so turned on by his behavior.
The feeling of his hot, wet tongue pushing into my mouth. God help me, I parted my lips and just let him.
He was so excited he nearly knocked the lamp over as his tongue assaulted mine.
"Bad dog," I moaned, unable to resist his advances.
My pussy was so wet, and the thought of being taken by a big, bad dog made my core melt.
He nosed his way down to my shirt and bra and I found myself pulling them off over my body, exposing my creamy skin and small breasts to his hungry gaze.
"What are you doing, bad dog?"
