Review of Australian Fiction, Volume 3, Issue 2

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Review of Australian Fiction, Volume 3, Issue 2 Page 7

by Emily Maguire


  He felt his balls tighten and lift. The excitement coursed through him. He eased his hips back and his cock appeared. He left the tip of it inside and looked at the whole gleaming length of it, wet with her juices, ripe with her. It was too much, he felt the throbbing start and he pushed forward. His cock disappeared into her in one hard thrust, he was doubled over with the force of his pleasure, he felt the come slide the length of his penis, felt it spurt into the dark heat of her. His cheek was pressed against her neck and he smelled the warm wet fur. He buried his sob in her pelt. He was coming. His hips were pushing against her. The pulsing overtook him. He wondered if he would ever stop. Even when the front door opened and the cold of the corridor slapped onto his bare chest, even then he continued to come. He was emptying his whole self into her, she was taking him all in. He was inside her and he never wanted to pull out again.

  She was staring at him, her shattered face open with her horror. She was watching him pump the last of his seed into Blue and she was repulsed by this. She held her dressing gown around her, her body closed off, hidden away from him but her mouth was as open as Blue’s cunt. Her mouth was a silent scream. He thrust forward once more, twice. He didn’t want to stop, not yet, not ever. He was emptying himself of his humanity. This much was certain. When he was finished there would be nothing left of him.

  The spasms lessened, stopped. He returned to himself reluctantly. He eased himself up to standing and when he stepped away from Blue his penis leaped up, red and wet and dripping with his spend. He noticed some of his sperm leaking out of her and he bent then and watched it and felt it with his finger. His desire had not abated with his coming. He wanted her again, soon, when he had recovered just a little bit. He wanted to be alone with her and with his pleasure. Her eyes were on him, accusatory. Her mouth still open. Swollen mouth, blue, cracked. One of her eyes was no more than a deep blue wink. He had done a real job on her. She was broken. She was in pain. He would never treat his Blue this way. He would die protecting her. He opened his mouth to say this but she just shook her head, shuffled backwards, swaying, unbalanced. And then she shut the door.

  Blue turned. His Blue. She was his now. She had given herself to him and he to her. Blue sniffed at his prick once more, licked it. The sight of her tongue lapping at the sheen of his sperm excited him again. She turned a heavy panting circle and presented her rump to him once more. Jesse glanced up at the closed front door. Why hadn’t he locked it? He could have so easily locked it. Blue barked to get his attention, shuffled back, butting his hips with her own. She wanted him. How much more clear could she be? She wanted him inside her. He wished he knew more about the physicality of a female dog. He didn’t even know if they had a clitoris, if they experienced orgasm. He had spent so much energy trying to avoid pictures of them on the internet, purposely clicking away when an image of an animal appeared on his computer screen in any context. It had wrecked this moment. He did not know if he should rub her there, or elsewhere? He didn’t know what to do. She barked again and he clung to her hips, hugging her, breathing her in. This would be all he had, this moment. She was here. Now, and she wanted him inside her. He eased his penis down and slipped into her once more. It was less urgent now. He could take his time. He slipped into a pleasing rhythm, slow, gentle. He rubbed the back of her neck, wrapped his hands around her waist, reached up and under to feel the place he had entered. Rubbed a little, just in case. He wanted her to find her pleasure with him. Her tail thumped awkwardly to the side of them. A sign of her pleasure. He wanted this to be true. He would take his time now. No rush. At least that is what he thought, and even when the sound of the siren approached their street, how was he to know that the police car was there for him? He eased himself gently into her and then out again, muttering sweet grunting sounds into her ear. He felt calm now for the first time in so long. Even the rain had eased. No lightning, no thunder, just this moment here with Blue and nothing else mattered.

  When the light shone through the window of the flat it might have been lightning. When he heard the voices they might have been next door.

  But, of course, they weren’t. He closed his eyes and climbed up to the perfect moment. Even with the door flung wide and the flat filling up with the large bodies, their human sweat and stink, even then he found it, that place, that perfect balanced place, and, lifting his head up from her damp fur, Jesse came.

 

 

 


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