All Over Red Rover

By Peter_Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)
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Like millions of young girls worldwide, the last thing Sophie felt like doing was getting out of bed, let alone going to school. The bed was safety, comfort, warmth, and the surrogate womb if you will. It was a place to dream of growing up, of future romance and of late, somewhere to caress her developing body with not a little TLC. At fifteen now, masturbation had become as frequent an event in her life as flossing those pretty teeth.

If there is anything measurably sexier than a cute teen schoolgirl first thing in the morning winging her way to the bathroom just moments after she’s woken up, I can’t immediately nominate it. Tousled hair flopping across her shoulders as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. Youthful figure barely concealed by that semi-transparent nightdress that seems to cling to everything it shouldn’t. And remember, I have three daughters!

For at least two years, Homer, a huge Labrador of mixed parentage but who Sophie loved with a passion, had slept at the foot of her bed. With the onset of winter, a deal was struck between them, and Homer was granted leave to snuggle up on the bed with her. She never needed a hot water bottle, let’s say.

The morning in question, she had dragged herself out of bed and was standing near the full-length mirror wondering if Debbie, her older sister, was yet out of the shower. Her eyes strayed to the reflected surface, and as she caught sight of her own image, she stared at the lithe schoolgirl whose young breasts were clearly visible through her nightwear. A hot flush coursed through her as she lowered her eyes momentarily, almost ashamed to have even noticed such an eventuality.

The girl in the mirror smiled back at her and with slow deliberation gradually raised the hem of her nightdress, revealing a pair of dainty floral panties. Sophie watched fascinated as her virtual doppelganger began to gently rub the front of those girlish briefs, her camel-toe now clearly visible.

To what extent the reflected apparition may have influenced Sophie’s fingered progress that morning is a moot point. Right that second Homer, perhaps drawn by the girl’s visual sexual activity, maybe latching-on to the female scent…padded across to his mistress and thrust one very moist, if not intrigued nose well up between her legs.

Fully shocked out of her reverie, Sophie tried to push him away but found him determined in the extreme to further his quest for knowledge.

“No, Homer,” she cried out, as the dog’s tongue flicked her panties centrally. “Get back on the bed!”

Reluctantly the dog clambered back upon the coverlet.

Several times in the past Homer had nosed her somewhat intimately she recalled, never though had he been as determined to intrude upon her maidenly charms as just moments before. She could not though discount the effect his tongue had wrought simply with that one exploratory lap.

Grabbing her school stuff, she walked to the bathroom and finding it empty, went in, showered and dressed. Her hand wanted to perpetuate its earlier mirrored activities and beneath the hot water especially, but she was already running fifteen minutes late and could not afford the luxury of any further digital stopovers. Besides, sitting on the school bus with a wet pussy was not conducive to the educational process, leastways not as far as the school curriculum was concerned.

It was a normal school-day in the upshot. Two spot tests no-one was expecting, detention for painting her nails in class and one of the all-time boring lectures on the moral decay of modern society. The day descended into farce late afternoon when, for the fourth time that month, the class jerk Daniel Cramer, asked if she would go out with him the coming Saturday. Another hour of that lecture would be preferable, she decided.

Getting into her mom’s car parked across the way on Carmino Drive, all she was thinking about was whether or not they were still going to Oscar Blue’s for dinner as had been mooted the previous evening.

As luck would have it, they did and thus following a sumptuous repast and a sip of her father’s wine when he excused himself to go to the washroom, Sophie was feeling rather more back on track. She had quite forgotten the earlier Homer incident as she hastened to her room to complete some minor homework tasks.

Homer evidently had not, and as the girl seated herself at her desk, he sidled across and began nuzzling her in areas that might be described as ‘indiscreet’ let’s say.

“What’s wrong with you, Homer?” she cried out. “You’re behaving like Daniel Cramer,” she giggled at the sudden image her words threw up, pushing the dog away meanwhile. He sat there looking up at his young mistress soulfully.

She was finding it hard to concentrate on her schoolwork suddenly, probably due to the multiple indecent thoughts crowding-in upon her. She had to admit to a certain curiosity. While the tongued eccentricities of her beloved pet were hardly the virginal pursuits of a young lady, she could not deny the momentary arousal his unwarranted attentions had bequeathed her that morning.

Quite without thought for the consequences, she stood up, then making sure her bedroom door was closed, slipped out of her school-dress and clad in just her matching white bra and panties, seated herself on the edge of the bed. She felt deliciously sexy and tentatively holding her small bra outwards, admired the developing contents of both cups, the color rising in her cheeks as she gazed at the noticeably extended condition of either nipple.

Subconsciously her hands slipped down between her legs. It was so warm and inviting there.

Homer obviously thought he was invited!

Padding over to Sophie, he nosed his way between the girl’s thighs. This time she did not push him away but lay back on the coverlet, legs apart and with the delineation of her vaginal mound clearly visible through her panties. Daniel Cramer would assuredly not have needed a ‘Beginners Sex for Dummies’ manual, Homer though was rather more cautious, ever mindful of his earlier reprimands.

At the precise moment, Homer’s nose made direct contact with the front of her discernibly moist cotton briefs, Sophie let out a muffled cry. Every instinct told her this was way wrong by anyone’s standards but there again, where was the ref?

As Homer’s tongue lapped at those barely covered virginal lips that first time, Sophie sighed, closed her eyes, and spread herself even more indecently. She hadn’t yet realized it, but such movement opened up a gap between her upper thigh and that delectable little pussy itself. Homer liked gaps.

The next tongued exploratory flicked its way inland, guided one assumes, by the scent of female arousal.

Simply the sensation of a hot tongue parting her pubic hair as it made its way to the de-fortified campus yonder, had Sophie gasping and clutching at her lower extremities with something approaching desperation. Another lap and she was a convert.

“Oh God Homer,” she murmured to no one in particular. “You are making me so hot!” She raised her arms above her head and allowed him than the total freedom to lick her wherever he so desired.

As the pleasure factor increased, the young girl became less inhibited and by the time Homer’s tenth lick had by accident, almost penetrated her labial fortress she was cruising on hi-octane.

Reaching down with what one might describe as foolish determination, she held her panties to one side. Homer needed no further encouragement and able to directly lap now the object of his affections as it were, his tongue separated her entire vaginal slit in its quest to extricate that which his taste buds sought so eagerly.

Sophie could no longer lay still, and she found she had no control over her hips either. The more Homer lapped at the Promised Land, the more she found herself thrusting upwards in pleasured response. Naturally, her clitoral nub bore the brunt of her pet’s tongued incursions, and it came to pass sooner rather than later that courtesy of a few million highly active nerve-endings, she found herself on the edge of an orgasmic cliff-top. It was fun falling off!

Homer cocked his ears as his mistress slid to the floor, making little noises he had never heard in his life. She definitely didn’t seem angry!

Breathless but still in control of her faculties, her mind was a maelstrom of emotions. Guilt, pleasure, arousal, embarrassment all figured prominently. As she sat there gazing at Homer not four feet away, she felt an overpowering urge to perpetuate the moment. Reaching behind her, she had the clasp of the bra unhooked in seconds and disengaging herself from its confines she sat upright fully topless, her proud breasts displayed in their full tempting glory. Kneeling now, she ran her hands across both nipples causing herself to shiver with expectancy.

“Come here, Homer,” she whispered, arms at her side, back arched provocatively.

Obediently the dog approached his mistress.

Whether or not her nakedness was an influencing factor or simply that his canine senses latched on to the milky smell of her breasts is a moot point. Certainly, they were the nearest point of contact so far as his moist nose was concerned. He nuzzled her cleavage before licking her right breast enthusiastically.

Sophie felt a hot flush snaking its way south. “Good boy!” she murmured, holding the dog’s head to her chest as she arched her back even more prominently.

Homer sensed her compliance and began lapping both breasts with little finesse but considerable zeal. Rapidly losing her grip on normality, the girl began to whimper as Homer’s tongue performed a therapeutic service that she had never thought possible. She could feel his saliva running down her breasts, and her inhibitions had receded to the point her body was starting to take control of the situation.

Hastily slipping her panties off, she extricated herself from Homer’s attention just long enough to regain the coverlet where she lay sprawled on her back, her legs draped off the side of the bed and sufficiently wide that Homer’s procreative instincts were guided by the visuals as much as the overpowering scent.

Straddling the teenager, his crude humping actions brought Sophie momentarily back to reality. Glancing down past her breasts that Homer was still lapping at eagerly she could see his glistening sheath working its way between her legs as the dog, locked now into his pre-programmed state was becoming agitated in its attempts to penetrate his quarry. She sensed something pressing hard against her pussy. It felt huge.

Panicking suddenly, she tried to push Homer off, but he was in no mood for rejection and pinned her to the coverlet, growling now and by far the stronger of the two. She thought of calling out, but how might she explain the situation to anyone? Lying naked on her bed about to be raped when she was supposed to be doing her homework? Yeah right!

Like most young girls she had thought of how it might be losing her virginity… but to a dog? At the same time, some part of her wanted this, no matter how it hurt. Maybe if she didn’t fight him, the discomfort would be lessened?

Deftly, she reached down and took hold of Homer’s engorged sheath from which something was clearly disengaging itself.

Even though Sophie had no clear operational strategy to fall back on – as it were, the mechanics of the looming beastly coupling could hardly be said to be littered with options. Besides, Homer’s penile instincts were such that the teenager’s hand served as little more than a token guide in the short term.

Sophie gasped as the head of her pet’s glistening shaft docked successfully between her own very moist vaginal lips. Something less than comfortable, however, her mouth opened in shocked disbelief as Homer began forcing his way inside her up-till-that-second virginal cavern.

“Ooh God, Homer,” she cried out, one hand holding the dog’s collar, at the same time splaying her legs even further apart to lessen the pain.

Unfortunately, her canine partner was less inclined to the genteel approach and with a powerful thrust of its lower body, forced itself into his mistress’s hot little pussy. Having no time even to reflect on the passing of her hymen, Sophie was suddenly plunged into a world of major agony, as what felt like a white-hot cylinder of semi-molten lead, filled her lower extremities as the dog humped the young girl senseless right on the edge of her bed.

If she did cry with pain, she couldn’t remember. Nothing was registering except that oversize drill-bit currently scouring the inside walls of her vaginal chamber. Homer’s hot breath caressed her face as the dog upped his work-rate in a bid to attain his procreative goal.

Gross agony that the experience was proving to be, Sophie’s body was nevertheless acclimatizing by degrees to the overall discomfort level, and she felt the urge to thrust her hips up to meet the inbound invader. Her small breasts, she could see, were trembling as a result of the assault between her legs and a few beads of moisture were now visible within the shallow confines of her still-developing cleavage. She passed one hand across both breasts only to be shocked by the erect condition of either nipple. Reaching up with both hands, she pulled Homer’s head lower, kissing the dog’s snout as she had done so many times in the past, before going to sleep.

“Fuck me, Homer,” she whispered. The words felt so deliciously naughty for some reason!

Less motivated by his mistress’s words of sexual encouragement than his natural urge to complete the reproductive cycle, Homer’s thrusts assumed a more determined nature. Sophie was now whimpering herself, eyes closed, her legs so far apart that even Daniel Cramer might have scored a guest spot as co-rapist, without fear of discovery.

She felt Homer stiffen inside her as what little space remained, was suddenly forced to accommodate an even greater penile girth. She gasped with renewed shock as he began to pump into her vagina, what felt like hot fudge. The dog continued to straddle his mistress, lapping at her small breasts as he emptied the last vestige of semen into her.

Having no wish to pursue realism to the point of distaste, we shall dwell not, on the poor girl’s additional internal discomfort caused by the phenomenon of canine ‘knotting.’ Let us simply say that Sophie was for a brief hiatus, forced to consider whether or not she had in fact, “bitten off more than she could chew.”

His task complete ultimately, Homer’s sheath retracted, and he backed off from the prostrate girl, electing then to settle at the foot of the bed while licking himself clean.

For several moments she simply lay there breathing heavily. Her legs still spread, one hand idly fondling her breasts still, it was an aspect let’s suppose, her father would have found “interesting” to say the least, had he walked in right that second.

Slipping the other hand between her legs, Sophie could feel the stickiness on site. Not just around the entrance to her pussy but on the inside of both thighs, she could feel semen pulsing out of her. Her vaginal channel was aflame, her outer lips sore. Even her breasts were tingling. She couldn’t remember having an orgasm though fully unable to rule out the possibility.

Either way, she was no longer a virgin.

Walking to the bathroom wasn’t the simple task it had always been in the past. Sophie’s legs appeared to be fully un-coordinated now, and neither appeared much interested in holding the girl up too steadily. Her pussy was sore as Hell, while muscles she didn’t even know she had, were aching badly. She was a mess! Running into her sister mid-hallway was something she really could have done without.

“What is it, Sophie, what’s wrong with you?” Debbie asked, quite evidently distressed by her younger sister’s pained expression and unsteady gait. “You look like you’ve just been gang-raped?”

Sophie winced at the comment. With her hair completely mussed-up and clutching the bathrobe to her, she realized how bad she must look. Unable to control her emotions, she just burst into tears, “Oh Deb,” she cried. “I’ve been so stupid…so stupid.” Debbie led her to her own bedroom and having seated her on the bed, walked over and closed the door.

“Guess you’d better start at the beginning, sis,” she said.

Debbie listened as her younger sibling recounted the day’s activities. At the point Sophie reached the part where Homer had assumed the more assertive role of Rhett Butler, her hand was already hovering near her mouth.

“You actually let him do it to you, Sophie?” she asked breathlessly. “Wow, that’s like unreal.”

Still, a virgin herself, which at eighteen, set her apart from most of her twelfth-grade school-friends, the image of her sixteen-year-old sister, naked and lying submissively on her back in her own bedroom with Homer straddling her slim body, was one best described as majorly confronting.

“I just don’t know what made me do it, Deb,” the girl sobbed, “I just wanted to feel what it was like I suppose.”

Debbie was silent for a few seconds. The truth is that just imagining her young sister’s plight, but ten minutes earlier was making her now unaccountably hot. She also remembered how Homer had nosed his way up against her own bikini pants just a few nights earlier and how that had generated some embarrassingly hot flushes at the time.

“Look, Sophie… it’s done now,” she tried to reassure her sister. “Don’t worry about it for the rest of the vacation… hey, it’s not like you can fall pregnant or anything.”

Sophie smiled up at her, hearing that. “I guess that’s the truth,” she muttered. “I just feel so… dirty somehow. Like, how many girls at our school let their dogs fuck them do you suppose?”

“Hmmm… Well, probably Kirsty Saunders,” Debbie giggled. “She’s certainly worked her way through every boy at least from ninth grade upwards.”

“You’re disgusting,” Sophie muttered in her sister’s direction. “Anyway Deb, I’m gonna have a shower, see ya in the morning?”

“I love you, Sophie,” Debbie replied, coming across to hug her, “It’s cool… really!”

The shower worked its sorely needed magic, washing away all evidence of her recent canine abuse. The hot water invigorated her body and prepped her for a good night’s sleep.

The villain of the piece was not invited to share the coverlet that night either, you can understand.

Despite Homer’s obvious preference for a re-run of the evening’s indulgence with his young mistress in the coming days, Sophie remained resolute.

“Leave me alone,” and, “Down Boy,” and finally “Fuck off Homer,” got the girl’s point across admirably. Homer was dispirited if not downright puzzled.

*****

Some four days later, Friday night to be precise, Sophie had agreed to go to her girlfriend’s sixteenth birthday party. She had even persuaded her mother to shell out eighty-seven fifty for a new dress, sexy little number that it undoubtedly was, offering both low-cut visuals and provocative rear-end entrapment.

Wriggling into the body-hugging outfit in front of her mirror, she could not fail to notice that her crowning glory was in dire need of some controlling influence. Where was that hairbrush? Of course, Debbie had borrowed it that morning, getting ready for school. Winging her way to her sister’s room just down the hall, she opened the door, getting as far as “Debbie where did you put…?” The sentence was never likely to be finished!

Still in her school uniform technically, Debbie’s immediate aspect from her younger sister’s perspective, was one of arousing disbelief. Lying back on the edge of her bed, crumpled dress up around her hips, panties tossed in solitude to the left of her work-desk, she had her legs spread such that Sophie might have seen her entire glistening slit. Homer’s thrusting his procreative way inside her right about then, one paw precariously balanced on the girl’s right breast she noticed.

For several moments Debbie was fully unaware of her visitor and continued making sexual utterances in response to what was being done to her. Like her sister before her, she was discovering how the pain thresh-hold might be raised marginally by spreading her legs wider.

It was not until Sophie’s half-stifled “Debbie!” that she became aware of the imminent company. So far down the track was she, however, even seeing her sister standing there, was not sufficient to cause her to extricate herself from Homer’s penetrative delights. She looked up at her younger sibling with an expression of almost resigned acceptance. The sight of Sophie’s young breasts almost spilling out of her dress, simply added to the heat of the moment. She wanted desperately to see Homer fuck her again with just that knee-length hem pulled up.

“Oh God,” she muttered as Homer began humping her with renewed vigor.

Sophie watched, fascinated. Far from being affronted by the unfolding drama, she felt unaccountably aroused, going so far as to drop her hand to her waist and then lower still as Homer turned into the home straight. Scooping up her dress, she just had to rub her pussy, standing there quite uncaring that her sister was watching. She began masturbating herself through her panties.

Debbie smiled approvingly, studying every feature of her pretty little sister and fully entranced by her evident self-help program. Had not Homer been there, she might have masturbated with her, after all, it was something she had always wanted to do if she were honest with herself. There was no time for further ponderance on the subject; however, as Homer was now in his final phase. She felt something expanding within her, followed by what might have been a high-pressure hose on full release. She pushed Homer off her.

Allowing her hem to drop and thus restore some modesty to a highly immodest situation, Sophie sat down beside her sister. For a while, neither uttered a word, simply holding hands and looking at each other. Eventually, Debbie spoke.

“I just wanted to know too, Sophie…had to experience it myself. Do you hate me for it?”

“Yeah right,” she replied, smiling, “Like I’d hate you, Deb? All you did is what I did!” She was staring at her sister’s hot little pussy exposed as it still was. Filmy strings of cum were pulsing out now. She watched as her sister’s hand insinuated itself beneath the hem of her dress. It felt incredibly warm and exciting; she spread her legs fractionally.

Inclining her head slightly, her lips met Debbie’s. The kiss was protracted and passionate.

“Take your clothes off, Sophie,” she whispered, unzipping her own school-dress as she spoke.

The End.

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*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot has remained the same. Just remember, even with the limited editing we do, it doesn’t always mean the flaws in a story are always fixed.

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