Dog Sitting (part 1)

Emmas POV
Today has been too long, I finally got home from work and babysitting at about 8pm to find poor Braon with his legs crossed, metaphorically speaking and in urgent need of a walk.

‘Sorry Braon’ I sigh. ‘just let me get changed into something to walk you in.’

I head upstairs and grab some comfortable sweatpants, a t-shirt and hoodie, before stripping off the armor of the office… jacket, gray pencil skirt and a cream shirt. I catch sight of myself in the mirror, I look exhausted, something is definitely going to give. My stomach rumbles, lunchtime was a long time ago, but I am still carrying enough spare weight that a late meal is not going to do me any damage anytime soon.

Socks and trainers complete my ensemble, and I pull my hair back into a ponytail with the scrunchie I keep on my wrist.

The night is dark, but walking a massive great Alaskan companion dog means I have zero worries for my safety. A bunch of lads cross over when they see us, which makes me smile to myself.

I realise Braon needs a halfway decent walk or I am going to get a reputation as a bad pet sitter. So we walk and jog slowly to a park about a mile from my home. The park is partially wooded and black as night... to be honest I am a little bit scared of the darkness.

Braon nudges up against me, and I look down, noticing for the first time that his eyes are a beautiful violet colour. I caress his head, his silky fur, soft in my hand, and my pulse slows as the fear dissipates somewhat.

‘C’mon Braon. Let’s get your walk done, so I can get home and eat’ I tell the dog.

An hour in the park in the dark goes by quickly, and the fresh air and solitude help with my energy levels. Could it be that what I actually need is time to myself?

We head home and back to chores. The cats make their displeasure known as soon as I get back in.

‘I know, I’m sorry guys, dinner is coming right up’

I quickly feed my three precious boys and Braon. Chicken all round for them, as Braon has a natural diet, and it would feel mean to give the cats catfood. Then I throw a ready meal in the microwave for me. It is far too late to cook.

Ping… the microwave finishes it’s cycle and I pull out my ready meal. Apparently it is chicken arrabbiata, although I am sure generations of Italian mamas must be spinning in their graves at the description.

I flop in front of the telly, eating my dinner off a plate on my lap. I am so classy I laugh to myself. The pasta dish is well... hot, and edible, but you couldn’t say much more. Braon is really well behaved, curled up at my feet, not begging at all, and I am sure the cats are only being so good because of his large presence.

I put the plate on the coffee table, it can go in the dishwasher next time I get up, and start to watch some B-rated movie about werewolves and strippers, and there might have been vampires, but I couldn’t be sure as in no time my head was nodding and I drift off to sleep.
....
I am in the dark, dark woods. A wood thicker and more terrifying than any I have ever been in before.

I hear a howl behind me, and know I have to run, the pack is after me and if I don’t run now I will never escape. So I am running, stumbling over tree roots, stones shifting underfoot and threatening to twist my ankle.

I hear the sounds of paws closing in on me, the panting noise of lupine creatures exerting themselves. I know, somehow, that my pursuers are wolves not dogs.

I look to my left and see Saba keeping pace, on my right is Braon. What are they doing here I wonder

Braon ploughs into me, knocking me off my feet. What the actual fuck.

The ground is soft, like a mattress, cradling my body, not hurting it. Braon stands over me, drool dropping from his jaws, hot and wet on my cheek and neck. He then gently licks my face.

Except it isn’t Braon licking my face and I am not in the woods, I am in a club, dancing with Peter. He looks amazing, a maroon shirt and tight black jeans, and as he pulls me in for a slow dance I am surrounded by the scent of woodland and moonlight.

The song ends, I look up into his perfect face, his blue eyes are stormy gray, there is so much emotion in them and I am not sure I am ready to face it. Then he cups my chin and slowly, oh so slowly lowers his mouth over mine.

His lips, so gentle, so warm caress mine… a kiss full of tenderness. He breaks the kiss… intently scrutinising my face… looking for permission? to continue.

‘Pe-ter,’ I murmur his name, my breath catching in my throat. This is all the permission he needs. His mouth smashes into mine, the tender kiss has become a passionate one. My eyes flutter close as he plunders the recesses of my mouth with his tongue. My tongue dances with his, my heart rate rising, fire shooting down my body. I can feel my nipples harden, the fabric of my bra irritating to the sensitive nubs. The sensation pools as a smouldering fire between my legs, and I know I am already wet and ready for him.

I open my eyes and we are alone… in a large hotel bedroom, modern and expensive looking. It is just me and this god-like man, and our wants and needs.

He looks at me like he wants to eat me up, like I am prey…. like the wolves who chased me?... the look is intense and fuels the fire of desire running through my veins already

‘Yes’ it is all the permission he needs. My head rolls back as he kisses and nibbles down my to my collar bone and back up. His fingers find the zipper to my dress, pulling it down and then sliding it down, until the material falls under the force of gravity to pool at my feet, leaving me exposed, dressed only in a bra and panties.

I step out of the frock, and before shame and embarrassment engulf me I am crushed up against his body again, as his mouth ravages mine. His hands gently caress up and down my back, exploring my curves.

I run my hands up over his shoulders, tangling my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. I want... no I need this man with an intensity I have never felt before.

I feel my bra loosen as he fiddles with it and releases the catch. He is too in control, and wearing far too many clothes, my fingers are shaking as I pull back a little. I bite my bottom lip in concentration as I start to undo the buttons on his shirt.

‘Emma’ he growls, his voice is low and husky. ‘Goddess I want you... you are mine, now and forever’

The possessiveness doesn’t scare me, the fire in my loins is becoming an inferno, I am wet, so wet and ready for him.

I lean into him, my bare flesh against the naked flesh of his chest, my fingers reaching for his trouser fastening.

‘Not so fast kitten’ and he secures my wrists behind my back in one fluid movement.

With his free hand he cups my right breast and runs his thumb over my hard nipple. I shudder and moan. He is on his knees in front of me, his face level with my neck and shoulder, he nibbles and nips my flesh, his hand continuing to caress my right nipple, as his mouth slowly lowers onto my left one, sucking, teasing, grazing it with his teeth…

The sensations are sooooo incredible, sex has never been like this, and we are still only in the heavy petting zone.

‘Pe-ter… Pe-ter’ I am moaning, as the fire inside me grows into an inferno. ‘Please Peeee-ter….’
....
I awake with a start, the telly has gone off and Braon is staring at me. I am very aroused, but I never cum in dreams, the intense sensations always wake me up.

I look at Braon, and suddenly I am crying. The big galoot of a dog comes to me as if to offer comfort, and I bury my face in his fur, feeling so comforted just by his presence.

Once the tears have slowed I pull back and look deeply into the dog’s beautiful violet eyes.

‘Oh what am I going to do Braon’ I whisper to him. ‘I am falling hard for your master. I want him, I want to give him a chance if he wants to…. but I can’t be hurt, I can’t do it again’