Good Doggie Ch. 1

Emma and I both work for what we refer to as a "low-tech" company near the Silicon Valley. The company we work for makes home radon detectors, which we assemble in the plant and sell direct to large hardware warehouses and wholesale direct-to-public stores. I work in Sales and Marketing, and Emma works in assembly. Although we work in different departments, we would often bump into each other in the employee lounge at lunch time, and sometimes would eat lunch together. There was always a little harmless flirting going on between us, and I probably had a few fantasies about her, but the fact that we were both married with kids kept the flirtation harmless, and I always wrote it off to fun and kidding in the workplace. She was very pretty and I was flattered by her attention.

One morning Emma called my office and asked if we could go out to lunch together that day. She said she had something she needed to talk to me about, and although I felt it was a little bit inappropriate, I was also a bit intrigued, and agreed to meet her for lunch at a nearby coffee shop.

Emma was about 27 at the time with a young son and daughter, and explained to me that she and her husband were having severe problems. She told me that she respected my opinion, and needed someone with a little more life experience to talk to. She felt she couldn't go to her parents because she feared they wouldn't support her if she decided to leave her husband. I was 12 years her senior, not quite her parents' age to be sure, and although I was happily married with 2 sons of my own, I felt I could give her some good advice. She asked how she would know when it was time to call it quits and leave her husband. My advice was to make every effort to stick it out, remarking that I knew of two or three couples who had split up because the wife was unhappy, only to have her want her husband back after a year or so of soul-searching. In most cases, the husband had already moved on and was unwilling to take her back.

I also told Emma that she owed it to her kids to make every effort to hold the marriage together, but it was the 90's, and people did get divorced. My final bit of advice was that she would know if and when it became hopeless, and that she would know when it was time to leave. Just by the fact that she was unsure at this point indicated to me that the time was not right.

She thanked me, and we returned to work in our own cars. Nothing was ever mentioned again about our lunch, but in time Emma did leave her husband, and would show up at work with dark circles under her eyes, obviously suffering. I tried to be her friend, and the flirting stopped. For a while, anyway.

After about six months, Emma was back to her normal perky self, and was dating. She had struck up a very close friendship with Joyce in shipping, and I often heard them making plans for weekend trips to the beach with their kids as well as jogging together and movie excursions. Joyce's husband worked for a company that built golf courses, and he was often out of town for extended periods. The two women with no husbands became close and obviously provided a good support system for each other. And it was funny, my parents called me Joseph, and everyone else in my life has called me Joe. For some reason, Joyce always called me Joey. And while I would never let anyone else get away with it, there was something endearing about the way she called my Joey, and asked me how I was doin'. As Emma's spirits rose, she began a whole new round of flirting with me, this time being much bolder than before. I would often make detours through the assembly rooms for a "chance" meeting with her, and when we were alone in her cubicle, she would say things like "it's too bad you're married. We could really heat the sheets together!" I'd blush and laugh, and I think that just encouraged her.

During this time, Emma's beauty really blossomed. She is very thin with long naturally blonde hair. Although she is thin, she is toned and shapely, with small pert breasts (yes, I had noticed), and a sparkle in her eye. Her skin is smooth and very light, with a rosy glow in her cheeks. She had a smile that could drop you from across the room. She had a certain outfit that she would wear that was light pink with a pink sweater, and it just set off her skin tones perfectly, and always made my heart skip a beat when I saw her wearing it.

The flirtation went on for over a year until suddenly, from out of the clear blue sky, my wife decided that she was unhappy. She discovered this by falling in love with someone else, making her realize that she had never really loved me. Within a month she was out of our house and into his, and within six months the property was settled, the custody was decided, the divorce was final, and she was married to someone else. I was just shocked and dazed, and became the one showing up at work with circles under my eyes indicating the level of grief that I was going through. Emma was always there for me, with a kind word and a pat on the back. The flirting stopped again; I think she sensed that it just wouldn't be the same for me.

But time does heal all wounds, and slowly my spirits also rose. As I faced my new life as a part time Dad and a full time mateless man, I did begin to think about remedying my loneliness. And of course, as I mulled entering the dating scene, my thoughts turned to Emma. Finally one day, gathering all my courage, I "happened" by her cubicle and dropped in on her.

"Emma, do you remember how you used to say we could make beautiful music together if I wasn't married?" I asked.

"I sure do!" was her reply.

"Well, I've been thinking that maybe since I'm not married anymore that we might get together and kind of try it on for size." I really didn't know how to be smooth, but I was trying.

"I've been wondering how long it would be until you came sniffing around," she laughed. "Heel, boy!!" I laughed back and almost made a "woof, woof" sound. As always, talking with Emma was easy and fun.

She continued: "I've kind of been thinking about that myself lately, but didn't know if you were ready."

"I am," I said. "At least I think I am."

"I think you are, too. There's just one thing I have to know, though, before I say yes." I wondered what it might be. It didn't take me long to find out. "Would you be willing to do whatever I tell you to?"

I was a bit confused, and told her I didn't get quite what she meant. "If you mean, would I do what you wanted to please you in bed, the answer is absolutely yes."

"Well, that's not exactly what I meant," she said. "More like if I asked you stand in the corner for 10 minutes, or to lick between my toes, or to wash me in the shower, would you do that? Not when we're out at a movie, or at work or anything; just when we're alone together and intimate."

Two things struck me then. The first was a rush of blood to my head and to my crotch, the second that although I had never considered anything like this, that the idea turned me on. Sex with my ex-wife had always been pretty straight. We'd have intercourse a couple times a week, and maybe once a month have some oral sex. Her idea of oral sex was to just go down and peck around a little bit at my peter, give it a couple quick licks, then come up smiling as if she had just done the greatest thing for me in my life. The idea of something more than that was very, very intriguing.

"Well, I've never really had a request like that before but yes, I'd be willing to do that. Probably with a couple of conditions, though."

"And what might the conditions be??" Her big, brown eyes were really sparkling like never before.

"Well, I don't like the idea of having to see or touch a naked man," I said. She laughed at that. "And I don't really think tongues and buttholes go together very well. Other than that, I'd probably be game for just about anything."

"Great!" she said. I couldn't believe we were having this conversation.

"Great!" I said. After a few moments of pregnant pause, I asked "So now what?."

"I'll get back to you," she said, and went back to work at her table. I stood there not quite knowing where to go from there. Finally, I turned to go.

"You've had a vasectomy, haven't you?"

"Yes," was my reply.

"Good," she said.

The rest of the day I couldn't get the conversation out of my mind, and that night at home alone, I just about wore myself out flogging away at my dick as it seemed to keep getting hard again and again and again, as I thought again and again about our conversation and the possibilities that might lay ahead. As for Emma, she was very normal at work, mildly flirtatious, but never making any mention of our previous conversation. Finally one day I screwed up the courage to ask her if we were going to get together, and her only reply was, "Yeah, I told you I'd get back to you on that."

So I just waited.

After about two weeks, the company announced that it would be closing for three days. Often production got ahead of orders, and inventories were high. When the boss gave the assembly and shipping departments days off, he usually closed the whole shop, giving all the employees some unpaid leave. Emma called me in my office the day before the layoff.

"Do you have your kids right now?" she asked.

"No, they're at their Mom's."

"Good. Mine leave for school at 7:45 tomorrow morning. Can you be at my house at 8?"

"Absolutely!" was my instant reply. "Should I bring anything?"

"No darlin', what I need from you is a permanent attachment." Wow!!!!

Needless to say I was extremely punctual the next morning, arriving at her doorstep at exactly 8:00 a.m. She answered quickly when I knocked, and smiled as she let me in. She was wearing a light yellow gingham dress, gathered just below the breast, and reaching about to her knee. She looked fresh, clean, and absolutely beautiful.

"Shouldn't we have, like, gone to a movie for our first date?" I asked mirthfully.

"No, I think this is going to be better than a movie," was her coy reply. "O.K, here's what I want you to do first." She handed me a long white bib apron. "Go into my bedroom, shut the door, take off all your clothes, and put on this apron. Don't come out until I tell you." This was getting good already!!

I went into her bedroom, shut the door, took off all my clothes and put the apron on. As I glanced down, I saw that she had cut a hole in the apron at precisely the area where my groin was, and had stitched around the edges of the aperture. I wasn't quite sure if I was supposed to be hanging out of it, but since she hadn't mentioned anything about it, I decided to leave my somewhat swollen, but not yet hard, dick swinging inside the apron. I took a look at myself in her full length mirror, and thought I didn't look too ridiculous. I was pretty fit for my age, and looked pretty good with nothing on but an apron with a bulge in the center.

After about 10 minutes of sitting on the edge of her bed and wondering what was going to happen next, I heard Emma call out for me to come on out to the living room. I was a bit shocked to see that Joyce was sitting on the sofa with Emma, dressed in a nightie with a sheer robe over it.

"Hi, Joey," said Joyce. "You look pretty good." As I learned later, Joyce was supposed to have beaten me to the house, but one of her kids had missed the bus, and she had to drive them to school. My wait in the bedroom was the chance for Joyce to get there.

"I've got to say I'm a little surprised to see you here, Joyce." I was really quite shocked.

"It's ok, Joe," Emma said. "Joyce always comes over in the morning for coffee on our days off."

"Well, I guess it's ok with me, then," I replied weakly.

"So here's what I want you to do, Joe. I want you to go into the kitchen and clean it up. There are dirty dishes, and the floor needs mopping. Also, when you have an erection, I want you to put it through the hole in your apron. When it's not hard, I want it inside."

So I went into the kitchen, finding the dishes and pans from an apparantly very nice breakfast that Emma had prepared for her children prior to them departing for school. I did the dishes, wiped off the counters, and cleaned the floor with a wet towel. Whenever my dick became hard, which it did when I would get to thinking about what was going on, I would put it through the hole, and whenever it went soft, which it did when I concentrated on the task at hand, would pull it back inside. All during my labors, the two girls sat on the couch in the living room, with their backs to me, chatting merrily away, and drinking coffee. Just as if I wasn't there.

When I finished with the kitchen, I returned to the living room, dick in. I looked down at the two lovely ladies on the couch, and asked, "What next?" Joyce was about the same age as Emma, and almost her opposite with a full, buxom figure and dark auburn hair.

"Well, Joe, what I want you do to is to turn on the T.V., push the play button on the video player, then go into the laundry room that's off the hall and get the feather duster that's in the cupboard above the washer. Then I want you to play with yourself in the laundry room, and you can't come back in here until you have the feather duster, and you are hard and sticking out of your apron. And not for at least five minutes or so."

Well, I could feel Mr. Johnson cooperating already, and as I walked down the hall looking for the laundry room, I was becoming quite erect. I located the feather duster, and as instructed, began playing with myself in the laundry room. I was already hard, but I had been instructed to do so, and feared that she just might be twisted enough to have hidden cameras, and that they were watching me on the video player in the living room. I also realized that I might have a slight problem in that if I were to keep playing with myself much longer, I would reach an unplanned and unallowed crescendo. So I backed off a little, studying the smoke detector to determine if it was really a camera. I was about as turned on as I had ever been.

Finally I figured about 5 minutes had passed, so my moment of truth was about to happen. Out through the hole was my stiff pecker, and out to the living room I marched, feather duster in hand. I presented myself to the ladies on the couch, and Emma reached up and took my cock in her hand, giving it a nice slow squeeze. "Ooh, that's nice," she said. "Feel it, Joyce."

So Joyce reaches up and takes hold of my ragingly stiff schlong. She gives it a few light strokes. "That is nice," she says. "Nice and thick." "And hard," Emma adds.

"Ok, Joe, we'd like you to dust the dining room and living room, and we want to see that hard cock sticking out of your apron as much as possible. If it starts to go soft, play with it and make it hard again. Start with the dining room."

The dining room was between the kitchen and the living room, so once again, I was behind the girls on the couch, as they faced away from me towards the T.V. The sound came up on the T.V., and I realized that it was not me in the laundry room that they had been watching, but a porno movie with some very enthusiastic actors in the throes of sexual ecstasy. As I dusted the dining room table, I watched the movie, looking between the two girls' heads, which were about two feet apart on the sofa. They were laughing and commenting on the antics of the naked actors and actresses, and really looked like they were enjoying it. I also noticed that the coffee thermos and cups that had been on the coffee table had been replaced by a medium sized paper bag while I had been in the laundry room. I wondered what might be in the bag.

I finished up with the dining room, and moved into the living room, dusting the piano, and the many trinkets on the casual tables. My cock was pointing straight out, and when the girls remarked on what a nice cock that was, I wasn't sure if they were referring to mine or to the one on the screen, which was even thicker and longer than mine!! I was dusting away, and noticed that the girls had fallen silent. On the screen, I saw that a woman was furiously licking away at another woman's dripping pussy. Great close-ups! I looked back at the women on the couch, and they both sat with their eyes transfixed on the screen. Joyce had her arms crossed below her breasts, and was absent-mindedly pinching and rolling her left nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Emma reached down and ran her hand up her own thigh and under her dress. I could see that she was stroking herself, slowly and evenly, as her dress rose and fell with her self-ministrations.

As the women on the screen switched places, with the pleasure respondent now going down on the pleasure giver, Joyce's hand reached over to Emma's thigh. I got the feeling that this may not be the first time these girls had watched a porno together. As I kept dusting the same spot over and over, Joyce began slowly stroking Emma's bare thigh, lifting her dress a little higher with each stroke. She continued to pinch her own nipple, as she slowly worked up the inside of Emma's thigh. Emma removed her own hand from her pussy and spread her legs just a little bit wider, allowing Joyce's hand to find her honey-pot. I could see the look in Emma's eye at the moment that Joyce's hand hit pay dirt. She jerked slightly, her eyes glazed over, and then closed for a moment. "Mmmm," I heard her say quietly.

Joyce now had her right hand moving steadily under Emma's dress, and Emma began to slowly rock, thrusting lightly against each stroke from Joyce's hand. As she did so, she reached over and pulled up Joyce's nightgown to the middle of her thighs, and reached under Joyce's gown. Her hand began working away. Both sat with their eyes fixed on the screen, stroking each other's pussies, which were not visible to me, but clearly audible with a liquid, squishing sound. I dusted away at that spot, Henry straining towards the ceiling.

Joyce began rocking, thrusting her butt up off the couch with each of Emma's strokes. I imagined that digits had disappeared inside Joyce by now, as she continued to pinch away at her nipple, thrusting softly at each of Emma's strokes, and letting her own hand go limp in Emma's crotch.

Finally, Joyce closed her eyes, and lost herself in the moment. Emma began stroking faster, and Joyce began to moan with each stroke. Joyce's face began to contort as her moans came faster and as she bucked harder, and I could see her orgasm in the almost pained look her face took on at that moment. She gasped once or twice, grabbing Emma's hand and pushing and grinding it into her pussy, then holding it there tightly against her womanhood as she slowly returned to this world.

I think by that time the spot was fully dusted, and I was brought out of my reverie by Emma's voice. "Joe, push the coffee table towards the T.V., then get down on your hands and knees and crawl over to right in front of me."

"Right!" I said as I pushed away the coffee table and lowered myself to the floor, the head of my straining prick pointing my way towards Emma. I crawled over to a position directly in front of her, as she sat close to Joyce with her knees held tightly together.

"Are you my good doggie, Joe?" Emma asked.

"Woof, woof, " I barked.

With that, she reached forward and grabbed the paper bag. Out of it she pulled a large red dog collar, which she fastened around my neck. She reached again into the bag, and pulled out a short leash, which she attached to my collar.

Looking over at Joyce, she said, "You hold him while he goes down on me. I don't want him to get away. " With that, she spread her legs, and for the first time I saw the object of my many fantasies. I was happily surprised to see that it was shaved clean, except for a small tuft of hair above her glistening lips.