It wasn't really wicked, she assured herself. Looking at him was not much more naughty than thinking about him – and that was certainly all that she intended to do. To her credit, Valerie really believed that. And, in case there were any doubts in her mind, she actually said it aloud.
"I'll just look at his cock," she said.
Then, as if reassured, she nodded.
She was no pervert. She was not depraved. She would never actually do anything with an animal… she thought.
CHAPTER THREE
Michelle Warden heard her husband's footsteps on the steps and then moving across the porch, and she wondered why his gait sounded so unsteady. He seemed to be staggering. She hoped he hadn't driven himself to the point of exhaustion as he chopped the firewood.
Then he entered the cabin and she saw why his stride had been unsteady. It was anything but exhaustion.
His hard-on was so huge that the fucking thing was almost throwing him off balance. The front of his jeans jutted out with a great, throbbing lump of cockmeat that was threatening to rip right through the fabric of his pants.
He halted just inside the door.
The two well-drained dogs looked up from where they were curled in the corner and wagged their tails feebly in greeting to their master.
He glanced down at them, noticing how slimy the heads of their pricks were and how their hairy cocksheaths were matted with cunt cream. It didn't bother him at all. He turned his gaze on his wife, and Michelle smiled.
"You got the fucking ax jammed down the front of your pants, or what?" she said, with a certain indelicacy of phrase common to her.
Dick grinned and pulled his zipper down, having some difficulty tugging it over the cock-bulge. His fly gaped open in a wedge and his cock came leaping out like a heat-seeking guided missile. Michelle's eyes widened. It was a cock that she knew well but seldom had she seen it this big and hard. The sight caused the core of her fuck-hole to tremble.