The big dog lay on all four paws by the side of the sofa, his longish tongue hanging out, glistening with moisture. When his sensitive ears caught Laura Saunders' lilting young voice on the telephone, his head jerked up attentively, and a rush of blood flooded his throbbing animal loins. Rover liked the tall, lushly molded young blonde, and whenever he saw her, or heard her throaty voice and gay, happy laugh in the Franklin home, his nostrils flared and it was all he could do to control himself.

But Rover was a well-trained dog, and he would never have dreamed of mounting Laura Saunders without being properly cued. Indeed, everything in him would have rebelled against it. He had been brought up to respond to specific commands and cue words. Despite his menacing appearance, Rover was an animal who never lost control of himself. And, thanks to the Franklins, elegant coaching, this seemed to pay dividends in the long run. The Franklins knew how to work women up until they were ready for him, and he was happy to rely upon their superior judgment.

"Was that Laura Saunders again?" Mark asked pleasantly, continuing to stroke Rover's deeply furred neck while pulling slowly on his own hotly throbbing organ.

Cleonora smiled. "It was," she said, lighting a cigarette. She sat down on the couch next to her husband and passed the cigarette to him. Glancing down she saw that the slightest amount of shining clear pre-cum had issued from the tip of his penis, and she licked her lips in lusty anticipation. She could almost taste Mark's cum on her tongue. It was a drink she almost never tired of quaffing.

"Is that for me or for Laura?" she asked, not even faintly jealous.

"For Rover here," Mark told her, pinching the big dog's throat fur in his fingers. "He gives me more than the both of you put together."