A few years ago, in Another Life, I was dating a wild, reckless red-haired chick named Dahlia. One night, while waiting for Dahlia to finish getting ready for our date, I was kicking back in her Living Room, drinking a beer, and playing with my Dog, “Lady”. Upon finishing my beer, I proceeded to the Kitchen to fetch another. That’s when Dahlia sprung from her Bedroom and tackled me. She wrestled me to the floor, pulled off my slacks, and began to, um, fellate me. So there I was, lying on my back in the hallway, enjoying this absolutely spectacular fellacio. I felt this really odd, sort of kinky-wet sensation on my testicles, so I said “I don’t know what you’re doing, Dahlia, but it feels really good…” and looked down at her - AND MY DOG!!! Lady had crept up under her and was licking my testicles while she was fellating me. “OH MY GOD!!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!?” I screamed, as I quickly scampered away from them. Dahlia laughed and told me she didn’t realize the dog was there. It was a lie. I knew it. She knew it. She knew that I knew it. We sat and stared at one another for a moment. She grinned at me. I was horror-stricken. She stood up and said “Put your pants on, Winston. I’m ready to go.” When we broke up a few months later, I let her keep the dog.
God I miss that ______. (Dopers - fill in the blank).
We had a kitten, years ago, that interrupted a marital moment in a similar way. I couldn’t understand why my husband suddenly yelped. It kinda spoiled the mood, but we had a laugh anyway.
_______ = foot long dildo with the kickstart motor.
Well, that’s not so bad. From the thread title, I was imaging you *liked/i] it.
_________ = beer.
_____ = Lady
snicker I love double entendres.
Enjoy,
Steven
______ = bitch
- Bubba
_____= Mo-fo-ho
_____ = beer.
This is a poll, right?..
[sub]…scuttles abashedly into the night…[/sub]
Sounds like we’ve dated the same person 
You poor bastard. I hope you got out with your dignity intact.
No habla Fonzi.
I’ve had cat interuptions but nothing that I would consider accidental beastiality.
This is a perfect place to share my accidental bestiality story. Emphasis on “accidental”.
Once upon a time, in college, I had a little black and white male kitty named Fishbone. Fishbone had a people-hair fetish. He would climb on the shoulders of anyone who had at least shoulder length hair, dig his claws into their skull, knead and purr like nothin’ you’ve ever seen. As soon as you sat down in my house, Fishbone would be on your shoulder, face buried in your neck by your ears.
So one afternoon, I’m laying on my back on the couch, watching TV. Fishbone was laying across my chest, with his claws in my head, purring his fuzzy tail off. Suddenly, he got my attention when he started kicking me with his back feet. I picked him up to try to find out why he started kicking.
His kitty-peetie (penis) was all erect and as I picked him up… he shot his wad… straight over my head.
Pause to let people spew coffee on their monitors…
I screamed (yiped is more like it) and tossed him across the room. He didn’t care, having been satisfied…
I never saw him do that to anyone else, nor did he ever do that to me again. These days, I wrap my pets in latex before I pet them.
Dunno if this counts, but early in my career,(pre-living quarters of my own.) I was indulging in some pantsless (and shirtless) frolicking on the living room floor at my boyfriend’s house. We were supposed to be watching the dogs (two yappety rat-dogs, but they were sweet, kinda) until dinner or some such. Anyway, we hear his brother coming home, and try as quick as bunnies to get into our respective clothes. The pants went “ziip” the shirt went “fumble-whoosh” and the brassiere…hmmm, yeah, not so much. We found its tattered remains when one of the dogs came trotting in with red satin and lace wrapped around its head.
The aftermath of explaining to my mother why I needed to borrow my boyfriend’s very, very thick sweater in June was hysterical.
Dunno if this counts, but early in my career,(pre-living quarters of my own.) I was indulging in some pantsless (and shirtless) frolicking on the living room floor at my boyfriend’s house. We were supposed to be watching the dogs (two yappety rat-dogs, but they were sweet, kinda) until dinner or some such. Anyway, we hear his brother coming home, and try as quick as bunnies to get into our respective clothes. The pants went “ziip” the shirt went “fumble-whoosh” and the brassiere…hmmm, yeah, not so much. We found its tattered remains when one of the dogs came trotting in with red satin and lace wrapped around its head. The dog proceeds over to the older brother and begins humping his leg wearing my brassiere. Damn dog!
The aftermath of explaining to my mother why I needed to borrow my boyfriend’s very, very thick sweater in June was hysterical.
Dunno if this counts, but early in my career,(pre-living quarters of my own.) I was indulging in some pantsless (and shirtless) frolicking on the living room floor at my boyfriend’s house. We were supposed to be watching the dogs (two yappety rat-dogs, but they were sweet, kinda) until dinner or some such. Anyway, we hear his brother coming home, and try as quick as bunnies to get into our respective clothes. The pants went “ziip” the shirt went “fumble-whoosh” and the brassiere…hmmm, yeah, not so much. We found its tattered remains when one of the dogs came trotting in with red satin and lace wrapped around its head. The dog proceeds over to the older brother and begins humping his leg wearing my brassiere. Damn dog!
The aftermath of explaining to my mother why I needed to borrow my boyfriend’s very, very thick sweater in June was hysterical.
Last Tuesday, a monkey flew out my butt. I can’t say it was altogether unenjoyable.
______ = butt kisser.