” I offered my hand which he sniffed. Then unexpectedly he put his muzzle under my dress. I gave a little shriek and jumped back. David scolded the ...og but his voice wasn’t genuinely serious. I giggled too. I guess it was an ice breaking moment. We sat on the sofa drinking our coffee and chatted. I was more talkative now, using my feminine voice. I sipped my drink, smiled, played with my hair, jewellery and the hem of my dress, crossed and uncrossed my legs, dangled my shoes. In short behaved. Over the years, I've had quite a number of fantasy lovers. Marianne, with the big breasts and round, bouncy ass. Many's the time I bounced off it as I plowed into her from behind. Ginette, the intellectual, who liked to talk about English literature and Renaissance architecture, but was a red-hot maniac in bed. She would climb atop me and ride for hours, conjugating irregular Latin verbs and pumping me in the same rhythm. Theresa, the madonna, who swore she would have become a nun if only she. More

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