Being owned – Part 5
Holding my bouncing tits with my hands I was running towards my bungalow. The sun was already setting. I might be late for the first time. “Damn,” I swore as I stumbled on the uneven path. Panting I stopped, pressed a hand to the sting in my side. Out of shape, that’s what I was. Not far now. I moved on, just a slow jog now. It had been a beautiful day. After the morning dog fuck and the cleaning up I had wandered outside. Walking over the grounds I had met the dogs. All of them were running free like me at the moment. They were playing and I had watched them from the edge of the meadow. All ten of them were clearly enjoying themselves, the Irish Wolfhound in the lead. Without thinking …