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Introduction:

This is a true story ashamedly related to me by my Mum.
I was born in 1956 and grew up in a very stable and loving

environment with my Mum (32) and Dad (45), who were both

devout Christians, and my elder sister Mary (3). We lived just outside

central London in a 4 bed detached house. My Dad had a well-paid

job with the civil service and was also a keen gardener, amateur

photographer and DIY’er. My Mum was a housewife who worked

part time for ‘pin money’ and excelled in cooking and dressmaking.

As kids we always had lots of pets – cats, dogs, rabbits etc.

Our idyllic life suddenly came to an abrupt end when I was 12 and

my Dad suffered a stroke became and could no longer work.

Subsequently my parents had to downsize and we moved into a much

smaller 3 bed semi with a tiny garden. We had to give most of our

pets away but we were allowed to keep our newly acquired 12 week

old puppy ‘Blackie’ a black Labrador.

My Dad gradually recovered from his illness, though never fully, and

was only able to do limited tasks. Over the months he did a lot of work

on the house and tried to involve me, but at that age all I wanted to do

was kick a ball around in the park or hang out with my mates.

My Dad tragically died of a heart attack when I was 15. Looking back now,

I realize that 60 years was no life at all, although at the time he just

seemed like an old man to me.

I turned eighteen in 1974, met a girl, got her pregnant, got married and

moved out. My sister eventually found her ideal job at an animal rescue

sanctuary in Cornwall and moved there a few years later.

My spinster aunt, Anne, Mums elder sister moved in not long after.

15 years later (1989)

Mum, now in her mid-60’s, decided she wanted to move down to

Cornwall to be nearer my sister and asked if I’d come over at some

time to clear the loft in preparation for the move. We fixed a date for

the upcoming weekend and I arranged to borrow a mates van to

make life easier.

I picked up the van Saturday morning and drove over to Mums

around 10:30’ish. Apart from a bit of decorating I’d done over the

years the house was basically how my Dad had left it.

(The following dialogue is not word for word, but roughly what was said)

Mum greeted me at the door.

“Hi Pete” she said, reaching up to kiss me on the cheek, “Thanks for doing this for me, there’s no way I could get in the loft. Fancy a cuppa before you start?”

She made the tea and fetched a plate of biscuits.

“Any idea of what’s up there?” I asked.

“I know your Dad sort of fixed it up to be a dark room when he was doing his photography. But I only poked my head through the hatch once and there seems to be quite a bit up there.”

I finished my tea and hunted round for the pole to unlatch the hatch and pulled the homemade loft ladder down. It was a bit on the flimsy side but it adequately took my weight as I ascended it.

I felt round for a light switch and found it just inside the loft opening. I don’t why I was so surprised, but when I turned it on the loft was illuminated in a red light making it look like an untidy whore’s bedroom.

I went and got a 100watt light bulb and soon the loft was exposed in all its glory. There wasn’t a great deal up there. The rafters had been partially boarded, enough to accommodate a homemade workbench with drawers and a chair. There were a few boxes to one side which I made a start on and carried down to the landing where Mum was waiting.

“What’s it like up there?” she enquired, “Bad is it?”

“No it’s fine” I replied opening the first of the boxes.

“Ooo, they’re all yours and Mary’s old toys” she cooed.

The other boxes contained old clothes, various ornaments that had gone out of fashion and basically junk. Mum sorted through the bits she wanted to keep and I loaded the rest into the van.

On the next trip I brought down the contents of the work top which was all photography equipment. Trays, bottles of fixing fluids, various other bits that I had no idea of what they were, and finally what I thought might be a photo enlarger.

Mum said she had no interest in any of it and that I could keep it or chuck it. I decided to bin it and carried it all down to the van.

“Were getting there slowly” I said as I went back up.

I opened the first of the three drawers. It was full of maybe 200 black and white photos. At first glance they appeared to be mostly of our family or building, flowers, sunsets and landscapes etc, and I carried it down.

“They look interesting” said Mum, reaching for the photos.

“Put the kettle on Mum and we’ll go through them.” I said.

I took the drawer down to the living room and waited for Mum. When she arrived with the tea we spent the next hour or so reminiscing over the treasure trove of old photos that neither of us had ever seen before.

“Back to work” I said, “Just a couple more drawers, a chair and the workbench to break down. It shouldn’t take long.”

The next drawer contained Dad’s old Kodak camera and a couple of empty photo albums which Mum decided to keep. The bottom drawer was empty.

I returned with a hammer and screwdriver to dismantle the workbench and discovered that after the bottom drawer had been removed it revealed a void underneath containing a fairly thick brown envelope. Intrigued, I emptied the contents onto the work top.

“Fuck me” I thought. There had to be over twenty B&W photos of a woman being licked or fucked by a black dog. Unfortunately none of them showed her face though. That is until I got down to the last one which was a shot of the woman looking back over her shoulder with her face plastered with cum. It was only then that I realized it was my Mum in the photos.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My Mum was a very prim and proper lady and I’d always believed that being a Christian that she was a prude. In fact thinking about it I’d never even heard her swear.

I’d never thought of my Mum sexually before and had certainly never seen her naked. But seeing her in these pictures I realized what a beautiful woman she had been.

I pulled up the chair and spread out the photos on the work top, sat down, got my cock out and started masturbating.

I was so preoccupied that I hadn’t heard Mum call up to see if everything was o.k.? and I was absolutely mortified when her head appeared the loft opening and shrieked “Peter, what in hells name do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m so sorry Mum” I blurted out, quickly shielding myself from her and trying to get my rapidly shrinking cock back inside my jeans.

“Peter you’d better come down now, you’ve got some explaining to do.” She said sternly.

I knew I was really in trouble as she only ever called me Peter and not Pete when I’d done something wrong. It felt like I was a misbehaved child again. I snatched up the photos and put them in my back pocket, thinking that these were definitely going home with me.

Mum was waiting for me in the living room, arms folded across her chest and her left foot tapping on the carpet. “Well Peter, explain yourself.”

For such a diminutive woman, she was only just over five feet tall, she still had the ability to strike the fear of god in me. “I’m sorry Mum” was all I could say hoping she would accept my apology and just drop it.

But she wouldn’t. “I shouldn’t have to witness that behaviour in my own home. What sort of pervert are you that you’d let your own Mother see you doing that? And at your age”

“I’m sorry Mum.” I replied. While all the time thinking please please stop.

“You’ve really embarrassed me” she continued, her voice shifting up a pitch. “I should’ve named you Peter the pervert. That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

I’m not sure how I got the courage to answer her back. I think something inside just snapped and I said “Are you sure Mother?”

“How dare you talk back to me?” she yelled, “I ought to take my hand to you.”

As kids both Mary and I had felt the sting of Mum’s hand on the back of our legs, and that had always been enough for us not to repeat what we had been punished for.

“Before you do that” I replied, now full of bravado. “You might have some explaining to do yourself.”

“What the hell are you babbling on about?”

I’d never in a million years do anything to hurt my Mum and I didn’t want to hurt her then when I pulled the photos out of my back pocket and handed them to her.

“You might want to see these” I said in a calm voice. “Before you start casting aspersions.”

I thought Mum was going to faint when she went all white and I had to help her sit down before she fell over.

“Where did you get these?” she asked meekly as she started to cry.

“They were hidden upstairs in the loft.”

“Your Dad told me the camera didn’t have any film in it.” she said between sobs. “I didn’t know they even existed. Oh Pete, what must you think of me?”

Back to calling me Pete, that’s a good sign, I thought.

“I think you know what I think of you by what I was doing in the loft.”

“But I’m your Mother Pete.”

“You may be my Mother but you’re also an attractive woman. And that you were having sex with a dog was so erotic.”

“You’re so much like your Dad.” She said wiping her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t think badly of me?”

“I love you so much Mum, and admire you even more. You said I was like Dad, was it him that made you do it? I mean, what I’m curious to know is how it all started?”

“Well seeing that you’ve already seen the evidence, and there’s no point in my denying it actually happened, I suppose I could tell you the whole story. BUT…. This stays between you and me, right?”

I readily nodded my agreement and asked if I should put the kettle on.

“I think something stronger might be called for, there’s a bottle of brandy and some glasses in the cabinet, be a dear Pete and do the honours.”

I poured two glasses and sat at the other end of the settee facing Mum waiting in anticipation for her to begin.

Taking a fairly big swallow of brandy, possibly for Dutch courage, she looked me in the eyes and said “Here goes.”

“I think I’d just turned 46. I remember it was after your Dad first got ill and we’d moved here. You and Mary were still attending school. I’d just gotten out of the bath one evening, and wrapped in a towel I was bending over picking up my clothes from the bathroom floor when I felt something cold and wet touching by bottom. The next instant I felt a tongue running up my privates and over my bottom. I whipped round quickly to see Blackie, our Labrador with what I can only describe as a smile on his face and his tail wagging twenty to the dozen.”

“I think I might have shouted at the dog because a few seconds later your Dad appeared at the door and asked what was wrong. I told him what had happened and all he could do was laugh. He said he wished that he had been there to see it.”

“When we were in bed your Dad asked me outright if I would let the dog lick me? I let him know in no uncertain terms that that was never going to happen. However when I went to sleep I dreamt about the dog licking me, and like most dreams it felt so real. I woke up and my heart was hammering and I was highly aroused. I decided there and then that I’d confront your Dad in the morning and see if he meant what he said about wishing he had seen it.”

Mum took another swallow of brandy and continued.

“Your Dad was overjoyed and asked if he could capture it all on camera. I agreed, but only if the photos didn’t show my face. We arranged for it to take place the following Wednesday afternoon as I only worked a half day and you and Mary would be in school.”

“When the day finally arrived I was paranoid that all the people I passed on my way back from work could tell what I was about to do. The feeling got so bad that by the time I got home I wanted to call it off. Your Dad had a cup of tea ready for me and we chatted for a while and I eventually calmed down.”

“Your Dad asked whether I still wanted to go through with it, and when I said yes he gave me a huge smile and went and got his camera.”

Mum drained the rest of her brandy and asked for another. Looking me in the eyes she asked “Are you sure you want me to continue Pete? You won’t be able to unhear what I tell you.”

Reaching over to hold her hand, “I want to know; in fact I’m dying to know. Please, please, please carry on.” I begged.

Mum smiled then continued.

“I removed my shoes, tights and underwear and got down on all fours with my bottom in the air and my head resting on my arms. Your Dad lifted my skirt up over my bottom then went to the back door to let the dog in. I was physically trembling with anticipation.”

“Blackie came bounding in, saw me on the floor and licked my face briefly then moved round me and sniffed at my privates. I could hear your Dad take a picture then wind the film on ready for the next exposure. I then felt Blackie bury his cold wet nose between my buttocks as he began licking wildly at me.

I moved my knees further apart to allow him better access and within seconds experienced my first ever orgasm.”

Mum blushed and looked at me again. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” She said as she took another drink. “It must be dreadful for you to hear what I let a dog do to me.”

“Mum” I said, tightly squeezing her hand. “I think you might have to go back to calling me ‘Peter the pervert’ because this is so exciting.”

Mum let go of my hand and continued. “I don’t know why, but I expected Blackie just to carry on licking me. What I didn’t expect, nor had I even thought about was what he did next.”

“He must have got bored with licking me, because the next thing I know he mounted me. I was so wet that he just slipped straight in, and ‘Je-sus’ was he big.”

“I was shocked at first and tried to struggle out from under him but he had his front legs tightly wrapped around my waist and was going at me twenty to the dozen. I could hear your Dad clicking away with his camera, the entire time laughing and saying ‘Atta boy Blackie’, and I eventually stopped struggling when I realized that I was actually enjoying it.”

“You have to realize that I hadn’t had sex for over 2 years. When your Dad first became ill the medication they gave him stopped him getting an erection and he eventually lost his sex drive completely.”

“Imagine my surprise, and delight” she continued, “When he unbuttoned his trousers and offered his erect penis to my mouth. Although nowhere near the size of Blackie’s I happily accepted it, and in under a minute your Dad climaxed on my face.”

“Blackie was still humping me from behind and I was starting to feel a little sore and I asked your Dad to get him off me. Blackie bared his teeth and snarled but was no match for your Dad as he grabbed him by the collar and put him back out in the garden.”

“I remained in the same position for a few minutes, exhausted but fulfilled, I eventually regained my breath, if not my dignity and composed myself.”

“I remember your Dad saying ‘Well that was a waste of time.’

Thinking that I’d actually upset him I began to cry.

‘No not you love; I forgot to load the camera with film.’

”I was secretly pleased, and I told your Dad ‘you had your chance, that was definitely a once in a lifetime thing.’

We expressed our undying love for each other and your Dad went and ran me a bath and made me a cup of tea. I had literally just sat down in the bath when I heard your voice downstairs, apparently you had been caught smoking at school and had been sent home. I would have died if you’d been 10 minutes earlier.”

“Oh my God, Mum” I said my eyes wide and my mouth hanging open. “I certainly remember the tongue lashing you gave me about smoking, but I can’t believe I almost caught you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. It’s humiliating enough that you know about it now.” she said “I couldn’t see you keeping a secret like that then at your age.”

“So that was your experience with a dog?” I asked, not trying to hide my amazement.

The truthful ending to this story is yes, that was her one and only encounter with a dog (That she told me about anyway, though I'd like to think there were more.). Mum died when she was 83 and up to then we never spoke about it again, although I often fantasized about it.

The FANTASY ending might go a bit like this ……..

“So that was your experience with a dog?” I asked, not trying to hide my amazement.

“That was the first” answered Mum, her face glowing bright red. I had many more after your Dad died. Your Aunty Anne also became involved after she moved in with me and caught me in the act one day.”

“Fuck me” I said exasperated, “I suppose you’re going to tell me my sister does it too?”

“Not with dogs no. Horses are more her thing” answered Mum coyly, “that’s why your Aunt and I are moving in with her.”

(I’m more than happy to share my fantasy with you. Just let me know if you're interested.)
1 comments

Trib FanReport 

2021-12-30 12:33:07
Personally not into beastiality....
Also, hypocrites like 'mom' bother me....
Sorry....

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