Doin’ It Doggy Style (Mandy Diary Entry 7)

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Dear Diary,

I think my pussy got attacked by a Rottweiler.

Not like I tried to burglarize a house and was halfway over the perimeter fence when someone yelled, “Sick her!”

No, it’s not that exciting. And it’s hard to climb fences in heels.  

His name was Sergio, a big, handsome, but slightly hairy Russian guy. I met him at a fast food drive-thru, when he paid for my food. First, he blocked my car in so he could deliver it himself.

Cute right?

Turned out that way. At first I was just pissed because I was hungry and I was really in the mood for some curly fries and some douchebag wouldn’t move his car. Boy did I feel bad after.

So we went out three times and he was a perfect gentleman. He brought me flowers to my door and dressed the part of a man trying to court a woman. Guys these days, for the most part, don’t seem to understand that we women want to be treated like ladies. Yes, we want to be freaks in the sheets, but you need to get us into the sheets first and it ain’t gonna happen by feeding us Sloppy Joes at your best buddy’s weekly dominos game while you’re wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a T-shirt you got free for drinking eighty-nine Mountain Dews.

Sorry…that was the date I went on before Sergio. Needless to say that guy didn’t get any.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the typical country singer looking good ol’ boy. I like a pair of worn out jeans with a backwards ball cap as much as the next girl. But every once in a while I like to be wined and dined.

Sergio definitely did his part.

I remember our first dinner together. He sat across from me at an Italian restaurant, telling me about his family back home. Thick black hair stuck out of the top of his dress shirt. He had it unbuttoned a few buttons and I kept thinking he might drop a hair into his food.

Ewww. I know.

But I’m not kidding, the man was hot. Sexy…manly…strong-man kind of hot. Not the young California stud with ripped Abercrombie-model kind of muscles but like the kind of man who could work on heavy machinery or handle a farm. The kind of man who could plow the fields then come home and…plow your field if you know what I mean.

So as much as the hair was bothering me, I couldn’t wait to have him on top of me, fucking me like he was trying to heat up a cold war and my pussy was the button that would launch the nukes if he just applied enough pressure.

Yes, for fuck’s sake I’m a hornball. We’ve established this fact. Don’t act like you don’t want a serious pounding from time to time. You read my stories because you are JUST LIKE ME. Every woman, even the prim and proper, secretly wish they could just lie back, spread their legs, and be fucked into oblivion.

Am I right or am I wrong?

That’s what I thought!

Ok, so back to my story. We didn’t fuck after that first dinner. He took me home, kissed me on my hand, and bid me farewell. I remember being stunned when he got into his car and drove away. It was odd. Like I’d just been visited by an alien from outer-fucking-space. Yet, even aliens do a little probing right?

I’d gone on a date with a guy who hadn’t begged to come inside?

And that aggravated the hell out of me. Then came date number two. He took me out for a walk along the ocean where we ate ice cream and held hands like those cute couples you always see and wonder if his wife knows he’s out with her. I was that chick we all think is the mistress. And as I watched him eat his ice cream cone, I found myself checking him out like a teenage boy watching a classmate suck down a Popsicle.

The way his lips pursed at the top of the creamy treat, bringing the tip to a fine point. Then he licked his lips.

I was wet. That’s all it took. Well that and the thought that he hadn’t tried to fuck me the last time. I wanted some Sergio. When he swirled his tongue around the frozen concoction, I couldn’t help imagining his tongue dancing around my pussy before settling on my clit with those pursed lips.

Fuck, I’m getting horny again now just thinking about it.

If you’ve never done it, watch your man eat ice cream. He’s watching you so don’t worry about it. Watch each other, eye to eye, showing off your oral sex tricks on an innocent dessert. Then take him home and sixty-nine the shit out of him.

Sorry, people, forgive me for my dirty mouth. I don’t mean to be so vulgar. I just can’t go long without sex. As I get later into my thirties I find myself thinking more and more like a teenage girl who just lost her virginity.

So back to my story—no more tangents I promise. Ok, I’ll try to stay on track…I can’t really promise.

Sergio. Sergio. Sergio.

He didn’t fuck me that second night either. Instead, when he dropped me off he kissed me on the lips.

“Would you like to come inside?” I asked.

“I would love to,” he replied.

“Great.”

“But I won’t.”

What the fuck? That’s exactly what ran through my mind and it was sheer speechlessness that stopped it from leaking out of my mouth.  

I guess my dropped jaw gave me away because he laughed and continued.

“I won’t come in because you have no idea what I want to do to you.”

His Russian accent drove me wild and I wanted him to do whatever it was he wanted to do with me.

“You can show me,” I replied.

“This will not mean much to you,” he said, “But my mother once tell me you never force woman into bed. You kiss her hand. You kiss her lips. Then, if you don’t scare her away, you kiss other things.”

“Wow, your mama was very…” I wanted to say very much cock blocking me but I went with, “organized.”

“Yes, she was wonderful woman. But I like this rule of hers and think it will make for good respect for beautiful woman like you.”

Ohhhh I so wanted to jump his bones. But I agreed. I accepted his proposal for kissing other things on the next date and proceeded to go upstairs and call him to set up our next date…for tomorrow.

That day we had another great date and then he finally came to my apartment.

He kissed my knuckles. He kissed my lips. Then he kissed other things. His lips were soft but hungry. He started at my ears and nibbled all the way down my neck where he pulled my shirt up over my head.

He kissed down my chest where he unfastened my bra.

His shirt fell to the floor just as my bra did and something about his hairy chest was so fucking incredibly sexy. I’m not really one who’s for or against a lot of hair. Each man has his own unique qualities and Sergio carried this look really well.

As my tits sprang free of my bra, he eagerly took one in his mouth. And this was the first time I heard it. It started out as a soft hum and then turned into a sort of deep throated growl. Almost like when your dog has your shoe in his mouth and he won’t let go. Well my left tit was the shoe.

It felt really good though so I just did my best to ignore the sound.

“Arrrr, rarrr, garr, grrarrar.”

You should hear me right now trying to imitate his growl. I know I sound ridiculous. Try it. Out loud. Good, we’re on the same page. We sound like a bunch of horny cave women or something.

With my tit in his mouth, I was still incredibly turned on. The way he cradled me, holding my back in one of his big, strong paws and clutching my ass with his other, pulling my ass cheeks open a little like he wanted my pussy to feel what was coming.

Then he dropped down, dragging his tongue down my stomach the way he’d licked his ice cream cone. His mouth found my skirt and tugged it down halfway. I helped him with the other half and didn’t hesitate yanking my panties down. I wanted him to take me in his mouth.

He started at my hip but I was too fucking eager after all the following of mamas rules and having to wait for this moment. So I lifted one foot up on the end table, gripped my couch, and sat my pussy right down on his face. I was in the standing position, crouched down over his big, square, manly fucking jaw.

And he dove right in.

The sound of satisfaction that came from his throat shook and vibrated my pussy and without even realizing it I found myself kind of singing out in a shaky voice. Kind of like an “AhhAHHAhhh.” Higher and lower and higher and lower and I was THIS fucking close to shouting out, “The hills are alive with the sound of…”

But then I heard him. He may be, at this moment, writing a similar article about the crazy chick he ate out the other night that thought she was Liza fucking Minelli belting out a pussy quivering chorus.

But this guy. He was attacking me again. And now my pussy was the shoe. I even jerked back a little and he shook his face like a fucking Rottweiler or something.

I was so tempted to say, “Who’s a good boy? Let mama have the ball.”

The more I bucked my hips, because let’s face it no amount of growling was going to take away from the fact that he was tonguing my pussy with a strange starvation that was driving me wild, the louder he got.

Then, like one of the strongmen in one of those TV competitions trying to hoist a ship anchor, he lifted my entire body up into the air, slammed me down onto the couch, and dug his face into me even harder. I whooped. I hollered. I screamed so fucking loud I thought someone might call the fire department.

 

Surely the girl in apartment 303 has to be on fire.

Banging came from the apartment below, either they were checking on me, or they were just answering back in Morse code as I’d been slapping the carpet with an open palm.

Sergio made me come so fucking hard tears fell from my eyes.

He stopped and I hoped he was going to whip his dick out. But he didn’t. He dropped to his knees by my side and said, “Why you cry?”

“I cry because…you’re so…I just…I mean…I love your mama.”

Why I said that I don’t know.

That’s when he stood, adjusted his rock hard cock in his pants, and retrieved his shirt.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Speaking of mama. Good three dates. We have sex next date?”

“Wait…what?”

Another one of his mother’s rules. No real sex until a more serious union has been established. Well I’m not that kind of girl.

So long, Sergio.

Thanks for reading.

If you’d like to read more of my stories please check out my wild night at the carnival in Kinky Carnival Games or my sexy trip to Cancun in Margaritas by Moonlight, both on Amazon. Keep your eyes open for my upcoming novella that sees me heading to my twenty-year high school reunion in Slippery When Wet, Maybe Mandy 3.

And if you want to read some more of these free Mandy diary entries, just click on Mandy Diaries on the website, eroticmayberry dot com.

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