Chapter Text
When I was young my family moved around a lot, often to remote or back-country places to stay for long periods at a time, so I didn't have a lot of opportunity to make friends, meet boys and all that other normal, healthy stuff that kids do, so I guess I was pretty starved for affection. When I was a young girl my parents bought a pure black, male German Shepherd puppy named Shadow for protection while we lived in another relatively remote area. (My dad insisted that he not be neutered, because he's a real macho man sometimes) I hated that dog! I know it's not how these stories usually go, but I never liked dogs as pets, I hated how hyper they are, how they drool and pant and always want to lick your face and worst of all, the smell of dog breath. I was a bit of a clean freak.
We lived in a couple of RV's so I had my own "room" but I never let Shadow in there. I admitted that he was very cute with his big paws and floppy ears but I insisted I was a cat girl! My parents always encouraged me to take him with me when I walked by myself, which was all the time, and he loved to follow me, romping through the meadows and chasing bugs and whining when he got tired, so slowly I got used to him being around, like a loyal little black shadow. Now I don't know if it was normal for a girl my age in that situation, but around that time I also started getting extremely lonely and bored. I had no friends, tons of free time and only nature to stare at. I retreated into fantasy, read lots of books, daydreamed and fantasized night and day. At some point within a year or so I also started dealing with raging hormones. See, I was a bookworm so I understood what was going on, I never needed any "talk" about what was going on. I had already been buying my own pads and stuff for a long time. But the mood swings and urges were getting so irritating!
I loved to masturbate, but never had an ounce of privacy in the RVs so it was becoming my ritual to take a long walk after breakfast, find a private place to get comfy on a blanket or beach towel, shoo the dog away and get to work. I would come home in a better mood for the day and there was less angst and drama all around. Oh but the fantasies, the heart achingly loneliness of being a teen, fantasizing about romance and being kissed and loved and touched. I wanted to go to a real school and at least have an outlet in study or something. (I wasn't even interested in meeting real boys after a while, I realized the fantasy was probably better than the reality.) It was unbearable, I was depressed a lot but didn't show it. I devoured trashy paperback fantasy novels, and started developing a thing for stories about inter-species romances, elves and humans, centaurs, vampires, and a new thrill... werewolves. I don't even remember the book that I picked up at a drug store on one of our excursions to town, but I remember reading a passage over and over under my covers with a flashlight, about this furry beast taking the female protagonist after several chapters of build up, and creaming my panties and tossing and turning all night until I could escape after breakfast and go get off in the woods.
Around this time, Shadow was used to escorting me and keeping watch from a safe distance while I tended to my "issues." I was glad too, he would let me know if anyone was nearby and saved me from embarrassing encounters with hikers a couple times. He was also getting BIG. It was like having a big, black wolf following me everywhere. I even imagined he was my own werewolf bodyguard, and yet I still never made that connection in my mind. Until one angst-ladden, chilly spring night that is.
Shadow was over a year old I think, and I was miserable. We were still in the same place because of my Dad's work and I spent a long winter indoors doing home school courses or outside by myself romping through the snow and building snowmen where nobody would ever see them. My parents fought constantly, I had no place to escape it other than outside. So even at night I would sometimes run out and shiver in the woods and cry and stare at the moon and have deep, angsty fantasies about some beautiful, loving fantasy creature discovering me and taking me off to his realm where we would have really poorly written adventures together and my family would be so very sorry.
It was one of those nights, when I forgot to take something warm to wear, that I tearfully decided that Shadow, even though he was an icky dog, was my only real friend and pulled him close, both because I was cold and needed something to hug. Of course the first thing he tried to do was start licking my face and I started to push him away as usual. But this time I was in such a "fuck it" mood that I thought "what the hell, so what if I smell like dog breath, it's not like I have to smell nice for anyone out here" and let him kiss my face. (But not my lips, I was still squeamish about dog saliva and was worried I might get diseased or something.) I remember laughing despite being sad, it was ticklish being licked, and his tongue was like warm, wet velvet. I realized that if I had a werewolf lover he would probably kiss me the same way, and I closed my eyes, hugged his furry body close and tilted my neck, letting him nuzzle and lick my neck and cheeks. He was so incredibly gentle now that I was not pushing him away, he really seemed to be trying to comfort me, and as I imagined I was being kissed by my fantasy beast lover, my whole body tingled in an entirely new way, it was exciting and made the pit of my stomach knot up in that peculiar tension that I got from imagining kissing a boy. I had never even had a boyfriend at this point, but for the first time I felt like someone really desired me. But eventually he got tired of licking my face and neck and laid down on top of me, breathing over my mouth. I stroked his big, warm head and got sad all over again because I realized it was the first real physical affection I'd gotten from anyone since before I grew boobs and my parents stopped cuddling me.
I slipped back inside the RV my mother and I shared, got into bed and couldn't sleep. I smelled his breath on me, I could still feel his mouth and teeth on my neck and jaw, and worst of all, I was wet. I had to take care of this distraction or I couldn't sleep, and as soon as I was done I was overwhelmed with shame and felt incredibly dirty, so I got back out of bed, cleaned my whole body with damp washcloths and shakily climbed back under my covers.
But the next day I woke up with a new feeling, a strange new excitement for something that actually took me a long time to figure out what it was. I got kissed... sort of. I know it's silly, but I was bored out of my mind, so the idea that I could fantasize about my fantasy boyfriend while being kissed all over my neck by a real, live warm mouth was almost unbearably thrilling. I went out to one of my usual secluded spots, this time actually encouraging Shadow to follow, and I called him close when I knew we were alone and embraced him again, this time running my hands over his body and fantasizing deeply while he excitedly licked me all over my face, neck and upper chest. He got bored after a while and wandered off, leaving me with my heart pounding like a jackhammer, looking around nervously and feeling strangely guilty even as I dug my hand down my jeans and worked myself to a very fast, very wet climax. This little session became a ritual we did a few times a week when weather allowed, and at one point I swore it was really bordering on something wrong and bad and extremely sinful, and I promised myself I would stop, but I rationalized that it was just innocent puppy affection, that it didn't bother the dog that I enjoyed it, and that it's not like I was really making out with a dog, just playing around. Besides, it wasn't like Shadow was going to tell anyone what I did!
These little things become a really big deal when you're a lonely, bored teenager. Shadow loved having someone to kiss and he loved it immensely when I cuddled him and stroked his fur, and even though I felt ashamed that I enjoyed it at first, I soon relished in having something that was all mine and mine alone.
By summer I was taking Shadow out almost every other day to my favorite comfortable spots, letting him lick my face and snuggle on top of me while I laid on my back, touching myself with my other hand (while clothed.) I actually felt safer this way with his body partially covering me. I figured if someone spotted me from a distance they wouldn't see anything other than a girl cuddling her dog. Not too weird, right? I loved the feel of his body weight on me, his nuzzles and little kisses he would plant on my face. My fantasies involved more and more animal-like characters making love to me. And I also realized that when I imagined them having that distinct, hot, doggy breath that it turned me on even more. I was getting hooked on the smell of a big male dog, it felt so forbidden to even think such things that it made my heart and stomach flutter. So imagine how erotic it felt when he started getting curious about what was going on down between my legs while we cuddled. I'm sure he could smell me when I was wet, he sometimes pushed his nose against my crotch really hard, making me yelp out loud and shoo him away, but even after he left I could still feel the lingering memory of that warm "whuf" of his breath pushing through my jeans or shorts. I dared to let myself imagine what that tongue would feel like on my body, if he would kiss my pussy as gently and lovingly as he did my face, and what that long, wide slippery tongue would feel like. Oh gawd, it was so wrong to imagine, it made my body curl up like a spring being wound up. When I thought about it I would get nervous and paranoid, it felt so very dangerous, I worried I would be punished by God for just imagining it. But for some reason I didn't care, I was beginning to have doubts about my religious upbringing.