June sky clear over the Bordeaux-Barcelona highway rest stop. Golfech nuclear plant steams in the distance. I open my Ford Fusion’s back door. Momo bolts out, gray fur flashing, short muzzle sniffing freedom. No leash. Shit. He zigzags between parked cars, vacationers maneuvering carelessly. Heart pounds.
Young guy, Romain, law student, steps off the bus. Sunglasses on, rushing to the shop for his girl Karine in Perpignan. Momo charges, barking. Romain freezes. Bites his calf, bermuda exposing skin. Blood. I scream, ‘Momo, here!’ Too late. Hunter instinct grips him.
Tension Ignites in the Parking Lot Chaos
Gendarmes Corentin and Anna watch from their shadowed cruiser. Pickpocket patrol. Corentin, ex-dog handler, grabs Momo’s collar firm but gentle. Gloves on. Anna sits Romain in shade, disinfects the gash. ‘File a complaint?’ ‘Yes.’ Momo leashed now. I’m sweating, devastated. Bus leaves without him.
I offer a ride. Silence heavy on the autoroute. ‘Vet exam, probably euthanasia,’ Romain says. Tear rolls down my cheek. Momo whines on backseat, head tilted, eyes sad. Knows he’s fucked. Past traumas, SPA rescue. Fatalistic.
‘Withdraw complaint if you fuck me once,’ he says. Eyes on my cleavage, curves spilling from dress. Laugh bursts out. ‘Prostitute for Momo’s life? Blackmail?’ ‘Justice. He could bite a kid next.’ He’s 19, cute. I’m 38, married but open. Hubby at PMU bar, doesn’t care about my flings.
‘I love sex anyway,’ I admit. Pussy twitches. ‘Come to my Perpignan apartment tonight.’ He texts Karine: delayed in traffic. Hearts back. ‘Want Momo to watch?’ ‘Kinky, but ok. Tied up.’ Dirty talk flows. ‘I’ll fuck you doggy, deep, pounding.’ Wetness soaks panties. Almost cum driving.
Explosive Fucks and Close Calls for Momo
Home. Door locks. Strip slow. Heavy tits free, nipples hard. Kneel on bed, ass up, thighs spread. He caps up, slides in raw power. Virgin basically, saves it for her but takes me first. Pounds relentless. Mirror shows my face twist—fangs bared, howling orgasm. Primal. He grips hips, unloads. Momo watches, head cocked, quiet.
Next morning, panic call. Momo bit a kid in park. Hospital. Dad Christophe complaining. ‘You were right,’ I sob. Romain: ‘I’ll negotiate. Show him your nudes?’ ‘Do it.’ Afternoon: ‘He’s coming 8pm. Sex for dropped charges. Wife jealous, careful.’ Hide in armoire, one-way mirror. I film too.
Christophe arrives angry. Lingerie on—lace bra, thong. He calms fast, gropes tits. Fucks hasty, missionary rough. Not great. Momo tied nearby, eyes apologetic. Romain spies, later admits peeking. ‘All men pigs.’ Letters signed. Momo spared again.
Now, decision: pro trainer for him. Or end it. While fucking Romain again—cowgirl this time, me grinding control. He fears my feral peak. But adrenaline rushes. Work calls tomorrow—boss expects reports. Suit on, pro face. Secret lust hides beneath. Momo saved, for now. Pussy aches for next thrill.