I became as obsessed with her as she was with dogs, and I would continually recommend extra sessions so that we could ‘talk through’ her problems....I had her tell me all about her bestial experiences – what they felt like, how they happened, how she felt to be with an animal, to be watched by her husband and other couples. I told her she shouldn’t feel guilty about it, she should enjoy it. So she would go to another party, and then I’d hear all about it. I even started suggesting that she take. The rest of Homeroom was mostly me finishing up homework. I didn't have a lot, and was willing to put it on hold when Botilda wanted to talk."Happy birthday, F.L.," she grinned, glancing at where my legs join the body. "Love your new look." She handed me a small box. "I think you lost this." Lost?" I took the box, it wasn't wrapped, and opened it. When I saw what was inside I busted out laughing.It was a cherry."Thanks," I told her, "but I'm actually glad I lost it."We talked a bit, about sex,. She closed out the disarray of the room; then stopped the tears as her hand squeezed the pouch."Yoo-hoo anybody home?" The high pitched screech of her neighbour echoed through the hallway. "Are you there dear?"Ginny cringed, then quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, stood and walked to the front door."Hello, Mrs Faulkner." Oh my dear! What on earth has happened? Are you all right?" The plump granny in a bright pink tracksuit stepped into the house, then checked Ginny over with her. I gasped, never so full. He slid deep, as deep as he could go, his damp thighs and stomach against my cheeks. He stopped, already throbbing deep within me. He was panting a little bit. "Rock me baby" I begged. He started slow, easing almost all the way out, and then back in ever so gently. He knew exactly what he was doing. He picked up the pace but always going in slow and gentle so he wouldn't hurt me, and bringing it out faster and faster. In, out, in, out, he had a rhythm. My head was.