But on your Wedding Eve, she told you once while taking off her silk granny panties — after complete sexual abstinence for forty days in honor of lent — she found herself in a humiliating sexual mishap. One Easter, wearing only a 60's era Batman tee and rainbow tube socks, she excitedly ran to fidget with her downstairs doorbell to some cfnm bachelorette party videos, and hit a knee on her space heater. This caused her to trip and land on all fours, and the sensation of the heat and the pain sent her into a psycho-sexual state.
Her loving, virile dog Hercules the III, who hadn't been laid 'in a minute', saw this as his opportunity to get more than just a cold leg. He hoped to get over the rejection of a stray dog named Loretta, who laid every dog on the block but denied him a piece. The sight of his master's bare rump in a compromising position sent him into an orbit surpassing doggy heaven.
The hound mounted your wife-to-be while you were out of town on business and creating her a paper mache heart with your initials for a planned wedding proposal. Through weeping tears, she claimed the strange state of arousal brought on by the event caused her not to move much during the "vicious pounding," except toward then end when she "pushed back a bit." She claims no actual penetration happened, but her bum was left covered in the dog's relieved desire.
She still owns the dog, who doesn't like you, and will not get him neutered. Her response was, "Hey, accidents happen." She claims if a similar situation were to happen again, she'd search deep within her soul for a way to make the best of it and the unraveling of her subdued, carnal desires. She promises to do her best to suppress her tendencies, but requests an occasional "Ruff, ruff!" in the bedroom and frequently refuses positions that aren't doggy style.
Tomorrow is your wedding featuring over 200 guests, including all your closest friends and relatives. Would you go through with it?
I would, but only if I really loved her.
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