He moved his hand gently from my mound down the I side of my thought and back up again, "mmm" was all he said, then he slid his finger inside me, "omg...you are so wet", I knew I was, my breathing had gone up a notch, I was so horny with this stranger, I have never had an affair and never would, this was just a consult with a doctor!He moved his fingers in and out of me, I was wriggling with pleasure, he place his other hand on my stomache, "still, or it won't work", there was such an authority. That was how we adopted Jefferson, or how he adopted us. He was of an indeterminate breed, what my parents called a Heinz, as in Heinz 57 varieties. He was short haired, a brown and white mix that had elements of a small hound and something larger. He was young, and mostly housebroken. Our initial thought was that he was a runaway or lost, and that we would find some flyers up or hear something or see it in the paper. At least that was what we told ourselves, which became a big, big problem.. More

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