My Girlfriend Is A Dog

My Girlfriend Is A Dog

My girlfriend Sheila is a dog. She wasn't always a dog. Before the accident, she was pretty, really pretty. Also, before the accident, she had a body, I mean, a really hot body. She still has a body but it is a different type of body. Still, looks are not everything and it is so true that beauty is only skin deep. Nonetheless, I love her and would not leave her for anyone or anything else. We are together forever, no matter what. She is my best friend.

She has always had long, soft, beautiful multi-colored hair that smelled like a Spring, she still does, although, now it is not as long, more course than it was when I met her, and her hair does not smell like Spring. Her hair smells more like musty running shoes, especially when it gets wet.

She has a runner's body, tall, thin, and muscular. When she runs her hair blows back from her face and she looks like the girl in one of those soap commercials where she is running towards her boyfriend in a meadow filled with flowers. Man, I love that look, when her face is flushed, the breeze is blowing back her hair, and her tits are bouncing up and down and side to side. She looks so hot like that. Whenever I see her out jogging, I want to pull my car over, push her down on the grass, and fuck her. She is truly a beautiful woman or was a beautiful woman.

Before the tragic accident, we had a good relationship, so long as I did whatever it was she told me to do and did not take offense to her constant nagging. She was always trying to change me of my guy habits, like making a mess in the living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen. She was always after me to pick up after myself.

"Sheila, what's the big deal? It's just a wet bath towel, my clothes that I wore yesterday," I picked up my t-shirt to smell it, "or the day before, and some empty beer cans. Oh, wait, don't throw that one out. There's still beer in it."

She was always nagging me about drinking too much beer, watching too much football, baseball, basketball, and hockey and having too many guys over. Like anyone can drink too much beer, watch too much football, baseball, basketball, and hockey, and have too many friends over. We have a big house with a huge plasma television. The game room downstairs fits lots of my drunken, sports buddies. What's the problem?

Sheila, a Virgo, is an anal creature of habit. Every day, she is out the door by 6am jogging around the neighborhood before work. Every day, when she returns home it is the same bitching complaints. She complains about one of our neighbors flashing her as she runs by his house.

"That perverted guy waits for me every morning. He stands in his doorway and when he sees me coming, he walks to his lawn and picks up his newspaper as I run by him. Of course, he is wearing only a bathrobe that opens to his waist showing me his dangling cock and balls. Every morning it is the same thing. I've seen his prick more times than I have seen your prick."

Another one of our neighbors has a dog, a fat Bulldog that chases her as she jogs by his house. Fortunately, she is faster than the dog but she never knows from which bush the dog will bolt out from the next time.

"If I had a gun, I would shoot that dog. Every morning, he scares the shit out of me chasing after me barking that stupid, muffled bark that he makes that sounds like he is choking. I'm just glad he never goes past his property line. They must have an electronic fence or something."

"Nah, he's just territorial. If you stopped jogging and walked by him, he would stop chasing you. The dog is probably a male and is just guarding his property. The fact that he sees you running away makes him think that he has done his job and has chased you away, again." I laughed at her ignorance when it came to dog behavior.

"Then, if I see another person run through a stop sign without stopping, I swear that I am going to run out in front of their car. I am so sick of having to pause my stride waiting to see if these assholes are going to stop for me or not."

As soon as she arrives home from her 30 minute jog, she showers and dresses before she has coffee and a light breakfast of a piece of toast, a small glass of orange juice, and one hard boiled, 10 minute egg. Every morning it is the same routine. I could set my clock by the time she leaves and the time she returns home. And I swear that if I cook the egg for 9 minutes or 11 minutes, she would notice.

"What did you do to my egg?" She pushed her plate away from her orange juice. "I can't eat this."

"Sorry Sheila, I tried making it down to the kitchen but I was in the bathroom and then the dog wanted to go out. I guess I overcooked it but it must have only been 1 minute more than the 10 minutes that you insist your egg to be cooked."

"I hate that smelly dog. I wish you would get rid of him." She looked down at my dog, Rex. "I hate dogs."

Rex is an adorable mixed mutt of poodle and cocker spaniel that I picked up at the dog pound one day. I had Rex years before I met Sheila. Trust me, don't tell her this, but Sheila would go before my dog Rex would. I love that dog. And if I remember correctly, Rex is how I met Sheila. She walked over to Rex at the park one day.

"Oh, what a cute puppy," she said squatting down to pat him. She looked up at me flashing her pearly whites and smiling all cute and pretty with her long, beautiful multi-colored hair. "Is he your dog?" she asked making prolonged eye contact.

"He's no puppy, he'll be 10-years-old next month," I said laughing at the thought of Rex being a puppy. Boy, for someone who has a master's degree and a law degree, she was really dumb when it came to dogs.

I looked down and my eye balls nearly fell out of my head. I had a clear view up her skirt and of her sheer, pale yellow panties that barely covered her camel toed pussy and I was at the perfect angle to sneak a peek down her shirt and admire her gorgeous and braless A cup tits with her perfect, puffy pink nipples. She gave me an immediate erection.

So, why you ask am I still with Sheila if she is such a pain in the ass? Simple. The sex with Sheila is incredible. Never have I experienced sex like this before. I mean, I have had porn star sex before, but sex with Sheila is way better. Besides that, she gives me the best blow job, bar none, that I have ever had in my life. When she sucks my cock, I can feel the cum flowing from my feet. She is like a Dyson vacuum. She does not remove my cock from her mouth until I am licked clean. Not a drop of cum is missed.

Then, it happened. True to her promise, Sheila walked out in front of an SUV that had no intention of stopping at the stop sign to allow her to jog across. The force of a three ton vehicle hitting a 115 pound woman was fatal. She was thrown more than fifty feet and died instantly when her head slammed down full force and bounced on the street. Fortunately, there was a witness and the driver, a woman talking on her cell phone, stopped to see if Sheila was okay and, when she found out that she was dead, became hysterical.

Sheila was the woman that I wanted to marry and spend the rest of my life with together as husband and wife. I had already picked out a ring to surprise her with on her birthday in a few months.

I broke down when the police told me of her death. How do you prepare for something like that? She was so vibrant, so healthy, and so much a part of my life. It is not the same without her. The house is so quiet. Now, even though she is not there to nag me to clean up after myself, I hear her voice in my head and, automatically, I pick up my clothes and do not make a mess. She would have been proud of me.

Then, a week later, Rex passed. He was a great companion and I never realized how much I would miss him until he was gone. Now, alone in this big house without a girlfriend and without my dog, my two best friends in the world suddenly ripped from my life, I was miserable.

My friends kept coming by trying to console me, keep me company, and cheer me up but I was depressed. It was not until Sheila's best friend, Donna, arrived at my house with a dog that I finally perked up.

"Freddie," she said, "when you fall off of a horse, you have to pick yourself up and mount him again."

"Hey, buddy." I squatted down to pat the dog.

"I was at the pet store and I saw this beautiful dog," she said looking down at the dog that she held by a red, leather leash, "The more that I looked at the dog, the more that the dog reminded me of Sheila." She started to cry and she made me cry. Now, we were both crying with the dog standing there between us.

Basically, I thought Donna was nuts and just grieving for the loss of Sheila to have imagined that a dog, this dog, looked like Sheila. The dog was a dog and looked nothing like my deceased girlfriend, Sheila. Okay, you could make the comparison that the dog was an Afghan and had long, beautiful, multi-colored hair and was a graceful runner like Sheila. As soon as I made the comparison, I saw the resemblance.

"Oh, my God, could it be Sheila reincarnated?"

So, there we were; the two of us, Donna and me, holding one another and bawling like a couple of babies. Then, I do not remember if I kissed her or if she kissed me, but we kissed and kissed, again, until we were making out like horny teenagers at the movies. I had my hand all over her C cup tits with my other hand feeling her ass and her pussy through her linen pants. My hand was up her top and up her bra feeling her tits and fingering her nipples while she was fondling my growing erection.

I stripped her naked. She unbuckled my pants, fell to her knees, and engulfed my cock in her mouth with a hungry lust that I have never experienced. She was sucking on my cock like she was dying of starvation and my cock was her only meal. I pushed her back and we fucked right there on the living room carpet like dogs in heat. I was pounding her pussy until she barked that she was cumming. That was when I let go a huge, hot load of cum in her pussy.

I don't know if the dog did not understand what we were doing or if she thought that I was hurting Donna or Donna was hurting me but she bit both of us. First she bit Donna on her ass, and then she nipped me in the balls. Donna's bite was worse and she had to leave immediately to seek medical attention, as the dog had not had all of her shots and broke skin.

After Donna left I thought to myself, boy she was right about getting back on the horse, first having another dog in my life and then getting fucked by Sheila's hot, best friend. Suddenly, I felt better, almost like my old self, again.

I don't know if it was the few beers that I consumed later, but I decided to name the dog Sheila. It gave me comfort to name her after my girlfriend. She would have liked that, maybe, not really, well, not at all. Okay, she'd really be pissed that I named a dog after her. I started laughing. Maybe, it was the grief but I have never laughed as hard knowing how Sheila felt about dogs and to give my dog her name was, well, too funny.

Later that night, I made up Rex's old bed for Sheila to sleep. Yet, some time during the night, Sheila climbed in bed with me. The warmth of her felt good, comforting, against my body. I remember reaching down and touching her long, soft, beautiful multi-colored hair. It was all very surreal because, sub-consciously, even though I was sleeping and dreaming, I still was aware that Sheila was dead.

My entire body got goose bumps when I thought that maybe, this dog is my girlfriend reincarnated.

"Nah, it can't be."

Surprisingly, this is how I know, am absolutely positive, the evident proof, that Sheila, my Afghan hound, is Sheila my girlfriend reincarnated. First of all, she bit Donna on the ass and me in the balls when we were having sex. Second, Sheila wakes me up every day at exactly 6am and wants me to walk her. What about that, huh? Coincidence you say and lots of dogs wake up at 6am. Okay, then, what about this?

The first morning out, she broke loose from me when she saw that Bulldog emerge from the bushes. She chased that little shit dog until she caught him and bit him on his ass. What do you say about coincidence, now? Yeah, okay, you could make the argument that it is just a dog chasing another dog. Then, what about this?

When we walked a little further, we saw the pervert guy in the bathrobe flashing a woman jogging by his house. Again, Sheila broke loose, knocked the guy down and bit him on his penis. I mean, Sheila was shaking this guy by his cock and this poor pervert was screaming bloody murder.

"I'm going to sue you! Oh, fuck! I'll sue you for everything you have! Oh, fuck! And, I'll make sure that they put this dog to death. Oh, fuck!" This bastard was screaming while making all of these threats.

"You're going to what?" I leaned down closer to him for him to hear me over the noise of Sheila growling at him with his cock in her mouth. "You need to give me a little motivation for me to tell my dog to let go of your cock because if you don't, I'll tell her that it is okay to eat the hot dog."

"Okay, okay, I won't sue you."

"That's good," I said pulling Sheila off of him, "but that is not going to stop me from reporting you to the police." I pulled out my cell phone, called the cops, and waited there with him in his bathrobe with Sheila growling at him every time he moved.

The town erected a four way stop sign and repainted the cross walk. They dedicated the safety island in the middle calling it, Sheila's Way.

Donna and I have become a couple and Sheila has learned to accept her. Now, every day, we make time to take Sheila to the park.