Good Girl
Story by: Kirsen
The stairs loomed before her, a near-impassible obstacle for the husky who gazed upon them. Considering she had hardly made it from her car to the door of the apartment building without collapsing in exhaustion, the four flights of stairs between her and her apartment may have well been Mount Everest. Dressed in a simple skirt and blouse with a name tag that clearly labeled her as Mariah, the black-and-white patterned canine simply stood in place for several minutes, looking apprehensively at the steps before her. Finally, letting out a tired whine, she slowly trudged her way up the passageway, groaning every time her paw hit the ground.
In her mind, she broke down the distance left, trying to take the journey one step at a time. The climb was categorized into the individual flights, each flight broken into the stairs that composed it, and each little victory bolstered her for the next section. Just when she was about ready to collapse onto the staircase and never stand again, her foot fell onto the landing of the third floor. She would have cheered if it didn't require so much effort, so the husky simply let out a vaguely happy-sounding whimper.
Mariah walked up to her door and fumbled for her key by feel, eyes closed and head resting against the doorframe. Finding the ring, she opened her eyes blearily and found the correct one, though it took her several tries to match the thin piece of metal with the lock. Pulling open the door, she stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind her with a grateful sigh.
The entryway was connected almost directly with the living room, a homey, albeit sparsely furnished, space to spend the time. A TV sat in one corner, faced by a comfy couch with a coffee table directly in front of it. Here and there were the various pieces of detritus that showed that the living room was, in fact, lived in: some magazines and coffee table books, some photographs placed on the windowsill, and other knick-knacks that were worthless to all but the people who bought them. Mariah walked over to the couch, and collapsed onto the beige cushions, closing her eyes tightly. A voice drifted into the room from the nearby kitchen. "Hiya hun! How was work?" The voice was warm and soothing, like a cup of spiced cider on a cold day, though its source was currently unseen.
She groaned in response, grabbing a throw pillow and pressing her face into it. "Shh...Too tired to talk...Time for sleep now..." Her voice was deep and rich, but was now reduced to a near-croak from her exhaustion. She clung tightly to the cushion, as though by burrowing into its squishy surface she could separate herself from the never-ending series of aggravating events that had beset her the moment she set foot into the clothing outlet in which she worked.
A human walked into the doorway between the two rooms, smiling as he munched on a plate of fried rice. He was a little shorter then average, with brown hair cropped short. Brown eyes looked at the sprawling canine with a merry twinkle, his entire demeanor providing a conduit through which good humor seemed to flow.
"That good, huh?" he asked, turning around back into the kitchen. "I didn't really feel like cooking, so I decided to go with take-out tonight." He emerged once more, this time holding a plate piled high with Chinese food. "Somehow, I doubt you're too tired to enjoy some sesame chicken." He held it close to her head to allow the scent to permeate the air, smiling as a twitching nose appeared from beneath the pillow. "Come on, you know you want it..."
She removed the cushion to expose a playful glare, but took the plate. "Matt, sometimes I think you know me way too well for my own good," she said resignedly, taking a bite. The husky chewed slowly, savoring the poultry's sweet flavor before swallowing.
"It's a good thing I do," he said teasingly. "If I didn't, you would just come home every night and fall asleep." He joined her on the couch. "Another long day, I take it?"
She sighed, rubbing her temples in irritation. "You have no idea. Frustrating customers. Frustrating supervisor. Frustrating assignments. Nothing about this stupid job is simple. I can't believe I took four years of college to put up with this crap."
Matt chewed thoughtfully a few times before responding. "Technically you took four years of collage to be a writer. This is...more of a detour then anything else."
"Don't remind me," She grumbled, moodily prodding the lumps of chicken with her fork. "All that time and money spent only to be in a deadbeat retail job. I might as well have thrown forty thousand dollars down the toilet."
Placing his fork and plate on the coffee table, Matt wrapped an arm around the husky's shoulders. "Just hold on, sweetie, I'm sure something will come up. God knows when I first got my teaching degree I felt like I was banging my head against a wall. But against all odds I found a job I love even if the pay isn't much. And now I get to see people I love at home and work." He rested his head against her shoulder, planting a soft kiss in the crook of her neck.
A small smile briefly appeared on her face before disappearing with another sigh. She set down her half-finished meal and crossed her arms sullenly. "I'm just so sick of it all, y'know? I wanted to have my work read all over the world, published in big-name magazines and papers. Now with this crappy economy I can't even get my foot in the door of a local rag." Her gaze fell to the floor, her eyes looking without seeing, lost in her own thoughts. "I feel like all my plans are starting to fall apart."
Matt raised his head, immediately recognizing her tone. He knew if he didn't do something quickly, she would be in this mood the rest of the night. "Hun, come on, don't be like that. Being sad about how things are won't change anything, so don't force yourself to go through with it. I hate to see you like this..."
She shifted slightly, but her expression remained unchanged. "I'm sorry, Matt, I can't help it. I don't have your optimism." Tears were beginning to form in the corners of her eyes, her voice becoming more choked as her depression began to manifest.
"Hmm...I guess the only solution is a pleasant distraction, then." Reaching his arm around, he cupped the back of her head, one finger slowly scratching behind the husky's ear. "Who's my girl, huh? Who's my girl?" His voice was light, the kind of tone one normally used when talking to small children. Due to his chosen profession, it had been given a great deal of practice in the last few years.
She wiggled under his attentions, his fingers sending a shiver down her spine. Still, she refused to crack a smile. "Sweetie, I'm not in the mood for this tonight..." she grumbled.
He only smiled and switched to the other ear, scratching more vigorously. "C'mooooon, who's my big, beautiful girl?" The husky's tail began to slowly thump against the couch cushions, a shy smile finally appearing on her face.
"I am..." she whispered. Taking his other arm from around her shoulders, he slipped it beneath her shirt and began to drag his fingers through the soft fur of her stomach.
"I didn't quite hear that, hun, who's my girl?" he questioned. She gasped, falling onto her side. Lying across her boyfriend's lap, one leg began to shake uncontrollably. She hardly noticed, however, too caught up in the rush of feeling Matt's hand scratching wildly at her underbelly.
"Ah! I'm you're girl! I am!" she shouted, eyes nearly rolling back in happiness. It was near-indescribable, the sensations she felt from having that sweet-spot worked over. It sent arcs of pleasure shooting through her body like lightning, while at the same time relaxing her like a gentle massage. It was both vitalizing and soothing at the same time. Her sorrows evaporated at his touch, no room left for them as ecstasy crowded out all other thoughts.
His other arm joined the first under her shirt, raking through her white fur to feel the warm skin beneath. The human's practiced hands played her body like a beautiful instrument, changing techniques every so often to make sure no caress became stale. Vigorous scratching turned to gentle kneading, allowing Mariah to cool down before he resumed his attack on her belly. The husky simply lay there, tongue lolling from her mouth as she let the pleasure wash over her. She nearly melted into the couch, put into a trance by the dancing fingers rubbing such a sensitive spot.
Matt grinned, ready to move onto the next phase of his plan. One hand still massaging her stomach, the other began to slide lower down the canine's body, slipping beneath the waistband of her skirt.
She let out a gasp as Matt's fingers touched her treasure, letting out a low whine of happiness as he began to stroke and rub at the fur of her labia, already damp from his ministrations. Unlike his the motions on her belly, this hand was slow, deliberately loving, caressing her softy and gently. His Fingers slid gently over her slit, but didn't enter quite yet- He was taking his time, savoring the moment. But soon her needy whines became too much to ignore, and his middle finger pressed slowly into her depths.
She moaned at the touch, the combination of this stimulation and that on her belly nearly making her scream in pleasure. He slowly worked his finger around her silken walls, curing and stroking her flesh rather then simply penetrating her, soon sliding in another finger to aid the first. She began to unconsciously buck her hips against him, and soon his fingers were completely covered with her juices. As she started to write beneath him, he began to move faster, pumping his fingers at a rhythmic pace.
Mariah was panting hard as he began to pleasure her in earnest, the combination of sensations driving her wild. As his fingers truly began to pick up speed, she could hardly even think any more, too caught up in the sensations of her boyfriend's touch. His fingers penetrating her rapidly, his thumb began to lightly rub her clit, the small nub of flesh circled and touched just enough to send a tingle through the canine's body. Like his fingers, he rubbed harder as time went on, and it wasn't long before she felt her climax approaching.
Like a freight train, she could feel it rushing towards her, the sharp, pleasurable sensation building higher and higher before it exploded in a rush of pleasure that spread through her entire body, making her howl in ecstasy.
Lying motionless but for a few twitches of her legs, Mariah, looked wearily up at her lover, managing to let out a whispered "Thank you" before her head fell once more to the couch cushions. Matt chuckled, kissing her belly softly and motorboating his lips, making her giggle softly.
"Now try complaining about me knowing you too well for your own good." He said playfully, gazing up to meet her eyes. They were already closed, however. Her exhaustion had finally caught up to her, and it wasn't long her breathing starting to slow.
Rolling his eyes he laughed inwardly. I thought it was the man who's supposed to fall asleep after sex, he thought to himself. Looking at the passed-out girlfriend still lying across his lap, he let out a soft sigh and reached forward carefully to grab the TV remote, switching the box on it on and lowering the volume. He gently continued to rub at her belly as the show droned on, not completely paying attention to the program. Sleep sweet, my beautiful girl. Things will look better after a good night's sleep.