“Here, Timmy! Here, boy!”
They – that is, Georgina, Anne, Julian and Dick – had been throwing sticks for the fifth member of their team, Timmy the dog. But after Julian flung the stick into the bushes on the far side of the hill, and Timmy had gone racing after it, there had been a long pause. When the four children went to investigate why their friend hadn’t returned, he was nowhere to be seen.
Anne was almost in tears, but Julian was looking after her. All of them were searching the hill, hoping to find some trace of the dog.
Georgina, or George as the tomboy preferred to be called, wandered off a little way, back towards the house. As she meandered down the winding path, still calling for Timmy, a large shape jumped at her out of the bushes. George cried out in fear, but then she realised that the tongue lapping at her face was Timmy’s.
“Oh, you naughty dog,” she said, tapping him gently on the nose and kissing him back, her tongue entwining with his. “You tricky boy; you just wanted to surprise me, didn’t you? Well, you gave us all a fright…” she pulled the dog close, running her dirty fingers through his coarse fur, “I thought I’d lost you.”
Timmy whined, and tugged at her hand. George obediently stood up, and followed him. He bounded down the lane and towards the cottage, where the other were glumly returning, by a different route.
“First Timmy, and now George,” Dick was saying sadly, “I think something strange is going on around here, Julian.”
Julian shushed him. “I’m sure they’re alright,” he said, more for Anne’s benefit than anything else. “We all know George. Even if they are in a spot of trouble, they’ll work it out.”
“Too right we will,” grinned George, stepping forward.
“George!” cried Anne happily, running towards the bigger girl, beaming. George enfolded her in a warm embrace for a few moments, taking in the smell of freshly-washed golden curls and the sight of overflowing blue eyes. Then she pushed the younger girl away, because boys didn’t give warm hugs.
Julian and Dick patted her on the back and Timmy on the head. “Where have you been, silly dog?”
“He was just going home,” said George defensively.
There was laughter from the doorway, and they turned to see George’s mother. “I guess Timmy must have a better nose for food than even Dick!” she giggled. “I just finished a batch of scones, and here you lot are… hungry, I expect?”
“Ravenous,” agreed Julian, and everyone went inside for tea.
Later, upstairs, George lay in her room, all alone. The others had been sent down to the village shop to get some tea leaves, but George hadn’t wanted to go. She and Timmy had stayed behind, up in the quiet house, waiting until they heard the door close and knew that Mother had left to hang out washing.
She nuzzled Timmy’s belly tentatively, and he made a noise somewhere between a giggle and a whine. “Oh Timmy,” she sighed, “I do love you. Will you kiss me?”
Timmy licked her lips, and George giggled. “Wait a minute, Tim, I have to get into my nightie before they come back.”
Timmy watched as George undressed, then pulled the flimsy nightie over her head. He panted as she turned around and stroked him lovingly. Then he began to sniff around between her legs, seeking the tasty spring she sometimes allowed him to drink from.
George drew in a shuddering breath, and pushed the dog’s head further between her legs. The probing tongue made her gasp and squeal in delight, and the cold wet nose rubbing against her clit was almost more than she could bear. With a shout, she threw her head back and felt the juices run down her legs.
Timmy lapped them up, and then settled down onto her chest, curling himself up. George pulled down her night-dress and pulled her underwear back on. After a moment of relaxation, revelling in the feeling of the orgasm still resonating around her body, George pushed the heavy dog off her and climbed back into the bed. Without having to be called, Timmy bounded up beside her and lay his head alongside hers, his wet dogs-breath a warm comfort on her tired little face.