She and her dog came over a slight rise, moving off the grey gravel road. Bolt's ears swiveled as he surveyed the landscape. Fields and hardly a building from here to the horizon.
Due to popular enthusiasm, I am proud to present a second helping of our little Bolt and Penny saga. Have fun! Bolt whimpered. The sun gleamed in around the skylight, tracing a three-sided square on the trailer floor. He had been up since the break of dawn and Penny was still in bed. Most days, they would be in mortal danger by now. He propped his paws up on the fold-out bed and yipped. You'd better get ready. This could be the calm before the storm.
Here we go again. Have fun! Evening light streamed into the kitchen, lighting Bolt's fur in shimmers of orange and red. He trotted in, selecting the optimum location on the linoleum. Close enough to be seen, too far to be shooed off. Tilt head, drop ears, look up. With a yip to get their attention, he struck the humans with the full force of his "dog face. Her mother shifted in her chair and gestured with a forkload of salad. He turned. Mittens smiled nonchalantly from the arm of the sofa, stretching her paws.
Through bleary eyes, Bolt awoke to see his person's sleeping face. Her arms around him, her leg over his hips, she slept with such peace that his tail gave a groggy wag. He nuzzled her collarbone, then tilted his muzzle down to give languid licks to her breasts. The redhead moaned, pulling him closer. Her hips pressed to his, soft folds kissing his sheath.