My boyfriend had just gotten home from deployment, and we were having a celebratory fuck. He stopped mid-thrust and said he wanted to try something new. He promised it wasn't weird, but sensual. He told me to lie on my belly. He lubed himself up from neck to nuts and straddled me, as if I were a pony. His two golden labs were lying on the floor, nearly face-to-face with me. I suggested putting them out of the room, but he insisted that they didn't mind being there, as if it was perfectly normal to have canine spectators inches from one's face while fucking. He began sliding up and down my back, giving me a rug burn from his days-old ball shave when he went up and rubbing his anus up my back when he went back down. He blew his load on my back, handed me a towel, and asked if I liked his "ball massage." His dogs seemed to be suffering secondhand shame for their owner—their intense eye contact seemed to be a plea for forgiveness. "LAUREN"