Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-27303410-20180102005056/@comment-34904368-20190125115014

My friends sife was a Hellhound.

I was going to have to deal with a Hellhound.

Nothing I ever did made me deserve to have a horny Hellhound rampage in my house.

I grabbed them by the hands, practically flinging them upstairs, and ushering them into the attic just as the door slammed open and a deep, sensual growl echoed about.

I was still. There was some sniffing at first, before a growl and stomping, then thundering. The massive, 6’6 Hellhound blasted up the stairs. My only, smart, obviously foolproof response?

Dive down headfirst.

We met in the middle, and me falling faster than she ascending, knocked her on her back and right down the stairs. The was grabbing at anything to get a grip, and somewhere in that she lost her shirt and bra whilst I lost my belt.

As we crumpled at the bottom and got up, she was the first to notice her bra wasn’t on. Uttering an “eep” of confusion, she formed a handbra.

At that moment my pants decided it should be a good chance to drop and allow my privates some air. She gasped as I sped to cover my loins. No sooner had I turned around to find a tea-towel had she dived on me, immediately ripping her clothes off and riding my erect member.

Upstairs, the couple snickered.

“We got him a date,” the hellhound mused. “Look at all the fun he’s having~”

“Oh not just them~” he mused, pushing his wife to the ground and steamy times commenced.