Feeling Dirty

I woke up while it was still dark. I love that immediate pre-dawn. Looking across our large garden, I can just make out a fox padding back to its den, staying close to the hedgerow and stopping to listen intently every few minutes.  I’m standing at my window dressed in just a pair of panties that I wore yesterday and slept. Unsurprisingly, there is a warm, musky scent to me this morning. I haven’t showered yet, and a brief touch between my legs tells me that I am wet, and that my clit is already demanding my attention.  But clits alone.....well...they can make orgasms of course, but they are nothing like the orgasms that accompany a good dirty fantasy. But what to choose? Sometimes, my mind just insists and gives me the way ahead that will not be denied. Other times, I flit from fantasy to fantasy, nothing quite filling the bill until I have a thoroughly frustrating, and purely physical cum. I hate those! Today, though, I know I want the fantasy to be dirty. Naughty, dirty Becky!  The fox takes one last look around and squats to pee. I watch her and let a tiny amount go into my panties. Mmmm....yes.....that’s nice. I feel the warmth spread a little. There wasn’t enough for it to run down my legs or even soak through the material.....just enough to be dirty! Ah, but I want so much more. I pull on my thick dressing gown and slippers and step out onto my balcony. The early morning cold is savage and takes my breath away. My nipples harden instantly and painfully against their piercings. I spread my legs a little and bend slightly at the knees. Then, like th vixen, I listen hard for sounds. I think of the vixen. I am a wild animal, and I a, vulnerable. I bend more at the knee and when I am safe from predators, I pee into my panties softly. I love the wetness and warmth as it spreads. I love the saucy little splash as it hits the ground. But more than anything, I love the scent of my pheromones that it carries. Piss and cunt, mixed to perfection.  I don’t go back in immediately, despite the biting cold. My panties turn cold very quickly, but that only serves to remind me of my naughtiness. Becky! You wet yourself! You dirty little cunt.  Back in my bathroom, I stand in the shower, but I don’t turn it on. The vixen must be back in her den by now. I wonder if the dog fox is there with her? I wonder if he has sniffed at her inquisitively, noting the smell of her piss before mounting her.  I think of a man, a nameless, faceless man, kneeling. Before me right now smelling my pee-soaked panties. My scent drives him up hard. He pulls me onto all fours and mounts me from behind, rutting me like a dog. Part of my brain imagines I am actually being mounted by a dog, and I find myself alternating between this mystery man and an animal.  I’m masturbating furiously by now, of course. He is fucking me. His hands/paws wrapped around me intent, as animals are, on only his own release.  My orgasm tears through me as I think of the foxes and the dog, and the man. Which one makes me cum? All of them, and none of them.  My hand is soaked with pee and cunt juices. I’ve squirted, I know, but I want to finish with one more tiny little pee into my underwear.  It feels hot and delicious.