My Dirty Secret Love for Dogs

Okay, so here's the thing. I fucking love dogs. Not in that cute, wholesome way everyone talks about, but deep down, in a twisted, animalistic hunger that consumes me. It started innocent enough, watching them romp around, tails wagging, eyes sparkling with that raw, untamed energy. But fuck, their playfulness? It drives me wild. The way they chase and pounce, bodies slamming together in chaotic bliss, it makes my pulse race and my skin tingle with forbidden heat. I confess, I've fantasized about it more times than I can count, getting down on all fours with one, feeling that rough fur against my naked skin, their hot breath on my neck as we roll in the dirt, no rules, no judgments. That unconditional loyalty, the way they'd lick and nuzzle every inch, exploring with tongues that don't hold back. It's so goddamn playful, yet primal, turning me into a panting mess. I've snuck into parks at night, heart pounding, just to watch them play, imagining myself in the mix, surrendering to the pack. The thrill of it being so wrong, so taboo, only makes it hotter. I'd let them mount me, claim me in ways no human ever could, all teeth and claws and unrelenting drive. Fuck, the thought alone has me dripping, aching for that wild release. Don't judge me; it's my dirty little confession, and embracing it feels like pure ecstasy. Those wet noses pressing in, tails thumping as we lose ourselves in the frenzy. Yeah, I love dogs, and I mean every filthy layer of it.