Meeting up with an old lover shakes loose lots of feelings. Awkwardness, nostalgia, sweet memories, heartbreak of parting - all of these and more I experienced when I saw Charlie again after three years. Three years ago Charlie and I had had an intense affair that lasted only a week. But in that week he taught me so much about love and sex that I will never forget. And I will never stop loving him.

Charlie is a beautiful border collie.

If you, my reader, were to see me in person today, you would not dream from my appearance - which I'm told is not unpleasant to look upon - that I carry Charlie with me and in me. At least I feel that I do. You would have no clue that I, not only willingly but eagerly, had put myself into that totally undignified and vulnerable position for a woman - on hands and knees - to welcome a dog into my body and into my life. Not once but again and again. And still do to this day (though not with Charlie, alas).

Charlie's intelligence shines in his eyes. He is more articulate with those eyes than most people are with words. His gorgeous male body is muscular and strong. I had the good fortune to meet Charlie soon after my "promiscuous period" with stray dogs that I've detailed elsewhere (see my posting "A Woman's View, Part III"). At this stage I was still in a sort of euphoric shock from my first experiences of being mated by dogs, still not sure if I could handle the idea of myself, an attractive woman in her late 20s, having real, all-the-way sex with male dogs - yet feeling very certain in my physical being that I was at last finding deep fulfillment as a woman by means of what many would label an abnormal coupling. Abnormal perhaps, but a coupling that my body and being seemed to crave after I had been mated a number of times. An addiction, perhaps. A big dog's driving passion, his overpowering and honest lust, his large equipment and hot, copious juices set me on fire, set every nerve a tingle, turned me into a steamy sexpot eager to present to him the wet, sweet fig of my womanhood.

Anyhow, it was shortly after I experienced these revelations that Max, an acquaintance of mine, told me he had to leave on a week long trip and needed a place to leave Charlie, his dog. Just as a favor I offered to take Charlie, knowing nothing about him and not anticipating a sexual relationship with him.

When I saw Charlie, though, it was almost love at first sight. How handsome, how smart he was! Definite sexual sparks flashed between us when our eyes first met. Intuitive messages, wow! Like cymbals crashing! It was Charlie who first taught me to really look at a dog. That first day, as we romped on the floor with each other - laughing, wrestling, caressing - I soon knew that, having given him my heart, I would give him my body also if he wanted me. I kissed him - the first dog I ever really kissed and necked with - and it was juicy and different but not at all repulsive. In fact I adored his mouth, his lovely sexy tongue, his fragrant breath, his sweet saliva. As we sought each other's mouths, could feel my breasts tauten, my nipples itch and swell as I pressed against his deep, muscular chest, felt dampness and a slight tingle between my legs. I think I actually "panted with desire," to use an old cliche.

I'm sure he smelled and sensed what was happening to me, was fully aware of it, for I saw a large, beautiful erection arise from his loins. Its size rather intimidated me at first, for it was not only 7 or 8 inches long but quite thick, swelling to a golfball-size knot. I was suddenly feeling so itchy and squirmy that I couldn't stay dressed. I threw everything off me, including panties and bra, and I took him in my arms, and we kissed and licked and shared our mouths. I felt a sudden rush of wetness on my belly - he was bathing me in his precum. I handled his penis, and another hot jet splashed on my hand, which I lifted to my lips and wiped on my face. It was sort of like a rite, I felt, a ceremonial action that symbolically, if not yet literally, tied us together as one. His juice tasted salty and oily, felt a little puckery on my skin, and he washed my face and mouth with his tongue. I took his head - his glorious head! - in my two hands and looked deeply into his lovely eyes. Either silently or aloud (I don't remember which), I asked him if he wanted me - and told him that if he did, I would be thrilled and honored to be mated by him.

I don't remember all the details of what happened next. I don't remember presenting myself to him on hands and knees, and I don't remember his mounting me or his entry into me. All I remember is the feeling of his immense, driving passion, an elemental force of nature, almost, that seemed to course through me. Oh yes, and I remember how our juiciness - his and mine - made our intercourse very audible at first, sounds that excited me greatly. I remember the weight of him on my back, the tight grasp of his forelegs around my waist, the sense of powerful surging against my thighs and between my legs - and inside me, heat, a flowing liquid heat almost like urination. And then I felt tightness, a grip inside my vagina, swelling there until I squealed with combined raw pleasure and pain - and I knew Charlie had tied me to him.

Oh, what a wondrous way for a woman to be held - the combination of strong forelegs locked tight around my waist and, inside me, the clasp of his knot, giving me such a marvelous sensation of union and closeness as I had rarely if ever experienced in human sex. To me it seemed such an intense expression of his love. I was talking to him all this time, love talk, intimacies I would never ever repeat here or to anyone. I felt his hardness in me seem to swell even bigger. I felt his knot begin to pulse, and concurrently I felt rushes and surges of heat welling deep in my belly, making me gasp with their force, and I felt my inner walls contracting around this spouting monster even as the heat of his semen pervaded my abdomen. Our closeness together with the release of the interior floods coursing from his body into mine made all my nerve ends rise and tingle, and I stretched and squirmed under the exotic caresses of his body. Lady, you have not known the power and soul of sexual intercourse until you have been wed and truly bred by a dog. My deep, involuntary contractions squeezed and kissed him. Even as I felt my first climax swell and surge against his knot, he sort of moaned in ecstasy as he gripped me even harder, and we swayed and sashayed together as one, totally one, totally lost in the power and immensity of being connected.

The rest of that period when I was locked to Charlie, experiencing helpless climaxes one after another, merges in memory with our intercourse sessions the rest of that wonderful week. Each day we locked together in ecstasy, sometimes twice or three times a day. We couldn't leave each other alone. I had border collie semen coming out my ears, it seemed, and Charlie's lovely big balls provided an unending well of it. By the end of that week my bottom was so sore, I was dripping him almost constantly, his taste pervaded my mouth, my skin - and I still couldn't keep my hands off him, and he couldn't keep from tonguing and nudging me. We ached for each other's bodies even as we ached from them. This was my first extended canine affair, and I had never before experienced such an intense period of sensuous pleasure.

Charlie's owner Max, of course, never found out what we were up to. When he returned and picked Charlie up, I felt desolate. I cried for two days, slept with his mat and his smell in my bed. When I moved away later that year, I knew I'd never see Charlie again. I stifled the pain even as I enjoyed other canine relationships and ultimately settled in with my golden retriever and lover Mike.

Then, just weeks ago, out of the blue I receive a phone call from Max. There's a conference I should attend in his city. If I could come, I could stay at his house with Charlie, since Max himself would be attending conferences elsewhere. Before I could think, I had agreed. "You know, after that last time I left Charlie with you," said Max, "he just moped around and acted real depressed for days. You and he must have really hit it off." Right, Max.

But soon I felt qualms. Would Charlie even know me? Would he remember our love making? Could I take the chance of seeing him again only to leave him again? I felt such gratitude toward him. Other dogs had taught me canine sex, but Charlie had taught me canine intimacy. Charlie had not only loved my woman's body but my woman's soul as well. We had fondled our tongues, our limbs, our hearts. We had locked together in almost unbearably intense oneness, again and again. I had carried his sperm, the precious fruit of his very being, deep in my deepest womanhood, and maybe I carried a remnant of him still, who could know. Could I now bear to have him look at me, to remember, to think of me shuddering and moaning beneath him? How could I face him without timidity, blushing, embarrassment - and maybe lust and longing too. Almost at once I began to ache for him - the old familiar ache - for the feel of his body, the greeting of his tongue.

So I went, half-scared of seeing him, afraid of not seeing him. "Charlie's in the back yard," said Max as I arrived. "Make yourself at home" - and he promptly left.

I walked into the back yard, and there was Charlie. My love. I started to cry. He stared intently at me. A tentative wag of tail - and he approached, intelligence and bravery shining from his eloquent eyes. I turned, unable to face him - and standing there, I felt his gaze upon my body, felt the warmth of his eyes searching me from behind. I felt his eyes undressing me, felt them caress my back, then my hips and legs. I felt his eyes in the crack of my butt, that place so familiar to his tongue and body. I felt his eyes linger at the very bottom of my crack between my thighs - the tingle of his eyes there - and I gasped.

"Charlie?" I said. And then he was in my arms, we were laughing, crying, kissing, his lithe body pressing against my breasts, the familiar smell of him so delicious, the familiar contours of his body sweet to my caressing hands upon him.

I knew I would give him my body that night - and I did, joyfully, tenderly. I felt so protected by him, so secure, as he tied me to him in the old way. He took such sweet care of me. That night I thought he would never let me go; he tied me for over two hours, the longest any dog ever has. Near the end of that period I felt decidedly swollen, pregnant, so bloated with his trapped semen that I thought my belly would drag on the floor (I exaggerate somewhat).

I attended only two conference sessions. The rest of the time I was with Charlie. And I think, somehow, that I was able to make him understand that, although we would mostly dwell apart, we would always be mates in our hearts if not always sharing our bodies.

He kissed me then, kissed me until I bawled, and we slept naked together all night on his mat with a blanket over us.