Eventually, I got bored with the staring and I worked up my courage to move. Slowly and cautiously, I put out my hand in front of his nose. He looked at it and sniffed it, then he moved closer to me. He stepped in front of me and put his huge neck directly in front of my face. I had to move my head back or he would have hit my nose. I could not think what to do. I wasn't about to push him or try to climb over him. I did the only thing that occurred to me, I reached out and put my arms around his neck and hugged him. I don't know what possessed me. It just seemed the right thing at the time. Once I had hold of him I had the strangest feeling. Having my arms something that big and strong must have stirred some very primal feelings in me. I felt very small and helpless. I felt entirely at his mercy. I wanted to surrender to his strength, to ask for his protection. I stroked his coat with one hand. I felt the powerful muscles ripple at my touch. I felt connected to this huge animal.
He moved and I let go of him. I sat back on the sofa to see what he would do. He turned his handsome head to look at me and then he sat down on the floor and put his head in my lap.
I was so relieved that I was ecstatic. The dog liked me. I stroked his head and played with his ears. He rolled his head and looked up at me with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. It was the size of a washcloth.
We sat there together and I watched TV with Brute's head in my lap. He seemed content to just sit there with me and I certainly had nowhere to go at the moment so we just enjoyed each other's company for a while.
After a bit, Brute climbed up on the sofa with me and stretched out across my legs, pinning me to the couch. I suppose he was doing his best to be a lap-dog, but he was so big and I was so small that he covered me from my knees to my shoulders. His weight pinned me down, but it was mostly on my legs and I could still breathe OK. I draped my arms over him and lay my head down on his back.
The beating of his heart sounded like a bass drum. His breath rushed like the wind before a storm. The heat of his great furry body against my skin was like the noontime sun in midsummer. It flowed through me, making me perspire, but I held onto the dog, refusing to move. I had never been so close to an animal this large before and I wouldn't have been more impressed if it had been a lion in my lap.
"He's not supposed to be in the house."
Mrs. Reynolds had come down so quietly that I hadn't known she was there until she spoke. Now, she stood looking down at the two of us cuddled on the sofa.
At the sound of her voice, Brute raised his head. He looked at Mrs. Reynolds guiltily, knowing he was breaking some rule. Then he looked at me and I patted his side.
Brute took that as a signal and climbed down off the sofa and off my lap. He sat down on the floor and looked at me.
Mrs. Reynolds said, "See if you can get him to go back outside."
I stood up and walked to the open door. Brute followed closely, his head bumping my hip. I stopped in the doorway and pointed outside. The dog padded through and into the backyard.
"That's more than he will do for me, most of the time," Mrs. Reynolds told me. "Let me run upstairs and change. I want to walk you home. Meet me in the foyer."
I sat in the desk chair and tried to cool off from my doggie-sauna. My pits and my crotch were soaked. I flipped my skirt up and down to try to dry the perspiration in my lap. When that didn't seem to work, I slipped off my panties and stuffed them into my bookbag. Then I spread my knees and flapped my skirt some more, this time with better effect. When I thought Mrs. Reynolds had had enough time to change, I pulled myself to my feet and made my way upstairs, flapping my arms.
I timed it perfectly. I got to the foyer just as Mrs. Reynolds came down the front stairs. She was wearing a gray tailored suit with a short skirt and a jacket that showed off her cleavage but did not announce the fact that she had nothing on underneath. She had on a pair of sensible walking shoes and she was carrying a couple of bras and a small shopping bag. She took one of the bras and held it out, cups up. I leaned over and lowered my flaccid breasts into them. She hooked it on me tightly. When I stood up, I noticed that the cups were very stiff and a good bit too large for even my stretched out breasts. Still, it felt comfortable to have them laying in there, supported by the extra-firm cups.
Mrs. Reynolds tested the fit of the cups and the band to make sure it would stay put. She put the other bra in the shopping bag and picked up a paper lunch-bag from the table.
"These are the sandwiches I made for you for later," she said. "Now remember, don't take that bra off and don't put any pressure on your breasts. If it's too tight in the morning, here is another one you can change into."
I nodded my understanding of her terms, if not the reason for them, and put the second bra and the sandwiches inside my bookbag. I picked up my blouse from the table and put it on. It barely fit over the stiff bra, so I left the top couple of buttons undone. I pulled my baggy sweater over my head. It was loose enough to accommodate the larger bulge, but just barely.
As we walked out the out the door, I said, "I think Brute likes me."
She laughed and said, "I had rather got that idea. You seem to be fond of him too."