Was in her bedroom upstairs with the door closed, locked, her hand curled through the dog's hair (Bruno, the family dog) as she kept his maw/nose pressed to her slit. Panting softly, rolling her hips against his wide, slurping tongue. Her voice a breathy whisper. That's it... that's a good boy... get in there... nice and deep... Moaning, propped on her elbow, one hand on her breast. She didn't hear the front door open in the living room as you came home earlier than she had expected you.