You cannot stop humping the sofa, you are so wrapped up in the moment. You feel a twinge of fear and embarrassment as the door lock clicks and the door starts to open. You are somewhat relieved to see your older brother in his police uniform.
"Bad doggy!" he said grabbing a newspaper that was sitting on the coffee table and swatting your nose. He shakes his head as you squat on the floor with your head hanging down.
He sighs, closes the door, inspects the couch, and then puts on some of those blue latex gloves that cops use to handle evidence. He grabs you by the ear and leads you to the bathroom. "Sometimes, bro, I don't know why I put up with you. I promised ma that I'd get you a job on the force, and the only openings we have now are for the K-9 unit."
Your ears perk up. You swear they are moving up the side of your head. He helps you into the bathtub on all fours, and says, "Stay!" He waves his finger at you again as you stare at him on all fours from inside the tub, and says firmly, "Stay, boy!"
He was expecting this? Getting you a job on the police force K-9 unit? You are confused. He's your bro - it's probably a prank. He's doing this to get back at you and your girlfriend for last week when you hired that transvestite to be your bro's blind date on your double date last Saturday. After dinner and a movie, the couples split up, you and your girlfriend went back to her place, and your bro and the guy in drag went wherever. You phoned him before things could have gone too far, and explained the hoax - well you explained it to his voice mail. It's his own fault that he didn't pick up.
Your bro re-enters wearing a rubber apron, surgical mask, and carrying a sponge and your bottle of bod.
"Good boy," he says when he sees you are still in the tub. You feel warm all over, you made him happy.
He kneels down and start evenly spreading the BOD with the sponge all over you. The smells get stronger as he scrubs, and you start hearing sounds from the neighbors and outside. The room seems to get duller. The walls seem less blue and more grey, and the yellow towels look paler almost white.
You like the sound of his voice, and he seems to be praising you, but you have to concentrate to understand the words, "That's a good boy, who's my good boy, you are going to be the smartest dog on the whole K-9 unit." You feel happy, and seem to lose focus as to what he is saying. You just enjoy his scent, the sound of his voice and the massage he is giving your progressively hairier -er, furry body.