Heaven was a big dick up my wife ass

My wife is a fantasy fuck, and she knows it. Drooling
drunks will tell her their fantasy. She’ll find a way
to make their fantasy come true, or do what she can
do, and I have to find a way to deal with it. She
doesn’t force dealing with it on me; in fact, she
feels badly that I must, but is thrilled that I do.

She will not look a gift dealer in the mouth, nor will
she make dealing any more difficult than she is sure
it must be. She tries to be sensitive, but her calling
comes first; her career (exotic erotic dancing) comes
second; her marriage comes third.

She does see giving men sexual adventures a calling.
She has a God-given gift, a God-given body to give
that gift, and the sex drive to make demanding gift
giving easy. She was not built to be a traditional
wife in a traditional marital role. Fidelity and
faithfulness were fine, but not for her. She never
promised that she could be or would be, or even
attempt to be. She, in fact, promised she wouldn’t be,
not even on the honeymoon if someone in need made his
need known to her.

She told me this after hearing my proposal of
marriage, then wanted me to sleep on my proposal and
ask again, unless I thought it over and realized how
difficult a marriage like that would be. She very much
wanted to be married, and she very much wanted to
marry me. We loved each other very much, but she felt
she had to be totally honest.

Fanny and I have known each other since early grade
school, and we were a steady item from puberty on, but
we went separate ways after graduation, and she went
on the day we were to get married. She couldn’t go
through with it and had to chase her dream, find her
dream, find herself. She needed time and simply left.
For two years, I had no idea where she was or what she
found, or if she was even alive.

When I met up with her again, she was a nude dancer in
a seedy dive that had bikers as bouncers and catered
to cheap, redneck, beer drinkers who stuffed folded
dollar bills in pussy cracks. If the dancer wouldn’t
take it that way, and let him feel-up her legs and ass
while he took his sweet time, she didn’t get his
dollar bill. This was one of those anything-goes-clubs
if the coast was clear. Whatever the dancer would do,
the club would allow if the green light over the moose
head was on.

The green light was on more than off, and pretty much
stayed on from two until closing, which was four in
the morning, but that was just when they locked up and
made the place look closed. For twenty bucks, you
could stay after closing, but you were locked in until
sunrise with no guarantee you’d get anything. To get
anything, cost something more, but for your twenty,
you get to watch those who could afford something, or
watch two dancers get it on, or a dog fuck a dancer,
or a dancer suck a dog, or every dick in the bar.
You’d see something worth twenty bucks.

You just don’t get anything but old, used-up, white-
trash whores working those places, which are sex clubs
more than strip bars, but there was Fanny looking like
a thoroughbred race horse tied into a circular string
of sway-back plow nags at a carnival horsy ride.

Made no sense, plus Fanny showed more, tolerated more,
and was one hell of an erotic dancer if you find crude
and vulgar erotic. In that club, to that crowd, that
was the definition – had to be both, and if the crude
and vulgar act got disgusting, what you had was highly
erotic shit, man.

She was the only one who would masturbate in a wide
beaver or fuck herself with a dildo while dancing. She
would put her pussy in guy’s faces and let them lick
around a dildo. Other’s tried, but couldn’t get a
licker. She drew big crowds, but Fanny started early
and always left by midnight. They hired Fanny to make
the slow time (four in the afternoon till midnight) be
a busy time, and she served as a great warm-up act to
the heavy, raunchy, sexual sideshows and sexual freak
shows the club was noted for.

She was into performing her exotic erotic dance
routines. She wanted nothing to do with whoring and
the sex sideshow activity that the late shift got
into.

I was in love with Fantasia Finney, my first and only
love who I had always known as Fanny, who they billed
as Princess Pussy, but most of the guys called Fuckin’
Fantasia or Dildo Dolly. I was her junior high and
high school sweetheart, her first love, first fuck,
her first and only steady (which to her meant the guy
she steadily gave sloppy seconds to), her junior and
senior prom date. She left me at the altar to go find
herself. Took me two years to find where she found
herself, and I stumbled onto her quite by accident.

I found her right where I lost her in the Houston
area. I was sure she headed up to the Dallas/Ft. Worth
area. I knew she wanted to get into exotic dance, and
I knew she wanted to try out for the Dallas Cowboys
Cheerleaders. I knew she liked getting naked, and had
a thing for masturbating for an audience, and she’d
perform for any group that wanted to see her do IT.
Everyone did – over, and over, and over again. No one
can do IT like my Fanny. That was her erotic thing.

I knew she liked dancing naked. That was another
“thing” she was famous for – exotic dancing – her
exotic thing. As a high school senior, she combined
her exotic thing and her erotic thing and her combined
exotic/erotic thing was a Fanny thing that you had to
see to believe. No other girl would dare try to do a
thing like Fanny’s exotic/erotic thing. Exhibitionist
sluts would watch Fanny and go, “Fuck it! No fuckin’
way, Jose’.”

I figured she wanted to find herself in a strip club
far from home. Every chance I got, I ran up to Dallas
and hit all the strip clubs, gentleman’s clubs, and
table dancing nightclubs that are popular up there. I
also hit all the other big cities within a thousand
miles of Houston.

Never a sign of Fanny’s fanny – tits, ass, or
unforgettable pussy – but her face always looked
familiar. She did have a classic, generic, pretty
blonde girl face no one gave a close look to because
in the presence of Fanny, there was so much to
distract a guy from face.

I also checked the Houston area, and checked often,
but I never checked any of the waterfront dives or
biker owned bars. Places like those were a waste of my
time, but I was working a job right across from Legs R
Us where you walk through a pair of spread female legs
with a real Beaver (stuffed, dam-building Beaver) at
the apex to enter.

The day was hot, the job was rough, I was twenty-one
and thirsty, and I knew that place had to have beer.
At four in the afternoon, you don’t see stripers
working, especially in a dumpy bar club. In most
raunchy sex clubs, the performing sluts don’t even
come in until midnight.

I walk in and there’s a buck naked stripper, doing a
one-arm swing around a brass pole, fucking herself
with a big rubber dick. She is fucking gorgeous little
thing, I mean drop-dead-fucking …FANNY!

“JEFF!”

“Fanny? … What? … Where? … who… why? … What
the fuck are you doing here?”

I felt a huge hand grip my shoulder like a steel
Beaver trap and a deep deep male voice say, “Do you
want I should toss him, Pussy.”

I thought, “Toss me pussy?”

Fanny says, “No. He’s a dear friend. Tell Jake I’m
taking an hour break.”

“No break, Pussy. You stay up till the first girl come
in. Jake’s rules, Pussy.”

“Fine, tell Jake I quit.”

“I’d rather tell him you broke a rule and took a
hour.”

While throwing on a short silk robe, she said, “Make
it two, and if I don’t get back, tell him I went home
sick. I am feeling a bit ill. I will be back in
tomorrow unless I get hassled.”

“Ain’t nobody gonna hassle you, Pussy. Anybody hassle
you, point me at ’em. Don’t matter who – Jake, a cop,
a grizzly bear, this cute pip squeak, don’t matter.”

“Thanks, Turk. Let’s go, Jeff.”

As we arrived at the legs, I stopped her and said, “I
came in to get a beer. I’m working the demolition job
across the street. I don’t care that you work here,
Fanny. If this is where you found yourself and you’re
happy here, I’m happy for you. I’m just glad I found
you. We don’t need to go anywhere, but it would be
nice if we could sit and talk a bit while I get a few
wet ones down me.”

She seemed very surprised by my attitude considering
what I walked in on. I see this gorgeous babe come
swinging around the pole working a dildo up her twat.
My eyes go right to that dildo and that stunning,
captivating pussy that reminded so much of Fanny’s
stunning, captivating pussy, never dreaming it was
Fanny’s stunning, captivating pussy shaved of all hair
with a gold ring through the clit.

You just don’t see dancers actually fucking
themselves, but she was, and she leaned back on the
pole with her legs wide and stood in a half squat,
watching herself fuck herself. She was fucking herself
in full strokes with a damn horse cock dildo with
balls. I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes.

Not only that, but she has about six guys right at her
feet, feeling up her legs and ass. You just don’t
touch dancers. That is never allowed. Their hands were
running all over her as far as they could reach. They
had to stay low so as not to block anyone’s view, but
three other guys on the side were okay to stand tall
and feel up her tits.

She stood right there in a sea of brawny male hands
roaming all over her body and fucked herself
sensuously. I never saw anything like that, ever,
anywhere. I never saw anything that fine do a dance
that vulgar in any kind of club.

I finally look to her face expecting to see a real dog
puss. It’s Fanny, looking pretty as ever. I go,
“FANNY!” Her head pops right up at the sound of my
very familiar voice. Her face turns red and falls as
she cried, “JEFF!”

I could see where she might think we needed to get
away. Especially when she took off on the day we were
supposed to get married. She left me a note and was
gone, and no one ever heard from her since then,
unless her family was in touch and keeping it from me.
That was possible. If she asked them to, they would
play dumb. We had some issues.

And she still had a dildo up her twat. Her dildo had a
snap clip on a strip of elastic that was attached to
the balls that she could use to snap to the ring
through her clit to hold the dildo in, or wrap around
the pole and snap back to itself, allowing her to use
both hands on the pole or herself as she made love to
the pole. This was a professional exotic erotic
performer’s dildo. I was sure she didn’t get that from
Dildos R Us. That was classic Fanny being creative.

She snapped in before throwing on her silk robe and
stepping off the stage. She was prepared to leave the
club that way after getting her purse, which she got.
She was leading me out when I said we didn’t need to
go. That did come as a shock, and I soon saw that she
took that as a pleasant shock.

She smiled and said, “We can talk here if you want.
Are you sure you don’t mind, because we can also go to
my place, which is three blocks away. It’s up to you,
but if I stay, I have to be naked and be using my
dildo, and be where the patrons can see it. I can snap
in to walk around, but if I’m on stage, or off and
standing still or seated, I have to keep it moving. I
get paid extra to abide by those conditions. If I’m in
the bar, I’m bound by the conditions.”

“Fanny, I’m fine with it, so we may as well stay
here.”

She smiled big and said, “Well, if you’re fine, I’m
fine. Beer’s on me. Have a seat. I’m going to tell
Matt that I’ll be working off stage for a while, and
I’ll have Wendy keep the beer coming. Won’t be a
minute.”

She trots over and loses the robe and purse, then
gives me a naked wave as she trots over to the bar,
then leans half over the bar to French kiss with this
big bruiser as another licks her bare ass. She is now
twenty, but still looks sixteen because she’s still a
cute little blonde, built hard, compact, and tight,
like a European sports car. She looks like a bundle of
energy and she is. She also looks sweet, soft, and
delicious, which she is.

The guy licking her ass is joined by another. They
decide to lift her ass and slide a barstool under her
knees. She’s still kissing or talking to the
bartender. She now has three guys fawning all over her
ass. They have unsnapped her dildo and are using it on
her, but that doesn’t seem to bother her, nor does all
the licking and fondling, and the seated patrons are
reaching in from both sides to play with her hanging
C-cup tits, and the only reason they hang is she is
pointing them straight down.

Fanny is ignoring all of this fawning attention while
talking with and kissing with the bartender. She is
kneeling on a barstool with her forearms resting flat
on the bar top, presenting quite a profile to me. It
seems that everyone has the right to feel her up, but
they must do it reverently and use the dildo easy, the
way she does.

I was seeing the same activity as I saw on stage. All
she had to do was stay in one place and she’d soon
have her fan club. She soon had them all back, and
they decided to place her knees on two stools, so they
did that.

She had one guy squeeze in between her and the bar so
he could lick her pussy. She had two on their knees,
and each had a foot. One kneeler was sucking her big
toe. The other was a foot lapper. Four others were
feelers, body lickers, and dildo movers, with Turk
standing off to the side keeping a watch on all that
activity like a cop seeing that house rules were
abided by.

Actually, he was a Pussy handler. She was his job.
They all seemed to know the rules. One seemed to be
that the dildo couldn’t come all the way out. The
dildo guy came a little too close and got a warning
bop from Turk.

Her just-a-minute was already five. She kept looking
over and giving me the one finger just-a-minute sign.
I’m sure she meant to be just a minute, but the
bartender kept kissing or had to tend the bar. She
spent several minutes just waiting while letting the
patrons enjoy her body.

I could see where a girl like Fanny would find herself
in a place where she could work naked and be fawned
over by so many hunky guys, where the rule was, you
had to keep fucking yourself with a dildo she was
literally attached to. I do know Fanny, and she may
have been dragging this out so that I could see how
she had it made before we discussed why she never made
it back.

I was wondering if she’d ever come back from the bar,
and when she came, would her fan club come with her.
The bar had at least thirty patrons. Most seemed more
interested in shooting the shit with guys, grabassing
the help, drinking at the bar, shooting pool, or
watching a big-screen TV. Fanny had seven who were
only interested in her.

I assumed all the others had had their fill. She
wasn’t the type to ignore unless they were so familiar
with her that other things meant more, although no one
passed by without giving her a friendly stroke, lick,
or feel of tit. She also kissed with anyone when her
mouth was up for grabs. Anyone could grab it and enjoy
a French kiss that she welcomed and enjoyed.

She always did love French kissing. That alone would
make this job a dream. She even Frenched with the
waitress who brought my pitcher over. I engaged Wendy
in conversation and learned that Pussy – Princess
Pussy – came to work there about four months ago, and
had been working under conditional contract for three.
Everybody loved her, and there were strict rules.
Everybody knew the rules. Wendy ran the rules by me,
and that was what she did for any new faces.

I heard all the rules I had been observing, and
learned that there was no penetration allowed except
by tongue or dildo. The dildo had to stay in the pussy
of Pussy, and you could put your tongue in her pussy
if you can get it in alongside the dildo. You could
play with her pussy ring but not lead her by it, and
if you hurt her, you get bounced hard. I was seeing
that and some asshole tonguing. Fucking amazing.

She really did have it made, was in very tight with
the owner, was well protected and very well paid. No
one knew how much but she was loaded and drove a new
Corvette Stingray that she owned free and clear. She
always wanted one of those. So much for getting her
back.

She finally came back and was snapped in. She took a
seat right beside me and faced her chair out toward
the seating area where her fans took seats and faced
their chairs her way. She made them a beaver,
unsnapped, then settled back and began moving her dick
in and out, sensuously, just as she had been doing on
stage, only she could take it out and did several
times to wet her nipples and lick it.

Just as she did on stage, she watched herself fuck
herself without saying a word to me with me looking
right down on it. I am right beside her, looking at
the same sight she is, and that was a sight,
especially when the dildo was out of the way. She is
doing a seated rolling grind, and she is slow, deep,
fucking herself. Un-fucking real.

She gets herself going good, then she looks to me and
smiles, then says, “I promised them a good show if
they would give me room to talk with an old friend.
Sorry, but it takes me a bit to get myself started. I
know this must be very distracting. We can still go to
my place if you want.”

I finally looked to her beautiful face and said,
“You’re as beautiful as ever, Fanny. Now, you’re
sexier than ever. We can talk here. I’ve seen you
naked before.”

“You were the first.”

“Yes, and the first time I saw your twelve-year-old
body with no clothes on, I said to myself, ‘That girl
is going to go far.’ I figure ten miles if you cut
through and don’t take the loop.”

She laughed and said, “I went all the way to the left
coast for a while, but I came back. I found myself
here, Jeff. When I found myself here, and loved it
here, I could never face you, or tell you. I prayed
you would never find out where I was and what I was
doing. You see what I do. You see what I am. I am
Princess Pussy.”

“But everyone calls you Pussy.”

“At first, they called me, Princess. I am everybody’s
girl, and nobody’s girl. The pussy belongs to the bar
on a month by month lease. Anyone in the bar can touch
it, lick it, play with it, because the pussy between
the legs of the Princess is bar pussy. I welcome any
and all sexual attention by the agreed upon rules, and
I must keep showing and fucking the bar’s pussy or let
someone else do it.”

“May I try?”

“I was hoping you would…and hoping you would still
want to kiss me.”

I most wanted to kiss her, so I did that first. She
melted into my kiss. The feelings were still there.
She kissed everybody good, but she kissed me with a
burning passion – a hunger for a lover’s kiss. I
forgot all about the dildo. She took my hand and
placed it there while we were kissing. I fucked her
like I missed her, and she responded like she missed
the way I made love to her.

Turk bopped me and said I couldn’t fuck her like that.
I drew her cock out and slapped that big motherfucker
right across his gorilla face. I shouldn’t have done
that.

That damn dildo really hurt my ass. I came-to in a
nice bed being attended by Fanny doctoring my injured
fanny. My face hurt bad, too. It felt like I stubbed
my face. I ached all over, but my ass was killing me.
Fanny saw that I was aware and groaning. She said,
“You dummy. I can’t believe you slapped Turk with a
dick. You are so lucky to be alive, Jeff. My god, what
made you do that?”

“Love, Fanny, frustrated love.”

“How can you still love me?”

“Tell me you don’t love me.”

“I won’t ever lie to you. I never stopped loving you,
and that’s why I left you.”

“You left me because you loved me. Well, I’m glad you
didn’t hate me. Your love almost killed me.”

“I couldn’t bear to hurt you. I knew how I was. You
deserve better.”

“I think you deserve better. Fanny, I still want you
to marry me.”

This is where she tells me to sleep on it and ask
again. Well, I slept on it and asked again, but I
wanted her to leave that job and try to live a regular
life. She figured the job would have to go, so she
said she’d give Jake two weeks. He wanted four. They
compromised at three, but she had to work the late
shift. She agreed and ended up working six weeks.

With Jake, it was always one more week, Pussy, just
one more week. She hated working the late shift, but
she always gave in until I said enough was enough. We
were husband and wife and were supposed to be on our
honeymoon, and she was fucking a bunch of dipshits,
sluts, and mutts, and willing to give him a seventh
week of fucking dipshits, sluts, and mutts. She really
did hate it, but felt she owed him and had a hard time
telling him no more.

She did quit, and we did go on a honeymoon to Hawaii.
She was loaded, like six figure loaded. We spent two
weeks in paradise and went first class all the way,
did everything, and had a dream honeymoon. She only
fucked about a dozen guys while on our dream
honeymoon, but for her, that was cutting back from a
dozen a day. She said she was being real good and
trying real hard to keep the cheating to no more than
one a day.

When she went a whole day without cheating, she was so
proud of herself that she could actually go a day
without cheating, which wasn’t really cheating since
we had a marriage where her fucking other men was
allowed. It wasn’t cheating but we both called it
cheating. I called it cheating because that was what
it was; she called it cheating because I called it
cheating. She didn’t care what I called it, but when
she needed the bed, sometimes all night, I needed to
find something else to sleep on or in.

I didn’t recall agreeing to that. My understanding was
that she could not promise to remain faithful. That’s
different than having the right to fuck whoever she
wants whenever she wants. I would not have agreed to
that, because you can’t live as man and wife with an
understanding like that. I don’t know what that is,
but it isn’t marriage, which was what I was proposing
and she accepted.

Our honeymoon wasn’t all dreamy. We had arguments but
not fights. We disagreed on a few minor points. After
many negotiations with Fanny, I gained a greater
respect, understanding, and admiration for Jake. He
also had my sympathy.

When you enter into negotiations with Fanny, you must
be prepared to give up everything you entered the
negotiations to get, and then some. By the time we
left paradise, not only did she have the right to
cheat with anyone at any time in our marital bed, but
I had to change the sheets and make the bed.

She did grant me one concession. She agreed to buy a
better couch and let me pick it out, since I would be
the only one sleeping on it – every fucking night all
night long. Fuck 🙁

Fanny and I made our love in the daytime. She loved
her love making with the only man she ever loved, but
nights were for fucking all kinds of men – IF, she
couldn’t work for Jake and do all of her fucking on
the job.

Fanny cheated me into submission. Three weeks after
the honeymoon, two hundred cheating acts after the
honeymoon, I cried UNCLE and let her enter
negotiations with Jake. I thought, that poor bastard.

Fanny got everything she wanted. In exchange for a
twelve-hour shift that went from four in the afternoon
until closing, she did no carnival acts, and all
fucking was free and at her discretion in a Princess
pleasure palace built over the bar that could only be
used by the princess and her prince, and their guests,
available and accessible twenty-four hours a day,
seven days a week, all utilities paid and cable TV
with all the movie channels.

He fucking built it, and I ended up living over and in
a sex circus where my wife was the queen of all the
fucking acrobats. For me, this was Heaven. I loved
Legs. Legs was a guy’s wet dream, and I got to call
Legs home, eat and drink free, play with and be
friends with all the performers. I got to do all the
shaving I wanted to do.

I massaged the sluts between acts and between legs in
Legs. I took care of the animals. I watched everything
for free and got to stay up late every night, even on
school nights and work nights, because I didn’t have a
job or go to school. I just did what I fucking wanted
to do, because I was Da Prince.

Jake and I became good friends. I was a big help, a
free handyman, do anything to help the bar – the bar’s
go-to guy. Jake very much appreciated having a
Princess with a Prince-ofa-guy.

Turk and I were buddies. He had great respect for me.
I was a ballsie little fucker. He liked me a lot. I
was Da Prince. “Nobody messes with Da Prince. Anybody
messes with De Prince, you point me at ’em.”

“I appreciate that, Turk.”

Turk liked me too much. We became the very closest of
buddies, bosom buddies, real pals, inseparable. Turk
liked fucking me. I mean, he really really enjoyed
fucking Da Prince. Working me over with that dildo did
something to that gorilla. It wasn’t a homosexual
romantic thing, no kissy kissy mushy mushy shit. This
was a very manly thing.

He just was nuts about my smooth, muscular, slim,
trim, almost hairless boy-body. He loved holding my
naked boy-body to his very masculine monstrosity of
hairy male flesh. Mostly, he loved fucking my sexy
ass, or fucking my sexy gullet, or jacking off into my
sexy sucking mouth, and he loved watching me eat cum
or lick his cum off his manly cock and balls, then eat
it.

I lived a wet dream within a wet dream, for I was
Turk’s bitch, his fucker boy, his punk, his boy toy,
Turk’s Prince. My wife, the Princess, thought we made
such a cute couple. Her idea of Heaven was a big dick
up her ass, a bigger one in her pussy, one in each
hand, while sucking another, and still being able to
see Turk enjoying his Prince. Turk was welcome in my
only sanctuary anytime, day or night.

Fuck 🙁

I could end this story here and leave you feeling
sorry for me. I gotta tell you the truth. Yes, at
first, I hated Turk’s affection. There is nothing
queer or effeminate about me, but his manly affection
did start to feel pretty good, and his semen did taste
pretty good.

The man does have a very strong masculine cock, and,
well… I kinda liked the way he held me, caressed me,
possessed me, and… made me feel like a very sexy
little girl when he fucked me. I liked being owned,
and I was, because the Princess gave me to him. Turns
out, I like being pussy whipped and manhandled. Put
the two together, you have my kind of exotic erotic
thing.

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