Page 23 of Time Out

The stage lights clunk, throwing harsh light across the small dance floor and making the chrome pole glimmer. The music is some thumping techno bass, just whatever was queued up when I turned the machine on. It thunders through me as I take my seat right up next to the elevated platform as my wife steps out from behind the curtain.

In the past year, she’s become my world. We’ve added two more special needs black Labs to our growing doggy family, playmates for Cyclops and Dumdum.

Black Labs are sweet, but man, they are not the brain trust, that’s for sure. But they are so fucking sweet. I’m not sure who loves the dogs more, me or Fay.

But, yeah, my wife does love her dogs. Seeing her with them sometimes sparks that jealous streak I have when it comes to her, but I’ve worked it out in other ways. Ways she wasn’t too sure about at first, but turns out, my sweet, chubby princess has a dirty fucking mind.

She’s a ten out of ten in every category.

My wife has started working at the shelter, with me watching her every moment, but I haven’t forgotten where it all started. Neither has she, and before this old strip-club becomes a family-friendly haven for introverts all over the city, we thought we might just give it a last send off.

No Harley Quinn this time, just one of my shirts and nothing else. That look is so sexy. I like touching her, and when I’m not, I like my things touching her. Or dripping out of her.

I feel my dick swell the instant I see her, and I don’t think there will ever be a time that doesn’t happen. Fay is everything.So perfect. And seeing her like this, her belly round with our child, couldn’t be sexier.

She takes hold of the pole, leaning away from it and swaying with the music, tossing her head back to let her milk chocolate color hair flow over her shoulders and down her back. No acrobatics today—we’re not going to take any risks with the little one—but Fay and I have been dancing every chance we get, and where once she might have worried about being uncoordinated she’s now nothing but perfection.

Her gaze meets mine, her eyes sultry and provocative. She doesn’t say a word, but swings against the pole and thrusts her hip.

“Work it, babygirl,” I murmur in a throaty growl, my mouth dry with need. I spread my legs and lower my zipper as she shyly unbuttons the shirt, nipping at her bottom lip, strutting away from me, then turning around, flashing me those epic fucking tits and my heart nearly stops.

Like it does every time.

They’re swollen now, with dark veins starting to be more visible under the skin, and I can’t wait for them to be full of sweet milk.

She grabs the pole with one hand, swings in time with the music, and reaches down, caressing her belly, sliding her fingers down between her legs, and I can’t hold back. I pull my cock from my boxers and give it a hard jerk, enjoying the way her eyes light up at the sight of me. We lock eyes as we both start to fuck our own hands, separated by a few feet but making love in every way that counts.

When she drops onto all fours and crawls to the edge of the stage, her heavy tits hanging down and swaying, her lush curves on full display, I nearly nut. She keeps coming, finally laying down and licking her lips, and it’s like time stops.

She’s the center of the universe for me. My little girl and my wife.

“How am I doing, Daddy?” she simpers, popping her mouth, and I know this isn’t enough. Not that anything will ever be enough with her, but right now, I need to feel my dick inside my wife’s warm, loving hole.

“Stay right there, like that,” I tell her. “Daddy’s going to show his little girl just how good she is. Get on your knees baby, I know what you like.”

“You are one handsome Great Dane,” she says, assuming the position on a sexy wink, giving me the go ahead for our fucked-up little fantasy.

She’s ass up and head down, wagging her butt as I drop my pants and unbutton my shirt, and get into position to mount her from behind.

“A big dog with a big, fat swollen knot, all for you, little girl.” I guide my throbbing rod to her slick opening. “You ready to get fucked by a dog? Is that what you want?”

She whimpers, pushing her hips back. Nothing is off limits with our fantasy talk. This little scenario is rare, but every once in a while, I like to get down deep into the depravity with her. It fucking makes hergush.

“You’ll do anything for Daddy, remember?” I groan, her wet head surrounding me, making my nuts draw up.

She nods as I feed her the first inch, her mouth opening in a silent moan. “Yes, anything.”

“Good girl. Just remember, it’s our secret. Now, guide that dick inside, baby, show me how much you want it. Feel that fur on your ass.” I reach up, running my nails down her back. “Those claws digging in, holding you in place…”

“Oh, God, Daddy.” She’s gushing around me already as her shaking hand reaches under, fingers curling around my shaft and pushing it inside her welcoming body. “It’s so good.”

“It’s going to get better.” The words are low and heady. “Get ready, this dog’s gonna pump, pump, pump inside you.” I buck my hips, fast, faster, faster, until our flesh is slapping together, and I’m driving the air from her lungs in short, panicked bursts.

The fantasy takes hold, and it’s so wrong but so right, because she’s sobbing out a blinding, writhing orgasm within seconds as I cover her back with my chest, my hips churning, churning, hands gathering those big, mother earth tits into my squeezing fingers, loving every sick second. Every glorious inch of my ample, supple, big, beautiful, sexy wife.

I push her to another orgasm before I let my own take me.

We are panting and sweat-covered when we come down, and I gather her from her knees and onto my lap as the alarm on my phone goes off on the table.

---