Another Perfect Loving Wives Tale

This piece is a tribute to PacullaAnnia's brilliant parody story, "The Perfect Loving Wives Tale."

To borrow PA's words verbatim, this story "...is in response to the true comments of certain critics here on Literotica, as well as being based on the high ratings certain stories get in this category, but any resemblance to real people, alive or dead, is purely embarrassing to those people."

~ ~ ~

Pollyanna stood before the full-length mirror, simply admiring herself.

She was just incredibly hot.

'Gosh, I'm just incredibly hot,'

she mused delightedly to herself.

Incongruous, you say, for Pollyanna to be standing nude in front of a mirror...in the fighter's locker room of Madison Square Garden?

Not at all. This was a big night for her. UFC 1,475: "Revenge of the Thrice Offended" was on tap, and Pollyanna was there. Even though Pollyanna was just incredibly hot, she was also a news reporter, and somehow she always ended up naked in such environs.

~ ~ ~

Pollyanna and her meticulously put-together yet achingly envious friends met weekly for baklava and the filling out of wedding invitations. Once the pleasantries were dispensed with, conversation would inevitably turn to the topic of Pollyanna and her latest episode of finding herself completely naked in the company of hunky, horny, and equally naked men.

"It just sort of seems to keep happening to me! Good thing I'm married, though, huh, otherwise I might be tempted to suck all their awesome cocks dry, gorging myself on a never-ending bounty of yummy, cum-filled balls. Some of these guys, jeepers, their delicious beanbags are as big as a water buffalo's!" giggled Pollyanna coquettishly.

The well-put-together hens would all cackle in jealous agreement.

Although Pollyanna was forty-three, her loving husband always said she really only looked thirty-four-and-a-half. Then there were the buff, tanned, mule-dicked lifeguards who swore to her that she had a body any nine-year-old cheerleader would die for.

~ ~ ~

Back in the UFC dressing room, a naked Pollyanna was sucking sweetly on her pen as she stood hungrily--though not inappropriately--checking out all the naked men.

The Great Gustavo looked over at her. He was six-foot-six, two hundred and seventy pounds of jungle-pigmented reigning UFC heavyweight champ; a fierce warrior, for whom the term 'fierce warrior' was likely coined, and both he and his legendary fourteen-inch "Anaconda of Love" were checking out Pollyanna.

Just a moment earlier his pile-driver cock had only been eleven and three-quarters inches, with a width of four and seven-eighths inches, and the circumference of a "Big Gulp" Slurpee. He was flaccid then. That was before his feral eyes alighted on Pollyanna's preening

"nuditity,"

as he referred to it, the sight of which made his incredible jousting spear grow steely hard and downright erect. He quickly shot up to his usual fourteen inches; nay, he pushed past fifteen, and his head spun from loss of oxygen.

"Nuditity!" he said to no one in particular, letting loose his manic third-world laugh. "I love that word. It's funny!"

In addition to being painfully dimwitted, Gustavo was also easily amused. There was one famous occasion when Heinrich the Hun tricked him into missing their match simply by rolling a colorful ball of yarn across the floor of the locker room twenty minutes before show time.

Gustavo was leering stupidly at Pollyanna's firm bottom when, like a dull thud, he was struck by inspiration. Reaching into his locker, he pulled out a quarter from his caiman hide fanny pack and flicked it at her naked, ripe butt cheek, bouncing the quarter off of her tight ass.

'I bet I could bounce a quarter off of my tight ass,'

Pollyanna mused delightedly to herself.

Pollyanna was highly prone to musing delightedly to herself.

Her tight ass was such a tight ass that she was well used to quarters haphazardly bouncing off of her tight ass. She had simply come to expect it--quarters being launched off of her tight ass--wherever she went.

'It makes me happy,'

she mused delightedly to herself.

Risking a glance around the locker room, she saw that she was surrounded by naked, sweaty, virile, granite-ab'd fuck puppets. Her bladder voided as she sighed through another earth-shattering public orgasm.

'Had I not been raised in a convent aboard a lunar space module, golly, I might be sorely tempted by all this mouthwatering cock meat bouncing around my face,'

she decided, realizing she was so horny that it made her tongue itch.

'I mean, sure, I suppose I might be tempted to act inappropriately around all these gorgeously well-endowed hunks with bodies that just make me want to bend myself backward to piss down my own voracious gullet,'

she mused rather candidly to herself,

'but then not every woman with an ass you could bounce a quarter off of is married to Sledge, like I am. I would never behave inappropriately! I'm happily married!'

she finished musing, giggling to herself.

Standing there like that, with two fingers buried deep inside her tight ass while glistening baby oil dripped from her excited and downright inhumanly long inch-and-a-half nipples, Pollyanna felt safe, content, and not the least bit inappropriate.

Sure, she was driving relentlessly in and out of her taut, quivering, and audibly queefing ass. Yes, her seventeen-carat diamond wedding ring was making mincemeat of her anal sphincter with each bludgeoning stroke, and blood was pouring down her perfectly smooth, shiny thighs.

'That's okay,'

she mused delightedly to herself.

'A little anal blood never hurt anybody, and Sledge bought me this ring. If my darling, sensitive, and incredibly wise husband didn't want me to rip my asshole open while standing totally nude inside a men's locker room full of hot, naked cock swords, then gosh darn it, he wouldn't have bought me such a big, pretty ring! He did, though, because I'm the luckiest woman in the whole world!'

Gustavo, incensed and inflamed as always by the sight of blood, scurried over to bury his bearded face in Pollyanna's hemorrhaging ass.

'That feels tingly!'

she mused delightedly to herself, giggling as she glanced down at Gustavo happily noshing away on her bloody bottom.

'It's a good thing I'm married! Sure, it tickles, being eaten like this, and I'm about ready to let him wear me like a sombrero, but it still doesn't feel quite as wonderful as when my sweet, caring husband jams whole pineapples up there during our live webcam shows. Everything with Sledge is just the best! I love my eternally devoted man!'

~ ~ ~

Thirty thousand feet over Punta Gorda, Belize, Sledge was deep in thought.

"Cocktail, Mister Hammer?" offered the pretty nineteen-year-old stewardess, interrupting Sledge's furrowed-brow reverie.

Miranda was the daughter of Sledge's personal pilot. She was studying at the local university to become a veterinarian because she wanted to help fluffy kittens. She also enjoyed helping her beloved father, so she was subbing that day as a stewardess for his flight.

"Mister Hammer? Would you like a cocktail?" she again politely offered.

"I'm married, you whore!" barked Sledge, deftly knocking the startled girl to the floor with a violent backhand.

'Good thing I took off my brass knuckles in the john,'

he decided, nudging the unconscious girl with his boot.

'Don't need the hassle when we land of having to explain another crushed face.'

Excitedly rubbing his tumescent little trouser hamster, he grimaced and mused out loud, "Damn, I need a new cock pump."

Indulging himself in a few blissfully uninterrupted moments of lurid fantasies, he fingered the six-inch scar that ran diagonally across his left cheek.

Sledge's story to Pollyanna was that he had gotten the scar while single-handedly rescuing fourteen of his platoon buddies during the evacuation of Saigon.

"You know, babe...the 'Nam. Dark times...bad things..." he gravely intoned, shuddering convincingly before turning away to sob like a little bitch into his pillow.

He'd said he caught a hunk of shrapnel in his grill when he attempted to deflect an incoming mortar round with his skull, like the former World Cup soccer star he had also told her he used to be...before that damn war changed everything.

She'd felt so badly for her brave and apparently formerly athletic hero. "Gosh, Sledge, you were a World Cup soccer star, even with your clubbed feet? How brave! That darn war!"

Her face had been wet with tears, but it wasn't nearly as wet as her oh-so-gullible pussy.

He'd patiently patted her on the head before draining his tiny nuts in her ear.

Sledge didn't mind that Pollyanna was just too plumb stupid to realize that a forty-year-old man in the year 2009 would have barely been out of kindergarten when Saigon fell.

He didn't mind, because he didn't want Pollyanna to discover the real reason for his scar.

~ ~ ~

It was 1988...and fucking Billy Bob Babbit. That asshole never could keep his big yap shut.

Sledge--or "Ball Peen," as he was usually referred to behind his back by his college buddies--was enjoying one of his fraternity's quarterly gangbangs. That particular soiree involved the successful rounding up of a gaggle of blind, autistic chicks to serve as lurching entertainment for the entire house. Granted, those girls didn't do a whole lot in the sack, but they also didn't protest much, so all in all the guys were more than happy with the evening's fare.

There they were, just hammering the bejeezus out of a bunch of bewildered girls straight off the short bus. The frat dorks had them lined up in a row, and Sledge was dutifully taking his turn in one particularly hirsute Iowa farm girl's ass.

Everything was going fine, right up until Billy Bob Babbit started laughing and calling for everyone to check out Sledge bleating away at poor, blind Doreen.

Wanting to see what all the commotion was about, everyone stopped fucking.

"Hey, everybody, check out Sledge's tiny wiener!" roared Billy Bob.

Everybody did check it out. Fully erect, it was a shit-smeared, angry little four inches. It looked like a chocolate-covered PEZ dispenser.

Laughing hysterically, Billy Bob flopped his ginormous wang on top of Sledge's head.

Mortified, Sledge quickly turned to run away...

...and that's when it happened...the moment that would change Sledge's life forever....

As he turned to run, Sledge's face ran smack-dab into a GIANT BLACK COCK! Not just any GIANT BLACK COCK either, but a GIANT BLACK COCK adorned with a diamond stud on the underside of its GIANT BLACK COCKHEAD.

The initial launching of Sledge's head onto the GIANT BLACK COCKHEAD caused the diamond stud to lacerate and imbed itself into Sledge's face. Stunned, yet also lip-smackingly excited, Sledge didn't make a move.

Lexington Whitechickdeflowerer, said owner of GIANT BLACK COCK, well, he correctly took Sledge's lack of protest and obviously worshipful gaze as a go-ahead, and that's exactly what Lex did. He went ahead and took Sledge by the ears and dug that diamond stud into his face, before letting Sledge do the rest of the work.

At last discovering his true nature, Sledge happily dragged his cheek up and down the shaft of the GIANT BLACK COCK; in the process, ripping his face a new one.

~ ~ ~

Descending from thirty thousand feet, Sledge smiled as he fingered his scar. When the stewardess groggily began to stir, he gave her a good kick.

"Slut," he muttered disdainfully.

~ ~ ~

Pollyanna was enjoying her massage. She always enjoyed her massages. She thought it utterly delightful and proof positive of Sledge's faithful devotion to her that he insisted she receive her weekly massage from such an incredibly large, well-built, shiny-headed black man whose mere presence made her want to scream with a womb-like gurgling wetness.

'Sledge is so gosh darn sweet,'

she mused delightedly to herself, gazing upon the ebony god's massive cunt-plower swaying unrestrained in his white M.C. Hammer pants.

'Did I just think of it as a massive cunt-plower?'

she asked herself, with a silent giggle.

She thought it over a bit further.

'It's a good thing I have such a caring, loving husband, otherwise I might be tempted! Yes, I'd probably find myself yodeling in Portuguese if I gave in to the temptation of letting Lex spread my ass and ram me again with his giant pussy-punisher.

'Then again, gosh, Sledge is so considerate of my happiness that he would probably enjoy watching me breastfeed our twin mulatto baby boys! He's so good to me!'

When Lexington ordered Pollyanna to roll over onto her back, she giggled and did as Sledge's old college frat buddy instructed.

Staring worshipfully up at the suddenly naked god of a man, she delightedly mused to herself,

'Now isn't he clever! He had clothes on just a moment ago! Gosh, Sledge is so kind and generous, giving jobs like this to his college friends. It's so wonderful, the way my little gerbil stayed in touch with his old fraternity buddies. Well, at least he stayed in touch with Lexington...only Lexington, actually. Hmmm. I wonder why Sledge doesn't really talk much about his other college buddies?

'Oh, well, I think it's just great that he lets Lex work on me! What a selfless husband!'

decided Pollyanna, with smug satisfaction.

Lexington politely ignored the large puddle of cum Pollyanna had just squirted onto the massage table.

Lying on her back, Pollyanna looked around the room, silently taking stock of her life...

'Married on prom night, to this day I've never kissed another boy. Oh, sure, Sledge has me perform for most of his friends, all of his co-workers, loads of repairmen, the gardener, the milk man, our neighbor the ex-con, and the Girl Scouts troop that always comes around with their adorable little outfits and tasty cookies. That's different, though. That's okay. My ass always heals up quickly. Besides, my loving husband really seems to enjoy it when we occasionally nudge up against the boundaries of proper marital propriety.

'I'm positive he only wants what's best for me!

'That time we had all the guys from the rugby team over for dinner, drinks, and a little stripper pole action? Well, come on, he had it installed in our den, didn't he? He paid good money for that thing, dear heart that he is. It's not like I could displease him by not using it in front of all the guys, right?'

Suddenly she felt sad over her vapid musings.

'Poor Sledge, he suddenly got called away to the office...again. He missed all the fun! Gosh, I just hate how he always seems to get called away to the office every time we entertain friends or repairmen. He misses everything!

'He's never here when Lexington comes over, either. Sledge, my cherished soul mate, you truly work too hard,'

she decided, which really made her sad.

'There I was, waking up a few hours later, after all the guys had left. I found myself in a puddle of pee, my hair matted, my asshole bleeding again--gosh!--and my eyes were caked shut with what felt like twenty gallons of gooey rugby player splooge!

'That Sledge, he's such a kidder! Has any wife ever been blessed with a husband who has such a keen sense of humor? God, he makes me laugh. So what if after his little pranks are over I can't shit for a week? Laughter is chicken soup for the soul.

'Yes, Pollyanna, life is good...thanks to your amazing man.

'Sledge is such a great provider, too! There's our thirty-four thousand square-foot mansion in the hills, overlooking New York City. I didn't even know there were hills near New York City! And there are hardly any big, tall buildings spoiling my view of the desert! He is just so clever!

'Our house is paid for, too, in gold bullion bars.

'And what about our vacation homes in Tehran, Beirut, Tripoli, Addis Ababa, and Peshawar? I mean, seriously, what other husband is such a considerate and caring sweetie that he always takes his adoring wife with him on business trips to the Bekaa Valley?

'Sledge knows the most interesting people! We always have so much cash stashed around the house! I'm so blessed!

'Then there's the gold-plated bidet with the turbo option, the stuffed animal heads, the dungeon down in the basement, and all these guns everywhere! Oh, and the hidden cameras! Golly! Has any woman ever felt more safe and secure in her home than I do? He's so protective of me.

'Gosh, Sledge, even those penis pump toys you're always using! You're such a goof!'

Moaning, she looked up at Lexington and purred, "Mmmmmm, yes, right there, Lex. Don't mind the puddle, baby. Just keep pounding deeper and harder, you deliciously naughty primate!"

Shaking his head incredulously, Lexington kept powering into her as she resumed her delighted musings...

'Where was I? Oh, right. Sledge, darling, you just want to be big for me...as if! Like I really care about that! Oh, Sledge, my dearest, you're so darned considerate. Even though you see how I literally drool over the sight of huge fucking cocks that can show me pleasure you never could, and despite knowing I'm perfectly peachy keen with your tiny penis...still you want to try to please me. Sledge, you just keep flogging away at your little guy with that medieval contraption. I know my wonderful mini-stallion's heart is in the right place.

'Have I told you lately how much I love the way you always wave guns around whenever we go out together? It's soooo sexy. Other men have big dicks and interesting things to say, and they make me want to fuck them like a cum-addled nympho on crack. So what! You have something they don't have. You have lotsa guns!

'You're so cool, Sledge, my hyper-masculine manly man. I'm so fortunate to be your pet. I mean, seriously, how many other wives are lucky enough to have a sexy husband who used to be a general in the Navy Sea Horsies during that Korean War thingie? How many women have husbands who beat up leering valets and flirty maître d's...like all the time!

'I do!

'That decorator guy who came over with all the color swatches, he never stood a chance, you big fucktickle. You came up behind him and clubbed him with that old musket, simply because he looked at me. You were awesome! I mean, come on, he totally deserved it! I was just sitting there in the kitchen with him, completely naked, minding my own business, and he was being...improper! He was looking at my spectacular thirty-eight double-D tits that you insisted on buying for me, my tender and caring manny-man!

'You were being a perfectly reasonable husband! That guy was begging to get clobbered from behind, and you were just the man to do it!'

She giggled as she looked up playfully at her weekly massage-giving incubus. "Oh, god, Lexington! How improper! Don't stop, though! Keep going! Deeper! Harder! I'm almost there again, you magnificent beast! Faster! Yes, just like that! Fuuuuck meeee!" she rather inappropriately cried out, writhing in sheer monkey lust.

'Sledge...oh, Sledge...my perfect, wonderful husband! I'd marry you all over again, a hundred times more!'

she mused delightedly, just musing herself silly.

~ ~ ~

Sledge's Blackberry was exploding. Sighing, he lifted the young boy's head from his lap. "Hold on, kid, stop for a second. I gotta take this one...."

He checked his message...

When will you be home, sweetie bear? Your honey bunny is very horny, and you know what happens when you leave her here all alone!

;-)

'Home?'

thought Sledge ironically.

Tossing the Blackberry aside, he tugged open his pants and pushed the poor Guatemalan refugee's head back down into his lap.