Dixie Delight

Dixy Delight and the China Dolls

Among showgirls, Dixy Delight was a headliner, not some meth-wasted emasculated stripper; her drug of choice was cocaine. Dixy (real name Debbie Johnson) was 26 years old but looked as if she may have just turned 18, she danced with all the energy of a coke high, and made enough in tips to pay for her drugs. Somewhere deep in her stripper mind she had the instincts of an entrepreneur. At 5'3" she was a great looking woman, bob cut blond hair, cute face, perky tits, trim figure and a perfect round ass.

She was waiting in the wings at the Southern Gentlemen's Club in Memphis when the tall man walked in and took a seat. Watching him lumber in and flop down in the second row, she immediately made up her mind that he was going to be the beneficiary of her attention for her 5:00 pm show. Part of Dixy's routine was to pick out a man, or sometimes a woman, to focus on. While the entire audience got to enjoy her talents and view her flesh, the audience usually came away with the impression that there was one lucky person whom she was probably going to fuck when her show was over.

When Dixy came on stage the music came up in volume and tempo. The old phrase "strip tease" didn't apply well to Dixy, there wasn't much teasing involved and the stripping was quick. Much of her act was spent on the floor or bent over a chair where she was humping and grinding into every man's fantasy. Laying on her back her hips moved at a frantic pace as if she getting the fucking of a life time and meeting every stroke with her own hip thrust. On her hands and knees with her perfect ass pushed back toward the audience, every stiff dick in the crowd was thinking "doggie style." Her tits flopped as if she was taking a pounding and when a pastie fell off she didn't bother putting it back. Her moaning would have convinced a blind man that she was getting well fucked on stage. Her facial expressions somewhere between pain and pleasure made every man imagine it was his cock that was bringing her such pleasure.

She stepped on the first row of tables, turned and wiggled her ass within inches of the faces of two drooling men. When she stepped over their heads and onto the second row of tables, she stopped in front of the tall man. With her pussy within an inch of his nose she leaned over and whispered something into his ear. When he stuck his tongue out, she pulled her tiny thong to the side and humped his face. Turning around she used her hands to spread her ass cheeks and gave him a facial butt bump. By that time the strap of her thong was loaded with bills and every dick in the building was stiff and dripping. When the big guy tucked a $20 between her butt cheeks they all assumed that he was going to be getting his dick wet soon.

Dixy pointed the tall man toward one of the private lap dance rooms and stepped back on the stage to gather up the bills and take her bows. She returned for an encore and pulled the sequented thong to the side and gave hip thrusts in all directions, then picked up more stage money. For a second encore she faced the audience ass first and made her butt jiggle without moving her hips at all, then accepted a few more bills in her butt crack and pussy lips as she left the stage with sweat dripping off her body from the exertion.

As the next dancer came out on the stage Dixy slipped out from behind a curtain on the side of the stage and into the private booth, the tall man was waiting. She pulled up a chair on either side of the chair he was sitting on and put her foot up on one side, then put her hands on the tall man's head and stepped up on the other chair, brushing her now naked tits across his face as she pulled herself up. Still holding him by the back of the head she began her bump and grind, her thong covered pussy directly into his face. To Dixy the big guy looked and smelled like a real man and she was interested in more than a no touch lap dance. He was wearing a pair of cut off jeans that looked like they had been roughly cut off by small gnawing rodents; between the legs were two thread bare spots as if his dangling balls were wearing through the extremely faded and tattered denim. His black t-shirt had the arms cut off crudely, exposing bulging muscles. She reversed her feet so she was turned around with her ass in his face. She bent over to make a hands-on equipment check. Satisfied that he was proportionally endowed with a cock as oversized as the rest of his body, she knew she had found her man for the day. When she finished her dance he took a wad of bills out of his pocket but she gave him a crouch grab and pushed the money back into his pocket and asked him to meet her out in the parking lot.

To his fellow officers, Joe Ferguson was known as "the world's tallest undercover cop." It's difficult for a 6'7" man to go undercover, but it worked for Joe just because it seemed so unlikely that someone who stood out so much would be anything other than what he claimed to be. Only 30 years old, Joe was not just tall, he was well muscled with six pack abs and powerful arms and a huge mop of unruly and prematurely grey hair. He was on loan to Memphis from Birmingham through an undercover exchange arrangement.

Joe didn't grow up with dreams of becoming a cop, he planned to be a baseball player. He was a hard hitting left handed outfielder with a million dollar arm. In the country towns where he played ball in the summer and through high school there were legendary stories about home runs landing across the street and half a block beyond the outfield fence. Every coach he ever had wanted to turn him into a pitcher. He could throw hard, but throwing strikes was something Joe had a problem with.

Big league scouts came around to see him in high school, they always asked the coach to have him pitch, he had the body and arm strength of a major league closer, and he was a lefty. In a regional tournament during his senior year in high school with several scouts in the bleachers, Joe caught a fly ball is straight away center field with one out and a runner on third. The runner tagged and hustled toward home in what should have been an easy score. Joe cut loose with a throw that never got over head high and reached the catcher six inches off the ground and six inches on the third base side of home plate, the runner was still a stride and a half away when the ball arrived.

With a six run lead in the top of the last inning, the coach decided it was now or never for Joe to get a shot at the biggs, he put him in to pitch. Amazingly Joe didn't hit anybody, he didn't throw behind anybody, he didn't throw it over the backstop, and he struck out the side. The radar guns the scouts were holding registered in three digits. Joe got his shot and headed off to the minor leagues that summer. Over the next six years a series of pitching coaches, personal trainers, sports psychologists, a couple ministers, and several veteran pitchers and catchers did their best to turn the million dollar arm into a major leaguer, to no avail. Joe would strike out the side in one inning but couldn't hit the broad side of a barn the next. When they tried to teach him to throw a curve ball, players in both dug outs would put on their mitts and be on high alert just in case. It wasn't safe to stand in the on deck circle and people in the press box at the top of the bleachers behind home plate were ready to duck. Fortunately no one was seriously injured, but he did break a few batting helmets.

Some teams even gave Joe a shot as an outfielder, defensively he was solid, his arm was outstanding, but he hit like Michael Jordan; he could hit a fast ball a mile, but would swing and miss a curve ball by a yard. After several years they gave up on him and he returned home. After loafing around for a few months he applied and was accepted into the police academy. Word around town was that they wanted him so he could play on the police slow pitch softball team where he continued to hit monster home runs in the beer leagues for years to come.

Joe was leaning against his rusted and well used old Ford 150 pick-up when Dixy came out wearing short cut-off jeans, a stretch tank top and clunky platform shoes. She gave him a smile as she walked past, got into the passenger side of the truck, and put her feet up on the greasy tool box that was sitting on the floor. Joe got in behind the wheel, backed out of the parking space and pulled up to the street before looking over at her as asking, "where we going?"

"Somewhere private," she said. With her feet propped up on the tool box, her legs spread wide and her nipples poking through the tank top Joe had no doubt that she was bare-assed and braless under the skimpy outer clothes. There are not a lot of private places to park in downtown Memphis during rush hour, but Dixy directed him to a narrow parking spot off an alley just a block away, this wasn't her first rodeo.

By the time he turned off the engine and set the parking brake her ragged jeans were around her ankles and she was reaching for his belt buckle. She squealed in delight when she pulled out his oversized cock that hadn't yet reached full strength. "I haven't had one this big in months," she said, reminding Joe that he was definitely not going to be poking her well used cunt without a condom.

She went to work on him with hands and mouth first. One tiny hand wrapped around his double XL cock, balls overflowing on both sides of her other hand, her mouth only barely large enough to take him in, but she handled him like the pro she was.

"So, what did I do to deserve this incredible free blow job?" Joe asked. Dixy keep on expertly sucking, licking, jerking, squeezing and probing. "Or maybe it isn't free," Joe said, "its certainly a good enough blow job to be worth a lot of money."

"How the fuck am I suppose to talk with this big dick in my mouth?" she replied, "shut up and let me suck you off." Joe sat back and enjoyed her oral abilities. It wasn't long until she came up for air and announced, "I need some dick."

With the precision and skill of a surgeon she rolled an X-large condom on Joe and moved into position to begin slowly working the big cock into her needy pussy. She took it slow, knowing just how to let her muscles adjust as she took the long and large monster in at a measured and determined pace. When she had it buried to the hilt she began moving her hips ever so slowly, fully aware of what it took to ride the pony. She had had bigger, but not many and not often. Joe, meanwhile, had his massive hands wrapped around her butt cheeks and was assisting her particularly well in her down strokes as she rose up and slammed down engulfing the full measure with ever hump.

As the pace quickened, Dixy's volume went up as well until she was panting, screaming and demanding that Joe fuck her harder, deeper, and faster. She let out a clenching scream that Joe took to be a real orgasm and his cue to unload. When she sensed the imminent twitching in his cock she hopped off ripped off the condom and attempted to position her mouth to catch his load. She was just a little late and the first blast coated her entire face, but she soldiered on and managed to engulf the last several eruptions.

When they both calmed down a bit Joe directed her to the glove box for some fast foot napkins to wipe her face off, she licked his dick clean as well. "I'm hungry, how about we go find something to eat?" she said. Following her directions they soon arrived at a Denny's restaurant, at least her taste in food was not expensive. Dixy ordered breakfast, the big breakfast which included pancakes, eggs, sausage, potatoes and toast, it was about 7:00 pm. She explained that she usually only eats breakfast type food and often only once a day, she had a preference for "breakfast any time" restaurants.

Joe used his undercover cop skills to get her talking and learn as much as possible about her, Dixy used her hooker skills to draw Joe out and learn as much about him as she could. They were evenly matched. While Joe ate a burger and Dixy devoured her pancakes, she explained that she needed a ride to a country roadhouse a few miles across the river in Arkansas. She was due on stage to dance at 9:00 and the strip joint would close at 10:00, shortly after that it would re-open for a private party.

"So you want me to drive you over the river and wait for you while you do your act, then haul your ass back here?" Joe asked.

"That's it," she said, "and I also want you to be my partner during the opening act of the private party."

There was a lot going through Joe's head, "private party" had the sound of something he should investigate, but it was going to happen over in Boo-Fuck, Arkansas. Memphis PD had no jurisdiction there. But this all may be tied to illegal activity in Memphis. While the concerns rushed through his mind he simply replied with the one thought that concerned him the most, "what the fuck do you mean by 'partner during your opening act?'"

She explained that the private party was a live sex show, after the opening act there would be girls available in private rooms for "special services." He didn't need an explanation to know that "special services" was another way of saying prostitution. While that would be illegal, it wasn't what Joe was in town to look for. He also realized that she had not really answered his question. "Let me repeat," he said, "what the fuck do you mean by 'partner in your opening act?'"

She explained that after she danced she planned to get him up on stage, sit him on a chair and proceed to suck and fuck him while her audience watched. "It gets them fired up and ready to pay for the opportunity to bury their dicks in a pussy," she added.

Joe thought to himself, it's not baseball but it is performance entertainment, she is probably the sexiest and most fuckable woman I've ever met, after being on stage with her I'll be trusted enough so if there any underage girls, drug activity or human trafficking going on I'll find out about it. "What if I can't get it up in front of an audience?" he asked.

"I'll take care of that," Dixy said with confidence.

On the drive Joe found a way to bring up something that got to the purpose of his assignment. He asked Dixy if there were any underage girls involved. She explained that two of the girls work for her, they are known as the China Dolls. They are older than her and she has been working with them for five years. Two others are dancers who have been on the circuit for years, she knew they were legal age. There might be one or two local area girls that she doesn't know, but she always checks their age.

The joint was called Country Crossing, it was located next to rail road tracks. The sign on the side of the building had been modified, the o was painted over so it said Cuntry Crossing. After Dixy headed to the dressing room Joe got back in his truck to explore the area and call in to his Memphis PD contact. He explained what he was doing and where he was at. His contact told him to be careful, the local sheriff's department in Arkansas was dirty, the sheriff himself might be among the guests at the party. He was reminded that prostitution wasn't their number one priority; drugs and trafficking were the focus.

Joe found a seat at the bar and ordered a beer just as Dixy came out for her 9:00 PM show. Her routine was similar to what he had seen earlier, this time her focus seemed to be two elderly gentlemen in the front roll. After her session one of them made his way over to the curtained off areas that served as private lap dance rooms. The other gentleman got in line behind him and a third admirer after him. Joe started to get nervous, Dixy might be occupied right up until the time she lead him on stage. He wasn't at all sure how he could handle what he was about to do. When the Cuntry Crossing started clearing out for an early closing to accommodate the private party, the bartender told Joe he could stay, obviously Dixy had made arrangements. The room was already filling up with new customers before the final lap dance customer left and Dixy rushed backstage to set up her next show.

The room filled up with a different type of clientele, the farm boys and retirees were gone, replaced by business men in suits, foursomes of golfers still in their polos, young geeks in hoodies, even an occasional woman along with a male partner. Joe counted 55 private party invitees in the room. The owner had collected $20 from each of them as they came in. When the curtain was raised the China Dolls were swaying slowly to techno music. They wore matching short cut silver sequenced jackets over what appeared to be full cut panties and sports bras in flesh tones. According to Dixy the China Dolls were as American as she was. They were cousins who were born and grew up in Cleveland where their parents operated a string of Chinese restaurants. They grew tired of working long hours in the family business for no wages and ran off together. They had been traveling the country doing private parties with Dixy for the last several years.

The music picked up and Dixy burst out to the middle of the stage, between and in front of the Dolls as the dancing picked up more energy. She was wearing the same outfit with a gold sequented jacket. Their routine was tightly choreographed; they danced in unison with surprisingly artistic and elegant ballet like moves. After they pulled off and tossed their jackets they began to demonstrate amazing flexibility. With legs spread wide and facing away from the audience they bent over and looked back between their legs at the audience, giving them a playful wave; all perfectly synchronized. From their home triangle formation, all three raised their right legs straight out to the side and up so that they were standing on one leg with the other legs straight up and touching the sides of their heads. Somehow they pivoted on their heels and slowly made a 360 degree turn, all the while holding their legs perfectly straight from floor to top of their heads.

Readers should give it a try. Don't bother with the vertical splits, you can't do it. Just take a shoe off, stand on that foot and raise the other foot off the floor. Now with a combination foot rocking, ankle flexing, and body twisting turn yourself around 360 degrees without lowering your other foot to the floor. No leaning against any kind of support allowed. It helps to be just over five feet tall and weigh less than 100 pounds.

Things started to get bawdy when they peeled off their sports bras, the whistles and catcalls got much louder when they shed their panties. When they finished a spin move, jumped and landed on the floor in full splits with naked pussies touching the floor the crowd erupted in appreciation. With Dixy doing the split and her pussy on the floor, the Dolls lifted her by her right foot until she was standing on her left foot with her right foot still touching her head. The Dolls kicked up their legs to get in the same position and they began another one foot heel pivot turn. This time the crowd got a view of their gaping and wet pussies at they turned together. With all the girls totally naked the show changed from elegant and artistic to all out burlesque.

Three chairs were pulled forward from the back of the stage and the girls began their synchronized chair gymnastics. Sitting back on the chairs with legs spread wide, Dixy touched toes with the girl on either side in a dick hardening triple pussy invitation. As they were leaning over the chairs with asses facing the audience all three girls pulled out realistic dildos from below her chair, gave them a good lick and began teasing their pussies with their toys. The dildos had rubber suction cups on the balls end, in unison they licked the suction cups and stuck them to the metal chairs. In another synchronized move they all sat down on the dildos in concert and began riding them hard. They reached under their chairs and pulled out wireless microphones so the audience could hear their conversation, and their pleasure moans.