Bitch Too the Dog!

I knew the moment I rolled up the hill into my yard.

The front door was standing open, one of my big black beanbag chairs was sitting on the front dandelion patch.

Worse, my little black and white "Dog" was not sitting expectantly on the bottom step!

Now I loved that Dog more than anything in the world, including the 19 year old Redhead that had just cleaned me out.

Every night I would get out of the car, Zodie would run at me and then fly through the air into my arms. You had to look real close to tell which end was which, he had this black and white streaked fur that hung all the way to the ground in all directions.

More than once I went to hand his behind a doggie bisquit, since some stupid asshole had chopped off his tail as a puppy it was hard to tell the teeth end from the bunghole end.

I went into the house, yelling, "Patty!", knowing there would be no answer.

My guitar was there but the TV was gone, as was most of the dishes and furniture. Patty's side of the closet was empty.

I knew fucking better than to marry an 19 year old redhead, hell I was 29 and looking to settle, she just wanted to fuck and get fucked up. She rolled and smoked that damn dope from the time she got up until she went to bed, she had bright red eyes all the damn time. I bitched at her constantly about that, once I even tried some of the crap just to appease her.

Damn near coughed myself to death.

But fine in the sack, the kind of body only an 19 year old can have. It seemed like our entire time together, we did just two things. We were either fucking, or we fought. It got so I would just fuck her as much as I could, it helped to keep the peace.

You would need to see Patty to understand. She was a true redhead, her hair was long and every color possible was in there, all natural. She had upturned breasts, perfect size B, freckles everywhere. Her face was round, she wore gold-rimmed round wireframe glasses. Her shape was like Bridget Bardot, right down to the slight sway in her back and the flaring hips and perfect curved behind. Not beautiful in the standard of beauty, but instead she reeked of raw sex.

The other thing I still don't understand, one look at Patty and my dick got hard. The fact is so did every other guy that ever saw her. I had been with other women, rarely even managing two rolls in the hay in one day. With Patty I woke up with her on top of me, then again after breakfast before I would head off to work. Sometimes I made the 8 mile run home for lunch and we would do it again, come evening and I would make dinner, then we would be going at it on the beanbags. She had an almost childish fascination with cocks, by age 18 when we met she had already had way more than her fair share of them.

Other than an fetish for neat, she was worthless at anything domestic, though. She didn't cook, or do laundry, all she did was polish and square things up.

Besides, there was no fucking point in letting her make dinner, I tried that a couple of times. She came up with what looked like a hot dog pancake, with some of that boxed styrofoam macaroni and cheese shit that somehow became soup.

That was enough. I took over the cooking chores.

And NOW I was pissed, the fucking bitch took my fucking DOG! Visions of taking my pistol and shooting her and her full blown BITCH of a mother, hell, fuck I don't even want to describe that mouthy piece of shit. Pop her GODDAMMED doughboy brother who thought he was a tough goon just because he was big, too....

Fucking doughboy piece of Siberian sheep shit bastard! I had so far just barely managed to stop myself from just fucking him up.

HIS fucking fault, into everything all the fucking time, telling her I would never amount to shit, telling her to dump my "lazy" ass. Christ, I worked 6 damn days a week, so what if I didn't make big bucks. I did have over $35 grand in the bank, but the only reason I even HAD a nice bank account is my Uncle died and left it to me!

Pantpant.

Oh, yea, I was in a mood to kill someone, something!

I took a deep breath, put that out of my mind.

The bank account! Oh, no!

"Keep calm, see what the deal is." I thought to myself.

It was early enough, so I called the bank, already having a feeling.

"Your balance is $1.88", the lady told me.

Just FUCK!!!

$35,000.00 gone from my account! I thought to back when she asked me to put her name on the account so she could "pay some of the bills."

MOTHERFUCKING BITCH took my fucking DOG!

It didn't even register what putting her name on accounts could mean, if I remember correctly I had my cock stuck in her hairy red beaver to the hilt at the time.

Yes, IQ down 40 points, no fucking doubt about that at all.

Well, the hell with her, I decided. Deal with her ass later, visions of sawing her redheaded ass up into chunkc and dumping them in the fucking river in my head. I had a few hundred in my wallet, I even took the time to check, yep, still there.

"Wouldn't have been if she knew about it." I thought.

I jumped into the shower, dressed in some slacks and a sports shirt, throwing my work clothes on the floor in defiance. That always pissed Patty off and would start a fight, fuck her, I thought.

I dropped my dirty socks on the floor in the living room, too. I would have spit in one of her spiffy glass ashtrays that always sat perfectly aligned on her fucking wireframed round glass-topped end tables, too.

But she took the fucking things with her.

I jumped into my tricked out little 1966 Nova, headed off down the freeway at around 90 mph, still so mad I was yelling at myself in the mirror.

There was a Gogo bar I liked, Patty would throw a screaming tirade if she found out I went there so it had been a few weeks. Hell, when I DID got there, and ended up coming home 30 minutes late she would accuse me of hanging out there. I would yell right back, lying through my teeth. If it got too bad, I would just grab her and throw her down and fuck the hell out of her, that always shut her up.

Well, for awhile. Sometimes I think she liked being banged that way.

I was still mad as an old wet hen, no doubt.

I planned on getting good and drunk.

The usual bored dancers were up on the stage, wiggling around in their tiny little G-strings with those stupid looking pasties glued to their tits.

Sonya was behind the bar, I liked Sonya. Hell, we had even had quite a few rolls in the hay over the years, nothing serious. She was one of those rare women that just loved to suck on a guy's cock, and since I am completely happy with my tongue up a gal's snatch, we got along just fine.

"S'up Dan?" Sonya said, plopping a whiskey and soda down in front of me. She had the damndest way of saying things, some foreign accent I didn't recognize.

East Indian, I think. Never bothered to ask.

She wandered off as I muttered something about "The usual." and that was pretty much it. Sonya had this guy that she was seeing, pretentious cocksucker always plastered with Gold chains and great big rings. Fucker even had a big Diamond in his ear. I figured one day he would walk out of the bar and find a .357 up his nose but he was kinda big so so far he hadn't had any problems like that.

Of course Tommy Gianotti owned the club, word was you fuck with his place or his customers and you get a paragraph on page 15 of the newspaper about your body being found in the river.

I was on my 3rd whiskey when someone sat down beside me. I looked over, here sat this skinny, scrawny little thing, wearing a G-string and her damn pasties, with some kind of filmy coverup that hid nothing at all.

Didn't fucking matter, she had the body of a skinny boy. I glanced at her and looked away, trying to ignore her. Just what I needed, get hit on by some stupid dancer bitch.

"Hi!" she said.

"Hello." I didn't even look at her.

"Well, can't you smile?"

I hate that goddam "Smile" shit.

"Nothing to fucking smile about."

"Girlfriend left you, huh?"

Jesus Christ.

"Don't want to talk about it."

"So what DO you want to talk about?"

Jesus Christ!

"Nothing. She took my goddamed DOG!" It just came out.

"Your Dog? That's mean. What kind of a dog is it?"

My mouth opened to tell her to get the fuck away from me, instead I poured out way too much, damn near bawling like a baby.

She just sat and took it all in, let me yammer away like a stupid fucking kid.

Then Tommy yelled at her, "Leann!!" She had missed her set on stage. Tommy gave me a dirty look, he didn't like anybody hitting on his dancers. But I also knew Tommy well enough to know that the ones he took to the back all had tits the size of Texas.

Leann patted my leg, "Be right back," and hopped off the bar stool.

Hell, it hit me she wasn't even 5 feet tall.

I watched as she came out on stage, her movements flowing with the music. She spun on a steel pole they had set in the floor and the ceiling. Then with just one hand, her elbow braced against the pole, she swung in slow circles from the top to the floor.

She held her body out from the pole, her entire weight with just the one hand. I noticed that, reasonably sure I couldn't do that.

Her movements were magic, everybody in the place was leaning forward, their tongues hanging out. Now I knew why she was up on Tommy's stage, no tits be damned.

I looked closer, her upper body was small, but the muscles rippled, especially in her biceps and forearms. There were no breasts, at least not what I would call breasts. Just a small swelling with two pasties planted on the tips.

Not my type. Not my type at all.

Then I felt the glimmerings of an erection as she lifted one leg straight up over her head, the other planted flat-footed on the floor.

I mean completely straight up!

She lifted herself on tiptoe and slowly spun, holding the position. The tiny G-string she wore was no more than an inch wide and it didn't go all the way up her behind. She was in a spotlight, I could see the pinkish brown of her anus, just the string passing the center of it.

Tommy should have been yelling about that, she was showing much more than the law allowed. I looked over at him, he stood there grinning.

I got up and walked to the counter in front of the stage, interested now. Leann flashed me a dazzling smile. I looked closely at her face, her nose was a bit too long and a bit too thin, someone did her hair style while hating her. It was mousy brown with lighter colored streaks and cut just over the ears, straight around to the back in a circle.

Hell, even her ears stuck out just a bit too much.

There was no fat anywhere on her, I knew I could encircle her waist with my fingers, I could count every one of her ribs. Her hips did swell slightly, but not enough to look womanly by any stretch of the imagination.

Not my type. Not my type at all!

So what the fuck was I doing sitting in the front fucking row with a goddam full fucking blown hardon?

I reached in my pocket and pulled out what I knew would soon be a goddam scarce $5 bill, slid it onto the stage. She swept it up in a smooth motion, slipped it carelessly into her G-string, showing me a flash of shaven pussy lips in the process.

Then she did the obligatory lay down and spread this way and that in front of me. She did have total control somehow, her G-string slipped this way and that without her touching it. Within seconds I had seen pretty much everything, right down to her bare little clit, looking like a tiny pink pea sticking out of very full blown womanly lips.

Then she was up and prancing across the stage. The song ended, I got up and went all the way to the other end of the bar, as far away from the stage as I could get.

Sonya came by to plant another drink in front of me.

"That gotcha going, huh Dan?" She grinned at me.

"Naw, not my type."

"Yer pants says yer fibbing!" she laughed in the funny accent she had, then walked back down the bar to pour another drink for someone.

"Like the show?"

I realized Leann had walked down and was just hopping up on the stool beside me.

"Well, you got no secrets from me." I tried to be a wiseass.

"I usually don't do that much, it's just..Well, you looked..." Her voice trailed off. Christ, I swear her cheeks pinked a little.

I ignored that.

"I am off now, want to go get some coffee, maybe something to eat? I think you need to talk."

I turned to her to tell her to go the fuck away, I hate women.

"Sure. OK."

"Neat. I will be right back."

She came out of the dressing room a few minutes later, I simply would not have recognized her.

The odd hair was gone, her brown locks now nestled over her shoulders in waves. The heavier makeup for the lights was gone, leaving a trace if any. Her face was softer, the soft blouse she wore was unbuttoned enough to show her throat and a couple inches more, the matching skirt was the perfect length, an inch above her knees.

"Wow!" I blurted.

She beamed, did a little spin. Then she took my hand. Her entire hand fit in my palm, I am kinda a big guy at 6'1" and 200#. She could easily walk under my outstretched arm.

"Neat car!" she exclaimed, looking over my little Nova. I guess it was, Mag wheels and shiny black paint, oversize tires, jacked up in the back.

She settled into the wraparound bucket seat as I slid into mine, I touched the key to a healthy throb.

"Fast too, huh?"

"Yep." I teased the throttle, and slipped into traffic, heading for a little Cafe I knew that was open late.

We found a corner booth and ordered. I was amazed, no human being can eat like Leann did, no way could I put that down.

The entire time I was yammering away, trying to not sound like a damn fool.

The other odd thing was a simple glance at her slightly open blouse and I would get a vision of her up on that damned pole, then I would get an erection. She would ask me a question, the erection would go down, then damned if it didn't come right back.

I was going nuts, it seemed.

Finally the meal was done, neither of us wanted more coffee.

"Will you give me a ride home?" she asked.

"How about I take you home with me?", came out in response.

She smiled.

"I don't go with anyone this quickly."

"Oh, well, all right."

"I will go with you."

I made the 30 minute trip to my house in 20, Leann's hand on my leg the whole way. I am sure she would have been snuggled up tight to me except for the damned bucket seats.

Later that night I lay on my back, Leann on top of me, in control. The moonlight swept in the window, outlining her slender naked body, casting a shadow to one side of her while highlighting the other. I was rigid as I ever remember, my loins swollen to a size that seemed incredible to me. Her motions were slow, tantalizing, deliberate as she lifted her body and pressed down. I could feel every nerve ending in my cock, feel every bump and ridge of her insides as she continued the motion.

It was amazing, she was beautiful in that light. I glanced down, watching her as she lifted, her inner lips pulling outwards and grasping at my erection, then rolling, retreating inside as she slid back down my length.

I had lost count of orgasms, every time I would settle and soften, her hands and mouth would restore me. I looked at her nipples in the moonlight, extended, swollen, so firm I could hang my shirt on them. She began a purring deep in her throat, I had come to know this meant she was reaching her peak again. Then she arched back, and her stomach began to spasm in waves, I reached out with the palms of my hand to her abdomen, delighting in the contractions.

I realized the moonlight was fading now, the light of the new day's Sun was beginning to show.

We lay entwined, her body pressed against my side, and slept the sleep of the dead.

The Sun was high in the sky when I woke up, my first instinct was to reach for Patty, then I remembered.

I looked around my bedroom, no one there. Then I heard humming, I slid out of bed, tasting the ball of cotton that remained from the drinking of the night before. There was a pitcher of ice water and a glass on the nightstand, I poured a full glass and drank it down, refilled and did it again.

Then I pulled on my slacks and went into the other room. Leann was in the kitchen, busy moving pans around, a sizzling noise coming from the stove.

"Morning, Dan!" She flashed me a bright smile. She was wearing one of my white T-shirts, the thing was so big that it came to below her knees, the opening at the throat so large that it was a low cut top on her. When she leaned over the table, the top hung down so low I could see all the way to the slight swelling at the top of her hairless pubic mound. Damned if I didn't feel my cock twitch again at the sight, she knew and smiled again.

"Morning." I replied, my nose filling with the smells of bacon, eggs, waffles and fried potatos. My mouth instantly went wet, I was starving.

She sat a plate down, I looked at it. There was even some sliced oranges on the side, and a cup of steaming black coffee.

She fixed herself a plate, sat and ate quietly. I really couldn't talk much, my mouth was full.

I finally stuffed the last piece of perfect waffle with syrup and melted butter in my mouth, there was no room to put any more anyway. I sat back, sipping the coffee and smiled at her.

"How was it?" she smiled, already knowing.

"You should be a chef, not a dancer." I told her.

"I used to be a cook, my Mom and Dad ran a little cafe."

"So why did you decide to dance?"

"My sister talked me into it. I came home from Germany after my husband and I broke up. I just needed some fast money. All I had when I stepped off the plane was $20 and my suitcase."

"You're married?"

"Yes, maybe. No, not really. We are divorcing."

"Oh. The guy must be an idiot."

She smiled at that, then started to clean up. I pitched in and we made short work of the dishes. I looked at the kitchen counter, hell, she hadn't even made a mess.

My life took a huge change, I would drive Leann to work, sit there with a mix of pride and jealousy as she worked the crowd, picking up a few dollars here and there.

One day I walked into the club late, Leann was on stage doing her thing. Sonya came over, sat down my usual whiskey and soda.

"Yer gal gets better when you walk in the door." She grinned at me.

My gal?

"Better?"

"Ya, she jes wanders around up there 'til you get here."

I thought about that. Leann and I were living together part of the time, at least on weekends. I would take her home to her sister's place weekdays, thinking that I would go out and see what was going on in the world. Each weekend I would end up right back with Leann at the house.

A couple of times I had hauled some gal home midweek, there was a bit of thrusting and then I pretty much wanted them out of there. Once I had even ended up at Sonya's house because her lump of a boyfriend was off someplace. We spent all night into the morning hours with her sucking on me in delight as I lay there and ran the flat of my tongue over her. Sonya was one of those women that just tasted good, I could tease and lick her for hours. Then finally she would swap ends and we would fuck for just a few minutes. Without fail we always exploded together.

Sonya would have liked it if I picked her full time, I think. Not many men would spend hours nuzzling her crotch like I would, she told me.

Fuck buddies is the word I guess, not really more than that. Besides, if we ate breakfast it was get up and go someplace, Sonya had a stove and a refrigerator but I never did see the stove turned on, and all she kept in the fridge was beer and some wine. There was a loaf of bread in the back, an apparent science experiment.

My life settled into a series of meet someone, have sex, go back to Leann, spend the weekend, then start all over. It didn't help for mental clarity that I was either drunk or semidrunk most of the time.