Reality not as Good as Fantasy by Karl Butters

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My wife, Anna Claire, is a gorgeous Amazon goddess. Standing 6’0 and weighing 165 lbs., she has a model-worthy face, large, beautiful 38DD breasts, a flat waist, thick, curvy hips, and long, shapely legs. Complimenting her stunning physique is her long, golden blonde hair, well-tanned complexion, and a sensual southern accent. She has every physical quality a man should want in a woman. I should have been happy having normal, no frills sex with my wife, but even with her incredible body, I began getting bored. I mean, I love a juicy New York strip steak, but if I ate it all the time, I would get tired of it also. Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife today, just as much as I did 6 years ago when we married and I hope we stay married for a long, long time. Still, I found myself getting bored in the bedroom and, I’m sure, Anna Claire knew it.

One night, while lying in bed cuddling with my gorgeous wife, I asked her what was her favorite fantasy?

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I mean, do you have a fantasy that really gets you turned on? Like the other night, I told you about my fantasy about finding you in bed with your friend Lacey.”

”Oh yeah,” She said rolling her eyes, “How could I forget the Lacey story.” Then a moment later added. “Which isn’t going to happen.”

“I can always dream, can’t I.”

“I guess you can.” She said with a smile.

“My point is, I share my fantasies with you all the time and no matter how crazy or unrealistic they are, you still play along. But you never tell me any of your fantasies.”

“I know.”

“So tell me a fantasy of yours.”

We lay there quietly for a few moments as I gave Anna Claire time to think. A shy, sexy smile came across her face as she began thinking of something.

“So you do have a fantasy.” I said.

“Maybe.” She giggled.

“Tell me.” She hesitated. “Please, I want to hear it. I always tell you my fantasies.”

“Okay,” She said shyly, not realizing the events this story would lead to, “I thought it would be sexy if we were at a bar and a woman started hitting on you, because she didn’t know we were together or something. Then I tell her to back off, that you were my man, but she told me to make her. So we get into a fight and beat her up.” My wife is not a story teller but I knew it had potential.

“Tell me about this girl that’s trying to make the moves on me. Is she ugly or hot?”

“She looks pretty good. She has small tits though and I think that’s why she doesn’t back down. Women with small tits always have a chip on their shoulders.”

“What am I doing while the two of you are arguing? Am I not trying to separate the two of you?”

“No, you’re enjoying it. I mean, this girl is a lot smaller than me, so you’re not worried or nothing.”

“So what happens next? Do you throw the first punch?” I asked eagerly, as I was really starting to get turned on.

“No. I wasn’t going to stoop to this skanks level and get in a bar fight. She started it, but I was going to finish it. She slapped me in the face.”

“Where, right here?” I asked as I kissed her cheek.

“Yes,” she said seductively.

“Did she hurt your beautiful face?”

“It stung a little,” she said with a sexy pout, “But all it really did was make me mad.”

“So, what happened next?”

“I punched her. Not a with girly slap. I punched her with a closed fist and she went flying backwards into a group sitting at a table. They gave her a shove and she came back at me. This time I grabbed her by her shirt with one hand and wouldn’t let her go. Then with other hand I punched her in the stomach and face until she was crying.”

Anna Claire hesitated. She didn’t seem to be able to think of what to add next, so I pitched in.

“And then her shirt ripped and she was able to break free.”

“Yeah, so she was standing there with no shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra either so everyone could see her little tits.” Anna Claire added with sadistic glee.

“She was embarrassed but knew she had no choice but fight back or you might hurt her worse.”

“Yeah, so what did she do?” She asked breathlessly. I could tell Anna Claire was really get excited now. Her breathing was becoming more labored as her mighty breasts heaved in and out. She looked so sexy lying there in her bra and panties, her face flushed with arousal.

“She went wild and attacked you ripping the shirt you were wearing.” As I talked, I slipped her bra off, allowing her giant mammaries spill out. “It happened so fast, you couldn’t stop her.” I grabbed a handful of breast and caressed the soft, heavy flesh as I talked. “I bet you were concerned now?”

“Not really. She got lucky and caught me off guard. I thought she was ready to run for the door. She won’t surprise me again. Besides, her exposing my big, beautiful tits just made hers look even more pitiful.”

“Aren’t you afraid she will attack your tits? They do make a big target.” I twisted her nipples, just hard enough, to get a soft squeal.

“Oh, she tried, but I blocked her. Then, I said ‘You like my breasts so much, here, I’ll give you a close up look at them.’ I grabbed her face and pushed it between my breasts, smothering her and she couldn’t breathe or anything. She struggled and struggled, but couldn’t get away. Finally, I let her go, right before she passed out.” I let her continue, because she was on a roll now. As she talked, I caressed her magnificent body. “Then I drug her over to a chair and laid her over my knees. I pulled down the slutty shorts she was wearing and of course the tramp wasn’t wearing any underwear. And I began spanking her bare bottom. She begged me to stop but I wouldn’t, she was crying and kicking her feet like a little girl. I just laughed at her. I didn’t stop until my hand started hurting from beating her bony ass for so long. Then I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder and walked her around the bar and I let all the horny guys take turns spanking her ass, some of them grabbing her pussy. She begged me to make them stop, but I just looked at them and told them to do their worst. They spanked her some more, they took turns sticking their fingers in her pussy. Then I heard her really squeal, one of them had jammed his fingers in her asshole. After a while, I got tired of hearing her squealing and crying, so I took her over to the big garbage can and then I dumped in it. Then I said ‘Next time you’ll think twice about messing with another woman’s man.’ Then I walked over to you and kissed you and we went home and had wild passionate sex.” We kissed for a few moments. “Well… what do you think?”

“I liked it. I liked it a lot.” Actually her fantasy was better than any of my fantasies, mainly because she seemed to enjoy it so much. With my stories, she just seemed to patiently listen and then we would have sex. I felt selfish at times, because she didn’t seem to get much out of my stories. “I enjoyed hearing that story. Did you enjoy telling it?”

“You tell me.” She took my hand and placed it in the apex of her tanned thighs. It was warm and very moist. She was clearly ready for sex and I was about to explode myself. We made love multiple times that night.

Over the next few months, we retold this fantasy numerous times. Sometimes I would tell the story, sometimes Anna Claire would tell it. Eventually, I began to dream about making the fantasy a reality. I wasn’t sure how she would feel about an actual, real life fight.

“Have you ever been in a real fight before?” I asked her one day.

“Sort of. Me and some friends used to get in wrestling matches and stuff during sleepovers. I was always bigger and stronger and would usually win,” she boasted.

“How do you think you would do now, you know, in a real bar fight?”

“Well, I’m a lot bigger and stronger than most women and I’m pretty athletic too, I mean, I did play JV volleyball in high school. Plus, I took those Thai boxing classes at the gym. So I may not be quite ready for the UFC, but I’m pretty sure I could take on any of the half-drunk women we’d meet in a bar around here.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“You mean, me getting in a real bar fight?” She sounded hesitant, but not unwilling.

“Only if you want to.”

“Oh I want to, it’s just… should I? Fighting in public illegal? Wouldn’t I get arrested?”

“That’s why they have bouncers. It would be bad for business if a bar called the cops every time there was a fight.”

“True.” She had a thoughtful look on her face for a moment, but then began to smile. “Let’s do it.”

“Are you sure?”


For the next two weeks, our foreplay involved the planning of the fight. I wondered if the fight itself would turn out have as exciting and stimulating as the planning.

Finally, the night came that we had been so anxiously preparing for. The bar I selected was a moderately popular local hangout with mostly late 20s, early 30s professional types. We stayed away from rowdy biker type joints. I knew my wife could handle herself, but some of those biker chicks fight dirty and with weapons. I wanted this to be a nice, sexy catfight. Plus, while scouting out the bar, a regular had told me that he had seen a couple of fights here and the bouncers were always slow to break it up.

I arrived early and found a place at the bar. A few minutes later, Anna Claire arrived and, wow, she did look sexy. To create more realism and excitement, I had gone to a friend’s house after work and got ready for the night there, so I had not seen Anna Claire since that morning. She walked in wearing skintight jeans that left little to the imagination. The snug material struggled to contain her full, wiggling ass as she strutted across the room in her high heeled stilettos. I was disappointed at first that she wore a black leather jacket, partially covering up her perfect boobs, but when she turned and faced me, I could see enough of them to tell she was not wearing a bra. She had a low cut, white t-shirt on, that was stretched tight against her huge breasts. Most women with breasts her size, would require a bra for support, but Anna Claire’s naturally huge breasts remained relatively upright, even while braless.

She sat down in the corner, carefully choosing a seat that gave me a clear view. Men began gathering around her like flies, offering her drinks and trying cheesy pickup lines. Anna Claire flirted and giggled at their jokes, and occasionally accepted their drinks. I had never seen her look sexier.

Both of us, from our separate corners of the room, began surveying the scene, looking for a suitable real life participant in our fantasy. It had to be someone we both agreed on.

Anna Claire looked at me and then glanced at a redhead wearing a leopard print mini skirt. She looked like a hooker. I, subtly, shook my head no. She had long, sharp looking nails and wore several pointy rings on her hand. Even if Anna Claire beat the shit out of her, those nails and rings could still do damage to my wife’s gorgeous face and body.

I motioned towards a short, slightly chubby girl, but Anna Claire said no. The girl had a cute face and most of her extra weight was in her tits and ass. I knew why Anna Claire rejected her. She had told me once, during one of our pillow talks, that her breasts were highly intimidating to other women and, if she was ever in a real fight, she planned on using them to her advantage. Since the chubby girl’s tits were almost as big as Anna Claire’s, she knew she couldn’t intimidate the girl as easily.

My wife motioned to another girl, but I used my veto. Part of our fantasy is Anna Claire stripping the girl’s clothes off and having her way with her while she is nude. The girl Anna Claire motioned towards was not very attractive. She had small tits and her gut was bigger than her butt.

Eventually a woman walked in we could both agree. She was pretty, almost wholesome looking, especially when compared to the other females in the bar. The knee length dress she wore would have been appropriate for church. It was just tight enough to show everyone she had slender body, but not too tight to be considered provocative or even particularly sexy. Though attractive, she was a total opposite of Anna Claire. Her hair was dark brown, she had a pale, freckled complexion, and thin lips, matched to Anna Claire’s blonde hair, smooth, tanned complexion, and full, pouty lips. This girl had a slim body, small breasts, and showed hints of a decent ass and legs, but matched against Anna Claire’s enormous breasts, full hips and ass, and long, shapely legs, this new arrival looked like an adolescent. Plus, in her heels, Anna Claire was almost 6’3. This woman was only 5’4 or 5’5.

I pointed her out to my wife and a few seconds later my phone beeped with a text. It was from Anna Claire. U think she will fight? I responded- we’ll c. We both had agreed that the girl had to be willing. The fantasy was for Anna Claire to get in a fight with a girl; not assault an unwilling victim.

It was not difficult to get the girl’s attention. Most of the men in the place were hanging around Anna Claire. I was one of the few, available guys, that wasn’t half drunk or passed out. As soon as I made eye contact, she smiled and walked over to the bar.

“Is this seat taken?” She asked me.

“Not anymore. Can I buy you a drink?” I asked, as she sat down beside me.

“Sure. I’ll take a daiquiri. My name’s Andrea.”

As we began to talk, I kept glancing back at Anna Claire. Her face began to look slightly flushed from a mixture of excitement, arousal, and maybe a touch of jealousy. I could see she was enjoying the moment, as was I. She picked up her phone and sent me text.

She doesn’t look very tuff

I was afraid I would turn off Andrea by texting during our conversation, so I told her it was my work and she seemed understanding.

Compared to u no 1 here looks tuff

I cant wait to get my hands on her

Me neither

As Andrea and I continued our conversation, Anna Claire lost all interest in the guys swarming around her. Finally, she uncrossed her sexy legs and stood up. Ignoring the men around her, she strutted towards the bar. That’s when the fun began.

“Why don’t you buy me a drink, stud?” Anna Claire purred, as she situated herself between Andrea and I.

“Excuse me?” Andrea said, “We are trying to have a conversation here.”

“I’ll have a Long Island iced tea,” she said to the bartender, ignoring Andrea. Then she turned back to me. “I’ve never seen you here before. Do you live around here?”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re about to piss me off.”

“Bitch, you need to walk away, before your mouth writes a check your little skanky ass can’t cash.” Anna Claire said coolly. She was purposely keeping her calm, knowing that would make Andrea even angrier.

“Did you just call me a bitch?”

“I also called you a skank.”

“You… you… cow.” Andrea stammered furiously.

The cow comment stung. Even though Anna Claire knew she was gorgeous and that most men found her irresistibly sexy, like most women, she was sensitive about her weight.

“You want to fight, let’s fight!” Anna Claire hissed. Just when I thought our fantasy was going to become reality, Hugo, the giant bouncer stepped in.

“Back off her. She didn’t do anything to you.” Hugo said to Anna Claire. Hugo was a huge Samoan, and though he moved with the speed and agility of a sloth, his impressive size was intimidating. I wasn’t about to tell him to mind his own business.

“No, it’s ok Hugo,” Andrea said, “I’m not afraid of her.”

“Oh, you should be.” Anna Claire said, then took off her jacket showing off her giant boobs. She wore a white tank top that was low cut, showing off much of the top half of her breasts. Her nipples were as erect as my dick, and looked like they were about to poke through the stretched fabric. As she handed me her jacket, she leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I am going to whip her bony ass for you.” Then she kissed me on the lips. This infuriated Andrea, who, of course, did not know that we had ever even met before tonight.

Anna Claire stepped toward Andrea, thrusting her tits in the smaller girl’s face. I think she was trying to intimidate Andrea, but it didn’t seem to work.

“Get your fat tits out of my face.”

“Make me!”

About that time, the bartender, hard at work and oblivious to all the commotion going on, brought the Long Island iced tea Anna Claire had ordered. Andrea took it and slung it into Anna Claire’s face. My beautiful wife squealed as she was drenched by the drink. Her shirt was now soaked, further exposing her tits. Though Anna Claire looked humiliated, I thought she looked even hotter. The wet hair and tanned skin glistened with moisture, and her mighty breasts heaved in anger, giving her an erotic, sexy look. At this moment, I was both turned on and afraid for Andrea’s life.

“You Bitch!” Anna Claire screamed, as she swung her fist at Andrea. Soon, both girls were swinging wildly at each other. Everything began happening so fast, I couldn’t tell if any of Anna Claire’s blows landed, but Andrea connected with a solid punch to Anna Claire’s gut that staggered my pretty wife. Due to the height difference, Andrea wasn’t able to land any face shots but my wife’s body was wide open to attack. I suppose neither of the Thai boxing classes, Anna Claire took, ever focused on defensive strategies. Adding to my wife’s difficulties were her high heeled shoes. With hind sight being 20/20, I suppose the heels were a poor choice, for they severely restricted Anna Claire’s mobility, and left her teetering off balanced in the fight. The skinny brunette landed blow after blow to my wife’s tits and gut. After my wife’s right boob bounced violently upward from a particularly vicious upper cut, Anna Claire let out a loud cry. This wasn’t the way I had envisioned the fight in my fantasy and looking at Anna Claire’s bewildered expression, I could tell she was thinking the same thing.

Andrea drove Anna Claire back against the bar with an unrelenting flurry of punches. Confused and not knowing how to deal with such a brutal assault, my wife barely fought back. Panicking, she tried to run, but Andrea grabbed her by her long, blonde hair and slung her backwards. As her feet went flying out from under her, Anna Claire landed with a thud on her back. The problematic heels went soaring off during her airborne flight, but this was little comfort as Andrea jumped on top of her and mounted an assault on her pretty face. My wife’s cute nose and succulent lips were smashed repeatedly by Andrea’s fists.

The way Anna Claire frantically kicked her feet gave her the appearance of a little girl pitching a tantrum. My gorgeous wife looked so helpless and pitiful. I knew it was time to throw in the towel, so I moved to break it up. Before I could pull Andrea off my wife, Hugo, demonstrating surprising quickness, grabbed my arm and jerked me backwards.

“Don’t even think about it,” Hugo warned, “the big blonde started it and she deserves an ass whipping.” I decided that there was no reason for both Anna Claire and myself to get our ass kicked, so I backed down. I looked around to see if anyone else might step in but was disappointed. Apparently, Andrea was a regular, as they all seemed to know her name, and were rooting for her to continue the onslaught.

Andrea relented on the brutal facial assault and turned her attention to Anna Claire’s top. It became obvious that she intended to strip my wife. This really got the crowd excited and made Andrea even more popular. Anna Claire put up little defense, and her top was quickly ripped off, exposing her huge tits. Despite being bruised and battered, they still looked spectacular. Then my wife’s vicious foe went for her jeans. No longer being punched in the face, Anna Claire’s mind cleared enough to realize the humiliation that was about to happen. With great effort, Andrea was able to get the skintight jeans over Anna Claire’s thick ass before my wife fought back. Motivated by fear, Anna Claire pushed Andrea off and scrambled to her feat. I still held out hope that Anna Claire could win the fight. My wife, though, was scared and overwhelmed and all her confidence had been shattered.

With her jeans pulled down to her thighs, Anna Claire’s skimpy pinky G-string provided little concealment for her plump rounded ass. A half-drunk man beside her reached out and slapped her bare ass. I was thinking about defending my wife’s honor, by punching the man. Since he was already staggering from the booze, I was sure I could take him, but a glance from Hugo convinced me that it would be unfair to attack a man while he’s drunk. Seeing that there were no reprisals coming, the man reached out and grabbed a handful of my wife’s juicy butt cheek.

Hindered by the jeans around her thick, tanned thighs and the drunk groping her ass, my wife could neither fight back nor escape and Andrea was able to back her into a corner. With the frightened look on her face and blood dripping from her nose and busted lips, Anna Claire looked utterly defeated. Andrea, sensing my wife was finished, decided to play with her. She slapped my wife’s plump breasts, laughing as they jiggled and bounced. She grabbed handfuls of tit and tightly squeezed them. As the flesh squished within her cruel fingers, Andrea delighted in hearing Anna Claire whimper in pain. Then she twisted her nipples, which brought more squeals from the big blonde. My wife appeared helpless, leaving her tits vulnerable to Andrea’s sadistic assault. When Anna Claire pleaded for her to stop, Andrea let go of her tits, allowing them to bounce back into their place on my wife’s chest.

“So you want me to stop, huh, not so tough now are you?” Andrea taunted her. “I’ll tell you what, get on your hands and knees and beg me to stop and I might let you go.”

Anna Claire acted like she would submit, but then nailed Andrea with an uppercut. The unsuspecting brunette was caught off guard and spun around, falling to the floor. Instead of continuing her attack, Anna Claire ran past her. Her boobs jiggling excitedly as she made a mad dash for the door. She only took a few steps when her jeans, now fallen around her ankles, tripped her up. She fell, tits first, splatting onto the floor. As she lay there groaning, her sexy ass pointing upward, Andrea dove onto her back.

The brunette looked furious, as blood trickled from her nose. I knew she was going to make Anna Claire pay for fighting back. She grabbed hold of my wife’s thick, golden hair and yanked her head up, before slamming it down onto the floor. I felt so helpless as Andrea thumped Anna Claire’s head on the floor time after time. When Andrea released her hair, Anna Claire laid there, not moving. At first, I thought my wife was unconscious, but then I heard her let out a low whimper. Andrea slid off Anna Claire and moved behind her feet. She snatched her jeans and slipped them off Anna Claire’s ankles. Then she went for her G-string. Slowly and seductively, she slid them down Anna Claire’s shapely legs. Andrea had now transitioned from fighter to entertainer and she wanted to be sure the crowd enjoyed the show. She pulled my wife’s head up again, but this time, instead of slamming it down, she reached around and stuffed the underwear in Anna Claire’s mouth.

“Ok, people, let’s have some fun,” Andrea said, “Who wants a picture with the naked slut.” She held Anna Claire’s face up, as the bar’s patrons came by with their cell phones. One at a time, they took a selfie with my battered wife. When it came my turn to take a selfie, I couldn’t help but think how sexy she looked. Few women could receive the beating she had and still be the hottest chick in the bar. Her face was all bloody and puffy, and one eye was swollen shut, so her face didn’t look that great. But she still had a sexier, shapelier body than any other chick in the place.

Unfortunately, the selfie wasn’t the worst of the degradation. As the guys, and some of the women, waited their turn, they entertained themselves by playing with Anna Claire’s body. Her breasts were the feature attraction, and they massaged and caressed it. The women, though, were quite rough with Anna Claire. While the men simply enjoyed physical contact with my wife’s curvaceous body, the women seemed to get off on torturing her. The hooker dressed in the leopard print mini-skirt proved to be particularly sadistic. She shoved her hand between Anna Claire’s big ass and attacked my wife’s vulnerable pussy. Using her nails, she dug into the sensitive flesh of her vagina. When Anna Claire shrieked in pain, instead of stepping in and saying enough was enough, Hugo decided to get in the selfie line. Finally, my wife passed out from the hooker’s torture. Initially, the crowd got mad at the hooker for ending the fun, but Andrea motioned for them to calm down.

“Don’t worry,” Andrea said, “We’re not through with her yet.”

As my wife lay motionless on the floor, Andrea grabbed a beer off a nearby table and splashed it onto Anna Claire. The sexy blonde groaned and slowly opened her eyes. Before she was fully aware of what was happening, Andrea grabbed her hair and drug her to her knees. Using her long hair like a leash, Andrea forced my wife to crawl like an animal on all fours. Badly injured and woozy from her beating, Anna Claire couldn’t move very fast. The crowd gathered behind her, trying to get a view of my wife’s sexy ass as she crawled across the floor.

Much like a handler leading their dog at a dog show, Andrea paraded the humiliated blonde around the room. After making a complete lap around the room, the evil brunette sat in a chair.

“Lay across my lap.” Andrea ordered. My wife meekly complied. Anna Claire’s eyes were glazed over and she was so weak, just raising up to lay across Andrea’s legs appeared to be a struggle. “Now I’m going to do something that you probably didn’t get enough of growing up.” With that she began spanking Anna Claire. It seemed ironic, the center piece of my wife’s fantasy involved her doing the spanking, but in reality, the tables were turned. Soon the loud smacks on my wife’s ass were drowned out by her loud sobbing. Seeing a grown, 6”0-foot-tall, full figured woman, crying like a little girl, while being disciplined over another woman’s lap, is quite sexy; even if it was my wife being beat.

Andrea might be cruel, but I noticed she didn’t mind sharing. After her hand became sore, she let all of us take turns spanking Anna Claire. My wife begged and pleaded between sobs, but everyone was having too much fun to stop. The hooker, who might be even more sadistic than Andrea, spanked her numerous times. When she finally finished, she scraped her nails across Anna Claire’s soft butt cheeks, leaving a thin trail of blood. Eventually, everyone had their turn at my wife’s sexy ass. Andrea stood up, letting Anna Claire plop onto the floor. Then she grabbed the blonde’s hair and forced her to crawl on all fours again.

“Time to get rid of the trash.” She said, as she led her through the open door. With one hand still in her hair, Andrea shoved her other hand between Anna Claire’s thighs. Jamming her thumb into Anna Claire’s asshole and a couple of fingers into my wife’s pussy and she forced the helpless blonde up to her feet. She steered my wife towards the dumpster and pushed her upper body into the opening. Showing surprising strength for her size, she dumped my wife in a bag of garbage. My wife landed with a thud in the piles of trash, barely conscious. A bar worker happened to be standing in the alley with a bucket of mop water.

“Here, let me empty that for you.” Andrea said taking the bucket from him.

“You’d better not. That’s waters pretty nasty. I just cleaned the bathroom with it.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.” She said, as she splashed the putrid water on my wife. To my wife she said, “Bitch, don’t ever show your face in this bar again.”

Then she turned and saw me standing in the doorway. I knew I couldn’t leave my wife alone in the alley. I started to explain to Andrea how I should probably make sure the blonde gets home safely, but that I would definitely call her sometime. Ignoring me, she strolled right up to this guy in the crowd and gave him a kiss on the lips.

“That was even better than I had fantasized.” She said.

“I agree. That was sexy as hell.” He replied, as they walked off in each other’s arms.

I was stunned as I walked over to the dumpster. My beautiful wife was too hurt to get out on her own, so I had to help her. I never realized how heavy 165 lbs. can be, as I drug her out of the bin. Our car was on the other side of the building, so I let her drop to the pavement, in order to catch my breathe. As my wife lay spread eagle in the dirty alley, her damp body shimmering in the street light, the hooker came out, carrying Anna Claire’s underwear.

“Here’s something to remember us by.” She said as she crammed the panties deep inside my wife’s exposed pussy, then walked back in laughing. I could hear her tell everyone inside what she had done, as helped my wife to the car.

Helping her into the car I joked, “And you complain I never open the door for you anymore.” I chuckled, but Anna Claire didn’t seem to see the humor. She moaned, as I gently retrieved the panties from her vagina. It was the only piece of clothing she had left, so I slid them on her. I offered to go inside and get the rest of her clothes.

“No, don’t leave me,” she said, “I just want to go home and forget this night ever happened.”

As I drove us home, I kept glancing at my wife’s battered body and a lot of questions came to mind. The most important question was whether we would have sex that night. I knew things didn’t go as planned and Anna Claire was in a lot of pain, but I was unbelievably aroused and needed sex.


When we got home, I ran her bath and then helped her into the tub. As she lay in the warm water, I put an icepack on her swollen face and then washed her curvaceous, beer soaked body. Anna Claire let out these sexy, little whimpers when I massaged her swollen tits. I am one of those people that take pride in their work, and I carefully washed every inch of her sexy body. It took me a good 15 minutes to thoroughly clean every inch of her long, tanned legs.

By the time I got her into the bed, I was drunk with lust. As far as I was concerned, the whole night had been one long round of foreplay, so, with no further ado, I came at her with my raging dick.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed, while physically vetoing my romantic gesture. I just looked at her dumbfounded. “Tonight has been one big nightmare. I just want to go to sleep and forget it ever happened.”

“Are you kidding me? We fantasized about this night for months.”

“We fantasized about me beating up a girl at a bar, not me getting my ass kicked and totally humiliated.”

“Don’t over exaggerate. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Don’t lie. I may not remember much about the night, but I do remember almost puking after she hit me the stomach and I know I got knocked out at least once.”

It is true, she did get her ass totally kicked. But wait… did she say she did not remember much of the fight.

“What else do you remember?” I asked.

“Not much. Things got pretty hazy after she hit me a few times.”

“That’s too bad, cause you put up one hell of a fight.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said as she closed her eyes.

“I mean it. You did pretty good, for your first barroom brawl. I’ll be honest, she did rock you pretty good at first, but you were just too strong for her. She punched you and punched you, but you wouldn’t go down.” At this point, I couldn’t tell if she was listening or was asleep. “I think you were a little nervous at first, plus those damn high heels didn’t help. In fact, after you ditched the high heels, you started winning. You punched her in the face so hard, I thought you had knocked her out.” Her eyes peeped opened. “Unfortunately, you tripped and fell. Otherwise you probably would have won.”

“I… I was really winning?”

“Yeah, you really didn’t do that bad. You just had bad luck, that’s all.”

“But the last thing I remember was being dumped in a garbage can,” she said skeptically, “that sounds like more than bad luck.”

“Your right.” I conceded. “There was more to it than that. That bitch in the leopard print mini-skirt and a couple of others jumped in. You showed how tough you were, but even the toughest chick in the world can’t win 1 on 5.”

“If I got jumped, why didn’t you break it up?”

Good point.

“Well, uh, I tried but Hugo got in the way, so I told him to move before I bashed his face in. He acted all scared and yelled for backup. Then a couple of other bouncers came running in from the back and grabbed me.”

“Really, that’s awful.”

“Yeah, so I guess we both got jumped.” I conceded. “But at least you got to kick some ass before you got jumped.”

“True.” For the first time since we got home, Anna Claire actually smiled. Then she moved in close and pulled my arms around her. “Tell me again how I almost knocked her out.”

The End

Karl Butters Divider

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