About Betty
My new fiancée Betty and I were sitting on the couch, watching the Westminster Kennel Club dog show when she looked over at me and casually said, “My first orgasm came from a dog.”
As I sat there stunned, trying to control my reactions and collect myself, I had two immediate thoughts:
- Now I know why my dog likes her better.
- I wish this were the worst thing she’d ever told me.
Our relationship started as a blind date. My buddy was dating Betty’s twin sister and one day he asked if I wanted to go out and party with the three of them. It was obviously a setup and since my history with blind dates was less than stellar, I hesitated. The last one I’d been on ended up with me pushing a very cute and giggling girl in a shopping cart, hitting a speed-bump, and watching her catapult out to faceplant on the asphalt. Tears and blood flowed freely and I didn’t get a second date.
But hey, you only live once so I told him I was up for it. We arranged to meet at the Village Idiot, a bar in downtown Columbia, SC and from the moment I saw Betty, I was smitten.
She was just so much fun! If you’ve ever met someone who was the center of attention and the life of the party the moment they arrive, you’ll know what I mean. Betty was an unstoppable force of nature and I really had no idea what I was in for.
We’d spent the last few hours drinking shots of something blue and laughing our asses off. Things were going really well but I didn’t know how well until Betty looked up at me with a mischievous grin and said, “You wanna go back to your place and fuck?”
Even as wrecked as I was, it took me less than a second to answer.
“Hell yeah! Let’s go!”
As I followed her down the stairs and watched her tight gymnast’s ass, I thought I’d hit the lotto. Betty was bouncy and crazy, had a wide smile and was always happy. She was a fitness freak and her body showed it. Who wouldn’t want a girl like that? I knew I did.
Over the next few weeks we were inseparable, and by that I mean we spent the next few weeks in bed. I liked the fact that she was completely open about sex and was unashamed to admit it. Most of the other girls at my school played it by the book and waited the requisite 3 dates before having sex. The dates were always formal and the girls habitually ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. Three dates later when they finally dropped panties, they expected me to fawn over them like they were letting me into Narnia. Just once I wanted to scream, “EVERY WOMAN IN THE WORLD HAS ONE! THERE’S NOTHING SPECIAL ABOUT YOURS.”
I did not. But I wanted to. So you’ll understand why Betty was so refreshing. She enthusiastically and loudly enjoyed sex and had no problem telling me when she was horny. It was a nice change. Sex was pretty vanilla initially, until I found a giant box of dildos and porn under her bed. My idiot mutt had crawled under there and was scratching at the box so of course I had to look inside.
What struck me most was not that she had a vibrator, but that she had so many of them. Large, small, ribbed, veined, black, pink, she had them all, in shapes not found in nature. I could only guess at how much she spent in batteries every month. But even that wasn’t as crazy as her porn stash. Instead of magazines, she had paperbacks and by the wear and tear on them, they’d been read more than once.
I’ll be honest – the topics were … a bit extreme. Most were borderline S&M, but quite a few of them had to do with naughty schoolgirls and their teachers, naughty daughters and their dads, naughty nieces and their uncles, and judging by the explicit covers, all the young ladies had been disobedient and required spankings.
Hey, you don’t need to hit me over the head with a brick. I saw the recurring theme, so the next time we fooled around, I gave her a light smack on the ass. You’d think I hit the turbo button. She went nuts. It turned out she loved everything to do with her ass. Everything. The purpose of the smaller dildos became abundantly clear shortly thereafter.
At first this was fun, in the “OMG I am dating a freak!” but it got old pretty quick. Turned out, I didn’t want to shove something up her ass every time we fooled around. If I didn’t get a finger or a dildo or SOMETHING in there, she took forever to come. As a result, instead of it being something kinda dirty and fun, anything ass-related became a chore. There were no “special occasion” things that she’d do — everything was “on the menu”, all the time.
As our relationship developed I found out more and more about her. She worked at a vet’s office helping inseminate dogs. Her specific role was to extract the semen from the male. Yep, my girlfriend’s job was to jack off dogs. Ok, bit of a setback, but nothing a well-laid boyfriend can’t handle, right? We were partying like crazy and having a blast, so I could overlook an odd quirk here and there.
After a few months of being together, she really started to open up. She told me that her last boyfriend blindfolded her, tied her face down on the bed, and let his friends come in and do anything they wanted to her. She thought this was awesome and a huge turn-on.
In any relationship, you make sacrifices and allowances. It takes courage to just come out and tell your partner what turns you on, especially if it’s a bit offbeat, so I didn’t recoil in disgust or tell her she was crazy when she told me this. I just laughed and told her I was out of rope.
To be honest, it was disconcerting. I didn’t like thinking of my girlfriend as some anonymous girl face-down getting hammered by a string of high-fiving gym-rats, but I figured that maybe it was all in the past. She was with me now and I wasn’t into sharing.
Of course, I was dying to know what was going on in her head. Most of her fantasies involved submission and degradation and I wondered why. There had to be some psychological trigger in her little pea-brain and I started actively searching for it.
Although she still had her own apartment, Betty spent 90% of her time in my house and even had her own key. I came home one day and found her employing two dildos and a vibrator, riveted by the porn on the TV. Her claim that my house was “more private” and that’s why she was always there made more sense.
You might think I would have flipped out walking in on that but I didn’t and maybe it was because of Betty’s reaction. She wasn’t ashamed, didn’t stop, and after she’d finished, gave me a big grin and said, “Wow, I came really hard. Now it’s your turn.” How can you get mad at that?
My whole relationship with Betty was so unique. Not only had I never dated anyone like her, I’d never MET anyone like her. I mean seriously, how many girls do you know who love porn and are confident enough to admit it?
Most of my former girlfriends liked bubble baths, candles and romance novels. Not Betty. She wanted gang-bangs, beatings, multi-penetration and humiliation. We started talking about her porn collection and decided that since it was so out of date, we should update it. We went online and I told her to get anything that looked interesting. It turned out our definitions of “interesting” were light years apart.
When the giant box of CDs, books, and videos arrived, I realized just how much our tastes differed. My idea of scandalous was a naughty schoolgirl. Hers involved physical pain and actual damage. One favorite story of hers had some guy kidnapping a girl and torturing her in his dungeon. He ends up squirting boiling oil into this girl’s vagina and she dies from the pain. Betty loved it.
I still hadn’t found the trigger, the reason why this particular type of fantasy was such a turn-on to her and it was driving me crazy. I didn’t have anyone I could ask or talk to about it. Wikipedia was still more than a decade away. I would have to wait.
We’d been dating a few more months and I’d become somewhat used to her kinks. Hey, she was still fun, still crazy in bed and if she liked to think about getting raped and murdered when we had sex, who was I to judge? I guess the fact I accepted this about her made her feel more comfortable with me and she “mentioned” that when she was 14 she had become pregnant and had an abortion.
This was obviously something that was pretty secret and she watched me closely to see my reaction. You have to understand – we were in the Deep South, where “good girls” would never do such a thing. I told her that it must have been a very difficult decision and I could only imagine what it must have been like. I guess my answer was acceptable.
Betty and I had clearly reached a new stage in our relationship. I’d passed her test, so after telling me this, she said she wanted me to meet her family. I already knew her twin sister – she, her boyfriend, Betty, and I hung out constantly. But meeting her Mom and Dad was a big deal. I wasn’t too sure this was a good idea, mostly because Betty clearly had her issues, but there really wasn’t any way to avoid it and I figured I may as well. Might be fun, right?
I like people from the South but they have odd notions of what’s acceptable and what isn’t. I didn’t know her mother had 2 other kids from a previous marriage but this was a bit of a scandal. Even worse, Betty had an older sister who lived in the projects and had a half-black kid. This may seem like nothing to you and to me, but I realized why it was a big deal when I met her parents.
Her Dad was an Old-School southern gentleman from Mississippi and his racism, while understated was clear. So his step-daughter having a half-black child was huge. The fact that she lived in the projects was even a bigger deal, since the parents were pretty well-off. Well, at least I thought they were and it wasn’t until months later that I learned the truth.
Her brother, the other child from the first marriage, was borderline retarded. The first time I met him he was about 3 hours into a 2-tab acid trip. I never saw him when he wasn’t under the influence of something and his life was one long, unbroken string of failures. Nothing he did succeeded. Still hasn’t.
Racism aside, the dad was awesome. He laughed easily, made sure I always had a drink in my hand, had a string of hilarious stories and grilled one of the best steaks I’d ever eaten. Betty adored him. In college, he lived the life everyone wanted. He drove around town in a flashy red convertible, came from a wealthy family and was the object of every ambitious girl’s affection.
As the proverbial “good catch”, he had the his choice of any girl he wanted. The fact that he married a woman with 2 kids at a time when divorced women were often viewed with suspicion and contempt set off some alarm bells.
My buddy later speculated that the mother must have done something so wild and freaky that the dad just had to marry her to keep it coming. It made sense – like mother like daughter, right?
Actually, come to think of it, they shared quite a few similarities. Betty was a miniature version of her mom, but an inoffensive one. She liked to drink, but the mom was a sloppy, annoying, stumbling drunk, and I couldn’t stand her. I played the part however and everyone thought I was wonderful. Turns out if you just smile, laugh, and let people talk, they like you.
A few months later, Betty told me that her parents were almost bankrupt. This was a shock as we all thought her folks were loaded. Her Dad owned a business and they lived in a huge house. Their cars were brand new, the drunk Mom was covered in gold and jewels and her father had the kind of expansive attitude that gave the impression of immense wealth.
Turned out her father was accused of having an affair with one of his employees, a girl whose responsibilities included paying employee taxes. Well, she didn’t (so the story goes) and the IRS came after Betty’s parents. They owed hundreds of thousands in back taxes and had no way to pay. They were irretrievably and utterly screwed. Everyone hated the obviously incompetent and lying female employee. Her sordid story about the Dad buying her lingerie and them meeting at hotels during the daytime, backed by reams of credit card receipts and physical documentation was completely discounted.
About this time, Betty’s aunt died. Betty and her sister both inherited about 30k each. Betty ended up giving her parents all of it, in drips and drabs, over the course of about 6 months. They had no money coming in, so she basically supported them. The messed up part was that her parents were used to “living large”, and wouldn’t admit they were broke, so they kept spending Betty’s money until it was all gone. Then they lost the house.
The whole time I kept telling her that she was throwing it away, but she said her parents just needed to get a few things going and they’d be fine, that they would pay her back. They never did.
We had been together about a year, and one night after swilling most of a bottle of cheap scotch, I said we should get married someday. Even though it was nearly 2:00am, Betty immediately called her twin sister, her parents, and everyone else in the world to tell them that I had proposed!
Wait. What just happened? No one holds anyone to a drunken rambling pseudo-proposal, right? I mean, we were just talking, right? Not anymore… I was stuck. I only had a few options. I could back out and pretend it was all a joke, delay it indefinitely, or I could move forward. Remember, she was still loads of fun so I thought, why not? I was 27, how long did I really want to wait? She’s cool, she’s as crazy as anyone I’ve known, and she’s easy to be around, mostly because she does what she’s told.
Yep. She did EXACTLY what she was told. She wasn’t a slave, but she sure acted like one.
“Betty, go do XYZ.”
“Great! On my way!”
This was another aspect of her personality that really rocked my world at first, but got old fast. Everyone says they want a girl like that, but live with it long enough and you’ll realize, it sucks.
Betty: “I believe XXXXXXX!”
Me: “That makes no sense. Here’s why: YYYYYYYY.”
Betty: “You’re right! I believe YYYYYYYY!”
She would change her mind and enthusiastically support me no matter what. I used to test her by changing my mind on basic things just to see how far she’d go. I never reached her limits.
I weighed all this in my mind and figured, “Why not?” I’d never met anyone better, she was absolutely crazy about me, may as well marry her. I couldn’t afford a ring and had to wait for my Student Loan disbursement. Yep. I was so stupid that I spent my student loan on an engagement ring. I still cringe at that.
We went out to a nice restaurant and I formally proposed. Sure, the first one had been a drunken one, but I was determined to do a real one too. She squealed as if it were the first time, gave me a big kiss and the entire restaurant clapped. I have to admit I liked the attention and I actually felt pretty noble.
Now came the moment I was dreading. It was time for her to meet MY parents. Betty was sort of like an amoeba – stimulus, response. She would blurt out exactly what was on her mind and I just knew she’d say the wrong thing at the wrong time and the weekend would be a disaster. I wanted my parents to approve of her but they are just so buttoned down and reserved. They were pretty much the exact counter to her family. My Dad was a preacher and didn’t drink. My mom played the piano in the Church, my sister led the Choir and everyone was highly religious. I should have known things wouldn’t go well, but I had to hope, right?
Initially, everything went better than expected. Betty was bouncy and happy and while my family might have had some reservations, they saw I was serious and they did their best to make her feel comfortable. Since everyone knew how tight my finances were, my sister said Betty could wear her wedding dress. I’d let them know on the sly that Betty’s parents were in really difficult financial straits and any help they could give would be appreciated. This was nice in theory but horrible in practice.
My mom and sister took Betty into the back room so she could try it on and waited around to help her into it. Betty tried to say no, that she could do it alone, but they insisted. Well, she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Who cares?” you may ask. Well, as my family is hyper-conservative, so this freaked everyone out. What kind of girl doesn’t wear underwear? Is that the kind of girl we want our precious snowflake to marry?
With the exception of the embarrassment with the dress, the rest of the weekend went well and afterwards I called my parents and asked them what they thought. They told me they thought Betty was very nice and that they just wanted me to be happy. This is “Southern-speak” for RUN!!!!!!!!
It was about this time she told me about her first orgasm coming from a dog. As I mentioned earlier, we were sitting on the couch watching the Dog Show when she blurted it out. I didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, what the hell? But on the other hand, this was a woman I was supposed to marry. I’d met her parents. She had met mine. She had the ring. She had a dress. We had set a date.
So I asked for clarification. She said she was 13 or 14 and was sitting naked in her room when her dog came up to her sniffing around. He started licking, it felt good so she let him keep doing it, and then she came.
How do you respond to that? After my initial shock, I ran down my options for response and couldn’t think of a single one that fit.
- Did you return the favor?
- Wow, that must have been ruff!
- So that’s how you train the dog?
I decided to shrug and say, “Wow, crazy” and go back to the show but I tended to look at our dog a bit suspiciously after that.
So, to summarize: I was now formally and fully engaged to a submissive torture-porn fan who required anal stimulation to come, who had nearly-bankrupt parents, a ghetto sister, a retarded brother, and a twin sister who, by now, I totally wanted to fuck. Betty wouldn’t let me, by the way. Hey, I guess she did have a line she wouldn’t cross!
We had a break from school and decided to take a road trip. I really wanted to see my old Army buddy Dirk and find out what he and his wife thought of my new fiancée. What better way than to rent a convertible Mustang, drive up to NY and spend a week with them?
The thing about Dirk was he was an utter dog. Everything I learned about women he taught me and in the Army we were legendary. We were the crazy guys who showed up to the Battalion Christmas party in togas and every time a new class of girls arrived after graduation from BASIC Training, they were immediately met and warned about us.
Dirk and Karin married in the Army and the three of us had been close for nearly 10 years. I valued their opinions more than those of my family, to be honest. My family knew me until I was 18 and left home so their impression of me was the guy who went to Bible College, not the guy who partied harder, drank more, and had more women than everyone else. I needed to know what Dirk and Karin thought.
We got up to NY and they loved her. Both Dirk and Karin thought she was the best girl I’d ever dated and told me to stop worrying and just marry her, her canine-history notwithstanding. They rarely liked the girls I’d presented, probably because the ones I liked the best were kind of bitchy, so for me to show up with a happy-go-lucky ball of energy was completely unexpected.
Betty liked them as well, especially Dirk, but not in a way I’d anticipated. I had told her that Dirk and I had multiple threesomes with women when we were in the Army, so I guess her little brain made the obvious leap I’d completely missed. She must have thought that I’d brought her up there to fulfill her fantasies with a good friend, someone I trusted.
The three of us went out one night and Betty and I thought it would be fun to have sex in the back of the car with the top down while Dirk drove down a windy road. Hey, why not? Sounds like fun, right? I’d never done it before and how often does the chance come up?
After a bit, we pulled off to the side of the road and Betty said, “So, is Dirk going to join us?”
Cue the scratched record sound. All of a sudden, three things hit me.
- Betty thought this was all planned.
- I was going to have to let my best friend fuck my fiancée.
- After this trip, she wasn’t going to be my fiancée anymore.
I could have said no, I suppose. At that point, it just didn’t matter. There was this epiphany and I realized that I could never marry her. I wasn’t the guy who could tie up his girl and let other guys have their way. What she needed I couldn’t give her. I like to try everything and step through every door, but there comes a time when you just have to get off the train and that time had arrived.
We spent the rest of the week there, had a great time partying and drove back to South Carolina. I don’t like to make quick decisions in areas of import, but things went downhill pretty quickly after that. She sensed something was wrong and tried to get me to just go to a Justice of the Peace and get a quickie marriage instead of going through the whole wedding thing. I guess she was worried I would leave and figured she should lock things down while I was still committed. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. We started fighting about the wedding more and more and she finally laid down the ultimatum – if I didn’t want to go down and get married, I probably wasn’t serious about her. I said that as much as I cared about her, she was probably right and we should take a break and try to figure out what we both really wanted. This wasn’t the answer she was expecting so she tossed the ring on the table and left.
Sweet mother of God, I was free! Our friends were stunned as I hadn’t told them any of the things that were going on with us. They tried to convince me that she and I should get back together but that wasn’t gonna happen. Our time together was over. This isn’t to say we didn’t hook up now and again – hey, she really was a demon in the sack, but it was for fun, not as a precursor to marriage.
Every time we’d hook up, Betty would update me on her family’s situation. It turned out her drunk bimbo mom had divorced her Dad and moved on to greener pastures (i.e., someone with money). Her ghetto sister had shot and killed a guy who had tried to break into her apartment and although it was close for a while, the police eventually decided not to charge her.
The twin sister had broken up with my buddy and was dating some new guy named John I knew slightly through another buddy, Brian. Betty had dropped out of school and was working as a waitress. Although we were supposedly only hooking up for fun, I got the sense she was trying to keep the relationship going, maybe trying to get back together with me.
I knew there was zero chance of that happening and then it hit me… My friend Brian and John were also pretty good friends. Betty and her twin sister had dated best friends before, perhaps it was time for them to repeat the cycle. I called up Brian and asked him if he were interested in dating a really fun girl, John’s girlfriend’s twin sister. Why yes, yes he was.
Well, their blind date went extremely well and it wasn’t long before the two of them were “inseparable”. After that, my conscience was clear. Betty was happy, I was in the clear and I didn’t have to worry that she was sitting around sad because I’d been a dick and dumped her.
I took a job up in Washington D.C. and remember getting the call that Betty and Brian were getting married. I was absolutely crushed. I knew I had engineered our breakup and my reasons were excellent but somehow… I knew she was wrong for me, but I couldn’t help second guessing my decision. I wondered if maybe I should have done something differently, but finally came to the conclusion that you have to look forward, not back.
Life moves on and so did I. A few years later I met a great girl and proposed and this time alcohol wasn’t involved. We were married at a beautiful ceremony in Sedona, AZ but had our reception at my parents’ house in North Carolina. Betty and Brian drove up for the reception and they seemed happy, so I figured all’s well that ends well. It was years before I’d see her again although we talked every now and again.
She had a few kids, I had a few kids and it seemed like her life had calmed down. One day I got a message from her saying that her email was changing and that she and Brian were separating. I fired off an instant email asking why. I mean, from what I could tell they were perfect together. He liked to tell her what to do, she liked to do what she was told and they had two very affectionate dogs.
Have you ever noticed that people never give you the real reason first? They always dump a pile of crap on you and if you sift through it, you can sometimes find the truth.
In her email she said she wasn’t really fulfilled, that life wasn’t what she expected, that Brian was controlling and another page or so of justifications, but the last sentence was the real reason. “I also realized I liked women more than men.”
Ah HA! Now the truth comes out. I gave her a call and pointed out that had she mentioned this earlier, we could have had all sorts of fun. She said she hadn’t known herself and only recently realized it. Hey, whatever. Go, follow your dream. We only have one life and wasting it being someone you aren’t is a recipe for misery. I wished her well and hung up.
About a month later, the other shoe dropped. I heard through the grapevine that Betty’s twin was getting a divorce as well. Well, it made sense. What one twin did, the other had to do.
So now we have two divorced twins, one of whom is now dating a big fat woman. I’ve always wondered about that, by the way. If you’re going to go over to play for the other team, wouldn’t you upgrade? Just seems logical.
Fast forward another 6 months. I happened to be in the same state as Brian, so I dropped by to say “Hi”. He was broken. You ever meet someone who is one dropped plate away from eating a bullet? That was Brian. He was living this kind of desperate routine where absolutely his whole life was devoted to his kids.
His back yard rivals Neverland, with tree houses (yes, multiple), swings, etc. He wants his kids to have fun every time they are there. I remember him being really funny, now he’s just trying to get through the day without blowing his head off.
Anyway, he caught me up. Betty was no longer gay. I have to say, I didn’t see this one coming. When she told me she was gay, it actually made sense. She was addicted to the Indigo Girls, loved flannel, took me to a lesbian book club meeting and had gay friends, so it wasn’t too much of a stretch. For him to tell me that she wasn’t gay was just crazy. I was blown away. This was less than a year after Betty decided she had to leave her family because she liked girls better, and now she’s not gay? I asked him why, but of course, Brian was clueless. Their relationship was, at best, strained. And things were about to get even stranger.
He told me that the reason Betty’s twin divorced her husband was that she decided that she was also gay. It turned out she had left her husband, John, for the very same woman that Betty had left Brian for! It couldn’t be a coincidence! I never really believed the whole “twin bond” thing but with this information, how could I possibly deny it? Two twins left their husbands for Sally, a fat, ugly woman.
But that wasn’t the end of the treasure trove of gossip from Brian. The bimbo drunk mom was now a widow. If you recall, after she left Betty’s dad, she married an old boyfriend who had “made good”. A few years after they married, he died unexpectedly and she inherited everything. In just a few years she went from married and broke to single and broke, to married and rich, to single and rich.
Of course, not having whatever wiles Betty’s mother possessed, Betty’s father was still broke. Maybe karma kicked his cheating ass, but for whatever reason he was nearly destitute and his ex-wife gold-digger bimbo was loaded. In fact, part of her inheritance is a really nice house at the lake. Where Sally is now living.
Yep. The girl who both twins “dated” is now living in the twins’ mom’s lake house and the twins live in Sally’s house. Why? No clue. It makes no sense. By now I’d given up trying to understand them. Some things are best left unquestioned.
Last time I checked, Betty was straight and living with a new boyfriend, her twin is still living in Sally’s house, and both John and Brian are husks of the men they used to be.
So I guess I dodged a bullet, or as one clever guy pointed out, “Dude, you didn’t dodge a bullet. You’re fucking Neo.”
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This is the most entertaining and absurd thing I have ever read. Kudos to you for surviving and having a lot of sex.