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My wife is a fantasy fuck, and she knows it. Drooling drunks will tell her their fantasy. She’ll find a way to make their fantasy come true, or do what she can do, and I have to find a way to deal with it. She doesn’t force dealing with it on me; in fact, she feels bad that I must, but is thrilled that I do.
She will not look a gift dealer in the mouth, nor will she make dealing any more difficult than she is sure it must be. She tries to be sensitive, but her calling comes first; her career (exotic erotic dancing) comes second; her marriage comes third.
She does see giving men sexual adventures a calling. She has a God-given gift, a God-given body to give that gift, and the sex drive to make demanding gift giving easy. She was not built to be a traditional wife in a traditional marital role. Fidelity and faithfulness were fine, but not for her. She never promised that she could be or would be, or even attempt to be. She, in fact, promised she wouldn’t be, not even on the honeymoon if someone in need made his need known to her.