I Married A Playboy Bunny, Going On 47 Years Now.

I got a summer job at a high end resort hotel, nights. At the front desk worked a beautiful girl. I was in a crush overnight. She was reserved and she didn't talk to night clerks. But persistence paid off and I invited her to an art fair held annually at the river front park. She accepted, an afternoon date.

She was quiet, but persistence and insistence got her talking. She had been a Playboy Bunny in Chicago before her accident. I hadn't noticed till she mentioned it. A scar on her forehead, a limp from a broken hip. She mentioned that the doctors told her she could never have children normally. Children meant scars. She always wore pants at work, never a skirt. Back at her apartment she lowered her pants and stood in front of me, a long deep scar up her thigh from her accident. Do you still want me? she asked.

Truthfully I couldn't deal with it. Nothing happened that night.

A few weeks later I apologized and she answered she understood, men didn't want a scarred up woman with a limp who couldn't have babies. Forget it, she told me, find a girl I wanted to fuck and see naked. I fucked her that weekend, she refused to fuck normal, it was all anal, she couldn't risk getting pregnant. She had really nice tits, necessary to be a Bunny, but her limp and the scar on her thigh killed the job for her. She fixed a BLT to feed me, since I'd spent all my energy.

She insisted on anal, until one night right before I was returning to college. She insisted that if she wasn't a virgin she would never get married. It was the last card in her hand, maybe an old man would take her. She was four years older than me but right then I told her I'd marry her, and we eloped at the County Clerks office with the JP.