4 old black men take advantage of wife’s gambling addiction
“Here we are,” said Fred, turning the moving van on to Washington Avenue.
Amber reached over to grab his arm. “I hope this is a good idea.”
“Everything will be fine,” replied her husband.
“This is all my fault. If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t need to do this.”
“Honey, it’s alright. Things will work themselves out.”
“Are they all black?”
“As far as I could tell. Quit worrying. It’s an older neighborhood. No gangs or drugs. I’ve checked it all out. The crime rate is low. It’s fine. We’ll get ourselves back on our feet and move out in a few years. There’s our new house.” As the van pulled up to the driveway, several older black people turned to watch them.
Fred and Amber Gertz were both 25 and had been married for three years. Fred was a pretty successful pharmaceutical rep for a large firm and quite successful. Amber had been a legal aid, but had recently gotten fired for gambling on the job. Amber had been introduced to gambling while the couple honeymooned in Las Vegas. She had quickly lost the original stake she had brought along for betting and had made three trips to the ATM as the week progressed. Fred had noticed it was getting difficult to pull Amber away from the slots even for passionate newlywed sex, but he had thought nothing of it at the time. As several years passed, Amber had increasingly played the lottery, bought hundreds in scratch off tickets, joined football and basketball pools at her job even though she knew nothing about sports. She ran up large amounts of credit card debt and Fred had finally taken notice when her car got repossessed. Their credit bad and burdened by a large debt, Fred decided to sell their home, move to a new state, and start from scratch.
Fred had located a decent home in an economically depressed black neighborhood. The area had been lower to upper middle class at one time and the prices were too low to pass up. He did have a two hour commute to his new office which meant he would be away from home twelve hours a day. Amber would start looking for work as soon as they moved into their new home. For now, Fred had put everything of value in his name and was giving Amber an allowance to get her gambling under control.
Fred got out of the van and saw two black men staring at him over a fence several houses away. Both men were older, gray haired, and one was rather fat. Fred waved. His hand froze in midair when he realized, they weren’t waving back, just staring. Fred lowered his hand and frowning, he turned to help his wife down out of the truck. They saw several more black men and women watching them as they moved in. Fred tried again to wave and be friendly, but the most he got was a nod from one.
Fred wiped some sweat off his brow. He started the tiller back up and finished plowing a section of his back yard for Amber to plant a garden. Two of his black neighbors were sitting on a porch drinking beer. They were watching him work, but still hadn’t acknowledged him. Fred had never given any thought to reverse racism, but now he knew what it felt like to be a black man moving into an all white neighborhood. Well screw them, he didn’t need friends anyway. He’d meet some at work. Amber didn’t care either. She was distrustful of blacks and would have been content to have them stay next door, but Fred wished they could have at least a casual relationship with the neighbors. Fred returned the tiller to the garage and entered his house.
“Holy shit!” Fred couldn’t help himself when he walked in on his wife changing.
“Like what you see?” Amber smiled at him as she pulled her bikini panties up to cover her bare crotch.
“You know I do, sexy.” Fred nodded towards the bed. “Wanna have some afternoon delight?” His drop dead gorgeous wife was pulling some cut off daisy dukes up over her ass. She was bare breasted, her firm double D’s, thrust out, nipples erect and pointing upwards. Put her in a barn wearing a cowboy hat and this could have been a perfect pinup poster.
Amber giggled and said, “Maybe later, after I get the tomatoes planted.” She bent to scoop up her bikini top.
“It’s a date,” said Fred adjusting himself. This was the reason he hadn’t divorced her after she’d gotten them in financial trouble. Amber was one sexy lady. Not to mention that she was kind and compassionate and he loved her very much. Fred wasn’t much to look at. He fit the Bill Gates image, a rather scrawny, computer nerd in glasses. Amber on the other hand, was built like a stripper. She had long golden brown hair that matched her name. Her eyes were green and so big they gave her an innocent look. Her lips were full and pouty. Her skin was very white and unblemished except for the occasional freckle. Fred didn’t know her measurements, but her figure was a perfect hourglass. Her waist was long and thin and her legs were fit from jogging. She was actually several inches taller then Fred’s 5’8″. Her breasts were simply magnificent. They were large and firm. They looked fake, but were 100% natural. Each breasts had a large areola, but the color was so faint as to nearly blend in with her skin except for the actual nipple which was often very erect and blood engorged making them much darker. They looked like half inch erasers capping off perfect breasts. Her breasts were so large, she complained of back trouble and often leaned forward when she walked. Amber considered getting reduction surgery, but Fred wouldn’t hear of it. Maybe when she got older and they started to sag some, but not now. She strapped the black bikini top on and winked at him as she left the room.
Fred went to take a shower. Afterwards, he was still nude when he walked over to the window to check on Amber. Their bedroom looked right down on the recently tilled ground. Amber was bent over, digging a hole for a tomato plant. Her moon-shaped ass was thrust up towards Fred and he could see the jean shorts hugging it tightly. Fred could also see that the two old black men had moved from the porch and were leaning over the fence watching Amber. Fred quickly got dressed.
“I tells ya, thems real.”
“They sho is ripe and juicy.”
“Ahem,” said Fred clearing his throat as he walked around the corner of the house and surprised the two black men. “How’s it going?”
“Oh, hello there neighbor,” said one of the black men.
“We was just talking about your wife’s tomatoes,” said the other, grinning and holding out his hand.
Fred took it and shook it. “You into horticulture?”
“I discovered whore-tee-culture in the Navy.”
“I see,” said Fred not really understanding how someone in the navy might develop an interest in gardening. “I’m Fred Gertz and that’s my wife Amber.”
“I’m Amos Smith.” Amos was the one into horticulture. He was a black man pushing seventy and still a physical giant of a man. He was big and muscular, though his muscles had tightened up as he aged. Amos had shaved his head making himself look younger, though he kept a gray goatee. This guy had forty-five years on Fred and there was no doubt in Fred’s mind that he wouldn’t last more then a few minutes in a ring with the guy.
“I’m Walker.” The second black man held out his hand and Fred took it. He assumed Walker was his last name. He was probably mid-sixties and had a huge beer gut. He was pretty obese, though his arms were still pretty muscular and one had a USMC tattoo on the bicep. Walker had a bald pate and close cropped gray hair around his head. He also had a gold tooth in the front.
Fred released Walker’s hand. “I was starting to think I wasn’t welcome here. You never returned my waves.”
“Sorry about that. I never saw you. I’m a little blind in one eye.”
Both his eyes looked fine to Fred, bright and alert even, but he felt relief to know that his neighbors weren’t anti-white or anything. “I understand.”
“I’d like to say hi to the missus,” said Amos.”
“I’ll call her over.” Fred turned to look at his wife. She was still kneeling in the dirt. She had noticed them, but had made no move to join them. “Amber, come on over and say hi to the neighbors.”
Amber tried to stare down Fred before reluctantly getting up. Fred realized what was bothering her, but it was too late. Amber wasn’t fond of showing off her body to strangers even at the beach. She was a borderline nudist around her husband, but with anyone else and she was shy. Here she was now dressed like a slut farm girl and about to introduce herself to two old black men. The two black men never took their eyes off her as she approached. Fred felt a little proud to have the neighbors so envious of the beauty he had married. “I’m Amber.” She shook their hands then immediately held her arm across her chest. Her nipples were typically erect and pushing out her top.
“And you are?”
“Delighted to have such a young beautiful woman in this neighborhood.”
“That’s a long name,” said Amber blushing.
“Call me Amos then.”
The foursome was interrupted by someone calling out Walker’s name. “We’re back here,” replied Walker.
Two more black men walked around the corner of Walker’s house. “Well what is it we had to rush over to see?” yelled one.
“Yep, where’s the fire?” said the other. He froze when he saw Amber.
“Ah, just something I wanted to show you guys in the house,” said Walker. “Come meet Fred and Amber, the new neighbors. These hooligans live further down the street.”
“Howdy, Frank Beane.” Frank shook both Fred and Amber’s hands. Frank was skinny and probably pushing eighty, but seemed full of life. He was a tall, lanky man. He had a full head of gray hair. His limbs seemed elongated. He had big long hands and long arms as well as legs.
“Dick Long,” said the fourth black man. He didn’t extend his hands to shake them.
“His momma and daddy named him that cause it’s true,” laughed Frank.”
Dick Long gave Frank a fake grin revealing several missing teeth. He was probably the youngest of the four black men, but still in his fifties. Like Amos, he was big and muscular too. He had African features, very dark skin and a flat nose. His eyes were deep set, giving him an unfriendly look. He barely nodded at Fred and just seemed satisfied to stare at Amber. His emotionless stare made her uncomfortable and she shuffled behind her husband to block Dick’s view.
“Your tomatoes are planted too close little lady,” said Walker. “You should space them at least a foot apart.”
“Thanks for the advice. I’m going to go fix them now. Nice meeting you fellows.” Amber turned to walk away and Fred was aware of four black heads cocking to watch her go. Some of Amber’s ass was poking out from under the tiny shorts until she reached back and adjusted them.
“Hey, Franksandbeans,” said Walker. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Frank grinned. “Fred here makes five.”
“You play poker white boy?” asked Amos.
“Some.” Fred didn’t appreciate being called a white boy.
“Our buddy Lou died sixth months ago and we were looking for a fifth player. “Stakes ain’t too bad. We each put in about fifty dollars and usually play winner take all unless the game runs late. Games are Friday nights, starts about eight.
“See ya in six days then. We switch houses usually. This week will be in my basement. New guy buys the beer.”
Fred showed up at Walker’s house promptly at eight the following Friday carrying two cases of Miller light under his arms. Walker let him in and led him down to the basement. Amos, Frank, and Dick were already sitting at a card table playing blackjack. They all greeted him pretty warmly except for Dick who didn’t acknowledge him at all. Fred set the miller light on a counter and Walker began loading it into a mini cooler.
“I’d better go easy on this,” said Amos taking a beer. “I’m not used to the good stuff.”
Fred frowned, thinking he was being teased for not buying better beer, but then he noticed the room was filled with empty cans of very cheap beer and he realized Amos was being serious.
“Lets play,” grunted Dick, speaking for the first time.
The five sat around the poker table and Amos dealt first. “That sure is a fine piece of ass ya married, Fred.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Yeah man, you married up,” grinned Fred.
Fred knew he had married above his looks, but didn’t like being reminded of it. “I’m a lucky man.”
“If she were my wife I wouldn’t be over here playing poker with four old farts like us,” said Walker.
“White boys don’t know how to treat a woman,” grunted Dick glowering at Fred. Dick’s deep set eyes made Fred uncomfortable.
“I do just fine, thanks,” replied Fred. “How about you guys, are you married?”
Walker sighed. “Widowed.”
“Married fifty years,” said Frank proudly, “with five children and eighteen grand kids.”
“Divorced,” said Amos.
“Divorced,” grunted Dick.
“Long Dick left out divorced, divorced, and divorced,” Frank quipped.
“Fuck you, Franksandbeans. Deal the cards,” said Dick.
“Sorry to hear that,” said Fred to Walker who looked sad since mentioning he was widowed. “How long has your wife been gone?”
“three years as of last week. I miss her every day. I miss her smile. I miss her laugh. I miss her cooking.”
“You miss her blow jobs.” Dick got up to get another beer. “So do I.”
Walker gave Dick the finger. “I’m gonna go drain the monster.” He glowered at Dick.
Frank leaned over and whispered to Fred, “Dick made Walker’s wife suck his dick once over a poker bet. He never let Walker forget it.”
“Serves him right for bragging about her so much,” said Dick overhearing the conversation. “She may have been good sucking Walker’s little ten inch dick, but she gagged sucking on a really big one. Swallowed every bit of my cum though. Came back for more a couple times too.”
“Here he comes. Shut up about his wife.” Amos punched Dick in the arm.
“What about you, white boy?” Dick asked. “I bet your wife sucks a mean dick. Those big lips were built for sucking cock.”
Fred was starting to feel sorry he agreed to play with these guys. “We don’t do that,” said Fred shifting in his seat. He regretted it almost immediately and wished he had told the big black guy that it was none of his business.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means, she doesn’t like to do that.”
“So? You push her to the ground and you shove your cock down her throat. Then you move her head up and down your cock. I ain’t never heard such nonsense. Women do what you fucking tell them to do. She don’t like to do that. What the fuck?”
“Black women know how to treat cock,” added Amos.
“Don’t you want her to suck your dick?” Dick was not done ribbing Fred yet.
“Sure, I guess.”
“Look white boy. You leave here tonight. You walk on home, wake your wife up, and shove your dick down her throat. It don’t matter whether she wants to, likes to, or what-the-fuck-ever.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Maybe that’s why you’ve been divorced four times.” The room went so silent you could hear a pin drop and Fred instantly regretted it. It had been perhaps the bravest thing he had ever said. He felt instant relief when Dick chuckled.
“You’re alright white boy.” Dick got up and grabbed another beer and gave one to Fred. “For the record, no woman has ever divorced me because of sex. They divorced me because I’m a mean drunk sonofabitch and I can’t keep my big black cock in my pants.”
“Ya got that right,” added Walker.
“Yep,” said Frank.
Dick sat and took the cards to deal. “In fact, I could call up any of my ex’s and fuck them tonight if I wanted and two of them remarried. Tell ya what white boy. I’m gonna get your dick sucked for you.”
Fred said the second bravest thing in his life. “I’m starting to wonder about this fascination you have with my dick, Dick.”
The room broke out into laughter. Frank guffawed and slapped Fred on the back. The only one who didn’t laugh was Dick, but he grinned. He wasn’t as scary looking when he grinned. “I was serious, but if you don’t want your wife to suck your dick that’s fine with me. Just trying to do you a fucking favor. If you don’t want to know my plan, fuck you.”
The laughter had settled. “Just kidding,” said Fred, “but I’m curious, what’s your plan?”
“We get her to play poker with us. We can feed her some good hands and you can force her out of the game unless she bets a blow job for when you get home.”
“Can’t do that,” replied Fred.
“Why not?” prompted Dick.
“Amber has a… She can’t… What I’m trying to say is that she got us into trouble… She can’t handle gambling.”
“You don’t say,” said Dick.
“Leave him alone, Dick,” said Walker. “This is clearly something he doesn’t want to discuss.”
“It’s ok. It feels good to get off my chest.” Fred explained how Amber had gotten hooked in Vegas and how their troubles had progressed from there.
“Nothing to be ashamed of Fred,” said Amos. “We all have our problems and weaknesses.”
Frank took the cards for the deal. “Enough talk, ladies. Lets play some serious poker.”
The rest of the night went a lot friendlier and Fred went home with twenty extra dollars in his pocket. He stripped in his room watching the gentle rise and fall of the sheets as Amber slept. She would be naked under the covers and his dick started to rise. He imagined walking over to her and pulling the covers off. He’d shove his dick down her throat as she woke up in surprise. Yeah, that would work in a perfect world. He looked down at his penis, hard, and straining to make five inches. Dick had called Walker’s penis little at ten inches and claimed his was thirteen. Those old black men were probably full of crap. Amber wouldn’t go for the forced blow job thing, but she never turned down sex. He climbed in bed behind her and nudged her ass with his stiff penis until she awoke and parted her legs for him.
Fred and Amber were just about to sit down together and watch a movie when the doorbell rang. Fred answered the door and was surprised to see the four black men there. Amos was carrying a case of Old Milwaukee. “You trying to ditch the game, white boy?” said Dick.
Fred was silent. He hadn’t had a good time during last weeks game and had spent the week avoiding his neighbors so as not to get invited to another game. “Sorry fellas, money is a little tight this week.”
“Then we’ll spot ya,” said Walker stepping up to the door.
“Come on in,” sighed Fred stepping aside.
“Fred, what’s going on?” asked Amber standing up from off the couch. She looked dumbfounded to see the old black men shuffle into her living room. Amber was wearing just panties and a tee shirt. She grasped the hem and pulled the shirt down to cover her panties. This had the effect of making the tee shirt tighten around her large bosom and showing off her nipples.
“Sorry, honey. The guys here want to play some poker.”
“Oh. Alright then. I guess we’ll just have to postpone our alone time.” Amber checked out the black men to see if she had made any of them feel guilty enough to leave them alone, but they just stared at her chest. “I’ll run upstairs and change.”
“Don’t feel you have to change on our account little lady,” said Walker.
Amber snorted. “I’ll be right back.” She released the tee shirt’s hem when she reached the stairs. Four black heads turned to watch her climb the stairs. As her firm calves tensed with each step, the tee shirt rode up her back giving each man a view of Amber’s tight ass gripped by lacy black panties.
#black #men #advantage #wifes #gambling #addiction