In order for you to fully understand how I could get myself into such situations as you will be reading about, first I must tell you a little about myself. I'm 30 years old. I've been divorced once. I've since remarried and now have two beautiful children. I like to drink and when I drink, it's a lot. Some may consider me an alcoholic, which I don't deny. It doesn't matter if you consider me a drunk, an alcoholic or just a partying type of guy. It just matters that you know that when I drink I usually end up passed out somewhere like a bar stool, tree or nearest curb.
Now that you know what I like to do in my free time, I'll tell you about my wife and what I just discovered she likes to do in her free time. First a little about her, her name is Rayne, she's 5'10" and 130 lbs. Her natural hair color is dirty blonde and it hangs down to around the middle of her back. She has large C or small D sized breasts, with an athletic type figure. Check out the picture in my profile for a better idea of what she looks like.
As I said earlier, Rayne and I have two young kids. I consider us very lucky to have parents who are in competition to be the better grandparents. In others words, Rayne's mom and my mom are always trying to one up each other. This works out for us because we do not have to worry about buying high chairs and baby beds. We also have two baby sitters that will never say no because they do not want to look bad to the other grandmother. We have an arrangement with them, Friday is their day to keep the kids, they alternate Friday's and everyone is happy, especially Rayne and I because that means we get to go out every Friday night.
Friday night was now upon us so we headed out to our favorite bar, The Spanish Moon. The Moon, as we call it, is one of those old charming southern buildings complete with ghost stories. It's where the punk rockers hang out and pretty much the only place to hear good music in this hick town we live in.
We walked inside and immediately Rayne spotted some friends of hers and ran over to start talking to them. I glanced up at Rayne as she trotted up the stairs and thought how lucky I was to have a girl like her. She looked so hot that night. She was wearing her little denim skirt that was cut off well above her knees. If she bent over to play pool somebody was going to get a panty shot. She was also wearing a white "wife beater" that she had cut off above her belly button. She had on a pair of black flip flops, showing off her beautiful feet, my favorite part of her. She also had her hair dyed back to its natural color, with pink highlights. God she was gorgeous, my very own punk rock princess.
Since I go to the bar for one reason, drinking, I headed straight for the nearest bartender and ordered up a Guinness. As I chugged down Guinness number one, I began thinking about how my week had been. It was a very good week at work. My design team finished a huge project a full month ahead of schedule and got a nice size bonus as a reward.
After spotting a couple of my buddies and buying them a shot, I figured I should reward myself with a little present. So I headed upstairs to find Rayne and told her that we should celebrate tonight with a little weed. My wife loves to fuck when she's high, some of the best sex I've ever had came when the two of us were high. Of course she was all for the idea and we made plans to meet back upstairs at one o'clock, then we would leave and get a half ounce or so, get high and fuck for the rest of the night.
I headed back down stairs to the ATM to get a bit of cash so we could buy the dope later in the night. A few more of my buddies showed up and the party was on. I remember drinking Car Bombs and then nothing. My next recollection was waking up with Rayne's hand in my pocket. I pretended to remain passed out as I think she was feeling me up and I was quite enjoying it.
Then I heard my beautiful wife's voice, "Shit, the drunk bastard has spent all the money he got for the dope."
A deep male voice boomed in, "Well, I think you best better be giving me some fucking money or I'm gonna be pissed."
I had never heard this voice before, so I peeked around a little. I was lying in the back seat of my wife's car, I didn't quite know what was going on but there was a huge black guy standing at the window of the car demanding money.
I recognized some of the houses outside, and then it dawned on me, we were on Girod Street, more commonly know as G Street. Anyone that's ever smoked pot in Baton Rouge knows G Street is the place to get it. Black guys walk up and down the street. You pull up next to one of them and place your order. He runs off to a hidden paper bag, pulls out the appropriate amount, brings it back, you pay him and leaves. That's what Rayne was doing, only she couldn't find our money. I probably drank it all at the bar.
So, here we were on G Street in the middle of the hood. Cops were scared to come down here. We've got no money and a pissed off black guy standing at our window. I was pretending to be passed out in the back trying to come up with a solution to this problem. I was just about to get up when Rayne voiced a simple solution.
I heard my sweet, beautiful, innocent wife say, "I'll blow you. Would that make us even?"
