The Payoff

"It was supposed to be a sure thing," complained Susie's husband, Paul. His voice still echoed in her head. "I had specific information. It was easy money." Of course it wasn't easy money. Gilded Ribbon faded down the stretch, just like Paul's dreams of cashing in on a five thousand dollar bet. Five thousand dollars they didn't have.

"Where'd you get the money for that kind of a bet?" Susie asked. She knew that Paul placed an occasional wager. Usually on football games in the fall but betting on horse racing? That seemed so seedy and Susie feared that maybe her husband's gambling had turned into a real problem.

"You don't have to have the money upfront when you use a bookie," Paul answered irritably. "He carries you for awhile."

"What?" Susie asked. Her biggest fears were being confirmed. "Since when do you have a bookie?"

"A few months." Paul said dejectedly.

"A few months?"

"Yeah. A few months." Paul had given up any pretense of being defiant and now just stared at the top of his shoes.

"You owe more than five thousand, don't you?" Susie said.

"Yes," Paul responded. His was voice barely above a whisper.

"How much?"

For a moment, Paul fidgeted with his upper lip, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger before answering. " Seventy-five hundred," Paul finally answered.

"Seventy-five hundred?" Susie gasped. She felt as if she had just taken a blow to the stomach. "How are you going to come up with seventy-five hundred?"

"Well, I could sell my car." Paul said.

"Ok. There's a thousand. Maybe." Susie's mind was reeling as she began mentally calculating the value of any and every possession of value that they owned which cold be quickly turned into cash. In the best case scenario, she could come up with about four thousand dollars. "How much timed do you have to pay off the bet?"

"He said he'd give me a week. Until next Friday." Paul said.

"Then what?" Susie asked.

"You don't want to know." Paul answered.

"What do you mean, I 'don't want to know'? Paul, it's about time I do know. What's the worse that could happen?"

Paul bit on his lip hesitantly. For the first time, Susie noticed the dark circles under his eyes and how pale his face had become. "Seventy-five hundred is a lot of money," Paul said. "In this guy's business they gotta collect someway. Otherwise they aren't in business for very long."

"What do you mean, 'they gotta collect someway'?"

Paul took a deep breath before answering. "I mean that I think they'll kill me."

"Oh God, Paul." Susie felt weak at the knees and lowered herself to the ground before she collapsed. "There's gotta be some other way. Who is this bookie?"

"His name is Jerome St. Croix. He's Jamaican. You met him once," Paul said. "Remember the black guy at the Dillaird's reception in March? Susie did remember. With his dark, curly hair, and athletic build, Jerome St. Croix had been quite the topic of speculative conversation in the women's powder room that evening.

"Yes, I do remember him." Susie said. He didn't seem like a monster to me then. Maybe he could be reasonable and we could work out a deal with him. You know, pay it off over a year or maybe even six months…"

"No," Paul said shaking his head. "You don't understand. The guy's a bookie. He's not selling furniture. It's a hard business.

"There's got to be something that can be done, Paul. Think. What are our alternatives?"

"Well, Paul began to speak and then stopped.

"What?"

Paul rubbed his forehead, before speaking. "He did say that you cold help pay off the bet." Paul said while keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Of course, I'll help pay off the bet," Susie said.

"Susie, you don't understand. I think he meant that you would be the payoff for the bet."

Even though Susie was angry with him, she allowed Paul to arrange a meeting between herself and St. Croix for the purposes of discussing how to settle the debt. It was still Susie's intention to find a more rational solution. Now as she sat in her car at the gated entrance off Jerome St. Croix's mountain estate, Susie's resolve began to wilt. It was all she could do not to turn the car around right there and flee. After taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves, Susie leaned out of the window and punched the intercom button on the keypad. "Yes?" A voice crackled in reply a moment later.

"I'm here to see Mr. St. Croix. I should have an appointment?" Susie said while looking into the camera mounted just to the side of the punch pad. Susie heard a series of clicks and then slowly the iron gate began to swing inward. As she approached the house, Susie was amazed at the array of exotic vehicles parked out front; cars so expensive she didn't even recognize their names. The gambling business must be very lucrative, She thought.

At the door, Susie was greeted by the largest black man she had ever seen. "Welcome, Miss." The man smiled broadly as he opened the door. His deep baritone voice was tinged by the sing-song accent of the Caribbean. "Mr. St. Croix is just finishing up a training session with the dogs. My name is Adam, I am Mr. St. Croix's butler, cook, body guard, and probably anything else you can think of," the big man said with a warm laugh. "He asked that you be made comfortable and he will be with you shortly. Adam led Susie into a grand living room, one wall of which was completely glass as it offered a breathtaking view of the entire valley below St. Croix's property. "May I get you something to drink, Miss?" A glass of wine, perhaps?"

"Uhm," Susie wavered. She knew that she needed to keep her wits about her, but a glass of wine may ease her tension. "Yes, a glass of wine would be wonderful," she said finally. The room was definitely decorated by a man; simple yet tasteful. The dominant color scheme of the room from the thick pile carpeting to the walls and even the expensive leather furniture was white. Susie walked to the wall of glass. The sun was beginning to dip behind the trees.

"It's quite impressive isn't it?" A voice said from behind her. Susie turned to see Jerome St. Croix leaning up against a white pillar. He wore a fleece jogging suit. His long hair was tied into a pony tail and a sheen of sweat glimmered on his forehead. "Please forgive my appearance," he said. "As Adam told you, I just finished a training session with my Labradors. It can be quite strenuous." St. Croix, with his broad shoulders and athletic build, was even more impressive than she remembered and Susie found his polite nature so incongruous with the monster who intended to have her husband killed for not paying off a gambling debt. Adam reappeared with a silver serving tray and two glasses of white wine. "Adam, would you bring a bottle please," requested St. Croix.

"Yes, Sir." Adam responded with the slightest of bows before quietly disappearing down the hall.

"Don't let his size fool you, Mrs. Lewis." St. Croix said. "I think the term 'gentle giant' was made with men like Adam in mind."

"He seems very nice," Susie agreed.

"Would you like to sit down?" St. Croix gestured to the couch. Susie sat down while St. Croix sank into the nearest overstuffed chair.

"I know that this situation must be difficult for you." St. Croix began after taking a sip of his wine.

"Yes, it is." Susie said. "Now, Mr. St. Croix, you seem like a very reasonable man. My husband made a mistake and we are willing to make arrangements to pay for that mistake. Now I was thinking that if you would allow us six months to …" Susie began to explain the words she had rehearsed in the car all the way here, but was interrupted by St. Croix.

"Mrs. Lewis, first, please call me Jerome, and may I call you Susie?" He asked. Susie nodded her head. "Good. I know that your husband explained the nature of my business. The world of gambling is an ugly one, Susie. Filled with ugly people who do not think in reasonable terms. Reason is often interpreted as weakness and in my world the weak don't survive. To be honest with you, Susie, I am a very successful man. I am successful because I always get what I want and in this case what I want is you. Since I first saw you, months ago, I have put this plan in place to have you.

Susie was stunned by this revelation. "You mean to tell me, you cheated my husband so that he would be forced to allow you to have sex with me?"

"No. Your husband is not a very smart gambler. I simply allowed him to maker larger bets than he was able to cover. That is all. The outcomes of all the bets were straight up and honest."

"You sonofabitch!" Susie raised her hand to slap St. Croix across the cheek, but he caught her by the wrist in mid swing.

"You just said you thought I am a reasonable man, and I believe I am," St. Croix said while still holding Susie by the wrist. "By the same token, I'd like to believe that you are a reasonable woman. These are the terms of my deal. You stay here and work for me, doing all and everything that I ask of you for the weekend, and I will consider your husband's debt paid off." St. Croix opened his hand, releasing Susie's wrist.

"And if I refuse?"

St. Croix shrugged. "He will have one week to come up with the seventy-five hundred. Just like any other client."

"What if he can't. Will you have him killed?" Susie's voice trembled.

"Understand, I do not make the rules for how this game is played. But I have to do what I have to do in order to be successful." With that said, St. Croix stood up. "For the inconvenience of forty eight hours, you can erase the mistakes of your husband, but the choice is yours. I am going to go upstairs and shower. Adam will come and get you in five minutes and either show you to your room, where you find a bath drawn and clothes laid out on the bed that I would like you to wear this evening, or he will show you to your car. Either way the choice is yours.

The sunken tub was surrounded by lavender scented candles, another glass of wine was poured and waiting on the edge of the tub along with a straight razor and can of shaving lotion. On the counter was a variety of body oils and lotions. Between the bath and wine, Susie felt herself begin to relax a little bit. Besides, her course was now decided; at least for the next forty-eight hours.

On the bed was a black bra, matching thong panties, and a black cocktail dress. In the full length mirror that hung on the wall, Susie examined herself in the undergarments. Susie liked the way her ass looked in the thong. It accentuated her curves in a very sexy way. And her perfectly shaped C-cup breasts looked incredibly sexy in the matching sheer bra that was practically see through. Susie had to admit that even though repulsed by what she was about to do, a part of her was flattered and maybe even aroused by St. Croix. After all, this man could have his pick of women, and yet he had gone to so much trouble to get her and secretly she had always wondered what it would be like to fantasize about having sex with a black man.

When Susie reentered the living room, soft music was playing from unseen speakers. St. Croix, who was standing with his back to her turned as he heard her enter the room.

"Please sit down, Susie." St. Croix said, indicating the same couch as before. "I want to get to know you a little."

Susie nodded and sat on the sofa. Her stomach was churning and her pulse was racing from the fear she felt. All the relief from the bath had suddenly been washed away and replaced by the complete desire to run away from this.

This time St. Croix sat beside Susie on the couch, close, but not touching her. The art of seduction was not a new thing for him and his plan was simple. He would court her, make her his own and he would go slowly. Over time, he had become the master of seduction. He understood these women - the married ones - and he love the dominance of taking them from their pathetic husbands.

For a w minutes they just talked. St. Croix entertained Susie with stories from his childhood spent growing up on a small impoverished island in the Caribbean. His stories, while on initially humorous adventures of a young island boy, gradually became more heart wrenching as he delved beyond his usual pat seduction stories and actually told Susie of watching his father being executed in his own front yard in front of his family. Jerome remembered his mother begging for his father’s life on her hands and knees in the dirt.

As St. Croix continued to talk, and the alcohol flowed, a changed came over Susie. She was no longer sitting defensively with her hands folded protectively across her chest. While St. Croix relived the horror of his childhood, Susie turned her body toward him; their knees almost touching. At one point, as St. Croix struggled to recall the details of his father’s brutal execution, Susie even reached out and stroked his shoulder tenderly.

St. Croix was amazed by himself as well. He had told this story before, of course. So many times it seemed to lose its sense of reality; like it had happened to some other family. But now, with this woman, those childhood memories seemed real again and with them the pain. At one point, St. Croix became genuinely overcome by the emotion of the mental image of his father kneeling in the dirt that was their front yard. Chickens that St. Croix, himself tended, roamed oblivious to the horror playing out next to them even while St. Croix’s father knealt with his hands tied behind his back and a pistol positioned at the base of his scull. His father stared straight ahead, stone faced, even as his wife pleaded to the soldiers – offering herself in her husband’s place. Even up to the final moment, St. Croix’s father defied the government soldiers and refused to grovel for his own life.

Susie cried softly as St. Croix finished his tale and it was in that moment of weakness that he leaned over and covered her mouth with his own. Gently at first, almost thankfully, their lips touched and then with more urgency his tongue slid inside her mouth.

With only the briefest hint of hesitation, Susie allowed herself to be swept away in the wake of St. Croix’s heated passion.

While maintaining their fevered embrace, Susie found her hand sliding down St. Croix’s torso to where his raging erection lay encumbered by his pants.

Susie ran her hand curiously over the monstrous bulge. Of course she had heard the stories of the black man’s endowment, but this was the real thing and it was more than she had ever even fantasized about.

As they continued to kiss, Susie’s hands shook nervously as she fumbled with the buckle of St. Croix’s belt before finally getting it undone. She unzipped his pants and to her surprise, St. Croix wasn’t wearing underwear allowing his big dark cock to spring free from it’s confines.

Susie gasped in amazement at the size of St. Croix’s dick. Even as St. Croix continued trying to kiss her, Susie couldn’t keep her eyes off the dark snake. Giving up, St. Croix leaned back against the couch, content to watch this white woman as she explored what was obviously her first black cock.

“Do you like that?” St. Croix asked as Susie reached out and ran her finger over the glistening bulbous shaped head. His penis twitched eagerly at her touch.

“I…I…do,” Susie said breathlessly. “But it is just so BIG!”

“Is that a bad thing?” St. Croix laughed.

Susie continued to stare; her face a mixture of fascination and obvious arousal as her hand , unable to completely encircle the girth of St. Croix’s shaft, began to slowly stroke his cock.

“Why don’t you stand up,” St. Croix suggested as he pulled her hand away from his swollen member.

Susie obediently stood up and took a place in front of St. Croix who quickly shed his pants and silk shirt so that he sat in front of her completely naked. She drank in a lustful eyeful of St. Croix’s sculpted body as he hit a button on the stereo remote and the mournful sound of John Coltrane’s saxophone filled the room.

“Dance for me,” St. Croix instructed. His eyes roamed hungrily over her body even as it was still covered by the cocktail dress.

The effects of the alcohol seemed to make time slow down as Susie began slowly swaying her hips back and forth to the music. She let her hands explore the curves of her body as the music seemed to drive her to a new level of sensuality. As she felt herself slipping away on the rhythms of the music, she couldn’t help but notice St. Croix fondling himself appreciatively.

“Take off your dress,” St. Croix whispered as one hand cupped his ample testicles while the other slowly slid up and down on the shaft of his cock.

Susie had never felt more aroused than she did at this moment. Slowly she slipped the left strap of her dress off her shoulder and then the right. The dress clung for a moment on her firm breasts before slipping to the floor leaving her standing in front of St. Croix in only her thong, bra and high heeled shoes.

“Ohhh,” St. Croix sighed appreciatively. “Damn, you look good.”

Strangely, she felt an incredible sense of empowerment from St. Croix's obvious arousal. With one foot she pushed the crumpled dress out of the way and pivoted around so that the man could see her backside. Susie had the kind of ass that drove black men crazy. It was round, without being fat. It had the perfect heart shape to it.

Susie knew she had a good figure and while she normally didn't wear clothing that showed it, this felt good to her. She knew she was exciting this man and that gave her a feeling she was unaccustomed to. It was thrilling for her.

"Now the bra, Susie." She heard the voice say from behind her. "Take off the bra and let me see your white titties." Susie reached behind her undid the clasp of the bra before shaking her shoulders to get the bra to fall onto the floor along with her dress. She was aware of her nipples that were almost painfully erect. Running her hand over her tits, Susie pinched her nipples and felt a wave of pleasure flow to her pussy.

"Now get rid of the panties, Susie," St. Croix said his voice husky from the excitement he was feeling. "I want to see your white bare pussy."

Slowly she complied, swaying and moving to the beat of the primitive sounding drum. She turned and let him see the tiny strips of material cross the cheeks of her butt. When the thong had bee removed she slowly turned back to St. Croix and stood before him completely unclothed except for the shoes.

"Come here," he said, his voice much deeper. Susie took the three steps it took to stand directly in front of him. "Lean down and kiss me," he ordered.

When she did, he took both of her swaying breasts in his hands and gently rolled the nipples, causing her to moan into his mouth. St. Croix released one pebble like nipple and ran his hand down between her legs. She was moist; he knew she was his.

St. Croix motioned for Susie to kneel in front of him as he continued stroking his cock. "Take my cock in you hand, Susie." He said firmly. Use two hands if you wish." Susie reached out with a hand that was shaking and took the coal black tube. It was hot to the touch and alive with energy and larger than any penis she had ever seen. "Do you like it, Susie?" St. Croix asked softly.

Susie didn't answer, but managed to convey her appreciation for his manhood by moving her hand up and down.

"I want you to kiss it," St. Croix said using one large hand to move her head closer. "Kiss the tip of my cock."

Part of Susie wanted to scream "No!" but her head kept moving toward the giant phallus as if it had a mind of it's own. She gave the very tip a quick peck and pulled back almost as if she expected it to strike. The she leaned forward and kissed the purple head again, this time for a longer period, and soon she was licking the head and the shaft. Then she opened her mouth and put the head inside.