Chapter One
Jake Daniels jumped up and cheered along with a thousand other fans of the Thunderbirds as the new forward made a, "nothing but net" three point shot from the corner. Watching the Thunderbirds play basketball was about the most exciting thing to do in Fargo, North Dakota. The CBA team was struggling in the standings of the small league that had declined and now consisted of only five teams.
Jake always bought bleacher seats on a per game basis. No season tickets for him. As he looked down across the floor at the Thunderbirds bench, he wondered again how Clyde Monroe could afford seats on the floor, the best in the auditorium. After all, they both worked in maintenance at the Air Force Base and made about the same money, which wasn't very much. Unless Clyde had won the lottery, Jake couldn't see how he could do it. He told himself that at halftime he would have to ask Clyde to share his secret. At the midway point in the game, the Thunderbirds were leading the Albany Patroons by 10 points.
Jake loved the game of basketball, especially as a spectator. In high school he wasn't tall enough to go out for the team, or so he told himself. The CBA put on as good a show as the NBA because all of the players and the coaches wanted to be called up to the big league so they played their hearts out. They played for the love of the game and the hope of being recognized for their, talent, determination and enthusiasm just so they had a slim chance of being called up. They sure didn't play for the money. They were paid poverty level salaries. The player's wives and girlfriends couldn't travel with them because they stayed in a rundown apartment building with two men sharing a tiny studio room and just a small fridge and a microwave for cooking. However, the teams owner did have to spend a small fortune renovating the 7 apartments to accommodate the giants that lived in them. Seven foot beds. Higher doors. Even handicapped toilets because they were higher.
At the concession stand Jake worked his way through the crowd until he was standing next to Clyde. "How's it going, man?"
"Great," Clyde answered. "Tell me what you want to eat and drink Jake. It's on me. I don't pay for anything here." He boasted.
"Just a hot dog and a Coors Lite."
"You got it."
When the order was filled they found a table for two squeezed into a corner. "I love the Thunderbirds," Jake said.
"Me too. Them coming to town was about the best thing that could have happened to this place." He took a bite of his hotdog and then washed it down with a swig of beer. "I never miss a game."
"I try to catch several home games during the season but I sure can't see everyone. Costs too damn much with parking and food. Emily, I think you've met my wife, would like to come but that just about doubles everything so I usually come by myself."
"Fuck man, that's no fun." Clyde seemed like he was thinking about what he wanted to say next to Jake. The mention of Emily, Jake's unbelievably beautiful wife, made him wonder if he should tell Jake more than common sense told him he should.
"I can't afford these nights out any more than you my friend." Clyde paused then said, "Truth is, I don't pay a cent for the floor seat, parking, any food or beer. I don't pay for anything period."
"Okay. You've got me. Tell me your secret so that I can join your exclusive club."
"Wish I could, but I'd get my ass in a sling if I told you what's going on."
"Oh no you don't," Jake said. "You can't tell me that you go to every home game, sit in the best seats in the house, get free parking, food and beer and then not tell me how you do it. That's just not fair."
"You're right. You're right. However, I think if I told you everything you want to know you wouldn't think very much of me."
"What are you talking about Clyde?" He thought about what Clyde had said and then asked him, "Is what you're doing illegal?"
"I don't think so." It seemed as if this was the first time he had wondered about that. "No, I think it's legal but a lot of people, probably you too, might say it's just plain wrong."
"Come on Clyde. We're not getting anywhere. I don't judge people. Whatever you do is your business. It's none of mine. Tell me what's going on."
"You've got to promise to keep what I tell you to yourself. You can't tell anyone, including your wife."
"Promise. Now go on."
"This arrangement involves others, not just me. Actually, I'm the least of those involved. It's all about the players and the coaches. You know that they play for peanuts with a chance, not much of a chance, but a chance to make it big if they get called up. Hell, I've heard of a player going from $7,000 for a season to $7,000,000 a year later."
"Yeah, I know."
"So these guys move here for the season. They stay at that crummy apartment building and have to leave their wives and girlfriends back home."
"I know that," Jake said.
"Well, they get lonely. These are guys got all the pussy they could handle in college. If they were in the NBA, or even a major city, they would be mobbed by beautiful women, usually white women."
Jake sat up straighter, leaned toward Clyde. Where the fuck was this going he asked himself. To Clyde he said, "Go on."
"Well, you've seen my wife. Maybe she can't be compared with Emily, hell who can, but most people think she's really cute. At the beginning of the season I brought her to the very first game. We sat in the bleacher section across from the Thunderbird's bench about where you're sitting tonight. There weren't many women watching that game and none that could be compared with Liz. She was smokin hot?"
Jake's mouth dropped open but he didn't say anything.
Clyde went on. "As we were leaving, a young trainer who couldn't have been a day over twenty came up to us and said, "Got a minute?" Liz and I looked at each other and I said, "Sure. What's on your mind?"
"I'm Brad, by the way." He said with a huge smile showing perfect snow-white teeth as he stuck out his hand which we each shook . "Let me get right to the point. The coach and several of the players saw the two of you in the stands and asked me to come and talk with you." He paused for just a second, cleared his throat and went on. "The life that these guys lead is far from the glamour of the NBA or even when they were big men on college campuses." He started walking away from the crowd and indicated that we should follow him. "This is more private. I don't want the whole world to hear what I want to tell you."
"Well Brad," Liz said a little annoyed, "What do you want to talk about?"
"I like that," Brad said turning to Clyde, "a woman who gets right to the point. Okay, I will too. The players and the coaches are alone here. Let's face it, Fargo isn't the excitement capital of the world. These guys don't know anyone. The black population in Fargo is essentially non existent. They don't have their wives or girlfriends with them. Obviously, they get very lonely. One of the under the table benefits that we try to provide for the team and the staff is special companionship."
Both Liz and I were trying to digest what Brad had told us. "What does that have to do with us?" I asked him.
Without missing a beat he said, "Like I told you, some of the players and the coaches saw you tonight in the stands across from our bench." He turned to me and said, "They think your wife is hot. I hope you take that as a compliment and not an insult. They would like to get to know her better while they're here."
"I remembered that several times during the game, players sitting on the bench would look our way, sometimes point and whisper something to the player on their right or left. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time nor did I say anything about it to Liz."
"There it was." Clyde said. " Brad the trainer was a messenger sent to ask both of us if Liz would be willing to fuck the team. I think we were both so shocked we didn't know what to say. Should we be offended? Should Liz have slapped him?"
"So, what do you think?" Brad asked them while flashing his boyish smile again.
"I saw that Liz was beet red and looking uncomfortably at her shoes. We're small town people Jake. Hell, you know that. We've never fucked around. Liz had been with two guys before me but they didn't amount to anything. I'm sure she was faithful during our marriage. Now, she had just been asked to consider fucking ten players and two or three members of the staff, most of them black men."
I turned to Brad and said, "We're both shocked. I don't know what to say."
I intended to say more but Brad cut me off. I sensed this wasn't the first time he had approached a couple. "Of course you're shocked. I'd be surprised if you weren't. The woman that provided the companionship before just left with her husband when he was transferred by the Air Force. Look, let me give you my card with my cell phone number on it. Talk it over and give me a call. If this is something you would like to do we can comp you seats on the floor, free parking and free food and drink. I hope you'll consider it. By the way, what are your first names?" He asked as he gave us his card with the cell number underlined.
"Uh, we're uh, Liz and Clyde." I told him.
"Thanks, got to run." and he was off.
Jake had almost forgotten about his hot dog and beer. He took a swig and said, "Clyde, I'm not a rocket scientist but because of your seats and privileges I assume that you took him up on his offer. Is that right?"
"We did. It's the best thing I've ever done but it wasn't easy. Oh, I like the free stuff here but that's not what I mean. Liz is like a different woman. You can't even imagine what it's done for her. She had no real sexual experience except with me. Now she's fucked all of these big black jocks with cocks that go places in her pussy mine could never go. She gets all the sex she wants which is a lot. She's hotter with me than she's ever been and I get all the goodies. She's not going to fall in love with any of them. Hell, who even knows who is going to be here next week. The roster on a CBA team changes faster and more frequently than a hooker changes her panties."
"I have to tell you that the ride home after we left Brad was quiet. We were each lost in our own thoughts. We didn't talk about the proposition until we were under the covers in our bed. She brought it up."
"Wasn't that about the craziest thing you ever heard.?"