The Old Boyfriend
Copyright© 2023 by A Bad Attitude
Chapter 3: Jamal’s Story
Suspense Sex Story: Chapter 3: Jamal’s Story - Slut wife meets an old boyfriend. She has no idea the problems he brings with him!
Caution: This Suspense Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Crime Cheating Slut Wife BTB Interracial Black Male White Female Anal Sex First Size 2nd POV Revenge
Jamal---Want to know my story? Ok, here goes. I played high school basketball. I was good but not that good. My senior year I met Sue and we started dating. I got her cherry one night in the back seat of my grandmother’s Buick. What can I say? It was tight, white teen-age pussy. Of course it was good. We dated about 6 months as I remember then she moved off. I never heard from her again.
I graduated and of course there was no job for a poor black kid who barely graduated. My basketball skills did not get me any offers to go to college so I did the only thing available. I started selling drugs on the corner. I was bringing in good money. My grandmother did not approve and tried to get me to stop but I could not find anything else. I moved up in the organization. I became a favorite with one of the Mexican bosses and I started managing some of the guys on the corners. One night this Mexican and I caught one of my boys stealing from us. To set an example I took him in an alley and capped his ass. At first I planned on throwing that gun in the river but then I had an idea.
This Mexican liked to practice shooting his pistol so I took him to a gun range. As we were finishing up I made a joke about my pistol not shooting straight. He took it and fired it about eight times and handed it back to me saying, “It’s not the pistol it’s the Pistolero.”
I said a sarcastic “Thanks” while grinning on the inside.
Things went well for almost 2 years. I was moving up in the Rio Bravo cartel. I had my own section of the city and I was rolling in dough. I picked up 10 kilos of heroin at the border and was on my way to deliver them when I had a flat. A cop stopped to help me. I tried, too hard I guess, to tell him I did not need any help. He opened the trunk and about 5 more cop cars appeared. I had been discovered. They were all Feds and after I was booked a lawyer appeared. He told me to keep my mouth shut and he would get me a deal.
Two days later he comes in and tells me they offered 25 years. I would be out in 15. I told him sure set it up.
Back in my cell I told the guard I wanted to talk to the DEA agent that busted me. In an interview room outside of the ears of the other prisoners I made a better deal. I told them a story about Jose Gomez shooting a street dealer and I had the pistol with his prints on it to prove it. I wanted witness protection and no jail time.
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