Copyright© 2006 by Carlos Malenkov

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm getting at. Anal sex does skew the odds. It disturbs the natural order of things and scrambles the probability distribution. If anyone ought to know, I should."

"Well, it most certainly sounds like a load of horseshit to me."

"Listen, Mick, you think I'm in this for kicks? Because I just happen to like sticking my cock into any random signorita's butthole? Hey, I'd always thought asses were for toilet functions -- not for insertion of body parts, and certainly not for sex -- and even the idea of ass play used to make me sick. But, then this one particular woman came along -- a rock star wannabe she was -- and she kept nagging and nagging at me until I finally gave in and tried it. Then, I noticed something really strange... "

Julian was idly flipping a coin. Strange -- it seemed to be coming up tails more often than it should. So what? Sandy was still lying there on the the bed bare-ass naked, in fact, with that skinny bare ass sticking straight up into the air. Probably with his come still oozing out of the brown-rimmed hole between the cheeks of that bare ass. Man, what a wild ride it had been. Her rectal chamber had been hot enough to melt his cock like a wax candle.

Eight times in a row. Tails. Finally, a head. Then, five more tails. Nah, it couldn't be.

Just for the heck of it, he went over and got a pair of dice of out his traveling bag. They were honest dice, too, not shaved or weighted. Okay, let's see now. Seven. All right. Another seven. Eleven. Seven, seven...

Sure, why not? There was this diner down the road, maybe twenty minutes by car, that had video poker machines. He'd drive down and see if this weird lucky streak held.

A pair of jacks. The machine had finally beaten him. Well, he was still thirty bucks ahead. Not bad for feeding in quarters for half an hour. But the "magic" after-sex luck had faded out. And, the scrambled eggs on his plate were cold and rubbery and overdone.

"Yeah, hon, it'll be nice and dirty, just the way you love it. We'll strut right into the casino, dressed up real elegant, you know, just like any other respectable couple. But, you'll have nothing on underneath. That's right -- totally bare-ass naked underneath. Then, a few minutes later, you'll visit the Ladies' Room, and I'll wait in the corridor just outside. If the coast is clear, you give three quick raps on the door -- like this. Then, I'll sneak inside real quick, making sure no one's looking, of course. We'll slip into a stall and latch the door. And then, you'll bend over for me and flip your up skirt."

He picked up $283 at the blackjack table right afterwards. Before his luck turned sour and he dropped a quick $60. But, that was still a cool 200 bucks ahead, even counting the cost of dry-cleaning the suit jacket where he had spilled a martini on it. Not too shabby for a quickie restroom ass-fuck. But still, nothing like the big money this thing ought to be worth. If he could only figure out how.

"Well, Mick, Sandy started in bugging me about, well, about letting her do me. You know, letting her fuck me with one of those strap-on gadgets. That's right, a dildo. Up my ass. Imagine that. Just like I was a queer being cornholed by another guy."

"And, you let her?"

"Yeah, well, after winning that money I kind of figured I owed her one. Not to mention that I was just a teeny bit curious what it would feel like on the receiving end."

"Look, Julie, if you can just learn to relax your sphincter -- yeah, that sphincter -- then it won't hurt. At worst, you'll feel a mild burning sensation. And, some men find they like it. That it gives them a much more intense rush than sticking their cock into a hole."

"Sure, Sandy. Just this once. And then you'll shut up and go back to acting like a real woman, instead of being pushy and wanting to get your own way all the time?"

"We'll see about that. Right now, just shut up and bend over."

"It turns out I fucking liked it. A lot. That silicone cock plunging in and out of me gave me the most explosive orgasm of my life. It was like a volcanic eruption boiling out of my ass. It was so good it scared the hell out of me. And afterwards...

"... well, we right away drove up to the nearest convenience store and bought half dozen state lottery tickets. I figured, why not, maybe reverse anal would do an extra-good job on jiggering the odds. And, guess what."

"What? You won?"

"Eighteen fucking thou, we won. Five out of six. And, it would have been a shitload more if 60 other people hadn't also picked those same numbers. And, we were only one off on the sixth. Just a hair shy of winning the Big Enchilada. Fifty-five fucking million."

"You have my sincerest sympathy."

"No need for sarcasm, Mick. And, I really do deserve sympathy. As it happens, Sandy ran off with every last cent of the $18,000. Last I heard she was somewhere on the coast making a career for herself as an entertainer. An honest-to-goodness rock star, if you can believe that shit. Only, she's calling herself Alexxia now. And, I'm flat fuckin' broke. In spite of my so-called luck."

"Hey, Julie. Let's assume for a moment that something really did happen, that somehow anal sex did alter your luck. But, you know, the flaw in all this is... Why now? Why you of all people? It seems to me that if ass-fucking buggers the odds, then someone would certainly have noticed by now. All those hetero couples throughout human history who ever tried sodomy and all the gays who've been sticking it up each other's asses, and nobody's ever parlayed it into gambling winnings? Sounds pretty damn unlikely to me."

"Unlikely? Mick, why don't you just come right out and say impossible? No, it's all a figment of my imagination. No, sodomy doesn't confer an evolutionary advantage. No, Alexander the Great, a practicing bisexual, wasn't a conqueror. No, Julius Caesar -- 'every woman's husband and every man's wife, ' as one historian put it -- wasn't one of the finest military strategists of all time. No, Oscar Wilde wasn't the most famous playwright of his time. No, Arthur Rimbaud wasn't a great poet. And so on."

"Hey, fellow. Just taking the contrarian point of view. From my own experience I know how anal can enhance a person's life, above and beyond the sensual pleasure, I mean. And, you know that I know. We've known each other -- how long now? I'm your friend and confidante, after all. Me, Mick, the gay man everyone turns to for advice on matters relating to the gay life."

"Yeah, Mick, that's why I'm spilling my guts out to you. I think I'm on to something. Something potentially very big. And, I'm asking you for help."

"What kind of help?"

"Help in figuring this thing out. And, help in doing something about it. You see, there seems to be a kind of problem with all this. Every time I get on a lucky streak after anal sex, the luck is just a teeny bit flaky at the edges. I don't quite win big, or something happens that leaves a rotten taste in my mouth. There's got to be something wrong somewhere, or maybe I'm doing something ass-backwards."

"Sure, Jule. It does make a weird sort of sense, now that I think about it. Even those historical examples you cited were flawed. Alexander the Great gobbled up a huge empire, all right, but he died young. Caesar was stabbed in the gut by one of his trusted friends. Wilde ended up in the slammer -- disgraced, dishonored, and bankrupt. Rimbaud had a tormented life and died young. And, so on. Could be this is something you'd be better off leaving alone, guy. Quit while you're ahead, as the saying goes."