Hi, I have to tell you a secret, gambling has me hooked. I’ve gone bankrupt a couple of times in my life, but we got out of the hole by taking out loans at a bank where the manager is a friend from school. I promised my wife I wouldn’t gamble again, but I ran into another friend from school I hadn’t seen in ages. He’s a Black guy we used to call “Pigeon,” not because he was a little bird, but because of the size of his penis. One night, my school friends and I went out for dinner, and after a few drinks, we were all in high spirits until someone shouted, “Pigeon, dance!” Pigeon worked as a stripper, and climbing onto the table, he began his sensual dance. The women kept asking for more, more, more, and pieces of clothing kept falling off. When he was down to his underwear, a huge bulge was clearly visible in his crotch. All the women kept asking for more, more, more, and suddenly, when he passed in front of my wife, he winked at her and asked her to lower her ... Underpants, she held them by his hips and slowly pulled them down, enjoying what was appearing, until she revealed a cock of about twenty centimeters without being erect. All the women opened their eyes to try to etch the beauty of his cock into their retinas. He grabbed them and immediately pulled up his underpants. Well, as I was saying, I met up with the guy and we went for a couple of beers. We paid and I put what was left in the slot machine, and I was so unlucky that I hit the jackpot. We exchanged the coins for bills and I said to my friend, “Let’s go to the casino, we have to take advantage of this streak.” We played and there was less and less money left. I asked the guy if he had any money on him. He said he had ten thousand euros to pay for a sports car ticket. I begged him to lend it to me ... I lost it too. The next day I went to the bank to ask for a loan to pay my friend the guy back and they denied me. I told the guy and he ... He said, “Dude, debts have to be paid, and if you can’t pay them, I want to fuck your wife whenever I want, and I want to use her to get my money back by making her work as a prostitute.” I didn’t know how to tell Selena, but when I finally did, her face lit up. “Honey, you mean I’m going to fuck that chick? Whenever he feels like it?” “I’m going to have so much fun.”

The Deal

I couldn’t believe it. I’d expected tears, screams, recriminations. Maybe a slap. But Selena ... Selena lit up. Her eyes shone in a way I hadn’t seen in years, not even when I won that lottery prize a while back.

“You mean,” she repeated, coming closer, almost jumping with excitement, “that I’m going to fuck that chick? Whenever he feels like it?”

“Selena, this is serious,” I tried to explain, desperate. “Ten thousand euros. I have no way to pay it.” The bank told me no. That I already have too many loans. That it’s not viable.

“And Pichón,” she continued, ignoring my distress, her mind clearly elsewhere. “Pichón wants me to be his ... his whore. To get the money back. By working? With other men?”

“Yes,” I sighed, feeling the humiliation burn my cheeks. “He says that if he can’t get paid in cash, he’ll get paid ... another way. That he wants to make you work. And that he ... that he’ll use you too. Whenever and however he wants.”

Selena was silent for a moment. Then she burst out laughing. Not bitter. Not ironic at all. Genuine, excited, full of anticipation.

“Darling,” she said, taking my face in her hands, kissing me with a tenderness that disarmed me. “Don’t you see? This is perfect. You get to pay off your debt.” I ... I get what I’ve been wanting since that night at Carlos’s bachelor party.

“What?”

“When I pulled down his underwear,” she sighed, her eyes lost in the memory. “When I saw that ... that huge thing. Black. Perfect. Twenty-something centimeters flaccid, baby. Imagine it erect. Imagine it inside me.”

I sat down. My legs gave way. I collapsed onto the living room sofa, staring at her like she was a stranger.

“You ... you want this?”

“I want this,” she confirmed, kneeling in front of me, her hands finding my knees. “I’ve fantasized about it. About him. About that black cock that makes yours look...” She stopped, biting her lip. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Too late,” I murmured, but without conviction.

“Think about it,” he insisted, his voice lowering, becoming husky and sensual. “You’d be debt-free. Pichón would get his money back. And I ... I’d have what I’ve always wanted to try. A black cock. Big. Really big. Not like...”

“Like mine,” she finished for him, feeling the sting of humiliation.

“You’re perfect, darling,” she said, but her eyes told a different story. “But Pichón ... Pichón is special. And now, legally, morally, it would be right. Because of the debt. Because of the money.”

The First Night

Pichón came to the house that same week. He was wearing an impeccable, though casual, suit. He smiled like someone who knows he’s won.