Paying Hubby’s Debts

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Paying Hubby’s Debts on The Installment Plan

(c) 2015, 2022 by Sir Render

Her husband was downstairs in the den/office. He had spent hours each night for the past week down there rummaging through financial documents, trying to find anything he could sell or cash in to make ends meet. Predictably, she thought, he had found nothing. Meanwhile, in the upstairs master bathroom, lavishly appointed with his and hers monogrammed towels and sporting a full makeup table with mirror outlined in lights, she sat wearing her favorite fuzzy bathrobe over top a semi-sheer corset, panties, garter belt with straps running down to dark tan thigh high stockings and six inch ruby red heels while carefully brushing blush over her slender cheek bones.

It was one week ago when her life took a most unexpected turn and she had moved from being the trophy wife of a gambling-addicted former multi-millionaire to having all the power in their marriage.

She had long suspected that her husband’s in-home business meetings were less about products and sales strategies and more about high stakes gambling. He had made his millions in legitimate business but kept himself going on the occasional big win. Their spending — vacations to Europe and Tahiti, a new car every two years, dining in fine restaurants — was more than his salary alone would bear.

On that night two men — two very large, exceptionally muscular men — arrived at the front door of the couple’s spacious uptown home. She thought maybe she recognized one of the men from her husband’s business dealings, but they never involved her and she found business talk boring so she usually left the room whenever her husband met with someone. The one she might have seen before was a huge black man, at least six feet seven inches with a barrel chest and enormous biceps. He wore his short black hair in cornrows and sported a sharp goatee.

Sitting before her vanity mirror, at last satisfied with the job she had done blending her face makeup, she found her brightest red lipstick and began to apply it meticulously to her full pouting lips. Too much and she would look like a cheap whore. Crooked or uneven and she would give the impression that she didn’t care. Being a trophy wife means always looking your sexiest and she needed to be sexy for the big night she had ahead.

When the two huge men whose biceps were as big around as Easter hams showed up at their door, her husband had sent her away telling her to go watch television or a movie or to spend all night on the phone to her girl friends. This was nothing unusual and she thought little of it except that her husband’s manner that night seemed a bit nervous and she could see that his neck and back were tense. But that was just one of the things over the past few years which had led her to suspect he was gambling their life savings away and so again while it was plain to her how tightly wound up he was that night, it wasn’t entirely out of character.

She had gone to another room and poured herself a glass of wine, then turned on the television and begun flipping through the program guide to find something worth watching. All was well until she heard a loud crash from the other room, like a glass lamp or the door to the liquor cabinet had been broken. With a start she jumped up and, still with the glass of wine held in her left hand, hurried to see what had happened.

It was a lamp, sure enough. It lay in broken shards against the wall opposite from where it had always stood atop an end table. One of the huge men had a huge hand on her husband’s shoulder as he sat scrunched down on the leather sofa. The other man, the one she thought she might have seen before, stood near the now barren end table.

All three men looked up at her when she entered the room. Her husband choked out, “This doesn’t involve you, sweetheart. J-just go upstairs, okay? Please?”

The six foot three or four white man with the bald head and dark sunglasses who had his hand on her husband’s shoulder said, “No Mike, why don’t you tell her what you did? Tell her what’s going to happen to you so she won’t be afraid. We wouldn’t want to frighten your little doll.”

Her husband gulped and avoided eye contact. The man standing behind him bent and used his other hand to forcefully turn her husband’s head to face her. “Tell the little lady what you’ve done, Mike.”

“I– I lost a bet.”

“Ho ho, not just a bet,” chortled the black man as he moved across the floor to drag her into the room by the elbow and shut the door behind her. “Not just a little, measly, meaningless bet. Tell her everything.”

Her husband tried to look away but the bulky white guy kept his face pointed toward her while the even bigger black man’s güvenilir bahis hand began to squeeze off the circulation in her arm.

“I lost… twenty-five thousand in a bet.”

The black man said, “And?”

There was a moment’s pause before her husband admitted, “And I lost the BMW.”

“And when were you supposed to make delivery?” the big white guy asked.

“Today. By noon.”


“I gave the guy the keys to the car, but I couldn’t come up with the cash. Honestly guys, I’ll get the money. I just need time to get it. It’s tied up in savings and investments, but I can get it out, I just need a little time.”

“Time is up,” announced the black man still gripping her by the arm. “Now tell her what’s going to happen because you didn’t pay your debt.”

“They’re gonna beat the shit out of me,” her husband almost whimpered. His lip was trembling.

“If you’re lucky,” spat the big white guy keeping him planted firmly in the sofa.

That was how it began, her rise to power in their relationship. What happened next brought shivers of excitement to her taut body. She parted her fuzzy bathrobe and admired the way the corset framed her figure — full, heavy breasts, slender waist and hips, and the material was fashioned so that it formed quarter inch vertical stripes alternating between solid white and completely sheer. On one breast her nipple was visible through the material, on the other just the areola on either side of the nipple could be seen.

Thinking about how that night a week earlier had turned out, she couldn’t help herself and slipped a hand inside her panties to stroke her pussy lips and rub the nub of her clitoris. Tonight was going to be plenty special, but she was already getting worked up and needing to cum.

So there she was, being firmly gripped by a black man a foot and a half taller who looked like he could break her in half with zero effort, and her husband being restrained by a big white guy halfway across the room. What was there for a trophy wife to do? She snarled, “You lost the car? And you kept betting and lost twenty-five thousand?”

“I thought I could win back the car,” hubby argued. “I was sure I had a winning hand; a full house kings over jacks.”

“You lost the car AND twenty-five thousand?” she repeated harshly. Some of that might have been due to the firm grip the black thug had on her arm, she was certainly not feeling comfortable, but some of it was anger and spite for her husband’s gambling problem and not knowing when to stop.

“See Mike, she gets it. She knows what’s what. And you thought she would be too stupid to understand.”

She stared at her husband. “Did you…? Did you tell them I’m stupid?”

“Well ma’am, he didn’t use those exact words,” the black man apologized, sounding strangely sympathetic for a big bruiser.

A moment passed in silence, then she yelled at her husband, “Well what the fuck are you going to do now? Are you going to just sit there like a dope or find some way to pay these men and get them the fuck out of our house?”

Her husband did try to stand, but the guy standing behind him still had a huge paw on his shoulder and pushed him back down. Then a large, shiny, jagged edged blade was brought out and twirled near her husband’s cheek, glinting in just the light of the overhead fixture since the lamp had already been smashed against a wall.

She lost her nerve and became fearful and defensive when the knife came out. She stopped spitting venom at her husband. “Whoa, wait. Come on now guys, let’s not rush to be violent. We can work this out without spilling blood. Can’t we?”

The black man cocked his head to one side as if pondering, then shook his head and said, “Nah, afraid not. We’re here to collect, one way or the other.”

“But… but there must be something else you’d take in payment. Something… we have some nice artwork which you could sell for some good money.”

“Do we look like art dealers?” asked the white thug.

Her husband sputtered, “I’ve got a couple hundred bucks in a wall safe. I keep it for emergencies. I could pay you that now and come up with the rest in a week.”

“We’ll be happy to take what you have,” the white guy sneered, “but if we don’t walk outta here with twenty-five G’s, then you won’t be walking out at all.”

She struggled against her black captor, trying to twist herself free. “Please, fellas, let’s come up with something. I know, how about our silverware? It’s real silver. Passed down in his family for generations.”

“It’s a start, but still not enough,” said the black thug.

It was then that she struck upon her idea; an idea which she hoped would buy them some time to gather the money to pay off the debt güvenilir bahis siteleri but at the same time would punish her husband for being so stupid without anyone getting seriously hurt or killed.

“I– I know what,” she said, lightly biting her bottom lip and batting her eyes at the black behemoth. “How about… if… I show you two boys a good time tonight. Would that pay off any of the debt and give my husband time to get the rest of the money together?”

“What, you mean…”

She fluttered her eyelashes again at him. He let go of her arm and stood back to look her up and down. “Tight little body, cute butt.” Then he reached forward and brazenly squeezed her boobs. “Nice tits. How are you at dick sucking, little thang?”

“How do you think I married a millionaire?”

“Well tell you what. Mike, why don’t you go and bring back everything you keep in that safe, and the silverware, and in the meantime little lady you suck my big black dong and if you do it real good and real nice and do everything I tell you to do then we’ll think about it.”

“Oh come on!” cried her husband. “You can’t be serious. You can’t go raping a guy’s wife just because he’s a little short on a payment.”

“First off, you’re a helluva lot short on your payment. And your sexy little wife just offered, so it ain’t rape. Now go and get the goods while your wife swallows my cock.”

She didn’t even look at her husband but knew he was staring in disbelief as she dropped to her knees and began unbuckling the black man’s belt. The big white guy yanked her husband up off the leather sofa and prodded him out of the room. From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of her exasperated husband pointing and trying to form words as the bulbous head of the black man’s cock, the first black cock she had ever seen in real life, disappeared between her lips.

His cock wasn’t particularly long, she guessed maybe six or seven inches, but it was fat and it pulsed against the palm of her little hand and her fingers as she stroked it and suckled on the head. She likened it to trying to stuff an entire portobello mushroom in her mouth.

She slurped and sucked while curling her tongue over every curve and bump and into every crevice of his cock head. Meanwhile she stroked his fat prick with her smooth hand. He provided verbal encouragement and instructed her to use her other hand to stroke his balls. She tentatively reached up and cupped his scrotum. She hadn’t really been paying attention to his ball sack before, but it felt extremely heavy and full in her hand. She hefted it on her palm before gently closing her fingers to cup it. She used her (phony) fingernails to lightly scratch his hairy sack.

The black guy took in a sharp breath at that, and she noticed that his cock twitched violently, so she kept doing it. She was going to make her husband sorry for being such a bad gambler but she was also going to show the two thugs that she had teeth — figuratively speaking — and she was not to be messed with.

When she withdrew from his cock to catch her breath, he suggested she should take off her top so he could see her “big titties”. She hated that word, titties, it sounded so juvenile, but it was at least better than boobies. Still, she did as she was told and soon he was looking down not only at her lovely soft face with her lovely green eyes and wavy brown hair but also her bare breasts which had filled a D cup bra.

She soon got back to sucking on his cock but she went back and forth from sucking on its fat head to licking up and down its shaft while she continued to squeeze and lightly scratch his balls.

When her husband and the big white thug returned a few minutes later, she had one of the black guy’s balls between her lips and was moaning from the depths of her throat.

“Oh honey!” her husband pleaded. “For the love of god, there has to be another way. You don’t have to do what these guys tell you.” But she gave him a sideways look and continued sucking, then went back to wrapping her lips around the girth of his cock, bobbing her head on it while rocking back and forth on her knees. She worked her way farther and farther down the pulsing black cock with each bob of her head. After a time she had to come back up for air but went right back down on that meaty, juicy cock.

“Man Mikey, your bitch wife has sure got some cock sucking skills,” the black man taunted. “She got a nice wet mouth, and her throat feels so tight as I’m going down it.” In fact he was not going down her throat, she could only work about two-thirds of his shaft into her mouth because it was so god damned thick!

The white thug pushed her husband into a chair and went to stand beside her while getting iddaa siteleri out his own cock.

She wrapped one small, soft hand around each cock and for several minutes took turns sucking one then the other and back again. The white guy wasn’t nearly as wide as his black friend but just as long. She was able to work the head of his cock into the back of her mouth where she began to choke, so she had to stop that, but she continued stroking both men and bobbing her head up and down the lengths of them as far as she could stand to take them.

With her own blood pounding in her ears from the combination of anger (at her husband), terror (of the two big thugs threatening violence) and exhilaration (at what she was doing) she barely heard her husband’s feeble complaints from behind her as he continued to plead with her to not do this.

After what could have been five or ten minutes or half an hour — she had lost track of the time — the men guided her to her feet, stripped her of her remaining clothing and stood her bending over so one could penetrate her pussy while the other was in her mouth.

With her big boobs hanging and swaying back and forth she was fucked from both ends. She held onto the hips of the white guy while sucking his cock. The black man fucking her pussy stretched her inner walls and was ruthless in pounding into her. The slapping of the fronts of his thighs against her ass was almost deafening and his pace was brutal. She let the white guys’ cock drop from between her lips to pant and gasp and let out grunts of pleasure as well as copious amount of drool.

The guys traded off cupping and squeezing her tits while she was bent over. Their enormous hands squishing her supple natural breasts.

She should not have been so turned on by the situation, she thought. But she couldn’t help it. It drove her wild with passion to be skewered by two big cocks belonging to two huge studs who could easily have had their way with her if she hadn’t offered. She tried to take white thug in her mouth again but kept losing him as she lost control of her muscles. She climaxed with black thug deep inside her. Moments later he locked up and filled her belly with his hot, baby-making semen.

The guys switched places and white thug began to probe her pussy with his cock while the black guy stuffed her face full of his meat to have her suck him clean. She did, tasting the saltiness of his cum mingled with the tang of her pussy juice. It was heady and wild and she soon came a second time from the overall thrill of the situation.

Black guy wasn’t quite done. He stood her upright and played with her tits for a while. He bent way down to suck on them, closing his teeth just enough around one of her hard nubs to cause her to squeal and squirm.

To help herself along to another orgasm, no longer needing to steady herself while being bent over, she began rubbing her clitoris while the white thug kept fucking her pussy from behind. Soon after the white thug began to spurt hot semen into her womb. She was furiously rubbing herself now, desperate to climax one last time before the guys had their fill and left her in a lurch, and she spasmed mightily in his lap while crying out loud.

As it turned out, it wasn’t over for her, though. Her husband cried foul as the black guy’s cock livened up again and became semi-hard. He laid her across the sofa with one of her feet up on the back and the other on the floor and mounted her in the missionary position. Having already cum, he was able to go for even longer now and bounced on top of her for many long minutes while she groaned and gasped, panted and begged for more. He mauled her poor tender breasts with his huge hands and nuzzled her neck. She squealed some more, causing her husband to grimace from his seat just a few feet away. And then the black guy ejaculated inside her again, though with barely any semen this time as his balls had not had time to reload.

Before they left, with all the cash the couple had on hand and all their silverware, they told the couple they would be back in one week to collect the rest of the money.

And there she sat today, in front of her vanity mirror making herself up for her two thug lovers who were coming to collect on hubby’s debts which he still could not pay, bringing herself to a pre-festivities orgasm. She would give herself to them again while her husband watched helpless from across the room as partial payment on his debts.

This time she might let one of them cum on her face just so hubby could see it all run down her chin and neck and onto her chest, all gooey and clingy. The other she would still want to cum inside her, and with any luck she was already or soon would be pregnant. As to her husband, he was doing exactly as she told him now because she was all that stood between him and the thugs who were ready to cripple him.

The doorbell rang and she sprang up to hurry downstairs and meet them wearing her lingerie and high heels.

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