tagInterracial LoveYou Can't Cheat An Honest Man

You Can't Cheat An Honest Man

byR. Richard©

I am a world class poker player with the winnings to back up my claim. When I have the dice in my hand, craps is not really a game of chance. I am an expert marksman with a pistol, even off a fast draw. I have a black belt in kung-fu.

Why yes, I do happen to make my living as a gambler. How did you ever guess?

Due to the nature of my business and the dark, suspicious minds of those who lose at high-stakes gambling, I travel quite a bit. Even when I am not actively engaged in gambling, the borderline criminal individuals with whom I deal often require my sudden departure from an area. Such is my last, rather sad experience and borderline is actually a rather kindly judgment.

As I drive down yet another nameless highway, I ponder on my latest acquisition. I have more than a million dollars in crisp new currency in a very expensive leather bag. Mind you, the currency is counterfeit. It is good counterfeit, but still counterfeit. It seems to me that a man should be able to make something of such a windfall, but nothing comes immediately to mind.

I stop for gas in Indian Wells. It is a dismal little burg. Indian reservation land sandwiched between two metropolitan areas. However, there is a certain something about the place.

Checking, I find my car needs service. I always take care of my car. Take care of your car and it will take care of you. In my business, the proper functioning of a man's car can literally be the difference between life and death. My life and my death.

While my car is being serviced, I think I will just play a little poker to keep my hand in. There is a small card room in one corner of a strip mall. When I walk in the place, I nearly fall over. The man running the place is the SOB who cut and ran, owing a young man several hundred dollars as a result of shooting pool. Since I am the young man, I think I will see if I can collect my money; plus interest and penalties.

I sit down play poker for a while. The place is not too busy. The players are not very good. The best of them is Monica. As it happens she is the daughter of the deadbeat SOB who still owes me money. Monica's main talent is using the view down her low-cut blouse to distract the other players. She seems mildly attracted to me; probably because I am winning. However, when I play poker, I am all business.

When I have taught the locals a bit about poker and collected the tuition, I quit for the day. I roam around town and talk with other locals. By the time I return to pick up my car I have formed an opinion of Indian Wells. The place is a gold mine for the right man and I am the right man.

I do some more research over the next several days. Indian Wells is Indian reservation land. It would have become part of one of the two cities on either side, but its status as federal land prevented that. However, Indian land has certain tax and legal advantages. All I need is a little advantage and your money is in my pocket.

The local Indians are mostly dirt poor with few prospects for improvement. The key to the situation is one Tyler Robert, the Chief of the local Indian tribe. If I can convince the Chief that my plan will work, I can become a wealthy, respected citizen of the area.

I visit Tyler Robert a few days later. I outline a bit of my research. I point out that Indian Wells is a very low income area. I also point out that I have a two-part solution to the problem. If the Indians will cooperate, I will create a traffic of well to do customers in Indian Wells. Once I have created the traffic, we will then sell a most profitable product to the customers. I want a memo of understanding, before I reveal my plan.

Tyler thinks about the matter and calls in Juanita Sunnybrook. Juanita is a tall, slim, well educated Indian woman who, I later learn was the second runner up in the state beauty pageant. Juanita is nobody's fool. I go through the third degree. After a bit, Juanita and Tyler confer privately and we write an initial memo of understanding.

I then describe my plan to build a very large, well-stocked liquor store in Indian Wells. The store will have two major metropolitan areas to draw from and, with certain tax advantages of the Indian reservation thing, we can undersell anybody locally. The store will provide a relatively small number of jobs, but will build a traffic flow of well to do people to Indian Wells.

Once we have the traffic flow, we will expand the existing gambling operation.

Juanita points out that the liquor store idea will provide a limited number of jobs. Also, the local Indians have something of a drinking problem.

I point out that we will not sell the rot gut booze that fuels the local drinking problem. While the liquor store will provide only a limited number of jobs, they would be the kind of dealing with the public jobs necessary to train a casino staff.

Tyler and Juanita look at each other, then back at me. I quickly resume, before they can start. "We are not going to start a new gambling operation, just expand the existing operation."

Juanita says, "You mean the card room?" I say, "We will expand the card room to accommodate a high-stakes, once-a-week, night poker tournament. Then we will add a few video poker machines. Little by little, we will have a full scale casino up and running. By the time anyone realizes what is happening, it will have happened. The tribe can rubber stamp the existing operation, as it will be providing numerous decent paying jobs for the tribe."

I can tell I have them on the hook.

Tyler says, "It sounds interesting. We will have to research the numbers. However, I might point out that the card room is under a lease to the present management for almost four years."

I say, "I think they will be leaving within a week."

Tyler leans forward and says, "Rough stuff will not play here."

I tell him smoothly, "There will be no rough stuff. They will leave voluntarily and never come back. You will receive regular federal reports on their whereabouts."

With a provisional OK, I begin the next phase of my plan.

I buy Monica, the card room owner's daughter a drink, to discuss my poker playing plans. I manage to let slip that I have considerable cash money to invest. Loosened by the drink, I even let slip that it is in currency, not bank deposits.

The next night, Monica comes to visit me in my motel room. She is dressed even more like a street hooker than usual. We talk and drink, I become 'overconfident' and show her a fistful of cash. Her eyes glitter like a hunting animal closing in on its prey.

We continue our discussion with Monica on my lap and my hands free to roam. Monica is not wearing a bra, . . . or panties either. Monica is willing to put up with almost anything to continue moving in on my cash.

We move to the bed. I work Monica up, starting with tongue kissing. I unbutton her blouse and began to kiss, suck and lick her tits. Monica begins to moan and beg for it. I continue down her body, discarding her skirt as I go. The moaning increases and she begin to slowly buck her hips. I continue to work on her, using some kung-fu tricks they don't teach in the normal American studio. Monica becomes a raging wild woman. When I finally mount her, it is like riding a bucking bronco. I quickly bring it back to a steady, rhythmic ride. Monica climaxes, then starts right back up the hill again. By the time I cum, she is nearly unconscious.

When I revive her, with a little booze, Monica is my willing sex slave. Why, she will do anything I want, as many times as I want. The secret here gentleman is technique and, of course, the sexy scent of large amounts of currency nearby. For quite a few hours, Monica and I explore a number of interesting sexual positions. At first we use positions, such as doggy style, which require a little effort from Monica. As she wears down, we move to less physically demanding positions.

Monica has considerable experience. She attempts to bring me off quickly. I resist, but not too much. I want to bring Monica to exhaustion, but not to unconsciousness. After the first wild ride, Monica maintains much better control and, in fact, is sometimes faking the orgasms. Because she is not in such good physical condition, I can make her climax at will, using key pressure points and kung-fu techniques.

Each time I take my time and let her gyrations build me to a full climax. When I roll off of Monica, why she cannot wait to start getting me hard again. If I am not in her pussy, why I am in her mouth. It is a night to remember.

After several climaxes, I collapse into a gently snoring sleep. A very tired Monica then manages to shower and slip out the door, with my leather case of counterfeit money. Since I am in very good physical shape, the gently snoring sleep is a bit of a sham and I view the entire thing through narrowly slitted eyes.

In the morning, Monica is gone from Indian Wells. Since Monica is almost completely exhausted by our sex of the night before, she could not reasonably have driven a car. Thus, her no good, deadbeat SOB father is gone with her. Since I had also let slip to Monica that I was a kung-fu black belt, I doubt that they would stop before they had put considerable distance between us. Once they did stop, why they would buy the best of whatever they wanted that was available. For a variety of reasons that would take much too long to describe, they go to Las Vegas. Do not attempt, even once, to spend funny money in Las Vegas. Do not worry about trying a second time; it's hard to spend money from inside a locked cell.

Monica and her father, of course, accuse me of giving Monica the counterfeit. I tell them (butter would not melt in my mouth) that I had never heard of such a thing. I am a respectable, law-abiding citizen. In any case, why would I give Monica money? "Oh, she stole my money! Then, why didn't I report the theft? Then I could file an insurance claim. Right?"

After a couple of days, Tyler Robert breaks the lease on the card room for failure to continue operations. I am awarded a new lease, which Tyler, Juanita and I write. It permits me to conduct the card games which are games of skill in the state within which the Indian reservation is located. Certain other games are also allowed. The wording is a bit vague, but it is the same wording used in other Indian leases which have been through the courts and approved.

My own life savings plus loan money guaranteed by various government agencies puts us in the liquor store business.

Construction starts. All of the elements are in place. It is now just a matter of execution.

Well, actually there is the matter of trust. Juanita Sunnybrook does not completely trust me. Thus, one night Juanita appears at my door. She has talked to Monica. Juanita wants to know exactly what I have done to Monica. I gently pull Juanita to me and tongue kiss her, while unbuttoning her blouse.

I work Juanita up to a shattering mutual climax. She cuddles to me and asks, "She left after all that?"

I say, "Well, I did a bit of this..." I work on some key points. "And this . . . " I work on still more key points, until Juanita is a moaning female animal in heat. I take my time and bring her to two climaxes and then join her for a mutual climax. By morning I have so completely dominated Juanita that I am trapped in a situation from which I have absolutely no motivation to escape.

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