Friendly Game of 7 Card Stud

"Oh. Like those eighty or ninety pairs of shoes?" Darryl asked, swatting her hand away.

"Oh, no sir; I need those," Carla said and nodded to Wayne, letting him know she'd heard his request for another scotch and soda.

"Diet Coke you got it," Reynold asked and opened with a five.

Brian threw a five into the pot. Fred shrugged and did the same.

"Got nothing," Ronald admitted. "Carla, you did say you got diet Coke, right?"

C's wife.

Kimberly had always been the fat kid. Part of it was genetics; her mother and father were both large people. They also taught Kimberly their deplorable eating habits.

By senior year in high school, she weighed almost as much as a Defensive Tackle.

C was popular; he was a running back and was also class president and in the Drama Club. Kimberly, and her two closest friends, Chelsea and Trudy sat at the 'fat kids' table and pined over C and his friends.

Then C did the unthinkable. He walked from the table of the gods and approached the fat kids table.

"Hey Kimberly; how's it going?" the blonde haired, blue eyed boy smiled.

"Uh," she managed to squeak.

"Listen, the Sports Banquet is this Saturday; Stevarino said he was thinking about asking you so I figured I'd better beat him to it and ask you," C said.

"Uh," Kimberly squeaked again.

Because it was not as formal as a Prom, a nice dress and a sports coat and tie was the dress for the evening. Kimberly and her mother did get out the hot curlers, did curl Kimberly's long brown hair.

C noticed, complimented her on how nice she looked. C spoke with her parents, did tell them that he'd been accepted to Harvester's College on a partial scholarship. Then he escorted Kimberly out to his 1989 Mustang.

At the banquet, C proudly sat with her at a table with a few of his friends and their dates. Kimberly had nothing in common with the bone thin cheerleader to her left; the girl didn't even remember Kimberly's name. But C held her hand, talked with her, peering into her clear blue eyes.

After the meal, after the awards were handed out, the tables were moved and the DJ began playing music.

"Damn, get down, girl!" C encouraged as Kimberly waddled and wobbled around.

Some kids laughed at her, but as long as C smiled at her, Kimberly didn't care.

Then he kissed her.

"Mr. C, Miss Svornac, that will be enough," Coach Dalton barked.

"Sorry, didn't mean to get you in trouble," C whispered.

"Get me in trouble," Kimberly enthused.

C laughed, a genuine laugh. They danced a few more songs, then C went around, told his buddies they were leaving, and pulled Kimberly to the door.

He did 'get her in trouble' and kissed her at every red light. Then, he pulled up to her house.

"Listen, I uh, I'm really glad you came with me to this stupid thing," C said. "I uh, hey, tomorrow? You ever been sailing?"

He took her out on his parents' boat and put his arm around her and kissed her.

Then he dropped anchor and showed her how to suck his cock. He returned the favor and Kimberly made him laugh when she gasped that it was a wonder that people had any kids at all.

"As good as that was?" she gasped, then groaned as he used his fingers to coax another orgasm from her very hairy pussy.

Their next date, C did show Kimberly why people had kids. He had three condoms with him and they used all three condoms.

"So, C, why?" Kimberly finally asked a few months after their first date.

"Why what?" C asked, catching his breath after another energetic bout of baby making.

By now, he'd wisely bought a twelve pack of condoms.

"Why are you fucking the fat girl?" Kimberly asked bitterly.

"Because," he said gently, kissing her. "The fat girl has the most beautiful eyes in the world. The fat girl has the most amazing smile ever."

"I love you so much," she sobbed as he held her.

He went to Harvester's on his partial scholarship. In C's first year, there was talk of him going to the Pros. In the sixth game of C's sophomore year, even though C did not have the ball, a cornerback came across and tackled him, driving C's knees sideways.

Kimberly screamed and shoved players and coaches aside, trying to get to C.

"Baby, it's going to be all right," he assured her as they loaded him onto the gurney. "As long as I have you, it's going to be all right."

C switched his major from Underwater Basket weaving to Education, with a minor in Athletics. Just after graduation, he and Kimberly married.

Kimberly had gone on a severe diet and exercise program and had managed to whittle her five foot seven inch body down to a hundred and forty pounds. Whenever she needed a little 'pick me up' she would look at their wedding photographs, at her in her wedding dress.

C always told her how beautiful she was, but he had told her that when she was two hundred and seventy pounds, and two hundred pounds, and a hundred and ninety pounds.

Twelve years later, a high school girl, disgruntled over being benched for unsportsmanlike conduct, filed an allegation that C had tried to grope her.

Kimberly did not believe any of the allegations, even when the girl managed to talk two of her teammates to back up her story. She did worry, however, about C's career.

"Baby, it'll be all right," C smiled and kissed her. "As long as I have you, it'll be all right."

On the witness stand, one girl slipped up in her testimony, then the other girl blurted out that the original girl had pressured her into saying C had groped them and made them fondle his penis.

C's name was cleared, but his reputation was not. C had a hard time finding work, until Mr. Z came along and hired him to work at his alma mater.

During C's lengthy bout of unemployment, Kimberly stuffed her fears and anxieties with Oreo cookies, Twister doughnuts, and Benny's Burger Bar. She ballooned to nearly two hundred pounds again and hated herself for each pound.

Mr. Z assured her she was still an attractive woman, a desirable woman, and fucked her, bent over her kitchen counter. He slapped her ample backside hard as he pounded her.

That night, C commented on how reddened her buttocks looked.

"Yeah, slipped and sat on my big fat ass," Kimberly laughed.

But she refused to open the door the next time Mr. Z knocked on the door.

7 Card Stud.

Reynold again won and there was good natured grumbling and half-hearted accusations of cheating. He just smiled and shook his head.

Darryl shuffled the cards and dealt. Overhead, Carla marched back and forth.

"Said she's getting rid of some stuff? Sounds like she's getting rid of a lot of stuff," Fred commented. "Damn, Darryl, you take lessons in how to deal shit?"

"So, this kid?" Brian asked.

"Huh? Oh, oh yeah, see I uncovered that this teacher or professor's a serial cheater," Reynold said. "It's almost a compulsion for him. He sees pussy..."

"Hey, hey," Wayne protested.

"Sorry," Reynold said. "He sees a woman, it's like he has to try to get them in bed."

He raised his ante to fifteen dollars.

"And because he's a sociopath, he figures out women's weaknesses, their vulnerabilities and uses them against them. Guy's really a sick puppy," Reynold said and smiled when Darryl again raised the ante.

"So, this girl?" Brian again asked.

"Well, we go to trial in a week, next Thursday and I plan to show that this son of a..." Reynold said, then smiled when Wayne glared at him. "...biscuit is the root of this girl's problems. The Dean has already indicated he may be willing to eradicate this semester; it never happened, and let her start again next semester."

"Oh, well, that's good," Brian said.

Y's wife.

Melinda Johnson met Y when he came in to her coffee shop for coffee.

"Uh, a medium, God, I love your hair, is that real? No, no, I mean, I know it's real, but is that your real color?" Y asked.

"A cup of red hair?" Melinda smiled. "That's what you want?"

"No, I want a medium cup of Dark Roast," Y laughed.

"Only if I can have your phone number," Melinda brazenly said, freckles obscured by her blush.

"Wow, I mean, um, that's very flattering," Y said, taken aback.

He leaned close to the girl.

"But I uh, I'm probably old enough to be your dad," he said. "I mean, I'm forty six; you got to be what? No more than..."

"I'm twenty," she blurted out.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Just when Melinda was about to start apologizing, Y pulled out a business card and handed it to her.

"Cells' on the bottom," he said. "NOW can I have my coffee?"

He sat down at a table and began looking over the scheduled tryouts. His cell phone buzzed and he pulled it out.

"Y here," he said.

"I get off in twenty minutes; you like Korean? There's this really great Korean place two blocks away," a female voice said.

Y looked at the counter and Melinda waved to him, her cell phone against her ear. He smiled and nodded.

"I'll wait for you," he promised.

"I been waiting my whole life for you," Melinda confessed.

Melinda went into the back to clock out and told her best friend, "I just met my husband, girlfriend."

A year later, at the engagement party for Melinda and Y, Melinda's best friend met Mr. Z

At the wedding reception of Y and Melinda, Mr. Z proposed marriage to the girl.

"You better, you better be sure you mean this I'm going say 'yes' to you," the brunette looked at him. "I've heard about you; you a player. I say 'yes' them playing days better be over, hear?"

"I promise; the only reason I was ever a player was because I was looking all over for you," Mr. Z assured the twenty one year old girl.

A year after Mr. Z married the girl, Melinda told her that Mr. Z had said to her, "I heard red heads are wild fucks. That true? I mean, it must be true, most of y'all are so fucking ugly, what with all those disgusting freckles, spots all over the place, y'all got to be some wild fucks, right?"

"Plays right into my insecurities," Melinda sobbed bitterly. "God damn, I know I'm not as beautiful as Y is; why would such a gorgeous man be with me? But..."

"Did you? Did you fuck him?" her best friend asked tearfully.

"What?" Melinda shrieked. "No! Slapped him right in the face, told him better get the fuck on out of here!"

7 Card Stud.

Again, a smirking Darryl raised the ante to their limit. With a smile, Reynold did the same.

"Guys, y'all mind I go over the limit?" Darryl demanded as Fred, Wayne, and Ronald bowed out.

"Yeah I mind," Brian said.

"How high we talking?" Reynolds asked, smiling.

"Two hundred," Darryl said.

"I'm out," Brian admitted.

"Only two hundred? Reynold taunted.

"Five," Darryl said.

"Okay," Reynold shrugged, counted out the bills, added a couple of one hundred dollar bills from his wallet and waited.

"How much, I thought you guys only were supposed to go one hundred," Carla commented as Darryl also put a few one hundred dollar bills into the pot.

"Must have a hell of a hand," Fred said to her.

"Let's see them, Richards," Reynold said.

"Full house," Darryl smiled, showing them two nines and three Queens.

"What? I went out and you only had a full house?" Brian sputtered.

"Good thing you did," Reynold assured Brian.

Reynold had the ten of clubs, the Jack of clubs and the ace of clubs showing. He smiled as he turned over the King and Queen of clubs.

"I believe that beats a full house, Richards," he said.

"I'm ready," Carla said to Reynold Reynolds.

"Oh, okay," Reynold said, picking up his briefcase.

Reynold opened the briefcase. He turned to Fred.

"Fred Anderson? I'm real sorry about Corrine's suicide. It really isn't her fault. Seems our mutual friend figured out, because of the abuse she suffered as a kid? She was a true submissive."

Reynold placed an envelope in front of the ashen faced man.

"The guilt ate her up," Reynold said. "Wayne Barone?"

"Yeah, yeah, everybody loves Raymond," Wayne smiled tightly.

"Know what you mean," Reynold smiled tightly. "Went all through high school being Reynold's Wrap."

"Why I go by my middle name," Brian admitted. "First name's Harvey."

"Middle name's Xavier; it's a family name," Reynold said. "Wayne? Here."

He placed a thick envelope in front of the pear shaped man.

"Your wife? Man, I've got pictures of nine men going in your house, including our mutual friend. And you might want to check the DNA of Charlotte and Danielle too," he said.

Placing an envelope in front of Ronald Carter, Reynold shook his head.

"Ronald Carter? It was just that one time; she was feeling down about her weight gain," he said. "Personally, I wouldn't look at the pictures; I'd just see about counseling for y'all."

"There better not be an envelope in there for me," Brian said, voice shaking.

"Brian Yates? You kidding? Your wife told our mutual friend to take a long walk off a short pier," Reynold said. "Darryl Richards?"

"You fucking bitch!" Darryl yelled at Carla. "You fucking cheated? On me? You fucking..."

"Darryl Zebadiah Richards, you've been served," Reynold Reynolds said, handing the enraged man two envelopes.

"I've been what?" Darryl shouted.

"I told you," Carla screamed at her husband. "I told you, you better be sure; I wasn't marrying a God damned player."

She slapped Darryl with all her might. It left a hand print on his face.

"My best friend! Or did you forget that?" she screamed.

"First one's a petition for divorce. The other one is a subpoena to appear in court," Reynold said as he put his night's winnings into his briefcase.

"I've got all your shit packed; you better see which one of your whores will let you stay at their house because you don't live here anymore!" Carla screamed again.

"Okay, Cousin, gentlemen, good night," Reynold Reynolds said.

"You mother fucker!" Darryl screamed and lunged at the man.

Reynold's briefcase caught Darryl in the family jewels and a solid punch knocked Darryl to the floor.

"You don't spend all them years in the P.I. business to let some punk ass fucking cheater get the drop on you," Reynold sneered at the grunting man.

Bowling Night.

League night at the bowling alley was loud, filled with the twelve teams. Brian, Fred, and Ronald applauded for a team member that managed to get a spare.

"How's Kimberly?" Fred asked.

"As beautiful as ever," Ronald smiled. "Taking them yoga classes and..."

He leaned close to his friends.

"Can just about put her feet behind her head," he leered.

"Aw, your ass, Carter, shut up!" Brian laughed.

"Wayne said his annulment's just about a sure thing," Fred commented before getting to his feet.

"Yep; said she can keep the house," Brian said.

"And the mortgage," Fred agreed. "Eighteen hundred a month. Man!"

He managed to get five pins down, then only knocked down one pin in the next attempt.

"Bowling's not your thing?" Ronald teased as he passed Fred.

"Bite me, Carter," Fred laughed.

"Have to find it first, Anderson," Ronald smiled.

When Ronald managed to only get seven pins, he laughed.

"Say it, bitch, and I'll punch you in the head," he threatened Fred.

"Okay, then I'll say it," Brian said. "Dude, you suck."

"Whatever, Harvey," Ronald said, slapping Brian on his buttock as they passed each other.

"Uh, anyone, anyone know what happened to Darryl?" Fred asked after Brian missed a seven ten split.

"Nope, disappeared after Harvester's fired his ass," Ronald said.

"Yeah, I mean, there's no real rules against sleeping with any student, but it's kind of an unwritten rule, you know?" Brian agreed. "Especially a freshman, huh? Kid was only what? Eighteen?"

"She's a real sweet kid too," Fred agreed. "Got her in my Early Colonial English class."

"Smart girl too; tested out of Algebra one oh one class and aced Statistics one fifteen, no problem," Ronald agreed.

"Divorce was quick," Fred said.

"Carla got everything, I mean, everything," Brian smiled widely.

Fred got to his feet after their teammate managed to knock down all but one pin.

"Ass hole sat there and told her 'can't get blood from a turnip,'" Brian said, imitating Darryl's southern accent.

"And she said, 'unless that turnip's got two safe deposit boxes and a four oh one K,'" Ronald laughed.

A loud whoop was heard from three lanes over. The three friends looked over to see Carla and Melinda giving each other high fives.

"Fred, you ought to ask her out," Brian cajoled.

"Yeah, Fred," Ronald agreed. "I mean, shit, you know Aunt Kimberly and I'll baby sit anytime you ask."

"What? Come on you guys, what? She's how old?" Fred protested.

Same age as Melinda. "And you'll never strike out unless you get up to bat," Brian encouraged.

After the games were finished, the five friends met at the door. Carla and Melinda looked on with interest as Brian and Ronald nudged Fred.

"Uh, I mean, hi Carla, I uh," Fred stammered, face glowing.

"Go to House Of Mei with you tomorrow night? Brian and Melinda are always saying how great it is; when you picking me up?" Carla asked.

Even as nervous as he was, Fred laughed when Melinda whispered loudly, "Carla Ann Xavier! You're supposed to play hard to get."

THE END.

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I do thank you for reading my stories.

I especially thank those that take the time to rate my stories and leave comments.

Have a super swell day.