Reversal of Fortune

Culture shock rattles a white family moving to a black neighborhood.

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Making the Move

A loud shout of "Oh shit!" echoed through the Budget rental truck, backed into the gravel driveway of a modest 50-year-old house. The outburst caused Stanley Winfield to scold his teenage daughter, responsible for the profanity.

"Erica!" Stan bellowed, "You know that we don't use that kind of language in this family! You might have turned 18 last week, but that doesn't mean that you're going to have a potty mouth around here!"

Erica was apologetic. "I'm sorry, Daddy, but somebody didn't tape the bottom of this box and now there's kitchen shi-, I mean stuff, all over the truck."

"Okay," Stan said, softening his tone, "I'll help you pick it up."

"Daddy, why couldn't we just hire a moving company?"

Stan shook his head and sighed. "Because, Erica, we couldn't afford to hire movers. We could barely afford to rent this truck."

Stan and Erica gathered the forks, spoons, and kitchen gadgets strewn across the floor of the truck while their wife and mother, respectively, carried more of their belongings into the house.

Mrs. Stan Winfield was otherwise known as Alexa. Even covered with sweat and grime from helping with the move, Alexa still exuded natural grace and beauty as she trod from the truck to the house and back again. She looked 10 years younger than her 38 years, thanks in no small part to the spa regimen that she had followed since Erica's birth. Her breasts were the envy of other women and the eye candy of men everywhere. For $15-thousand, one of the top plastic surgeons in North America had crafted Alexa's stunning rack two years earlier after the image-conscious beauty noticed the first sign of sagging.

"Let's take a 10-minute break," Stan suggested as he sat down on the back of the truck. Wife Alexa joined him while daughter Erica went inside the old house that was to be their new home.

While he and his wife sat together, Stan pondered the current situation. To say that the Winfield family had experienced a recent "reversal of fortune" would be a gross understatement.

After a minute, Alexa asked Stan, straight out, why he had decided to move them into that particular neighborhood.

"It's where I grew up. I know the area, or I thought I did, and it's affordable. It's a place for us to make a new start, Honey. Plus, my cousin is giving me a job here."

Alexa quickly inserted, "But it's a black neighborhood! For the past two hours, everybody that I've seen on this street has been black, except for one white woman, and she was with a black man."

Stan became defensive. "When I was growing up here, it was a white neighborhood with a few blacks. Now, I guess it's become a black neighborhood with a few whites. I didn't know it changed. The real estate lady didn't mention it either, but I don't think they're allowed to."

Stan continued. "You know my probation officer wouldn't let us move here unless we had a place to stay, so I had to rent the first thing I could find. And I'm lucky that my cousin is letting me work at his used car lot downtown. I couldn't get a job anywhere else."

The couple sat quietly, then Stan wrapped an arm around Alexa and he spoke more.

"A year ago, we had that big beach house on the ocean and a two-story cabin in the mountains," Stan nostalgically recalled. "We had almost $20 million in the bank, with more rolling in every day. My job was to make money and yours was to spend it. Who would have ever guessed? First the raid at our house, when those U.S. Marshals woke us up with their guns in our faces..."

Alexa interrupted. "And I was sleeping naked and those feds wouldn't let me get dressed because they wanted to gawk at my big boobs with my hands cuffed behind my back!"

Stan and Alexa shared a quick laugh, then turned serious again. Stan continued, "When they did let us get dressed, they threw us both in jail."

Stan went on to tell his wife, for about the hundredth time, how stupid he felt for partnering with a conman who promised to make him far wealthier than he already was. Stan did not realize that his new partner was running an illegal Ponzi scheme, stealing all of his money and millions more from other victims of the scam. Because Alexa was listed as a principal in the enterprise she was arrested along with her husband. But federal prosecutors dropped the charges against Alexa when they realized she was innocent, and she only spent a week in jail. Stan was locked up behind bars for three months, until he agreed to testify against his former partner, and to serve 10 years' probation, essentially prohibiting him from running his own business again for the next decade.

On top of all that, Stan had to make financial restitution and forfeit everything that he owned, except for his family's clothes and some other personal possessions of no great value.

"Well, no point crying over spilled milk," Stan declared as he stepped down from the truck and offered his wife a hand. "We've done enough crying. Now we have to suck it up and make the best of it. I know we're not in a good place right now, but maybe God, or fate, or karma, or whatever, has put us here for a reason."

Alexa gave her husband a hug and tried to keep a stiff upper lip. "You're right -- we will make the best of it. I'm sure we'll be okay, but I'm a little concerned about Erica. She's lived a sheltered life, so far. I've heard that black boys like to go after white girls and I don't know how she would handle that."

Alexa had just given Stan something new to worry about. It was obvious in his expression, but he put on a happy face and enthusiastically announced, "Well, this truck won't unload itself, so let's finish up and get it over to the rental yard before we have to pay a late penalty."

Christening the new bedroom

Stan, Alexa and Erica all wanted to take showers as soon as they finished unloading and returning the truck. In the mansion they had previously occupied, each of them had their own luxurious bathroom, but the little crackerbox that was now their home had only one bath, and the water heater was small. Stan let his wife and daughter get their showers first and found no hot water when his turn came.

Because it was an unnecessary expense, the family had no cable TV. Stan twisted two wire coat hangers together to create a makeshift antenna and did manage to pull in two nearby broadcast stations. Sitting on the couch,

watching the only TV programs she could access, Erica started feeling totally sorry for herself and she broke out in tears.

"I hate this place!" Erica sobbed. "I don't know anyone. There's nothing to do. My old friends back home won't even answer my calls or texts. It's like I'm the criminal, not you two! I'm totally fucked!"

"Erica!" Stan barked, "Watch your language! It's not acceptable!"

Huddling close to her, Stan and Erica consoled their daughter, telling her that life was bound to get better and that it would not be long before she was happy again.

"I hope so," Erica said as she kissed her parents "good night" and went off to sleep for the first time in her tiny new bedroom.

A half-hour later, Alexa nestled closer to Stan on the couch, and with a sly smile, she said, "I've already put clean sheets on the bed. Why don't we Christen our new home?"

As Alexa had expected, Stan wanted to beg off.

"Not tonight, Alexa. I'm really tired from moving everything and I'm just not exactly in the mood."

"I'm tired too," Alexa said. "I'm sure we'll both be sore tomorrow from all the bending and lifting, but it's our first night in our new place. Like you said, it's a new beginning. It'll be good luck. I know with all the worrying about being in jail, and maybe going to prison, and how we need to pick up the pieces after losing everything we had, you haven't exactly been 'on your game' in the bedroom, but I need some loving really bad, and you're just the man to give it to me!"

Stan nodded his head, silently accepting what his wife had said and agreeing to give lovemaking a try. Alexa was right about all the stress making it hard for Stan to perform. But, even on their honeymoon 20 years earlier, he was never a stellar performer. Still, Stan's current dysfunction was more deeply rooted than Alexa realized.

As mentioned previously, Stan had recently spent 90 days, and 90 nights, in jail. It was a very unpleasant time for him. He was one of the few white people incarcerated in a jail crammed with black men. Stan had never had any homosexual leanings. In fact, he sometimes made fun of gay guys. But, after being slapped senseless during his first hours in lock-up, he changed his attitude. By the end of his first week, Stan was quite

skilled at sucking big black cocks, and by the end of his 12^th week in custody, he was quite content to be a sissy cum-guzzling cocksucker.

Released from jail and reunited with his beautiful wife, Stan found his sexual appetite and libido had gone haywire. Sometimes he would get a morning woodie or some other spontaneous hard-on, but to maintain an erection he often had to secretly fantasize about the dozens of times that he filled his mouth with a black cock. Even then, it did not work every time.

That night, together in their new bedroom for the first time, Stan and Alexa embraced and kissed. Alexa took the lead and smiled as she undressed her man, pulling his shirt off over his head, then pushing him onto the bed and loosening his belt so she could slide his pants off. Being especially playful, Alexa bit her husband's underwear with her teeth and giggled as she pulled them down.

Alexa then did a slow strip tease as she took her own clothes off. Because Stan had always loved her enhanced breasts, Alexa left her bra on, hoping that Stan would assault her titties during their lovemaking. It worked.

After a couple minutes of French kissing, Stan complained that Alexa's bra was in his way, and he very theatrically reached around her, unhooked the straps, slowly pulled it away from her amazing boobs, and flung it like a Frisbee across the small room.

Stan drew one of Alexa's stiff nipples into his mouth, sucking it hard, while he diddled her other nip with his fingers. Alexa began to moan loudly.

"Shhhhhhh!" Stan hushed her with a finger over his pursed lips. "Erica's in the next room and the walls in this old place are paper thin."

At first Alexa tried to stifle her moans as Stan continued to attack her tits, but then she began to get loud again. It was as if some latent exhibitionist tendency in her had been awakened. She slipped three fingers into her pussy -- which was dripping wet -- and confirmed for herself that she was becoming turned-on at the thought of her now-grown daughter hearing her receive sexual pleasure. Alexa aroused herself further when she imagined herself shouting, "Hey Erica! Do you hear what's going on?! Your mother is getting fucked in here!"

Alexa never did her imaginary shout-out to Erica, but just the thought made her smile.

After sucking both nipples at length, Stan returned to Alexa's face, and resumed kissing her. The husband and wife plunged their tongues into each other's mouths and let their hands run wild. Stan rubbed his hand on Alexa's pussy, feeling how wet and smooth it was. He kissed her again and smiled with their faces inches apart. "You shaved for me. Nice," he said.

Alexa giggled and rubbed the scruffy whiskers on Stan's cheek. "You didn't shave for me," Alexa said, pretending to pout, "but I'm going to let you fuck me anyway!"

After saying that, Alexa ran her hand down to double-check her husband's erection. She wrapped her hand around his dick and happily discovered that he was stiff as a board. Not knowing how long Stan's stiffy would last, Alexa wiggled into position on her back with her legs spread wide apart. Stan wasted no time either, knowing that his dick had not been too dependable lately. He effortlessly pushed it into Alexa's welcoming hole.

"Ohhh, that feels so good!" Stan moaned.

"Oh fuck yes!" Alexa responded. She was never one to use foul language, except during sex. But, when her pussy was on fire she could cuss up a storm.

"Oh Stan, fuck me! Fuck my pussy! You don't know how much I need to be fucked!

Stan slammed Alexa as hard as he could, given what he had to work with. At least it was hard, and it felt pretty damned good to both the husband and wife.

After a couple minutes of pumping, Stan began to fret about whether he would be able to finish with orgasms for both him and Alexa. The fretting was having a negative effect and Stan could feel it in his waning dick. He quickly shifted his thoughts to the jailhouse, where he was used as a sex toy by nasty black men more virile and powerful than he ever was. Those perverted thoughts proved to be rejuvenating and Stan picked up his pace.

"Oh fuck, Stan, I'm going to cum!" Alexa screamed. "Oh god! Fuck me! I'm cumming! I'm fucking cumming! Ooooooooh! Ooooooooh! Ooooooooh!

As Alexa climaxed so did Stan, squirting a decent dose of semen into his woman. They both collapsed, still pressed together, and gently kissed each other.

"That was great. The best we've had in a long time," Alexa said through her grateful smile. "We needed this so much. Maybe this little old house really can bring us luck. I'm happier right now than I've been in a long time."

Stan was happy too. It had been a while since he'd had mutually rewarding relations with his wife. He did not like having to resurrect submissive memories to do the deed, but the end result was nice. Without bothering to dress in any night clothes, Alexa and Stan snuggled together and drifted off to sleep.

In the adjoining bedroom, Erica curled up in her bed to sleep as well. She had just spent most of the last hour with her ear pressed against wall, hearing every peep and fingering herself to a nice orgasm while listening to her mother and father fuck.

Invitation to socialize.

Over the course of the next week, Alexa, Stan and Erica settled into their new routine in their "new old" home. Stan sold four used cars at his cousin's lot and Alexa got a part-time job at McDonald's. The McDonald's uniform was definitely not her style, but Alexa put it on and wore it without complaint whenever she had to work a shift. At least their mundane occupations kept them busy during the day.

Erica was to be a senior at her new high school, but since it was summer there was no school. She was totally bored and spent her days lying on the couch, watching TV, and surfing the internet.

One weekday, when Stan got home from work, Alexa followed him into their bedroom as he went to change clothes and she shared a bit of news.

"I met the people next door," Alexa casually mentioned. "They seem nice enough, but they're not exactly our kind of people."

Stan was bemused. "Not our kind of people? Now what does that mean?"

Alexa dramatically rolled her eyes and said, "You'll see what I mean," then she expanded on her answer. "The wife's name is Pam. She's white, and about my age, but I think she looks older. You can tell she hasn't had any work done (Alexa circled her face with her finger). She's a skinny blue-eyed blonde, and even though she's got some hard miles on her, you'll probably think she's pretty. She's got quite a few tattoos, she swears like a sailor and she smokes like a chimney. From what she said, she likes to drink and smoke a little weed too. Oh, and they have one son, a boy named Travis who's Erica's age."

Stan laughed and said, "Well, that's quite a run-down on the lady of the house. What about her husband?"

Alexa answered, "I didn't notice much about him, except that he's big and black. I mean pitch black. His name is Wiley and he's not legally Pam's husband. But they've lived together for 20 years, and he's her baby-daddy, as she puts it, so they consider themselves 'married'."

Stan shook his head in amusement and sarcastically stated, "Well, the neighbors sound like a couple of real winners. But, we can be polite and just keep to ourselves. I guess I'll have to say 'hi' at some point."

"Oh, you'll get to say 'hi' Saturday afternoon," Alexa stated. "Pam invited us to a pool party at their place."

Stan looked surprised. "They have a swimming pool on the other side of that falling-down fence? A pool, in this neighborhood?" Stan smiled when he added, "I guess we're hooking up with some pretty highfalutin folks around here!"

Pool Party

On Saturday afternoon, Alexa reminded her husband and daughter that they had a social engagement to attend, in their neighbors' backyard. They each put on their bathing suits. When Alexa exited the bedroom wearing hers, Stan did a double take.

"Wow, Alexa, that bikini is pretty skimpy and it makes your breasts look enormous. I'm not complaining, but don't you have something a little less 'showy' to wear?"

"No Stan, I don't. Remember when I got my boob job, and you picked out this bikini, and you told me to throw out all my other bathing suits? Well, I did and now this bikini is all that I have. Besides, I get the impression that Pam and Wiley are pretty laid back and fun-loving, so they'll probably like my look. I have a cover-up to wear when we're not in the water."

Alexa, Erica and Stan knocked on their neighbors' door and were warmly greeted. The two ladies followed Pam into her kitchen. As Pam lit a cigarette, she held her pack out to Erica, offering one to the teenager. Erica frowned and waved off the offer, saying that she did not smoke.

Pam laughed and said, "Oh shit, another goody-goody like your mother! Well, I'm going to have to corrupt you two if you're going to live next door to me!" All three of them laughed at that.

Meanwhile, Wiley led Stan out the back door so that he could show off his swimming pool. It was an above-ground type, round and about four feet deep. The pool was half-surrounded by a crudely constructed wooden deck. Wiley handed Stan a beer from his ice cooler and boasted that the pool and deck cost him nothing because he and his son, Travis, disassembled it and took it from a foreclosed house kitty-corner to their place.

While Stan and Wiley sipped their beers, the back door swung open and Pam, Alexa and Erica walked out carrying watermelon, chips and dip. Right behind them, Travis sauntered out dressed only in his swim trunks. Pam introduced Travis to everyone. Erica, who had never seen Travis before, was impressed with the young man's muscular physique, and she was taken a bit by his burnt caramel complexion and his big, curly head of Afro hair. She had never associated with anyone who was not 100-percent Caucasian, but she wondered to herself whether Travis was someone that she might enjoy hanging out with.

"Everybody in the pool!" Wiley happily shouted.

As soon as Alexa removed her cover-up, revealing her tiny bikini, Pam erupted with "Would you look at those fucking tits! Holy shit, girl! Those can't be real!"

"Who cares if they're real?!" Wiley declared as Alexa blushed a deep red. "You're a lucky man, Stan, having those big old titties to play with every night!"

"Now don't you get any fucking ideas, Wiley!" Pam loudly cautioned. "You touch those puppies today and you won't get any pussy for a week!"

Pam, Wiley, and Travis doubled over, laughing. Stan, Alexa and Erica were simply stunned.

Everyone splashed around in the pool, laughing and talking -- just having fun as they got better acquainted. After about an hour, Pam announced that she was leaving the water to smoke a cigarette. Stan said he had to use the bathroom. Wiley told Stan to just step behind the big bushes between the fence and the house. After relieving himself, Stan grabbed another beer and sat in one of the white plastic chairs on the wood deck, next to Pam. Erica, Alexa, Travis and Wiley splashed them occasionally as they continued to frolic in the shallow pool.