Blood Wild - Sex Stories

Blood Wild

... counting his teeth. Satisfied they were all there, he took another sip of the coffee.

“No. The card game was civil enough. Sure, there were some pissed off assholes when they lost some money but no fights or anything. It was after the game that things got shitty. Darrel and Henry had already gone home, a little lighter than when they had got there too.” Hank said with a pained grin.

“And after the game was over?” Gerald nudged verbally hoping to get this over with sooner rather than later. He was tired and this excuse for coffee was more like battery acid on his already fitful stomach.

Hank set his coffee mug down and leaned back again in his chair and ran one hand over his face resignedly. Leaning back forward again to put his elbows on the table top and clasp his hand around his coffee mug, he looked up at Gerald and asked.

“Got any more cigarettes? I need a smoke.”

Gerald reached for his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboros and extracted a cigarette for himself before tossing the pack across the table. From another pocket he produced his old zippo lighter that he had purchased when he was a green recruit in the Army many years ago. He lit first his cigarette then extended his arm across the table for Hank to lean in and light his smoke as well. When they both settled back and took a long draw of their cigarettes, Gerald looked his old friend in the face and raised one eyebrow again in an unspoken signal to continue with his ...

... story.

***___***___

Vivian had watched these little gatherings for years. An excuse for grown men to get together and get drunk and tell their tall tales and brag about their exploits. Oh sure, they’d play cards and gamble and win and lose. More often than not however, her Walter would lose. He was not very skilled or talented in most things in life, particularly at playing poker. It didn’t help that he drank more than he should. It was as if he were competing in a stupidity contest and was determined to win at all costs. Well tonight he was winning… at the stupidity anyway.

Walt was a good man, generally speaking. He was a loving father and a good provider most of the time, but when he got to drinking and especially when he was in the company of Hank Lipscomb and Duke Simmons it was as if he lost his senses. His senses, or at least his common sense anyway. The more he drank the stupider he got, and the stupider he got, the more money he would lose.

Hank had always been fond of Vivian, he had dated her briefly back when they were all in school together, a lifetime ago it seemed. Vivian had taken a shine to Walter and the rest is history. Mostly. She would still flirt with the rest of the guys now and then and Hank had to wonder if there was more to it than that. Duke never seemed to worry or think about such things though.

Duke Simmons was the undisputed playboy of the crowd. He was and always had been a lady killer. He could sweet talk a nun out of her habit and into his bed they ...