Black Man One Ch. 07

With the holiday weekend finally over, the white husbands all returned to our regular work schedules.

Our wives returned to their daily routines, which included mostly things like aerobics classes, swimming, shopping and various social events. Only 2 of the 13 white wives at the condo had so-called "careers" around this time. None of them had been living here more than 2 years.

Karen was presently managing a small clinic nearby, which was a far cry from her nursing administrator position a few years back. Tammy was a 2nd grade teacher who was out of work for the summer, a former English Professor who had left a large university on the east coast.

Both of these women accepted these lower level positions just to "keep themselves busy" when they moved to Arizona. Both seemed to be contemplating other career and life opportunities as well.

The remaining 11 wives, including my own, were unemployed by choice. Basically, they were here being supportive of their husband's more successful and lucrative careers. They were trying to live "the good life" we had coaxed them into.

Still, all 13 of the white wives in this private condo community were exceptionally educated. They were all very beautiful younger white women in their early 30's to early 40's.

For the husbands, we knew that it was our own doing.

We had convinced our pretty young wives to come to Arizona and live more of this "good life." We filled our younger wives' heads with promise after promise, and lie after lie about our masculinity. We lavished them with the best of the best of everything, and we worshipped the ground they walked upon. We treated them like queens.

Yes, they were "trophy wives" at this particular time in their lives. But, they had so much more going for them before they met their successful husbands.

My wife, Julie, was perhaps the least "formally-educated" woman of the bunch. But, she was just as smart and socially-gifted. She was also the most beautiful woman in the condo building.

I had learned most of this information in the first 2 months of our relocation, and even more over the holiday weekend.

Only two of the oldest couples had one child each, but they were teenagers off in college when they made the decision to move here. Coincidentally, the other couples were like Julie and I, and had no children.

Nevertheless, the weekend was over and going back to work caused a huge amount of insecurity in me. I wondered if that black man would be around during the day while I was off promoting my own career at the office. Frequently, I would call Julie to ask her how her day was going, and what she had done. I continued asking her these questions with greater interest, all in the hopes that her responses would make me feel less insecure.

My calls to her went from twice a day to six calls a day the first week back, and even more so after that.

The mere presence of this black stud being in our little community sent an uneasy feeling running through my entire body. As far as I knew, Julie didn't suspect how insecure I had become at this time. But, I was.

By the end of the shortened, post-holiday work week I was on edge. By the second week, my concerns grew as I began to see the young, black man and his white female companions even more.

My eyes "shyed" away from his when I saw him walking out to his Bentley, or when I noticed him out by the pool casually wearing the hideous little bikini suits he seemed so fond of.

Tra'mon seemed to "cycle" through 4 of the 7 white women I had actually seen him with during that first July 4th weekend.

These 4 women were the three blonde women and one of the red-haired woman that appeared to be the most financially well off.

I had not seen any of the other 3 women for those first two weeks. Not yet. But, I would see the aforementioned four white women all the time.

Like clockwork, it seemed that every morning when I walked out into the parking lot to begin my commute, one of them was there. Or, they would appear suddenly. Astonishingly, every single time one of these 4 white women was walking out to their own car looking absolutely "devastated" and "used."

Their appearance in the parking lot at exactly 6:10 a.m. every morning surprised me. It was curious how they all seemed to be leaving at precisely the same time that I needed to start my drive. Even more curious was the fact that they were usually half dressed or sloppily dressed, almost as if they had been "rushed" out of condo unit number one.

Seeing one of them at 6:10 a.m. every morning went on for a full two weeks before. Then, I began to "also" see one of them when I returned home from work, which was at 4:45 p.m.

"Geezuz. What the hell? My timing is terrible. I don't want to see this." I thought.

For some unknown reason, I would see one of these 4 beautiful white women getting out of their cars and walking to our building the moment I returned home. At 4:45 in the afternoon these white women would be dressed pristinely, in dresses or skirts and high heels. Their hair was well done and they always looked so quiet as they carried bags or boxes, or both, from what seemed like a day of shopping.

Despite their somber moods and their eyes often looking down to the pavement as they approached the building, these women looked so classy, polished and angelic.

But, early the next morning they looked completely the opposite.

Every time, and without fail, they all would appear looking ridiculously run down and used. Their hair was a total mess, their faces noticeably red and flushed as they tried to hide their eyes. Their overall appearance was absolutely humilating to see. It couldn't have been more obvious that they had been fucked and used roughly by the young, black stud the night before.

These afternoon and early morning observations of Tra'mon's white women continued for the next few weeks, even when I tried leaving for work a little earlier or later to avoid it. There wasn't a day that went by that these sightings didn't occur. Not even one.

It began to cross my mind that this young stud was actually "rubbing my nose in it," so to speak, and intentionally showing off what what bothering me the most. It was possible he was pruposely showing me what he was doing with his white female companions.

By mid August, I was beginning to feel even more intimidated by him. I avoided him at all costs and spent more time inside. It had been more than 6 weeks since his arrival, and he never engaged the group when we were out by the pool. In turn, no one in our group had approached him either.

At least, I didn't think so.

Even our white wives stopped suggesting that we invite him over, or to go over and talk to him when he was by the pool with one of his white female "friends."

Our white wives seemed to be much more understanding of the husbands' choice to leave the new black resident alone, and not to interfere in his privacy. They all seemed to suddenly agree with us about all the things we had said to avoid the intimidating black man.

That was especially curious to me.

"Why are they agreeing with us now?" I wondered.

"Maybe, they realize how rude he really is, and how terrible of a man he is for seeing all those different women?" I tried convincing myself.

"Maybe they can see how poorly he treats them now, too?" I hoped.

Finally, it was a Saturday morning in August when Julie suggested we have breakfast out by the pool. It was early enough to know that everyone would be sleeping in, and we would have the pool area to ourselves.

I agreed for this reason only.

"O-okay, Julie. We can." I agreed.

We dressed in our swimwear and brushed our teeth quickly. It was 8 o'clock in the morning and Julie wanted to go down to the pool. As we headed downstairs to the workout center that would lead us to pool area, we ran right into him!

The young black stud was right there in the smal condo gym working out!

My eyes lit up in fear and my shoulders fell as I noticed the black stud through the glass doors of the workout center.

"Oh Geez!" I screamed inside.

He was shirtless and wearing a simple pair of black spandex boy shorts as he pounded his fists into what the sport of boxing refers to as a "heavy bag."

His fists were covered in fingerless speed bag gloves as he drove them furiously into the large, body-sized heavy bag that hung from thick chains on the ceiling. The young, black stud had worked up a tremendous sweat by the time we got there.

I didn't even know the gym had such a bag.

Even more humbling was the fact that there was one of the most beautiful blonde women he was seeing there too. She was the 5'9" tall blonde with long, golden hair and a pretty face who looked younger than her age of 34-years old.

She was sitting on the backs of her legs on the padded floor behind him, and slightly to his right. Her eyes were down half way to the floor. In her hands there was a small sweat towel and a bottle of water. Over the front of her thighs was a larger white towel. She sat there quietly as the stud worked out.

Julie just walked in as if it were nothing. I slowly and pathetically stepped my way into the room like I was a deer entering the cage of a panther.

"Oh, hi Trey." my wife said casually, walking in.

The black stud continued his furious pounding of the bag for a moment then looked up to Julie.

"Hey, girl." he simply said, then returning to his workout.

"What the heck?" I thought.

"J-Julie acts like sh-she knows h-him?!" I thought.

With unimagineable distress, I watched as my beautiful young blonde wife walked straight up to the powerfully-built young black stud, turning ever so slightly to me and motioning me over and follow her.

"Oh my god, I didn't know you boxed too?" Julie said, speaking to him as I arrived.

"Yeah, I do some. Not so much lately, though." He answered, his stern voice ringing in my ears.

"Wow, that's great!" Julie said, excitingly, like some sort of school girl.

"Trey? You know my husband, Richard, right?" she asked him.

The black stud threw a few more punches into the bag to "show off" before stopping, standing up and turning to us. The half erection in his stretch shorts protruded outward with unimagineable disdain. I saw Julie stare right at it and when I noticed what she was looking at, I blushed. The obvious bulge was almost rude, as far as I was concerned.

"Geez! HOw could he?" I thought.

I was basically "hiding" behind my own wife, standing there as nervous as I had ever felt. I was terribly afraid to "meet" this firm black man again.

The 25-year-old black man stood there and glared right into my worried eyes.

"Yeah, pretty much." He said.

He simply reached over and behind him as the blonde woman on her knees extended her arms to hand him the bottle of water. He drank a large gulp and handed it back to her. Then, she handed him the small sweat towel and he began wiping off his face and broad, muscular and chiseled chest.

"Honey, Trey is Fitness Instructor but not working right now." Julie began.

"Trey is looking to start up his own center. You know, kinda' like his own business, the same thing I was thinking about doing for my own little business too." Julie said.

"Oh." I answered, meekly, finding it difficult to look up to him.

Now, I had always known that my beautiful young wife wanted to start her own business someday. But, she had never mentioned that it would be a workout center, or anything like that.

"Yeah, Trey says it might be more difficult to do around here." Julie said.

"Trey says Arizona is nothing like Detroit." she continued.

"Isn't that right, Trey?" she said, asking him.

"Yeah, that's right." the black stud replied.

"But, Trey says that it sure beats dancing." my wife giggled.

"Trey says dancing was easy but wasn't as challenging." she added.

I stood there awed by the realization that my wife had been talking to this black man all along. That they had met, and they had actual conversations about their lives.

My face was as red as a ripe turnip.

Humiliated, I watched as the black stud finished wiping his face and chest with the sweat towel. Arrogantly, he flipped it down to the floor before the blonde woman kneeling behind him. Obediently, she picked it up and began folding it neatly. He then removed the fingerless punching gloves on his hands and tossed them into her lap before turning back to us.

"D-Dancing?" I muttered.

"Oh, yeah. Trey was a dancer before. An exotic dancer in Detroit." Julie informed.

"Trey then danced in Phoenix for awhile too." Julie said, continuing.

"Trey says this area has sooo much potential for a good workout center, too." Julie said.

"Um, oh?" I murmured as the black stud looked at me with a fierce stare.

"Well, ya' know. It's all just talk for now but Trey thinks so." she said.

"Trey has a lot of experience in the field." she informed.

"Trey is looking into the costs and starting to look around for investors." Julie added.

"Trey says he will make it the best ever." she said.

"Trey has a lot of really, really good ideas too." Julie continued, almost fawning all over the black stud.

"Right, Trey?" she asked him.

"Yeah, that's right." he said.

The young stud had this "all-knowing" glare in his eyes as my young, blonde wife acted like some sort of little school girl "fawning" all over the big man on campus.

"Geezuz?! What is all this?" I asked myself.

"Trey, Trey, Trey Trey?! Why is she talking about him so much like that? What the heck is wrong with her?" I continued milling over in my mind.

Julie was blabbering on and on. Her state of excitement was something I had never seen before as she continued talking more than ever.

"But, I didn't know you did boxing too, Trey? Oh my god." she continued.

"Ya' know, Richard used to box all the time." Julie suddently stated.

My eyes widened to the size of a car's headlights.

"Is that right?" Tra'mon asked, looking up to me.

My eyes fell immediately.

"Oh, yes. Definitely. He was so good too and never, ever lost a fight." Julie bragged.

"Is that so?" the tough black man asked, almost suspiciously.

My eyes literally fell hardere to the ground and I didn't want to bring them back up.

"Yes, never. He fought in the military and won all his fights. It's a lot harder in the military to fight. It was like 50 fights, or more than that I think." my wife blurted.

"Right, honey?" she asked, turning to me with a proud look on her face.

"Um, y-y-yes. Right. I guess s-s-so." I answered in a meek whisper as I brought my eyes back up to look at her.

My eyes were pleading with her to be quiet. Actually, in my mind I was begging her to "shut up" and stop bragging about all that. I knew I had totally lied about my past boxing accomplishments, and lied about my masculinity. I was not nearly the man I had claimed it to be and knew at that time I wasn't even half the man he was.

The young, black stud seemed quite intrigued by my wife's comments, and by my sullen and worried appearance as I stood there cowering in fear before him.

"He's still in such great shape, too. He never wanted to lose his edge, so he works out all the time. That's just what real boxers do." she blabbered.

My pretty blonde wife was digging a hole for me so deep that I could hardly believe it.

I looked down at the blonde woman kneeling at his feet and wondered why he had not introduced her. It didn't seem to affect my wife. This woman knelt there quietly and subdued.

Then, I looked back to him with a terrified and pleading look upon my face. Non-verbally, I wanted the black stud to know that I was not making such absurd claims, and that it was simply my young and misunderstood wife that was speaking about my athletic prowess, and not me!

Yet, she added to my demise without realizing it.

"Richard always said that a boxer always gets better with more experience. He loved it so, so much." she added.

That is when the young stud spoke up.

His eyes met mine and he literally began speaking in a way that felt more like total sarcasm.

"Well, it's hard practicing with just a bag ya' know. Not too many around here know how to box, or know what boxing is all about." he began.

"I hate having to drive 60 miles just to get in a good live workout." he said.

"Oh, is that where your boxing stuff is Trey?" she asked him.

"Yeah, we have a little fight club there and go at it pretty good." he described.

"That's the only place I can find a decent sparring partner to practice wit' and shit too." he said.

"Wow. That's awful." Julie said.

"But, it's just practice here then huh?" she asked him with great interest.

"Yeah, just practice. It can get a lil' rough and all, don't get me wrong, but it's nothing near the real thing, ya' know." he described.

That is when my wife threw me into the middle of the proverbial cage, with the proverbial black panther.

"Richard, you should help Trey out and practice his boxing with him. Why don't you?" she asked, concerned for the black man's apparent need.

My throat nearly closed.

"Um, I-I don't think so. No, I-I-I haven't done it in such a long time, honey. I'm sure Trey would rather have soomeone else." I prayed.

But, the young black stud was unrelenting.

"Nonsense." He shouted.

"It's only practice and, well, if you were that good maybe ya' can show me a few things too." he bullshitted.

"I-I don't know. I mean ... I'm not sure." I cowered.

"As long as you're up for it. It's gonna take several weeks to git' back in shape n' shit like that. For awhile, it'll be more like I'm training you, ya' understand that right?" He warned.

"Well, I don't think I-I have time for th-that." I said, trying to make up another excuse.

"How much time does it take?" Julie asked.

Tra'mon laughed.

"No more than 30 minutes a day." he smiled.

"But, if you're afraid to or not ready to deal with it then just let me know." the black man said.

His insulting words coarsed through my entire weakened body as he questioned my manhood right there before my young, blonde wife. My face turned red as Julie chimed in.

"Oh, he's not afraid. Richard's not afraid of anything. He's a big, strong man. Look at him. I think he'll do just fine." Julie snapped, giggling.

"Well?" he asked as he looked back to me.

The pause of fear was clear to both him and I. Julie was not even closee to understanding just how afraid I was. She looked at me with great anticipation as she waited for her masculine husband to respond.

I chose the wrong answer.

"Well, um, o-okay I guess. It's just light practice, right?" I answered, praying.

"Yeah. It is. Just as long as ya' know it's gonna take time to get you back in the kinda' shape you were in when you was with the military." he warned, again.

"Well, he might just surprose you Trey." Julie added, proudly.

I was more than terrified by now.

I nearly wet my pansy-looking bathing trunks as I looked at this strong, powerful and obviously masculine black man. Despite being taller than he was, and by seven inches, I just knew that he would be able to destroy me if he wanted to. My eyes silently "begged" him to have mercy on me as I stood there, in fear.

"Oh, that's so great." Julie said.

"I'm sure you guys will have such fun being men and all." she added, beaming with excitement.

"Well, we're gonna go out by the pool and have breakfast. You're welcome to join us, Trey, if you'd like to." Julie said, sweetly.

"I gots a few things to do. Maybe later." he replied.

"Oh, okay Trey. Sure." Julie returned.

As Julie walked out to the pool, I glanced at the black stud when I began following behind her. He smiled evilly and even "winked" at me in a way that scared me half to death. I walked timidly to the entry door to the pool area and then turned back one last time.