A quick note from the author. This story is pure fiction for I can't imagine any wife getting herself into a situation like this. It's just a bit of harmless fun from my over active imagination and certainly not to be taken seriously. Happy reading.
Bazzza
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Twenty five year old Jeb Hammond had slipped into dealing grass quite by accident. For the past three years, he'd struggled financially while putting himself through an engineering degree; his only income was from any part time job he could find. The only job he really enjoyed and stuck with was at a small shop that bought and sold second hand vinyl and CD's. Music was his second love after sex, and he enjoyed the constant coming and goings of people at the shop to do business, and was quite happy to work evenings or weekends when he wasn't studying. It was also a good place to meet the ladies, and every opportunity was explored and taken advantage of.
Jeb was a tall good looking man, his skin dark from his Jamaican heritage. He had a ready smile and an easy going disposition that people liked. His wicked sense of humour resulted in customers usually leaving the shop with a smile even if they hadn't arrived with one. His shoulders were naturally wide and his waist narrow from his parent's genes; he wore his jeans tight to show off his muscled thighs and tight buttocks, knowing they attracted his fair share of female admirers. And with his wealth of knowledge when it came to music, the owner of the shop trusted Jeb to run the business in his habitual absence.
While Jeb hated drugs like coke and crack, he enjoyed the odd puff of grass. It relaxed him and made him feel good, much better than alcohol which made him a little aggressive and then left him with a hangover the next day. So grass was his drug of choice, but he was careful not to over do it. His cousin Kenny was a small time dealer, and would supply Jeb with the small amount that he wanted for his own use.
When one of Jeb's regular customers asked him if he knew where he could get a little grass, he put him in touch with Kenny, and that customer brought Kenny some added punters. A few weeks later, Kenny approached Jeb and suggested he could do a little dealing from the shop, the fact that so many people came and went; it would attract little attention from the law.
While a little reluctant at first, Jeb soon began to build up a small cliental of punters, and the extra money came in real handy. He would encourage his customers to also purchase the odd second hand CD just to maintain his cover. Truth was, his very naive boss who spent most of his time at the track, gave him a little pay rise due to a noticeable increase in sales. Jeb allowed his client base to increase slowly, but would only sell grass to new customers on recommendation from his existing punters, getting busted wasn't on his agenda.
Jeb had been dealing close to sixteen months when Paris Miller entered the shop for the first time looking for a little grass. He'd been told to expect her by one of his regulars, and had also been warned that she could sometimes be a bit of a bitch. Jeb was always one to take people on face value, and was friendly and charming as ever when he did the first deal with Paris. But the attractive brunette treated him with almost contempt and hurried out of the shop with her little bag of grass without even a thank you. Jeb hated any prejudice with a vengeance; he was always polite and expected the same courtesy in return. But each time Paris arrived at the shop, Jeb was treated with the same contempt as before, no matter what he did or said to befriend her.
It was a pity really, for Paris was something to look at. She was stunningly attractive, with her thick dark hair worn long, her green eyes were large, and her face well defined. Her attempts to hide her substantial breasts were unsuccessful, and Jeb like many other people dreamed what her clothes might hide. Most times, Paris would arrive in a skirt which showed off her toned legs, the odd time she would be in jeans which only further showed off her well formed buttocks. The fact that an engagement and a wedding ring adorned her left hand no way discouraged Jeb from his fantasies, for a white married lady, even though a good ten years older than he, would always be the desirable if not forbidden fruit.
It was on a wet Wednesday night that really did it for Jeb; Paris arrived for a buy just before he closed the shop. She cut his pleasantries short and demanded that he move his big black arse and hand over her grass. When Jeb suggested that there was no need to be rude, she told him to get fucked and not waste her time. Jeb handed the grass over and suggested that she not come back. She laughed sarcastically and left with her purchase.
What Jeb didn't know and probably wouldn't have care about, was that Paris's use of grass was purely for medicinal purposes. Paris had injured her back after a drunken fall in high heels down a flight of stairs after a night out two years previous, and the intermittent pain since was sometimes excruciating and unbearable. She had weaned herself off prescribed pain killers because of the usual side affects, and after trying grass on the suggestion of a friend, she realised that she'd found her heavenly release, even though it was an illegal substance.
She kept her little secret from everyone, including her husband Mark who was a well known and respected lawyer. He would hit the roof if he found out she was using drugs, even a little grass. He wouldn't put his reputation on the line, even for the happiness and well being of his wife. But Paris didn't care what he thought, if it was good enough for him to play around with other women, what was a little smoking of grass worth? She didn't actually know for sure that he was playing around, but she instinctively suspected that he was. The little signs of arriving home late with slightly wet hair and smelling of a shampoo that she didn't have in the house, plus the unusually diminished sex drive. To be fair she didn't really care, she sometimes wondered what love really was, for they had drifted emotionally apart in the last few years. She was resigned to the fact that the marriage would probably fail, and would ensure any divorce settlement would suffice to keep her in a reasonable lifestyle.
The weekend that Mark flew out on a so called business trip was supposed to be just like any other, but for Paris, it started badly. After dropping Mark at the airport, she had driven to a shopping centre for a little retail therapy. She had no idea when her handbag went missing from the busy shop counter, it was simply there one second and gone the next. With it had gone her car and house, keys, cell phone, wallet with money and credit cards, and many other things of importance. After taking a taxi home and using a hidden spare key to get into the house, she managed to scrape up enough cash to pay the driver. Later that evening, she tripped over a misplaced mat and tweaked her back, the pain soon began to seep through her body and the tears began to flow.
She knew that a little grass would help, but she needed cash to get it. No problem, she thought and rang two close friends who would happily loan her a few dollars without question. Unfortunately, none were home and all their cell phone numbers were stored in her cell phone, which was still in her stolen handbag. She held out for a while, but the pain just got worse and worse, and with it came the desperation.
In her demented mind, she wondered whether Jeb might consider a little credit, after all she was a good customer. Maybe he would over look their last encounter when she was intentionally rude to him. Taking Mark's car, she headed for the music shop praying that he had not yet locked up for the night.
Jeb was indeed closing up for the night; it had been the usual Friday night rush, both for grass and CD's. He was surprised when Paris entered the shop and made her way to the counter. He looked at her with cold eyes, for he was tired from the long day and in no mood to put up with her uppity behaviour.
"Hey Jeb, need a favour." she announced with a wide smile after making sure they were alone.
"And what might that be?"
"I'm in the shit; my handbag with all my money and card's been stolen. I need a little grass and wondered whether you'd give me a bag on credit?"
"Nope, don't do credit."
"Aw please Jeb, I'm desperate. I use it for pain in my back, and its killing me at the moment. Just this once."
"Sorry, no credit."
"Shit Jeb, please just this once." she pleaded. "I'll pay you double on Monday."
Jeb stared back at her in silence, and still unconvinced. Truth was, he only had a little bit of grass left and he intended to keep it for himself when he got home. He had no intention of giving it to this prize bitch, no matter how much she was in pain.
"Aw god Jeb, c'mon. I really need it."
Jeb reached into his pocket and took out his little bag, he waved it under her nose, "This is all I've got left, and I'm taking it home for myself. I ain't giving it to you, got that?"
