Omar and his son Jimmy have a bet. The winner gets what they’ve always wanted, but each has to seduce their mark before the other. Jimmy has a plan to do just that, but it is his father who gains the lead in their race. Can Jimmy keep up? And how long until Omar’s luck runs out?
Son Swap - Part 3 is a 9,300-word short story and part 3 in a 10-part series.
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Excerpt
Clyde and Cliff turned to stare at me. The two were suddenly very uncomfortable. They stared down at the cards in front of them as I dealt a hand for all three of us, watching them as if they were bombs.
“We’re not allowed to gamble,” Clyde—I think—said nervously. “It’s wrong.”
“And illegal,” Cliff—maybe—added. “We could get in trouble.”
“And go to prison,” the first one finished.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” I said, giving them a wink as I placed the rest of the deck in the middle of the table. “It’ll be just like before, remember?” I paused, leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially. “You liked what we did before, right? During the picnic yesterday?”
Together, the twins’ eyes widened. “So,” I went on, feeling like I had them. “Why don’t we make this interesting?” I scooped my cards up and held them in front of me. “I’ve got a little something for you two.”
Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out a bottle of poppers. This one was fresh, having never been opened, so it was bound to be good. Smiling, I set the bottle down onto the table next to the cards. The twins let out an adorable little gasp when they saw what I’d done.
“Since we don’t want to get in trouble,” I said, snickering, “why don’t we change the rules of poker just a bit? That way…” I peeked over my cards at the twins. “...even if someone finds out, we’ll be alright.”
The twins weren’t looking at me. They only had eyes for the bottle. A few good hits yesterday was all it took to get them both addicted. I really was lucking out with this bet.
“What…?” one asked, trying to tear his eyes off the poppers and failing. “What’re the rules, sir?”
“It’s simple,” I said amicably while moving my cards around. “There’s no money involved so it’s not really gambling. But the winner of each hand…” I nodded down at the poppers bottle. “…gets a prize.”
I had the twins’ full attention now. “Each time one of us has a winning hand, we take one hit off that ‘special’ bottle, okay?” The twins nodded at the same time. “Good,” I said, still moving my cards around. “And the losers have to take one piece of clothing off.”
Clyde and Cliff shared a look. For a second, I was worried they might say no. The fear was dashed when they nodded once at each other and turned to me.
“Okay,” they decided together, picking their cards up. “Who goes first?”