Chapter 3

Ordinarily keeping regular hours and rising easily at 5:30 every morning Pete didn’t usually ask for a wake-up call. But when he got back to his room after three a.m. Pete asked the front desk to wake him. When the phone rang it was like a fire alarm had gone off. Bolting upright he remembered where he was and why he had slept so little. “Jesus,” he said, “what a fucking night,” which was an appropriate description of it. He didn’t have to pinch himself to see if it had been true; his throbbing balls were doing an adequate job of verifying that it happened.

Like so many men who spent large blocks of time away from home, he had all kinds of fantasies: fantasies about the big-haired, pretty, younger women who populated so many offices in Texas. There were fantasies of the older, attractive married ones, even fantasies of some of those plainer women who were often prey for traveling men. Through twenty-two years of happy marriage, he’d resisted the urge by cavorting solely with his five-fingered friend. All along though he admitted that he wouldn’t be able to resist the siren that came knocking on his hotel room door in the middle of the night. No man could have said “no” to that temptation. Since he knew it would never happen though he always felt safe. In past circumstances when he was in a bar and the rubber really met the road, instead of hitting the gas he backed off and slinked to his room for another assignation with his grip. Last night was different; he’d gone out specifically hoping to get laid.

Having been away from home for a full month and dealing with an incredibly frustrating installation and he needed release. There was a lot at stake for the company, and certainly himself. He knew that if he pulled it off successfully, he would jump a few rungs on his climb to the top level of his company. If he blew it though he could easily be on his way out. Along with that pressure, there’d been more than one testy conversation with his wife during the last week; she was dealing with sexual needs of her own and he couldn’t help her. Succumbing to those pressures he finally went to a “meat market,” the Texas Two Step, with the full intention of hustling a woman and bringing her back to his room to release at least one pressure. He was new at this and wasn’t sure he would succeed in scoring with a woman. As it turned out he hit a grand slam home run.

As he showered for his second night with Dotty McCord his circumcision scar was a bit chafed, and his balls were tender to his touch as he washed them. Still having not recovered from his heavy night of drinking he tried to assess what made him choose Dotty, the mother, over her daughter Silk. The fact that the gorgeous young blonde was spoken for by her middle-aged biology teacher, Clay Burnett, really had nothing to do with it, he preferred Dotty. Strange stuff goes on down here he thought but knew that the same thing went on everywhere. His instincts locked on Dotty, she was the driving force that put the evening together, the kind of mature woman he had lusted for so many times in the past but hadn’t acted on.

The evening with her turned out to be more exciting than he could have imagined. And it was more than just the sex, Dotty seemed extremely comfortable with him. At 2:30 in the morning, he knew he had to get back to the hotel. Like a macho stud, he had gone to the Texas Two Step commando and couldn’t conceive of going through the next day with his sensitive parts being rubbed raw by the rough denim fabric of his Levi’s. Dotty offered to give him a pair of her husband’s tighty-whities. “He-he-he,” she had said, “he’ll never miss them.” But Pete really wanted to face the day wearing his own things. He needed as few distractions as possible.

Thinking about the improbable night he spent with her he stayed longer in the shower than he intended. She was one of the most sexually compatible women he’d have ever known, obviously having enjoyed numerous adventures with various lovers. She was one of those women who’d been blessed with an orgasmic hair-trigger that could be pulled on over so many parts of her body. He’d lost track of how many. She got wet at the drop of a hat and even squirted when she got too hot—an experience that was entirely foreign to him. Getting hard with thoughts of his magnificent experience he needed to rest his aching parts a while longer. Getting out of the shower he dabbed himself dry and not touching himself too roughly he was able to make his owie a little better. He knew that when he got into the action with Dotty again tonight, he wouldn’t even notice the irritation until the evening was over. Putting on his shorts he shaved then pulled on his pants and socks. Looking in the mirror, based on the comments Dotty had made, he was pleased with how trim and fit his body appeared. Or does she tell that to all the men she fucks? He hoped so. She’s too pretty to be with slobs.

Having never had it happen before he never really expected that he would spend most of the night with her. He had always thought that if he really met a woman and spent the night with her it would be awkward. With Dotty, it seemed so natural. When he realized that it was a “go” he figured it would be just a one-night stand—that was all he was expecting. But Dotty made sex with him so comfortable and natural that he hoped it would happen again before it was time for him to go back home. When she had gotten into the car with him to leave the Texas Two Step, he hoped for a blow job along the way and a fuck or two before she kicked him out. He wasn’t expecting a night that would go on until his cock refused to rise and he felt like someone had kicked him in the balls. Even after all of that she pretty much begged him to stay. What a horny woman she is.

Not only was Dotty McCord a beautiful woman she brought out a dominant part of his nature that he never realized existed. On top of that, she invited him to dinner on Friday night. “We’ve just got to get together with Clay and Silk,” she had said, “they’re so much fun to be with.”

He had no idea what could make them so much fun but having gotten to know Dotty so well in just one night the impossible idea of getting just a “taste” of Silk appealed to him. Having become aware of Dotty’s need to monopolize his time though he was intrigued but didn’t think involvement with Silk would be part of the program. More than anything he was just eager to get Dotty back into the sack and hoped that Clay’s and Silk’s presence wouldn’t cramp his style with her mother.

During the day though while working on just a couple of hours of sleep he was surprisingly relaxed. Just shows what sex for a starved libido can do. The day at work had gone remarkably well in relation to how it had been progressing for the past month. The replacement hard drive had come in ahead of schedule which meant they might be able to finish the job on Tuesday instead of Wednesday—at this point in the process saving a day would be huge. Everything went so well at work that Pete decided to knock off a little early. Going back to his hotel at 4:00, while he wasn’t exhausted, he knew a nap would serve him well. The front desk woke him at 5:15. Dotty was expecting him at 6:00.

While the hour of sleep refreshed him, he was troubled by the dream he’d had. In it he’d come home from his trip, had taken his wife out to dinner, and came back home and made wild love. When he cried out “I love you Dotty,” his wife asked, “Who is Dotty?” She accused him of having an affair ... they were fighting when the wake-up call came. During the sex last night and afterward he hadn’t wasted any time on guilt, but the dream had him waking in a sweat.

A wiser man than he used to say, “A stiff dick has no conscience.” Before he dropped off to sleep though, his conscience was bothering him. He even considered calling Dotty in the morning and telling her he couldn’t come over that evening. In the shower though, he wondered about his wife being alone for so long. Assessing their phone conversations it seemed to him there was a greater divide than simply the distance. During the span of their marriage, he had never been gone for more than a week. He thought of some of the things she wasn’t saying, and thought can something be going on with Lydia and someone else. In a way he wished that it would have been true, it would have made it easier for him to accept what he was doing with a clearer conscience. Neither would find out about the other’s unfaithful activities. It might even have made their marriage better after having sowed a few wild oats. He would have been pissed had he ever found out about it though. This was the first time he had ever actually cheated, and he was looking for things to make him feel better about it.

On the way to Dotty’s house, any feelings of guilt he might have had were crowded out by the anticipation of another wild night with her. By noon, his balls had stopped hurting. Now, except for a pleasant tingling on the head of his penis, he was once again ready to go. The first one to get to McCord’s house, Dotty met Pete at the door. She was dressed in a white knit top that highlighted her shapely breasts and well-defined cleavage. She wore a fetching flowered skirt. Her blue eyes sparkled as she gave him a peck on the lips and patted his partially hard penis saying, “I cain’t stop thinkin of last night, Pete.” She winked. “And my little pussy is all wet and ready for tonight.” As he started to lift the hem of her skirt she whirled away and said, “No time for that right now sweetie, we’re the hosts. You’ve got to get ready to grill some steaks.”

Four minutes later Silk came in the door trailed by Clay who was carrying a couple of six-packs of Lone Star beer, one in his hand and one under his arm. In his other hand, he had a 4pack of wine, two Cabernets, and two Chardonnays. Silk wore a sweater and skirt like her mother’s and was wearing heels and taupe hose. Clay wore Levi’s and a light blue western shirt with pearl buttons. He had on a black cowboy hat and brown lizard skin cowboy boots. As far as Pete could see Clay was in remarkable physical shape for his age. When he put the beer and the white wine in the fridge he said, “Fancy a beer, Pete?”

Though he had merely exchanged pleasantries with Clay the night before they had both gone their separate ways with mother and daughter. There was something about the man that put his mind at ease. He liked the fact that when he took the two Lone Stars out of the fridge he popped the caps, didn’t bother with glasses, and just handed him the bottle. With an assuring look of self-confidence, he said, “Here’s to an exciting and satisfying evening.” Eager to achieve both levels of consciousness Pete clinked bottles with Clay.

Taking a swig Clay looked at his bottle and with a small shake of his head he smiled and said, “Life in a small town like Rio Branca is kind of like living in a large, extended family.” He smirked and continued, “Only the extended part never seems to get very far away unless with someone like you Pete takes stories into a whole nother part of the country.”

Mistaking Clay’s purpose Pete asked, “Are up telling me that I shouldn’t be playing in the local sandbox?”

Clay grinned, held up his beer, and said, “Touché. I didn’t mean it that way, Pete. I’m just trying to give you a sense of what a small Texas community like ours is like.”

“I’m not quite following you, Clay.”

“Since you spent the night with Dotty Pete it’s like you’ve become a member of the family in a way. What most people don’t understand about small Texas towns is how the family tends to be incestuous.”

“I didn’t know you and Dotty were family Clay.”

“Not in the way you think Pete but like I said it’s a small community. Dotty and I are second cousins. But as a teacher, I had both her and Silk in high school.”

The way Clay was gazing at him out of the corner of his eyes made Pete wonder if “had” meant more than just teaching. He began to understand as Clay’s gaze became straight-on and he nodded his head ever so slightly, his smile growing but only infinitesimally so. Jesus, he’s telling me that it does he thought as Clay stared at him straight on and nodded, his smile growing but only infinitesimally so. The kinky admission gave Pete an unexplainable thrill, the head of his cock filling and stretching his pimp penis.

“Right,” Clay said with a wink and a cluck, a gesture that seemed universally common there. “I’m not sayin it’s so in the whole state of Texas Pete but in towns the size of Rio Branca probably sixty to seventy percent of the population is kin.” He paused to let what he implied sink in.