Chapter 1

I'm Andrew Jackson Williams V. My friends call me Jack. I'm a twenty-nine-years-old, six one, and two hundred pound health nut who exercises compulsively and doesn't smoke or drink except for wine and an occasional beer when it's really hot. Good looking some people say, some say handsome as hell.

I like working for myself and I like being outdoors. I started mowing lawns when I was thirteen. I had three crews when I was fourteen and five at sixteen. That grew into a multi-crew landscaping company and a nursery. About three years ago, my Granddad left me a small inheritance. I made Jorge Castillo manager of the landscaping company, Nat Bolton manager of the nursery, and gave both a healthy performance bonus. I used the inheritance to start a dirt-work construction company. It's growing nicely. Now I'm building a cash reserve for my next investment, whatever that may be.

I drove to a subdivision one day to bid my part of a job for a plumbing contractor. The homes were about forty years old, frame construction on a slab foundation. Their water line had broken in the back yard. I'd tear out the old and trench for the new. Arthur's company would lay the line and connect it.

I rang the front door bell and a woman answered. She was about five two, black hair down to her shoulders, round face, and big green eyes. Her eyes got bigger as she stared up at me.

I gave her my sexiest boyish grin and said, "Hi. I'm Jack Williams. I'm going to do the dirt work for Arthur's Plumbing. I'll be going into your back yard to evaluate the site."

"Hi," she said dreamily.

"You are Mrs. Saunders, aren't you?" I asked.

Blinking rapidly, she looked startled. "Yes, I'm Mary Saunders. Go ahead and do your thing," she said. She was still at the front door watching me as I walked around back. The front of the house was neat, but the backyard was a mess. It looked like no one had cleaned or mowed it in six months. As I walked her back yard, I had the feeling I was being watched. I looked up to see her peering out the back window at me. When I started to leave, she came out the back door.

"Mr. Williams?" she called. I turned and waited for her. "Are you leaving?" she asked.

"I just came out to make an evaluation."

"But when will we have water?"

"Two days. Tomorrow afternoon at the earliest."

"Two days? Oh, no. I can't stand it!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Saunders. Grab the hubby and the kids and go to a motel."

"I've been divorced for a year and I can't afford a motel," she said dejectedly. She looked like she was going to cry.

I have business principles. The first one is to hire good people, train them, and treat them well. The second is to do the best damn job possible and for a reasonable price. The third is to be polite no matter how nasty the customer is. The fourth is to get the cash before you fuck the lady of the house. Sometimes they think their bodies are payment.

She looked up at me with wet, but focused, eyes, which made me guess the crying was a ploy to get closer to me. I put my arms around her. She didn't put her arms around me, but she didn't pull away either. "It's all right," I whispered as I rubbed her back.

I noticed several things as I held her. She was small boned, slim, and her breasts felt good against my chest. Her hair was raven with two or three strands of gray, which meant she didn't color it. She smelled good, with only a touch of perfume. She fit perfectly in all my nooks and crannies, which not all women do. I knew I was holding on to some good stuff.

When I let go, she didn't move away. She leaned back to look up at me and said, "I didn't mean to impose on you, but it's been a long, hard week, and it's only Wednesday."

"No problem," I replied.

"I ruined your shirt. If you'll take it off, I'll wash it for you."

"It's a work shirt. It'll be drenched in sweat in no time."

"Well, thanks for comforting me, and please call me Mary."

"My pleasure, Mary. I'm Jack."

"I remember," she replied.

"Let's see what we can do."

I eased my cell phone out of my pocket and put my arm around her again. This time, she put her arms around my waist and her head on my chest. I called one of my crews to tell them to come dig. It'd cost me overtime but it was worth it. I called Arthur and told him I'd have it trenched and ready in four hours. He complained, but said he'd do it.

"What's going to happen?" she asked when I disconnected.

"You'll have water by midnight," I said.

"Thanks," she said, but that one word carried a lot of meaning.

I had another site to evaluate. "I'll be back in about an hour," I told her. "If my crew arrives before me, let them do their thing." She watched me get in my truck and drive away.

When I got back to her place, my crew was unloading the equipment. We'd been working about an hour when Mary came out of the house wearing shorts and a white tee shirt tucked military style to fit like a glove. It hugged the rounds of her breasts and her braless nipples dimpled the cotton. The shorts revealed a tight ass and shapely legs.

"How's it going, Jack?" she asked.

"We're doing fine out here, Mary."

She nodded. "If you want anything, knock on the back door. I'm going to put the kids to bed."

The way she said "anything" and swayed back to the house told me if the anything I wanted was her, all I had to do was ask.

Arthur arrived ahead of schedule. By eleven, she had running water, Arthur had his check, and the crews had departed. I intentionally dallied so I'd be the last one to leave. I was at my truck when she came out to talk to me again.

"How can I ever thank you," she said.

"You've thanked me," I said. I stripped off my sweat soaked shirt, got a clean one out of the pickup cab, and put it on as her eyes flitted over me, absorbing my muscles honed in the gym and workplace.

"Would you like a beer?" her mouth asked. "Would you like me?" her face asked.

"That'd be nice," I replied.

We sat in her living room and talked. She married a guy she met in college, Jim, had a son, Jimmy, aged two, was twenty-six, and managed a retail card and gift shop. Another woman, Becky, and her child, a nine-year-old named Veronica, lived with Mary for companionship as well as financial need. A third woman, whose name was Monica, and her four-year-old daughter, Tiffany, lived in an apartment a short distance away. The three women, best friends since childhood, were an extended family.

Mary was a gentle woman with a sexy softness I liked, but I guessed there was steel in her backbone. As we talked, she moved closer to me on the couch. "That's enough about me. Tell me about yourself, Jack. Are you married?" she asked innocently, but her body stiffened involuntarily as she waited for an answer.

"I'm not the marrying kind, Mary. I like playing the field and women frown on that."

"You never wanted to have children?" she asked.

"I love children. There were five of us when Mom died. Dad remarried Mom's sister, my Aunt Sandy, and they moved in with us. She was divorced with three kids. They had two more, so there were ten kids in the house. If I ever get married, it'll be to have a big family. But I'll need an understanding wife."

"Never even come close?" she asked.

"I was engaged once. She broke it off because I slept with her sister."

"That wasn't especially understanding of her," Mary said with a soft, teasing expression. "I'd like a big family, too. I was an only child and I always wanted brothers and sisters. I'm glad I didn't have them with Jim since that marriage didn't work out, but I still want them."

"You're young. You'll find someone."

She sighed despondently. "I'm an average looking divorcee with a small child and no money. The guys who ask me out are looking for sex and nothing more."

"You're not average. You're one cool lady."

She beamed. "If that means what I think it does, thanks."

"But even if a guy wants only sex, that doesn't mean it's a bad deal," I said.

"I might accept an offer if I thought I was going to be more than a one night stand." I'll bet her skin tingled because her every nerve was on alert for my response.

I took a long time to answer. "Relationships are strange. I'll meet a woman I find interesting and she'll do one of two things. She'll lie to me or she' ll try to change me. That's when I break it off."

"Oh, then it could last a while?"

"It's up to her. It could last a long time if she lights my fire like you do." Our eyes were passing messages like a high-speed connection. "Do you ever meet any men who light your fire?"

She couldn't answer my question. The words wouldn't come out.

"Tough question?" I asked. She shook her head no.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" Again, the words wouldn't come, but her expression spoke volumes and she gave one little nod.

She'd been sitting with one leg tucked under. When I slid next to her, she shifted, slipping down on the couch with her legs out and slightly parted, and her head resting against the back. Her arms went limp by her sides. Her eyes fluttered closed when I kissed her. Her kiss was needy and hot and sweet. When I caressed her breasts through her tee shirt, she made little sounds almost like a cat's purr. It was what she wanted and she was braless to make it easy. I slid my hand under her tee shirt. Her nipples were hard and sensitive. As I rolled one in my fingers, her hips began to move.

"Stop," she whispered.

"Why?"

"I don't mean stop for good, but my housemate Becky may not be asleep."

"When's the last time you had sex in a truck?"

"Too long." Her grin was replaced by a troubled look. "I hate to ask, but are you clean?"

"Disease free. How about you?"

"The same," she said.

"Birth control?"

"I put my diaphragm in tonight for the first time in a year. Please use a condom anyway." I made a face. "I don't like it either. I want to feel your cum scalding me, but I can't afford to get pregnant."

"Condom it is." I extended my hand. She took a deep breath, exhaled loudly, and put her hand in mine.

We ran like teenagers to my truck, a Ford F-250 diesel with a crew cab, parked in her driveway under some overhanging trees and opposite the kitchen window. I opened the door to the rear seat and gave her a hand up. She scooted across the seat to watch me with bright eyes as I sat beside her.

She started unbuttoning my shirt and I helped her along. When it was gone, she slipped her tee shirt over her head. In a flash of modesty, she covered her breasts with her hands, and emitted a nervous giggle. "I haven't done this in a while," she said. She exhaled sharply and her hands fluttered to her lap.

I reached for her breasts and she raised them to make it easier for me. "Nice," I said appreciatively. "Very nice." Her eyes closed and her sensual expression told me she liked having her nipples tugged.

Her eyes opened and she shivered as she undid her shorts and wiggled out of them and her panties. "I want to put the condom on you," she whispered. I leaned over the front seat, got the condom from the glove box, and handed it to her before I stripped off my jeans and jockeys. My cock twitched in the air.

"Oh, my God, he's beautiful," she said reverently. She wrapped her fingers around my shaft and dove for it like a bird attacking a worm, sucking the head into her mouth. She smiled up at me and sucked until she got what she wanted, a string of precum she licked from her lips. "He tastes good, too." She rolled the rubber over my cock and wrapped her fingers around it. "Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me long and hard," she said.

I lay her back with one of her legs over my shoulder and the other on the seat back. "Hurry. I need it," she demanded. I was over her with one foot against the side door as her eager hands guided me to her love hole. "Oh, God," she gasped as I eased into her the first time. Her pussy was wet and tight and sweat broke out on her forehead. "You feel so good, Jack. So good in me," she moaned in my ear.

Quickly, we were in a good rhythm with me bracing myself and her arms around my neck. Mary was a great fuck, squirming and thrusting her pussy as I plunged in and out. I was on top, facing her kitchen window. I raised my head to see a woman with light brown hair and brown eyes eating an apple and watching us. When our eyes met, she winked.

"Oh, shit," I said and pulled out.

"No, Jack. Don't stop."

"There's a woman watching us."

Mary didn't look. She waved a hand to motion the woman away. "It's Becky. Put him back in me. Hurry, Jack."

I'd never been watched as I fucked someone, but I discovered it was a turn-on for me. Mary dug her nails into my back as she thrust against me. Her "uhs" became "ee, ee, ee," a series of little squeaks until she groaned and drove herself against me one final time as she came. I was close and stepped up the rhythm. Her ass started thrusting and she came again when I did, squeaking all the time. We squirmed until her back was against the seat and we were pressed together.

"Ummm," she murmured contentedly. "I knew just by looking at you that you could fuck, but I never thought you could fuck that good." She sighed and kissed me again. "And you kiss just as good as you fuck."

"You're dynamite. We need to do this again."

"We will, anytime you want," she said emphatically.

Later, at her front door, she asked, "Please come to dinner tomorrow night."

"That sounds great. What time?"

"Seven thirty."

Thursday night, I was on time, clean, properly dressed in a starched blue dress shirt, Dockers, and boots, and brought a bottle of red wine. A woman about five five with short blonde hair, classic features, knockout body, bedroom eyes in a hue of blue, and a smirk opened the door.

"Hi. You must be the incredible and wonderful Jack Williams who's God's gift to women," she said sassily. "I'm Monica Collins. Come in, o mighty one." She curtsied as she stood aside to let me slip past her.

The place was small but spotless. Mary came out of the kitchen wearing a tight, short dress with a deep-cut bodice that displayed her breasts and the gold locket and chain nestled between them. She was beaming and her energy bubbled like a hot spring as she welcomed me with a kiss on the lips. She took the wine and guided me toward the couch. The hall door burst open and two little girls, escorted by the woman who'd watched us last night, bolted into the room.

"Hi, Jack Williams," the woman said in a sexy tone full of promise. "I'm Becky. This is my daughter, Veronica. That little cutie is Tiffany, Monica's pride and joy. Have a seat."

When I sat down, Tiffany started to crawl in my lap. "Come here, honey," Monica said as she reached for her.

"That's all right," I interrupted. I picked up Tiffany and sat her on my lap. She smiled up at me with pretty blue eyes and wiggled against me to settle in.

"Wine?" Monica asked, handing me a glass.

"Please. Where's Jimmy?" I asked.

"Already asleep, but I suspect he'll be up before you leave," Monica replied.

I sat on the couch surrounded by women as we sipped wine and chatted. Surrounded was the key word here. Mary was to my left with her hand stroking my leg. Monica sat in a chair opposite. Nine year-old Veronica was on my right and four-year-old Tiffany was in my lap. Becky wandered in and out as she finished preparing dinner.

When Becky called, "Dinner's ready," Veronica held my hand and guided me to the head of a table larded with the old favorites - roast, potatoes and vegetables, and homemade cherry pie for dessert, all cooked to perfection. I offered to help clean up, but Veronica escorted me to the couch. This time, Becky joined us.

Within five minutes of meeting Becky and Monica, I wished I'd met them separately because I wanted to fuck them, too. Each of the three was damn good looking in her own way, and each had a different but positive personality. Mary was pretty, with a nice figure. She was sweet, solid, and sincere. I already knew she loved to fuck. Becky was an earth mother. Big boned and full breasted, she had a sexy twinkle in her eye, like she knew the secret of life and sex, and would share it for a song. Monica was the best looking of the three and had the most classic figure. Her quick wit and personality had a sharper edge, but there was something about her that begged for a man to bring her to heel while defying him to do it.

The most surprising thing was that Becky and Monica both flirted with me. Monica gave me plenty of opportunities to look up her dress as we talked. When she saw caught me once or twice, she smiled and opened wider. I'm a guy, so I looked closer.

When Monica announced it was Tiffany's bedtime, the child gave me a big hug. Her mother kissed me full on the lips. "Good night, Jack," Monica said. "I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

"It's my bedtime, too," young Veronica said. "Good night, Mr. Williams. I've enjoyed meeting you." She kissed me on the cheek, kissed her mother and Mary, and tottered off to bed.

"You survived the kids," Becky said. She had a sexy smile and her eyes held promises.

"I enjoyed them."

"I could tell you did. Mary tells me you want a big family."

"That's right."

"But she said you might never marry. How are you going to work that out?" she asked.

That took me aback. "No marriage, no children, I guess."

"That's too bad. You'd make a great father." She leaned into me with her breasts soft and warm on my chest, and her arms around my waist. She kissed me on the lips. It was a loving, warm kiss, but not a lover's hot kiss. She squeezed my hand and gave me a knowing smile. "Good night, Jack. I hope to see more of you."

As Becky left to go to bed, I was confused and my expression showed it.

"Is everything all right?" Mary asked.

"Eh, yes. Why?"

"Did we blow it? Did we overwhelm you? I mean, was this just too much? I told you they're my family, like sisters to me, but closer, and..."

"Whoa. Slow down. It's been a lovely evening and I've enjoyed myself. I like you and them."

"A lot?" she interrupted.

"Yes. A whole lot. And you're a great cook. I haven't had a roast like that since my grandmother died."

She blushed. "Thanks, but Becky cooked the dinner and Monica baked the pie. I only set the table."

"It was a beautiful table. The evening was lovely." I sat on the couch and she sat beside me, her legs splayed, knees locked, and her thigh against mine.

"So you really liked them?" she asked.

"Yes, Mary. I did."

"Good," she said with a satisfied smile. Her face morphed to a devilish grin. "I did something very naughty today," she said, like a child sharing a secret.

"What?"

"When I got dressed for tonight, I didn't put on my panties."

"You didn't?" I asked with mock surprise. "I don't believe you."

"Check for yourself," she said. She raised her skirt.

"How about Becky?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Last night, you didn't want to have sex in the house because of her."

"Don't worry," she said. When I hesitated, she lifted her skirt a little higher. "Well?" she challenged.

I pulled her on her back, slipped my hand up her leg to find a bare and bloated pussy, and drove a finger into her wetness. "Oh, Jack, don't stop." I love watching a woman when she comes and Mary loved to cum, so I watched as she humped my hand and emitted her little squeaks until she did.

I kissed her and pulled her to a sitting position to unzip her dress, which she helped me remove. She lay back on the couch wearing only a garter belt and stockings. It was the first time I'd seen her body in the light. She had a small pooch of a stomach, a trimmed bush, and a shape that made a man want to mount her.

The surprise was a tattoo the size of a quarter half-way between her belly button and pubic bone. It was an inverted blue triangle with a red block letter "J" in the center.

"I went to the doctor today. He started me on the pill and fitted me for a new diaphragm. We can do it bareback," she said.

"Why don't we then?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she said as she grinned and wiggled all over.

"How about the floor?" I asked.

She rolled off the couch and knelt, watching me with big, sexy eyes as I discarded my clothes. When I knelt, she grabbed my cock, jammed it in her mouth, and sucked like crazy. She popped him out, licked her lips, and smiled at me.

"I like you fucking me, Jack Williams," she said softly.

"That's good, Mary Saunders, because I like doing it."

I had the feeling we were being watched. I looked up to see the hall door open an inch or so and a brown eye peering at me.