Chapter 10

We had no trouble reaching San Antonio on Day Three of the trip, and after some exploration, found a decent motel on the outskirts of the city that was willing to let us park our RV between its two low-slung buildings full of bedroom units. We passed on the two-bed rooms in favor of adjoining king-sized units, so we could have two bathrooms. We wouldn't really need the two king-sized beds, but, hey, the sheets might get dirty on one of them. I knew the girls would want to share one bathroom and exile me to the other one. That was OK -- at least I wouldn't have women's undergarments hanging off all the available poles and racks.

The king-sized bed (either one of them) was a big improvement over the slightly larger-than-standard sized bed in the RV's Master Bedroom. The three of us could sleep together in this motel without discomfort. I wondered whether Tess could find a way to upgrade the RV's bed to make it a little bigger, a little wider. Maybe if we got most of the other furniture out of the room? Those two bedside tables weren't very important, except for holding bedside lamps.

We didn't do a whole lot of reading in bed.

The previous night, outside New Orleans, Tess had exiled herself to the spare room and left Kim and me alone in the back. Before Tess made her departure, we'd tried all the sexual combinations any of us were up for, but it still felt strange, having Tess leave Kim and me alone, afterward. It hadn't been our very first three-way together, but the other time -- the first time -- it had been Kim who'd taken her leave when it was time for sleeping.

"I really like this!" Kim whispered as I wrapped my body around her, spoon fashion. She was a lot easier to wrap around than Tess. I felt like a big bear, next to her.

"Hmmmm," I said.

Kim wanted to chat. I had just experienced some of the best sustained sex of my young life, was completely drained of precious bodily fluids, and eager for sleep.

But women were this way, the world over. Buddy, you'd better stay awake a little while longer, make an occasional intelligent response -- or at least a meaningful murmur -- and keep your ears open. Don't worry, in all likelihood, she doesn't want any more sex. If you don't want any more sex (and you've done a halfway decent job on the earlier sex), the chances are excellent that she's had enough, as well.

But she does want to talk. Especially now. Kim figured it was kind-of significant, Tess leaving us alone in the main bed for the remainder of the night.

Well, she was right. I thought it was significant, too. It probably meant that Tess trusted Kim not to try to steal me away from her. Tess wanted to make it clear to Kim that she wasn't just a supernumerary, here; she was going to be treated as an equal partner in this little troika of ours.

So, let her lie back and enjoy it, I thought.

"I love it when we make love," Kim said. "... The three of us, I mean. It's exciting! I was... worried about it, at first. I was worried that I was just being... used. But it's not like that! It's sweet and gentle and good. And even when it's not-so-gentle, it's still good," she said, giggling. Her body shook in my arms, from her giggling.

"I worried about it, too," I confessed, "when Tess started talking about it."

"I knew it was her idea," Kim said.

"It didn't take much arm-twisting, for me to go along," I told her, squeezing her little breast gently.

"I'm glad we're doing it together -- the three of us," Kim repeated, "but... this part -- is what I love most. With you, I mean. Don't worry! I know Tess is Number One, for you. I don't want to take you away from her -- I really don't! Not even if you wanted me to! But -- alone like this, with you, afterward: It's very nice! I'm so pleased that Tess doesn't mind. I think she understands how I feel about it."

"Tess thinks that you are more attracted to me than to her, sexually," I agreed. "She doesn't seem to mind that. She wanted you, though, and now, I think she's pleased to know that the feeling is mutual."

"Was she afraid that I would be... unenthusiastic... about being with her?" Kim asked me.

"I guess so," I said. "I think that if you had proven to be less than committed to her, this whole business would only have happened that one time. Maybe she'd have still let you -- you know -- borrow me, or something. But she wouldn't have wanted -- herself -- to be something that was forced on you."

"Oh, she's not!" Kim said.

"Yeah, I know," I said, laughing. "Tess knows, too. It's pretty obvious that nobody's having to force you!"

"Are you tired?" Kim said.

OhmyGod! Surely she doesn't still want more! Please, God, no! "Yeah," I told her. "I'm sorry, but I'm whipped."

"No no no! I didn't mean it like that! I'm tired, too," she said. "But, will you do, with me, like you do, afterwards, with Tess? Will you stay spooned behind me, like this, and tuck your penis up between my legs, while we sleep?"

"Well, I'll try to," I told her, "but I'm afraid there's not much left to tuck. I'm afraid Little Will is plumb tuck-ered out."

When I awoke the next morning, I awoke to Kim's delicate oral attentions.

I figured that Tess must, at some point, have shared with Kim the information that early-morning fellatio was second only to the Baltimore Orioles in my hierarchy of favorite things. Happily for me, Kim's technique was almost -- almost -- as accomplished as Tess' own.

If I ever get a bad blowjob, I'll be sure to let you know.

Anyway, our motel in San Antonio was, while unpretentious, a clean and spacious place. We relaxed there after our late afternoon arrival -- going out only for a light dinner. We planned to spend the whole next day touring the city.

When I dropped off to sleep that evening -- around 10:45, right after Letterman's monologue (Central Standard Time) -- Kim and Tess were still beside me in the big bed, pleasuring each other. They had been, perhaps, a little restrained at first, with this girl-girl stuff, but I was noticing that the cuffs were pretty-much coming off by now.

I wondered if, eventually, I would become irrelevant. For the moment at least, I was too tired to fret about it.

When dawn broke on our first day in San Antonio, I awoke to something new and different. A two-girl sharing of my happy little soldier. They made much of passing me back and forth between them -- I think they'd both seen some bad porno flicks, and were doing their best to imitate the pros' techniques -- but it wasn't so much the tactile pleasure of it that I loved.

Oh, it felt great, all right. But it was the idea of it that was really the greatest thing!Imagine! Two fine-looking women, pretending to fight over my cock. Where are the cameras? I want to get this on tape!

They were considerate enough to keep at it until they brought me off, and even after that, they kept on with the imitation porn show, licking and slurping like that was whipped cream coming out of there, instead of plain old salty regulation cum. There was much moaning and heavy breathing going on, but I knew -- I had to keep reminding myself -- that it was mostly just for show. Let's face it, guys. Sharing a medium-sized stale-smelling dick at 7:30 a.m., before you've even had your first cup of coffee? That's never going to replace watching The Sopranos.

It was really sweet of them, though, to fuss over me like that. I knew I'd think back on these times for the rest of my natural life. The grandchildren, when I told them about this, would probably say something like, "Oh, Grandpa, you're so full of shit!"

I vowed that I would return the favor, as soon as I possibly could arrange it. I loved eating pussy at least as much as either of these women liked sucking cock. Payback would be something I would be only too happy to provide.

San Antonio was as much fun as Tess had promised. We had a great lunch and a greater dinner -- both at River Walk establishments. "It's more fun in warmer weather," Tess said, "when the outdoor tables are available, right on the water, and the boats are going by, full of people who are dining on board."

"Well, this ain't half bad, either," I said.

We had beef brisket -- tons of it -- for dinner, at an incredible place I'll get back to as soon as I'm ever again within 500 miles of any Texas state line. Col. Sanders' secret sauce? That's just an advertising gimmick. But this place's barbecue sauce was completely beyond belief.

Kim, who had been to less memorable parts of Texas before, while playing on the Futures Tour, admitted that she was having to revise her low estimate of the Lone Star State, to take into account the delights of San Antonio.

"Austin's pretty damned special, too," Tess told her. "But we'll save that for another trip."

We left the River Walk long enough to visit The Alamo. Kim wanted to know the story of the dramatic defense of the old Mission by the Texans, but I had to leave the explanation to Tess, because I had too much education in that area. I had a somewhat pro-Mexican attitude toward the "freeing" of Texas from Mexico and the eventual annexation of the area by the United States.

Imperialism, anyone?

But I digress. San Antone was great good fun and we retired for the second night in our King-sized motel bed. It was the end of Day Four of our longest-ever road trip. Next morning, we'd resume our run to Arizona -- still a long, long ways down the road.

Nobody -- not even one single female -- woke me up with a blowjob on Day Five, and I felt a little neglected, but my soft-and-sore appendage was trying to tell me to forget it, he would just as soon pass.

So we saddled up and set out in the RV before breakfast.

Not far west of San Antonio, we were in the Texas badlands again. A few of those little round trees -- Mesquite? And a few clumps of unappetizing-looking weed growth, scattered around among miles and miles of pretty much nothing-much-else. Bare ground, with hills and, occasionally, rocky ridges. I wondered how many cattle could be supported on an acre of such scrubby-looking, virtually vegetation-free land? Not many, I thought. Not unless they liked to eat small rocks and lizards.

But it was kind-of pretty country, anyway. The rolling hills got more and more rolling as we made our way west. I figured we were a day-and-a-half's drive from Phoenix. This place we were (eventually) going to play a tournament -- this "Superstition Mountain" place -- was close to Mesa, which, in its turn, was close to Phoenix.

If somebody asks you where some named place is, in Arizona, and you just don't know, you can say it's "close to Phoenix," and chances are pretty good you'll be correct. I'd say the chances are about 75%. It's a big state, and there's lots of interesting stuff to see. And you can go a long, long ways from Phoenix, and still be in Arizona.