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When the phone rang it was as if a fire alarm went off. Bolting upright he remembered where he was and why he had slept only such a short time. Ordinarily getting up at 5:30 every morning Pete didn’t ask for wake-up calls. But when he got back to his room after three in the morning he left the message at the front desk. “Jesus,” he said, “what a fucking night.” He didn’t have to pinch himself to see if it were really true; his throbbing balls and chafed penis were doing an adequate job of verifying his activities. Fucking was an appropriate description of the evening.

Like so many men who spent so much time away from home all kinds of fantasies usually went through his mind: fantasies with the big haired, pretty young women who populated so many offices in Texas. There were also fantasies of the older, attractive married ones, even fantasies of some of those plainer women who were easy prey for traveling men such as him. During his twenty two years of happy marriage though, he had resisted the urge by frolicking exclusively with his five fingered friend. All along though he admitted that he wouldn’t be able to resist a siren that came knocking on his hotel room door in the middle of the night. No man could have resisted that kind of temptation. Because of his untarnished track record he became convinced that it would never happen. He knew he was safe. In past circumstances when he was in a bar and the rubber met the road, instead of hitting the gas he backed off of what seemed “cornered prey” and slinked to his room for another assignation with his hand. Last night was different.

The frustration of his job coupled with being away from his wife for a full month had ramped up his need for sexual relief more than any time in his married life. Dealing with an incredibly troublesome installation with a contentious client had his tensions on a razor sharp edge. There had never had a project in his business life as frustrating as Texas Affiliates and the stakes were high. He knew if he pulled it off successfully his climb toward the top of his company would be assured. On the other hand if he blew it he could easily be on the way out the door. Then there were the numerous touchy telephone conversations with his wife about her own needs.

Finally succumbing to all of the pressures he went to the Texas Two Step Saloon, a local “meat market” intent upon hustling a woman and bringing her back to his room. There was no way he could have imagined that he would hit a grand slam homerun. Shortly after catching the eye of the sexy “older” Dottie McCord and her even foxier daughter Silk, he found himself caught in the perfect storm. It was two days after his forty-fifth birthday; he was already stuck in the quicksand of his mid-life crisis. He was the “Foul Owl on the Prowl” (the song from the 1967 movie In the Heat of the Night performed by Boomer and Travis). But it was Dottie who took him home with her, laid waste to his sexual parts and sent him home in the middle of the night. Now he was getting ready to go back to her house for dinner.

Standing in the shower he mulled his choice of Dottie as opposed to her sexy daughter. As it turned out the gorgeous young blonde was spoken for, curiously enough, by her middle aged high school biology teacher. He remembered thinking strange stuff goes on down here. But his instincts had locked on Dottie in the first place; she was closer to his age. Besides 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 had never acted on when he had had the opportunity.

The evening with her turned out to be more exciting than he had imagined. It was more than just the sex though. Dottie gave him every indication that she was extremely comfortable with him. Given that she was the only sex partner he had had in the last twenty-some years he was amazed at how comfortable he was with her.

He woke up in bed with her at 2:30 in the morning and knew he had to get back to the hotel. Like a macho stud he had gone “commando” to the Texas Two Step and couldn’t conceive of going through the next day with his sensitive parts being rubbed raw by the rough denim fabric of the Levis he was wearing. Giggling, Dottie offered a pair of her husband’s tighty-whities but Pete wanted to face the day wearing his own things. There was enough irritation in the workplace he was in and he didn’t want to complicate it with a burning groin.

Thinking about the improbable night with Dottie he stayed longer in the shower than he intended. She was one of the most sexually compatible women he’d have ever known, one of those women who’d been blessed with an orgasmic hair trigger, she got wet at just the thought. He tried to remember how many times she had come recalling how she squirted when she got too hot, an experience that was entirely new to him.

Getting hard with thoughts of Dottie and what could happen this night Pete wanted to rest his aching parts for a while longer. Knowing that when he got into action with her again tonight he probably wouldn’t even notice the irritation but he still had to dab himself dry and as the hardness of his “owie” was going down. Based on the comments Dottie made he was pleased. As he looked into the mirror he assessed how trim and fit his body looked. Or does she tell that to all the men she has sex with? He hoped so. She’s too hot a woman to be having sex with slobs.

Having never had a one night stand before, he didn’t really expected that he would spend most of the night with her. If he did he thought it would be awkward. When he realized that it was actually a “go” he figured it would be just that—a one night stand. But Dottie made sex with him so comfortable that it felt natural. He was looking forward to tonight and hoped it would happen again before the job was finished and he would go back home.

When she had gotten into the car with him to leave the Texas Two Step Pete hoped for a blow job along the way ... maybe to screw her a couple of times before she kicked him out that night. He wasn’t expecting a night that would go on until his cock would rise again, feeling like some someone had kicked him in the balls. Even with that she begged him to stay. What a horny woman she is. Not only was she beautiful Dottie brought out a dominant part of his nature that he never realized existed. On top of that, before he left, she invited him to dinner on Friday night.

“We just have to get together with Clay and Silk, Pete” she said. Silk was her daughter. Clay was her biology teacher/honey. “You’ve got no idea how much fun they are to be with Pete.”

Since he had “no idea” what could make them so much “fun” his mind went places it had never gone before. But having gotten an idea of how much fun Dottie was to be with his mind went to what he perceived Silk’s naked body to be like. He wondered if she, like so many younger girls, was shaved, or if she had a patch of the same colored, soft, blond hair that was on her head. He remembered how deliciously wet and sweet Dottie’s pussy tasted and wondered what it would be like to tongue Silk’s as well.

He thought about how eager Dottie monopolized his time last night and wondered if Silk would be part of the program tonight. Then Clay popped into his mind. I wonder if that old guy, even in as good shape as he appears, can really satisfy a hot young number like Silk McCord. Will they just go into one of the other bedrooms? Or will there be more? Whether Silk was part of his program or not he was eager to get back into bed Dottie. She is more woman than I ever thought I would find here ... or anywhere else for that matter.

The day at work had gone remarkably well. Maybe it was because of the sex last night. I only got a couple hours sleep but feel like a million dollars. But 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 saving a day was huge. And even Thornton Brockmeyer was friendly to him today. Since he had arrived at the Rio Branca plant it seemed that Brockmeyer was set on making the project fail. But at lunch it was announced that Brockmeyer had been elevated to Vice President of Operations. All in all everything went so well at work that Pete decided to knock off a little early and go back to his hotel at 4:00. While he wasn’t exhausted he knew a nap would fortify him for tonight.

The front desk woke him at 5:15. Dottie was expecting him at 6:00. While the hour of sleep refreshed him he was troubled by the dream he had. In it he had 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 Dottie,” his wife asked, “Who is Dottie?” 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; a wiser man than he used to say, “A stiff dick has no conscience.” None the less the dream troubled him. Before he dropped off to sleep he even considered calling Dottie in the morning and telling her he couldn’t come.

In the shower he wondered about his wife being alone for so long. Assessing their phone conversations it seemed to him that there was greater divide than just the distance and his being away so much time. During the span of their marriage he had never been gone for more than a week. Can something be going on with Lydia and someone else? In a way he wished that it were so. It would have made it easier for him to accept what he was doing with Dottie with a clearer conscience. But he would have been pissed had he ever found about it. This was the first time he cheated and he was looking for things to make him justify it if he ever got backed into a corner.

By noon his balls had stopped hurting. On the way to Dottie’s any guilty feelings he might have had were nosed out by the anticipation of another wild night with this exciting Texas woman. With the exception of a pleasant tingling in the head of his penis he was once again ready to go.

He was the first one to get there. Dottie, dressed in a white knit top that advertised the well- defined cleavage of her shapely breasts, wore a fetching flowered skirt. Giving him a peck on the lips she patted his partially hard penis. “I cain’t stop thinkin of last night Pete,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling. “And my little pussy is all wet and ready for tonight.” Pete started to lift her skirt but she whirled away saying, “No time for that right now sweetie, we’re the hosts. You’ve got to get ready to grill some steaks.”

Twelve minutes later Silk came through the door trailed by Clay who was carrying a couple 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 similar to her mother’s. She was wearing heels with dove colored hose. Clay wore Levis 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 shape for his age. When he put the beer and the white wine in the fridge he asked, “Fancy a beer Pete?”

He had only exchanged pleasantries with Clay the night before. They said a few words in parting before going their separate ways with mother and daughter. Even though it was such a short meeting there was an aura about the man that put Pete’s mind at ease. The feeling continued when saw him again. He liked the fact that as 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, the man’s down to earth.

With an assuring look of self-confidence Clay said, “Here’s to an exciting and satisfying evening.” There was something about Clay that Pete hadn’t noticed last night. When they first met the older man seemed to be totally welcoming. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel welcomed tonight; it was just that Clay seemed to have something on his mind that sooner or later he had to let Pete in on. Realizing that he was a tomcat in another tomcat’s territory Pete recognized tentativeness in Clay that he hadn’t sensed last night. I guess I’ll find out Pete thought as he 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 Pete.” Smirking he continued, “But the extended part never seems to get very far away from home ... unless someone from out of the area takes it somewhere it’s not supposed to go.” He took another sip from his bottle then continued, “When people don’t understand local customs Pete they might get the wrong idea if they aren’t born to it.”

He wasn’t saying it in a threatening way. It just seemed to Pete that he was bent on teaching something. “Are you telling me Clay that I shouldn’t be playing in the town 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 our little community is like.”

“I’m not quite following you Clay.”

“Since you spent the night with Dottie Pete, you might be getting the idea that you are a member of the family. What most people don’t understand about small southern towns like Rio Branca, Mr. Santori, is how close you might say people here are ... many would say ‘clannish.’” He looked curiously out of the corner of his eye. “Some might even say...” he paused,” ... incestual.”

“Are you and Dottie family Clay?”

“Not in the way you might think Pete. She and I are second cousins. Her husband and I are first cousins.”

“So does that mean Dottie is married to her second cousin?” With a hint of a smile on his lips Clay nodded.

“Sounds like the subject could be pretty deep,” Pete said. Clay raised his Lone Star in tacit agreement.

“Not as deep as you might think Pete, unless you consider the repetition. The repetition tends to make it make it kind of cumulative.” He smirked.

Pete’s mind was racing. If Clay was saying what he thought he was saying this family situation was getting pretty involved. He had to ask, “Just how deep are you talking Clay?”

“I can see that you are a perceptive man Mr. Pete Santori. And I’m not trying to wave you off or scare you away. But in answer to your question, the depth can range between five and eleven inches, depending upon how well-endowed the players are.” He laughed and added, “Larger is usually BS and smaller is, shall we say, pathetic.” He nodded his head when Pete chuckled at the joke. “So based on the frequency of the numerous relationships here Pete, we can be talking about miles deep.”

After pausing long enough for Pete to have figured out what he was talking about he went on, “I don’t mean to disturb you Pete but Dottie’s ... um ... daddy is the chairman of the board of Texas Affiliates. I’m sure you’re a discreet man but Grover McClintock has a jealous streak of people he doesn’t approve of. I’m talkin’ SERIOUS jealous.” He nodded, “Word from the wise.”

The threating quality for what Clay was saying was lost on Pete. “Which means?”

“It means Pete (his gaze held steady while the smile disappeared) from what I have heard from Grover about Pete Santori, you’re handling the curveballs Brockmeyer is throwing at you and the difficult installation superbly. He told me he would love for you to work for him. Grover sees you as a man with intelligence and wisdom ... and a man with balls. I confess Pete that I have been influenced by Grover’s opinion. But in the brief time we talked last night I sized you up as a man of intelligence and action ... I’ve been doing that with students for years. Had you not measured up that way to that both Grover and I expected, Dottie would never have taken you home last night.” When Pete wrinkled his brow and rolled his eyes Clay said, “I’m what you would call Grover McClintock’s sounding board.”

When he saw that Pete was struggling with the meaning of what he was saying he asked, “Have you given any thought Pete as to why neither Dottie nor Silk was hit on by any of the other men in the Two Step last night?” Pete gave him a blank stare. “The answer is that Grover McClintock is one of the most powerful men in Texas. He’s King of these parts. No man here will do anything that might piss him off ... stakes are just too high to take a chance.” He gave one of those Texas winks.

“So,” Pete said, “Does just being Dottie and Silk’s high school teacher give you such power over them?”

“It’s more than that Pete. I had em both in high school.”

Pete picked up that “had em” meant much more than simply being their teacher.

“I’m Godfather to both girls. Grover and I have been best friends since we were little boys so I know more about the subject than anybody but Grover and Dottie. Next to Grover I’m also the largest stockholder in Texas Affiliates.” To Pete’s look of disbelief he added, “I’m not bragging Pete, it’s just that Grover and I are more than good friends.”

Giving him a moment to digest what he had been saying Clay took a swig of his Lone Star before going on. “Grover’s wife never had children Pete. Grover has three: Thornton Brockmeyer, Dottie and Silk McCord.”

Pete’s mind wasn’t wrapping around everything that Clay was trying to say to him.

“I can see by the look on your face Pete that you’re confused.” He lifted his left hand and from his pinkie finger to his middle finger he counted with his right: “Thornton’s Grover’s bastard son, he adopted Dottie just after Thornton and Dottie’s mama got back from Europe—Marney was Grover’s mistress who was sent there to have his second baby. When Dottie got pregnant with his second baby girl he married her off to Sam McCord ... named the baby Silk because of what he thought the inside of Dottie’s pussy felt like.” He winked and clucked. “I bet you think we’re somthin’ down here, huh Pete?”

He did. Jesus this Grover DOES sound like a king. But he’s right about the feeling of Dottie’s pussy.

Shaking his head at Pete’s look of disdain Clay said with sarcastic grin, “Some of us Texan’s can be a complicated lot Pete, ‘specially kings ha-ha-ha.”

Pete asked, “So why do you enjoy such ... er ... privileges with your ... um ... goddaughters Clay?

Clay smiled and shrugged. “It goes way, way back Pete ... back to when Grover and I were in high school together. It was the Widow Terhune; our school nurse that got us started sharing our women. We were star athletes, both on the state championship football team. Tillie Terhune’s husband died in the war and she never remarried. I guess she decided to spend her time teaching young boys the finer points of sex rather than fighting with another husband.” He smiled and chuckled then went on, “Grover and I met identical twins in college—both cheerleaders. Both of us married em, it was an easy segue.” He laughed. “Half the time neither of us had any idea which twin we were in bed with.”

Cocking his head Clay pondered then said, “Grover and I have an ongoing dispute about which of us is really Silk’s daddy. Grover says she’s his, I say she’s mine.” He took another swig of Lone Star. “Only reason it matters is she’s the only child I’ve had.”

Pete didn’t say “Wow,” but his eyes did.

“Right,” Clay said with a wink and a cluck, a gesture that was common among Texans. “I’m not sayin’ that’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 was implying sink in.

Pete knew he should just let him continue at his own pace but felt compelled to ask the question, “What about Dottie’s husband?”

“Lamar McCord,” Clay clarified.

“And you had sex with both Dottie and Silk when they were students in high school?”

“You’re starting to sound like an FBI agent Mr. Santori. Where’s your notebook?” He cocked his head and smirked.

Pete knew by Clay’s demeanor that he wasn’t really threatening him or that he was pissed off at him for asking the question.

“Yep Pete,” Clay say with an accepting smile “It’s against the law. But like I said, some seventy or so percent here are kin. Jim Jeffords, the sheriff, is my cousin. Most of the town is cousins to some degree. I just want to make sure that you understand what goes on in Rio Branca ... Another beer?” Pete nodded his head ‘yes.’ After prying off the caps Clay handed one to Pete ... they clinked and each lifted their bottles to swig, Pete more hesitantly than Clay.

“It’s different here Pete. You’ve probably been thinking that we’re as correct, both politically and morally, as the big city, if there’s such a thing as a big city being moral. But if every father, grandfather and teacher went to jail in Rio Branca for carnal knowledge of their daughter, granddaughter or student we would have to import men to do the work of all the criminal adults that were in stir. It’s just something we’ve all grown up with here. Frankly, we all love it, even those whose job it is to enforce the law.”

Having just been given a class on community relations in Rio Branca Pete shrugged his shoulders swigged on his beer, burped quietly and said excuse me then asked, “So ... why have you gone to the trouble to give me all of this information on the flora and fauna of small-town Texas?”

Clay chuckled and with a wry grin said, “Very clever Pete. I reckon I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t asked the question in a way that would appeal to a biology teacher.” He offered Pete a faux toast by raising his beer bottle. “And the answer is more complicated than you might think. Fact is you have tremendous curb appeal to Grover McClintock. You’ve already impressed him by the way you are ‘handling’ Thornton Brockmeyer, his rebellious bastard.”

Pete found it interesting that Clay used the phrase, “curb appeal,” a term used by real estate agents to describe a house that looks real good when you drive up. “I wouldn’t describe the way I’ve been able to keep from hauling off and knocking Thornton on his ass as ‘handling him.’ And since I’ve only talked with Grover McClintock twice—and that for only a few minutes—it’s hard for me to understand why he might be viewing me as property.”

“Just the way you’re talking to me now and the way you have brought Thornton to bay, and the comments he has heard about you in the office has made him a fan of yours Pete. He rarely gets involved, always let’s his underlings do their jobs. But he asked me a couple weeks ago to make a point of getting the chance to talk with you. He wanted me to do a little intelligence work on you for him.”

Pete started to say something but Clay held up his hand and continued. “You might think this a little strange Pete but Grover is the kingfish around here and runs this community like it’s his own. He knew two things about last night Pete. He knew Dottie and Silk were going to the Two Step. And he knew that you left your hotel and went into the same place. He called me on the phone, first to keep an eye on his daughters and second to meet you ... said that if I approved of you, Dottie could take you home—not Silk though.”

“Jesus this is fucking strange Clay. Grover sounds like a dictator. And why in the hell would he want his daughter—his married daughter—to go home with me? What about Dottie’s husband?”

Clay laughed. “That’s an easy one Pete. In the first place Dottie’s husband is just a name to keep Silk legitimate. Lamar McCord was handpicked years ago ... got an important job on the inside of the company. He’s got a mistress in San Antone—lives there a good deal of the time. Grover can’t get it up anymore. That’s confidential by the way. Dottie’s been his main squeeze and at the moment he wants to keep her happy with an upstanding stud who won’t be around long enough to complicate things son.”

The immediate effect of what Clay was saying to and about him pissed Pete off. His immediate urge was to walk out the door. The thought of being Grover’s choice to fuck Dottie made him feel like a race horse that’s value was only stud service. But just as he thought Jesus, what have I gotten myself into the tender head of his cock brushed against the rough fabric of his Levis. With an instantaneous slide show of last night flipping through his mind the race was decided; his cock beat his mind by two lengths at the wire. He rationalized this whole fucking trip will be history within a few days ... and Dottie’s not exactly a whore. This is just too hot ... tonight ... maybe tomorrow night. Fuck it.

There was laughter coming from the hallway leading back to the bedrooms. Clay asked, “Are you okay with this Pete?”

Pete cocked his head, gave a sarcastic smirk and said, “Fuckin A. its good pussy.”

Clay smirked back as if to say, “thought you’d say something like that.”

The girls walked into the kitchen, both barefooted. Silk’s long, curly hair made her look like Barbie but with the appearance of an older teenager. It was apparent that she would match the youthful looks of her mother no matter who old she was. There was something different about both women that caused a tingle in Pete’s groin. They had both removed their hose and it was apparent by the dimpling of their thin sweaters that their bras had been taken off. He could tell by the way the cotton material of their skirts conformed to their shapely asses that they wore no panties. Because his and Clay’s conversation had lasted fairly long he wondered whether they had just been doing girl talk or if the girls could possibly have been engaged in some kind of hanky-panky. Dottie had impressed him last night as a very eclectic lover that wouldn’t have ruled out the possibility of frolicking with another woman.

Based on his and Dottie’s conversation before Silk and Clay came in it was clear that he would be grilling steaks. But Dottie announced, “Silk and I have to spend a few minutes with Pete, Clay, to talk with him about the ground rules for tonight’s activities. We want to make sure that he-he-he we don’t offend his sensibilities. A Yankee might not understand how we play down here.”

Based on the frank discussion he and Clay just had Pete wasn’t surprised that the old biology teacher cum multimillionaire went along with the change of plans so affably, if indeed it was a change at all. Clay made it clear to him that Grover McClintock involved himself with every aspect of this “family.” It was kinda like a drama that had been written in a sinful one act play. Pete felt a niggling discomfort in being used as a pawn. But with two stunning females poised to do him dirty he was well beyond the realm of reasonable thought.

Both women embraced him, Dottie kissed him while Silk rubbed her tits on his back ... he could feel her breasts through the thin weave of her sweater. The scent and taste on Dottie’s lips was definitely that of pussy, which confirmed his question about what the two of them were doing while he and Clay were talking. Dottie fumbled with his fly, managed his zipper down and worked out his penis which was already stiff. As he and Dottie kissed he felt another hand on his erection and heard Silk murmur, “You’re right Momma it is big ... and so firm.”

He glanced beyond Dottie and saw Clay through the window, the smoke from the grill rising as the steaks he had put on had started dripping on the fire. With a big grin on his face Clay was laughing at what he saw inside. He was shaking his head in disbelief as if to say, “These McCord women are the damnedest females in Texas.”

As Dottie’s tongue slithered in Pete’s mouth he felt the motion of Silk’s shoulders going down. But Dottie almost started talking with her tongue still inside his mouth, which came out as she said, “No baby it’s Momma’s turn, m-member?” Dottie’s hand moved Silk’s off Pete’s dick then dropped to her knees and gobbled him inside her mouth. All of a sudden Silk’s eyes were staring doe-like into Pete’s and her lips were pressing against his, he r tongue forced his mouth open. There was difference in the pussy smell on her mouth. It was as if Dottie had wiped herself with scented toilet paper.

While Silk swirled her tongue around Pete’s he wrestled with hers in kind. It was automatic when his right hand went to Dottie’s head and he laced his fingers in her hair, guiding her head forth and back on his erection. He wasn’t surprised when Silk’s hand joined his on Dottie’s head, completing the triune action of the ménages.

At the same time Silk’s free hand clutched his butt he opened his eyes and saw Clay behind the grill, smoke billowing from the grill where the steaks were leaking fat in the fire. Feeling at loose ends with an unoccupied hand Pete pulled up the hem of Silk’s dress, smoothed his hand up the inside of her thigh and reached the lips of her pussy, sliding his finger in the wet, silky groove. When she sighed Dottie slid her head off Pete’s cock and murmured, “Isn’t my baby’s pussy the silkiest thing ... just like her name, hmm?”