Slapped Upside the Head, Pt. 02

Slapped Upside the Head

Part 2: Buying In, Taking Responsibility

From part 1: In fact, why would two women who fucked strangers more times per month than their husbands want to reconcile with their husbands? Again, what the hell?

And yet, he and Danny knew it was coming, like an F5 tornado for a trailer park.

****

As soon as they announced their engagement, Rita's dad demanded protection for her trust, and required separated bank, savings, and investment accounts, fearing Danny's fledgling company would go belly-up. DMc, LLC was born a limited liability corporation, with Daniel Kirk McMillan as the sole proprietor. Neither Rita nor her dad paid any attention to the business he was growing, but the 'affordable housing' contract with Dallas was steady money. It also grew his reputation for good work done quickly and within contract parameters, and soon he had another contract to build more housing for Dallas.

Then a hotel of a major chain, a performance hall for a nearby school district, several buildings on the joint military base at Fort Worth, and before he knew it, he was hiring craftsmen and construction workers, and executing leases for equipment, for the fourth time.

At that point, he gave up on the 'owner-operator' job, hired a third office manager and a CFO, and then found the COO he wanted. They didn't get those titles, though, because he wanted the company to be as flat as possible, in keeping with the teachings of W. E. Deming that he had studied and internalized in college, and implemented as core values of his company, even back when it was only the five of them.

Demands and proposals flowed upward in D-Mac, as the employees called it, and he was responsible for providing them with whatever they needed. He had questioned a few orders, proposed changes, and the need for certain equipment a few times, but each time the explanation had been solid, and he quickly signed off.

Of course, being onsite every day eliminated the disconnect that plagues too many larger businesses, and his COO - Roberto Flores - continued that critical practice at least part of four days each week. The other day he was in the office, coordinating with the office managers and the new CFO/accountant, Cindy Belvin. Cindy was single; a tall, long-legged blonde with a nice ass and small boobs who looked like she could hurt you in bed! But Danny didn't fish in the company pond, although she was a temptation, even when he was married.

Over the last thirteen months he focused on acquiring new contracts, including the crown jewels that would last five years, and might result in even larger contracts! In the end, he won both, and favorable contracts were signed. If his people didn't mess up, and he was confident they wouldn't, they would be fittingly compensated with even better benefits for the foreseeable future, and his accounts would prosper.

The $6.2 million certainly wasn't pocket change for Danny, and it did dent his acquisitions account pretty good. But for five years, he had driven the same pickup and worn work clothes, except when meeting with potential clients. His only extravagance was his wife, to whom he had given a credit card with a $100,000 limit, and leased whatever expensive vehicle fits her current lifestyle. Right now, that was a Mercedes Benz luxury SUV, the lease for which he had abrogated effective tomorrow. That would also be fireworks worth observing, if it didn't require being in the same area code with her!

He knew they would find him, but he'd already enjoyed a few days of peace, and wasn't too stressed when good old Daddy Warbucks called his new phone. It started off civilly, with him thanking Danny for the video featuring his wife, and commenting, "We had an agreement that we both could play discreetly and safely, but your video proves she isn't abiding by it. That said, Danny, Rita loves you. She wants to bear your children, and sit in swings watching the sunset in your golden years.

"I blame it on her mother and sister, who I've learned have been doing this for years. She was lonely because you were gone all the time, and she gave way to familial persuasion and temptation. She swears to me, her dad, that if you take her back, she'll never let anyone but you touch her again!

Her dad had some clout around OKC, where the divorce was filed, so Danny overcame his dislike enough to calmly say, "Wayne, did you listen to the conversations? Go watch the videos again, and this time listen to the conversations. The three women demeaned and ridiculed their three men in about every way you can, from lack of brains, to being wimps, to sexual failings, and, in the hotel room of that last film, they recounted when this began years ago, and why.

"If, after listening to that, you still feel I should give her another chance, call me and we'll talk. But you won't. No one with any self-respect would ever put up with the contempt she, and the others, displayed toward their husbands! Do what you will with your wife, but don't try to convince Bill and I to take ours back - that will not happen!

"The pre-nuptial agreements your attorneys crafted, and all four of us signed, are the guidelines by which these unions will be dissolved, just as you planned. They walk away with their trust funds and whatever else they brought to the union, and that's all.

"However, I've added $100,000 for each year Rita and I were married if she will sign within a month. That's the sum total Rita is getting, and if she tries to fight me, or if Claudia tries to fight Bill, those tapes might make it into the public domain, where they will be seen by your friends, competitors, and clients!"

I took a deep breath to calm down, and asked, "Are we clear now?"

"Yes, I understand. But you can believe my attorneys are digging hard for any error they made in crafting that damn pre-nup! Rita deserves a part of that business you built with her support, and I'm going to get it for her, video be damned!"

"That spoiled shit deserves nothing, and you damn well know it! After the first year, she was in Oklahoma City as much as she was here, and she never showed any interest in my business, much less support my tired ass while I labored long hours to build it!

"She didn't work, but she had a housekeeper and a cook! I gave her everything she wanted, from clothes and jewelry to cars and trips to exotic locations. She apparently believed that leeway included fucking everything with a cock, too! So don't think for a minute I won't ruin your family name along with her! I know shit about you that would get you removed as Chairman of your company, and trustee of the family estate! Hell, it will get you locked up!

"So fuck you, old man! You married a slut and raised sluts - that's on you! I leased one for a while, but that's over whether you like it or not, so shut the fuck up and go away, or suffer consequences you won't survive!"

After a bit of sputtering, he replied, "And to think I thought you were too soft to succeed in business!

"I'll look your offer over, and Bill's - he's with you, I assume - and get back to you. And fuck you, too!"

Roberto confirmed they had a small crew that just finished an apartment building, and said they had a month before their next project began. It was one of Danny's favorite crews, and he asked Sara, one of the office managers, to get them housing in Chance for a month, beginning in four days.

There was only one motel, but she found a luxury house on a hill overlooking town with five bedrooms and baths on VRBO, and rented it for a month. That meant the five-man crew would each have a bedroom, and a backyard pool. The owner explained that they bought the house because he and his wife intend to move to Chance next July, before school starts, and renting it via VRBO seemed a good way to put money on the mortgage without worrying about it getting torn up.

Road builders, fence builders, welders, and brush removal crews were advertised in the paper, but claimed to be booked a long ways out. Plumbers and electricians? Maybe in a few months.

I was so frustrated I complained to Charlie, who made a few calls, offered bonuses for starting within a week, and teased Danny about his poor business skills when they accepted.

"Up here in the hills, it ain't what you know, it's who you know and how well you barter! But I'll vouch for these boys and girls, and once they've worked with you, that won't be a problem moving forward."

"Girls?" Bill asked.

"Yep. Miss Maddy, the woman that operates the bulldozer with the roller-chopper is the best around, and Grace, the welder, lays the prettiest bead you ever saw. Grace shows her work at the craft fairs, but she was on vacation with her kids and hubby during our last one. They're good looking women, too, which you'll see when they show up next week."

Bill's stomach growled, which reminded me I was starving. "I don't hear Kay and don't smell anything cooking - is she not around?"

"Once a month she goes off galivanting with some girlfriends, so she won't be back until dark. Load up in my truck and I'll introduce you to original pit barbeque, Hill Country style.

We were close to town when Charlie turned the conversation back to the BBQ joint. "They've been in business since the 1950s, so their meat ain't bad! Take a gander at their 'celebrity board' with pictures of all the famous people who've eaten there, including Ray Price and the Cherokee Cowboys. Who, by the way, used to drive out of their way to eat barbeque here."

He then teased my partner, "Sorry, Bill, but none of them were actually Cherokee. Or cowboys, for that matter. Most were members of Hank Williams' Drifting Cowboy Band, and I'll bet you didn't know old Ray started out as a veterinarian!"

Bill replied that he was eager to try the barbeque, and asked what kinds of meat they had. "You'll see it all, in just a minute," Ken replied, and pulled up in front, ignoring the signs to the parking lot in back. We got out, got in line, and looked over the offerings on the grill of the twenty-foot long, six foot wide pit. A guy was carrying hot coals from the fire pit, which was a tall, enclosed metal structure shaped like a football with the bottom cut off. He tossed the coals through a little door on the end, away from the meats, put his shovel away, and came over to the line. "Can I help you?" he asked.

I was overwhelmed by the offerings! I recognized pork and beef ribs, brisket, pork loin, and chicken, but not the other meats. When we walked away, he followed us inside with a tray mounded with barbequed meats, including goat, lamb, and bacon wrapped jalapeños stuffed with brisket. I paid - it was over $100, including the potato salad, Cole slaw, drinks, and apple cobbler - but we got free beans, bread, onion slices, pickles, and there were jars of pickled jalapeños on the table.

"Charlie, I've got to know - what wood makes this kind of bark on the brisket?" Bill asked. "That's the best tasting bark I've ever had!"

"Post oak and mesquite," he answered. "Walk around back and you'll see stacks of it."

"So don't roller-chopper all the mesquite and oaks on the place? Save it for barbequing?" I laughed in response.

We ate until we were sick, and still took a sack full home with us. Thanks to Charlie, we also met a score or more of men and women, some eating there, some taking it home. As promised, it was amazing Q, but I seriously needed a nap after the gut overload. Turned out we all did.

Just before we left their house late that evening, after a few card games and beers, Kay came home on a wine high, and blew her cover. She was giggly, fidgety, full of stories, and what could best be called effervescence. After a half-hour of being entertained by her, Charle leaned over and whispered "See why I married her? This is the way she used to be, but hasn't been since our kids moved so far away. Maybe she's adopted you two banditos."

She might have, but that was a hug to remember when we left!

We drove to San Angelo in Bill's truck the next day and bought him all the tools and equipment he would need, as well as custom paints I had chosen (with Kay's approval). He also needed hardware and supplies, so we got those too.

There were other things we needed, including something like a hazmat suit, to clean out the barn; Amazon was delivering the white suit Friday. I was the head of and only member of that crew, but I bought another, in case I found someone hungry enough to help me in there. Hell, I was planning to take my shotgun with me, just in case. Dark, scary place full of bats and varmints, and who knows what else!

Friday afternoon late, after we'd finished our preparations for next week, Bill came over with a grin on his face. "Guess who just called?"

"With that grin, maybe Claudia? Just kidding! Don't blow up on me! I have no idea who!"

"Remember Tricia, from your girl gang? She's going to visit her grandmother in Brownwood Saturday, but wants to come down here that evening and spend the night - with me!"

I congratulated him, but I was jealous. You'd think that, out of six, one would have given me a call by now!

He went back to the trailer to begin cleaning up; I went back and called my esteemed friend Lyndon on his cell phone. I hadn't gotten around to calling him before, but I knew he and a mixed group from his office went to a bar after work on Friday, so his wife wouldn't be along.

We exchanged greetings and salutations, he took his phone to a quieter area near the restrooms, and asked me how things were going. "Not that bad," I replied, "but I'm calling to get some information I just received verified. How long have you and our other friends been fucking my wife? And don't say you haven't - I have photos and video!"

Lyndon had played cards with me, and had never caught me bluffing; not that I hadn't, but I'd never been caught. He hesitated, and I warned, "These pics and vids are queued up and waiting; if I don't get a truthful answer from you, I'm sending them to your wife and parents! 5-4-3-2..."

"Wait! Okay, we have enjoyed her favors a few times, but you were too busy to care, so it didn't cost you anything! She's just so sexy, and she came on to us, and we weren't strong enough to tell her no!"

"So, how long has it been going on, and which one of you took the videos and photos that I received samples of in my email?"

"Shit, I don't remember exactly when! I remember you were working on that first round of affordable housing for Dallas, if that helps. Chris took the videos, but he shared them with all of us! I don't know how you got samples."

"You have five minutes to get the entire bunch to me. I don't care what you do with them after that, but I want them as backup if she doesn't sign the divorce papers by April 15."

"If I do, you won't send anything to my wife, right?"

"Not if you send me everything, and give me some detail on when and where they were taken."

In my furious brain, I told him 'Believe that if you want, dumbass! But if she doesn't sign and I file for adultery, all five of you will be named and the videos and photos will be entered into evidence anyway! And, since our friendship means nothing, why should my word matter when it comes to you and the others? You all fucked me over; now it's your turn!'

I didn't say it, but it was true!

I went outside, fed Chase, and got into my pickup. I was pissed off, and I needed beer and companionship. I found both at the craft brewery, where Kayla was glad to see me and immediately poured our favorite dark beer! I say 'our' because this is her special concoction, and we both love it.

I'd also like to taste the special concoction at the triangle of those skintight jeans she was wearing. Being taller - 5'8" or so, and slender - 140 pounds, maybe - there was a gap between her legs that allowed me, and everyone else, to see a place you usually only see when they spread their legs for you. Anyway, I found it kind of sexy last time, and very much so this time.

Sitting at the bar, I could watch her running around behind the bar and out into the room. She had a higher, tighter ass than I remembered, and plumb-size titties, but her frame was narrower and more athletic than curvy. She knew I was watching, and gave me plenty of opportunities to assess.

Curly brown hair cut shoulder length, a nice face with strong, Germanic features - all in all, not half bad! A solid 7.5, and although it wasn't close to closing time, I decided she would do.

I used to be pickier, but college took that out of me. The nines who thought they were tens, and thought that fucking them should be such a thrill they didn't need to participate, about cured me of that search. Then there were the 6s and 7s who fucked your brains out with great enthusiasm; they cured what was left of my search for the perfect 10.

Well, the sevens, and a 50 year-old who took me under her wing and tutored me until I got it right. She was outstanding for her age, but barely a 6 if put up against the 19 year-olds I had been enjoying. Still, being helped to understand the mysterious female body, being given positive reinforcement when I got it right and gentle correction when I didn't, made her a ten in my diary. I was sorely disappointed when she found Mr. Right and left her star pupil (her words) behind.

Anyway, what I saw in Kayla was a mixture of a hot nature and a bad attitude about being fucked over by hubby and misused by more than a few other boys and men in her life. She'd be a good fuck, IMO, but then what? Not sure she'd go for fuckbuddies, and she's not my next life partner, so I thought I'd just watch and speculate, in case she suggested fuckbuddies.

The words came from over my right shoulder. "Aren't you Charlie and Kay's boarder? I saw the way you handled that mess at the dance last weekend, and wanted to thank you, on behalf of all other girls and women those assholes have molested!"

I got turned around about half-way through that opening gambit, and I had to clamp my mouth shut to keep it from hanging open. It wasn't that she was a sophisticated ten; no, she was a country beauty with long, silky blonde hair that reached her leather belt in back, wearing a tight tee-shirt with a picture of the long haired singer and WWWD - What Would Wille Do?

Her jeans weren't as tight as Kayla's, but she had curves everywhere Kayla didn't, and the belt was necessary to cinch the jeans around her small waist. Her waist probably called for a 4/5, but her butt and legs needed the 7/8. The blue eyeshadow above her cornflower blue eyes was the only makeup I could see. I reassessed, and decided, "County Gorgeous, with an overlay of innocence - not numerically rate-able."

That instant attraction should have sent me running, but she seemed so guileless I got stupid. "I'd give the credit to the posse of young men from Chance who hunted the predators down and dealt with them, the EMTs who took care of her on the way to the ER, and the doctors and nurses who helped her recover. But if you want to believe I did something to help, I'll accept your gratitude.

"Now, who are you, and who are you with?"

She pointed at a table and started drifting that way. "I'm Brooklyn, and I'm here with my friends Carrie and Sherry. I turned 21 last weekend, so they brought me here to have a legal beer in a real beer joint!"

I chuckled. "That you think this is a real beer joint and not a craft brewery tells me all three of you are 21, and only recently reached that age. Am I right?"

She smiled in agreement before introducing me to her friends, both of whom were different shades of country pretty. "Would you like to sit with us?" Brooklyn asked.

"Well, of course, but, if you are all really 21, I'll buy you your first legal beer in a real craft brewery, and your friends one too, if they'd like. Everyone's really 21, right?"

They eagerly nodded yes, and I added one more warning. "I think Kayla knows everyone in town of legal age, but you may have to show your IDs if she doesn't know you, okay?" They nodded again, so I asked what kind of beer, knowing they had no clue.

They didn't, so I said I'd bring a sampler so they could try each kind before I bought a round.

Kayla looked amused as I approached. "Hot young chicks tempting the old man?" she asked, but tempered that with, "I know Brooklyn from the store where she works. She's a good kid with a tough homelife, and she really is twenty-one, by a week. I also know Carrie, whose mother is on her third or fourth husband, and Sherry, who comes from a good family. She goes to Angelo State; the other two work around here, trying to raise enough money to go to cosmetology school, trade school, or something else they can envision themselves doing.

"Brooklyn is smart and athletic; she ran on a state winning relay two years ago, and graduated in the top ten percent. But her slutty, alcoholic mother constantly drags her down, calls her stupid and worthless, and tells her she'll amount to nothing, so she lacks the confidence to apply for scholarships and grants she eligible for, and works in a minimum wage job thinking someday she'll have enough to move away from mom, who is probably stealing her money as fast as she earns it."

She poured the sampler while she talked, and by the time she finished talking, Brooklyn had gone from 'Country Girl I'd Love to Fuck' to 'Country Girl I need to help.'

Most of the beers made them make a face, or shiver, but Brooklyn settled on the house specialty that I liked, and the other two liked the Ale. Surprised the shit out of me - I figured the Light Blonde, but all three hated it. Now I had a dark beer drinker and two ale drinkers to oversee, and I wasn't about to take them home drunk.

There was a food truck out back, they hadn't eaten yet, so we went outside and I bought them food to slake their hunger, and help absorb the potent brews.

There was a jukebox stashed in a weatherproof shed, and they wanted to dance. I declined on most everything but the country and classic rock, so they danced their hip hop and pop together, and I took turns dancing to real music with them. They were 21 to my 29-going-on-30, and we were the better part of a generation apart, and, given their naivete, a full generation. But we managed to have a good time with only one more round being ordered.

The surprising thing to me was the lack of young males in the side-by-side brewery, winery, and distillery, or out back where there was food and music. Lots of folk over forty, and many of those were over 65, but not many young people. Strange, given the limited entertainment options of which I was aware.

When I was loading them into Sherry's car, Brooklyn asked, "If you aren't busy tomorrow night, would you like to join us at the movie? It has great reviews, and everyone is talking about how good it is on social media tonight."

I started to laugh, but she was serious, and, realistically, I didn't have anything else to do anyway, so I said yes, and asked where should I pick them up. They talked for a moment, and then asked if I would pick them up at Sherry's house.

"Okay, where is that?"

"Follow this FM road a mile, and turn left on private road called, "Owens Lane." I live in the only house on that road, about a half mile down. If you give me your number, I'll send you a pin."

I hesitated, and then told them, "This is a number I don't want getting out, so if I give it to you, you can't share it with anyone, okay?"

I spent Saturday morning fixing and servicing the tractor and shredder, and had them hooked up before I ate my sandwich and chips. After lunch, I shredded wherever I could without getting into the thick, thorny brush. I got the center of the roads done, but it was going to take the roller chopper to clear the brush along the roads. After that, I could shred, but not now.

There were two old fields with some promise, but the most promising was the overgrown field that commenced behind the barn and ran a quarter mile north. It was about 200 yards wide, so plenty big enough to raise a nice vegetable crop in the spring and oats in the fall, like Charlie and Kay. I planned to have the fencing crew enclose half of it with a deer proof fence, but I needed to get it ripped up by a dozer, and then plowed, raked, and disced first. I had the implements, but did I have the time to get it done for this growing season? Probably not, but I could plant a nice fall garden, with a little extra work.

Tricia and Bill met me at the RV, and she laughed when she saw me. Straw hat, long sleeve khaki shirt and pants, and work boots; I looked like hell and smelled worse, and knew it. They invited me to clean up and go to Fredericksburg with them to some festival. I declined. "Sorry, but I have a date with three young hotties tonight: a blonde, a brunette, and a ginger. They picked me up at the brewery yesterday, and asked me to be their date tonight."

With a straight face I continued, "I don't know how to handle all three, but they say they have a plan, so I guess we'll see."

Tricia shook her head without amusement. "I have a few friends that are going to be disappointed about you dating while you're still married."

I started to be nasty and remind her that Bill is still just as married as I am, but instead I proposed, "Why don't you take her to the movies here before you go, Bill. Maybe then she can explain to her gang why you and I consider our marriage contracts null and void."

With that I turned away and went inside to clean up and get dressed for my hot foursome. While I was getting dressed, Bill called out, "Danny, she wants to see it now, so we can go on to the festival."

"Fine with me; turn it on."

He did, and when I walked through the living room to leave, I heard Tricia. "OH MY GOD! I never dreamed anyone could do that? How is that even possible? And why would you want to - that's disgusting!"

I chuckled as I left and wished I could watch Rebecca's face when Tricia told her about it. Hell, I might just give Tricia a copy so she can show them, in return for her filming her friends watching! Talk about a wakeup call!

My dates were in their party dresses and heels, probably because Brooklyn and Carrie only had one nice set, and Sherry went along with them. Majorly overdressed for the old theater, but I praised their dresses and their looks, and loaded them into my pickup for the short ride to town.

The tickets were $4 each, the hot dogs and 32 ounce drinks were $2 each, as was a tub of popcorn. We shared two tubs of popcorn, and we each had a chili dog with chips and a large drink, with candy for dessert. Cheapest dinner and a movie of my life, and there were four of us!

I did notice that there were a lot of high school and college age students there, and they were looking at my three dates and me with uncertainty. I escorted my girls into the theater, walked halfway down, ushered Brooklyn in, and seated myself between Brooklyn and Carrie. They might have been labeled poor white trash in high school, but they were with a nice looking older man, and they looked mighty fine in their little dresses.

The girls looked jealous, and the boys envious. Perhaps they all misjudged the poor girls wearing worn Walmart clothes to class.

The romantic comedy was well acted and actually quite funny. Of course, all the characters found their one and only and lived happily ever after, which my girls loved. I couldn't break their young hearts yet, so I kept my story to myself.

Sherry had to go back to college tomorrow, and the other two had the early shifts at work, so I took them back to Sherry's and told them they were the best and hottest dates I'd had in a long time. That earned me a peck from Sherry, a hesitant kiss from Carrie, and a wet kiss with a little tongue from Brooklyn. She sent me a thank you text on the way home, so I would have her number too. I thought that was cute, and she was pretty, sexy, and available. The problem was, I was afraid to encroach on someone as vulnerable as she.

Sunday we went to church and out to eat lunch afterwards with Kay and Charlie. We met a lot of new people, and the sermon was thought provoking, so I considered this time well spent. On the way home, Kay turned to face us and said, "We watched the movie, and all I can say is God Bless you both! Those three women are without redeeming social value, and should be shot! You can't do that, so protect your assets from them - they deserve nothing from you, and you need to make sure they don't get anything! We will help if we can, so don't be afraid to ask."

Bill and I were at the homeplace early Monday morning. I could see the value in ATVs out here, even with roads, so I ordered three. Unfortunately, that meant I needed to clean out the barn and fix it up to have a place to store them. I pulled a trailer of Charlie's up to the wide barn doors, dug the door bottoms out of the dirt, and worked them open.

Flying creatures evacuated first, by the hundreds, followed by a variety of varmints and critters I didn't recognize while they were running, snarling, hissing, and growling! There were others who refused to vacate, and threatened me for trying to move them and mess up their habitats, but I had a pole lamp that lit the whole barn up, and a shotgun I fired as a warning. Most left then, but something that hissed refused to leave his spot behind an old bale of hay. I yanked the hay bale away with my left hand, and pointed my shotgun with my right, but the hissing monster turned out to be a possum.

I poked and prodded it with an old rake, but it just kept hissing and showing teeth. Finally, it sullenly made its way to and through a hole under the wall. Closing that would be job one, after I hauled all the useless crap in here to the city dump!

Of course, once I started cleaning up, it wasn't all crap, so I fell way behind in finishing my work.

After we got back to the trailer and RV, Bill said, "I know the crew is inbound, but I need a roustabout to go get things, help with some of the tedious work, bring tools, etcetera, and the crew won't change that. It's slowing me down too much doing it all myself!

"And by the way - when is your electrician coming? I don't like the way lights dim if I run too many tools."

Ignorning the electrician question because I didn't know the answer, I replied, "I could use help myself - that barn is a much bigger job than I thought, and we've got the crew, the road builders, and the lady with the dozer and roller chopper all showing up this week, which will tie my hands even more!"

And then it hit me - Brooklyn and Carrie were working minimum wage jobs without benefits. What if I hired them to help, paid them what our unskilled workers get, and paid for their insurance? They might jump at the chance. I sent a text to Brooklyn and asked her to call me after work. A second after I sent it, I realized I needed to head off the wrong conclusion and sent a second that said, "I might have jobs for you and Carrie."

I got a thumbs up with '4 ok?" I returned the thumbs up, and went back to tell Bill. He was skeptical about a hot 21 year-old being his helper, but he did need a helper. "One of them is calling me after work at 4. I'll put it on speaker, and we can listen. If they are interested, we can meet with them when we're all available."

We were both fagged out by four anyway, so we sat on the ATVs in the shade of an oak on top of a hill, got a connection, and propositioned Brooklyn. I made sure she understood these were temporary jobs that they might be able to turn into permanent if they were reliable, had a good work ethic, and were willing to learn. She squealed, gave a little scream, and I could almost see her jumping around in glee.

Bill grinned at her response, and laughed out loud when Carrie chimed in with more sounds of delight, before saying she was ready to start! Her job was so menial she didn't even have to give notice, but Brooklyn felt like she needed to stock shelves on Thursday before she left, and asked about Friday. I approved her for Friday and Carrie starting tomorrow. They thanked Bill and me, and I hung up.

"This is going to be an experience, isn't it? They sound like teens. And, old buddy, on a scale of 1-10, how hot do you rate each one?"

"Well, not to objectify women, but Carrie's face is a solid 8, her body is 8.5, and so is her personality, although there is more I need to tell you about both, after I finish objectifying them.

"Brooklyn has the attributes to be a nine facially, a 9.5 bodily, and I'm not sure in terms of personality because she lacks confidence and has repressed her personality around me.

BUT... and this is my tale: both are from shitty homes! Brooklyn's mother is slutty alcoholic/drug user, according to a good source. Apparently, as her looks faded, she resented and verbally abused Brooklyn. Her classmates seemingly ignored her, or maybe demeaned her in the early grades but acknowledged her academic and track abilities in high school while basically shunning her.

I don't know how smart she is because she's so beaten down, but she graduated high school in the top 10% and plans to use what little money she saves for cosmetology school. Does that clarify things?

"In my opinion, her confidence is an inch deep, maybe less, but she's maintained her self-respect."

He nodded sympathetically, and I changed girls. "I don't know much about Carrie's academic or athletic prowess, but from what I heard, she spent her youth trying to stay out of the clutches of her three stepdads and momma's many other lovers, maybe not always successfully, and saw a lot of drug and alcohol abuse.

"She should be a wounded bird, but seemed surprisingly grounded during my short time around her. Based on the sweet good night kiss she gave me after my three-girl date, she's probably ripe and ready, or maybe she's just looking for someone to treat her well. I don't know.

"My third girl is a junior at Angelo State named Sherry, and I suspect she and her parents try to help Brooklyn and Carrie. Steer them the right way, and encourage them, you know?

"Believe me, Bill; this isn't my cock overruling my brain, though when you see them you may doubt that. My reading is that they will be excellent, reliable workers, and will appreciate both the pay and the benefits. I know both could use some dental work, and maybe braces, but objectifying again, that won't push them up much on the scale because their natural beauty, beaming smiles, happy attitudes, and tight, shapely bodies already have them so high.

"I'm not going to tell you to leave them alone, but we need to consider their backgrounds before turning them into fucktoys, or something equally abhorrent. In my opinion, they need a lot of direction, encouragement, and maturity before they are ready to be equal bed partners, or even fuckbuddies."

Bill chuckled and opined, "You do have a knack for finding hot women. Neither have any of Daddy Warbucks' blood, do they?"

Both girls went back to their jobs to tell their bosses. Carrie's boss's response was a shrug and her final paycheck, so she was starting tomorrow. Brooklyn's was to offer her marginally more money, and then get mad and call her an ingrate when she turned him down. He marched to the office, cut her final check, and told her to get the hell out! So she was also starting tomorrow.

We went back to the camp, took showers, and invited Kay and Charlie to go out and eat with us, at a place of their choice. Charlie was ready when we drove up, and offered us a beer. Classy and classically lovely Kay was ready before we finished the beers, and she picked the place.

"There's a new Italian food place downtown, and the owner, chefs, and manager are real Italians! We've been wanting to try it but haven't made it yet, so let's all try it together!"

The food was truly delicious, causing a discussion among us about how they were acquiring the herbs and spices that created the tantalizing tastes we weren't used to. Our praise brought the chef/owner out, but he just smiled at our questions about his suppliers.

"Trade secrets! But I will admit we grow as many as we can, and order the others from back home, where my sister has a pizzeria and restaurant many times larger than this! I hope someday to have such a place in one of your big cities, but I do love living and working here in our little town, and don't plan to leave anytime soon. So come back to see us - we have lunch specials and pizza specials, and we have an app that makes it easy to order ahead or have it ready for pick up!"

Or something like that. His accent and inflections made my head spin, but that's what I got out of it.

After a heaping cone of gelato, we went for a walk around the square and did some window shopping. The girls seemed to have work jeans and shoes, but I didn't know about long sleeve work shirts, or anything else they may need. Kay wondered at my interest at the western wear shop windows, so I came clean on who we had hired as go-fers.

Her first look was quizzical; perhaps trying to ensure her impressions of us weren't wrong. When she decided we weren't going to use the little things as sex toys, she jumped in with suggestions. "For the dirty, nasty work you're doing and will be doing, the lumber and hardware store is your best bet. First time you have to make a run there, take them along and let them pick some work shirts, pants, socks, and boots. And straw hats! You can call it part of your benefits package, or let them pay you back after they get paid."

She sighed. "They are absolutely darling girls, but they are pure small town dumbos! By that I mean gullible and guileless! Think of the song Delta Dawn, where the traveling salesman seduces and abandons Dawn, and she keeps waiting for him to return and take her away!

"Well, maybe not that bad, but I worry about them. They were both good students, but had no social life. I attribute that to their no-good mothers and the male trash they have at the house all the time!

"Kids here don't want to 'go' with poor white trash, which describes their mothers but not their girls. Besides, I'm sure the parents from the 'better families' steered their kids away from Carrie and Brooklyn too. I wouldn't say they were exactly looked down on because they are smart, pretty, and both are athletic - Carrie played softball, Brooklyn ran track, and medaled at state. But from what I heard, the only ones that wanted to date them were older guys and the aggressive high school boys that were out for the same things the older guys were - I think you know what that is.

"If you want, I can help you get them some decent clothes for work, and maybe some new casual clothes so they won't always be wearing the same thing."

I told her we'd take her up on the offer for casual clothes and maybe some dress clothes, as soon as we got things figured out, including whether they could cut the work and be reliable. She laughed. "These girls were cleaning house, cooking, and doing laundry when they started kindergarted! They've done more menial labor than Texas convicts before civil rights, and they won awards for perfect attendance at school, in spite of no one to wake or feed them and their siblings, and no car to take them!"

Bill chuckled, "Then steppin' and fetchin' for me shouldn't be a problem, but I doubt either has ever encountered something like the barn Danny and his helper are going to tackle this week!"

It was raining straight down early the next morning, so I sent a text saying we would pick them up and go get supplies, and asking where to meet them. "Can you come by and pick us up? Carrie is with me because we were going to use mom's old car, but it wouldn't start. I was about to text you."

A pin arrived; I followed the map to a rundown old house in far the north side of town. Not the best neighborhood, but the nearest neighbor was several blooks away, unless someone was living in the abandoned trailers that were falling apart. You never know, but for some people shelter at night is all they want, or can afford. Or to avoid 'la migra' if they are undocumented, as a lot of construction, lawn care and landscaping, and agriculture workers are.

"Day workers" used to congregate on certain street corners in the North Dallas suburbs, and those of us in construction, or other businesses that can use unskilled laborers, would drop by and select one or a few. We hired a lot of workers from south of the border after learning they were far from unskilled, and they always produced documentation we could use if ICE or the Border Patrol dropped by a site.

Which kind of pissed me off. We were paying more than twice minimum wage to beginning workers, plus paid insurance, but ads in every conceivable media went unanswered. Word of mouth, however, worked well, and we developed a workforce others envied, based mainly on referrals. I did have to acquire more Spanish than my high school and college courses taught me, and retrain my ears and brain to take in and process the rapid-fire bursts, but before long they were more proficient in English than I was Spanish, and our mixed language conversations got it done.

Bill was turned in his seat, getting to know the girls, when I got to the hardware, lumber, dry goods, gifts, and who knows what else store. It was more like an old mercantile store than an ACE Hardware store. Though ACE offers a lot of things too, including guns and ammo. But, I learned when I walked inside, so does our mercantile.

I took the girls to the Dickie's work clothes section, and told them that we supply appropriate clothing for new employees, and they should pick five pair of pants, five work shirts with longs sleeves, and a pair of steel-toed boots. They looked both surprised and suspicious. "So you buy clothes for all new workers?" Brooklyn asked.

"When we're putting them to work in the kind of conditions you guys will be in, at least part of the time, yes. Oh, and get a straw hat to protect your pretty faces and your delicate complexions from the sun."

I left them assessing and selecting, though the only choices I saw were denim or khaki. I gave my lumber list to the woman behind the register, and went to the ammo counter. An attractive woman of about 45 wandered over and asked if she could help me. "You sure can! I happen to own a M1 Garand chambered for Springfield 30-06, and I see you have eight-shot clips, which are hard to find."

She smiled. "We have a hunter who also shoots that ammo, so we keep it in stock. How many would you like?

I ordered four clips, a box of.22 shorts, a box of.22 long rifles, and a box of.410 shells. "Have a rat and snake problem?" she asked.

"Rats for sure, and I suspect some rattlesnakes have taken up residence in the barn where the rats are. I leave snakes alone in the pasture, but I don't like living and working with venomous snakes."

"That's for sure, but don't kill the Bullsnakes, King snakes, or Coachwhips by mistake - they eat the rattlers!" I assured her I wouldn't, although they scared the hell out of me when I moved something and they came hissing and slither out, and we laughed at my faked shiver.

She had been appraising me all along, but she suddenly decided she knew who I am. "You're Kay and Charlie's friend! The one that bought the old Hoerster place.

I nodded and she said, "Then I'd recommend a snake charmer for close spaces like a barn, rather than a regular.410. A local guy makes them, and they are well made but fairly cheap. Want to see one?"

It had a 'pistol grip,' although there was a short stock behind it and a forestock under the barrel. The barrel was a bit shorter than my.410 shotgun, but not that much. Camille showed me how to hold and aim it from the right hip, with my left hand on the forestock, and suggested I get another box of shells to practice. I raised an eyebrow at her in question, because, based on cost,.410 shells apparently shoot pieces of gold.

She grinned back and asked, "If you're good with a pistol, probably won't take that many, but shooting from the hip is different than pointing a pistol or rifle, and if you want others to learn to shoot it too, I'd spend the money. Don't want to miss a coiled rattlesnake about to strike someone."

I thought about Bill, Brooklyn, and Carrie, and bought the extra box. Who knows who will be wielding the gun in a dangerous situation.

Bill returned with the painting supplies and hardware about the same time the girls brought their work clothes to the counter. I paid for everything, and was directed around back to pick up the lumber and screen wire for the barn. It had stopped raining, so the boys loaded the longbed pickup without getting wet.

Since it was getting close to time to eat, I stopped by a butcher's shop offering deli sandwiches. I discovered they also had fresh and smoked sausage, dried sausage, and three kinds of beef jerky! I got some of each, and learned that, based on cost, there were also flecks of gold in the seasoning.

We made it down the only road we could travel in a pickup, and I parked under the shade of a thousand-year-old live oak tree between the homestead and barn. Maybe it wasn't a thousand years old, but based on the fact that it covered about a tenth of an acre under its branches, it was old!

We ate the sandwiches and chips, tried the jerky, and drank cold Dr. Pepper before Bill went to his work in the kitchen, I went to the barn, and the girls went into the house to change into their new work clothes. I didn't know which one would work with Bill and which one with me, but Brooklyn appeared in the doorway, stopped to look around, and damn!

Work clothes are practical, tough, and ill-fitting by definition, but somehow Brooklyn made them look like a fashion statement. The jeans weren't tight, but her assets gave them enough definition to make you look, and the denim shirt with snaps bulged under each pocket.

I considered trading her for Carrie so I could concentrate, but she was here, so, "We might as well get started by moving these old straw hay bales to the door and loading them on the trailer." She walked over, watched me pick one up and move it, and took the next in the short stack.

She might be built like a porn star, but she was strong and agile afoot. We had the hay on the trailer by 2 pm, had killed one rattler, and forced the pissed-off possum to leave his or her nest.

There were things stored in the barn that the families that lived here had outgrown, replaced with modern furniture, or simply stored. We started uncovering it, carrying it outside, and cleaning it off, and both of us were oohing and aahing over our treasure trove.

Okay, it was just old stuff from the house, kitchen, and yard, and some of it was just junk, but most of the old stuff was decently preserved and cleaned up nicely with oil or saddle soap. We were having so much fun it somehow got to be quitting time, which we learned when Bill and Carrie came outside. Carrie didn't fill out her work clothes like Brooklyn, but she made them look way better than they should.

We got out another Dr. Pepper and sat down in a circle in four of the old wooden lawn chairs we had uncovered and cleaned. They needed a few screws and some glue, but were safe enough, if rickety. Carrie and Bill filled us in regarding their accomplishments inside, and we did the same for our work in the barn. "Heard the shot," Bill commented. "Was that your new 'snake charmer'?"

"Yep, first shot, DRT! Very useful plaything, which reminds me I want all three of you to practice with it. You never know who might be closest to the gun and who might be in danger."

Seeing the looks the girls gave me, I retreated. "Wait - have neither of you shot a gun before?" They hadn't, so we made time in the schedule tomorrow for them to learn how to shoot the.22, the.410 shotgun, and the.410 snake charmer.

We were discussing travel arrangements for tomorrow when I heard the rumble of trucks coming. The crew from Denton was first, but right behind those guys was the lady pulling the dozer and the damndest contraption I'd ever seen! Bill greeted the dozer operator, I greeted the guys, and then went over to her. She said, "As I told him, I'd have been here earlier but I was worried about the rain, but it wasn't enough to bog me down, and the forecast is good, so here I am. I'll unload the equipment, park the trailer, and be back first thing in the morning."

She took a look around at the crew and the girls, and asked, "You found jobs for those two? How are they working out?"

"Well, today is day one, but Bill said Carrie was a good worker, and Brooklyn had a great first day, in my opinion. They may be sore and want to sleep in tomorrow, but so far, so good."

"I don't think so," she replied, "they are good girls from shitty circumstances, and they need a break. Just understand life hasn't been easy, and take good care of them. I know they are close to your age, but they are babes in the woods."

I nodded and reassured her. "I put them on payroll, with benefits, and I treat my employees well - you can go ask the bunch that just rolled in from Denton if you want references. Yes, they are good looking young women, but I would never take advantage of innocents like them. Feel free to talk to them anytime if you want to keep up with what's going on."

She nodded at me, at least partially satisfied I hadn't hired them to provide sexual services, and said she would; then she unloaded the chopper and dozer, parked the trailer, and drove off with a wave. I was highly impressed; she was about Carrie's size and looked young herself, but she handled that heavy equipment like a pro, and went through the gears on the truck like a driver.

When I got back under the shade tree, the crew members had a DP in hand and were flirting with the pretty girls, who weren't sure how to respond.

The crew chief, Angel (ahn-hail, not angel), looked at me with a little grin and asked, "Say, Bossman, is you wife part Cherokee, like Bill? I'm asking because she's sure been on the warpath this week! From what I hear, she's visited your office and every work site, and threatened everyone there if they didn't tell her where you are.

"We're the only ones that know, but we're all Mestizos, so we ain't scared of some damn Cherokee squaw, even if she has a foul mouth! We told her "no speakie Ingles" and stood there looking stupid. She cussed us and you, stormed off, and threw gravel.

"Having a little trouble at the old teepee?"

Figured I might as well just rip my drawers in front of everyone, so I confessed. "It might be because she's been acting like a squaw in some tribe that shares wives. All those trips home to 'take care of momma? Yeah, she, her momma and..." I looked at Bill, who nodded his assent. "And Bill's wife Claudia, were taking care of the Sooners' starting lineup and some subs, which probably explains their shitty record the last few years!"

Angel was taken aback; two of the crew made a face and mumbled a few oaths en Espanol,' and two looked down while shaking their heads. That was about as expected, but it was the dismayed reactions of Carrie and Brooklyn that caught my attention. They said not one word in front of the group, but I knew we were going to talk about it soon enough, and the trip back to town was soon enough.

In an exasperated voice, Brooklyn began, "Danny, I can't believe your wife was running around on you! You are such a catch; how could she do that to you?"

I chuckled. "Guess she didn't think I was much of a catch. But I'm not alone in my misery; Bill's wife was doing the same thing at the same time in the same places! Now, understand this: neither of us knowingly married a slut! In fact, Rita was surprisingly hard to bed! But when she decided she wanted to play 'hide the salami in all my holes,' she should have told me and filed for divorce, rather than slapping me upside the head with a frozen mackerel with her shameless and humiliating adultery! Hell, I'd have gladly accommodated her, and wouldn't have wasted my twenties with someone that now has me sweating STD results!"

Bill's bitterness was even more evident than mine. "Every one of my friends warned me about her family's reputation, her rich-bitch attitude, and her loose morals, but Claudia swore that was all behind her! We were going to marry, have beautiful children, and live happily ever after! She swore she was off birth control, but I guess it's lucky she didn't get pregnant in the three years we've been married, given all the prospective dads."

"Yeah, I got the same song and dance, with a tweak!" I replied. "She told me, 'Wait one year for your business to grow, and then we'll start having babies and keep going until we have four!' When she still wouldn't get off birth control three years later, after my business took off and we had plenty of money, I should have known. But instead of starting a family, it was always 'better house, better car, more jewelry, a more stable income,' or some BS reason she'd give me! Now I know the real reason - fear the babies would be DNA tested in the hospital!"

Brooklyn leaned up from behind me, patted me on the shoulder, and said, "You should marry some poor girl who appreciates you! Rich people are just mean!"

I figured that was the invitation I wanted to avoid, so I deflected. "So, living in Chance all your life, how much contact have you even had with rich people?"

I heard the girls chuckle and saw they looking at each other in the rear view mirror. This time it was Carrie who spoke up. "When you're raised as poor as we were, everyone but the other 'white trash' kids seem rich. Even when we made friends with richer kids, their parents wouldn't let them have us over to play, much less let their sons date us, and believe me, we've been called worse than 'white trash'!

"Do you mean, as gorgeous as you two are, you never dated?" Bill asked in surprise.

"Well, honestly, kids here don't date much. We meet up somewhere, and, yes, some do hook up. We were never with the 'elites,' but during school and at school events, we were accepted, and we were even invited to hang out sometimes. I mean, we were good students, we participated in sports and UIL stuff, but we weren't cheerleaders or prom queens, or anything like that."

Brooklyn added, "But we were invited to the prom every year, and to the band coronation too, so we weren't that pitiful. The thing that affected both of us was our mothers' reputations as sluts and whores. Since they were, it meant we were, and we got hit on by grown men and older boys who just wanted some pussy! Both of us even got hit on by mom's boyfriend or live-in!"

"It's hell on a girl to have to lock and bolt her bedroom door at night, and tell the drunk or drugged-out man banging on it NO!" Carrie said. "Brooklyn got her cheap cell phone 'for emergencies only' when she was eleven, and I got one when I turned twelve.

"Until then I was a string bean no one noticed, but as soon as I grew a butt, I drew a lot of 'unwanted attention' from momma's men. That happened to Brooklyn earlier, but she couldn't talk her mom into a phone until she threatened to tell the school counselor about the unwanted attention and touches she was getting from mom's boyfriend, who was supporting them. She relented, and got the money from Brooklyn's wanna be abuser.

"After we threatened to call 9*1*1 on a man, he usually would quit knocking, or making nasty comments and touching, unless he was really messed up on something. I called once: mom nearly lost me to social services, and her dickweed boyfriend spent a couple of nights in jail, got a warning about being labeled a sexual predator, and left town. After that she was more alert and always told her boyfriends the story, so things were better.

"But not for Brooklyn." The way she said that implied more, so I cut my eyes to Brooklyn in the mirror, and Bill shifted so he could see her. "Go on, tell them! They shared their nightmare with you this afternoon!" Carrie insisted.

Brooklyn paled, blushed deep red, and then recounted a night when she got up to get water, after everyone was asleep. She was returning to her room when someone big and strong grabbed her from behind, clamped his hand over her mouth, and carried her back into her room. Someone else closed and locked the door, and then appeared in front of her holding a knife.

She recognized him as her mother's last boyfriend and knew she was in trouble. He was covered in tattoos and was in a criminal biker gang. She had kept her distance, even staying away from the house when she saw his bike, because she knew exactly what the way he watched her meant.

Inches away, his sickly breath made her want to retch, but she stood still while he cut her A shirt up the front, from belly to neck, opened it, held the knife against her breast, pricked her nipple with it, and told her she would lose her nipple if she made a sound, and would be gutted from stem to stern if she didn't do what she was told.

She did what she was told, and lost her virginity to two monsters.

In spite of their warning, she called 9*1*1 as soon as they roared off on their motorcycles, but neither was ever caught, and she became damaged goods in the eyes of the community. This happened two years ago, when she was nineteen. The rural health clinic provided free bi-weekly counseling sessions for a year, which helped her face each day, and all the people who knew about what happened.

She told the story in a matter-of-fact way, but with minimal eye contact. Then they saw her sit up straighter, square her shoulders, look one and then the other in the eyes, and declare, "I'm not proud of that, or of my life so far. But I'm not the 'white trash slut' some people call me, or a victim who needs sympathy! I'm a proud honor graduate of Chance High School, I have a state championship medal in track, and I'm learning how to work and live on my own, while supporting my mother, so she doesn't have to depend on perverts and biker gangsters for money! I survived those two bastards, and I'm going to make something of myself so my kids won't have to go through what I have!"

Moved by her story, but knowing she didn't want sympathy, and appreciating her spunk, I asked, "So, where do you girls see yourselves in five years? Still in Chance working as stockers, shop girls, or waitresses, or do you have loftier ambitions?"

Both bristled, which was good, and then Carrie said, "No, I'd like to go get a college degree and become a nurse, but I may have to settle for the LVN route until I can raise more money. Nurses are in high demand everywhere, so I can always get a job, and I get to help people heal. Ask Brooklyn - I'm good at helping people, like I helped her after she was hurt."

Having recovered from her disclosure, Brooklyn enthusiastically responded, "She is! She's gifted in working with people - I'd love to have her as my nurse if I was hospitalized!"

"And you, Brooklyn? Stocking, or doing something else with that honors seal on your diploma?"

She turned her eyes to the mirror and said, "I want to be a teacher! I was in the PALs program in high school, and I got to help tutor and mentor elementary students. I also helped other high school students in study hall, and I got an award from the faculty for being so helpful to my classmates.

"Like Carrie, it's more a dream than a goal now, because I'm struggling with becoming independent while covering mom's bills and groceries so she can get by on SSI and SNAP."

I was in town on the way to their homes when we passed a Mexican food café a few blocks north of the four-way stop. "Is that place any good?" I asked, and both girls assured me it was very good.

"Would y'all like to stop and eat? I'm buying, and you can each take home a meal for you mother." We all looked like hell after the workday we had, so I expected them to decline and I was going to buy them a couple of plates to go.

But they didn't even flinch! "Sure, that would be great!" one answered, so I circled around the block.

Carrie produced a brush from her purse and used it on her hair; Brooklyn undid her ponytail and reset it a little higher and tighter. Neither reached for make up or even lipstick, and when we got out, they tucked their shirttails in neatly and followed us to the door.

"Must be hard to work all day, run a brush through your hair, tuck in your shirt, and look as good as they do!" Bill whispered. My grunted response said nothing, but conveyed a lot. They might be poor white trash, but they were naturally pretty and unnaturally built.

After steering us to a table in back, close to the tea pitchers and tostado lamps, both went into the restroom, but returned quickly, each with her hair a little more in place. They were friendly with the waitress who immediately appeared and took our orders. We chatted about the town, about work today and plans for tomorrow, and then they informed us we didn't need to come get them or take them home while Miss Maddy was driving back and forth - she would take care of that.

I smiled; she took me up on my challenge, so she really did care about the girls. That made Kayla, Kay, and Maddie, and I wondered how many others were sitting on the sideline helping and hoping.

After we ate, I asked Brooklyn if her mom's car was running now. She said no, it wouldn't crank, so we stopped with the headlights pointed at the front end, opened the hood, and used a flashlight to check the battery; the cables were corroded and loose. Bill took them off; I opened a diet Coke and poured it on the corrosion, and then washed the connectors off. Bill reattached and tightened them, and we told Brooklyn to give it a try. It started right up, but it was easy to tell the engine was on its last legs.

Before we left, I called Bill and the girls over behind my pickup, and warned, "Brooklyn, if you ever hear a motorbike pull up to your house again, or see one parked here when you come home, grab your phone and get the hell out of the house! Run like a track star until you're well away, hide, and call 911. Then call me or Bill. Do whatever you need to do to get away from them, because there's a good chance they will want to teach you a lesson after you called the cops on them after they warned you not to!

"You seem to think it's over, but that's not the way biker gangs work. They figure you became one of them when they initiated you, and they should be able to visit and use you whenever they want. Or, one of them will make you his, and you'll have to travel with them. You have plans, and I'm confident both of you can reach them, but as compelling as your innocence is, it could put you in a position that ruins all your plans."

They wore somber looks as they walked away, as we did.

Wednesday the ranch was a madhouse, because the fence and road crews showed up too. Maddie opened up the main road to the house first, and then took on the road we had opened up with chain saws and clippers. That big chopper/grinder did eat and spit out the brush, prickly pear, turkey pear, and anything else it encountered, leaving a wide area along each road cleared, with debris coating it like living mulch.

The fencing crew did the stuff they could before she made her way along the fence lines, using Charlie and Kay's boundary roads. Danny put the road crew to work on the entry road, which was to be built up, drained, and hardtopped to make it all-weather.

Chase had been staying with Kay and Charlie when we were working, mainly because he didn't like the ATVs at first, and then decided Kay's air conditioning and treats were a better fit for his royal blood than outside heat in the shade. After Charlie warned him that Chase's allegiance was shifting, Danny made him come along in the pickup, and let him help Brooklyn in the barn. The smells were interesting enough, and she was sweet enough, that he was quite happy to be in the heat of mid-spring - about 20 degrees cooler than the heat of summer.

Meanwhile, I was running from contractor to contractor, and also trying to use the front loader on the tractor to winnow out the old switchback road to the river. It was late and the crews had left when I got done. I parked the tractor behind the barn, checked on the Bobcat I'd need tomorrow, drove my pickup back to the homestead to check on Bill.

I found Bill with the two girls, sipping a cold brew under the shade of the big oak tree. "How is it going?"

Bill replied, "Carrie and I got the kitchen done and went to work on the stairs. We should have those done by noon tomorrow, and we'll start on the living and dining room windows. After that, I want to clean the stonework downstairs before we redo the floors, and cleaning the stonework is when we will need more help."

I said okay, and turned to Brooklyn, who was petting the sleeping silver dog with his head resting on her feet. "Chase and I got a lot done too. He was a great help at scaring the critters away and keeping others from coming in, plus he killed several rats and mice. The next steps for me are getting the help I need to install the wire mesh over the windows, and digging a trench to bury the wire and concrete it in place along the base of the walls. Got anyone reliable available tomorrow? My helper is all over the place!"

I nodded in acknowledgement of my failure to be any help, and promised I'd talk to Angel about a couple of guys to install the mesh over the high windows and along the base of the barn walls to keep digging creatures out.

"Did you get anything done?" Carrie teased. "Besides riding around and talking to people?"

"As a matter of fact," I replied, "come with me and I'll show you! And that includes you, you lazy mutt!"

Chase drug himself up with a grunt, then pranced over and jumped in when we loaded up. He put his feet on the wheel well so he could see over the cab and became our sentinel.

I parked on the bluff above the swimming hole and pointed to the zig zag pathway I cleared down to the water. It still had a few big rocks and boulders in bad places, but I was confident I could correct those problems with a small dozer or a Bobcat with a blade.

"Let's go," I yelled as I climbed out, and the others began to unload as well. As soon as I let the tailgate down, Chase unloaded and began prancing and whining. "What's his problem?" Brooklyn asked.

"He smells something, and I think I know what it is," I replied as I turned and started down the freshly cleared pathway I hoped to turn into a small road. We paused at the switchback to take a look at the fish swimming in the shallows near shore, but couldn't identify any but the perch. Meanwhile, Chase was doing his best to catch one, standing still in the water, looking down, and trying to grab anything that moved.

We continued on down to the river and Brooklyn commented on how much better the bank looked being leveled, while Carrie knelt and tested the water.

"Whoa! The temperature is perfect! We should go for a swim!" she exclaimed. Brooklyn giggled, which distracted me from considering doing just that, and Bill started taking off his boots. Skinny dipping in broad daylight, with neighbors living across the river? Probably a bad idea, I decided, but I must have been the only one because boots, socks, and belted jeans littered the shore, and Carrie was wading out in her panties and shirt.

Brooklyn started unbuttoning her shirt, but looked at me. I shook my head; she giggled again and waded out with her shirt half-buttoned. I kicked my boots off, but watched her giggling and trying to stay balanced on the slick, moss covered limestone base. She and Carrie made it out to a small pond in the river, sat on the ledge in front of it, and dangled their legs in the cool water.

Bill looked like a first-time ice skater as he shuffled and minced steps trying to get out to them, and as soon as I made it out a few feet, I looked a lot like him! We did make it, and the girls moved around to give us space on their ledge. They kicked their feet, we talked, and I became distracted by the lovely legs softly kicking up and down. And by the belly showing under Brooklyn's untied shirt.

Fearing my hardening cock would disturb our peace and calm, I stood back up, arranged my boxers better, and said I was going to go check the swimming hole to see if it had silted in or limbs were caught up in it. They climbed out and fell in behind me, which interested Chase enough to abandon his quest for fish and join us.

No limbs, and the bottom was hard limestone when I pushed myself deep enough. It was however deep my body with my arms extended above my head measured, and about 20' wide by 30' long, so a nice swimming hole.

I was soon joined by the others, who stepped into the deep water and started dogpaddling or threading water.

Emboldened by my success, I swam over to the diving/ tree swing pool, and began checking it for logs, limbs, and debris; I wasn't as lucky this time. The log that had washed in was too big to remove by hand, but I figured a tractor could probably pull it out if I attached a chain on the high end and drug it upstream. There was a low area without a bank there, the riverbed was limestone, and the water was relatively shallow. We would need to burn it as soon as it dried, or it would wash back in during the next rise.

Once the log was gone, I felt sure the debris that had filled in behind it would wash away. Now all I had to do was establish a road upriver capable of supporting a tractor for my plan to work, and that meant increasing the space by cutting into the sloping bluff that ran a few yards back from the shoreline, and clearing a space for the tractor to pass around the log, once it was on shore. That would require skill and the kind of macho bravery that wins Darwin awards; in other words, it would be a daunting task.

The girls decided their wet long sleeved work shirts were making swimming and exploring the deep water too difficult, so they whispered among themselves and, as soon as I dove under the water to look for a place to affix the chain, they took them off and laid them on a sunny limestone rock.

The modest white bras and cotton panties showed less than a bikini, but Bill looked as confounded as I did when I came back up and saw them in the shallows laying the shirts out to dry. The problem wasn't the remaining underwear; it was the bodies exposed by removing the shirts. I immediately moved Brooklyn into the ten slot for body, and gave Carrie a point to move up to 9.5. She was smaller and certainly not as endowed, but every body part was sculpted as it should have been.

Bill and I stepped into the deeper water to hide our growing erections, and ogled our helpers. "Damn - I thought Claudia was fine at 21, but she doesn't come close to either one of these!"

I murmured "Rita didn't either!" and pulled the elastic of my boxers up to cover the head of my cock.

Carrie caught our looks, poked Brooklyn, and they spent the next few minutes posing and preening innocently, as if they didn't know we were watching. "Can we encourage them to wear short shorts and bikinis to work, now that it's getting hot?" Bill asked quietly.

"Sure, as long as you can get your work and mine done, because I'll be useless. Those are exquisite young bodies, and I've gone without far too long!"

To exacerbate our problem, in the late afternoon sunlight their cotton panties were semitransparent. You couldn't see their cracks and vaginas clearly, but you could see them. You could also see the hard little knots poking their thin bras.

Both looked good enough to eat right there on the rocks they were taunting us from, neighbors watching or not. In fact, this is probably the most turned on I've been in since my honeymoon, and I fucked Rita on a Caribbean beach then - in full daylight!

I wasn't the only one. "I wonder if those luscious young bodies feel and taste as good as they look," Bill asked sotto voce. "Want to go find out?"

"I do!" I replied just as softly and emotionally, "But there are a lot of reasons not to, so we're going to have to pass, at least as long as they are working for us. So let's stop watching and try to calm these raging hardons."

"Danny," Bill asked as we turned away and paddled into deep water so we'd have to tread water, "if these two are culls, I'd really like to see the other girls in their class!"

I yelled at them to get dressed so we could clean up and go eat something, which they did after stalling and complaining. We waited, and then got out and got dressed ourselves. As far as I could tell, our nosy neighbors didn't see us, so that was one missile we missed.

We didn't make it to town until after dark, however, because Charlie was waiting to invite us to their house for supper and an update on our progress. A simple but delicious meal turned into enjoyable conversations that went on and on, until Carrie yawned, and we realized it was bedtime.

They had been as cute as kittens all afternoon and night, and the Hoersters seemed as taken as Bill and I were. We were going to have a serious discussion after we dropped them off, because Bill and I were tottering on a dangerous ledge that we weren't ready to descend. Fuck, we were still married, if in legal status only!

Carrie was sleeping on her shoulder when we pulled approached Brooklyn's house, and then sped away. "Oh shit!" she cried in fear as I accelerated. "Those bikes hidden in the alley are the ones they were on the night when..."

"It's okay," I interjected, "we're going straight to the sheriff's office and get them arrested!"

Had an experienced dispatcher or deputy been on duty, I'm confident they would have been arrested, but the two rookies turned it into a shit show! First they couldn't find the warrant, then they decided to call for backup using the police radio. Before I could run into the dispatch room and stop them, they broadcast the situation and called for backup from the other deputy on duty, on the radio frequency everyone in the county was tuned to! Including Brooklyn's mother!

The sheriff called on the phone and admonished them, and he was only seconds behind the other deputy when he got to Brooklyn's mother's house, but the bikes were gone. He left the other deputy to deal with the high and hapless mother, and went to the office.

Meanwhile, Deputy Dawg and Clueless were still dithering about what procedure to follow in such a situation! When the sheriff arrived spitting fiery nails, they both peed their pants (figuratively), and then got their tight little assholes reamed by Sheriff Roto-Rooter.

It was fun to watch, though I'd rather have beaten both of them half to death for letting two rapists escape. When he was through with them he profusely apologized to Brooklyn while his two chastised employees went about notifying the DPS and sending out APBs to area law enforcement, and I worried about the consequences of criminal bike members being thwarted twice by their target.

We waited around for a while, until the sheriff came back out and told us, "The bad news is, they are either hidden somewhere around town, or they escaped again, because no one is reporting seeing them. The good news is, the biker gang is being investigated by the state organized crime investigations unit, and due to a combination of other crimes they've committed and the felony rape here, Hernandez and McGown made the Ten Most Wanted list, so their ass is in the hottest water possible. And Brooklyn, I guarantee you this: when caught, they will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law, and the DA can't wait to put your case in front of a Chauncy County jury!

"But for tonight, you need somewhere safe to stay. Somewhere unexpected, where you have protection. Do you have such a place? If not, you can sleep on my couch."

She looked at me, but I was already answering. "Sheriff, she can stay out at Charlie and Kay's place. Between Bill and I we have enough ordinance to fight off a small army, and Charlie has even more. She'll be safe from now until you tell us she can return to her mother.

"Will you look in on her?" Brooklyn asked the sheriff. "I'll worry about her, even though I shouldn't."

"We will, and you can call her. Just don't let her know where you are."

****

To avoid waking Kay and Charlie up at two am, Brooklyn stayed with me that night. After she showered and changed into pajamas, I sat on the sofa and held her while she cried her eyes out, while scheming what I was going to do to Hernandez and McGown when I found them!

When she finally fell asleep on my wet chest, I picked her up and laid her on my bed, with Chase at her foot, put on a dry tee shirt, and then lay down on the lower bunk - with a scattering of shotguns and semi-automatic rifles placed carefully around me, just in case.

All four work crews were going hell-bent for leather when we finally got to the worksite. Everyone greeted us but no one asked where we had been; small town, scanner in every second house and pickup, remember. Brooklyn was treated even more special than usual, and she knew why. When we congregated for lunch under the shade of the oak, as we had taken to doing, she addressed the elephant head on.

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm all right. I promise you all, I'm all right!" That was said as seriously as it could be, but then she teasingly added, "I got to sleep in a luxurious king bed last night, with a guard dog and a guardian with an arsenal around his bunk. I've never felt so safe, until right now, knowing all of you care about me and will help keep me safe if those two assholes show up here.

"Danny and Bill have been teaching Carrie and me to shoot, and I guess the reason is more than snakes and varmints, like they said. Anyway, the assholes made the Top Ten Most Wanted, so they will be ducking and dodging until they're caught."

"Or killed, hopefully!" Miss Maddy contributed, which got a lot of seconds. "But until they do, I suspect we all might want to make sure we're prepared, just in case," she continued. "People like them don't like to be told no, and Brooklyn has done that twice now. I can see a long ways atop my Cat, and you may have the vantage point to see them first, so let's all be alert, and careful."

Charlie and Kay quickly adopted Brooklyn, and invited Chase and I to stay with them too, until things calmed down. Instead of calming down, things got worse late that afternoon. "Mr. McMillan," the sheriff said, "I need to let you, Kay, Charlie, and Brooklyn know that McGown and Hernandez are believed to still be in the county. We have no reason to believe they are hunting Brooklyn, but it's possible. Her testimony, on top of the rest of their crimes, will probably mean life in prison, so who knows what they are thinking.

"So call us if you think anything is off, please. We'll have a deputy riding up and down that road, but you would probably see them before we do."

I immediately informed Bill, and he arrived totting even more arms and ammo. I loaded the M1 magazine with a clip, and pulled the plug on my 12-gauge shotgun before loading it with buckshot. Bill and Charlie were taking similar actions, and Kay had Brooklyn helping her close the blinds and curtains. Chase didn't know what the hell was going on, but he was pacing, sniffing the air, and growling from time to time to scare away whatever it was that had us upset.

And somehow, he knew it was all about Brooklyn. As soon as she sat down, he jumped on the couch beside her, looked at her, kissed her cheek, and laid his head on her lap.

I started to chew him out for being on the furniture, but Charlie stopped me. "It's Kay's couch, and she's the one who taught him to get up there, so just let it be."

Charlie took the watch from nine until midnight, Bill took midnight to three, and I took three until six, when everyone would get up.

Chase chose personal bodyguard, and spent the night lying beside her bed. I thought I heard something about 3:30, so I walked over to her door and opened it quietly. The only thing I heard was a snarl, so I knew he was on duty, even if he appeared asleep.

This was the most conscientiously he had protected anyone since I brought him home while Rita was off galivanting in Oklahoma, and he took an instant dislike to her as soon as she returned. Which proves he's a great judge of the content of a person's character.

Brooklyn and Kay, Danielle, Gina - he liked most women, a lot; but he hated Rita. Enough said.

No disturbances that night, but the next morning, everyone on the job was carrying. I armed Angel, Juan, Armando, Lupe, and Chuy, because driving while Mexican will get you stopped, and you don't want to have to produce your birth certificate and two other forms of ID, plus somehow prove your parents and grandparents were born in the US, and then explain why you're armed. Even though Texas is a constitutional carry state, and your IDs should be enough. Like they are for white people.

When the phone call came from Maddie, we all answered it: males, females, Caucasian Americans, Latino Americans, Cherokee Americans - none of us shrank! Bill and Carrie made their calls from within the shelter of the house, Maddie made hers, and I kept Brooklyn out of sight in the barn.

Maddie tracked Hernandez and McGown when they crossed the river on foot and trespassed on my property. Three of Los Mestizos were clearing brush growing in the river fence by hand, and they 'immediately disappeared like smoke,' Maddy said.

The bikers were no match for Armando, Lupe, and Chuy, who got in position behind and on both sides, and then challenged them being on my property. They whirled around and opened fire on the voice with semi-automatics fitted with bump stocks. Lupe was below the bluff, so the bullets whined ineffectively into the opposite bank, or ricocheted off rocks and boulders.

They would have been all right if they'd stayed put in the brush, but they charged toward the voice for a dozen steps, giving Chuy and Armando open shots. The rules were to disarm if you could, and kill if you couldn't, so they went for the hips and both dropped right there - DRT!. You never heard the like of cursing and threatening by men who couldn't even crawl, and it kept up until Bill, Maddie, and I fired a couple of bursts into the ground they were laying on, and then their rifles were tossed aside like we told them, and the begging began.

In the old westerns they always walked up to the gunman who had been shot and nudged him with their foot, so I nudged Hernandez pretty good in the hip, and Maddy nudged McGown a little harder in his.

When the whining, crying, and threats ended again, we started debated staking them over fire ant mounds, or hanging them upside down from tree limbs over a fire, or hanging them by their wrists and skinning them like deer. I don't know that they were that afraid of Maddy and I, but when Bill, Angel, Lupe, Chuy, Juan, and Armando joined in, explaining that the burning fire was better because it was more painful and took longer to die, they paid attention. In fact, when Bill was explaining techniques 'his people' used back in the 1800s, they got plumb pale.

Of course, the dang sheriff, the game warden, and two cars of state trooper had to arrive about then, killing all our fun. After questioning us about what happened for an unnecessarily long period, given that they had gunshot, 'suspects' bleeding on the ground who were demanding medical care, we all debated the best way to recover them from the brush and get them to a roadway.

No one was as concerned about their well-being during transport as they were about expediency, so we put together a couple of travois from limbs and brush, and loaded them on. We tried to talk Chase into pulling one, but he was more interested in biting their hands and snarling at them, so Bill and I pulled them out. Did we find the shortest, most level, and most comfortable routes?

Unfortunately, we weren't able to find such routes, so there was some jostling of the injured criminals, err, suspects, but I blew off their bitching and threats by reminding them THEY were trespassers who came onto MY land ARMED WITH AUTOMATIC RIFLES, and if they hadn't fired at Bill, Maddie and I wouldn't have had to shoot them. And then we asked if they preferred we'd shot them in the head, which got us a few minutes of only whines and whimpers but no threats.

Yes, Chuy and Armando shot them, but the landowner and the local woman pulling the trigger made things so much simpler. And they were my guns.

After the state troopers and the deputy left to escort the suspects to the hospital and guard them in shifts, the game warden joshed with us a bit. He laughingly suggested the evidence didn't indicate Maddie and I fired the shots; rather, several men lay in wait for the intruders, and shot them after they fired 18 rounds at someone or something along the bluff.

I shrugged, and Maddie angrily said, "You calling me a liar? Cause there's been game wardens who disappeared in Chauncy County for saying less."

"I just told you what the evidence suggested, but I would certainly never call you a liar, Miss Maddie. Me, I believe every word you say, and I'll testify to it!"

He was half teasing and half serious, but there really was a game warden who disappeared on a ranch where she was working as a teenager. Seemed he had a crush on Maddie, just as he had crushes on a couple of other local girls. They were all out at the ranch when he came looking to check hunters camps, and was never seen again.

Of course the girls knew nothing about it, they never found him or his body, and his pickup was found several counties over. Supposedly, the local sheriff had visits from a few parents speaking ill of the game warden, and the investigation was moved into the inactive files, due to lack of substantial evidence. Or at least that's the way Charlie's version of the story went. Me, I was wondering what was left after a chopper-grinder rolled over you, and whether there was enough to bury.

Brooklyn wasn't affected by the gunfire, but seeing her rapists, even wounded and helpless, was hard on her. Kay got her counselor set up again, and took her the next day. I did what needed to be done in the barn, before the guys put the wire mesh up, swung all the doors to fit, and fixed the shutters on the windows. Checking and repairing the roof was the last major item remaining, but the crew would handle that.

The fence crew was half-way around, and Maddie was about 80 percent through with the roads and fence lines. She still had to drop the chopper and rip the new field up with the dozer. It looked like good soil, but there might be granite or limestone under the surface. When she had it ripped up, the fence crew would gate and high fence it to keep the deer and at least some of the varmints out. My intention is to grow vegetable, berry, and fruit crops for my own table, and my neighbors.

I fired up the Bobcat with the bucket and went back to work worked on widening the switchback. I made good headway without endangering myself, but it was slow work with an element of fear. Tumbling over the ledge in a Bobcat is not an experience I want to add to my repertoire. And yes, I wore the harness that is usually ignored by skilled operators.

Things look different on foot, so I parked the tracked cat and walked back down. It wasn't there yet, but maybe tomorrow. I still needed six feet on the switchback, but I need to knock another foot off the limestone ledge on the Zig, so maybe that will provide enough material.

Since I'm on the riverbank I wandered around, enjoying the setting and taking a little time to internally celebrate my purchase and the improvements we were making. In terms of money, this is a big investment; in terms of lifestyle, it is momentous! I'm walking away from direct management of the construction company I started and grew from a five-man crew with rented equipment to twenty times that many workers, and lucrative contracts that run out five years.

And with our reputation, more contracts are coming. Garnering those and others is my new job, and I can do that from anywhere, including here, once we are set up with internet and better electricity in the house. But I'm going to need a plane, and I'm not happy about paying gas and time for them to come get me, take me to the meeting, bring me back, and then fly back.

There is a solution for that, but I need to give it better consideration before jumping out there. It may be cheaper to pay for them deadheading down and back.

I walked upstream toward the diving pool to take a better look at the platform and the rope swing. Up close, it was obvious both had to be replaced. I could do it, but a couple of crew members from D-Mac could do it faster and probably better, given my well-earned aversion to working on high ladders. One fall from ten feet onto a pile of excavated dirt and rocks will do that to you.

I continued on, walking as close to the bank as possible to avoid the thorny brush until I reached my property line. The fence running down the sloping hillside was washed out to the top, and messed up there. I'd alert the fence crew so they could come prepared.

I was about halfway back to the emerging road when my peripheral vision spotted color and movement on the opposite bank. Given our recent problem, I nonchalantly stopped behind a big willow, unsnapped my pistol, and pulled it. Peering around the back of the tree was safest as the person was further upstream. I searched with my right eye, then both; nothing. Maybe I imagined it? Maybe I didn't and it was a gunman?

A couple of minutes passed with me still exposing my head in order to see. And then I did. I squatted and watched around the base of the big willow. She was stealthy, but the colors of her clothes stood out in the brush.

I couldn't see a weapon, so I stepped out and hailed her. Her initial action was to hide, but she knew it was too late, so she stepped into a clearing on the bank and yelled back. "Hi! I hope I didn't scare you. I'm Gwen Stockton; we own the land across from you. This land."

She was nervous, she was thirty-something, and she was built to handle! From here, the tight jeans covered an excellent ass and legs and the colorful blouse jutted out in the right places. "Hi! I'm Danny McMillan, and I just bought this place from the family, so we're neighbors. Wanna wade across and share a cold beverage? We congregate around the old oak at 6, and it's a quarter til."

She laughed. "Are you serious?" I chuckled and replied, "Of course, Neighbor Gwen. Plenty for everyone, including inquisitive neighborhood gals."

She giggled at being unmasked, walked to a spot on the river, slipped off her shoes, rolled up the legs of her jeans, and stepped off into the shallow waters. She was confident as she crossed, obviously having done this before. She reached my bank where a flat-top boulder sat, took a seat, and stuck her wet feet out into the late afternoon sun and wind.

"They'll dry quickly, and then we can go enjoy a beverage with the others. Which of them were involved in the skirmish yesterday?"

Up close, her body was even more impressive, but the nose dropped her rating. Maybe a nine below and a 7 up top. But it was an attractive 7 and she had a great smile, so, really a 7.5. Either way, I'd do her, no paper bags needed.

She soon put her socks and shoes back on, still carrying on a conversation with me about the river between our properties, and walked up the embankment with me. "Nice switchback! I was betting against you, but you're more skilled and patient than I first thought."

"Do you not have a life?" I asked rather rudely, but in a teasing manner. "How do you know all this?"

She chuckled and then grew serious. "I sort of have a life, but I'm alone out here most of the time while my husband travels. Add to that, he had prostate cancer, and the radiation treatment pretty much ended our sex life. But he's a great guy and great provider, so who am I to complain?

"Anyway, nothing ever happens on our side of the river, but it's been nonstop entertainment since you arrived."

Her candid response took me aback, and then made me like her more. Of course, my cock immediately asked if she needed a fuckbuddy, given her marital situation, but I fended him off and continued a civil conversation about what we were doing. Honestly, though, I wondered the same thing. Right age, right body, right personality, but does she have permission, or just the need?

We had been under the scrutiny of the bunch since our heads cleared the brush on the plateau. My people looked curious; the locals all spoke to her in a familiar manner. "Guys, this is Gwen Stockton from across the mighty Mississippi! Oops - make that the raging Llano River. The brave girl waded across the swirling stream just to meet you, and secure an ice cold beverage!"

I pulled two beers out of the ice chest, only to hear Maddy's laugh. "Gwen Stockton drinks wine! She can be seen making the round of wine bars on the square Thursday night!"

Gwen took the beer I was holding toward her and answered, "That's true, Maddie girl, but tonight's Monday, and I drink beer on Mondays!"

It was all downhill from there, and she was considered a Good Neighbor by the time we broke up. Chase liked her, and was pleased when we offered her a ride back to the river, or even across the her place. She grinned and said, "Never tried to drive across the river before, have you? The low water bridge is about four miles that way, and then you have to circle back on my road. Ten mile trip both ways."

"Sounds perfect. Hubby home, or would you be amenable to sharing a 16 ounce steak at the Ross General Store?"

"Hubby is not home, but I'm not going anywhere with you or me dressed like this! If we both have time to change, sure - I love their steaks."

We stopped at my trailer; she came in and looked around/snooped while I showered and shaved, and looked pleased when I reappeared. "You do clean up nicely, for real," she told me with a chuckle."

"Are you bringing this gorgeous dog? They allow pets on leashes."

"Will you let me put your leash on?" I asked the gorgeous dog. "Gwen wants you to go with us. Oh, and we're having steak."

I'm pretty sure he'd have gone just because Gwen wanted him to, but the temptation of having steak won him over, and he waited at the door.

Like me, Chase wanted to go watch Gwen undress and shower, but unlike me, she allowed him into her bedroom. Maybe later I'll get my turn - months of celibacy is getting me down!

"So," I began suavely, "since you shared your marital situation with me, if you'd like, I'll do the same." She did like, and I told her my squalid story during the fifteen mile trip. She was sympathetic, but asked, "So, if she can explain, are you taking her back?"

"Hell will freeze over first!" I replied vehemently. "You can't explain two years of cheating and lying as something else!"

"Good to know. And do you consider yourself a free man, even though the judge hasn't banged his gavel?"

"Absolutely! She burned our vows long ago - I see no application to me, now."

"Also good to know," she said again, this time thoughtfully.

She spent supper appraising me physically and mentally, even challenging me a couple of times regarding my beliefs about cheating spouses and controversial issues. Chase watched me and her closely too, but that was because he was waiting for the next sample of delicious steak one of us would slip him.

"There are a few things I didn't tell you before about my marriage. Robbie and I were high school sweethearts, broke up to attend different colleges, and got back together in our hometown the Christmas after we graduated. Things were going great for a year, but midway through year two we began to have arguments over little, inconsequential things. He had the job he still has, and I got a job in a bank. I had a degree in finance, but I soon discovered I had no passion for it, or my job. Maybe I was bitchy about my job and took it out on him, but he was just as bitchy and started a lot more fights than I did.

"I found out why later that year when I got a phone call from a man who informed me my husband and his wife were having an affair. He lived in a town on Robbie's route, and he sent me pictures, times, and dates. Robbie was gone for a week, so I got a lawyer and told him I wanted a divorce. But before I could file, Robbie returned home, and told me the lab results from his annual checkup showed his PSA had quadrupled in one year, from 3 to 12, and he had to meet with a urologist because that was a strong indicator of cancer, but might only be serious prostatitis.

"So I didn't confront him; I went with him to the urologist, who examined him and scheduled a biopsy. That came back positive for cancer in four quadrants. They did a PET scan next, and warned him it had begun to spread, so he needed to act immediately. He did the full regimen of radiation treatments, then chemo, and then they said the latest PET scan found no cancer. He rang the bell, we celebrated, and then we faced something no one thirty years old thinks could possibly happen: complete erectile dysfunction!

"When even the injectables didn't work, Robbie gave up, and that's when he cut me free. We're not divorced, but I live here, and he lives in Dallas or wherever in the world his job takes him. I considered divorcing him, but it seems mean because of his condition. He does come by from time to time, shower me with gifts and affection, deposit money in my account, and tell me he hopes I'm getting all the sex I need. He then goes back to wherever, and I don't hear from him for weeks or months.

"I live on the property my grandparents left me, their Buick SUV is now my car, and I live off the interest from the investments they willed me, their only grandchild. It's a good life, but I'm bored and I am definitely not getting all the sex I need, or want. On the other hand, I'm not interested in a romantic relationship, just a sexual one.

"So, given the situations we find ourselves in, would you like to spend a little playtime with me?"

From the jeans this afternoon and dress she wore tonight, I had picture of what was under her clothes, and I was not disappointed when she took them off! I also was not disappointed by her statement that "If we do this, Danny, anything goes! I spent too many years being 'good' and now I want to be 'bad' - very bad! I want to do things they do in porn movies, especially the amateur porn movies - I'm not flexible enough to do what they do in hardcore porn. But if you want to try something, I'm your girl!

"I've never done anal, I've never swallowed, I've never been spanked, or bound and used, or been spit roasted, or been DP'd, or made airtight! So, I'm practically a virgin, though I have tried missionary and female dominant. I haven't had sex with a human in close to seventeen months, and I took a test to make sure I was clean of STDs after I learned Robbie was fucking his way around his routes.

"I get birth control injections, just in case, so if you're sure you're clean we can forego rubbers, which I hate. So, want to go to my house and have a playdate?"

She wasn't kidding about being an innocent, or about being willing to try anything that wasn't crippling. We kept it simple on our first playdate, beginning with missionary, and then I hung her legs over my shoulders, told her to rub her clit, and aimed my cock at her G spot. She went off like a skyrocket and squirted, so I knew she liked that one.

We did Doggy, which she liked best when she was rubbing her clit and I was torturing her large breasts with inch-long nipples. She didn't squirt, but she did cum hard; so hard I almost came with her, and I was trying hard not to.

She had tried cowgirl, but Robbie's long, slender cock didn't really do it for her. My thicker cock did, but she was getting tired and got a cramp, so we laid down, spooned, and drifted off to sleep. We both really liked waking with my cock buried in her puss. I positioned her so I could play with her clit, and she quickly learned to coordinate our movements, resulting in an excellent dual climax!

She had an expensive coffee maker and used expensive coffee, but I believe the excellence of the taste was more about our night of exploration than the coffee maker or coffee. I left her curled up like a kitten in a chair, practically purring about how good she felt.

By the time I got changed into work clothes Chase was gone to Kay's for breakfast tidbits, but I found a note from Bill saying he took him to work. He was working beside Brooklyn in the barn. She was still subdued, but seemed stronger and less afraid. We worked and talked about challenging subjects she had never explored, and I became even more impressed with her intellect. She also looked like Elle Mae Clampett in the Beverly Hillbillies, so despite the night I had, I kept a chubby all day. I needed to keep away from that youngster, or I knew I would do something stupid and evil.

The solution to that dilemma came after supper with Kay and Charlie, when she brought up an idea she and select members of her study club had germinated. "Jean Anne has a niece who is starting her first semester of college this summer. Her parents bought her a three bedroom condo adjacent to campus, and she needs another roommate.

"The high school counselor says Carrie and Brooklyn both qualify for almost all grants based on family income and economic status, and she thinks she can get them a free ride, although they will have to work a few hours a week as a condition of some of the grants.

"Carrie wants to be a RN, and we have an excellent college with an attached health science center not far away - UTSA! Another Chance HS grad is starting her second year this fall, and she is looking for a compatible roommate. Her last one was an alcoholic druggie, so she says Carrie would be welcome, and she can show her around UT San Antonio and help her get settled.

"So, we have places for Carrie and Brooklyn to stay, all college costs paid, and potentially good roommates. We want to create cash accounts for them to draw out of so they can buy clothes and go out with others without feeling out of place! Isn't that exciting?"

"Wow! That's more than exciting, and I'll be glad to contribute to their 'mad money' fund! But did you forget to mention where Brooklyn would be going?"

She was cool as a cucumber, but the little smile on Charlie's face had me worried. "Someplace where a Texas-based motorcycle gang can't find her. For a girl who thinks shopping at the mall in San Angelo is a big deal, and who almost peed herself when they spent two nights in Austin at state track, the University of Washington in Seattle may seem a pretty big leap. And that's where you come in - she looks up to you and respects you; maybe you can make her see the benefits!"

"She told me she turned down scholarships from Texas Tech because it was too far, so yeah, Seattle is a reach!"

Kay proposed, "The first summer semester starts June 1, and today is May 5. What if you took her up there, let her meet the roommate and her family, and went along when they showed her around?"

"Me and what female chaperone? Just Brooklyn and I looks bad, for me and for her. Not to mention the temptation of us being alone when I know she has a crush on me, and I think she is a... But if a member of your study club is along, sure, I'll be happy to go and do what I can to encourage her."

"We were afraid you'd insist on that. Unfortunately, I'm the only one who can get away that week."

"Well hell," I teased, after a glance at Charlie, "that's more temptation than Brooklyn! We need to stay in different hotels, at a minimum!"

Charlie grinned. "Told ya he'd react this way. As much as he'd like to bed that pretty little country girl, he ain't gonna. You, on the other hand, if you get all dolled up in your finest lingerie and corner him in his hotel room, he might forget we're buddies. I've seen him eyeing you too often!"

Charlie was joshing, but he must have stuck a nerve because Kay turned beet red, before changing the subject. "We already have roundtrip airplane tickets reserved on a friend's airline credit card. If we cancel, she gets her money back, but I hope you and I and whoever else it takes can talk her into at least going and giving it a looksee!"

"I'll start working on her tomorrow, you work on her tomorrow night, and we'll see how it goes. I think Carrie will jump all over it, but Brooklyn probably couldn't find Seattle on Apple maps.

"Meanwhile, Charlie can start looking for a hotel for you in Seattle, and one for me in Vancouver."

That turned out to be no problem; Brooklyn was ready for a change, and getting away from the bike gang made sense. She knew where Seattle was, but not much else, so she, Kay, and Charlie flew up there while I stayed to face the Wicked Witches with Bill.

Reading off identical scripts, they began by appearing contrite, apologized, and then began pushing responsibility for their actions on mommy dearest. "I know I should have had the courage to tell you and keep her from using me, but I didn't want to lose the love of my life. She and three of her associates threatened to send you video of the first time, when they drugged me and used me while I was high. After that, she insisted Claudia and I entertain men she was doing business with, or she would destroy our marriages.

"Each time mother insisted we come 'take care of her,' she would drug us and allow those foul men to rape me, and Claudia! I couldn't believe some of the things they did to us, and made us say! But after the first few times we had no choice, because they videoed everything and threatened to ruin our marriages and reputations unless we did what they wanted!"

Rita even managed tears, though they were few, and her sobbing was a fake as a school play with a weeping heroine.

I listened with a calm demeanor, until the crocodile tears started, and then I tore her little fantasy to shreds with video and audio of my own. When she realized what I had on her, she went she-devil, screaming, raging, threatening, and frothing at the mouth. I laughed at her, reminded her of the pre-nuptial agreement she and daddy insisted I sign, and told her my lawyers were certain it was unassailable, so she needed to slink away, and try to live off her $80,000,000 trust fund.

That sent her on another tangent, with new threats of legal devastation being rained on me, of 'friends' hee daddy had that would take me out, and blow up all my worksites when my crews were at work!

I thanked her for making that clear, said I was sure the judge at our divorce trial would be interested in what she said, and pointed out the digital video and audio recorders with which I was memorializing her performance. She screamed, stood, and tried to rake my eyes with her claws, but I pushed the table between us into her, which put her on her ass.

"And thanks for that too - by dark I'll have restraining orders against you coming within a thousand feet of me, my company's worksites, and our former home in Plano. If I'm as lucky as I think, the court will see those as terroristic threats, which will put your worn-out ass in jail for a few years!"

The Slut Sisters roared away in the new car daddy bought Rita after the lease on her luxury SUV was abrogated. Bill and I traded stories and watched the videos before taking them to the Sheriff. He reviewed them and sent us to the courthouse, where we filled out forms for a protective order against our estranged wives. The order included our persons and our properties, and we were told by his clerk that the judge would consider and almost certainly issue them before five. We weren't sure where to serve them, so I reengaged the private investigators to find them, and to watch over our homes.

We went outside, sat on the steps of the historic courthouse, and I called Daddy Warbucks to give him a brief replay of his daughters' performances, and to tell him about the orders. Luckily, I was recording our conversation and so was Bill, because Daddy Dearest issued threats that were even more dire against us and my livelihood. We walked across the street and let the sheriff listen to that conversation. This time he accompanied us across the street to amend our request to include their father, and went into a conference with the District Attorney to discuss further legal action - like arrest warrants.

Before he went into the conference, he urged us to return to the ranch and take necessary steps to protect ourselves. Instead, we drove over to Llano and ordered three handmade semi-automatic rifles with 30 shot magazines from a gunsmith there. He asked for a couple of hours to assemble and test them, so we ate barbeque did tourist stuff, like wandering around the square and visiting the historic jailhouse near the river.

The rifles - some would call them 'assault style rifles' which I guess they are, but we were using them for defense against the bogymen the Witches or their Daddy might dispatch. As had already been proven, you never know when a skirmish might break out, and you don't want to be outgunned.

Sheesh, what a world we live in!

Nearly four weeks of work on my new ranch had converted it into - well, not quite a showplace, but certainly not a place you'd be ashamed to have guests visit. Carrie had become almost an apprentice to Bill, having acquired considerable skill in woodworking, and they had the house looking like I hoped it would.

The electricians and plumbing crew had done their work with minimal damage, but to electrify an old rock house to meet modern needs did require some accommodation on my part, and our next job was to install four foot high beadboard paneling along the walls in the bedrooms and the center wall of the living and dining rooms to cover the conduits enclosing the wiring.

Kay and a few of her friends had gone on antique shopping sprees with my credit card, and we had taken a trailer load of furniture to be reupholstered by a man who had a huge shop near the middle of nowhere. It was originally assigned to his 'when I get around to it' area, but negotiation and a significant bribe moved it into the 'after I get through with these pieces' area. Charlie was right; to get things done out here, you had to be a skilled negotiator without reservation when it came to bribery.

Bill had taken an owner's interest in the house, so it was being restored slowly but immaculately. Brooklyn and the DMAC crew had the barn looking more like a dancehall, except some of the antiques from inside the house and some of those we found in the barn were stored in the far end with tarps tied over them.

The furniture was stored in the part of the barn with the original wooden floor; the rest of the floor was dirt. The crew replaced the bad planks in the original floor and installed a wooden floor covering the rest of the barn. The electricians hung old-fashioned lighting fixtures with modern bulbs so you could see well at night, or even host a party or dance if you wanted.

Thirty-six pallets of native buffalo grass had the lawn looking like a showplace should, and the painters would arrive next week to paint the porches and stain the porch floors. Maddie, her equipment, and the fencing crew were long gone, but the road crew still had drainage pipes to install and cover along old washes and ditches in the back pasture. There was an old stock tank he had Maddie clean out before she left, and restoring drainage to it would offer a water source for livestock and wildlife in the back pasture.

Maddie had also ripped the ground behind the barn and implement shed, so I was able to begin discing it. Of course, it was getting hotter and drier every day, but my project benefited from a week of light rain and one night of thunderstorms that wettened and loosened the soil. When it dried sufficiently, I began going over it again and again until it was broken up enough to prepare it for the autumn crops.

On a whim, I had her rip a couple of acres in another old field, not too far back. There I would plant oats this year, and, if the weather permitted, grain the next. I enjoy quail and dove hunting almost as much as deer hunting and fishing. The oats would be allowed to go to seed before turning cattle in on them, and grain crops would increase deer, dove, and quail numbers on the ranch.

Charlie, Kay, and Brooklyn were gone a week, but when they returned my apprentice wasn't with them. They explained that Brooklyn and her potential roommate quickly became friends, helping her overcome her fears and enroll for the first summer semester. She wouldn't commit to more than that, but agreed to try it and see how she felt while attending college at Washington. Kay was gathering her higher quality clothing, and buying things she would need even during the summer, including more clothes, hoodies, and windbreakers.

They had a sealed envelope for me, which I pocketed before offering to buy a laptop for both Carrie and Brooklyn. "If you're buying those off the internet, send Brooklyn's to her at her new address. We're shipping her clothes as soon as we buy the new things she needs. And don't volunteer to pay for those; our women's club has raised money and we're paying!"

"Fine, but if you come up short, let me know. I think we all want her to have a good semester so she will pursue the degree and become a teacher. We need more teachers, and especially teachers with her intelligence and life experiences."

Kay hmphed, but said she would. We said our goodbyes, and I returned to the RV. I left the letter from Brooklyn until after my shower and sandwich supper. With feet elevated in my recliner, and Chase dozing on his bed, I turned on the TV, found an adventure film, and opened the envelope.

Five minutes later, after having read it through twice, I folded it, put it back in the envelope, and placed the envelope in a drawer of the end table. Thirty minutes later, after having considered the content, I sighed deeply and looked for a new movie. I had no idea what was happening to the adventurers, and needed a reset. The next movie channel offered a romantic drama, which I quickly bypassed; about the last thing I needed tonight was a romantic drama.

I gave up and went to bed, which confused Chase - "Why are we going to bed so early?" he asked with his head leaned to the side and a confused look on his noble face. "Because I need to rest and think a little bit. Your buddy Brooklyn gave me a headache." When I said 'Brooklyn' he raised his head, looked around, and whined. "Yeah, I know; I feel the same way."

Gwen may have been an innocent, but she was in relentless pursuit of the perfect fuck and orgasm, and she taught me as much about the female body and reproductive system as I taught her about positions and techniques. I suspect she spent time each day honing her own knowledge, as her expertise seemed to be growing geometrically rather than arithmetically.

Sex with her was almost the opposite of sex with Rita; she wanted me to please her and she wanted to please me, and she wanted us to come together in some spectacular manner. Rita wanted me to please her orally and vaginally, and then she would see fit to help me get off one way or another.

I thought I understood the term 'mutual climax' but Gwen taught me the real meaning, and, yes, it was spectacular. Sometimes we took more than an hour getting ready, another hour exploring and trying new things, and then part of a third hour moving inexorably toward that golden moment of reward. I had no idea!

And so, in some ways, the student became the master, and the master the student, and both were ecstatic!

I was busy at the old homestead or in the pastures most of the day, but we found time to meet under the shade trees on my side of the river from time to time and try watersports, or grassy bank sports.

One such day, she lay naked on the blanket beside me as we dried off in the warm breeze. "Danny, these have been the greatest weeks of my life! I never dreamed a lover could be so caring, so solicitous of my pleasure and enjoyment, and so willing to teach me and learn with me."

"I think you're talking about you, Sweetness. I had no idea the sex I have been enjoying all my life was so pedestrian, so mediocre. I may have taught you new positions, but you redefined sexual pleasure for me!"

"Which is why the opportunity to travel that I've always dreamed about, comes at a time when it brings me regret, Danny. My graduating class at UT Dallas is sponsoring a tour of the Mediterranean, and I signed up. It's a month long tour, and we fly from DFW the day after tomorrow.

"I know it's cowardly of me not to talk to you about it until now, but it's something I need to do, as much as I'm going to miss our lessons. We promised our relationship would be sexual, not romantic, and I find that harder and harder to do. So I'm going on a month-long adventure to clear my mind, and perhaps find someone my own age with whom to form a relationship during the tour."

I'll admit I was hurt, but I limited my response to, "Regardless of what we said, I found in you a soulmate of sorts. I'm sad you're leaving and I'll miss you, but I wish you only the best! The best tour, and the best relationship. Maybe you can teach him like you taught me, or maybe you can learn new things to teach me when you return."

"We'll see about 'when I return', Danny, but I thank you for your wishes, and especially for the time you spent with me. A piece of you will always be with me.

"But now I need to get dressed, wade the raging river, and go finish getting ready. Deciding what to take for a month with the luggage restrictions is harder than I thought it would be."

"I always heard, when going to France or Italy, a woman should only halfway fill her luggage, so she can bring back all the things she bought. Have you considered that?"

"No, but is sounds like a solution to my problems! Thank you again!"

She stated her intention to get dressed and leave, but she didn't offer much resistance when I pulled her back onto the blanket and made love to her again. We had already achieved a nice mutual orgasm, but this goodbye orgasm was the best so far, thanks to my selfless partner. I was going to miss her.

Even in the morning, it was hot and dusty on the tractor, but I needed to again disc the areas to be cultivated. The ag extension agent had tested and analyzed the soil from each area, and neither of us was surprised to learn they needed different configurations of fertilizer to improve the soil. With his analysis in hand, I drove to the feed store and talked to the manager about applications on disced fields, and about the crops I wanted to grow in each field. He suggested his fertilizer trucks apply a certain amount now, and again after the crops were up. That sounded reasonable to me, so I signed up and paid up.

There was still plenty of time to work at the ranch, but I was thirsty so I went to Kayla's to drink some of her private stock. We laughed and talked while she cleaned tables and the bar, and got ready for the 5 o'clock crowd. I offered to help, but she declined my offer and made one of her own.

"I appreciate the way you helped those girls, and I appreciate your sense of humor. I'm closed Sunday and Monday - want to get together and see if we're sexually compatible? Neither of us is looking for romance, and I hear Gwen has gone away for a while, so your needs will be climbing all week anyway, and mine are over the moon already."

After I offered her a trip to Fredericksburg to eat, drink, and dance, we made a date for Monday at 5. We flirted more freely after that, until the crowd assembled and demanded her time and attention. I again offered to help, and she said she'd take me up if there was a table of women, but she just couldn't see me flirting with the men. So I left.

It was Thursday, so another day of work and then the weekend. But I didn't have anything to do, so I thought I might just work around the house, barn, and implement shed. A diet Dr. Pepper and sandwich with chips was my supper, so Chase ate his and went down to Kay's to see if the fare was better down there. It must have been, because I didn't see him again until his bedtime at 10.

I was dozing while watching some cooking show when the phone rang. I shook myself awake and answered. "Hi, Danny! This is Amy, from College Station - remember me?"

"Well of course I do, Miss Hardbody! What have you been doing since school is over - working out in the gym eight hours a day?"

She responded with a genuine laugh, and then answered, "No, Mr. Smarty Pants! As a matter of fact, I went home for a week to see my family and friends, went to Yellowstone with a few other friends, and spent last week at South Padre with my girl gang! Don't you wish you had been there with us?"

"Mm, yes I do! I can only imagine the way you rock a bikini!"

"Well, about that. I hear you bought a parcel of land with Llano River waterfront and a swimming hole. Could I maybe drive over this weekend and swim a little with you?"

"Of course, but I have a strict limit on the maximum amount of thread in a bikini at my place, and it's not much. Got a suit like that?"

"I don't know, but I have some dental floss and I can crochet three triangles. Is that too much?"

"Depends on the triangles. Probably be better to cut small triangles out of sheer organza and then attach the dental floss. I'm pretty strict."

She giggled. "Can I come down tomorrow? I have to be back Monday for an appointment so I can't stay long!"

"The sooner the better, Mighty Mouse!" I replied, thankful that my date with Kayla wasn't until Monday night.

I helped Bill and Carrie for a while, then disced the last area for cultivation. I was on the tractor headed back to the barn when I saw Charlie drive up to the house and two people get out. I chugged on up in a storm of dust, parked it, and climbed off. I assumed his passenger was Kay, but Amy got here early! Guess she wanted to tan that hard little body this afternoon, and maybe fuck me in the water or on the grassy bank! I hoped.

She got a warm reception from Bill and Carrie, who were as covered in sawdust as I was in dust, but she refused to hug any of us. "Not in my white coverup! All three of you need to grab your suits; Charlie and I wore ours because Danny promised me I could swim in his pool this afternoon!"

"Granted, it's noon, so technically it's afternoon. However, we haven't eaten, and..."

"Kay packed a picnic lunch, but you need to take your ice chest and sodas down. She will be here in a moment," Charlie informed us.

"You did tell her the rule about square inches of material, didn't you?" I whispered to Amy.

"Neither of us are going to make your rule this afternoon; maybe tomorrow with no one else around, I'll wear my dental floss and sheer organza, but Kay's rules rule today!"

Bill, Carrie, and I kept suits in the house because we went swimming most days. To the amazement of all, Kay came close to meeting the rule requirements; Carrie did, as always, but Amy fell far short.

"Okay, I'll allow Kay's bikini, although it's just a bit more cloth than the rules call for, but since she's close, and she brought the food... You, on the other hand, are not even close, Amy!"

Carrie spoke up with a giggle. "Brooklyn left one of her one size fits all bikinis in the house." She ordered Amy to come with her, and the rest of us laughed when they were out of sight.

"If Brooklyn wore it, it's going to swallow Amy. Guess you'll have to make an exception for your guest, Danny!" Kay teased.

Charlie still wasn't speaking; he was too busy leering at his wife. Or perhaps all the blood from his head was now in his substantial swollen cock. Bill too was leering, so I joined in, causing Kay to warn she'd put on her coverup if all three of us were going to look so predatory!

I engaged Bill in a conversation about how much had gotten done inside since Kay was last inside. We decided it was enough that she needed a tour of the house and barn, after our cooling and cleansing swim. We hustled inside to change into our shorty swim trunks, that Carrie and Brooklyn bought for us when we came up with the bikini rule. They were shorts, but short enough that cocks had been known to be visible.

"Hey, we'll drive the ice chests down in the mule. Y'all use the other ATVs so we can all park on the bank."

I heard Kay telling Charlie she didn't know we could drive down to the bank and park on it, and he was replying when Bill started the mule and we went down. One ice chest was filled with locally canned Dr. Pepper, the other with light and full strength beers.

When they arrived and we saw Amy, both of us gawked; there's no way Brooklyn ever wore that suit when we were around! Carrie saw us, giggled, and told us they each had suits to wear when we weren't around, though they usually ended up skinny dipping, especially if Gwen came down."

That gave me something to think about besides how delicious and delectable Kay, Amy, and Carrie looked. I had gotten kind of jaded about Carrie's hot body, but seeing her in new company, she was choice!

We wadded over the slick limestone base, which we had started calling 'slimestone' because the moss made it so slippery, and swam into the pool. We treaded water and talked for a while, then sat on the rim and talked some more. Amy caught us up on her summer and the happening with the girl gang; we caught her up on what we had done with the ranch, and Brooklyn's great adventure. Amy didn't really know her, but was pleased that she had eluded the gang and found a new home in college - especially since she planned to be a teacher.

Carrie showed her a picture of the four of us, and Kay had to correct the assumption the raised eyebrows indicated. It was all farts and giggles until hunger struck and we got out. I picked up three beach towels and draped one around each woman. They used them to dry off, and then I suggested they wrap them around to cover some skin, or we men would be unable to avoid crossing the sexual harassment line.

They giggled at that, and Carrie took my suggestion while the other two donned coverups. After that, we had a delicious lunch of still warm fried chicken, potato salad, mixed greens, and fried apple pies - that were nothing like you buy at McDonalds!

We stuck to DP, fearful that tipping the beer at this early hour would result in an early bad ending for the lightweights, and maybe us.

After the picnic, we wandered down the Pecan and Oak shaded bank to the deeper hole with the rope platform. The crew had rebuilt it before they left, but Bill and I were concerned about our weight and the depth of the pool, and Carrie and Brooklyn wanted nothing to do with it. Not so with Kay, Carrie, and Charlie!

Kay went first, with a yell, and dropped cleanly into the middle of the pond. Charlie executed a nice half gainer, and Amy topped that with a full gainer and splashless entry. San Antonio girls and Llano River Rats were a lot braver than us flatlanders, and girls who rarely left town. After a few more rounds and some coaching, I gave it a try and managed to not kill myself while making a splash like a boulder. Carrie was still skittish, so Big Bill gave it a try with a result similar to mine. That gave her whatever she needed to try, and she looked graceful even when entering the water.

After that there was a line at the ladder, and lots of screaming and hollering as we tried new things, and Charlie, Amy, and Kay showed off. It was one of the best, most relaxed afternoons I could remember, and I was happy and proud that I made the road, cleared the tree out of the pool, and had the swing rebuilt. A man could get addicted to the River Rat lifestyle!

Bill and Carrie weren't a couple, but they were paired up and seemed happy about it when the six of us drove down to Fredericksburg to eat boiled crawfish and shrimp at the Crawfish Festival. We chose a vender with Louisiana license plates and a thick Cajun accent, and he did not disappoint. Even the bread pudding was excellent: thick, sweet and gooey.

As with every festival in Fredericksburg except the fair - and it seemed they always have banners across the road announcing another festival - it was held downtown at Das Marketplatz von Fredericksburg. There were shops featuring knick-knacks and gifts, and shops in tents or under covers with clothes and shoes, western wear, crafts of every kind, and art galleries.

Kay returned from a dress shop with bags for a male to carry and caught me staring at a set of oil paintings of the Llano River at sunrise, noon, and sunset, all from the same perspective. She told me the artist lived maybe ten miles from us, and offered her opinion that they would look wonderful in the 'great room' of the homestead. Carrie wandered up and reinforced that opinion, so I bought them. They were big - 3'x4' so the seller carefully wrapped them for transportation. Carrie and I carried them and Kay's bags to the SUV, stowed everything in the back, and returned for more shopping.

I thought I was through so I'd sip a beer and chat with the locals, but Bill and Charlie called me over. They introduced me to a blacksmith who had cool and manly stuff like glass-top tables with the support made of horseshoes, and pictures of gates he makes to custom specifications in his welding and fabrication shop. Bill and Charlie had told him that I needed a gate to match the old wrought iron fencing around an old home, and a gate at the entrance to the ranch, so I just confirmed that, took a card, and told him I'd call next week.

When I looked at the card, though, I noticed a Chance address. I asked, and he told us he recently moved to Chance from an oil field equipment fabrication shop in Odessa, and was occupying one bay of the old Ford dealership building, and the remaining bays belonged to a ranch and oil field services company. He had become friendly with the owner, and he and his wife made the decision to move here for the great schools and quality of life. That wasn't the first time I'd heard those reasons, and it made me feel even better about my choice.

After hauling more sacks to the SUV, we drove over to Hondo's and took a seat in the biergarten, near a three-piece band playing country and western music. After our server took our drink order, I nodded at the small dance floor and asked Amy "Do you waltz?" She grinned and stood, and we gave it a whirl on the small, concrete dance floor. Our companions joined us, and when the music died we turned and applauded the band. They seemed to appreciate that, and urged us to make requests.

The three ladies went over and opened a conversation that lasted several minutes. Our beers arrived at the same time as they did, and we enjoyed the beer, served in icy mugs. The band played Marty Robbins' classic El Paso, and then The Tennessee Waltz began. We took over the dance slab again, and somewhere in the aftermath the girls changed partners. I had Kay for a western swing, Take Me Back to Tulsa by the inimitable Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys; big Bill had little Amy, and Charlie was paired with Carrie, whose youth didn't prevent her from knowing how to swing with the best of them

Another swing song, Hank Williams' Honky Tonk Blues, began, and the ladies again switched partners, with Carrie in my arms. "I wish Brooklyn was here!" she exclaimed to me. "She loves swing and classic country! And you should see her do the twirls and spins!"

I could picture that, as coordinated and graceful as she is, and experienced a fleeting moment of sadness. She was where she needed to be, but I missed her, and I could tell Carrie did too.

The song ended, the band announced a fifteen minute break, and I took her elbow to escort her to the table. She held back slightly, looked up at me, and asked, "Have you read her letter? She says she hasn't heard back from you."

"I have, Carrie, but it doesn't seem to require a response. I'm fond of her, yes, but the eight year age difference and her need to grow and mature intellectually, socially, and emotionally are a lot to overcome. I'll call her someday, and maybe we can talk things out, even start talking from time to time to stay connected, but that's the most I can offer. Tell her that, and if she wants me to call, let me know."

We went back to the table, where the other four were drinking beer, talking, and eyeing us. We joined them just as the server returned. We ordered another round, made selections from the menu, and ordered our food after she served our beers. The band returned, we danced some more, and I had my last beer, since I was driving. The others weren't, so they continued drinking and dancing and having fun.

We left at sundown, and Charlie showed me a shortcut back to the ranch a few miles before we got to the river bridge. There was just enough light to see it was a beautiful route, with old German houses, a low water bridge, and an old schoolhouse that now served as a community center. It also saved twenty miles compared to going to town and then back to the ranches.

I dropped Carrie off with Kay and Charlie; she had called mom to let her know she was spending the night there.

Amy and I hadn't had a lot of time alone, but we'd gotten to know each other better by participating in the conversations. I was afraid it was going to be awkward after Bill walked over to his trailer and we got inside my RV, but she made it simple. As soon as the door closed, she turned, wrapped her arms around my back, and raised her lips for a kiss. She was an excellent kisser, and had the unique ability to strip both me and her in less than three minutes.

"Shower, then bedtime!" she commanded excitedly, and the little hardbody proved her gymnastics abilities and flexibility were real while we were in the shower. In the bed, she proved her conditioning was real, and her little hardbody could get us into positions I'd never experienced before. It was an amazing night, and we still had today, tonight, and half of tomorrow to expand our repertoire and coordination. There was zero romance in our efforts, but they were athletic and enthusiastic and joyful, punctuated with everything from squeals to whines and whimpers, to groans and moans, to cheers and thanksgiving, and a little instruction on preference!

We drove over to the ranch after we ate burgers I grilled outside the RV. After riding the roads and bringing her up to date on the work that had been done, we arrived at the old Homestead for a tour of the barn, house, and grounds. Our picnic basket this afternoon was aluminum wrapped burgers and chips, but our primary concern was getting naked, having sex, cooling off and cleaning up in the water, sunbathing, and having sex again, which reset the routine.

If Gwen hadn't made me an expert with my hands, tongue, and mouth, and in positioning a woman for a purpose, I wouldn't have been able to keep up! She really was a well-conditioned little fuckbunny, and I was fortunate she came easily and needed time to recover, because that gave me time to recuperate.

We went to church Sunday with the Hoersters, Carrie, and Bill, which I'm sure started a lot of speculation afterward. I don't know that for sure, but I do know a large number of women made it a point to meet Amy, even many I didn't know, and the raised eyebrows Bill and Carrie got were hard to miss.

But Amy and Carrie handled it all well, with help from Kay. For me, it was water off a duck's back. Bill and I had one last meeting Wednesday, and then our cases went before the judge Friday. We would become single men sometime that day, and Amy would not be the last single woman I'd be seen with around town, so they could get used to it!

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Not that it's a BFD, but this is my 100th story on this site