Relocating To Texas

Relocating To Texas

Jackson was legitimately excited about the prospect of leaving Minnesota. He’d lived there all his life, and despite his genuinely cosmopolitan mentality, he realized that, even with his really expensive liberal arts college degree, two adorable dogs and his fantastic wife, Chung-un, he was just a homer with too many snow shovels.

Chung-un had emigrated as a toddler with her parents from South Korea. She was extraordinarily smart, with an Ivy League diploma and a cutthroat business sense. She was also lots of fun, and Jackson considered himself quite lucky to be with her. She had left a promising career track in New York City to marry his sorry ass, and Chung-un rarely let him forget it. For his part, Jackson had once harbored plans for graduate school to teach history, but real life scattered those dreams like dust on the sidewalk.

Jackson had worked for the same small, family-run advertising company almost since graduation, and he alternately cherished and abhorred the consistency of his work life. Lately he’d felt trapped by the situation, and the normal pendulum cycle had never quite swung back towards satisfaction at his workplace. Jack was burning out.

Chung-un had changed jobs like underwear in the past two years. Jackson had begun to worry about her resume looking a little fleeting, when she landed a fantastic position with a prominent multinational retailer. The corporate culture, unbelievable benefits and opportunities for advancement were like victory flags pulled stiff by a strong wind. Jack and Chung-un immediately recognized a good thing when they saw it, and without speaking they put all their proverbial eggs in her career basket.

The gamble paid off, and within six months, a new store was being built in Texas that required Chung-un’s unique skills. This was precisely the opportunity they had hoped for to get the hell out of Dodge, as it were. The refreshing cycle of seasons in their northern clime had become an exercise in drudgery; praying for summer in the depths of winter, and vice versa. Even their dogs, two lovable African Basenjis, despised the arctic winters of Minneapolis, their ancient genetic heritage yearning for dry, open grasslands and 100-degree temperatures. Yes indeed, this seemed like destiny.

While it was Chung-un whose career would transport them from the frozen tundra of metropolitan life in the land of ten thousand lakes to the arid wilderness the Republic of Texas, it was Jackson who would have to do the legwork. The new retail location was north of Dallas-Fort Worth, not far from Plano. Jackson’s undying dedication to the small business had netted him a nearly ridiculous amount of vacation and sick days. And so it would be Jack who would venture out to the wilds of Frisco, Texas, to get the lay of the land and investigate housing and amenities for their impending move.

It was early on an ugly gray morning in March when Chung-un brought their aging SUV to a stop at the ticketing level of the Minneapolis/St. Paul International Airport. Jackson leaned over and kissed her perfunctorily on the cheek, then opened the door and hopped out. He retrieved his roller suitcase from the backseat and muttered a lackluster goodbye, before closing the door and making a beeline for the sliding doors. He checked himself in using the ubiquitous Northwest Airlines e-ticket kiosks, managing to secure an exit row seat with a certain sense of satisfaction. Jackson mindlessly navigated the security lines and x-ray machines, eventually pouring himself into a seat at his gate on the G concourse, and immersing himself in yet another Nelson DeMille crime novel.

When his plane touched down in DFW, Jackson realized he was in foreign territory. Cowboy hats dominated the local aesthetic, and the eerily self-congratulatory “Don’t Mess With Texas” paraphernalia seemed oddly like an act of conformity. Jackson perceived an air of superiority, but then considered that it might in fact be some kind of intense counteraction to a statewide inferiority complex.

The taxi ride from Dallas to Frisco was Jackson’s first serious mistake. They had apparently not considered the actual distance beyond the roughly one inch on the map, and the journey had cost him nearly $65 not including tip. It was not a good start to the trip, Jackson noted, and stared out the window across the featureless terrain. Finally they arrived in Frisco, one of those next-big-thing towns that had had enough warning to build infrastructure and unimaginative chain restaurants to match. The city seemed oddly new, considering that the surrounding natural environment smacked of cowboys and Indians, Colt pistols and hitching posts.

On one level, Jack was truly excited about the promise that this community held for Chung-un and himself. On the other hand, he felt like a stranger in a strange land, and he realized he was already counting the days until he flew home. The driver pulled up at his hotel, and Jackson peeled out enough twenty-dollar bills to make a grown man cry. Jack wheeled his diminutive suitcase into the lobby and checked in.

Jackson showered and took a nap. His least favorite aspect of travel, of which he had done quite a bit, was the near total waste a day that a typical domestic flight took these days. He consulted the clearly biased “directory” for dining options, and settled on a nearby steakhouse. He sat alone, robotically chewing what should have been a serious beef experience, unhappy at his solitude in this strange place. He already missed his sweet puppies and his wife’s cherubic smile. He ordered another Tom Collins and continued eating mindlessly.

The next morning, Jack showered early and got about the business of investigating the town. He utilized public transit and free maps he’d pocketed at the airport to orient himself in this berg, making special note of the “neighborhoods” (a.k.a. developments) and the relative housing values. He was astonished at what the American dollar could get you in this place. Their cute little Cape Cod two-bedroom in Minnesota had cost them $150 large. The same amount here would get you a damn mansion. Jackson saw one immediate upside to moving to Butt-Fuck Egypt, Texas.

He lunched at a little Mexican diner in a strip mall, and marveled at the carne asada he’d ordered. Liberally doused with hot sauce, he started to feel like he wasn’t on some backlot tour. He had a brief but amusing conversation with the cook/waiter/owner. Apparently real people actually lived here, if this guy was to be believed. Things were looking up.

Jack took a bus to an older neighborhood (he suspected the early 1990s), and saw some homes that hadn’t been built in the past six months. He found it vaguely reassuring that this whole thing wasn’t just some elaborate prank a la Blazing Saddles. There were a couple homes for sale, and to get pricing and details, he brandished his cell phone and called the number on the yard sign.

A bright, energetic woman answered the phone.

“Gutierrez Realty, this is Linda,” the woman answered with a noticeable Spanish accent.

Jackson explained himself and requested housing costs and related information. Linda answered him professionally and courteously. Jack was content to conclude the call when Linda offered to come meet him and conduct some tours.

“Well, I’m not in a buying position at the moment, I’m just doing some factfinding. We’re relocating here this summer.”

Linda was unfazed. “That’s alright, sir. We’d like to you get the most out of your trip, and when it’s time for you to buy, we hope we can be of service.”

Jackson couldn’t think of a good reason for her not to come out, so he agreed. She told him she’d be at his location in ten minutes. Jack thanked her and closed his phone. The sun was nearing its hottest, in the neighborhood of 2 in the afternoon. He sat on the sidewalk in front of the house in question and waited.

Linda spotted the conspicuous pedestrian several blocks away. She laughed to herself at this gringo trying to hoof it around Frisco without a car. She pulled her Lexus sedan to a stop next to the seated gentleman and hopped out of the car.

Jackson watched her pull up and stood as she shut off the car. He watched as this petite Latina emerged from the sedan and bounded energetically to shake his hand. They met cordially. Behind his sunglasses, Jack took in this little lady. She was probably 5’3”, 120 lbs, with a meaty rear-end and frame-proportionate breasts. Her brown face was stunningly attractive, and she likewise hid her eyes behind polarized sunglasses.

“Thanks for coming out, Linda. I’ll admit I’m a bit lost in your town,” Jack offered.

“My pleasure, sir. Always glad to be of assistance to folks like yourself.”

She led the way to the house and produced a preposterous ring of keys. Jackson laughed out loud.

“You’re not kidding. I can’t even fit this in my pocket!” she laughed before correctly identifying the appropriate key and gaining access to the home.

Linda led Jack through the house, needlessly pointing out the obvious details, downplaying noticeable problem areas and generally working a sales job on him. He smiled politely and nodded agreeably.

“What’s your schedule today, Ms. Gutierrez?” Jack queried.

“Um, actually I think I’m wide open. That’s rare, but my husband’s got most of them this week. Would you like to see some other homes?”

“Something like that. Plus I don’t have a car, and you do. Would you mind giving me the nickel tour along the way?” Jackson was clearly enjoying this little pistol, and she was as quick-witted as he.

“Exact change only, but sure, why not? You’ve had lunch already?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m all yours.”

“We’ll see about that. Okay, this house sucks. I’m glad you’re not buying it.”

“Me too. Do you sell non-sucky houses, Linda?”

“On occasion. Come on.” Linda led Jack out of the house, locking it dutifully behind them. They slid into her Lexus and she pulled out with purpose.

They spent the next several hours getting Jack oriented to the town, which he found much easier to do while not staring at a bus map. Jackson made snide and clever remarks, but Linda always had a witty response, and Jackson started to finally feel at home. By late afternoon, the two had built a healthy rapport. Jackson silently debated the likely color and style Linda’s panties while she phoned her husband.

“Hi Jose. Yeah, I’m driving someone around town. They’re moving here this summer, and he’s trying to get to know the town. Yeah. Oh, really? Good for you! Nicely done, honey. Um, you know, I don’t know. Let me ask. Hold on.” Linda looked over at Jackson. “My husband wants to know if you have dinner plans.”

“Well, I did, but Ann Richards cancelled on me, so I guess not.”

Linda smiled and turned back to the phone. “No, he’s free. Sure, we’ll be there shortly.” She flipped her phone closed. “You’re having dinner with us, okay?”

“I should warn you that my kidneys have no resale value. Too much drinking in college.”

Linda laughed loudly and pressed the accelerator. Jack stared out the window at the passing terrain. Some minutes passed before anyone spoke.

“My husband, Jose, is a great cook. Hope you like real Mexican food,” Linda offered.

“As long as it’s not armadillo fajitas, I think I’m cool,” Jackson replied. Linda laughed again. He liked her laugh. He liked her. He was not looking forward to meeting Jose.

As the sun sank low and heavy in the southwestern sky, Linda pulled the Lexus into the driveway of a nice house in a nice development. They exited the vehicle, and the front door opened. A handsome Hispanic man emerged with a beer in his hand.

Jack followed Linda up the front steps, and he found himself face to face with Jose Gutierrez. He was a very good looking man, Jack thought, clearly a bit older than his lovely wife Linda, with touches of salt-and-pepper on the sides of his short-cropped hair.

“You must be Jackson,” Mr. Gutierrez put out a monster right hand for a handshake.

“Heavens no,” Jack replied dryly, “I’m just a transient that Linda picked up. I was holding a cardboard sign that read, ‘Will house-hunt for food.”

Jose laughed heartily, and Jack instantly felt welcome. “Jackson Lundquist, Mr. Gutierrez. Your lovely wife has been most helpful to me today. I’m honored to be in your home.” Jack took Jose’s hand and they shook warmly.

“Not at all,” Jose smiled. “There’s more to life than selling houses. Come on in. Beer?”

Jackson smacked his lips absentmindedly. “Mmm, twist my arm. Whatcha got?”

“Hmmm, Dos Equis, Corona and Negra Modelo. I think have a few Lone Stars around, but allow me to recommend you don’t drink them. In fact, I should pour those down the drain one of these days.”

Jack smiled. “Negra Modelo, please. Thank you so much.”

Jose poured the rich dark beer into a chilled pint glass and handed it to Jackson. The three stood in the Gutierrez’s kitchen while Jose finished preparing dinner, talking and joking like old friends. ‘I think I just found us some new friends,’ Jack thought to himself, thoroughly enjoying the pleasant company of the realtor couple. Finally they sat to eat, and over chile rellenos and a few more beers, the three adults got on like old pals, and Jackson sat there, stuffed full and slightly buzzed.

“Jose and Linda, I am so fortunate to have met you. You are fine folks.”

The Gutierrez family smiled warmly and returned the compliments. “Jack, you’re a great guy. I can’t wait to meet your wife. When did you say you’re moving again?”

“Oh, summer sometime, I guess,” Jack mumbled, his mouth craving another beer. Jose sensed this and quickly procured another Negra Modelo from the fridge.

“How long are you in town for this week, Jack?” Linda asked.

“Umm, till Monday, I guess. I have no idea what the hell I’m gonna do over the weekend,” Jack wondered aloud, not intending to put upon Jose and Linda.

“Well, I know what you’re doing,” Linda proclaimed. “You’re spending it with us, right, honey?” Jose nodded agreeably. “We’re thinking about going to the lake, Lewisville Lake. Will you please join us?”

Jack was busy putting his tongue into the opening of his beer bottle. He hastily removed it with some embarrassment and answered, “Umm, yeah, I guess so. Jose, is that cool? I sure don’t wanna…”

“Of course it’s cool, man! In fact, is your hotel paid up?”

Jack considered this. “Uhh, I have no idea. I don’t think so. No, no, I’m sure not. Why?”

“Well, you can stay here,” Linda entreated. Jose nodded with a smile.

Jack was having an internal lovefest with these two wonderful people. “Wow, I can’t even believe this. Umm, okay, I guess I should get my stuff, right?”

“What’s your hotel? I’ll call and cancel it while you and Linda go get your stuff. Welcome to Casa Gutierrez, Jack.” Jose grabbed the phone from the kitchen counter.

“Country Inn & Suites,” Jack recalled. “But I don’t remember where…”

”It’s on 14,” Linda chimed in. “Let’s go, Jack.” She popped up with alarming enthusiasm and grabbed her purse.

Jack stood unsteadily and followed Linda’s shapely behind. As they exited the front door, he could hear Jose strong-arming the hotel staff on the phone. Jackson smiled and shuffled to the Lexus.

Jackson and Linda drove in considerable silence to the hotel. Jack went to the room and collected his belongings. When he arrived in the lobby, Linda was already negotiating the final details with staff. Jack signed for his one night stay, and rolled his suitcase out to Linda’s car.

The ride back to their place was somewhat less awkward. Jack had sobered ever so slightly, and Linda was feeling good about having extracted Jackson from his multi-night engagement at the hotel. The sky was very black as they pulled back into the Gutierrez driveway. Before Linda turned off the car, she pulled up on the emergency brake, then put her small hand onto Jack’s leg.

“Glad you’re here, Jack. I hope you don’t mind putting up with an old married couple.”

Jack’s cock stirred when Linda’s small brown hand hit his leg. He worked hard to ignore the contact and managed, “Well, we’ll see. If I hear you snoring, I’m outta here.”

They exited the car and headed for the house. Jose was on the couch watching Letterman. Jack and Linda joined him, and the beer flowed again. Jack was having a hard time staying awake. Before midnight, he had fallen asleep on the couch, leaning on Linda’s slender shoulder as he slumbered peacefully. Jose and Linda shared an amused look regarding their besotted new friend. Finally, Linda roused Jackson and showed him to his bedroom. He collapsed with little ceremony and promptly fell back asleep.

The next morning, Jack awoke with Jose standing over him. “Get up, dude. Time to head for the lake!” Jack pulled himself forcibly from the bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Linda had set out towels for him, and he showered happily. He felt refreshed and recharged, and emerged packed and ready to go.

They piled into Linda’s Lexus and headed for Lewisville Lake. They headed for Easthill Park, where they had reserved a camping spot. Jose produced from the vehicle’s trunk a monstrous, multi-room tent, which he assembled in no more than 12 minutes, much to Jack and Linda’s mutual astonishment. Within a half-hour, the three friends had unpacked the car, complete with food cooler, sleeping bags and personal luggage. They all sat out in folding camping chairs and sipped cold beers as the warm spring sun shone down. Jack peeled off his shirt, exposing his nearly iridescent white skin. Linda laughed at him, and Jose recommended eye protection for everyone.

Jackson, Jose and Linda shared a lunch of ham sandwiches, and played cards in the pleasant afternoon sunlight. Linda sported short cutoff jean shorts and a jean vest. She looked delightfully slutty, Jackson noted. He found himself staring with increasing frequency at her shapely dark legs and slender arms, catching occasional glimpses of her belly button. Thankfully his sunglasses disguised all this, but Linda made no effort to hide her manifest charms, and Jose appeared not to have noticed.

“Siesta!” Linda finally called out. She scurried into the tent, falling comically onto her sleeping bag. Jose shook his head and laughed, then got up and followed her in. Not sure what else to do, Jack entered the tent as well, laying down in his separate “room” of the tent on the sleeping bag they had so graciously provided. “Hey, Jackson!” Jack heard Linda bellow from across the tent. “Come here!”

Curious, Jack peeled himself from the satiny comfort of the sleeping bag surface. He crawled awkwardly through the “wall” of the tent to the Gutierrez side of things. Jose and Linda lay sweetly near each other, the last rays of warm daylight streaming through the trees and into the tent.

“Here!” Linda pleaded, patting the space next to her adorably. Jack stretched himself into the designated space and found himself awkwardly close to Linda. Jackson was delighted, of course, but he worried about Jose’s take on the situation.

Linda put her left hand on Jackson’s thigh. Jack waited for violence to erupt. Jose didn’t move. Jack stirred, trying to shake loose her hand but secretly hoping she wouldn’t. Jose seemed to notice his half-hearted effort.

“Jack, don’t worry. Everything’s cool,” Jose said in a warm, conciliatory tone. At the same moment, Linda’s fingernails dug into Jack’s bare thigh. Jackson froze. Linda laughed.

“Jack, we’re swingers. I kinda counted on you figuring that out. We’re not going to hurt you, honey.”

Jackson’s head was swimming. Albeit he had been fantasizing about Linda since they first met, but he had no real expectation that they would actually live any of that out.

“Yeah, Jack, just relax. Linda will take care of you.”

Jose’s even tone seemed so nonchalant, yet the contents of his consolation were so bizarre and foreign as to seem comical. But when Linda’s hand neared Jackson’s crotch, Jack realized that this wasn’t a prank. Jack was unsure of what to do next, what Jose would find permissible.

As if reading his mind, Jose calmly stated, “Don’t worry, man. Anything goes. Linda’s got quite an appetite, and I don’t mind watching.”

Jack contemplated the absurdity of his situation. Of course his first thoughts were of Linda and her compact but curvy little body. But his second thoughts were of Chung-un, and his resolve nearly strengthened. And that’s when Linda’s little brown hand landed satisfactorily on Jack’s junk. He cast aside any other considerations and rolled over towards Linda. He pressed his mouth to hers and felt her hot smoky breath. Her tongue was small but spicy in his mouth, and he hungrily sucked on it. Linda, meanwhile, busied herself by groping at Jack’s clothing, trying to identify an exploitable weakness.

Jack embraced Linda’s small frame and pulled her on top of him. She felt his hard pecker pressing angrily against her, and she smiled lustily. “Mmm, somebody’s got something to show me,” she teased, and slid down Jackson’s body. She hastily unzipped his fly and stuffed her little hand into his pants. Jack squirmed nervously, noticing Jose’s looming presence. But Jose continued to breathe softly, while his petite wife removed Jack’s cock and moaned as she held it in her hand.

“God, it’s lovely,” Linda hissed, placing wet kisses along Jackson’s shaft. Linda pressed his cock to her face and breathed in. “Mmmm, it smells fantastic. Honey, I’m gonna suck his cock, okay?”

Jose grunted in agreement, and his hand moved to his own crotch, rubbing slowly at his burgeoning erection.

Jack could barely believe the situation, and while he contemplated it, Linda popped his clammy pecker into her hot little mouth. He watched in disbelief as his bright white cock disappeared into her small brown face. Jack grunted instinctively. He could hear Jose breathing heavily nearby, and the sound of Linda slurping on his cock made the entire scene utterly surreal. Soon the pleasure was unbearable, and Jackson started pleading with Linda to stop before he came in her mouth.

“No, we don’t want to waste it, do we, baby?” Linda cooed suggestively. She sat up, unsnapped her cutoffs and wiggled out of them. She had no panties on underneath. Jackson breathed a profane exclamation. Linda crawled up Jack’s body until her tight brown stomach pressed against his cock. She sat up and peeled off her jean vest, exposing her perfectly formed breasts. Jose was kneading his groin nearby, while his wife prepared to mount their new friend.

“Jesus!” Jack gasped as Linda lowered herself onto his glistening cock. Linda grunted in agreement and quickly started moving against him. He put his hands on her hot skin. Her back was smooth and warm, and she moaned under his touch.

Linda got onto her knees and started riding Jackson with purpose. Jack saw out of the corner of his eye that Jose had finally pulled his peter out of his shorts and was yanking on it pretty hard. Jackson returned his attention to the diminutive Latina hottie who know engulfed him. He put his hands on her unbelievable ass. It was not enormous, but on her slender frame it was quite amazing. She cooed, grinding herself hard against his cock.

“Oh Linda,” Jackson managed. “Damn!” It was the best he could do under the circumstances.

“Dios mio!” Linda countered enthusiastically. “Fuck me, Jack. Make me cum!”

Jack felt ennobled, and grasped her buttocks with renewed vigor. He thrust up against her, pushing his pubic bone against her clit. She grunted in an animalistic fashion. Jose continued to pound his pecker contentedly on the sidelines. Jack gave her ample butt a playful slap. She indicated enjoyment, and he slapped her again.

“I’m coming, Jack. Shit, I’m coming!” Linda lurched hard against him, as her slender body was wracked with orgasm. Jack could barely contain himself.

As if on cue, Jose spoke. “Come inside her, Jack. It’s okay. She loves it.”

Jack was relieved by Jose’s last minute admonition. He would have been hard-pressed to do otherwise anyway, but Jose’s permission convinced Jackson to fill Linda’s small vagina with his cum. She felt him spurt inside her, and she purred happily.

“Yes, Jack, cum inside me! Yeah, fill me up,” she challenged nastily.

Jack, for his part, was already lost in the throes of orgasm. He involuntarily thrust himself further into Mrs. Gutierrez as his body spasmed, spilling his seed into her tight little hole. As Jack came to grips with his internal orgasm, he heard Jose grunting in predictably male pre-orgasmic fashion. Seconds later, Jose’s cock erupted in a spray of white cum, and Linda leaned over to suck him off and clean up his stomach and chest of the viscous fluid.

Jackson lay there, his spent cock still stirring inside Linda’s hot little pussy. He remembered his wife Chung-un, and then reflected on his new friends, the Gutierrez family. Linda unexpectedly slid off of him, and lay between the two large men, comforted by their looming presence around her slight naked body.

So when did you say you guys are moving here? This summer?” Linda asked lustily, still basking in her post-orgasmic glow.

Jackson considered the question a moment. “Well, I’m already here. I’ll see how soon I can get her down here.”

Jose asked, “What’s she look like?”

Jackson replied without a hint of jealousy or possessiveness, “she’s Asian, 5’ 6”, 140 pounds, nice tits…”

What did you think of this story?