With her husband's football team in the dumps, horny hotwife Janet has an idea. Sex sells, and when the coach's wife is the one who is up for grabs, all the players will give it (and her) their best shot. But can she convince strong armed quarterback Jimmy "The Cannon" O'Bannon to play for the Promise Vixens? Find out in "The Coach's Lusty Hotwife!" ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~ Janet got up. Jimmy politely rose in response. “How would you like to see some of the scenery?” she volunteered. “There is an absolutely incredible view of the Teta Peaks from the front of the house.” “Sure. I guess.” “Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” A smile took some of the sting out of her words. “How’s it going, honey?” Coach Wilson asked. He raised his eyebrows in polite question as Jimmy followed Janet up onto the deck, feeling almost as if they were a couple. But not really. You’ll never be good enough for a woman like her. “Everything is just fabulous, honey. God,” she enthused. “Could we have gotten a more perfect day?” She took a deep breath, looking up into the cobalt-blue sky, which had been scrubbed clean of clouds. “This is the kind of day that makes you feel lucky just to be alive, isn’t it?” Coach Wilson reached out a long arm and pulled her in for a kiss. “For me, that’s every day.” Janet pushed her hands against the tall man’s chest, giggling. “I’m going to take Jimmy to see the Tetas. You mind if I disappear for a few minutes?” “Nope. You two go on with your bad selves. Mack and me can probably keep the place from burning down.” “Why am I not filled with confidence?” “Because you should have more faith in your husband, and the manly qualities that made this country great.” Coach Wilson took a bite of his hamburger. “Uh-huh.” Janet seemed unconvinced, but took Jimmy’s arm. “Come on, Cannon. Let’s go before we all die of testosterone poisoning.” He frowned as she led him into the house. “Shouldn’t we go around front?” “Nah. You can’t get a good look at the Tetas from there. We have to go up to the second floor, where there isn’t a bunch of crap getting in the way.” He shrugged, but followed obediently. Compared to outside, the house seemed hot and breathless, almost stifling. Janet seemed to notice it, too. “Montana,” she sighed as she led him up a staircase. The polished wooden bannister was like silk under his fingers. “The furnace runs for eight months straight, and then when it finally warms up, we have about two weeks of spring and then it’s time to turn on the air conditioning. “Here we go,” she said, opening a door at the end of a hallway. “The best view is from here.” He twitched aside the curtain, his brows drawing down in confusion. The window looked east, away from the Bitterroot Range that formed the valley that Promise lay in. All he could see was the street, parked cars, and the other houses in the tidy little subdivision. “Um.” He didn’t quite know what to say. Was he missing something? “Where are the Tetas?” “You don’t know much Spanish, do you, Jimmy?” Janet’s voice was low, amused. But with something deeper running through it. “Tetas is Spanish for ‘breasts.’ “And they’re right here.”