The Fried Chicken Affair: The Sex Trap

By Jack A. Hancock

Jasmine, a beautiful young woman, to impress her husband, plans to prepare a chicken dinner from chicken on the hoof receives instructions from Jack. She loses her courage for the chicken but becomes interested in Jack. Jack struggles to be faithful to his sick wife.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491723463

Jack A. Hancock

Jack A. Hancock, born in 1921, is a veteran of World War II and the Korean War. He worked as a chemical engineer for E. I. DuPont for thirty-two years. He began writing upon retirement and has published one other novel, The Fried Chicken Affair. He currently lives in Brentwood, Tennessee.

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Copyright © 2014 JACK A. HANCOCK.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-2345-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-2346-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014901646

iUniverse rev. date: 02/25/2014

Contents

CHAPTER 1 Temptation

CHAPTER 2 The Lion’s Den

CHAPTER3 The Party

CHAPTER 4 The tail livens up

CHAPTER 5 Escape

CHAPTER 6 All bets are off

CHAPTER 7 Holy Cow!!

CHAPTER 8 Trapped?

CHAPTER 1

Temptation

The neighborhood was filled with upscale houses. We had built a house there after we sold our company for a fabulous price. Betsy was petite and had fluffy blond curls. She radiated energy. She was a teacher and published writer. She was 38 and I, 43. Betsy never knew a stranger; so when we moved in, Betsy got to know the neighbors, and Jasmine, a young neighbor woman, was Betsy’s confident. The neighbor’s husband, Ted, traveled; so we saw a lot of Jasmine. She was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. She had big blue eyes, long legs, big blond curls and a wonderful personality. Jasmine also did something I thought romantic: She piloted her own air plane. She caused me some wild dreams, but Betsy was the one loved. Well, this woman will be involved with fried chicken. But, first you need to know how fried chicken was made before refrigeration and modern stores.

Many years ago I remember my mother frying chicken on an old wood fired—cook stove. There were other things cooking, potatoes, chocolate pie, carrots beans and gravy. Dad and mother had a bunch coming for lunch. Uncle Russel (I know it has 2 L’s but that is the way he spelled it), Uncle Dean, his girl friend and Ruth, my mother’s sister, would arrive shortly. There was a lot of conversation and eating and plenty of fried chicken for everyone. I think there were at least 3 whole chickens on the table. I mean all parts of the chicken: legs, thighs, neck, backs, breasts, wish bones and giblets. Giblets were those things we don’t see today. They were the hearts, livers, gizzards, pancreas and kidneys. They were cut up in the gravy. I did not think much of them; as a matter of fact, they were not on my menu; but the old folks thought them tasty. I went for the wish bones and the thighs. Today some think that chickens only have breasts. You can still find thighs and legs in the grocery stores and hot wings in the fast food places, but the breasts are the big thing. I think they have done something to enhance the breasts.

In my day chickens came in their original form, on the hoof or rather with claws which they used to find food. Chickens pretty much fed them selves, but if you wanted them to eat, you had to fatten them up with a little corn. Back then, most chickens were running around loose and if you wanted to eat one, you