It Ain't Paranoia if... Ch. 02

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Exploring the Big Bend; Cocked Pistol.
11.1k words
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Part 2 of the 15 part series

Updated 06/15/2023
Created 11/20/2021
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Texican1830
Texican1830
1,480 Followers

It Ain't Paranoia if... Part 2

More about the Big Bend, more interaction between Rob, his kids, and Kaitlyn, and then the action starts.

***

Rob was sitting on the patio with a cup of coffee when the sun rose. He spent the first hour of his reverie recounting the events of yesterday and last night; in particular, Kaitlyn's sketch of her circumstances, mind-set, and decisions of five years ago, but also the eager acceptance by his kids of their dad and his strange lifestyle.

Part of him wanted to confront Kaitlyn, force her to recount every detail of her betrayal, and take responsibility for her actions...but she seemed more than willing to tell every detail and take responsibility, which, at least to a degree, she had already done -- in front of a table full of strangers.

Although it might help salve his need to hurt her, the main drawback to a nasty confrontation would likely be that she and the kids would pack up and return to Houston, or wherever they were living now. He was just getting to know his kids again, and Kaitlyn was as contrite and apologetic as he wanted her to be, while still being her vivacious self, so why drive them away?

Ah, the choices one must make! The first choice was easy; keep his kids with him. The second problematic; confront Kaitlyn and take the chance she would bolt with the kids, or ignore the past, try to keep things platonic, do what he wanted to do: show them the Big Bend he so loved.

By the time Kaitlyn joined him, coffee cup in hand, the decision had been made and he had moved on to planning their day. Then it struck him that they had yet to discuss her timeline: was she planning to stay for a few days? A week? Go back today? He didn't know, so he asked.

"Rob, I pulled the kids out of school and enrolled them in a homeschool curriculum so we could come here. No, I should say that I did all that at the kids' request, because they were adamant that they had to see their daddy. Grace, who remembers you better because she was older, was adamant, but little Dos was even more insistent.

"We didn't know if you would even speak to us, much less let us stay with you, so we have no plans. We're entirely at your mercy. Why do you ask? Do you want us to go?"

"No, I don't. The kids seem so...I don't know -- happy to be here? Their exuberance about and acceptance of me and my unusual lifestyle -- including my most unusual friends -- surprises me. "This is about as far from River Oaks as you can get and still be in Texas, and the people here are not like the people they have known, and yet they seem... comfortable."

"What about me?"

Sigh. Deep breath; look away; look back into those blue-green eyes set in that gorgeous face, and sigh again. "Once I got over wanting to wring your pretty neck, I discovered that you are...I don't know...different... somehow. You seem more self-assured, focused, or something. I'm not sure what it is, but I know that I appreciate you taking responsibility for what happened between us. If you had made excuses, you would be back in your car heading east...or buried in the desert."

"How can I not? It IS my fault! I was immature, foolish, gullible, and an extremely bad decision-maker. I turned my back on my soulmate, my chosen life partner, and wallowed in the mud with a low IQ criminal without moral standards or character.

"If I found a genie that would grant me a wish, I would be transported back to the time Robert first came on to me so I could slap him, storm away, and tell you!"

"Good to hear, I guess. I don't know what that gets us, since there is no genie. It is nice to know you wouldn't do it again, though.

"Now, since you are at my mercy, let's talk about today, tomorrow, and the rest of the week. How would you feel about sightseeing, a series of hikes, and an overnight camping trip? We leave after breakfast, come back tomorrow afternoon late."

She was lukewarm until the kids came out and began bubbling and babbling about the idea. I discussed the 'all dogs must be on a leash' rule for the National Park with Duke, and he decided he would prefer to stay and take care of the place, even if it meant using the dog door to go into the shed rather than the house. Of course, the shed has its own thermostat, and it contains another orthopedic bed, his automatic feeder, and a water trough with float, so he wouldn't exactly suffer while we're gone.

I soon had everything and everyone packed in the Jeep, and we were off to the Chisos Basin. The first part of the drive they chatted about how rocky and barren the landscape was, but thought the distant blue-hued mountains were pretty. When we climbed into the Basin, they chattered in amazement that they were now in a forest of small trees surrounded by huge cliffs!

After establishing our campsite, composed of a two-room tent, sleeping bags, a five-gallon water jug, an ice chest with food and another with drinks, and a sack of cooking and eating utensils, we put water in a backpack and began the 5.6 mile hike to The Window.

The Window is a pour off that allows water aggregated in the basin to flow through a 'window' in the rock walls of the basin and onto the desert below. It's a nice hike, and the view of the valleys, flatlands, and mountains to the northwest is breathtaking. The walk getting there is downhill, following the watercourse; therefore, the walk back is uphill.

We stopped for water several times along the way, and arrived back at camp in time for a lunch of sandwiches, chips, apple slices, and 'coke'.

We discussed our options for the afternoon and decided to begin at the visitors' center so they could learn more about the plants and animals of the Chihuahuan Desert / Big Bend National Park. From there we headed down to Castolon, stopped at the various overlooks and pour-offs along the way, and took pictures of the diverse, mottled colors of the exposed strata. We then followed the river west to Santa Elena Canyon. They might not be the Grand Canyon, but the steep rock walls of the canyons of the Rio Grande are impressive in their own right.

Instead of doubling back, I took them upriver a ways, to a fishing hole I knew well. After a five-minute walk north, I showed them how the river had divided into two channels with a rock island in the middle. We crossed the first stream, which was only inches deep, by hopping from big stone to big stone. We stood on the island for a moment to take in the desolate beauty and discuss how the slow-moving streams here turned into the surging water we saw in the narrow canyons.

We then walked to the north end of the island and hopped across the stones to the other shore, and walked south along a well-worn path beside the river, with a sheer rock wall towering above us. When we reached the place where the streams merged again and picked up speed, I pointed to a patch of green water against our shore, and told them I'd caught a lot of catfish out of that hole.

Dos asked if we could come back and go fishing, and I told him we could, but not for a few weeks, if he wanted to stay that long. He assured me he did, and Grace concurred.

We walked back upstream to the crossing, and stopped so I could conduct a brief lesson in borders, boundaries, and laws. "So, what country are we standing in, Grace?" She looked perplexed, and then exuberantly answered, "Mexico!"

I nodded and smiled. "You're right. Did you know we broke federal law by crossing these little streams?"

She got big-eyed and shook her head; Dos and Kaitlyn frowned. "Seems silly, doesn't it? I could go to prison for walking across this shallow river and fishing from that side, and a Mexican could be sent to prison for walking across to fish on this side.

"See, lawmakers make decisions and laws that apply to all of us in all situations, whether that makes sense or not. Take the border wall they keep talking about building. How angry do you think the folks who conduct float trips through the canyons will be if the canyons are fenced off? How angry do you think all the fishermen will be when they can't get to the river anywhere along the 1000 miles from El Paso to Brownsville?

"How about those who fish on Lake Amistad, which was a joint Mexican-American project: think they will be happy when it's fenced off? What about the ranchers who will have fences a half-mile from the river because that's how wide the flood plain is there? Do you think they will be pleased to give up all that good grazing for their cattle, and their right to enjoy their part of the river?

"Sometimes something that sounds good, or maybe would be good for people in a certain location, is a bad idea for other people in other locations. That's why those of us who live out here don't always cotton to every law or government regulation. Lots of laws that make sense for Philadelphia, New York City, or Los Angeles, don't make sense for Terlingua or Study Butte.

"To look at it another way, the border between Mexico and California, Arizona, and New Mexico, is an imaginary line in the sand. You can build a fence or wall right down that line and neither country gives up any of their sovereign soil. You know, like landowners do when they build a fence.

In Texas, the border is the MIDDLE of the Rio Grande, and you can't build a wall down the middle of a river like this, much less down the middle of Lakes like Amistad and Falcon that are on the river.

"So if we're going to build a wall on Texas soil, we're giving up access to sovereign American and Texas land. As you can see, you'll have to build such a wall back from the river's flood plain, or it will be washed away when storms cause flooding.

"Here it would have to be built up there, on that mesa, but there are huge canyons that cut through the mesa, and no one can build a wall down the steep side, across the bottom, and up the other steep side, without destroying a lot of land with heavy equipment. And if they were able to, this road would be in no-man's land, and we wouldn't be able to drive on it!

"Sure, we all want border security, but are we willing to pay the cost of increasing the size of the Border Patrol, and properly equipping them with the technology and resources they need to do that? Even if there is a wall, motivated people will find a way to get over, under, or through it, and you still need a well-equipped Border Patrol to keep it intact and useful, and to round up those who get past it.

"Now, let's cross back into American, and you tell me how different it feels."

***

We took Old Maverick Road, which is dirt, back toward Study Butte. We explored an old jacal, saw the rock chimneys, and then returned to our camp in the Basin. Supper was hotdogs with canned chili, chips, canned peaches, and apple juice. We cleaned up and changed into our sleepwear in the campground bathrooms, and then sat around the concrete table at our camp, waiting for the main event.

We sang a few campfire songs to kill some time, and then sat quietly as it got darker. We noticed the diminishing sounds of the people around the campgrounds, and the increasingly evident night sounds of the critters of the Basin. I hoped the people were sitting and listening, rather than going to bed; this was going to be too cool to miss!

It was soon pitch black, and the stars were incredible! In this area of west Texas, with low humidity and little light pollution, there are many, many times as many visible stars as in the populated areas of Texas, and especially the Houston area, which combined high humidity with enormous light pollution. The constellations were easy to see with the naked eye, and we spent an hour finding those we could remember.

Around 9:30, the anxiously awaited event began: an eerie glow crept over the plateau of the mountain that forms the eastern border of the Basin. We were all awestruck as a humongous orange moon rose slowly above the walls, growing larger until it was ten-times as big as they had ever seen, dominating the eastern sky.

Gasps and 'Oh, Daddy -- it's amazing!" were all I heard as they held their hands on their chests in wonderment. After it cleared the Basin walls, the enormous moon hung in the sky like a massive orange planet in a movie, and then slowly rose higher, regaining its normal luminescent silver color and size.

We talked about the forces of science that caused that spectacle, and then the kids crawled into their sleeping bags, exhausted. Kaitlyn joined them almost immediately; I sat in a chair and soaked in the cool air, as awed by the display of nature as anyone, despite having seen it many times.

The kids were sleeping in one half of the divided tent. My sleeping bag was along one wall of our half, Kaitlyn's along the opposite, and yet we were somehow spooned together when I awoke a few hours later. Her luscious butt was pressed against my very hard cock, and my arm was lying across her; she was holding my hand. I tired extricating myself, but she protested in her sleep, clutched my hand against her breast, and nestled against me from head to foot. My mind knew that this is a bad idea, but my body overruled; after all, we are in different sleeping bags, so no harm. I cuddled her tightly, and I went back to sleep.

***

I awoke to the sound of kids giggling, which might have been the most magical alarm of my life. What they were giggling about, however, was a bit disconcerting: their mom and dad snuggled tightly together.

Kaitlyn protested sleepily when I tried again to disentangle myself, and pressed her butt more tightly against me.

They giggled, and Grace whispered, "Daddy, I need to go make peepee, and so does Dos. Since you are both still in bed, can we go alone?"

Given that the restroom was only a few dozen yards away, and it was still quiet around the campground, I gave them permission, with the command to holler loudly if anything happened.

I again tried to unwind myself, and again she grabbed my hand and held it over her very nice, firm, titty while snuggling her very nice, firm ass against me. "Kaitlyn, the kids are awake and will want breakfast soon. We need to get up and get going."

"Ohhh, do we have to? This feels soooo gooooodddd!"

Cutting comments cruised through my mind one after another, but I held my tongue. As much as I didn't want to accept it, this was the best feeling I'd had waking up since...well, in a long time. "Be a responsible parent and get with it!" I chided her, before breaking loose to slip on my shorts, a windbreaker, and flip-flops.

She moaned and turned onto her stomach, so I popped her tight, round ass, and then began tickling her. That combination got her up and about, so I slipped out the door and hurried down to use the facilities myself.

The kids came out just as I got there; I told them to wait for me, and then we went back together. Cereal with milk, your choice of banana or strawberries, and orange juice would make up our camp breakfast.

Mommy came out wearing strappy sandals, Daisy Dukes, a crop top, and mussy hair. She looked delectable, and had the happiest expression I'd seen since they arrived.

She leaned on my shoulder, took my orange juice and banana, and finished both. That pissed me off, not because I was all that thirsty or hungry, but because it was so proprietary.

"Last night changes nothing!" I warned her with a hiss; she smiled, knowing it did.

***

Driving out of the Basin toward today's destinations -- Langford Hot Springs, Boquillas Canyon, and Boquillas del Carmen -- I contemplated the consequences of our nightlong snuggle. I tried to convince myself it meant nothing because we were asleep; it was just two bodies seeking warmth. I had made considerable progress toward that end - until she put her bare feet up on my dash.

The little shit had chosen to wear a mid-thigh length, off-the-shoulders sundress that showed off her lovely, golden legs below and her exquisite neck, shoulders, and arms above. Of course, she wore no bra, so the dress offered both the swell of her luscious titties and her hard little nipples pressing against the thin fabric.

Concentrating on driving, I had almost lost the uncomfortable hardon I got when she first appeared out of the tent, until she put her cute little feet with pink toenails up on my dash, uncovering her legs all the way to her panties, which were made of matching fabric. Now I was titanium hard.

"Kaitlyn, is that a good choice of clothing for the hikes we have in front of us? Perhaps you should change." I argued petulantly.

She cast a knowing look my way, "Oh no, this is light and cool, and I have matching tennies in my bag for when we walk. Why, don't you like it?"

As asked, the question was bordering on sexual harassment, because she (1) smirked at me, (2) she squirmed down a little more on the seat to display more of her panties, and (3) she patted my leg very near my painfully hard cock and grinned like the sexy she-devil she is.

I might have groaned, but I definitely had to swerve to avoid running off the road into an arroyo. Wrenching my eyes back onto the road, I took three deep breaths to calm down, looked around to determine where we were, and began pointing out sights to the kids in the back seat. Anything to avoid getting enraptured by the deadly siren's song and crashing onto the rocks below!

Suddenly the feet were in my lap, and she brightly asked, "Do you like this pink color on my toes? I wasn't sure, but I thought it matched the pink in my dress."

I refused to look down, knowing we'd end up in the deep arroyo beside the road if I did. Then her heel 'accidently' came to rest on top of my cock, and rubbed over it a few times. Knowing my uncontrollable reaction would only spur her on, I replied, "The pink looks great; now remove your pretty feet from my lap or we're going to plunge off the road to our deaths!"

She giggled, rubbed a few more times, and slowly, languorously drug her feet back, pivoted, and tucked them under herself.

Well, shit! This was the wild sex kitten I found irresistible in our glory days; this was going to be a very long and trying day if she kept his up!

I fixated on the road while Mom, thankfully, visited with her spawn in the back seat about the guidebooks they were reading. Grace illumined her about the history of the hot springs, and Dos chimed in about riding donkeys to the little town in Mexico.

Driving was a way to ruminate about Kaitlyn and our kids without having to face them... especially her.

Five years ago, when I confronted her about the affair, I encountered a haughty and belligerent bitch-woman who was dismissive if not disrespectful. She looked me in the eyes, stated that she had fallen in love with Robert, they were living together while I traveled, and it was in everyone's best interest that we get a divorce so they could marry. She actually countered my angry response by shrugging her shoulders and telling me it was going to happen because it was best for her and her kids, and I was never around anyway.

To this very moment, I can close my eyes and conjure up that woman, hear her cutting words, and summon all the pain and anger I felt then!

When I look to my right, however, I see a more mature version of the girl I fell in love with, hear her melodious voice charming our kids, and, somehow, I can't overlay the shrew. She's been contrite, apologetic, playful, charming, and flirty -- well, this morning she's a bit of a vixen, in a good way, but I've not seen evidence of the she-devil I last encountered.

The question is, is it there; still lurking and waiting for a moment of weakness? Have the come-ons been to soften me up for the slaughter? I see no indication that's the case, and I did last time. I watched her grow angrier and more suspicious with each trip, then colder, and finally belligerent and cruel. Everything about her then was the polar opposite of the young woman I courted, married, had kids with, and with whom I shared a passionate love.

Texican1830
Texican1830
1,480 Followers