You're Always 17 Ch. 01

WTF? Then I saw the smile on Katrina's pretty face and River's shit-eating grin. I walked over and hugged both, and then greeted my unexpected 'guest.' I looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she explained, "We wasted too many minutes last night on my cellphone plan - I thought we could talk in person tonight. Meeting all your friends is a just an added benefit!"

"Okay, but since you're here and I'm cooking, you're going to help me feed all these characters, so wash your hands, slip on an apron, and let's get to it!"

"No, no, no! We were teasing you! I'm the cook, and everything else is ready," Alexjandro interjected. "Sit back with la chica linda, toma cerveza, and relax. This is on us and El Jefe, who made a run to Sams on the way home yesterday."

I escorted la chica linda to a couple of tables pushed together that included Katrina, River, Abe, Isobel, and a dozen men, with a warning that she got herself into this mess, and seated her.

The story of the bruise and black eye on her pretty - well, beautiful - face got story time started, with Abe and his dad chronicling my abrupt departure from the table, sprang to where a big cowboy was standing over Shannon, and how I cold-cocked him with one blow. From that point, a thousand assholes attacked me, and I was kicking ass and taking name while the dead and dying lay bleeding and stacked on the floor around me, like the myth of Crockett at the Alamo.

River then described how Abe and Chad outran them to get to the mob, wadded in, and started adding to the pile, and how big Chad, the former pro Americano football player, was tossing assholes across the room. Abe told the story of how the other old men - River and the Beans - were laying waste to their young challengers until the only ones standing was our grisly group and a houseful of cops with drawn guns.

Katrina and Shannon chronicled the cops cuffing and stuffing us, and how the women saved the day by bailing us out and convincing the cops we were the good guys. Shannon's teary-eyed retelling of being sexually assaulted on the dance floor, breaking loose and slapping the guy, and then seeing stars when he backhanded her with his fist ended the cops' effort to blame it on us. Her retelling in the back yard immediately recruited an army of migrants willing to go de-ball and gut the sorry son of a beech who hit her!

By ten pm, I had no secrets that Shannon didn't know, although most were as great elaborations of the truth as the story of the great battle at the Wild Wild West Corral. If she stayed to talk after all that, she had some potential. Sam broke the party up by reminding us of tomorrow's jobs, and Katrina teased us that maybe Shannon should come stay with them since it was late and she had been drinking.

In reality, I think she had nursed two beers the whole time, but she handled it by sweetly declining and explaining that Glenda had volunteered to put her up if she ran late, and that was on the way back to Lubbock.

That black Wrangler didn't leave until after breakfast three days later, and she didn't want to go then. She was young and inexperienced at sex, but a quick learner. More importantly, she loved sex, and the sexuality her body exuded was real. How would I describe her 18-year-old-body? Perfect and impeccable are both accurate. No, really!

A beautiful face above sculpted neck and shoulders; a robust body, with bust to waist to hips ratios that would make a swimsuit model cry; and slender but muscular legs with thighs that seemed just a bit too long for her body. She was gorgeous wearing her little minidresses and shorts, but naked she was splendiferous!

Imagine firm C-cup tits topped with quarter-sized light brown aureoles and only slightly darker protruding nipples that got hard enough to cut glass, that loved to be rubbed on your body, arm, or by your hand, and that caused her to arch her back off the bed when you sucked and nibbled a cherry.

Her eighteen-inch waist was incredibly tiny, and her hips flared out improbably just below. She loved for me to run my hand over the tremendous curves created by the hips flaring so remarkably, almost as much as I loved running my hands over them. Especially while tonguing her belly button, which made her giggle but also wriggle her butt.

I've described her legs, but I could write a poem about the faultless junction of thigh, ass, and hip. All that perfection meeting in one place was mesmerizing and required hours to explore with hands, mouth, and tongue. Have I mentioned that she tastes like honeydew melons, and her natural smell is so fascinating that I sometimes just sniff her various body parts - which also makes her giggle? It might be the pheromones she emits like perfume, but in any case, even her odor is sexy.

So, if my senses of sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell are excited by this young girl, it follows that the rest of me feels the same, right? No. There is a section of my head that rises above the sensory sensations, the fact that she is as plasma-hot in bed, whether using fingers, tongue, or cock, as she appears. The part that says 'Rich girl from established upper-crust family; four years of college as a cheerleader and hot sorority girl, then grad or law school. If you think you're getting THAT for anything but an occasional playmate, if you're lucky, you are delusional!'

Didn't keep me from wallowing in the feelings, but it did keep me from falling into a pit of sorrow caused by wanting what you can't have. Guys like me don't end up with girls like her! Although River did...

I'm not sure how to describe the Permian Basin/ eastern New Mexico in May, but let's just say it's a huge (250 miles x 300 miles) sedimentary basin that produces more than 5 million cubic feet of oil and 1.3 million barrels of oil per day. It's also rich in Potash, mining of which is largely in the Carlsbad mining district. I explained all that to my traveling companion, who was properly attired for the 100-degree May weather.

The sandals, red shorts, and white tank top did cause work stoppages at each site on her first day as my Intern. They had already seen her at my party, so this get-up was merely proof of what they were sure was under her party clothes. Still, you don't see someone who looks like that often, so you have to soak it up when you can.

On day 2, I was invited to stop by Jerry's house to review the final contracts, and to enjoy a cold brew and a burger. I informed Tom that I would gladly do that, but my intern was riding with me and neither of us were properly dressed for a party, even an informal one. He said that would not be a problem.

I had no doubt at all that he and Jerry would have no problem with it, but I wasn't so sure about the two ladies. As gorgeous as they are, this kind of pulchritude wrapped in stars and stripes-painted athletic shoes, red, white, and blue short shorts, and a white T-back emblazoned with gold stars, might be disconcerting. I had no idea.

The mini sexpot wanted to go back to the trailer and change, but we were at a worksite a hundred miles west of Jerry's house, and it was nearly that distance from the trailer, so I had to decline. Then she insisted I take her somewhere to buy clothes, and I told her to map where we are and ask where the nearest clothing store is. She did, made a mad face, and told me I would stop somewhere and let her put on some makeup or I would not enjoy the consequences.

I detoured to a small truck stop/convenience store/eatery, set her free, and filled up with diesel. She went through the convenience store and eatery like a whirlwind, causing head to turn like they were twisted, and entered the restroom in the hallway. She returned ten minutes later, with the entire population watching like buzzards on a highline. She gave them her riding-on-a-float smile, stopped in front of me in front of the work truck, and asked, "Well?"

My gaze lingered on her shoes and matching ankle socks, her shorts, her shirt, and finally rested on her face. "You were only a twelve or thirteen when you went inside, but you're easily a fourteen now! Think we can head to the hamburger supper?"

She slugged me on the arm pretty good, called me a shit-for-brains turd, and waited for me to open the door. "Oh, putting on airs now, are we? A little eyeshadow, mascara, and eyeliner, and suddenly you expect chivalry from me?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, while opening her door.

She tried, but failed to keep from laughing, climbed in, turned the visor so she could look at the mirror on the back, took a selfie and studied it, decided she looked good enough, and slid into the middle. With a hint of arrogance, she asked, "What is this messed-up scoring system for women? I've always been told I was a 10, until you came along!"

"I aggregate looks, brains, and personality, up to four points each, with a bonus point for exceptionality in each rating area. You figure it out."

She thought about it while I drove 85 to get there on time, and then pinched me on the leg. "So where am I falling short? Looks, brains, or personality?"

"Oh, you're a solid four in each realm, plus an exceptionality point in each. But I have to subtract for being 18 and a college freshman. Before you asked to ride with me, I was subtracting four points for age and lack of real-world orientation, what with your Dallas Highland Park Scotties Homecoming Queen background and upper-class breeding.

"But after riding across western-most Texas and a good chunk of eastern New Mexico for two days with you, I've given back two of those points. You ask great questions, care about what we're doing, and you can talk to a bunch of leering oilfield workers with poise and grace, just as you do to the billionaire oilman/ ranch owner. Pretty impressive, for a privileged teenager."

"You are a judgmental prick, aren't ya? So, tell me how I went into a C-store restroom and came out a 14?"

"I hate to admit it, but I had to break my own rules and give you a second exceptionality point for looks."

She slugged me on the arm, called me a prick, giggled, and laid that head covered with golden flax on my shoulder. I didn't say it out loud, but I silently awarded her a second exceptionality point for personality.

Everyone was in the backyard when we arrived, and everyone included River, or at least his good pickup, which meant Katrina was also here. We walked around the corner and made it halfway to them before being spotted. The official dress of the hot evening was the skimpy sundress for the ladies, and shorts and tees for the men, so we weren't that far off.

Nonetheless, our appearance ended conversations and caused heads to turn our way. Since they had seen me in lace-up boots, hiking shorts, and a tee shirt before, I assumed the looks were for the mini sexpot on my arm. She wore her outfit well and accepted the looks with aplomb, never missing a beat or a step. Once there, she exchanged hugs and kisses with everyone, calling them by name, commenting on how gorgeous each woman looked, and telling each man how glad she was to see him again. I could tell she was hard to hate and easy to love; but already I knew that.

River got the show rolling by asking, "So, Theo, when did I start paying you to squire a beautiful young woman around instead of working?"

"Meet my intern, Boss. She's a freshman in the limited enrollment Bob L. Herd Department of Petroleum Engineering at Texas Tech University, and she asked if she could ride with me to see the Permian Basin firsthand and learn about the niche jobs, like those we do, that keep the oil field running and clean.

"So far, I'm awarding her a B+. She's bright, asks incisive questions, and draws good conclusions. The only drawback is the work stoppages she causes at each site, but I do believe the workers return to their jobs refreshed and inspired after talking to her and explaining what they are doing and why, so maybe I'll have to rethink that. In any case, I'm getting good feedback on her efforts."

"I'll bet you are!" Tom exclaimed. "But I hope she hasn't started any more brouhaha. I'm still tired and sore from the last one!"

She gave him a second hug, called them all her white knights, and offered her appreciation again. The women kind of rolled their eyes and grinned, but they could appreciate a young one of their own kind at work.

Red blooded men of the married variety do their best, but you can't help but watch something like Shannon, so they did. I ignored their voyeurism, as did their wives, seemingly, but there would be a price to pay. It might be jewelry, it might be a spa visit, or it might be a long time with their heads under the sheets, but there would be a price. Still, they watched; it was worth the cost!

She knew it. After all, this was her life. There had not been an age at which people didn't stop to tell her parents, or her, how gorgeous she was. Hers was a rare combination of attributes, and the result was stunning. She was used to being leered at, being the center of attention, winning contests and elections: being the 'chosen one'.

She tried to live up to it, but as Theo was learning, that was not Shannon. Shannon was a much more complex person: high IQ, deep thinker, great curiosity, interest in the wider world around her and the environment, mature and rational beyond her age, and with a legitimate interest in individuals and humankind. He was guilty of prejudging her; she was not guilty of prejudging anyone.

And, she was honest to a fault, as she proved that evening. They were sitting around the table on the patio, shooting the breeze under the ceiling fans, with the men engaged in one conversation and the women in another, on opposite ends of the table, when Doris quietly asked, "So, you and Theo?"

"Oh! He's pretty much everything I want in a man, and my family loves him, but... I'm a freshman entering a six-year program of study. I'm a legacy Chi Omega, and I'll be joining my sisters on the football cheer squad. Theo is a budding millionaire - yes, I did some research on him - and he has a lucrative and bright future doing what he does, which he loves doing.

"There is no doubt I could love him like no other, but... I have six years of living to get where he is, and I'm not going to ask him to ignore all the things I'll be doing and wait for me to grow up. A thousand girls and women will have thrown themselves at him by then, and, based on what I've learned in two nights, he's quite accomplished with women already.

"So, as much as it will pain me, we will part tomorrow to continue our lives, and that will be that. Now, in six years, if he should still be available, I'll pursue him like no one ever has or could! But that's a pipe dream and I know it. So, we will part, I'll spend the next week crying about it, and then get on with my life, saying a prayer nightly that he is doing well and is happy."

All three mommas had tears in their eyes, knowing this youngster was more mature than most forty-year-olds, and that she and Theo would be a match made in heaven. If only.

That made the conversation at their end of the table turn somber, and the men were already running out of hot air, so they called it a night. On the way home, I asked what happened down there, and she told me. "Doris asked me..., and I told her..."

That was a conversation I was dreading having, and she did it for me on the way home. I almost raised an argument, but hers was airtight, so I just cuddled her against my chest and held her all the way to the trailer. We only had tonight, but we used every second of it.

She loaded up and headed out the next morning, even more morose because I had introduced her that night to a form of sex she had never encountered: love making. It was by far the best sex she had ever had, and she wanted that every night, until eternity. So did I.

I don't know if she cried for a week, because the only contact we had, by agreement, was her letting me know she had arrived safely, followed by a string of hearts. I sent back Xs and Os, and that was that. Oh, I became an avid Red Raider football fan, just to catch that glimpse on TV - somehow, she was most frequently the cheerleader chosen for a spot - and I went to a few home games, sitting high enough that she couldn't see me, but I could watch her with binoculars. I knew I was a sad SOB, but she was an addiction I found hard to give up.

Two years passed; I stopped stalking her after six months and bedded a bevy of choice pussy, but my heart stayed footloose and fancy free. And then Julie came home to the ranch, and they killed the fatted calf. Jule Bean, MD, was at least as gorgeous as her mother and aunt, she had a heart of gold, and she had hired on with the local rural health organization so she could serve the people she grew up with.

Lustrous black hair, chocolate brown eyes, a killer smile, and a tight, slender, and sexy body. An exercise freak who strictly followed a healthy diet, which showed in her complexion and her body distribution, she stood 5'7" tall, with a slightly disproportionate share being legs. She had a tight little butt atop those long legs, and jutting boobs. She came nowhere near Shannon's hips to waist to bust ratio, but no one did, and hers was certainly pleasing to the eyes.

We got along well from the start, her parents approved - no, they were ecstatic - and, after East Coast, Ivy League, med school lovers, Julie was ecstatic to have a homeboy who could make her yelp, scream, and beg for mercy. She told me over and over that she had NEVER had sex like sex with me, and just being around me caused her juices to flow and her heart to race.

It wasn't the white-hot sex I had shared with Shannon, but I didn't ever expect to encounter that again, and I hadn't - even with Glenda and Cindy, my previous standards of comparison. But this was the best I'd had outside the two women who were too old for me, and the girl who was too young.

I enjoyed being with someone so intelligent and driven, and so considerate and kind to those she served. She was hot, smart, a good woman, and she loved me. What more could a man want?

We went on little side trips to places not so far away, because serving rural health clinics and ERs in Hobbs, Artesia, and Carlsbad didn't leave her a lot of free time. We enjoyed hiking in and around Guadalupe Peak, had a fun, drunken weekend in El Paso, and reveled in a four-day respite in Big Bend National Park, with our Chisos Basin campsite serving as headquarters.

When I finally hit the knee, a year after she returned and we met, she eagerly accepted. Doris and Jerry, with Diane and Tom, had been preparing for that all year, so the busy doctor didn't have that much to do to have a dream wedding, and the itinerant oil field worker was happy to let others decide that about which he knew next to nothing.

The trailer in Orla wasn't a fit residence, nor central, so I spent some cash buying a nice 4 bedroom, 4 bath house on 2 acres in Carlsbad, and we 'set up housekeeping,' as they used to say. The wedding was too big for any of the Episcopal Churches in the area, so her parents upgraded their yard with sidewalks, a gazebo, and a concrete slab/ dancing area.

Katrina and River were stand-ins for my family, none of whom were invited. They got the band, organized the rehearsal dinner, and reserved tuxedos for me and my groomsmen. I would have been content with my best man, River, standing beside me, but Julie had Shay Lynn, two old friends from high school, and sorority sisters and fellow med students from back east to involve, so I had to dig deep.

Other than River and the Bean Brothers, I was closest to Abe, who eagerly accepted, and the compadres with whom I had worked all these years and with whom I still lived and broke bread, but they unanimously declined, knowing the furor that would bring.