You're Always 17 Ch. 02

You're Always 17 in Your Hometown, Ch.2

The concluding chapter is long: over 40,000 words, so take that into consideration before you start. Like a number of other authors on this site, I've connected the characters and storylines from two stories. If you haven't read The Billy Goat Hill Pundits series, I hope you will.

From the conclusion of Chapter 1: The serious face remained, but the tiniest sign of a grin tickled her mouth. That was all it took; in two longs strides I was there, wrapping her in my arms, and admitting to being a fool where she is concerned. She giggled and said I should remember that in the future, and then wrapped me in her arms and snuggled her head against my chest.

Standing there on these god-forsaken, dry and dusty plains of west Texas, holding the girl of my dreams, surrounded by friends celebrating her return, my heart was bursting with love and appreciation. I couldn't see but a handful of my compatriots, but those I could either had tears in their eyes or grins that split their faces. I think I had both.

****

We drank a little too much beer, ate too many pork ribs, and they told far too many stories about the months after Shannon left, including my relentless pursuit of women for a few months the next winter, my indecision before marrying Julie, and my anger and angst when I learned of Julie's treachery. For a bunch of migrant laborers of questionable legal status, their insights into their token gringo's mind were as clear and strong as their work ethics.

Shannon also shared. After a semester, she switched from petroleum engineering into a five-year professional certification program available in Environmental Sciences. She lacked only an internship to graduate in August. As a legacy, she pledged Chi O, went through rush, attended all the mandatory mixers, got to know a lot of nice Tech students and too many horny frat rats of questionable social value.

She had been a cheerleader all four years of undergrad and was named 'All-Campus Beauty' the only three years she let the sorority nominate her. University had been the experience she had sought; she had learned a lot about people and posers, and she would graduate Summa Cum Laude if her internship supervisor, some guy with the improbable name of River, gave her an A. Two weeks into her internship, she was feeling good about her chances.

Maybe the best outcome of the barbeque and beer drinking was that I gained a roommate, a senior intern for Pitaya Ventures, LLC. When we stumbled inside to clean up and get some rest, I found she had usurped the closet in the spare bedroom and the unused portion of mine. Seeing the colorful athletic shoes and high heels hanging on shoe racks I'd never before seen in my tailor was pretty cool, and it was even cooler seeing the tiny dresses hanging in the other closet.

"Pretty confident, weren't you?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course - I know you can't resist me!" she replied glibly. "Especially in the shower." With that, she shucked the shorts, tee shirt, and sandals, and darted into the shower. That sucker ain't exactly meant for two, but I made it inside and we got the door shut. After that, we only needed enough room to soap and rinse each other, and we took turns kneeling to ensure the lower parts were as clean as the upper.

I tried to taste test her inner spaces to ensure my manipulations had been successful, but she wasn't having that. "No, no, no!" she insisted, "You can test that in the bed where I have a pillow for my mouth, but not in here!"

I gave it a snaky lick or few anyway, which caused her to shiver and whimper, and easing a soapy finger into her rosebud brought the volume and the resistance up several levels.

I thought I was pretty cute, having made her whimper like that, but I should have gone last. She swallowed a considerable portion of my cock, worked it over with her tongue, and just as soon as it was steel-hard, she began fisting my virgin butthole! Ultimately, she told me it was only two fingers, but it felt like four and a thumb, or maybe a yellow squash!

She laughed at my thrashing about, removed the vegetable, rinsed the blood out of my crack, and made fun of me, all while kneeling with wet hair! She was unquestionably the most beautiful creature on earth, to look that good in these conditions!

I dried her, she dried me, and I chased her to the bed, where she leapt in the air and did some mid-air maneuver by which she ended up with her head on the end and her cute little feet by the headboard. I'd never seen an invitation to 69 before, but the spread legs and open mouth, like a baby bird wanting a worm, made her desires clear.

Damn she tasted good! Her inner thighs tasted good, her sweet pussy was delicious, and her little asshole was pungently delectable. I bit her incomparable butt all over, nibbled on her thighs where the nectar was already flowing, tongue-probed her cervix, and then nibbled and sucked on that swollen clit like a starving man.

She wasn't idle during all this, but I was a man on a mission and just drunk enough to ignore anything not on my menu, including my knob being frantically polished while she writhed around on the bed and made happy cries around it.

As soon as the first quake passed, I rolled on my side, picked her up, and set her down on my rampant cock, in reverse cowgirl. "Now, flip around, stick one of those amazing titties in my mouth, and fuck me like you mean it!"

You can't imagine the sensation of having a perfect C-cup breast in your mouth, your hands on an ass that would make a Kardasian jealous, and the hottest, wettest, and tightest pussy you can envision sliding up and down and all around your cock while that pouty mouth talks potty talk about your prowess as a stud - unless you've had Shannon Barnes riding you cowgirl!

I have no idea how we both shot our rocks so powerfully all we wanted to do was cuddle and sleep, but we did.

It was barely daylight when I awoke and found her gone from my bed. I didn't like that, but I loved hearing her humming and singing parts of The Happiest Girl in the Whole USA. She welcomed the morning, helloed the sunshine, and even insisted she make my lunch and I make hers.

There is no degree of cuteness you've even seen that compares to Shannon Barnes' in panties and an A-line rayon-spandex shirt, and I knew we had to talk, soon. I had already fallen right back into the same rabbit hole, and I needed some assurance this wasn't just another three-day affair.

My serious statement, "Shannon, we need to talk," begat a very upbeat, "Okay, Honey. You're my supervisor, so we're riding together on your trip to Santa Fe today and we'll have plenty of time to talk! But we're kind of getting a late start and I know you don't want to be late for these appointments, so let's get dressed and started. Then we can talk."

She was right: we were five hours from Santa Fe, and even our late lunch appointments would be endangered if we didn't get on the road. She nixed the black pinstripe in favor of the tan suit, brown boots, and 10x Silver Belly Stetson hat. I dressed as directed, walked to the dressing area she had laid claim to, and got her approval.

"Get all your stuff loaded, put my shoulder bag in the back seat, and I'll be ready in five!"

The conservative, loose fitting but body conforming beige dress with red belt ended at her knee, and her pumps had two-inch heels. It was casual business attire, as was my light suit, and we looked good together. However, the appreciative whistles and catcalls from the crews heading to the fields validated my opinion as I escorted her to my truck; she would make a tent dress look sexy!

We were halfway to New Mexico before I remembered we needed to talk, and then I wasn't sure how to end the chatter and broach the subject. Finally, I blurted out, "Shannon, there is an eerie similarity between your last internship and this one! You show up unannounced, we drink and talk with everyone, fall into bed, and have great - no, make that amazing - sex!

"The thing I need to know is whether this is another three-day whirlwind affair, or something more. I don't think I can live through watching you drive away again."

She chuckled, shook her head, and said, "Well, let's see if there are any differences between what happened over five years ago and now. I was 18 then, facing college with all its opportunities and temptations; now I'm 23 and a six-hour internship from graduating - see the difference?

"When I came last time, did I bring a good portion of my wardrobe and take over half your trailer? Was that internship sanctioned by TTU, like this one is? Are you beginning to identify any clues?

"Okay, let's try the next. Did you even consider that my showing up a few days after your divorce became final might not be coincidental?

"I mean, you've been keeping up with me through my brother, and I've been stalking you. You didn't know I knew?

"And finally, the confession: I fell so deeply in love with you over those three days that I prayed daily that you would be available when I finally got out of school. I cried for days at your engagement, and for weeks when you got married.

But Brad ran a thorough background check on your fiancée and became suspicious, so he ran periodic checks on her after that. When the name Jack Higgins came up in one of those reports, he had him investigated. He was waiting for the final report before he told you, but he told me he thought she was cheating on you with Higgins.

"I know you, and I know that shit won't fly with you, so I let my hopes rise. When the shit hit the fan at the reunion, I felt terrible for you, but good for myself. So, I made and executed my plans, and I was ready when the final decree came down.

"I might or might not have had assistance from your friends at the mancamp, and they might or might not have provided insider information on you and your emotional state. River and Katrina might or might not have added more information, and River might or might not have contacted the dean to ensure my internship was with Pitaya Ventures.

"I can't confirm or deny any of that because I may have made promises, and I don't break promises. But, bottom line, Theodore Monroe, is that I love you and I intend to go to sleep and wake up beside you until eternity! Hopefully as Mrs. Theodore Monroe Carr.

"Any questions?"

"Not really. I think you filled things in nicely. I'll fill you in a bit more some other time, but we're an hour out and haven't gone over the agenda and my - our - responses to the questions the assistant Land Commissioner and the State Director of Oil, Gas, and Minerals have raised."

She turned, snagged her shoulder bag, extracted her laptop, and gave me a question-by-question response from River himself, as well as instructions to do it my way; these responses were his contribution and certainly not mandatory. I laughed and said she had just earned the right to provide the responses, and I would fill things out a bit.

She started to argue, but shrugged, said okay, and set about rereading River's responses and her notes. I was buying, so they had picked the (most expensive) restaurant, and had a private room reserved there.

I expected Greg's response at seeing my associate; he was a ladies' man from way back. Amy's surprised me. She's a brilliant and beautiful woman who resents any implication that she slept her way to the top - and she really didn't. She's the most competent and knowledgeable official I've dealt with in OGM, but she's not above wearing short dresses and exposing her quite lovely legs to get her way. The dress she was wearing told me she expected to be dealing with me and wanted me distracted and docile.

I expected her to resent Shannon; instead, she immediately identified a kindred spirit, and a business friendship was born that would benefit both for years to come.

Greg seemed to have lost the ability to converse; perhaps his blood had fled south, leaving him mute and bumfuzzled. Doesn't really matter; yes, he's Amy's boss on the hierarchical chart, but as Director of OGM she would have final say - assuming this is a legitimate meeting, and not something of a political nature. In that case, Greg would take the lead.

We drank a cocktail, ate a 4* meal, and then Amy opened her laptop. "As you are aware, we recently got $47 billion dollars to plug and clean up 'Orphaned Wells.' Pitaya Ventures has been involved in cleanup operations in New Mexico for several years, and is the company of choice for many, if not most, landowners in Eastern New Mexico.

"You represent the final concern that has been invited to advise us before we draw up the bid specifications, and we have a number of questions for you. First question: do we split the bids into capping and plugging on the one hand, and cleanup operations on the other? Your response.

Shannon looked at me, and I nodded. She began our response based on River's input, and it was an excellent response. "We at Pitaya Ventures, based on our vast experience in cleanup operations in coordination with oil companies and drilling companies, firmly believe the 'turnkey' method will best serve the state, the landowners, and the environment.

"No, we don't plug and cap, but we work with several companies that do, and we have successful experience with them on numerous projects.

"When the work is divided among contracts with different entities and problems arise, the natural inclination is to blame the other company. If a single entity is responsible, the state knows who to hold responsible, and, we believe, that entity is more careful in planning and executing the operations at each site. Therefore, we strongly recommend you go with turnkey bids."

Amy looked at Shannon for a moment, then looked at me. "Theo, anything to add?"

"No mam, I believe she covered it all."

"How about numbers? Are there enough companies like yours to bid a project this big?"

I took this one. "A project this big requires that it be broken into smaller pieces. Set priorities, offer those with higher priority for bid first, and see what you get. If possible, factor geographic proximity into your decision, because moving crews among distant sites is more costly and time consuming.

"We would expect the state to have a good idea who would bid, because we are all required to pass the exam and be approved by you to do business here. If you're asking whether we, any other entity, or any group of entities, are big enough to bid the whole enchilada, then no. We don't have and can't hire enough conscientious, trainable workers to take this on at once, and neither can anyone else. We can handle it in pieces, yes; but not the whole enchilada at one time. And don't let anyone tell you they can.

"Shannon, anything to add?" She simply replied that she did not, and Amy turned to technical specifications that probably only River and I understood, but Shannon faked beautifully.

Greg must have had the afternoon off, because he continued drinking and ogling the lovelies, which I admittedly also did while they were in conversation with each other. The difference was, he was leaning over the table drinking and watching their lovely faces. From my vantage point, pushed away from the table a bit and at a 45-degree angle from Shannon, I had a great view of Amy's legs under the table, and Shannon's on this side.

As the afternoon wore on, their discretion declined. Dresses rode up, legs spread apart, and more and more skin showed. It was almost as if they were having a contest. And then I caught the smirks, and knew I was busted.

"I apologize, but, honestly, it's extremely rare that two sets of gams as lovely as these are on display to a poor boy like me, and my male nature overcame my adherence to decorum. Since neither of you has ended the show, I have to believe you aren't terribly offended."

That broke Greg's spell. He hurriedly pushed his chair back to get a view, but the performance ended the moment he made his move. He frowned and looked disappointed, but Amy gave me a wink and a quick beaver shot when he raised his eyes. She then exchanged winks with Shannon, and they giggled like schoolgirls.

It was after four when we got back to the truck, so I proposed we get a room for the night and enjoy Santa Fe. Shannon said she was sorry, but these were the only clothes she brought. "What? No Go Bag! Come on, Girl - that's the first thing you learn in this business: always grab your Go Bag when you saddle up!"

She looked young and sheepish for a change, so I proposed we stop at a store I know and put one together. She thought that was a great idea, and an hour later, so did I. Unlike Julie, she walked into an area, surveyed the stock, picked a couple of things to try on, tried them on, chose the ones that looked best, and moved on to the next area. Of course, it helps when you look spectacular in everything you try on, whether pants, shorts, or dresses, and including swimwear, lingerie, and sleepwear. She and the sales lady had it all folded and put into her new Go Bag within five minutes of River's credit card clearing.

I booked a room in my favorite historic hotel in Oldtown while she was in the changing room, and that's where we headed after she bought toiletries at a chain drugstore.

Lesson learned: never take her to a swimming pool that's teaming with baseball teams in town for a tournament. She almost caused a riot, and then told me that was to even us up for my obsession with Amy's legs.

I insisted she wear jeans for our walk to a New Mexican food café that has been in operation for over one hundred years. It was probably an improvement from wearing a dress, certainly from shorts, and absolutely from a bikini, but she still got whistled at, talked to, and flirted with right in my face. It was nothing to her but disturbing to me, until it wasn't. Maybe I got numb, or just accepted my fate.

We were waiting for a table, surrounded by fit young men from baseball teams, when our names were called. We - she - excused us, and we were escorted to our table. I was following Shannon and the waitress down an aisle when they turned right, and I was face to face with Jack Higgins and my ex.

Julie looked surprised; Higgins looked stricken. Seizing the moment, I called Shannon back, took her to their table, and said, "Shannon Barnes, this is my ex-wife, Julie Bean, and this is her lover, Jack Higgins. Or are you married now that I'm out of the picture?"

"Not that it's your business, but we're engaged," Higgins answered.

Shannon looked at Higgens, and then went directly to Julie. She shook her hand enthusiastically and said, "I want to thank the two of you from the bottom of my heart! I thought I had lost him forever, but you set him free again, and now he is mine forever! Again, thank you both!" She shook Higgins' hand just as enthusiastically, and then suggested we go to our table.

Once we were seated, she asked, "Is she really a Johns Hopkins-educated medical doctor? Because anyone that would trade you for that wimpy slimeball is dumb as a box of rocks or has a bunch of screws loose!"

Then she put her hand behind my neck, pulled my face to meet hers, and showed the whole place how the term "passionate kiss" originated. The waitress stood there patiently, watching, until Shannon released my head and leaned back in her chair. Our waitress was 18-20 and a real cutey. She grinned at Shannon and said, "I'm sorry I didn't respect your privacy, but once I started watching I couldn't stop! You are the hottest woman I've ever seen, and I mean that with great respect!"

"Thanks, but you're plenty hot yourself! Do you live here, go to school here, or what?"

"I was born and raised here, and I'm taking classes at SFCC, trying to get my required courses out of the way as cheaply as I can. If I somehow raise enough money from my two jobs, my dream is to go to Texas Tech next year. My interest is environmental sciences, and they have several programs I'm exploring.