Friday, March 16, 2007

Chapter 16 Diane

Diana, or Diane, tomato or tomatoe. The spelling doesn't really matter. This gal was something else. I met her that fateful night of my first threesome. She was the least shy of the two young ladies who picked me up. At least it seemed that way. We hit it off immediately and it was lust at first sight. If you recall, I was sitting home in a nearly empty house after my Ex # 1 moved out. I desired a beer so I chose the little country bar just to the Southeast of the US75 - Nowata Road intersection. The place behind the little motel. I marched in and had a beer and was about to leave when one of the two women approached me. More details are in the chapter entitled, Menage ... That night I knew I had something special and was sad to see her go as I wistfully watched her and her friend leave that morning. This 110lb little lady had a gymnast's body and could arch her back and lift my 190lbs off the bed in her throws of ecstasy. I had to hook my arms around her back and over her shoulders to keep her muscles from squeezing me out like greased salami. The description does not do it justice. It is no wonder she was popular. The next morning I went on to work at R&D then caught the shuttle bus down to the old Frank Phillips Office Building. I worked at a satellite imagery interpretation work station inside an old bank vault in the bowels of the building. I sat in the dark and could still feel Diane clasped around my member. No shit. I guess it was like when they say you can feel an amputated limb long after it was gone. I could still feel her around me. Mid day the phone in the Vault rings and they say I have a call. I picked up and my heart jumped. It was her. I could not believe it. I asked how she found me and she said she called the Phillips directory and she got my office and they forwarded the call to where I was. I was dumbstruck. I guess I made as bit an impression on her as she did on me. She said she wanted to see me again. My mind raced for a millisecond before I said I'd like to see her too. I was now living alone as my Ex #1 had moved into an apartment on the East Side. She moved out while I was in Giddings or some other place doing field work. That was one reason I happened to walk into the threesome, I had left the nearly empty house to go have a beer. Anyway, Diane worked at the old Savings and Loan over on Adams Blvd. across from the hospital. The place went belly, the S&L bust of the late 80's catching up to it in the early 90's. But at the time it was still in business. We started a torrid affair. I knew she was married and lived in Dewey. She was unhappy, and had just had a baby. It might have been coming off of the pregnancy she was looking for reassurance that she was still attractive. Her husband may not have been paying attention to her. In the event we would meet at lunch and after work and on weekends. Whenever she could get away. Eventually she started feeling guilty and we stopped seeing each other. That lasted for a while then she dropped by again. Eventually I had to go into the field for more work. My Ex # 1 was no longer living with me but we hadn't filed for divorce. She would drop in to collect her mail and check on my progress renovating the house. It was on one of these visits that she intercepted a letter from Diane to me. So much for the sanctity of the US mail. She called Diane's husband and the balloon went up. It was ugly, but quickly abated. Diane went back to her husband and we filed for divorce. Then Diane filed for divorce and got an apartment. I then think she moved back. We saw each other for sex now and then, but I got transferred to Houston and we fell out of touch. When I came back and settled in Tulsa we got back in touch and started seeing each other again. She had divorced and remarried, then divorced. I think he was a fireman and she just could not stop running around. I used to stop by her place in Dewey on my way back from duck hunting. She'd still be in bed, I'd shower and crawl in with her have sex and we'd sleep till noon then go out for breakfast. She invited me to the savings and loan Christmas party dinner and I went. We sat across from a middle aged woman named Sharon. Little did I know that she was my Future Ex #2 step mother and the her husband, my future father-in-law was a co-worker with Diane husband at the Dewey High school. This small world was about to get smaller. I was now on Sharon's radar screen as the philandering lout who had broken up Diane's marriage. Well, I don't know that, because I had been in Houston for a while and she had already gone through another husband. But when my name came up with my future father-in-law, I bet my name was familiar from when my Ex #1 had called Diane's husband. Diane was strapped for money after her divorce and she started to work at the Country Club in the dining room. She met a couple of guys that worked there as well. These two were two of four roommates that lived in a house over west of me south of Adams Blvd. One of the guys named Kent worked for Reda Pump and another worked at a shoe store off of Frank Phillips Blvd down town. His name was Ron. I got to know the two of them and we golfed together now and then. Kent had been a competitive water skier. Ron just like to party and probably drank a little too much for his own good. I held a pig roast over at their place one year and we did a pizza party on another occasion. Good guys. The other two slots changed out a couple of times. There was one ladies man who dated a gal named Dana. I admit I had a crush on her for a while. She had this Karen Allen thing going, but with a much nicer rack. She was a beautiful brunette with freckles and a killer smile. Problem was she was just too shallow. We went on one date. She didn't much like my three tone pick-up truck. We went to a disco in Tulsa that has a televised spot on one of the local stations on Saturday night. That was the selling point for her. All she could ever talk about at the time was how much she wanted a Nissan 280Z with the Dallas Cowboy Package. Baby blue and silver with a blue interior. Way cool! She lived over on Keeler or Jennings with some roommates. The gal had a lot of potential, but her pretty looks could not offset her shear mind numbing stupidity and dullness. In high school there is no doubt she was in the beautiful people clique. If that were not enough to put me off, Mr. Ladie's Man went into plenty of detail about her performance in bed to make the rest of us luke warm in light of the potential meager returns. She sounded like missionary wife material. No head, body looked better in cloths than not, etc. I thought she looked pretty good, especially her outstanding rack. He on the other hand disabused us of the notion saying that "she had a set of spaghetti straps". Well, I was right in one regard; she ended up marrying a minister there in Bartlesville. I don't know if they still live in town or not. After Mr. Ladie's Man moved on, a couple of other locals moved in. This is where Diane enters the picture. I used to take Ron duck hunting with me and I came over early one morning and there Diane was laying buck naked in bed with two of them. I guess I woke her up as I continued on through the house to get Ron from his room in the back. When I came back out to the front, she had hopped up and beat feet into the bathroom. I guess a few after work drinks had led her back to their bed. I was seeing Diane on occasion when I moved back from Houston. I had met a beautiful secretary at PPCo who worked in Accounting. We started to date. She came and stayed with me on weekends when her son was with her ex in Tahlequah. I would occasionally stay with her in Bartlesville. Come one Valentine's Day, I was going to be out of the country, so I arranged to have roses delivered to Diane and the other young woman, who was destined to be my Future Ex #2. I had the roses sent to them both at work. This is when I found out that Diane worked with my future ex mother-in-law. The Future Ex Mother in law got an excited call from her daughter (actually step daughter) telling her I had sent her roses. I can imagine the glee with which she told my Future Ex #2 that I had sent roses to Diane too. Heretofore they didn't know about one another. They had no reason to. Diane could have cared less, but of course, my Future Ex #2 did care. When I came back I was given an ultimatum by my Future Ex #2, either her or Diane. Since I only saw Diane on rare occasions, the choice was easy. My Future Ex #2 was a 5'7" stunner who turned heads when she walked in the room. On our honeymoon in on Grand Cayman, she caused a band to stop in mid song. No shit. We walked into a club, walked across the dance floor and the house band, Barefoot Man, a noted reggae band, stopped n mid song. The lead singer had a few choice complimentary comments to my wife's chagrin. It was not surprising, my Future Ex #2 was a jaw dropping 34D-21-32 sheathed in a tight hot pink Lycra dress. I never saw Diane again. Later I heard Diane married an attorney, had another child or maybe two. One died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. She got divorced later and may still be in the area. My ex-mother-in-law used to keep me up to date on the latest news about her seeing how my ex-father in law still worked with her first husband. Diane was a very nice woman, with a whippet like gymnast's body, consumed with working out. I bet the gal didn't have over 5% body fat. She had a few issues with self esteem, fueled I am sure by things said by her first husband's holier than thou family. I remember her talking about how people even her in-laws looked down on her and her mother, coming as they were from the "poor side of town", doot do do wha shoobie doobie.... So I guess she was driven to pull herself up any way she could, but she just gave more grist to the gossip and rumor mills. On the subject of self esteem. I knew more than a few young women in B'ville that labored under that cloud. I don't know what causes it. It could be the conflicting demands or expectations. Case in point. I knew a gal cute as a button. Had guys eating out of her hand all through HS. But she used them and abused them due in large part because that is how she saw her mother manipulate men. After HS she could not buy a date so she focused on her career. Now, the kind of guy she wanted to meet and marry was a country type. Do you see a conflict coming? Well, every guy she meets that fits the mold she wants expects her to stay home and watch the kids. Well long story short, she is now approaching 40. She has had at least 3 broken engagements and currently no prospects in sight. How does that impact self esteem? Well tell gals that they should have kids and some do. Some have careers. Her sister had the kids. Then labored under the cloud that she was something less than her younge sister because she didn't have the college degree that her sister did. Add to that an abusive first husband, and an abusive step dad and you have a woman that starts to believe what everyone has told her about herself. I remember a post pregnant Diane telling me her husband had told her that no one would ever want her except him. Well, she proved him wrong, over and over again.

Update:  As of 2018 Diane is still in Green Country. Her original ex, died unexpectedly a year or two ago from a heart attack and was missed by all who knew him. Diane is single again, and has had her little B cups pumped up to something that looks like EEs. She is involved in real estate or something like that. I wish her all the best. She is still a very attractive lady.

Chapter 15 Ménage à Trois

Yes, boys and girls it does happen in Bartlesville. I had just agreed to a separation with Future Ex #1. I was living on South Cherokee, a block or two from the Frank Phillips Mansion. Judging from what I've heard about old Frank, he would have been proud of my exploits in the bedroom. The first threesome occurred one night when I had decided to leave my nearly empty house and have a beer. I had just returned from a 4 week stint in Montana during which my Ex # 1 had just moved to an apartment on the east side. The empty space and the echo in the partially empty house had gotten depressing, so I decided to go out for a beer before turning in. For a change, I drove to old country bar behind the motel at the corner of Woodland Loop and 75. I can't remember the name of the place. But it was a nice enough and had live music and always seemed busy. I think it was a Wednesday night. I parked my pick up; I hadn't bought the MGB yet and was driving an old F-100. I walked in behind two young women who looked to be having a good time. They were laughing and giggling. I bought a can of beer and was standing by one of the ivy covered drooling lion fountains hanging on the wall. You know the ones where the water runs from their mouths in an endless stream into a basin beneath. I had just about had enough of the band and was ready to leave, when one of the two gals I followed in came up to me asked me to join them. I sat at their table. They seemed to know a lot of people as they came and went over the next hour. I danced with them in shifts as they socialized. Every time I was ready to leave, they would want a dance. Near closing, I really was ready to leave, but one of the two wanted one more dance. WI was dancing with the young woman I'll call Deborah. She said that her friend, Diana wanted to go home with me. She hummed and hawed, then said "Well we both want to go home with you." A light went on in my head. So be it. I talked with her a bit more to make sure they were sure and this wasn't just a big put on. I still was not convinced that I wasn't just being set up for a joke. Well I gave them directions to my house and we left at closing so no one would see us leave together. I was fully convinced that I would see their headlights turn off somewhere between 75 and Cherokee. But no. they followed me to the house and asked that I let them pull in ahead of me. Now mind you. Everyone, and I mean everyone that I knew, knew where I lived and Cherokee is busy street. So if there was a strange car in my driveway, someone would bring it to my attention sometime later in the week if not that same day. If my ex wife came over to claim bedroom privileges everyone would ask about it. So it probably was not a bad idea for them to park in front of my truck. I am here to tell you that there is etiquette for threesomes in the bedroom. You do not want to play it by ear. So for future reference, Rule Number 1 is do not focus on one of your partners more than the other. Spread the attention, than even means undressing. In the event, they were novices like me, so were not terribly proactive. I had to undress them, a bit here from one, a bit there from the other. Rule Number 2, undress yourself. This really speeds things up. You don't know how delicate it can be when you have to undress two women and not play favorites no matter how much you might like one over the other. Rule Number 3 participation by all is mandatory. Think about it. If the women don't take the initiative while the guy and other gal are busy things fall apart. Three people, everyone has to be involved or someone gets left out, and that can be a very very uncomfortable feeling. So as you can imagine this kind of thing is not for the shy or faint of heart. We all have hands and mouths so use them. The man in the mix can only do so much at one time. LOL. Diana was much more into it than Deborah. So once things got started, I guess she felt left out and not being proactive, felt completely left out when Diana and I started getting into it. I can leave it up to your imagination to figure out what I am talking about. Well Deb wasn't the imaginative type, so after the preliminary book end oral sex, she felt left out and went in the living room. Diana and I finished but I couldn't coax Deb back in. So after about 2 hours the fun was over and they left. All was not over though. Find the conclusion under the Chapter: Diana.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Chapter 14 Sick Puppies

In the Couples and Couplings chapter I started to reveal a little of the social workings of our greater circle of friends. We had the Neo-colonials from Kenya, Randy the food manager and his interior designer wife, then the MBA student and his Danish wife. There were also the Child Psychiatrist and his hippy wife Suzie and the jeweler Judy and her husband. All of the relationships were in some degree of terminal illness. All save Randy and his wife, who last I heard were living happily in Florida the beneficiaries of an insurance windfall due to the untimely death of his parents in some sort of accident. Let's take a look at the most interesting case. The hippy wife Suzie was an attractive auburn haired waif. She was right out of the Sixties. Long unfettered wavy hair and long flowing gauzy dresses. She dabbled in a number of enterprises, a knick knack shop on a side street off of Cherokee, then moved up to a coffee shop off of Cherokee between Adams and 6th. It was a nice place and just a stones throw from the house her and her husband lived in off of Cherokee at Adams. I think their house was next to the one that looked like a haunted mansion with the ivy growing on it and the tall oaks surrounding it just north of the elementary school. Looking at Google map satellite imagery, I see that that whole block of houses is no more. Pity, they were as old as the Frank Phillips mansion and were quite nice. If only the owners had taken care of them. Well, Hippy Suzie was not the problem so much as her husband, unless you consider infidelity a problem. She had a taste for dark meat, taking to her bed for a time, a young American of African decent from Oklahoma City who is now considered a notable son of Bartlesville by the Bartian Chronicles. This was before shedding his wife and kids in OKC for two resident pieces of trim in Bartlesville. Suzie was the first I was aware of his current wife being the second. But I am getting ahead of myself. Suzie's child psychiatrist husband had a habit of making obscene phone calls to his wife's friends. The Danish Pastry was a good friend of Suzie's. She was quite a free spirit herself and would soon replace Suzie in her lover's bed resulting in the demise of their friendship. The Pastry had been getting calls from Suzie's husband (not to be confused with her/their Poet/welfare dad boyfriend) for some time and had deduced who it was. After a few parties at which most of the couples attended, some of the other wives started getting calls too. The Danish Pastry reported to me that he had gotten a little forward with her in a hallway and he had gotten a bit too touchy feely. She kneed him in the groin. As far as I know, my Future Ex at the time never got a call from the guy. Maybe he thought better of it since I was a bit more "engaged" and he might have felt I would have taken exception. Well, fast forward about 3 or 4 years. I was living in Tulsa as a bachelor in 1987 or 1988. I had met a group of single school teachers by way of giving science talks at Jr. High Schools. We were at a club on Peoria and I was talking to this one female teacher and told her I had lived in Bartlesville. She confided in me that her roommate used to data a guy from Bartlesville and he was a child psychiatrist. What are the chances right? I asked his name. Today I can't remember his name, something Italian I think ending with an "ioli" or something. Anyway, it was the same guy. I looked at her with a straight face and asked, "He started making obscene phone calls to you?" I wish you could have seen the look on her face. It was priceless. She gasped and said, " My god, how did you know?!" I told her the whole story laughing the whole way through. She couldn't stop shaking her head. There was a party circuit in B'ville at the time. Well probably two, or more. One was the PPCo singles. We partied, camped, canoed, and played sports together. Then there was the party circuit made up of locals. It was informal but if you knew enough people you got invited to parties in Dewey, Copan, B'ville, or anywhere one was planned or sprang up. This led to an almost incestuous bit of bed hopping. I mean you would get the opportunity to do sisters, moms and daughters, hell probably grand mothers and grand daughters. It just depends on where you drew the line. Me? Well I've not done sisters though I would have liked to. I almost had the chance to do a mom and daughter. That would have been fun, but I was waiting on Diane, she was working the bar at the King's Club or whatever the beer joint was on Bartle's Road between B'ville and Dewey. Her mom worked the bar. No it wasn't her and her mom. It was another gal and her mother. I might have taken them up on it, but, I recognized the gal as an LPN that worked for my Ex # 1 at Jane Phillips. Now that would have been a disaster. I would not have under cut my Ex #1 that way. She was too good a woman for me to mess with her in the work place. You know how women talk. I am sure it would have gotten back to her. To this day I don't know if the daughter recognized me or not. I wondered if there wasn't a bit of deliberate intention in the come on. I have to admit it was enticing. Oh, yeah. After Suzie and the Poet split, and the Pastry and the Pastry had replaced Suzie as the Poets new play...thing. An odd thing occurred. The Poet's wife in OKC found out that he was serious about this one. I don't know if he told her he wanted a divorce or what but she beat feet up to B'ville to settle accounts. In best ghetto tradition the jilted welfare mom stormed into the Pastry's salon and dragged her out of the place in front of customers and proceeded to put a Harlem sized ass whipping on her. I guess the specter of loosing governmental support was too much and pushed her to violence, where the simple philandering of her absentee husband would not. The story does have a happy ending. The Pastry and the Poet wed and had three or four kids and are now icons of the Bartlesville community.

Friday, March 9, 2007

Chapter 13 A Geologist and a Gentleman

Right after I arrived in Bartlesville, I realized there were a lot of people trying to leave. Women mostly. By that I mean I got the impression there were a lot of women that wanted to be taken away from Oklahoma, much as the young women wanted to leave the Navy town in An Officer and A Gentleman, by marrying a professional that worked for Phillips. I got some sage advice from someone who had lived in Bartlesville. "Don't get involved." "Have fun, but don't get involved with the local girls." Well, I managed to follow that advice until in the late 80's but that story comes later. There were a lot of women who were looking for someone to take care of them. The first I met was a gal named Vickie. A pretty waitress at the DI, and she was going to school working on a degree. She wore these great halter tops and seemed like a magnet for guys. We got intimately friendly, but never had sex. She was pretty well known at the DI. Ultimately she got a degree, went to work for Phillips in their computing mapping group in the same building I had been in, but only after I had left the company. She had a knack of getting involved with insanely jealous men. I remember one day seeing her by the Adams building and her asking me not to walk her out of the building because her boyfriend was waiting to pick her up and she didn't want trouble. I hope she finally found the right guy. Another was a local gal who was Filipino but pure Okie. Her name was Debbie. I knew her from the DI where she was a regular. I had made a play for her once and she along with a bunch of other people had ended up at my house. I remember her walking in and taking a look around. She was incredulous that a bachelor had a well decorated home. She said, "I can't believe this is your place. Any woman would love to have all this." Now I don't know if she meant it to sound the way it did, but alarm bells went off and I never pursued anything else with her. She dated an engineer friend of mine for a while but he just could not stand her personality. She would hold court in the Ladies' room like something out of a teen movie. Eventually I introduced her to another co-worker, well actually two of them. They were both interested so we went on a triple date. Debbie and a friend of hers, the two guys and me and my Future Ex #2. The geologist of the two got Debbie. They hit it off despite my warnings. Moved in together, he was putting her through community college, and got word of a transfer to Calgary. Well, as you can expect, he really didn't want to take any baggage along. Before he could give her the bad news, she pre-empted him and announced she was pregnant. So being a good guy (he was, a top notch geologist, and a dependable dive buddy) he did the right thing, even if he was crazy to do it. They ran out and got married, and whoops! she lost the baby. Not that there ever was one mind you. Anyway the hook had been set and eventually they did have two kids. The last time I heard they were in Cairo, Egypt and he was working for one of the majors there. So she got her wish and got to travel the world. I only hope she learned to like fish. I don't think any of her friends were as successful. They were attractive, but by any measure were as dumb as the proverbial bucket of rocks. Too bad, what a waste, all that beauty and no brains. I tended to play this angle for all it was worth. I never made any promises; I just let them fool themselves. I remember meeting a gal at the DI just before my transfer to Houston. We had a tremendous one night stand; this gal was on the cusp of BBWdom but was still young and had a rack like two big pillows. Wonderful. She liked to talk dirty too. Well I didn't see her again until I was dating Future Ex #2 and we were at the Red Apple. She came up to me and good naturedly kidded me about how I had disappeared off the face of the earth. I told her I had been transferred, and she nodded. Then it dawned on her that I had to have known but didn't say anything. Okay I was guilty of omission, but not commission. There were a few others but I hesitate to say that they were really looking for a way out of B'ville as much as they just didn't know what they wanted and were looking for a good time.

Monday, March 5, 2007

Chapter 12 Carolyn Cont'd

Back to Carolyn. We set out for Montana, me driving a 24 foot truck and Carolyn driving a 3/4 ton 4X4 pickup. We stopped in Kansas, the first night. We went out that night to a night club in Hays, Kansas. I got a glimpse of what Carolyn felt she needed. Carolyn was a very, very attractive woman. She needed attention and wanted to be desired, but does not want to be approached. Basically she wants thing on her terms with her in control. I was her escort of sorts. She didn't mind if guys oggled her, but she made it clear she was with someone, me. Nothing happened that first night in Kansas, or the second in Wyoming. We got to Great Falls the day before we were to pick up the remaining crew members. We stopped and Carolyn went to check us in while I secured the truck. She got us two adjoining rooms. There was a knock at the connecting room door and I opened it. She announced she was going to shower, and then we could go to dinner Quicker than I could spring an erection, she undressed and got in the shower. To be honest with all the blood draining from my head, I can't remember if I got in the shower with her or showered in my room. I do remember that she was in the bed and lickity split I joined her. Well, we more than made up for the interruption in Giddings. After the lust faded, and we had a cigarette, she said she needed to make a phone call. Well, not to be deterred, as I wanted round two, I stayed and while she talked to her hubbie Mr. B on the phone, I decided to do a little spelunking, or muff diving to those of you who are marine oriented. I tried my best to rattle her while she talked on the phone. She must have gotten something out of having me munching her muff, while she talked to her husband on the phone, because as soon as she hung up we went into extra innings. The next day we went pick up the rest of our crew at the airport. One the two techs we picked up was a guy named Dan Walker, a 350+ lb biker who knew Carolyn's former boyfriend and knew she was married. He took a brotherly interest in looking after her. The crew didn't get into town until late so we postponed setting out on the last leg of our trip until morning. After picking them up and driving from the air port it was late afternoon. The sexual tension between Carolyn and me was pretty high. We were behaving like two teenagers doing something we didn't want mom and dad to find out about, which made it even nastier. So when we split up to go to our rooms to kill time till dinner. Well, Carolyn and I went to her room to "clean" up and fucked like two animals. I mean we didn't even make it to the bed. I laid her on a divan and went at her like an inmate who just made parole. The blush on my ears hadn't gone away before old Dan was knocking on the door. We had a good laugh later because he had this really strange look on his face, maybe he could still smell the sex in the air. Anyway, I think he caught on to what was going on before the trip was over. We drove on into Jordan the next day. I don't remember clearly but I think Carolyn and I shared the truck front seat and talked. She was a bit too conservative to do anything else. In fact I don't think she was much into giving head at all come to think of it. We checked into the motel in Jordan. It was situated along the main running through town, with the town's main street running north from it, like an upside down "T". Across the street on the right was our lab housed in a vacant auto parts store, and on the other corner was the largest bar in town. In setting up the survey and making lodging arrangements I had gotten to know the daughter of the owners of both the motel and the bar. We checked in and I met her. We flirted a bit then headed over to the bar for a beer before dinner. Carolyn and the other tech tagged along. I vaguely remember the other tech who was female, Donna Wilman I believe. Donna knew Carolyn; they had been rivals at one time or other. I had a drink or two and a nice chat with the young woman who worked both the motel and bar. I then headed back to the lab to do some paperwork. Later I got back to the bar on my own and it was like stepping into a deep freeze. So much so I asked point blank what had changed since the last time I had come into the place. The young woman told me that Carolyn had in no uncertain terms told her that I was hers and that the others had better stay clear. I told them that she was my tech and that that was all. I would make a liar out of myself in short order. Due to the inclement weather in the area, the motel was built with a hallway behind the rooms for the maids to use with their carts. So each room had a front door to the street and another door opening to the service hallway. This was October and the weather was already cold and wet. All of us went to the bar that night, well I think we made the rounds of all three bars on the street, saloons really and hit the sack around 10 or 10:30. That night Carolyn came down the hallway and knocked at my door. We screwed to the wee hours. If I recall she scratched and clawed me like a cat that night and I had the stripes to show for it for a week. She got up in the early AM and was preparing to beat feet back to her room before the others woke up. I turned on the light to a scene out of the Godfather where the guy finds the horse's head in bed with him. Only there wasn't a horse's head and it wasn't horse's blood. Apparently she had started her period during our pipe laying and neither of us had noticed, or at least I hadn't. I probably chalked up the excess lube to her excitement. I looked like someone had cut my pecker off, my pubes were matted with blood and we were both smeared from shoulders to knees with the stuff. My bed was a fucking mess, thats' it and all about it. Then it flashed in my brain. The gal at the bar was the one who made up the rooms and she was going to find a scene that looked like I had just butchered some one or some thing in my bed. Else I had screwed a very shrewd woman who knew she was flowing and had indelibly marked her turf. It wasn't the last time Carolyn out smarted me. I got cleaned up and we left that morning for the field. I don't think I said another word to the motel gal the remaining 3 weeks of my stay. She just stayed clear of me. Touché Carolyn. We continued to do the sneaking around for the next few weeks until another crew came up to replace us. We flew out and the replacement crew drove the vehicles back. The next trip with Carolyn was to Rockglen, Saskatchewan. I drove up, again picking up the crew along the way, started the survey, setting up a lab in a vacant auto garage. We were going to do field work on both sides of the US-Canadian border. I left for a while to handle my then Ex # 1's filing for divorce, then flew back. Carolyn was at the airport to pick me up. Carolyn had come up while I was gone and she had talked the rest of the crew into letting her stay at the hotel to do laundry while they were out collecting samples. I checked in to my room then checked into Carolyn. We whammed and bammed until the late afternoon when the rest of the crew was due back. At this point, it was an all girl crew. Terry Nichols, Carolyn, and another whose name escapes me at the moment. We hired the proprietor of the motel to help us in the field both as a tech and as a guide. He had time on his hands and his wife could handle the motel in his absence. His name was Monty. Things were a bit hard at the time and I checked the web and the motel was up for sale so I guess he and his family had moved on. He was highly amused by my all female field crew. They were like cats in a bag. They were always back biting each other as soon as one person left the lab, me included. Since there were no men with us except me and Monty, they could not play the feminine card to get out of work. Carolyn did this a lot, but couldn't this time around. We continued to see each other on the sly. I think Monty like being the stick that kept the mix stirred up. I left the lab one evening while we were still working to get caught up on paperwork. I went to the local bar/restaurant to eat and work. They sent him to see what I was up to, and reported back that I was making time with the local town floosie. Something I was not doing. That got Carolyn and the rest riled a bit. They sent another of their number down the street to check on me and by that time I was talking to someone, so it appeared that Monty had told the truth. I came back to a deep freeze. He pulled me aside and told me what had happened and we got a good laugh. Then I confronted my crew. They were sheepish about it. Then came the truck wrecks. Long story short, the weather deteriorated. We had rented a Ford Bronco to fill out our compliment of trucks for our field surveys. That along with the old Ford 3/4 ton 4X4 was our field transport. Well, I was riding with Carolyn, doing the map reading when she missed a curve and ran off the road in a straight slide cut through a barbed wire fence and hitting a cane break that stopped up just short of an 8 foot drop into a coulee (a dry creek bed). We scratched up the paint on the truck but nothing else. At almost the same instant miles away, Monty and the other gal hit a patch of black ice going over a bridge. She must have accelerated to cause the resulting broad slide, started to go off the road to the right, over corrected and shot to the left completely over the road and off to the left side. She then cranked the wheel to avoid going through a barbed wire fence and into an open field that would have at most caused minor paint damage. Instead she rolled the truck over and it skidded about 40 feet on the roof. Luckily the one piece fiberglass bed cap supported the weight, else the cab would have been crushed level with the top of the doors. As it was the truck was totaled. Just the day before I had them clean out the trucks, including removing all the "neat" rocks the seemed to collect as a matter of course that littered the floor boards. This included a few cantaloupe sized brutes that had they been loose in the cab when they flipped probably would have killed someone or at least seriously injured them. Needless to say it caused quite a stir back in Bartlesville when I called in the first accident. The company was on a safety kick at the time, and there was no such thing as an unavoidable accident. Even though the Canadian Mounted Police had deemed it unavoidable due to the black ice, the company safety wags were on a rampage. When I called in the told me they already knew about it. The were referring of course to the other accident which I did not know about at the time. I cleared that up and informed them that this was indeed a second accident, the second in about 20 minutes. The thought that the most serious accident might cost her, her job reduced the one gal to tears. The net affect was we had to take a truck driving course in Kellyville on our return. I was told that the incident went all the way to the executive committee and so many high up muckity mucks were scrambling to cover their asses that it was promptly swept under the rug. In contrast, on another occasion poor Terry Swift was lambasted and got a reprimand for simply skidding off an ice slick road into a snow bank and causing minor damage to a truck fender. Our incident was promptly ignored and forgotten. So my friends, if you are going to screw up, make it such a major screw up that it endangers a lot of powerful people and they will protect themselves and in so doing protect you. We celebrated the end of the survey by taking Monty and his wife out to a distanct dinner club for drinks and dinner. We got really hammered. I guess we never fooled anyone with our sneaking around. I have pictures of me standing at the table while Carolyn lovingly cups my crotch, an another of her taking a nose dive into my lap. So much for our being discrete. It was all in good fun. We were well into our cups by the end of the evening, but I do remember riding home, letting Carolyn drive while I had my head in her lap face under her blouse, suckling on her nice full breasts as they hung in my face. I can still remember their warmth, and the strains of Billy Ocean singing Caribbean Queen. Life was good. When we got back to the office in Bartlesville, I got the call to see the branch manager I had dreaded. I walked into his office and all he said was, " Well? Did you fuck her?. I told him I was a gentleman and gentlemen did not talk about ladies. Shortly after that, Carolyn set her cap for one a pretty boy PhD on the Geology staff. His wife was pregnant, and according to Donna, who knew the inside skinny on things of this nature, Carolyn was at his house cleaning his pipes while his wife was in the hospital bringing his child into the world. Apparently that lasted a until his wife cam home, or until he got the boot back to academia. The powers that be figured he was too interested in igneous petrology, volcanoes to most folks, and unfortunately, volcanoes don't produce much oil. So he was sent packing back to the university world to pursue his research passion. Donna also said Carolyn critiqued his wife's wardrobe. Cold. But, hey, infidelity is a different sort of drug. When someone betrays all the promises they made to be with YOU, it is a great ego boost. I am not condoning it, I just understand it. I have been on both sides of it, having had a fling with a Navy Seal's wife while in college. I wasn't the only one she was doing at the time, but I did monopolize her attention for a month or so and we may have made a son together. I am in touch with her to this day, but she has never said yea or nay on the matter. It was a rush at the time, years later when I came to realized the extent of the Navy Seal fraternity in Norfolk, Va, it really sobered me up. I mean if our indiscretion had come to his attention, I could easily have become fish bait and no one would ever have known. But this gal was willing to run the risk and potentially and eventually throw away her marriage to be with me. I saw her a few times during her pregnancy, and got the skinny on her divorce. Seems he didn't want kids and with her pregnant...go figure. All I can say is I was plowing the field a lot more than he was, him being on deployment and all. And the timing was right. She even made a point to bring the kid by to show him to me. So, who knows? I never went in the field with Carolyn after than and was transferred to Houston in 1986, then reassigned to International back in B'ville, but decided to live in Tulsa and commute. One fine day, I got a visit from someone on the 15th (Executive) floor of the Plaza Office Building. It seems Carolyn had used me as a reference when bidding on a new position. I knew the guy and was very candid about Carolyn's abilities and her penchant to manipulate men. I used her own words, "I'll tickle the crotch worm if it will help me get what I want." She still got the job. I have often wondered how many of the crotch worms on the 15th floor she might have tickled while working up there. She came by for a pool party one weekend and I have a picture of her and my Future Ex #2 poolside in their bikinis. In with the old out with the new. As it was we saw each other once or twice after that, she would come into Tulsa to "shop" with a girlfriend, and meet me at my apartment. One evening we were going to go out for dinner and instead we ate in on the living room floor. Then we caled out for dinner, had it delivered and ate it lounging on the floor in the living room while watching a movie on the TV. We have spoken since by phone and she seems to be happy. She finally got that corvette that she always seemed to think was the Mt. Everest of status symbols. Carolyn was like the cobra, all your life you've been told that something like that is evil, and you know it is definitely lethal, but it is so seductively beautiful, and hypnotic that you just can't stay away. She was every bit that, and I was lucky that the cobra never bit me. Well, she did scratch a bit. But it was worth every second.