The Girl from the Ouachita Ch. 05

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The Girl from the Ouachita, Ch. 5

Disclaimer: no sex involving persons under the age of 18 is found in this series. Please read Chapters 1-4 first or this won’t make much sense.

From Chapter 4: “How many times you gonna save me, Sir Galahad?” she said into his chest.

“As many times as it takes, Lady Jo. As many times at it takes.”


After a roller coaster night that featured slow, sensuous love making interspersed with crying jags by the self-proclaimed “daughter of a monster” and intermittent sleep, they arose and prepared to meet with their lawyers.

Chris called work to let them know, but they already knew. Bob put the phone on speaker, and Trey led with, “Is Jo okay?”

Chris put his phone on speaker, and said, “Jo, someone wants to know if you’re okay; you want to tell him?”

“Is it Mr. Beck?” she asked.

“No, Honey, it’s Trey, and we’re worried about you! Sandra was up pacing half the night, praying and hoping you and Chris are all right. Are you?”

“I’ve been better, but I thank God I have Chris. He saved me from my momma and the other monsters, and then consoled me all night. He seems to be doing okay this morning, but that was a traumatic event for both of us!

“Thank you and Sandy for caring.”

“Honey, we haven’t spent much time with you, but I think we know you pretty well, and we care about you. As to Chris, I’d expect nothing less; your guy is about as kind and caring as it gets — unless you’re a monster who is trying to harm someone he cares about, in which case he’s necessarily a badass.

“Anyway, take as much time as the two of you need, Chris. We have your plans, and Bob is going to the site with Jimbo to keep things going. Don’t worry about work — take care of that girl!”

“Hey, Jo and Chris, this is Bob. When I hang up I’m supposed to call my wife and give her an update; we’re concerned about you too. In fact, everyone is, so take good care of each other.

“Let me know when you’re ready to return, Chris, and don’t worry — we’ve got this.”

People caring made Jo cry again, and ask why everyone is so nice to her except her momma!

After introductions, the chief defense attorney, Darren Howard, informed them that they had read Mark’s notes from their interview the previous night, and listened to his tapes. “There are a few things we need to clarify, if you feel up to it.”

Both said they were, so Mr. Howard asked about the circumstances that led to them living together, with Jo separated from her mother. He was looking at Jo, so she started by talking about her childhood, her mother’s addictions and immorality, and moving in with Elwood and his sons when she was fifteen. She emphasized that she did most of the housework, and the cooking when she was at home, but tried to stay at school as much as possible due to the sexual harassment at home.

She told them about the deputy sheriff and social worker keeping her safe until she aged out of the system, about hearing Elwood and his sons’ plans for her eighteenth birthday, accelerating her graduation, and getting scholarships to TCU.

Chris watched her, and watched the responses of the attorneys. They were businesslike, if seemingly concerned when she began, but frowns creased their faces by the time she got to the ongoing sexual harassment, and only deepened thereafter.

Things lightened up when she waxed nostalgic about meeting Chris, getting a ride, about becoming friends and then lovers, and the other happy times. When she returned to the previous night, they encouraged her to open her heart and tell not only the story, but also how she felt.

The video tape captured her emotions as well as her words, and for the first time, she admitted to the sense of helplessness she felt being tied up, and the terror at being threatened by ‘the monsters’ she had to live with before. She was angriest at her mother, but also heartbroken by her cruelty. She said she knew all along that Elwood and his sons were monsters, but now she knew her mother was too.

She sobbed from time to time, wondered aloud if, given their shared genes, she would turn into a monster like her mother someday, and then proclaimed she would have died if her mother or the others had hurt Chris!

When she finished, both attorneys were moved to the point of tears, and to righteous indignation.

“Chris, we need to go over your story again, but first – Jo, would you mind if I shared this video with the District Attorney? I don’t want some ADA to offer a deal that lets these monsters get off with light sentences. The DA just happens to have a lovely blonde daughter who recently celebrated her fifteenth birthday, and I suspect seeing you tell your story will ensure they do hard time. I know that includes your mother, but she seems as dangerous as the men.”

Jo looked at Chris, who whispered in her ear. “Maybe they will get her in a treatment program for her addictions, and offer her an opportunity to learn a trade, Keçiören Escort or get a better education. She has to be smart to have had you, but she’s messed her life up so badly…”

Jo turned back to the attorneys and told them she gave them her permission. Howard called in an assistant, and told her to prepare a limited release for Jo’s signature.

“Now, Chris, what we need from you is more detail about how you managed to handle four men and a woman with a knife without even skinning a knuckle.”

Chris held up his hands and showed them that he did have skinned and swollen knuckles, then laughed. They laughed with him and speculated that wasn’t bad for handling five bad people, two of whom had knives.

They pressed Chris on how he was feeling during the battle, whether he used excessive force or only sufficient force to disable the attackers, and other details they felt the perpetrators were likely to use in their defense. Since they had no real defense, they felt they would try to blame the victims.

Satisfied that his story would hold up in interrogation as well as in court, if it came to that, they had Jo sign the release and assured them they would be kept updated.

It was after 11, so they decided to eat an early lunch. That gave Jo a chance to muse about her mother’s foibles. Chris listened, and then asked about her grandparents. She had never known them, but her mother said they were religious nuts and the worst parents ever; she then mused about whether her mother had unseated them for that title.

Chris asked if she knew anything about the man her mother said was her biological father. Jo told him the story her mother told her. She met the man she called Kennedy in a bar in Eureka Springs, Arkansas where she was waitress. He picked her up with an offer of booze, grass, and coke. She spent the night in his room doing drugs and having sex, and the next day he left. She didn’t remember his name or much about how he looked, but he told her that he was the black sheep of the Kennedy Clan.

Chris filed all that away, with the intention of following up later.

After lunch, Chris suggested they run by his worksite so he could check on progress, and see if they needed anything. Jo said her dorm room had been assigned, and she would like to go see it with him.

He hid his anxiety about her moving, but agreed; if she would go to the stadium with him first. She agreed to do that, if he didn’t think they were both overdressed. He laughed. “The guys can use a treat about now, and you will certainly provide that!”

On the way over, he teasingly encouraged her to present the strong, confident, and gorgeous woman they both know she is. She laughed in return, and asked him how far she should go. He chuckled and told her to just do her thing.

She did.

The dress she had worn was almost knee length, had a high neckline, and long sleeves, but the skirt flared out and swished from side to side as she walked in the 3-inch heels. That presented more of her lovely legs than when she sat demurely, and since they would be on a walkway above and to the side of the construction crews, they saw even more.

Reminiscent of the crowd going silent when they arrived at the mixer and the NYE ball, work ground to a halt when their new boss walked in with this stunning young woman by his side.

Bob grinned; Jimbo, who hadn’t met her, stared. “Is that her? Jeez! No wonder Trey said what he did!”

“So, how did your meeting go?” Bob asked loudly as they approached.

Jo gave him a dazzling smile, and Chris answered that things went so well he hoped to be back tomorrow. With Jo standing beside him, looking around at the work and the staring workers, Chris asked if they needed anything from him. They said no, and Chris turned to Jimbo. “You haven’t met Jo yet, have you? Jo, this is Jim Bob Fisher; Jimbo, this is Amy Jo Kennedy.”

Jo looked surprised — how in the world did he know her full name? Gracious as always, however, she greeted Jimbo, said hello to Bob and waved at the workers. Chris smiled and yelled, “Hey, Guys, this is my girlfriend, Jo Kennedy; Jo, these are the guys I work with.”

Jo waved again, and yelled, “It’s nice to meet you!” They clapped, cheered, and whistled their approval.

“You need to get her out of here or we aren’t going to get any work done today,” Bob teased. They left, but no work got done until Jo was out of sight. “How did I do?” she asked coquettishly.

He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her passionately, and then told her, “You did more for my reputation in ten minutes than I could do in a month! In their eyes, anyone with a girlfriend like you must be an impressive guy!”


They drove around to the dorm, parked, and watched students and their parents moving stuff in. Jo led him by the hand this time, marking her territory against the pretty girls who were eyeing him. He noticed, and said, Etimesgut Escort “Wow! You won’t be the only pretty girl in this dorm! Some of these are pretty hot!”

She knew he was teasing, so she replied, “Hah! Look at all the HOT boys moving in! I may enjoy this more than I thought if my boyfriend doesn’t treat me right!” They grinned at each other.

Her room was nice, and they met her roommate and suite mates, all of whom were pleasant, pretty, and obviously rich. Jo did well in conversation with them, in spite of the differences in backgrounds. They were in awe of her accomplished boyfriend who was building the new stadium, and she gained instant credibility for him being there. They all took pictures of Jo and Chris, then each with Jo and Chris, and then he took pictures of the four suitemates in various poses, some of which were pushing R rated.

Jo chattered all the way back to the apartment about her first impressions of her suitemates. They boxed up or hung her comparatively paltry belongings and took them back in the Jeep, as they had promised Kate, Elle, and Grace they would do. Strangely, their arrival brought another dozen girls to the room to be introduced and with whom to take pictures: the word had spread.

As they were driving away Chris complained, “Honey, I’m afraid those girls are kind of wild. They were squeezing me and pressing their boobs and pussies against me while we were taking pictures!”

Jo made sure their last night as roommates was memorable, and that he would have nothing left to give the ho’s in her dorm if they somehow tracked him down.


She tried to argue against it, but Chris insisted she take the Jeep and get a parking sticker for it. “Jo, I have two vehicles of my own, and the work truck. Why should I have three vehicles taking up parking places at the apartment? Besides, if you really do intend to come see me from time to time, you’ll need transportation. Unless you want me to come into the dorm to pick you up.”

She knew he was teasing her, but she couldn’t control the jealousy. “When you put it that way, maybe I should! I promise I won’t drive it around unnecessarily, or have a bunch of kids in it, or…”

“Jo, it’s just a vehicle. I already added your name to the insurance, so use it anytime you need or want to. I trust you to use common sense. Obviously, I don’t want you driving after you’ve been drinking, or making stains on the back seats with anyone but me, but otherwise use it as you like.”

She looked horrified. “Chris, I would NEVER do something like that! I’m only eighteen — I can’t even drink legally, and I’m dang sure not going to… Oh, you’re teasing me again… I see that grin you’re hiding!”

She cuffed him on the shoulder, but grinned when she did it. “I’ll promise not to make stains on the backseat of the Jeep, if you’ll promise not to make any on the back seat of the Ram or on any of the sheets in the apartment.”

“So the couch, tables, and chairs are okay?” he asked innocently, and got cuffed again, harder this time.

“Only if you want me to make stains on the furniture in the dorm,” she replied with a smirk.

“So, are you saying we’re exclusive now? Like going steady or something?” Chris replied, taking her hands in his. “That might make the fraternity parties less fun, you know.”

Instead of continuing the banter, she grew serious, laid her head on his chest, and said, “I’m exclusively yours. You have to decide whether you are exclusively mine.”

“I’m yours,” he replied solemnly. She reached behind his neck, pulled his face down, and gave him a scorching kiss that rocked him to his work boots.

“And I’m yours!”

At the time, Jo had no idea how that promise would be tested.


She attacked college just as she had attacked every other challenge in her life, and for the next three weeks she was in class, studying, doing projects, or with Chris, and a lot of her studying and project work was done in his apartment. It was quieter there, and he was a great resource when she needed one.

Like almost all freshman, she had to learn to listen, take notes, and study differently. Many college Profs preferred research and writing to teaching, so their Graduate Assistant (GA) was the one you went to for assistance, or you hired a tutor. She tried the GA for one particularly difficult course, but he seemed more concerned with seducing her than helping her learn, so she turned to Chris.

He was a patient tutor who helped her learn what she needed to know in order to complete the work or project and prepare for future work or projects, as opposed to only helping her get the work or project completed.

He taught her that remembering and understanding are only the bases of the learning pyramid: to excel you have to be able to apply, analyze, evaluate, and create with what you learn.

Unfortunately, like schools everywhere since the advent Demetevler Escort of “accountability testing”, the Arkansas schools she had attended focused on learning what would be tested rather than acquiring the knowledge and skills, and developing the abilities that students would need in the larger universe in which they would have to function after their formal schooling ended.

That wasn’t a failing of the teachers or administrators: if students didn’t pass the state tests, the students faced consequences; if sufficient students didn’t pass the state tests, the teachers and schools faced consequences. Therefore, schools were compelled to make sure every kid passed, often at the cost of missing opportunities to extend the learning to make it useful in real-life situations.

Because the tests were focused on basic grade-level/course skills, things memorized, and selecting among A-B-C-D choices, more time was spent on preparing for the tests than extending learning up the pyramid. In fact, once Chris talked to her about it, she remembered how much more high quality, creative teaching and learning took place after the tests were administered, as compared to the prior six-seven months.

In any case, with his guidance, Jo learned to learn, how to use what she learned, and how to analyze and evaluate what she created, whether it be a paper or a project. She had no desire to be an engineer like Chris, but she came to appreciate the processes engineers use in creating large buildings, in solving environmental problems, or in overcoming obstacles, whether man-made or natural.

It was a struggle at first, but she was intelligent, enthusiastic, and persistent, so it gained traction and momentum, and soon she was exceling.

But college wasn’t all work; she loved learning, being exposed to new ideas and new people. Some complained about the required Philosophy and Psychology courses they had to take: she found them fascinating! The Biology 202 course (she had placed out of the 100 level intro course) was difficult, and the lab was terrifying at first, but she gobbled up what they taught and felt more enlightened every day.

And there were the parties. She went to a few on campus, but with Kate, Lynn, and Mary, she organized the best one: a Super Bowl party the first Sunday in February, at Chris’ apartment. The numbers were limited to those she invited and their guests, but word got around and she ended up inviting far more than she intended, as did Mary and Lynn.

By Super Bowl Sunday, they had used email and social mediums to inform everyone invited that the party had been moved to the community center at the apartment complex, and what they had to bring. There were too many people for an apartment, and too many for them to prepare and provide the snacks and beverages.

The Super Bowl itself, with the final score of Patriots 13, Rams 3, was not for those who love offense, and bored the hell out of most casual observers. The halftime featuring Maroon 5 and a couple of rappers was fun for some – not including Chris – and by early in the third quarter, someone suggested playing music and dancing in the open area of the center, away from the TVs.

Jo was a leading proponent, so the man who had procured rights to the building for the night in order to watch the game, spent much of the second half dancing with his Tom Brady

2 Patriots jersey attired girlfriend. She was wearing super-short shorts under the jersey, but all you saw was white knee-high socks in red canvas shoes, a bunch of shapely leg, and a red jersey with white numerals and blue trim.

Jo controlled the music, so it was a nice mix that included country, ballroom, rock, and hip-hop, played in a rotation of about five songs from each genre. For once, Chris didn’t mind the hip-hop; it gave him a chance to get a beer, catch up on the game, and watch his girlfriend’s breathtaking gyrations… assuming the crowd she drew wasn’t too densely packed to see her.

When the game ended, the dancefloor got crowded when the country, rock, or hip-hop was playing, but Jo and Chris pretty much had it to themselves during the ballroom music. A few waltzed, two-stepped, or jitterbugged, but for the Cha-Cha and Tango they were the featured – actually only – dancers.

It’s likely no young man left there not in lust with Jo, who shown like a star whatever the dance. The Tango they did… very few young women left there not in lust with Chris… and maybe Jo too.

Lynn, Mary, and Jo stood at the door saying goodbye and receiving complements from those leaving at one am, while Chris, Don, John, and a few of their friends cleaned and straightened up. When asked if she needed a ride or anything, mainly by hopeful boys, Jo explained that she had to stay and help clean up, and she had a ride set up after that was done.

It wasn’t really a lie: she did help clean up a few things, while chattering with the other women, and she certainly got a ride after that.

She wanted to bathe to get the sheen of sweat off, but Chris made her do a strip tease and then licked most of the salty sweat traces off her face, boobs, legs, and behind, before trying to tongue-clean her little pussy from lips to womb. She lost count of the times she came on his tongue and/or fingers before he finally relented and unleashed The Brute.

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