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Babes

This is the third feature in a short series of true stories. My biggest critics so far, have called attention to the fact that I spend a great deal of time telling about the peripheral items, conditions and circumstance. This one is no different.

To me it is extremely important to build a case for why the main characters were at that particular place, in that state of mind at that precise time. The geographic region, the climate, the demographics and the economy were all huge contributing factors in this story. However, for the impatient reader, who only wants to get to the sexual acts, this introduction in boring and unnecessary.

For that reason and for those readers, I have broken the story into four segments; sub-titled (1) The Introduction (2) The Get Acquainted the “introduction” contains no sex at all, the “get acquainted” has very little sexual dialog and no action, the “main event” contains all the action and the “conclusion” has sexual dialog only.

As a “Literotica” member and author/writer, I can monitor how many times a story has been opened, but I cannot tell how long you kept it open and how many pages you read. Therefore I cannot be offended by you skipping certain portions.

As always, your comments and feedback are most welcome.

The Introduction:

This is a true story that happened just a few years ago in McAllen, Texas. As you will learn by reading any of my other stories, I am in the commercial construction management business. In the last 25 years, that business has taken me literally from coast to coast and border to border. This was one of several trips to the southern border, as McAllen is less than 10 miles from the Rio Grande River and the border of Mexico.

This was actually my second trip to McAllen, as I had completed a job there approximately 10 years earlier. The first project lasted several weeks, where I did not travel home on weekends because of the distance and cost. Being there for that long, including Memorial Day Weekend, I explored the surrounding areas and thought I would be well prepared for my second visit, even if it was a decade later. I was wrong! Oh, there was some familiarity alright, but where orange groves were located 10 years before; there were now 6 lane streets, shopping centers, hospitals, restaurants and apartment complexes. (and even a new tittie bar, but that’s another story)

I later learned that McAllen is the fasting growing city in Texas, but that does not tell the entire tale. It is the largest city in Hidalgo County, but the county has numerous other towns and cities, boosting the county’s population to several times the number of people that actually live inside the city limits of McAllen. The 100 mile or so, stretch from Hidalgo County to where the Rio Grande River spills into the Gulf of Mexico, is referred to as the “The Rio Grande Valley” or “The Texas Valley” or if you are already in Texas just “The Valley.” Experts in such things claim it is not even a valley at all; it is actually a delta or a floodplain. (but that’s another story)

My parents, who are now deceased, would take 1 and sometimes 2 week trips to this area several years ago, where they would meet up with my uncle and aunt. My uncle was a retired wheat farmer and he and my aunt would escape the cold winter weather on the plains of the mid-west to fish, relax and bargain hunt in this warmer climate. Upon returning from these trips, my mom and dad would be full of stories and have plenty of pictures of the many vegetable farms, citrus groves and sometimes the fish they caught.

They would also tell about the many people they had met during their vacation, who were “wintering” in “The Texas Valley.” Most of them were from a much colder climate like Minnesota, Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, Michigan, etc. During the mid to late 70’s, my parents used the term “snow birds” to describe these winter vacationers. However, upon my very first drive into McAllen on US Highway 281, I noticed a billboard sign saying, “WELCOME WINTER TEXANS.” It seems that, at some point in time, the local business community recognized, these people were pumping millions of dollars annually into the local economy and subsequently started welcoming them with open arms. Many businesses, and not just RV Parks, were dependent upon these winter Texans to survive.

Most of the northerners who had both the time and resources to winter in the Texas Valley were retired. Because of their age, they had more medical needs than the average younger, local, full time resident. Like with my relatives, bargain hunting was also a popular pastime. Maybe the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) influenced the “across the border” shopping opportunity, but I am not sure.

Regardless, the Mexican town of Nuevo Progreso became a popular destination because of its easy entry point and central location. It is located just south of the small Texas town of Progreso and the larger town of Mercedes. canlı bahis şirketleri The business district of the town was bunched up within a few blocks of the River/Check Point/Bridge, so it was easy to park in Texas and walk into Mexico to shop. Compared to some other border towns, it was also very safe and “gringo friendly.” The main street was lined with markets, souvenir and curio shops, liquor stores, and at least one very nice restaurant. You could buy almost any item imaginable, made from every conceivable textile, mineral, wood or animal skin. Everything from clothing, to boots & shoes to furniture to trinkets, could be found in some of these shops. However, one of the most popular attractions was the abundance of dentists, optometrists and pharmacists in Progreso. In Mexico, these products and services could be purchased at a fraction of what the cost would be in the United States.

Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Or in this case, the hospitals or the patients! As word spread and these “retired” winter Texans flooded to the Valley for seasonal retreat and to buy medical supplies and services in Mexico, there became an increasing need for modern hospitals and specialized medical treatment on the Texas side of the border. Before long, the Texas Valley was a hotbed for the most modern and advanced hospitals, treatment clinics, doctors and technicians, all specializing in the latest medical treatments.

Many people, who would have previously gone to Houston for treatment at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center, were now choosing to go to the Texas Valley because of the more favorable climate and the availability of these cost saving pharmaceuticals just across the border. I guess cosmetic surgery is (or was) popular also, because I saw a young lady at a Chinese Buffet one day, wearing a T-shirt with the message, “Get Tight — Feel Right” on the front and the (apparent) explanation, “Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation” on the back. (but that’s probably another story)

Although the opportunity to find “bargains” in Mexico made the area popular, there were also huge amounts of Mexican shoppers, spending huge amounts of Mexican money on the Texas side of the border. A random trip to any of the major grocery stores, discount stores, shopping centers or malls might show over half of the cars on the parking lot to have Mexico registration. Many of the retailers actually accepted the peso for payment as well as issued change in this Mexican currency. They would even post a sign with the daily exchange rate.

Almost all clerks, salespeople, restaurant servers, customer service personnel and anyone else, whose job included communicating with customers, were bilingual. On any given day, you might overhear more conversations in Spanish, than in English. Of those people in the area who only spoke one language, it seemed there were more Spanish speaking people than English.

I also learned that if a major retailer had multiple locations and one of those was in the McAllen area, that location would be at the top, or very close to the top, of the list in gross sales. Sometimes they might be beaten slightly, if the same retailer had a similar store in Laredo; which is another Texas/Mexico border town 140 miles upstream from McAllen where Interstate-35 crosses the International Bridge.

While these things almost guaranteed high sales volume, the demographics of the region provided an abundance of inexpensive labor. Many retailers considered the Texas Valley as the most lucrative of all the available markets.

The project I was to build was a relatively small but very “high end” specialty shop, for a new client. The “new” portion justified me being there as opposed to me sending someone else. I needed to learn as much as possible about this client and their stores, preparing for much more work in the future. This was to be the very first store carrying that brand name, located anywhere in the area, and because of the local retail economy, the anticipation of its success was paramount.

We were destined to be the very first store to open in a brand new, large shopping center, but we actually started the project a little too early. The developer for this center was new to that role, as he had made his fortune in another business and thought owning a shopping center would be a good investment of capital. To complicate matters, he was acting as his own contractor and had hired someone to supervise the project that was not experienced nor qualified enough for that position. I have always been amazed at people thinking they could be their own contractors. (but that’s another story)

After a few weeks, the store we built was 100% complete, including inventory and staff, but could not open for business. The City would not issue a Certificate of Occupancy due to the lack of a Fire Lane to be built by the developer. Tension was mounting on several fronts and there had been numerous and various meetings canlı kaçak iddaa involving me, the developer, the leasing agent, the retail business managers, many different City officials and other interested parties, trying to find a quick resolve to this dilemma. Although my responsibilities as the contractor would normally include procuring the C of O and delivering it to the store, there was a question about me staying in town after our portion of the project was complete. It seemed no one wanted to bear the cost of the additional compensation and “out of town” expenses as well as what general contractors categorize as “general conditions.”

About 4 pm one afternoon, I was on my cell phone, talking to one of my associates about our predicament. I was in front of the store and there were several store employees inside arranging merchandise. Their cars were parked in marked parking spaces nearby, so the front of the business, inside and out, gave every appearance of being “Open” for business. The missing paving for the fire lane was at the rear of the buildings and not visible from the street.

The anxiety of the situation created nervous energy, so I was pacing around as I talked, but always within 30 feet or so of the store’s front door. I had stopped briefly in the middle of a marked handicap parking space, directly in front of the store, as I was completing this conversation.

The Get Acquainted & Proposition:

Just a few seconds before I would have hung up anyway, a black Lincoln Navigator parked in the space next to me. The car had approached from behind me, turning to the right and into the parking space, so I didn’t see the driver at first. The windows of this black SUV were tinted dark, making it difficult to see inside from my position next to the passenger side. Several seconds after the car came to a stop, the front window on my side rolled down and the woman driver said something I could not fully understand. I held up my right forefinger and silently mouthed the message “just one minute.” I stepped forward to get closer to her, but only in an effort to hear her over the traffic noise on the busy street and to acknowledge her presence.

I finished my conversation by saying, “There’s a good looking woman just pulled up here and I’d rather talk to her than to you, so we’ll just talk again in the morning.”

As I flipped the cell phone closed and directed my attention to this lady she said, “Oh, you didn’t need to do that, I was just asking if they were open.” As she said this, she pointed to the front door and the employees working inside.

Even though I had greeted this lady in a friendly and cordial manner, because of my level of frustration, I’m sure there was some amount of exasperation in my voice as I answered her question about the opening. I said, “No ma’am, we can’t get a certificate of occupancy until the shopping center is a little further along.” In an effort to communicate better without interference from the street noise, I had placed my cell phone back in the belt clip and leaned forward, placing the heels of my hands against the window sill. My nose was about where the window glass would be if it was in the up position.

She kinda wrinkled up her nose and squinted her eyes in a questioning expression, so I continued, “The store is actually ready to open and it would be open, but there is some paving not in yet at the rear of the center, so there’s not a continuous fire lane to the next street.” With that, I pointed toward that street, probably 200 yards away.

She then showed an expression of disgust, rolled her eyes somewhat and slightly shook her head as she said, “That’s just my luck.”

At times like this, the effort should always be to win this person over as a customer for your client, so I said, “I’m really sorry; believe me, you are not the only person wishing we could open.”—“I was supposed to leave town and head back home today, but now I have to wait and see what happens with the C of O.”

She said, “Well shit, I’ve been watching this thing being built since the ‘Coming Soon’ sign went up. I used to shop at one of their stores in Austin.”

Now this lady was showing a little more tension than was warranted by the store not being open and I suddenly realized she might have picked up on that from me. In an effort to calm the moment, I tried to change the focus of the conversation by saying, “Oh, are you from Austin?” while showing some interest and excitement in my voice and expression. I had been to Austin several times and was thinking it would be easy to express a common fondness for the State Capital of Texas.

She gave me that same disgusted look as she answered, “Yeah, born and raised; even went to school at UT, but it looks like I’m living here for now!” Her tone and expression showed obvious dislike for this arrangement.

As we talked, she had placed the gear shift in park and turned the CD player to a very canlı kaçak bahis low volume, but everything else stayed the same. When speaking of the store, she would look that direction and gesture with her right hand. When I pointed toward the side street, she turned briefly and looked that direction. The remainder of the time, she maintained eye contact with me and kept her left hand poised at the top of the steering wheel. She was easy to talk to and I am not exactly sure who was leading the conversation; it just seemed to move along steadily.

I was not familiar with the Lincoln Navigator SUV, so during this initial interchange, I took the opportunity to scope out the car’s interior and as well as the driver. The car could not have been cleaner if it had been on a showroom floor. The leather seats looked and smelt new and there was not even any dust on the dash or console. It could not have been more than several days old, maybe a few weeks at the most but it was obviously well kept. The same could be said for the driver, she looked well kept.

She wore an expensive looking black pleated skirt that left her knees exposed, but no more. Her white silk top had buttons in the front, but because the overlap was turned the other direction, it provided no glimpse between those buttons. The silky material was just translucent enough to show hints of a white lacy bra underneath. She was about 32 to 35 with neck length hair that hung naturally to frame an attractive face. Maybe she was not a rival for the most beautiful model in the world, but she was pretty and certainly easy on the eyes. Her hair was about as dark as it could be and still look natural as were her eyebrows. Her skin was smooth and creamy colored, as if she spent very little time in the sun. Her eyes were big and looked like a kaleidoscope of several brown shades with a little green or hazel sprinkled in.

The way her hand was positioned on top of the steering wheel, it seemed to purposely display her wedding rings. The center stone was at least 2 carat and the smaller diamonds on either side of the main feature would have served as the solitaire in many rings. She wore what appeared to be a lady Rolex, presidential watch on her left arm, but I’ll admit I’m no expert at judging which model she wore. On her right hand and wrist were a matching set, ring and tennis bracelet, both displaying a continuous row of diamonds. I could not see a necklace but even without one, her hands and wrists looked like a commercial for a jewelry store. However, none of it looked gaudy on her and she did only have the one ring on each hand.

Under different circumstances, I might have been intimidated by her money, but she had approached me on my turf, plus there was something about her openness, tone, vocabulary and gestures that put me at ease. Her statement about living here for now had piqued my interest, so I asked, “So, what brought you to McAllen?”

She looked at me quickly with those big eyes and with a straight face shot back, “281!”

I had to chuckle at her wittiness in referring to “US Highway 281” that actually does bring you into McAllen from the North. At that point, any tension or apprehension that might have existed between us would have been gone anyway. My interest was now rampant, so I asked again, “Seriously, you seem to be more suited for Austin than McAllen, why did you move here?”

Again she gave me that roll of the eyes and the same look of disgust as she said, “My husband; He’s a doctor and the hospital here made him … AN OFFER YOU CAN’T REFUSE!” As she quoted that line, she tried to dramatically imitate the old gangster movies which might have contained such dialog. She then continued, returning to her previous tone, “The money is good alright, but money isn’t everything and if you don’t have time to enjoy it, what good is it.” Now the true origin of her frustration was starting to unravel. She went on to say, “He’s at the hospital from daylight ’til dark almost every day and then when he does come home he’s too tired to go anywhere, so he just sets in front of the TV watching the News Channel for a little while and then goes to bed.”

Now this was getting interesting, “And what do you do while he’s at the hospital working?”

“Mostly drive around and look for ways to spend his money and piss and moan about being here. At least in Austin I had friends I could hang out with!”

To this day, I do not know why I said what I did, because it is so out of character for me, but without even thinking, I said, “What you need is a good fuck buddy to keep you occupied while your husband works.”

Without even changing her tone or expression, she said, “Do you know where I can find one?”

I then pulled out every dramatic expression, voice tone and gesture in my repertoire. I took a quick half step backward and looked at my left wrist as if there was a watch there. Then I gave her a befuddled look and grabbed my cell phone to look at it, as if checking the time. Then with the phone still in my hand, I leaned my head further into the window than before and said, “I don’t have anything to do for the next couple of hours, if you’re taking applications, I’d like to submit mine!”

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