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    P. E. Knapp
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
Stop! Read First!  This story is marked Mature! There are Graphic Scenes, Sensitive Content, Sexual Situations, Foul Language, and descriptions of Traumatic Events including Death. 
This story is not for everyone! If you don't feel comfortable with ANY of the above. Please don't read!

Tragedia Et Amor - 12. Chapter 12

The next chapter for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!

We were all up early and Eric’s staff had breakfast ready for us at 7 am. Eric was engrossed in his Singapore reports as Quinn read over the last of the information we had on the rig and its condition. That is all suspect until we put our own team onto that rig for inspection. Something I would like to get the ball rolling on sooner rather than later. Regardless of the donation status. As the engineers told me, and the lawyer too, for that matter, we need to know exactly what hazardous materials and how much reconstruction the rig will need before we can use it. This will tell us how much of an investment we would need to bring it up to the standards we need to meet. Without that, our tenants from the University wouldn’t rent space from us and I need them there to validate my own research in seaweed and shellfish growth as well as my aeration buoy. Quinn loves the idea, but says we need to stabilize the Foundation first before we go charging off into research expenditures.

By 8:30 Eric had us out the door and into the car he hired to drive us around. The other staff was being picked up in the van he hired after they all met at the offices of Simon, Jenson, and Barringer. It was a central location for all of them. By 9 am, we were being escorted into a conference room at Oborus Drilling Company. Drinks were dispensed before we got down to business. They already had our original request of 10 pages on all the information we wanted to cover. They countered with a list of what they will provide. It was good enough to start with, as the lawyers and engineers looked it over with us. Lots of the terminology went over my head, but the team seemed pleased as we made small talk. One of the engineers had his own note pad out going over his list and crossing off items.

By 11:30 am we had answers we were looking for and the Engineering team was satisfied. They had also made the schedule for the first of the rig checks by the engineers to get all the on-site information they needed. That would take several visits across 3 days with a team of 8 individuals and was slotted for 3 weeks from now. Another two to three weeks for them to analyze the information and tests before getting back to us with ideas, needs lists, further questions. I mentioned the cost to Quinn, and he shook his head no, making me turn to Eric. and he gave me a dismissive wave. I am sure the cost for this adventure to the rig was 100 thousand or more dollars.

We took everyone to lunch in a private room at a very exclusive restaurant and Eric asked everyone to lie out their thoughts. Quinn was keeping notes, for which I was very glad he did. I would not remember half of what was said. After we thanked everyone, we returned to Eric’s condo.

“I think your biggest issue is going to be environmental issue. Aside from lead paint and asbestos. We’ll have to wait for the reports to see what else is there.” Said Eric as we entered the condo.

“And will they clean all that up?” Quinn asked. Eric shrugged.

“Not sure if they would do it to the satisfaction of the Environmental Protection Agency. That is really a question for Anton. He’s involved in decommissioning. He’ll have that information once the reports are written. In the end, you have an advantage. They don’t have the big crane ships in the US like they do in Europe.” Eric said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Jones Act. In Europe you can shop the ship designs around the world to get the best price on construction. Here in US waters, you can’t. Any ship used in US waters needs to be US Flagged. That means US built. Which means no international competition between shipyards around the world. That led to US shipyards concentrating on naval vessels, not commercial. When you build a commercial vessel in the US, it costs 2 to 3 times as much as it would to build it in, say, Korea or Germany.” Nodding in understanding at Eric’s explanation as I flipped through the file again.

Re-reading the specs on the platform house. That would be the research area that I and the University used. Even donated to us, it would cost hundreds of thousands to refurbish and equip it. We’ll need a new generator at the very least. That alone would be close to 100 thousand, as there needed to be two minimum, three preferred. Tanner. One of the Engineers works out our needs and costs. We will probably need to rebuild the old crane on the platform. You can’t just carry everything up the ladders used for boarding. Suddenly, the file was pulled from my hands and closed. Looking over at Quinn, he just smiled.

“Stop thinking. I would like to get some sleep tonight.” He said as he leaned in to peck my lips.

“Fine. You’re right.” I said as he leaned up against me.

“You two make a very nice couple. Your division of work complements each other’s strengths.” Eric said as he lowered his copy of the paperwork. Before he decided it would be a good idea to just relax. “Quinn has a point. Until the survey comes back, there is no sense in making any plans when we don’t know the actual condition of the rig.” And Eric was right, too.

This rig might be a total wash with too much needed to convert it. That leaves the question of just capping the well head and cutting it off at the 40 feet below Mean Low Water level. With Brownsville less than 200 miles away, that’s an option to sell the top as scrap metal. Or if it’s clean enough. Cut holes in it and drop it on the bottom. Water depth is only 130 feet. That causes us expenses. And you have to figure federal departments in too. Bureaucratic regulations and hoops to jump through. Maybe the Foundation wasn’t such a good idea after all. I sighed softly to myself, which caused Quinn to hold me tighter.

“You’re thinking again. I’ll need to tire you out tonight or we won’t get any sleep with you tossing and turning.” Quinn whispered into my ear. My head turned and leaned down to kiss him.

“We will tire each other out regardless when we get home tonight.” I whispered back, which made his eyes twinkle as he smiled.

 

Quinn

 

We had a few more items to talk about with Eric while we had an early dinner before we hit the road. The drive was quiet, and we switched drivers halfway when we made our bathroom stop to top off the fuel. After almost 4 hours, we were pulling into the condo complex and carrying all our gear up to our unit. After we pulled out our dirty laundry, adding it to the already large pile, I started a load before I moved Orion to the bathroom. He held me tight as I drew the water for the bath. Letting him check the temperature before we climbed in. 10 minutes after I massaged his legs, I had his dick in my mouth. He was exceptionally hard tonight, which meant it only took a few minutes before I tasted his seed.

“Thank you, baby,” Orion said lazily as he eyed me while I stood. I knew what those calculating looks he was giving me would lead to, as I offered him my hand to help him stand before we showered.

 

Orion

 

It was a long day, followed by 4 hours of driving. As I watched Quinn stand in front of me, naked and wet. All sorts of thoughts floated into my head of the things I would like to do to that body. The twinkle in his eyes as they locked to mine said I could do them, too. I took his offered hand and allowed him to pull me up and lead me into the shower to rinse off. That was as far as he made it before I pinned him against the wall and spread my legs to lower myself enough to thrust my swollen cock into him. His panting as he moaned and bucked against me was music to my ears as I continually thrust into him, causing our first mutual orgasm of the night.

 

Quinn

 

He caught me by surprise when I was shoved up against the shower tiles and pinned tight to the wall when his slick cock entered me. My boyfriend is in charge tonight, it appears, and I was loving every minute. We cleaned off after our mutual orgasm, and he carried me to the bed. I was surprised when he let me push him over as he had me pinned, then I realized why he did it as he handed me the lube. He was allowing me to take him tonight. To allow me to satisfy my own animalistic desires within him. And I did. Once we orgasmed again, he wouldn't release me. Wouldn’t allow me to pull out of him until his body forced me out once I lost hardness. I looked up his chest from where my head laid as he had pushed another pillow under his head, so he could look down on me.

“I love you. Thanks for everything you do for me, Quinn.”

“I feel the same about you, Orion. Is everything OK?” He let out a soft sigh as he exhaled.

“Yeah. I might have bitten off too much with this Foundation, but it will be OK. Regardless. I have you and that’s all I need.”

“We’ll be fine.” I said as I crawled up and slowly kissed those lips that spoke the loving words to me. It wasn’t long before I felt his growing hardness and I saw his eyes narrow just before I was flipped and pinned to the bed while he penetrated me. This is one of those times I couldn’t move him, even if I wanted to. He was making love to me. Marking me. Letting me know he is in charge and I am his. And I wanted him too. I wanted to feel him for days after he was finished tonight. Felt my climax coming as my body tensed. Orion did too, as his eyes bored into mine. I felt the extra burst of strength he gets just before he orgasms and made his final thrust into me before he shot his load. Four distinct pulses of hot liquid coated my insides as he let out a loud animalistic moan that made my body shiver in delight as I wrapped him tight with my arms and legs.

 

Orion

 

My boyfriend knows just what buttons to push to make me want him in the most basic of ways. He doesn’t want me to be gentle. He doesn’t want control. He just wants me as deep inside him as I can get when my seed releases. The look as his eyes glaze over and roll back in his head while we orgasm together and his facial expression is pure bliss. His body reacts to my every shot that my spasming cock fires into him. Which makes me cum so hard in anticipation of that whole body shiver he produces along with those moans. Once his arms and legs wrap around me, I know he is mine and always will be as I settle down on him. Glued together by his seed. Quinn’s lips will find mine in a few heart beats and show his love for what I just did to him again. I felt the gentle caresses of his hands as his body moved after the post orgasm bliss faded.

“I think my boyfriend loves me.” The words were soft, slow and full of meaning as his lips pressed on mine and his mouth opened for my tongue. There was no fighting for dominance. Just a tender kiss that expressed our love for each other. Pulling away, I murmured my reply.

“I think I love my boyfriend, too. I know he loves me. I just wanted him to know he was loved, too.” I felt Quinn’s smile against my neck as he pushed against me. Forcing me to roll over onto my back as he climbed on top of me. His hands gripped my leg as he kissed every scar before he moved up my body. No scar was left untouched by his lips before he pressed them to my neck.

“Oh yes. You are loved and I know you love me back just as much. Let’s shower and go to sleep, baby.” I didn’t respond. I just rolled over and lowered down on top of him.

Waiting. Once he locked his arms and legs around me, I lifted on all fours. Backing to the end of the bed so I could step off and lifted him up. His preferred carrying position was with my cock was under his ass. Carrying him into the shower and adjusting the water before stepping under. Quinn is still in my arms. Head on my shoulder. Lips kissing my neck as I let the water spray across both of us. My cock was still hard, and he tapped my back to tell me it was time for him to get down. And down he went. All the way to his knees as he slowly took my cock in his mouth for one last satisfying suck, I would never deny him. No matter how tired I was. And I was tired enough that he had 10 whole minutes of sucking, swallowing and licking before I grabbed his head. Pulling him tight to me as I erupted down his throat. Which produced a smile of satisfaction on his face as he pulled off and licked his lips.

 

* * *

 

When I awoke the next morning. Quinn was right where he put himself last night. Straddling my right leg and side. His left leg was between mine. One arm under me, the other arm stretched down so his hand could hold my cock and balls all night. Which works until it gets hard. Then his arm just lays, pressing down its length as his fingers laid across my ball sack. The feeling of my lips on the top of his head roused him enough that he stroked my dick a few times.

“Not a good idea, or you are going to get wet. Very wet.” I mumbled. His deep breath and exhale told me he was now more awake.

“Golden showers? You’re right. This isn’t the place for it.” He said as he moved his arm and maneuvered to lift himself up and hold out a hand for me. “We need to get moving, anyway.”

“Unfortunately. That is true.” I said as I stood and followed him into the bathroom.

We finished, and he went towards the laundry as I headed for the kitchen to make breakfast. Then it was off to school for half a day. Quinn will head to the Foundation after lunch, while I head to the shop. Our days are filled, and it’s not unusual for us to return home after 6 pm. With all the new information on the rigs, I have a long list of items I need to check into.

It was 7 weeks later when Quinn told me the engineering team was sending out the report for us to review before we make an appointment to meet with them for specific questions. Eric would receive it, too. When it finally came, I stood shocked as Quinn handed me a 300 plus page report. I flipped through it before I looked back at Quinn.

“Wow. Is about the only thing I have to say about this. It will take days to read it.” I said.

“A few days or maybe weeks to be able to digest it. We’ll get there in the end.”

“That we will.” I replied as I pulled him to me. “Hello my love. How was your day?” Which made him smile up at me.

“Very good. Even better now that you are home. Dinner is almost ready. You can flip through that or hold me until the timer goes off.” When he finished, I handed him the report before I leaned down and picked him up. Carrying him to the kitchen and sitting down with him on my lap.

“Now I can do both.” I said as he leaned in and kissed me. That lasted until the timer went off and he jumped up to check the oven. He had a frozen chicken strips and fries heating with some sort of vegetable medley on the stove.

The bad part about trying to read the massive report was we were now at the beginning of the summer tourist season. That meant I was working around the clock at the dive shop, with Quinn running back and forth between the Foundation and the shop. I only made to the Foundation on Mondays through Wednesdays and that was only for a few hours. Quinn usually has a brief of the items I need to attend to, which helps. He even had the condensed brief of the report that I was reading. That just hit the highlights and because I have nothing to compare it to. He is heading out for a few days to visit two other Rig owners with the team Eric assembled. Even Eric had done the head slap at Quinn’s idea. He was right. We should have done this in the beginning and had three or four rigs evaluated. In hindsight, it really didn’t matter how long it took to find one because the earliest one would be available was next fall. The majority were two and three years out. Quinn and I had talked about that too. It might be better from a fund-raising standpoint to wait two years. Once he made me sit down and work out the math behind his assumptions, it worked out he was right. In June we both had a quick family dinner to celebrate us both graduating from high school. It was a non-event as far as I was concerned but took pride in watching my boyfriend receive his diploma.

 

Quinn

 

We made it through the summer, and it was now September 2005. All the reports have arrived and even mom sat down to read them with us. In the end, it looked like our first rig would be donated by Benson and Associates in the early spring of 2006. They were an employee-owned business and had taken the best care of the rig that was built in 1975. Orion had gone out and toured it for a final inspection before we issued a Letter of Intent in October. They approved it at their monthly employee meeting. That was the first step and allowed us to use their name as the donation entity on our November mailing blitz. Orion had added another 10 thousand to the account to cover the extra part-time staff and mailing lists. The Foundation took all the information we had and created the nice-looking brochure. Our targeted mailing of over 17 thousand pieces had created quite the stir at the Post Office. That meant Orion had to hire a mailing service and outsource the mailings. Everything should be at the mailing address before Thanksgiving and that is when we crossed our fingers. It was hoped that we would catch people in the holiday spirit and in need of charitable donations to reduce their tax liability, which is a real thing with the wealthy. I smiled at Orion’s projections based on his discussions with Eric. If he is right, we could very well pull in over a million dollars just from this mailing. Orion is also pushing this new online YouTube thing. I guess people post homemade videos and can get paid by the amount of viewers they have. Somehow tied to advertising.

 

Orion

 

I needed a vacation. All this work on the business and foundation is taking its toll on me. Internet is a beautiful thing, and I made some inquiries about cruises out of Miami or Fort Lauderdale. Spotting one that looked interesting, OK, the possible port tours looked interesting. Specifically, the submarine tour in St. Thomas. Both of us had our Pass Ports. It only took me 5 minutes of suggestions to Quinn before he agreed, as he felt we both needed a break too. And it was cheap because we would be going the second week of December. Prices skyrocketed for the holidays. I managed to get a balcony stateroom and arranged a flight for us. We just needed to be up in Houston the day before to fly out at 6 in the morning. We should be on the ship by 11 am. Then Quinn talked me into flying out a day early an overnighting in Miami, which prompted a change in flights to Friday evening and a hotel room. The next morning, we would have the hotel curtesy van take us to the port. We were both happy with the plan to escape in three weeks.

Thanks for reading!
Copyright © 2024 P. E. Knapp; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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