Rescuing a Snow Angel Ep. 03

Amateur

Rescuing a Snow Angel Ep. 03

Author’s notes:

The characters in this story are fictional, although it draws from some real-world personal experiences, dark ones and a few light ones. All sex is consensual, and involves of-legal-age participants. The main character also appeared, first, in the storyline, When the Dorm Lights Went Out — I Got Lucky!

My thanks to those who provided previous feedback. For the call for a longer storyline, I hope this answers that request. To the anonymous commentor, I took your positive criticism to heart and hope what you expected to find is, belatedly, found in this episode regarding the twins rescuing then rewarding Jim Rawlings.

+++++

Journal Entry

Sunday morning, the day after Christmas, I laid awake in bed, waiting for daylight to make its appearance — waiting for the sun to vanquish the darkness. Thoughts of the previous evening’s unabashed sex with Gabriella and Carmen had helped beat down some of the noises in my head. Sex trumps demons, sometimes; I’d come to learn that over the past year-and-a-half. After returning from the girls’ place late last night, I had been able to sleep for nearly five solid, restful hours. Another hour would have to tick by before the sun rose, again. How to get through that pre-dawn hour has always been troublesome. I tried to close my eyes, letting my thoughts drift and tried to relive the previous evening with Carmen and Gabby.

The first few moments of my arrival at their place started off a bit stiff at first — not my dick — the awkwardness of meeting the girls the day after they rescued me from the meltdown brought on by Carmen’s tongue-in-cheek comments about tying me up and jumping my bones. That awkwardness. However, we got through a very nice Christmas dinner, although I’d never had tamales, rice, and beans served along aside a turkey breast with cranberry sauce before. I didn’t mention that and the girls seemed as though it was a family tradition of sorts for them. The awkwardness began to dissolve as we learned more about each other’s history. And by the time dishes were washed and the table cleared, except for a showcase pecan pie, we were at ease with one another.

With all the stores closed, and the roads iced over I barely made it to their place, so I didn’t have the customary token Christmas gift for them and offered a sincere apology for that situation. That led to another round of apologies on their part for the comments about ropes and tying me up. And they too had nothing else to share as a means of atonement. As we ate the pie things got quiet — the elephant had entered the room. I could tell it was lurking in their minds but I didn’t know how to drive it away.

Finally, the elephant spoke up. It couldn’t do anything else but announce itself as it bore a heavy burden that had to be acknowledged.

“Jimmy, we’re really sorry about the comments. Carmen and I thought that we could, well, we could somehow make that up to you,” Gabby’s soft-spoken voice stammered. I could sense that something unspoken lurked just out of reach in her voice. She seemed to be leaving out several key unspoken thoughts that were flowing through her mind.

Carmen, the outspoken one, cut into her thoughts, “Jimmy, we really, really want to make it up to you — so since we really don’t know you very well. I’m going to just come flat-out and say it.” Her thoughts weren’t must more organized than Gabby’s. I found myself just sitting and waiting for the two eighteen-year-olds to get on the same page with one another. And that seemed to be happening more quickly as that telepathic communication that twins seem to have, kicked in as they studied one another’s faces for a queue on how to proceed.

Simultaneously they blurted out, “We want to fuck you!”

I found myself audibly catching my breath. In response, they turned into a bashful basket of giggles. The newness of lewdness had set both of them ablaze with blushed cheeks as they looked at one another as if to say, ‘Did we say that?’ Then turned to watch my reaction as I nearly choked on a forkful of pecan pie.

Setting down my fork, still containing a bite of the pie, I quietly asked, “Have you done this before, I mean, the two of you together with a guy?” I’d gotten very good at reading facial expressions, looking for body mannerisms in my Army training and field experiences with people under duress, but the suddenness of this outburst and how to read this situation was unfathomable.

They exchanged glances, then Gabby answered, “No. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want to or else we wouldn’t have asked you, Jimmy.”

“Have you, Jimmy? I mean done it with two girls before?” Carmen chimed in to fill in a moment of quietness in the elephant’s domain. “I guess we should be asking if you want to — to do both of us. Jimmy, you do get a choice in this too! Like, we don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to.” Her eyes were searching my face, checking to see if they had perhaps broached another forbidden escort sincan territory.

The hesitation in my response was there only because the idea of screwing twins on Christmas day was beyond my wildest imaginations possible. “Yes, I do have some experience with two girls together. So, sure! I’m game if you two are!”

I finally managed to put together a coherent sentence of my own. My thoughts had, during that pause, flashed back to the last week before my MBA graduation when Ginny and Alicia came to my dorm room seeking to provide Alicia with a wonderful first sex experience. Previously, I had also given Ginny her first climax, the one her boyfriend claimed she couldn’t have because she was frigid. She brought Alicia, as a result of that enjoyment, to experience the same great feelings. I took Alicia’s virginity as gently as possible and then the two of us taught Alicia a bit about pleasuring one another. Those two were my first and only experience with two girls at the same time — but this would be the first ever sex with twins. I don’t ever recall experiencing such joyous Christmas presents awaiting to be unwrapped as these two giggle boxes.

Their previously drawn, pensive lips quickly changed to shameless grins as they squealed with delight.

“How do we start?” Gabby asked. Her innocent look surprised me as she turned seeking my guidance. Just how inexperienced or just how naïve was she, I was beginning to think when …

“Duh, we get naked!” Carmen shouted out — a wide smile had spread across her cherry-colored lips as she provided the obvious answer to her sister’s question.

The next five minutes were frenetic as I tried to set a slow pace of exploration, but the girls were not having it. They were out of their clothes in the kitchen and pulling me down the hallway into a bedroom before I could react. Well, except for my now not so flaccid member trying to get some attention. I felt hands rapidly releasing the button on my pants and then pulling them off as a pair of lips were locked on my own. It took less than two minutes to learn that neither twin was a novice at finding their way around me. A wildly flickering tongue was bent on exploring my mouth and I just went with it.

From below, I could just make out a somewhat muffled voice talking about trying to keep my dick from bobbing up and down. The words floated up from between my legs as a pair of moist lips tried to capture my throbbing dickhead. An electrical charge coursed through my purple knob causing my buttocks to pucker as her tongue swiped through my pee slit. I groaned, barely breathing, as her lips slipped down over my energized cock. My head rocked backward, pulling me away from the dueling tongue. I could feel my toes curling as Carmen or Gabby, well, one of the twins paid homage to my throbbing dick.

While one, was it Carmen, was busy attending to my stiff boner, her sister was taking my nipples between her teeth, and teasing each one, vibrating them with her tongue. My limbs stiffened while my toes curled again each time her sister’s lips rolled over my pee slit. I could feel my dick straining reaching upward, struggling, and aching to climax. The combination of the rhythmic fellatio and the raking of my steeled nipples was deepening my breathing. I found every muscle in my body stiffing and my mouth opening wider as I gasped for air. Finally, I could no longer hold back. With a caveman growl, I came forcefully. My wad shot upward into Gabby, I believe it was Gabby, and she swallowed it all. Lying in a state of bliss, my dopamine high was blocking all my thoughts. As the tension in my muscles turned into jello, I heard one of the girls whispering.

“I told you he would like it! Now who gets to fuck him first? Me or you? No, let’s make this fair, we do rock, scissors, or paper to decide!”

Lying breathless between the two nymphettes, I tried to catch my breath. I did my best to treat them equally. However, they were too impatient to wait as I tried to eat first one and then the other to a boiling climax. I didn’t have enough hand dexterity to finger one as I ate the other. And finally, I paused just long enough to ask if they had ever done each other. The question caused a lull in the motions that had been rocking the bed. I could tell what the answer was in the lack of a response.

“Why don’t you try it I asked, and then guided Carmen to position herself over Gabby’s face as I returned to gently laving Gabby’s glistening cunt. I watched as Carmen slowly lowered herself down. I smiled, watching Gabby’s first, tentative tongue maneuvers reaching upward into her sister’s widespread oasis of moisture. It didn’t take long for the hesitancy to fade between them. With Carmen experiencing her sister’s probing tongue, I found it easier to concentrate on stoking the fires of lust in Gabby’s cunt as I built up a massive climax deeply within her. Her hips roiled until her body seized; as though paralytical. Her body muscles jerked, spasmed and then tensed over and over until ankara escort she finally curled up into a ball. Carmen, still kneeling over her sister, and I watched as her eyes rolled up into her head in that state of rapture where one disappears while awaiting a return to consciousness, oblivious to one’s surrounding.

Carmen looked at me with astonishment as Gabby collapsed having passed out. “Is she okay? Did we kill her?” Her voice was momentarily in panic mode, until I reassured her that she would be fine. She is just in sensory overload and she just blacked out for a moment, I explained. Gradually, panting deeply, she came down from her sexual high and lay sprawled out between us. Gabby’s grin and the sparkle in her eyes refocused on Carmen’s face.

“Gabby, that was crazy!” Carmen exclaimed when Gabby’s eyes opened again, “You got crazy FUCKED, girl!”

In the myriad of positional changes that followed, I lost track of who was whom in the name association game and mistakenly called Gabby, Carmen. Quickly, she gave me a pursed, pouty lips look as she lightly slapped my butt and announced that she was Carmen.

“Sorry, Carmen. But I can’t seem to see anything different about either one of you that would help me to distinguish between the two of you. Identical twins are – twins you know.”

“Yeah, well,” came her rejoinder, “maybe you were just too busy and didn’t notice it, but I’m the one with the prettier pussy, Jimmy.” Her mischievous eyes lit up with a laconic grin while reaching down between her legs to spread her glistening labia. “See, Jimmy, you haven’t had this one yet. Isn’t it prettier than the one you just ate?” she added while running her fingers up and down her swollen inner lips. Lasciviously, she was attempting to bait me into choosing one over the other.

“Well, that’s not going to be of much help in distinguishing between the two of you — unless you’re both always naked when the two of you are around me!” I chuckled while avoiding answering her explosive ladened question as to who had the prettier cunt.

“I heard that, Carmen!” Gabby rebuked her as she came out of the bathroom with a wet wash cloth and towel intent on cleaning up some misplaced cream. She flounced up to my face and plopped down near my head and also spread herself for a comparative look. Identical as far as I could tell, but I wasn’t going to go there!

“The way to tell us apart, Jimmy, is our vocabulary!” came Gabby’s rejoinder, while taking my dick in her hand. “I’m the polite one, without the vulgarity, and smarter, too!” she said giving my limp member a couple of soft strokes — looking for renewed life.

“The fuck if you are, Gabby!” Carmen shot back. Then both girls broke out in laughter. I watched their interactions with amusement. Clearly, they’re great at ribbing one another – without malice. It turned out that once I got either one of their bodies approaching orgasm, their vocabularies was almost identical. So, no, vocabulary wasn’t going to be of much help in distinguishing between the two, I concluded.

Perhaps just getting them a different color neck choker, as a belated Christmas gift, would be the best solution. I’d noted in my overseas time that by wearing a choker around the neck, girls tend to feel more secure and have a sense of safety wearing one, albeit at a subconscious level. Playing, or twirling it, helped them ease some anxieties as they waited for the next GI to enter the room.

++++

Reflecting on last night’s Christmas sharing of lovely supple bodies had eaten up some of those pre-dawn restless minutes. I just had to wait out the tick of time until dawn crested my window.

Alternatively, getting out of bed and going on pre-dawn runs was always one means of driving back the night time demons; however, that came with conditions — I needed street lights; I had to have good line of sight in the run; I had to …

None of those conditions could be met in this run-down end of town. Another solution was to get up and brood over coffee until the sun cut a swath through the gray cumulus clouds that had hung over the city for the past two days. I still had half an hour to kill before the rays pierced the apartment’s dim shadows. My night light; my constant beacon in the night when I couldn’t sleep, was helping to hold some of my past demons at bay. I rolled over and flipped the radio on. The weatherman promised a 30-degree day. The city had a fighting chance of digging out of the frigid icy mixture of snow and sleet that nearly killed a snow angel on my watch. A scrawny one that I had managed to rescue from the storm’s savage grasp.

Rachel, a run-away as a child, — came into my life that night. Although our encounter was brief, I felt it added a purpose for my living that evening. Her overnight stay and her exhausting sexual congress helped bury a few night demons for me. The fact that she also pilfered a hundred dollars, and fled the next morning before I awoke, prodded me to stay more vigilant around strangers. I had finally etimesgut escort bayan saved someone — one from among the many that I had lost over there; Horvath, Konig, Drodz, Talbert, and Esquivel and so many more floated through my thoughts. I took some solace in that good deed. Then tried to will away their ghosts from the present — letting them slip back into my unconsciousness — hoping they would stay submersed in the foliage of those dark jungles.

Sitting at the table, drinking coffee, and focusing on a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs, I thought about a remark by American financier John P. Grier in my MBA studies: No good deed goes unpunished, he wrote. As proof of that, for having done a good deed, I found myself caught up an emotional melt down triggered by the innocuous banter of the twin plowgirls. Just some stupid girl bravado talk about tying me up and jumping my bones for the weekend. That’s all it took to undo months of therapy. Months that tenuously helped weave a semblance of sanity and normalcy in my life. Lest that a three-minute silly conversation, pulled me back down into that mental tiger pit — as real as the tiger pits dug by Vietcong soldiers to maim or kill American soldiers.

The twins, having rescued me during another melt down, came to understand the gravity of their words and how it affected me. They turned what would have been another Christmas of turmoil in my life into a semblance of sanity. Pity sex. That’s was their way of apologizing for the grief they caused — the same way Rachel fucked me as her way of repayment for my life saving act, I suppose. No matter, it felt good; it lifted my spirits; it added a human touch to my survivorship.

Unlike Rachel, the twins hadn’t run off to leave me as an abandoned castoff. That’s how I knew I had a fighting chance of digging out of the mental tiger pit that often sprung up to suck me into it — of stepping out into the sunshine and soaking up the warmth of a new beginning. Gabriella and Carmen would be here. The sun would come out and cut a swath through my trauma once again. I watched the brightness of the rays beaming through the window and landing on the edge of the table where I sat.

Watching it creep toward me, as these thoughts played out in my mind, amidst the radio chatter, I focused on the empty plate. Finally, rising, I cleared the table, cleaned the dishes, and then searched for the box with my suit and dress shoes. I had to prepare for work – real civilian, first day employment. I pressed the wrinkles from an unused suit from centuries ago and ironed a white long-sleeve shirt carefully hanging them in the bedroom closet. They were ready for Monday. I spent more time spit shining a black pair of shoes — yeah — GI issued, but ones I could now replace with the money from Mr. Montgomery’s kind payment for watching over the vacant hotel complex for the holiday period.

The buzz of the gate alarm sounded, but I was prepared for it today. As promised, Monday morning, Mr. Montgomery arrived to discuss future accommodations. I met him half way up the driveway; he motioned for me to meet him by the office. I did an about-face and trotted behind his jeep back to my temporary quarters. Opening the door, I motioned for him to enter and followed him inside. I saw his eyes do a quick survey of the room taking in the clean-up and rearrangement of the furniture. It looked almost the way one might expect a hotel office to look, if it weren’t for the age of the décor. However, its appearance didn’t lighten his demeanor. He looked worn, worry lines creased his brow — it was not the look of man who had spent a restful Christmas holiday before returning to work.

“Did you get through the ice, okay, Mr. Rawlings?” he asked perfunctorily, no jovial holiday greeting, just straight forward business talk.

Ruefully, I replied, “Fine, sir, all was quiet. I met the twins who came to scrape the lot. Very proficient workers. They made quick work of the lot in about an hour-and-a-half then left for their next job. They took some time to spread sand along the walks for the guys when they come back.”

I left out all refences and details of my encounter with the snow angel. She didn’t cause any harm and left without a struggle, so I let those details go unreported. General orders would have called for a full accounting, but I had learned in the Army that a full accounting was not always expected if it meant more work for the grunt doing the reporting or the recipient’s need to know.

Taking a seat at the table, I poured two cups of military grade coffee. He took a couple of swallows before exclaiming, “Did you have this shipped in, or just beat some tar off the asphalt and brewed it, yourself?” I could swear I saw a slight smile creep out around his lips as he took another slug.

“Brewed it myself, sir!” I cracked back. My thoughts flashed back to my first coffee brewing assignment at Bragg, before I left for ‘nam. I’d arrived at the HQ [headquarters office], earlier than anyone else that morning and proceeded to scrub the coal tar laden pot before making a fresh batch of coffee. TOP [First Sergeant] was the first to arrive and, after the first swallow, exclaimed, “What the fuck, Rawlings, did you do to this coffee?”

Leave a Reply

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir