Rescue

It was not a night to be out. In fact, I was such a hurry to get home, I was dangerously pushing my sport ute to the max in my rush. It was very cold and the rain was beginning to ice up my windshield. I had heard we should expect several inches of snow that night, if not a couple feet. I had a whole load of groceries in the back as well as the generator I'd just purchased with my bonus from work.

I looked at the road ahead and saw taillights at an odd angle. Someone had slid off the road and plowed into the ditch. As I got closer, a small woman ran out and began to wave her arms. I slowed down and pulled over, opening the passenger side door.

She got in, not at all dressed for the weather.

"Is anyone hurt?" I asked.

"No, she said, teeth clattering from the cold. "I'm the only one that was in the car. Do you have a cell phone? Can you call a tow truck?"

"Yes," I told her, "But there's no reception out here and you won't get a tow truck to come out right now. It's supposed to snow hard. There's a severe weather alert out. A storm is coming and we're gonna get hammered with snow."

"Oh," she said, dejectedly. "Could you take me into town then? Perhaps I can get a hotel or something."

I shook my head.

"No way. The nearest motel is 30 miles away. I don't have time to get you there and back. What I CAN do is offer you the hospitality of my humble abode."

"Do you have a phone there?" she asked, snidely. I smiled.

"I might. But you have to crank it real hard!"

"I don't give a fuck if I have to pedal it, as long as I can call my friend and let her know where I'm at."

"Sure, I'll let you do that."

"Thanks," she said, her teeth chattering audibly.

I turned my thermostat all the way up and directed all the hot air at her while I searched for my emergency blanket, a towel and the moving quilt I carried.

"Here," I said, handing her the towel first, "Dry off as best you can and then wrap the moving quilt around you and get out of those wet clothes." I handed her an insulated snowsuit I had.

"This will be too big for you, but it will keep you warm."

"Thank you," she said demurely.

I went to her car and turned off the flashers, bringing her keys. I decided to drop her off at the house and then come back to pull her car out of the ditch if the cops hadn't arrived yet.

"It's about seven miles to my house," I said, watching her move under the quilt and looking at the wet clothing dropping onto the floorboards. "I'll take you there so that you can warm up and then come back to see if I can get your car out.

"Thank you," came the muffled reply. I whistled appreciatively when I saw her delicate naked calf appear from under the quilt as she shucked her pants (and panties) off. Her head poked out from under the blanket and looked down, noticing that her legs stuck out. She said nothing. I expected her to glare at me in disgust. Instead, she simply stole some glances at me at me before ducking back under to pull on the large jumpsuit. After a moment, I heard zippers and she lowered the quilt. I finally got a good look at her and saw that she was of Asian decent and very pretty. The suit could have fit three of her in there.

I put the truck in gear and drove again.

"I'm sorry I was such a bitch about the phone" she said after a few moments.

"No problem."

"It's just that I'm frustrated because I got lost. If I'd realized it was the wrong exit, I'd probably be at her house right now!"

"What brought you out here?" I asked. "I live pretty much in the middle of nowhere and most folks didn't come out this way unless they live out here."

"I took the wrong exit off the highway and got lost," she said, staring straight ahead, "I was trying to turn around when my car went into the ditch."

"Where were you trying to go?" I asked.

"Portersby," she said. I was going to surprise a friend with a visit."

"I see," I told her. "Well, no, you wouldn't be there by now. It's still another hour and a half down the road and they are already being hit by the storm according to the radio. The interstate is closed right now. Oh, my name is Ray, just in case you were wondering."

"Chou," she replied, revealing nothing.

After a long silence, I looked at her as if evaluating.

"What?"she asked.

"Just trying to figure out what Nationality," I said.

I looked once again.

"I'd guess you were Korean, but I'm probably wrong.

"Chinese," she said, "How far down do you live?"

"Another five miles. You passed my house. From Taiwan?"

"Mainland," she replied, "I don't remember seeing any houses out this way."

"Oh," I laughed, "See that hill up ahead? The top of it is just above that tree line. It's well hidden and made of native stone. I wanted the effect of blending in with my natural surroundings."

"That's very… environmentally conscious of you."

"Not really. I couldn't give a fuck about environmentalist whackos. It was more a matter of economics. I inherited the land from my grandfather, but the house was in such poor shape, I just tore it down. I lived in a trailer out here for seven years before I finally got the house built."

"You built it yourself?" she asked, now impressed.

"Planned it, designed it and built it, stone by heavy stone," I told her. "I put it on the foundation of the old house. Gramps was an odd old coot and a John Bircher. I won the place by default since I'm his only grandson.

We talked more like this, with her loosening up as we did. I found out she didn't have any relatives in this country and had fled Communist China with her brother when she was 15. He had been wounded crossing into Hong Kong's New Territories back when it was still British. He died in a hospital there. She'd met her husband when in a bar and convinced him to hide her on the ship. He stowed away on his freighter, which was bound for the States with a load of electronics. He had died on the trip back. By shear will and determination, she had worked hard and had gone to college. Chou opened a small computer graphic arts business of her own two years ago when she was 24 and had finally come to the point where she felt she could take a short vacation.

I dropped her off at my house, showed her where she could wash and dry her clothing. She was impressed that my house looked more like a large mound of brush-covered rocks than a house. Gathering my tow-gear and some chains, I drove back to her car, pulled it out of the ditch and towed it home. I pulled into my cave of a garage just as the snow started coming down heavily.

I came inside and found that Chou had started a fire in the hearth, making the main room comfortably warm, and had donned one of my dress shirts, something I found very sexy. In the flickering firelight, I thought I could see her nipples through the thin white material as she finished making us soup and sandwiches.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, "I borrowed one of your shirts. All my extra clothing is in my car."

"Not at all. If you'd like, I can get your suitcase for you."

"We can do that later. Lunch is ready."

We ate the ramen soup and sandwiches she had made and she made admiring comments about my house. I informed her that the walls were anywhere from 16 to 24 inches thick, starting out with adobe and finished with local rock and dirt. I'd sealed and waterproofed the inside walls, insulating them with Styrofoam and other materials I'd salvaged from homes I'd torn down (which is sort of what I do for a living. I buy old homes in the surrounding city and towns and either tear them down, recycling all the usable stuff, or refurbish them and sell them, using the money from Gramps trust fund to finance the deals.)

"This is quite an interesting layout for a home," she told me.

"I know. I sort of designed it based on floor plans for communal houses from ancient Ireland. It had a long, arched main room with sleeping quarters and storage rooms as offshoots on either side. My study was in a 12X14 loft that was suspended from the ceiling beams with a small roof and windows that looked out from what I called "the watchtower." The house was just tall enough so that I could see the main road over the trees. It was my place of inspiration for writing.

"Would you like a tour of the house?" I asked.

She readily agreed and I quickly showed her the sleeping quarters (four bedrooms, the laundry room, pantry and bath). Then I took her upstairs to the library on the landing and lastly, to the watchtower, admiring her smooth legs and the peek-a-boo views I was getting of her ass as she climbed each step. Chou looked out the windows, hearing the wind howl for the first time.

"Wow, it's really coming down hard!"

"Yes," I said, "I was expecting a blizzard, but nothing this fierce. Shit, I've got groceries out in the truck yet!" I said to myself.

The view is breathtaking from up here!" she whispered reverently.

"Yes, it is. I do a lot of my writing from here."

"You write?" she said, turning to me.

"I try to. Mainly though, I work in construction… or actually, deconstruction."

I explained my business to her and she nodded appreciatively. She complimented me on my craftsmanship, noting many of the carved panels I'd salvaged from a lot of the old Victorian homes I'd had to tear down.

Chou asked if I lived alone, pointing to the pictures on my desk.

"Quite alone," I explained as we walked down the stairs. "My family was killed by a drunk driver two years ago. My eldest daughter was driving back from town, practicing for her drivers license test. My wife was in the passenger seat and my son was in the back seat. They came around a bend in the road and some rich fuck who had been out drinking and hunting all day was driving too fast in one of those huge, expensive SUV's, took the turn too wide plowed into them head on. According to the police, they probably survived the head-on with just minor injuries as the airbags had deployed. It was the semi coming from behind that killed them. Squished the car like an accordion."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Yeah. His big, expensive SUV saved his life, but they smashed the hell out of my wife's Accord."

I really didn't like talking about it. I hadn't thought about them for the past six months, letting the pain and sorrow recede. Now all the memories came flooding back in a horrible, dramatic rush. I must have been staring out of the kitchen window at the snow and crying a bit, because I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"I too know what it is like to lose someone you love," she said. Her arms wrapped around me and hugged me tight. I felt her soft breasts in my back and her cheek against my shoulder blade. Memories and suppressed desires warred within me. I closed my eyes, calmed down a bit and pried her arms from around me.

"Let's clean," I said.

I helped her wash up the few dishes from lunch and we were about to check on the clothes from the dryer when the lights flickered out.

"Damn," I spat. I hadn't pulled the generator out of the truck yet and the garage wasn't attached. I told this to Chou and she looked at me.

"Do we really need it right now?"

"I've got candles and lanterns for lighting and the stove is propane. If the power goes out, we will have zero water pressure because I'm on a well with an electric pump," I explained. "As it is, it's going to be a bitch getting that big, heavy generator in here and downstairs, plus I have all the food. You want to eat, don't you?"

Chou grinned. "I'd help you, but…," she motioned with her hands to indicate she wasn't exactly dressed for it.

"You're fine. I'm just not relishing going out in that gale and hauling 100 lbs of metal inside."

I wrestled the generator into the basement and then began to bring in the groceries. I put the frozen foods outside in a locked bin I keep out there. It was more economical that way. I didn't need to have a lot of freezer space then when the weather was cold.

I took the generator downstairs and hooked it up. Checking on my gasoline supplies, I found I had less than I thought.

"Damn! Well, I guess we just run it for two hours to keep the fridge cold and then shut down for the night," I said to myself. "I can take it out of my gas tank in the morning."

I came up the stairs and began speaking.

"Chou, I couldn't get your trunk open. I think you may have damaged it when you went into the ditch, so I wasn't able to bring your clothes in… "

I looked and she had fallen asleep on my couch.

This gave me a moment to look her over. She had a delicate, lovely face. Her eyes had dark lashes that didn't need any eyeliner. A cute "Sailor Moon" nose sloped down to a delicate mouth and chin. Her hair was cut in typical Asian fashion, with bangs across her forehead, though she had tied most of it into a complicated bun behind her, secured with what looked like chopsticks. She was tiny. She stood maybe 5' 2" to my 5' 9". Her legs were smooth, well shaped and tan. Her fingers were small and artistic. Her breasts weren't large, about the size of half-oranges on each side, but with dark, pointed nipples that I could now see through the thin material of the shirt. I was tempted to lift the tail of the shirt and look at her ass and pussy, but she began to stir.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, you old lech!" I admonished myself. "She's almost young enough to be your daughter… almost."

Twenty six to my forty. Fourteen years difference. No, she wouldn't be interested in me. Besides, I wasn't looking for another relationship. I didn't want to ever go through the pain of losing another soul-mate.

I stared at her one last time and then pulled a blanket over her form. She sighed, shivered a second and smiled, pulling the corner of the blanket up to her face, looking ever so much like daddy's little girl as she slept in the fetal position. I lit a candle and went off to my bathroom to flip through my girlie mags and beat off. I kept digging through magazines until I found one devoted to Asians and began flipping rapidly through it. I found the picture I was looking for and started to stroke myself faster. I was soon spurting a huge load in the air, staring at a picture of a bound and suspended girl that was a dead-ringer for Chou.

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of a portable radio being played. I came out of my room to find Chou making breakfast in the semi-dark. The guy on the radio was talking about the record snowfall that had dumped over two feet on us in the past 24 hours.

"Open the blinds!" I told her, laughing.

"They are open," she informed me, lighting another candle.

"Really?" I said in disbelief. I looked at the window. "Probably frosted over" I thought to myself. I took the stairs to my loft and found that the snow had drifted around most of my house, covering it almost completely. I gave a low whistle.

"It snowed a lot last night, didn't it?"

I jumped a little at her voice, not hearing her come up the stairs. In one hand she held a soup cup full of hot oatmeal and a cup of coffee in the other.

"Thanks," I replied, placing the cereal on my desk and sipping at the coffee. She smiled and silently padded back downstairs. After a moment, she joined me, pulling a chair up to the other side of my desk and sitting, still dressed in my shirt, but also wearing some sweats. She must have noticed me staring.

"I found them in a hall closet," she informed me. "My legs were cold and I figured that since you had a family, you probably still kept their stuff here."

I nodded and sipped at my coffee some more.

"Eat your oatmeal before it gets cold."

I smiled. She'd said it quietly, but firmly. I sat and ate, staring out at the vast white expanse, dotted with pines and the skeletons of leafless trees. I could see power lines down in the distance. Not just one, but dozens. It would probably be days, if not a week or so, before the power was back on. I'd have to conserve fuel. I was thankful I'd invested in a woodstove for my bedroom as well as the fireplace in the main one.

The fireplace was one of my designs as well. I tried to utilize as much heat as possible an had placed a boiler full of water in the middle of the flu, letting the fire heat it as the hot gasses flowed around it. Piping that stuck out of the chimney like a bizarre sculpture radiated heat into the room. In the summer, I reversed the process, sending the water into a cooling tank deep underground and then pumping it upwards.

All these things seeped through my mind as I stared out. It was interrupted by my feeling her presence just before her hand came to rest on my shoulder.

"It's a breathtaking view," she told me. I simply nodded. I could smell the spicy scent of her skin and found myself wishing I could push her to the floor, sniff and lick her right there until she cried out in orgasm. "Gads, man! Get ahold of yourself!"

"I would imagine you spend quite a bit of time up here," she whispered reverently, drawing me out of my fantasy. Her other hand touched my arm and I could feel her breast against my back and the side of her hip touch me.

"I do."

"I like it. You've made yourself a wonderful home here." She stood there with me and her head tilted, resting against my arm. I lifted it and put it around her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around me and we stood there, just looking out at the peaceful tranquility of my own little winter scene.

I was alarmingly aware of the lithe female form beside me. I also knew that with a quick swipe of my hands, I could have her naked and defenseless, taking her in any way I wanted. No one would know. No one would care. I could rape her in every hole. She could scream and there would be nobody to hear but me.

I shuddered, trying to shake off these thoughts from my mind. "Quit being such a sick fuck!" I told myself. It had been too long since I'd been with a woman and I'd suffered too much rejection in the past year. I was horny, damn it! Who would know? "I would know!" I yelled at myself. "She's not Sarah! You can't relive the past. If you try with her, she'll probably have you put in jail!

There was a thump and a noise, making us both jump.

"MMMMRRRRRowwww?"

"Oh, my God, it's a cat!" she exclaimed, relieved.

"Two, actually. Chou, meet Mischief and Mayhem, the true owners of Druid Hill."

Mischief, a large black cat, rubbed against my ankles while the grey tabby, Mayhem, stood and stretched from his perch atop my bookcase.

Chou bent and picked up Mischief.

"He's adorable!" she said.

"Careful, he doesn't like to be held much," I warned her, but Chou began to coo and scratch at Mischief's ear and he purred. I chuckled. The only other person that had been able to hold him like that had been my daughter and I said so to Chou.

"He knows good people."

"Indeed he does!" I said to myself,

I sent Chou down to feed the cats and told her I was going to start the generator.

"The water pressure here is via an electric pump from a well, so you may want to take a shower while the generator is running," I called out.

"OK, thanks!" she replied.

I went downstairs, made sure that the main breaker was off, and started the generator. I plugged it into the house wiring and then went upstairs to make sure that the fridge was running. I walked to the bath and heard the water going. Thinking that she would probably need a towel, I grabbed one from the closet. I had intended to just place it inside, but when I poked my head into the steam-filled room, I saw her through the frosted glass of the shower stall. Instead of standing under the spray, she had taken down the portable water-massage showerhead and was directing it onto her pussy. Chou was leaning against the glass of the shower stall. I could clearly see the outline of her body; the V of her torso melding into the sensuous pear-shaped globes of her ass, tapering down two firm legs. Soft moans escaped from the shower and she slowly spread her legs wide, letting the water play on her pussy and splash against the glass in an erotic vignette. She shook and stumbled, falling forward against the wall as she came. Her fist flew to her mouth and she moaned softly, "Oh god I need a fuck! Ray, please fuck me! Lick my pussy! Suck on my clit! OOOHHH… damnfuckinDAMN that feels good!"