Women I Have Known Karen Of Nome

Two-thousand words and approximately eight minutes of reading time.

What if I asked, "Have you driven a taxicab in Anchorage in 1972?"

You arrived in Anchorage in June. Egads! You were too early for a job working on the 'Trans-Alaska Pipeline,' because the US Congress hadn't approved it yet. You had scarce resources, and you were, maybe, a skilled surveyor, plumber, cook, welder, or whatever. Still, you were counting a union hall dispatch and leaving Anchorage for the pipeline project immediately upon arrival.

Instead, you are faced with paying for food and a roof over a bed until you could get dispatched to a job, hopefully on the pipeline, not in the local area. Because of the difference in hours, the pipeline means more money, lots more money.

You, the Pipe-liners from the lower 48, believed the late-night TV hustlers and hucksters, so you paid for many kinds of unavailable services, such as early hiring, due to a partial agreement of the Congress. This story sounds almost like the illegal's stories of the cartel fees and lies experienced by those attempting to cross the US border.

You arrived as a total stranger, unemployed, broke, with no room, and were stuck in Anchorage. The US Senate couldn't yet resolve the debate of the 'Pipeline' Bill,' to get it onto President Nixon's desk at the White House. You'd placed yourself in jeopardy and needed to work to save yourself from a failed attempt at a job on the pipeline in Alaska.

I was spared this tale of woe because I had a taxi cab that rapidly became a fleet of taxicabs only because of the timing.

In my high-level Blue Chip corporate job, I saw Alaska as a way to remove myself from the 'Rat Race' of people like me, fresh from the NAVY, educated on the GI Bill, and who were full of whatever thirtyish-year-old problem solvers do that leads to success.

My grandfather was an 1898-1899 great plains farmer's youngest son in the early U S immigration of German, Ukraine, Polish, Croats, and Russians through the Dakotas, Nebraska, Wyoming, and Montana, as far west as Idaho. When he left home, he caught a freighter from Seattle to Juneau as a professional hunter. He regaled me all my life with tales of those nights and days in the wilderness he could describe so colorfully. He cocked my trigger to jump on the first opportunity to work and live there.

On my first day in the Alaska corporate job, I wore a dark suit, red tie, black wingtips, and stone cufflinks. When I walked in at 8:00 am, I was greeted by the staff with a pair of large librarian's scissors which promptly trimmed my tie and shirt's cuffs with the cufflinks. The office staff presented me with a polo shirt, a pair of Chinos, and Sorrels. Each had a different type of snow scraper and snow brush inserted.

The people of Anchorage were relaxed, steady, supportive, and able to think independently as long as I worked there. They would prefer word games to dice games during Happy Hours in the saloons and drinking halls. Brain-twisting problems were shared and toasted. To get a single dice roll of Five Aces was a free drink. A great place to step away from that 'Rat Race.'

My last day on the Corporate job was in November 1975. I was presented with a Helly-Hanson Rain Slicker and Bib Rain pants. From the Nome office, I received Hand-beaded seal skin mocassins lined with caribou chest hair. The gifts were from the staff in the offices where I was associated. The Anchorage crew presented my tie and cuffs with links in a shadow box.

I left that job around 10 am and at 6 pm started my official self-employed first shift driving a taxicab for my new boss, ME!

On my first night, I caught a call at a restaurant at around 11 pm. It was cold and windy, and the ice was windblown and slippery. The sand trucks couldn't keep up, so it was treacherous to drive around. But that was the taxicab business. It went smoothly that night until I stopped at the restaurant for 'Gloria,' the fares name.

A strikingly beautiful blonde came out, wearing a long fur coat, and asked if she could go to the airport to meet someone. Of course, we did that, and at the airport, an equally beautiful black-haired beauty, also a twenties-something, came to the cab and got in the back with the blonde.

They gave me the name of a notorious after-hours club and the passcode they had for them being cleared for admittance. When I dropped them, the black-haired beauty said, "Driver, start your engine!" She sounded like a NASCAR fan.

The blonde reached over my right shoulder, dropped a $100.00 bill on my lap, and said, "Driver, I will be back to get the change. I am looking forward to searching you for it if necessary."

The black-haired one said, "Hide it well since she means to find it."

"Don't go away."

I sat outside the club in the cab for a three-hour wait, clearing the snow off once an hour. The meter was running the entire time of my wait and had registered $89.00 on the meter when the blonde stood at the entry, signaling with the crooking of her finger for me to come there. It had snowed about four or five inches while I waited, so she wanted me to carry her to the cab.

I started to wrap an arm around her waist and under her knees when she stopped me and said, "We... by the way, what is your name? I do not let a man carry me. So for this task, we will pretend you are a female, okay? Give me your female name, Driver."

Since I hadn't thought about such a thing, I said, "You name me, and get it right, okay?"

Grabbing my crotch, she said, "Have you ever known someone named Long?"

I cringed when she said, "I christen thee, 'Long.'"

"Now then, Long, how you get me to the cab is obvious. So pick me up by my waist, hold me tight, and set my knees on your hipbones. I will make sure I can handle the rest."

I was as hard as ice when I navigated the ankle-deep and slippery snow and ice. Kelly came out after I let go of Gloria to enter the cab.

Gloria said, "Damn, that chance got away," as she collapsed on the seat.

Remember, reader, we are in a snowstorm nearly ten degrees below freezing, and the wind has churned the snow to sleet. These two quite drunk twenty-some-thing beauties are slipping around in a fur coat and tall CFM heels on icy and slippery hard-packed snow lying on the dry wind-polished ice covering the ground.

Winter usually follows Spring, but these two created Fall that night when Gloria saw Kelly slip and Fall. Gloria was instantly out of the cab to fall flat on her back. Gloria went skidding down the slope toward the street. Then something caught her dress as she slid past; however, she rapidly picked up speed. At first, I thought the snag would stop her slide, but the fabric ripped and separated.

Kelly was struggling and writhing around in the snow because when she fell, she landed on her back and lost her breath. She managed to roll onto her stomach, and as she crawled to her knees, she tore the skirt off her outfit. When she stepped on it as she stood up, it tripped her, and she fell again. However, this time, Kelly fell on the handicapped ramp and headfirst slid down the ramp into the snow-capped hedge at the bottom of the ramp, where her impact shook the hedge enough to dump the icy snow on her naked chest and face.

So I stood there, watching two gorgeous women flounder and flop around in the cold, wet snow and ice as the storm raged. I started to laugh because I had been horror-stricken and helpless.

It was a second thought that took only a second to think, 'I am so glad I have this job. It is already exceeding the level of fun I ever had in the Corporate job.' Then I couldn't restrain the laughing and bent over with my hands on my knees until the laughing seizure passed.

I was closest to Kelly. I stabilized my footing. It is unbelievable how snow can be so slick on top of the ice! I reached for her and realized her dress was not there. She was starkers. There was nothing wrong with her appearance, but I quickly looked at Gloria to see she was nearly naked; the top of one shoulder had a torn piece of clothing pulled down across her breast. Other than that, I was looking at two young pussies, and three spectacular, if tiny, tits and over-tightened nipples from the cold snow contact.

Out of the cab's trunk, I grabbed two stadium blankets carried in a first aid box. I threw one to each of them and told them, "Get on the blanket, and I will slide you over to the cab and help you get in."

That worked like a charm, and in a few minutes, the three of us were huddled in the back seat, all of us shivering with the heater on full blast and rubbing the two of them to clean and warm them. Eventually, it only took a few seconds, and they made it into a grab-ass session, with me being the focus of all four of their hands.

It was impossible, at least for me, to be between two nearly naked twenty-something women who were runway model beautiful; and not have an erect cock. When one of them gripped it through my snow pants and Jeans, I was attempting to keep the other one's mouth and tongue out of my mouth and organize a warming taxicab for all of us.

I was overwhelmed and decided that if this was only my first time driving MY cab and the fares were like this, I was headed for a divorce because what I had at home to punch when she would 'let' me was not in the same league as this kind of action. The woman was smart, earned professional wages, was a good Mom, and was a former Las Vegas Go-Go Club Swing Girl. All that said, the problems stemmed from her being a nightly drunk.

One of them, Gloria, was sucking my cock, and the other, Kelly, was now sucking Gloria's pussy. I wound up on the cab's back seat with one on each end, rubbing us all with my come, two pussy's ooze, wet and nasty kisses, twenty fingers, and four hands.

The cab was parked in the driveway of the private house that was the after-hours club, and the only other parking was in the street below and beyond the cab. When I could sit up again, I saw a few people I knew. Only one woman, Vicki, said anything to me, and that wasn't until 6 am the next morning.

We separated after we had each claimed to have had two orgasms, and they were lying because, well, they were very visibly and vocally their first orgasms with a man. But I think they were lovers.

I gave them the cum smeared stadium blankets and dropped them at the Commander Chef Hotel.

They each tipped me an additional $200,00, and after exiting the cab, leaned in and gave me a wet kiss and whispered, "Thank you," from one, and, "Talk to you later, Dale," from the other.

So, Did you ever drive a taxicab in Anchorage? In 1972 it was relatively tame and ordinary. However, when Nixon finally signed the Pipeline Bill on November 16, 1973, the whole Anchorage business and family community rolled into a Boom cycle similar to the original Alaska Gold rush. Is history repeating itself?

In that time of plenty, I hired and watched over a hundred men and women go to the slope within an hour of the union dispatch notice. I finally hired all women, most of whom went on to the pipeline for the long hours and big money.