No going back.

This is a chapter from ‘Old Nick’. It is a chapter that is too explicit for the story, so I am putting it here as a short story. There may be others.

Mat sorted out the clothing he would wear to go outside into that storm to find those two, remaining men. He would have to leave the sisters alone, while he did that, but it had to be done.

It was snowing again now, and the wind had picked up.

Cognizant of his promise to them, he slowly lifted the covers back from the heads of the two women lying on that day bed, revealing Jessica’s face, to see her wide awake, looking at him.

He ached to lean down to kiss her and to slide his hands down into the covers with them, but they would be sure to object.

She spoke. “I heard you getting ready.”

He nodded. “I need to go.”

She slowly lifted back the remaining covers and slipped out of bed to join him, leaving her twin, Wendy, sleeping, his shirt pulled up around her, over her head. Wendy must feel secure to be able to sleep like that, immersed in all of his personal smells.

The way Jessica felt… the way her mind was working, dealing with their day; struggling to decide what to do, and how to do it… she may never sleep again. She envied her sister.

Mat sat on the upended log next to the stove, striving to ignore her carelessness with her attire, lacing up his boots as she watched him, wondering what she could do to help. She wasn’t comfortable with him leaving them to go outside, no matter the urgency.

His heavier outer clothing was lying across the table, ready to be put on.

Jessica made up her mind. She caused him to pause, as she knelt in front of him, placed her hands on his knees, slowly moving his legs apart against slight resistance, to get closer to him, moving in, and holding him around his waist, her head on his chest.

He was nervous, not sure what to expect.

She left him in little doubt what she was feeling for him. Her actions spoke volumes.

She took him by surprise. He was not sure what she intended, and he was on edge for a few moments, then his arms went around her in turn, as he rested his face in her hair.

She was warm, and soft, and she smelled good. He shouldn’t be thinking like that, putting himself on a slippery downslope, but he couldn’t help himself when he was this close to either of them.

She pulled her pajama jacket up and out of the way, letting it settle down onto his arms, leaving his hands touching her skin just above her waist. He was alarmingly conscious of why she had done that, and what she seemed to be encouraging him to do. His hands were as warm as she was, but he was nervous, and she must be able to feel him trembling. Her unbuttoned pajama top had drifted open. He could see most of her breasts and down... down into that hair. Her pajama bottoms were loose, too.

His temperature began to rise.

With a small adjustment he would be able to see all of her breasts... all of her. She didn’t seem to care.

“Do you have to go, Mat? It is not at all pleasant outside.” She had heard ice pellets on the metal roof, though it had soon passed.

She was playing an age-old game with him to try and change his mind. A woman’s naked body would always win, and she was almost naked.

He nodded. “I must, for all of our sakes.”

She moved, raising herself to nuzzle into his neck by his chin, and spoke softly as she gently nibbled on his ear lobe, as he had done on hers when he had… come close to having her… ejaculating instead into his clothing, but also onto her, once that bear, ‘Old Nick’, had lost interest in them.

Her top drifted open even more and her pj bottoms descended to her knees.

He could see all of her now. He could touch if he wanted to.

His clothing was not as damp now, as she had noticed when she had changed her position and touched him… without actually touching that item she knew lurked there, just out of sight, but whose presence was never in doubt. He was hard, too. She’d felt that as she’d moved into him.

It excited her to think of that occurring--his ejaculating onto her like that--along with his fevered breathing. She hadn’t understood what had happened at first (how could she?), but then it dawned on her. It had been flattering to realize that she could have such an effect on him.

He had not heard what she’d whispered, but he was not sure he wanted to know.

She repeated herself, blushing up at him.

“You may touch me if you would like to, Mat.”

That’s what he thought she’d said.

‘How. Where?’

So calmly said, but with such intense effect. His mind could barely function, now.

He held his breath. He ‘was’, touching her, but not, it seemed, as she wanted him to be touching.

She continued. “You’ve seen our unclothed bodies before now, Mat… both of us. All, of our bodies.”

He had, indeed, but he’d had to ignore them.

“You were interested. You even admired us, I think.” (How could they ‘not’ have noticed his attention to them, to their exposed bodies as he’d seen to them).

“So, it is not as though our bodies are not familiar to you. You ‘were’, interested. We both noticed that. It scared us at first. Now, not at all."

That admission was almost too much for him.

“You also touched me... us, more intimately before, when you helped, when you held under us as we… you know.”

When they had gone outside into that stormy weather, to pee with his help, considering how exposed they were, and how cold they might have become without his help.

He knew.

He tried to explain, though he fumbled, badly. “I did not mean to scare you at any time. I had no choice about how I touched you then, or held you; just as I had no choice about undressing you and getting you dry before that. Your feet would have slipped on the snow, out from under you, and there was only one way…. I had to hold you like that, to support your weight as you….”

He was still fumbling for words, remembering how they had been ‘sitting’ in his hands as he’d supported under them so that they could pee without falling, or getting injured, or wet.

“I did not intend to be… anything, other than helpful. If I seemed to take liberties with you… when I did that… I’m sorry, but it was not deliberate.”

He remembered feeling hair, tickling at his finger ends as he’d held under them to support them above the snow off the edge of the porch as they had ‘gone’. He hadn’t been able to change his very personal hold under them, without possibly dropping them into the snow.

They hadn’t said anything, or complained at the time about his touching them so personally. He had been aroused too, but they may not have noticed that about him. He hoped.

He was going to be a tough nut to crack. How much more obvious could she be?

She persisted.

Jessica was not sure what else she could do, short of undressing completely in front of him, and then starting on his clothes too, but that would be going much too far and fast. Even ‘this’, was ‘not’ how she should be behaving around any man, but he had that effect, equally, on both her and her sister. He was ‘theirs’, whether he knew it or not.

As twins, they would share him, rather than fight over him, though he might resist. Jessica, would have to be the one to get this ball rolling.

‘This’, where they were now, miles from anywhere and stuck in a storm, was where this new life for them had begun. It had to be put on a firmer foundation before they left this place in a day or two, or it might be too easy for them to drift apart.

That... must... not... happen.

They would never be able to forget it, however, this ‘beginning’, of their future life together.

If she had her way.

Nothing about today would ever be forgotten; from the horrifying events of that morning, when they had been abducted from their home, and of those men (their thoughts about them and what they would do to them when they were alone, being frighteningly obvious); to the drive up here.

Then, the sudden and bloody death of that first man and the possibly mortal wounding of another by this man who had intervened in their disreputable plans; to that bear… Old Nick’, and then to this man (again)… killing for them, and with ‘them’, learning about him in the first few hours, as he’d learned ‘all’ about them and their bodies. And she meant, ‘all’ about them! There was nowhere he had not touched, though it had been necessary for their survival.

No day could ever have been so full, or so eventful, as their day had been. Or so uncertain.

Until now.

He leaned in and kissed her.

“Jessica, Jessica.” He moved some hair back from her face as he looked into her face.

“You don’t have to do this at this moment, though I am very flattered that you think so highly of me. I don’t deserve it.”

He did deserve it.

He leaned in and kissed her again, but not the kind of kiss she really wanted. Did she have to grab his hands and show him what she wanted him to do, to touch?

“Relax. You won. You’ve already got me if you want me, but you don’t have to do this, too.”

Oh, yes, she did.

He paused, as he brought his thoughts under control, sensing her disappointment and frustration with him. She was offering him everything, even after knowing him only a few hours.

He should say more; admit what he was feeling and get it out even more into the open. “Yes, I want to touch you, everywhere. How could I not want to do that? I have ached to do that from the first moment I saw you both.”

Too much? Too soon?

And that ‘ache’ had been vividly expressed when he had ejaculated, just for her, but they couldn’t speak directly of that, just yet, but soon. The circumstance had been particularly difficult at that moment. He’d hoped she wouldn’t notice, but as she’d been holding him at that moment, how could she ‘not’ have noticed.

“And, yes, I would like to make love to you—proper love—but if I did at this time, what kind of a man would that make me, taking advantage of a very difficult situation for you both. And I ‘would’ feel as though I was taking advantage of you. You don’t really know me that well.”

He was wrong. His sister had been very forthcoming about him in the days they’d spent with her.

“Those things need us to understand each other much better; to talk about so many things before we move forward, and they should wait until we are safely out of here.”

No. That would be too late. He would escape again.

He tried to find too many reasons ‘not’ to do something.

“I know how I feel, Mat. But I want to be touched… intimately… kissed… I want to be loved… and ‘NOW’, not in some indefinite future. Life is too short and precarious.”

As had become very clear to them all, with one, possibly two, bodies out there in that weather.

She looked up at him, her frustration with him, clear to read in her expression. He was resisting, and as a man, he ‘shouldn’t’ be, being offered so much. Being offered everything any man could ever want!

She would have to think about it, and move more slowly, more carefully, and with forethought. A woman could always win if she thought about it.

“We seem to agree on a lot of things, Mat. ‘You’, know how you feel about me, about us. You told me. We feel the same way too, about you. Nothing that happens between us, now or… at some future time… will change that. And it would not be ‘wrong’. Not between ‘us’.”

“I know. But… time.” He was searching for reasons ‘not’ to.

They both heard the hail, hammering on the roof again.

He shouldn’t go out in that. What was another ten minutes?

Jessica, slowly stood up from him, pulled wide her pajama jacket as she watched his face… his eyes fixated on her breasts again.

How could he resist?

She kicked off one leg of her pajama bottoms, and sat across his knees, straddling him, leaning in to touch his face with hers.

He could not help himself.

His hands rose onto her breasts, as was demanded. He was also as stiff as a poker, but he’d been that way for a while now and she’d known it, felt it, when she’d pushed into him. Fortunately, she hadn't gone after him as she had, that first time.

He closed his eyes. He was not in charge of his own body. ‘She’, was.

She opened his shirt and was doing other things to him.

He felt his belt opening up, and heard the rustling of her other clothes as she moved around above him, returning again to sit astride him.

He checked, by gently touching behind her, under her. Bare cheeks. Soft moistness, yielding flesh, labia. Hair.

She had got rid of her pajama bottoms altogether! And the top. She was naked, but for those longer stockings. He kept his eyes closed. He knew what she intended. It was pointless to fight it.

His zip went next, and then…. He flinched, feeling her go after him, grasping him again--consciously, this time--and much more gently than earlier, as she brought ‘him’, into the dim light of the stove, to stand proudly forth.

She was seeing him for the first time! It was not so frightening. She had to stop herself from chuckling, nervously.

If she kept her eyes closed it might not seem so big and it wouldn't hurt as much.

If 'he', kept his eyes closed and did not see this, then it could not be happening. Right?

Who was he kidding?

He would hurt her this first time for her. And it ‘would’ be the first time. He did know that about these women. He’d listened to his sister describe them. Why wasn't she holding back?

He held her at her waist and touched her breasts, as she moved determinedly above him with no hesitation now.

He felt…. He knew what that was… her vulva, then the moist warmth of her vagina as she held him and guided him forward, moving closer over him, putting him into her, getting him started, then pushing down. It wasn't going. She pushed harder, realizing that she would have to used all of her weight to get that first step; the bulbous head, into that small space to open her up for the rest of him.

It would be difficult for them both, but especially for her.

How could she do this? Was this so important for her?

She was very snug on him; tight, as she slowly advanced down upon him, using her weight, threatening to strip the skin down from his very hard and stiff member.

If she didn’t complain, why should he object?

She must be hurting, but he could do nothing about it, sensing her determination for him, getting as much of him into her as possible and as soon as she could, before he came, which would be soon now, after that deceptively clever foreplay of hers, with the clothing and her sitting over him. She’d known he would be helpless to evade a direct approach from her that would brook no evasion.

'Concentrate you idiot! She wanted this, you lucky bastard!'

He'd never expected this in a hundred years.

He slid himself farther under her, driving himself deeper into her vagina, helping… feeling her slowly settle fully down upon him over the space of maybe a minute, maybe two, before she let out her breath, in a long, drawn-out sigh, as he focused as much as he could upon her breasts.

Success! She had made it seem so easy, but she’d had help. She’d felt slippery on him from some lotion from that first aid box, but she’d also been determined.

He took over from there, pulling her more securely down onto him, helping drive him deeper.

He risked opening his eyes, but they would not be open for long.

The light, even low light, hurt them, when he ‘came’. It was one of those reflexes, like responding to a yawn with a yawn, or shivering, sometimes, when he peed.

She was arched above him, her eyes closed, her breasts standing out, proud, demanding to be held.

He held them.

He must have hurt her, but she’d said nothing.

Perhaps, if neither of them ‘saw’ what was happening, then it couldn’t have happened! They could deny it.

Ha!

He pulled her down to lie more upon, and along him, as he went after her nipples with his lips, as she writhed upon him, above him, with them both breathing hard as they inevitably progressed to an unavoidable conclusion.

He suddenly stopped as he extended himself; extending his legs far out, stiffening, as he drove even harder into her body. It was as though he had fallen into a catatonic state, turned for an instant into a stone replica of himself, rod and all, as he drove up into her, and came.

Boy, did he... come! It was the end of the world.

He exploded with a long, drawn-out cry, followed by others as his love for her poured out of him and into her, even as the hail hammered on the roof in celebration, far above them.

The gods approved! They were applauding. There was even, thunder.

He gradually regained his senses.

She had won; beaten away his moral resistence! It had happened! She had made it happen. He had been too weak, but... dammit... it had been worth it. He, had failed.

It had been taken out of his hands by this woman, and she had got her own way; had got him to make love to her, overridden his reticence; his resistance. Next time there would be no hesitation from either of them.

It almost frightened him.

She said nothing, just lying upon him, above him, smiling now, with his upper back against the table supporting them both as he still sat on that log, still coming, and still thrusting deep into her.

What could he say? His mind was not in a fit state for speech.

Dazed, and perspiring, still out of breath, they slowly sat up together, not separating, unable to, with her still sitting on him, but not wanting them to separate too soon.

Who would be the first to talk about this?

If they neither of them said anything about this, then, like the ‘not seeing’ it, it hadn’t happened.

Yet it had, and there would even be evidence of it.

He held her breasts as she struggled to stand up from him, slowly feeling him come out of her body as she watched in disbelief.

All of that had been inside her? It glistened triumphantly in the firelight, wet, from her, and still leaking.

Surely not. Impossible! Her poor vagina!

She sank back down onto him, sliding him back into her in a slow, controlled way. It was easier this time. She did it to be sure that it had really, 'all of it', been in her there, to convince herself of it. It all went into her again, and so easily now. It fitted. Snug, mind you, but it fitted.

She believed.

She lifted up again, then paused, feeling him running from her and down his shaft before he'd got completely out of her, before she clenched up, to stop it.

She leaned back in, and kissed him, a victorious look in her eyes.

“Thank you,” was all she said.

He was just lying there, dazed. He should have thanked her.

She helped him to his feet, moving into his arms, putting her legs apart and sliding him into that gap at the top of her legs along her vulva, before helping him find her vagina again. She lifted his tip from behind, as she rotated her hips, bending her knees, leaning backward, pushing it up, to go into her once more, to re-live that memory. He was hard enough, but he wouldn’t be able to come again. Not yet.

She used her pajama jacket to dry him off, handling him lovingly, before putting him away after kissing that still aroused item of his, first (it tasted 'salty'), cautiously zipping him up. She’d let him see to himself from here.

She watched, fighting not to respond to the fluids trickling down her leg like a trail of insects, as he dressed himself properly, looking over to her as he did so, admiring everything about her, wanting to relive it all again.

She stood there, as good as naked, not getting dressed, letting him admire her as he needed to do. It would make it easier for the next time.

He had failed. But it had been nice, to fail. ‘She’, had won.

What was he thinking?

How was he able to think, after that?

He shrugged into his outer clothing, holding her hand as he moved over to the door with her, putting another pistol in his pocket, and taking the rifle with him and some heavy gloves that he would need.

She was going out with him, like that?

He signed to the dog, to ‘stay’. Buster put his head back down on the daybed. He saw Wendy withdraw out of sight again, under the covers. She had watched and had seen everything.

What the hell!

Jessica walked out onto the porch with him in the dark and as she was. She would survive a few seconds of that cold, just as those who ran out from a sauna bath and rolled in the snow, in well-below freezing temperatures, survived doing that, calling it 'invigorating', 'bracing'. There was no one to see her nakedness, except for Mat.

He kissed her, touching her breasts again. He dared do so, now, after she had forced the initiative. “Go back in, stay warm. I won’t be too long, my love. And… thank you for taking that first step.”

She laughed and kissed him, feeling him touch at her breasts again, and then touch her gently between her legs as the wind, whipped snowflakes around her exposed body, sending her nipples even harder for him to feel.

He would feel how wet she was, from him.

She touched him, in return. He was still hard, inside his clothing. It wouldn't take much to dissuade him from going... for a while.

Those memories of her body, would bring him back to them, once he had killed those men for having the gall to kidnap them, planning to do worse to them after that. 'That', was what had to happen, killing them, though he hadn’t admitted that to her.

And then he would have her again. Indeed, he would.