The Pull Out Game Part One
It had been snowing for more th..
🕑 Added 2021-10-04 16:36:31 +0000 UTC
The Pull Out Game Part One
It had been snowing for more than half the day. The weather report indicated that the storm had no plans of letting up. Rachel was in her office. Ken Snide was her last patient of the day. A cocky narcissist who couldn’t stand the sight of his wife anymore because of the weight she had gained postpartum. Rachel had to nod and agree. Tell him what he wanted to hear. That a lot of men go through this and he just had to give his wife a chance. Some time. She had to somehow find ways to justify his many affairs. The only good thing about this man was the cash he paid her for an hour session.
Because of Ken’s long winded session, the hour had gotten late. She set up a following appointment with Ken and bid him goodbye. The man drove this year’s model Land Rover and when Rachel looked out at the parking lot, saw Ken have absolutely no trouble navigating through the snow. She could only hope that her Subaru was going to have just as easy a time.
Rachel grabbed her jacket, put it on – making sure her ring of keys was in the pocket – and took her pocketbook off the desk. She put her computer to sleep for the night, turned off the dim office light – it was all about setting the mood – and stepped out of her office. She shut the door, locked it, and went down the hall. She worked in an old Victorian house that had been renovated into offices for the practice. Sometimes at night, the old building would whisper, the heating vents hiss and the house would have a voice of its own. As if it needed to lay on a couch as well.
Rachel came out the door into the storm. The wind gusting so greatly that she could feel the cold on her body through the down jacket. Her red hair flying across her face so she had to search for the lock on the door, the handle covered in a layer of snow, through large wisps of her hair.
She turned around to see a white portrait of the city street. There were only patches of color as the snow had encased everything in its sight. “No, no, no,” she said as she tried to run down the stairs. The snow falling into her boots and already absorbing into her pantyhose. They would be soaked before she could even get the car warm.
Her car was buried in a heavy layer of snow, at least a foot high. Her doors almost invisible, the snow clinging to everything it touched, a heavy thick snowfall. Rachel carefully stepped through the snow, her boots sinking and sticking, making it awkward to walk and many times threatening to knock her over.
When she finally got to the car and unlocked it with the key FOB, she found she couldn’t get her door open. Not with the amount of snow that held it in place. Rachel put down her pocketbook, it sunk into the snow, and began to pull. She was able to get it a couple inches open but that was it. There was just too much snow in the way. Rachel bent over, she felt the cold strike her thighs that were only concealed by her black pantyhose, and a gust of wind blow up her skirt. The cold air against her warm body. She began to dig at the snow with her gloved hands, trying to pull away enough so she could successfully open her door.
“Can I help?”
Rachel whipped around. She had only been able to hear the whistle of the wind and hadn’t heard the vehicle pull up, practically behind her.
“You startled me,” she said with a gruff to her voice. Annoyed more with herself that she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings. Especially in the city, snow storm or not.
Standing in front of her, dressed from head to toe in all black – from the beanie on his head down to the heavy boots on his feet – was a man with a dark beard and piercing blue eyes, he held a shovel over one shoulder – it would have been comical if not for the dire situation – like a huntsman with an ax.
“I can dig you out,” he said. A coy smile, she had no time for, tugged at his red lips.
Rachel felt a tingle between her legs. She lifted her pocketbook and put it in front of her as if she were standing nude in front of him and trying to conceal what she could.
“If you want,” he said.
“Yes, of course,” Rachel told him.
He stalked through the snow, a head taller than her, and stood before her. She could see the outlines of his muscles even through all that winter gear. Rachel felt that tingle again as he leaned in. “You are going to have to move.”
“Right,” she said awkwardly. Rachel stepped to the side and almost instantly his shovel penetrated the snow. He dug in with a ferocity that she couldn’t take her eyes away from. He pushed his shovel deep into the heavy snow and flung it to the side as if it didn’t weigh much at all. She knew it did from trying to move it herself. But he kept going. In only a few moments not only had he shoveled out her door – it was now wide open – but he had made a path from the car door – he pushed the shovel in one more time and lifted, heaving the snow over his head – right to her feet. He stepped to the side.
“Your chariot awaits.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“No thanks necessary.” He was smiling again and it made her stomach flutter. He reached out and Rachel drew back a fraction of an inch as his heavy black glove came at her. A single finger traced her hairline as he tucked a misplaced trail of hair, behind her ear. The wind cracked and the hair came loose. “I guess it doesn’t want to stay put.”
“Doesn’t seem that way.” She smiled. “Well thank you.” Rachel wanted to lean in and kiss him thank you. Just a peck. On the cheek. That was all she wanted to do to thank him. Certainly not on those lips, soft and moist. The feel of that beard against her mouth while she parted her lips to let his tongue slip inside.
Rachel turned around, she imagined that his eyes were on her ass as she put her pocketbook – leaning over the driver side seat – and placed it on the passenger seat. She knew her skirt was short. Borderline inappropriate. But she had worn it because she knew it would drive Ken crazy and she was sure it did. The temptation of her body displayed for him. Her power – like the kind he craved – over him to not fall into his sexual traps. She enjoyed the tease. The power. The denial that she would always have for him no matter how much he turned the charm on.
“Well,” Rachel said like a school girl, “I should be going.”
“Yeah, I suppose you should.”
Rachel sat down and started her car. The door still open. She looked up at her hero and noticed he hadn’t moved an inch since freeing her of the snow. “Are you off to rescue someone else?”
“I am in fact.”
“Oh,” Rachel said, surprised, “Is this what you do during storms? Drive around and rescue helpless women.”
“Or men. Really anyone. Gets me out of the house and the old Jeep can handle the storm pretty well.”
“That’s kind of you. What made you want to do this?” Was she seriously trying to psychoanalyze this man?
“Boredom and being a good Samaritan I suppose.”
Rachel bit her lip and spoke in a breathy tone, “I need to go.”
“I see that. Have a safe night.”
He did step away this time. Rachel reached out and grabbed the door pulling it closed. Wondering if she missed an opportunity. She had been so busy with her job she rarely had time for dating, but who was she kidding, she didn’t want to date this man at all.
Rachel put the car in reverse and started to go. The car struck the snow and stopped, the tires spinning.
“Hold on, hold on,” the man yelled. He went to the front of the car and put his hands on the hood, “Go when I say.”
Rachel nodded.
“Go!” he began to push and Rachel put the accelerator down trying to get the car to move. It rocked a bit but didn’t go anywhere. Finally, he let go of the hood and she stopped trying to back up.
“Can you pull me out?”
He smiled.
“Nope. Going to have to call a wrecker.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
“It’s probably going to be awhile. Do you have anyone to stay with you?” he asked nodding back toward the Victorian.
“No.” it came out without thinking. Why would she ever tell a stranger that she was alone? He might have been a serial killer. A very handsome serial killer but still. “I’ll call from inside.”
“Well, you have a good night.” He said and started off.
Before she knew what she was doing Rachel called out, “Would you stay?” she asked, “I mean would you mind? Waiting with me? So, I’m not alone.”
He didn’t say a word. Instead, he walked up to her, closing the space between them again, the mist of their breath intertwining before rising into the air, reached down and took her pocketbook from her. “So, you don’t fall.”
***
“Cozy,” the man said. He followed Rachel into her office, she turned on the light, the dim yellow hue filling the small office. She sat down at her desk, crossed her legs, forgetting how short her skirt was, so that it rose up her thigh almost to the curve of her ass. She thumbed through her wallet until she found her AAA card and made the call.
“Now we wait,” she said.
He gave her a mischievous smile.
“So, do you have any cards or games.”
Rachel laughed, “Why? Do you want to play strip poker?” Again, the words flooded from her mouth without thinking. She blushed but held his eyes. She had been a psychologist for too many years to get rattled but impromptu statements. She’d just have to see where this conversation rolled.
The man stood up. He pulled off one glove with his teeth and then the other, placed them on the floor and unzipped his jacket, that too dropping to the floor. He stood in overalls, a tight white fleece layer that showed more outlines of muscles. Rachel could feel the dampness between her legs. She crossed them and uncrossed them, feeling her skirt ride up even higher but ignoring the voice in her head telling her to adjust it. She didn’t want to. Rachel wanted him to see her. To eye her pantyhose and imagine what her skin looked like underneath.
“I’m already a layer down,” he said. “Your advantage.”
“Too bad I don’t have a deck of cards,” Rachel said.
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