NYC Blizzard of 2016

"Oh, I got a younger sister. She's back in India. She's eight years young. This year, she entered middle school," Nirvaan replied.

"That's so cool! I have a younger sister as well. Her name is Bee for Bianca. Our parents wanted to give all their kids names one after the next in the alphabet. But they never got to a third child to pick a C name. She's a freshman at a local college and stayed at my parent's house to save money," Anna explained.

They fell into small talk conversation. After having steadied, the storm started slowing down. With less wind force, snow started piling up on the windshield in a heavy layer. Their tension turned into boredom to wait for the storm to die down more. Every once in a while, Nirvaan made the windshield wipers work to clear the snow built-up. They bargained that if they could see the stop sign ahead for a solid 30 seconds, the visibility would be good enough to keep going.

Around 1 AM, they decided to give it a shot. After shifting into drive, Nirvaan carefully pressed on the accelerator pedal. Nothing happened. The snow buildup must give the car too much resistance to move. He edged harder on the gas. Then he noticed the engine working harder. The tires were perfectly spinning in soft, fluffy, and deep snow. Nirvaan let go. He went outside into the milder storm, but still a storm. He kicked at the snow in front of the tires. The fresh snow made him sink top-of-the-boot-deep in with his leather shoes. He repeated the attempt to drive off. Nothing!

"You gotta let some air out of the tires," said Anna. "My ex-boyfriend was an off-roading aficionado. Less air means limper tires. Limper tires mean more surface. Low traction means you need more surface."

Nirvaan felt a little dumbfounded. This whole time, he had been trying to plan for eventualities. And then she stepped up to save the bacon. He squatted down and let some air out for a few seconds.

"Na," she told him, looking out of the window in comfort inside while he was braving the elements and getting into the cold, wet snow. "You need at least a minute. You got at most 2 PSIs out of that tire. You can drop it as low as 15 or even 10 PSIs." He was feeling himself getting pissed off and emasculated. "Just be sure to go back up to 34 before you get on the freeway or the tires are going to pop off!"

His fingers were icing over holding the pin in the valve down with his car keys. He felt like he was getting frostbite. "What is she going to do next? Re-build the engine just to show me how cool she is?" Nirvaan felt bitter as he was struggling around the dirty tire.

Anna had been entirely right. The car made it out of the parking spot. The tires gripped pretty well. It felt like they were floating on the snow instead of cutting through it. The car was shifting up/down and left/right in the snow. There was a beauty to the softness of it. Nirvaan enjoyed driving. After two fishing small towns, Anna fell asleep next to him.

Her mouth dropped open. Her hands fell to the side of her lap. The expression of her body looked so dorky because she was so utterly gone. Her body was so fluid and flexible to fall in any direction easily. Because there wasn't a single car out, he drove in the center of the road and stole long glances at her. She was quite a hottie. Having become familiar with her, he could see her beauty even more. Before she was simply a standard yuppie hottie, but now he recognized the shape of her eyebrows. Recognizing those little things made him feel familiar with her, and gave him a sense of feeling protective about her. She had a trio of three freckles near the right corner of her lips. The lipstick was a soft pink, a little smudged by now. That little worn out make-up signaled to him how she cared for herself, how she put effort into how she appeared to people. There was an earnest trying to be liked by people that gave her a humanity that made him feel affectionate about her.

Every time, he thought of it, he was trying to bring back to his senses the exact smell her intimate body had smelled like when she was on his lap. For one, the smell of her was so amazing and delicious, but also he found himself craving to feel how he had felt when he smelled her. His whole life, he had always felt out of place. He had a hard time fitting in. He was struggling in school to keep up. He never knew what to do with his life but what he was doing at the moment wasn't it. Yet when he smelled her, he felt the peace of being exactly where he belonged. The existential angst was gone in that moment - not a little bit, not a lot, but completely! He craved to be back in that place, but he knew that social rules would make it impossible for him to get that close to her again. He felt sad - very, very sad.

Being lost in dull stupor of driving the empty, snow-covered roads, Nirvaan was startled by a question from Anna, "How many inches is your cock?" Nirvaan's mind burst. He was afraid to answer. He must have misunderstood her. He looked over at her face. She was still sleeping. Her lips were mouthing and puffing air. She must be sleep talking. "I don't care. I'll marry you anyway," she told him. "But I'm going to be the one who picks the flowers. You hear me!"

Nirvaan felt glad that he hadn't answered because he had been in the wrong. She was simply innocently sleep talking. "Of course, you can stick it in my butt. I wouldn't have it any other way! But you have to play with my clit!" Anna continued. Nirvaan held his breath. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to wake her or pretend to ignore everything? He drove very carefully. He almost didn't breathe so that she would keep sleeping and forget the dream by the time she woke up. Little by little, he got the picture of her dream scene. She was planning her wedding and had progressed to the night of the wedding. "Brown dick is so naughty!" she exclaimed with a devious smile in her dream. Was she dreaming about him?

"Shit!"

A big bang!

Anna's eyes opened right away. The car was stopped in the middle of the road. The road ahead was a pristine snow blanket. The fishing smalltown looked like they were actually pretty close to New Haven. Nirvaan looked tired. He wasn't moving. He seemed too frustrated to move.

"Okay! You can tell me!" said Anna.

"I thought I could make it. There is some kind of creek overflow, broken branches, frozen eyes, and some fresh powder. I think we are stuck against a branch but on ice. So nothing is moving," explained Nirvaan.

Nirvaan's eyes were red. He wasn't responding much as if he were catatonic. Anna realized that he was exhausted from driving. He probably had microsecond sleeps while he was driving. He didn't seem to be able to rouse himself enough to make a plan of action. The clock was 2 am when most people are sound asleep. She had to take over.

"Here is what we are going to do. You are stronger. You get out and push. I'll get behind the wheel," said Anna.

He couldn't think enough to protest. So he got up and out of the car. She scooted right after him into the driver seat, climbing over the center console. "Why am I always outside?" he asked himself.

"Okay, start pushing on three," she yelled at him through the open car door.

"That fucking bossy cunt! I hate her so much!" Nirvaan thought to himself.

"1 - 2 - 3 - PUSH!" she yelled at him.

He pushed against the trunk. Yeah, the tree branch was too much of an obstacle, and it was connected to the half broken off tree, which made it impossible to move it.

"Okay, it's time to channel your inner superman. I need you to push ten times as hard the next time," Anna cheered him on, trying to be as inspirational as possible.

"Who does this fucking cunt think she is?" Nirvaan complained in his thoughts.

"1 - 2 -3 PUSH!!!!" she ordered him harder.

He pushed harder. The car didn't move. The branch was too high. The tires were spinning.

"Okay, we are going to do a running start. I'll back up a foot. You start pushing, and we are going to make it work with momentum!" Anna took care of Nirvaan well when it was her time to step up.

"Do you want to mansplain me some more?" Nirvaan silently thought.

He let her back up. He waited for her countdown like a lamb. He leaned his whole body against the trunk doing a plank. She gunned it. The tires spun. The car went forward. With a jump, the car got over the branch. Freed from the branch, the car accelerated forward. The trunk leaving his hands, Nirvaan fell flat on his face middle into the tangle of branches, water, frozen eyes, and snow. He instantly felt the wetness down to his skin. The adrenaline kept the sharp feeling of frozen cold water on his body a bit at bay, but he knew that he'd feel the sharp cold very quickly.

He sprinted for the driver's side door. She kept the door locked and waved him a no. She sat like she had no intention of stopping to drive. She was all set up in the driver's seat. She waved him to get on the passenger side. Knowing that the clock on hypothermia was running out on him, he ran to the passenger side and got in.

"What the fuck? That's my car!" Nirvaan protested.

"Nirvaan, listen to me. You are too tired to drive. It's too dangerous. I've had a good nap. I'm fresh. We have to drive in shifts. It's your turn to sleep," explained Anna.

The shivering started. He felt dog tired. Obviously, he felt it was wrong to let her drive the car. But he also had to admit that he was barely there, mostly functioning out of habit rather than conscious awareness. He was too tired to say anything. He threw his arms up as a signal and clipped his seatbelt in. She drove them off into the night.

The shivering became harder. The front of his clothes was dripping wet from his plunge. The water was cold as ice. He tried not to make a sound but his jumping chest made him want to suck in the air suddenly. He was embarrassed to show his weakness. What could he have done anyway?

"Nirvaan, this is not the time to be proud. You are going to catch death or at least a nasty cold. Take off your clothes and drape them over the heating exhaust!" Anna ordered him, taking charge of the situation.

"I can't..." stammered Nirvaan. "Maybe, the sweater. I've got a shirt on underneath."

"Keep going," encouraged Anna. "If you sit there in your underwear, it's like you are in your swim trunks at the beach."

The shivering and coldness were too hard on Nirvaan, he swallowed his pride and stripped down, his socks, pants, and t-shirt. He was sitting in wet Scooby Doo underwear. Laundry day had come and gone without the laundry getting done. The last clean underwear was Scooby Doo, which his roommate had bought him as a joke. "It's clean and functional," he had told himself putting it on in the morning.

"So young, and he already has a dadbod," Anna thought to herself. "I like the look. He's making me feel more comfortable about the lump of fat on my belly. A brown man his half-naked next to me. That's a story to tell the girls.

He caught her stealing a sideways glance at him, but what really surprised him was the proud smirk that her face sent out when she returned her eyes back to the road - like she was genuinely savoring the memory of seeing his body. That was the most felt compliment that he had gotten his whole life for his body. He felt happy, utterly happy like dancing in the streets with an umbrella like a musical kind of happy. That was his last awake thought and it carried into his dreams.

When the car stopped, he jarred awake. He felt like only a moment ago, he had closed his eyes, but it was 3 am. They had arrived at their destination. His eyes sprung up. Only a moment ago, he had been running through the grand timber forests of the deep North of Canada. Now, he was in a suburban neighborhood with snow covered front lawns, ornamental lamps, mail boxes, and pretty trees with single family homes setback. Barely a car parked on the road because each house had a double garage. He blinked his eyes to get the blur out of them.

Beep-beep, snap, shove, thud, Anna had opened the trunk herself and taken her luggage out. She stood tall and trim with her gray felt coat on in the light a small European park street light. Her face was placid, a killer assasin look on it like most upscale women running through New York City. She had pulled any friendliness and warmth entirely back. The sudden coldness confounded him. The memory of their fingers touching in the dal bowl and her demeanor that told him that he was a mer service worker made him blink his eyes to clear up what was going on.

She counted out the money, one clean twenty after the next. A whole thick bundle, a sense of power that Nirvaan had rarely seen so close and felt its impact on him, she held it out to him with a straight arm, like she wanted him to keep his distance as well as if they were strangers in the street. "I appreciate the ride and how you went above and beyond. Good night, Nirvaan," she told him.

Nirvaan came out of the car, barefoot and in Scooby Doo underwear. He took the money. Pulling up his own professional guard, he said, "My pleasure, miss. I hope you choose us again in the future." She turned around on a pin wheel. He watched her walk away, dragging her carry on like a sled through the snow and her backpack swinging from one shoulder while her purse hung to the other side. All the lawns of the buildings had formed a single long, pristine white carpet. Her path a foot white from her carry-on was the only sign. Ruefully, he looked at that sign of her gone forever out of her life. One moment, she had been squirming in his lap. And now she was completely gone behind that locked door. Sometimes time can be so solid. If he could move back in time, she'd still be in his lap with her apple boobs pressed against him, and now for eternity there would be nothing.

He turned to get to the driver side of the car. Sitting at the wheel, he couldn't see the end of the road because his sleep drunk eyes were too blury. This stone tired black weight rested on his mind and kept him from coordinating enough to turn start the car. "Put in park, step on brake, and turn the ignition," he told himself, but he hesitated. His barely thinking mind had dull pounding: "Driving like this isn't safe." He couldn't sleep in his car either. His was the only car parked in the street. It would be too obvious.

A knock at the window next to his head startled him. Anna looked in anguished like she had forgotten something. He opened the door while looking to his right to search the passenger seat, console, and foot well.

"Hey, I'm an asshole," said Anna apologetic. "You did this heroic drive to get me home. And you are going to kill yourself driving home as tired as you are.You are going to freeze to death sleeping in your car. Come on in. You can sleep in my room."

Having faced his other optins in his stupor, Nirvaan got up. He walked behind her in his Scooby Doo underwear, leather shoes, and bare skin across the front yard to her doorstep. The air was chilly but calm. Heat steam emanated off his skin. She unlocked the door and put her fingers on her lips, "My parents and sister are sleeping. Follow me."

With that explanation, it was reasonable that she didn't turn on the light. Only faint light and shadow differences were visible in the dark. One had to know the place to make sense of them to navigate the layout. She took his hand and guided him forward. He felt the warm air, that mix familiar from winter that was equally comforting hot and irritatingly dry, the soft, fur-like carpet of soothing luxury, and the eerie feeling of venturing into the unknown of a private home. She guided him up the stairs. The sensation of sneaking, breath bated, and carefully tip toeing, imagining calmly breathing bodies easily roused from sleep gave his skin tingles.

Her room was at the end of the hallway. With the door closed, she turned on the light. A big Bon Jovi poster hung over her bed like she had been a huge teen fan. There was actually a signature on it. A small desk in the corner was full of little things. That's where she probably studied for high school in her former years. A cabinet had three dozen stuffed toys sitting on them, packed tightly. One wall was adorned to be almost like an altar with a mirror, ornamental bracelets hanging on the wall, routed in pretty patterns with push bins, and a couple feathers hanging as well. Entering her childhood room as like enterign a secret. Her facial features changed how she helplessly transformed a bit back into the teenage girl that she had been before college. We never lose that inner sense of who we were as a teenager. We simply cover it up with walls of adulthood.

"You can't sleep in those wet Scooby Doos. I can't get my father's clothes without waking him. I went through a baggy phase in high school. I'll get you something," she said and started searching through her drawer. He took off his shoes and put them next to the door. The room was pretty small. The bed took up most of the space, a beautifully high, fluffy bed with a little bit wall behind it to lean against, but two large windows on either side probably providing ample sunlight during the day. The bed was fully outfitted with a calico throw over the duvet, a band of a sheet that covered the feet, big show pillows and another row of white pillows for actually sleeping on behind it. A certain question to where he was going to sleep was on his mind.

"Here you go! That should fit. They are super large on me!" said Anna and handed Nirvaan a light blue short and pink, fitted t-shirt. The short had a girlie shape and no linging. The t-shirt was a size too small for him but would probably stretch on his body. She led him outside and to the right into the bathroom. "Here, I'll stand guard in case someone from my family wakes up."

The clothes were definitely very girly and would be a seem busting tight fit. But what were his options? He peed to get that out of the way. He looked around the bathroom. The fake gold covered fixtures definitely felt like a family home. There was something about their parent generation trying to find status symbols like gold to get a sense of doing well in life. There was also the variety of products and things in the bathroom that made it a family bathroom, super-sized, almost industrial shampoo for dad, hair curler for mom, and an explosion of little half used, messy jars for Anna's young baby sister.

The t-shirt hugged every curve on his body. The material was soft, which made him feel worse about overstretching it. The elastic band in the shorts were stretched to the max. He heard a couple cracks in it when he got it over his hips. The shorts were so short that the tip of his dick was hanging out through the leg opening. He tried to position his dick inside, but the pant construction was loose not like his briefs that are meant to hold things in. He tugged them lower to cover his penis head, but his wide hips were cracking the fabric again. Carefully, he found the balance between barely covering his penis head and cracking the waistband on his hips.

He walked out of the bathroom. The shorts rode up from the motion. He tugged them back down. Back in the room, she looked him over. He sensed his penis head was a millimeter away from showing. He tried to keep his cool under her glance, counting his breaths for the inspection to be over. He wanted to hurry out of sight and into sleeping to cover himself.

"Well, I can't let you sleep in the living room. Dad might accidentally shoot you if he finds you in the night. So this bed is it. It'll be fine," she said, reassuring herself with the last bit.

She sent him into bed. He crawled onto it, his knees deeply bending into the fluffy mattress. His feet had to worm and cave their way down in between the right layer of sheets to the bottom. His head was so high on the pillow pile that he almost felt like he was sitting up. The obvious clarity was that the width of his body was two thirds of the bed. The bed was probably luxuriously large for when she had been a teenage girl, but it wasn't a couples bed. He wondered how that would turn out.