"Saved...? Or Savior?"

[JumpMyBones]

(Closed, but feel free to read along. )

Indochina (Undisclosed Location)
1969

Lieutenant Phil Taylor did his best to evade the surface-to-air missiles but to no avail, with the last one -- essentially a giant shot gun shell at the end of a heat tracking rocket -- shredded his tail section and disabled much of his electronics, not to mention leaving several pieces of shrapnel in his right leg and chest.

He was able to keep the jet level and on a steady course. Unfortunately, he couldn't be certain what that course was. It was 3am, and he'd been doing low altitude recon under cloudy skies. His position when the missile struck had been northwest of the borders between the battling Viet Nams, over Laos, where no American aircraft should have been.

After his futile evasion attempts and the disabling of his electronics, he had no idea which way he was heading. He tried to lift the aircraft above the cloud cover to navigate by the stars, but every time he tried to increase his altitude, the plane's jet's threatened to peter out.

He had no choice: continued onward and hope he was more south than north, more east than west. Then, even that choice was taken from him. Twenty minutes into the emergency, he began passing out for several seconds -- or even minutes -- at a time. He was losing blood, and if he didn't bale now and, with luck, be able to stop his bleeding once on the ground, he would be unconscious ... when the plane plunged to either the ground or ocean below.



When he regained consciousness, Phil could hear voices but couldn't make out the words. He'd learned enough Vietnamese to order food and negotiate over prices and services with whores, but that was about it. And in his state of disorientation, he wasn't even sure that what he was listening to Vietnamese anyway.

He forced his eyes open and looked about himself. His eyes simply wouldn't focus beyond a few feet. He could have been anywhere. And while he wasn't able to focus on what was distant, he was able to focus on what -- or who -- was near.

They were young and scantily clad, and even in his state of injury and disorientation, it didn't take but just a moment for Phil to understand that the trio were members of the sex industry. They could have been just dancers, of course. But in this part of the world, exotic dancers and prostitutes were essentially one in the same.

He studied them for a moment, trying to determine their nationality. Right now he could have been in South Vietnam, North Vietnam, Laos, Thailand... Hell, if he'd been unconscious and transported by those who found him, he could be in Cambodia, China ... hell, there just wasn't anyway of knowing.

Not knowing where he was and -- being a simple country boy from the Midwest who'd grown up never having even met an Asian until he'd joined the military -- he didn't have a chance of identifying the nationality of these women either.

He closed his eyes after ogling their sexy forms and asked meekly, "Where am I?"

 

[Mehitobel]

Mai blushed under the handsome Westerner's scrutiny, her hands making little fluttering gestures over her form-fitting white bustier, laced tightly up over a pair of healthy, pert young breasts. Her sparkling dark eyes were shy and anxious, looking everywhere but at the crashed pilot.

Linh, on the other hand, took pleasure in his admiring gaze. She squared her shoulders and thrust her large, firm breasts forward, letting the wispy red material of her bra struggle to contain it. Her costume bore even more tanned, nubile flesh than that of Mai and she positively drew attention to it, carelessly running a hand down her bare side and then planting it on her hips, provocatively. Her bold eyes returned the American's frank stare with a degree of curiosity. She'd heard that Westerners had the most enormous cocks... and the rumours made her very, very curious.

So it fell to Kim, in her lacy black bra and tights, to answer the pilot's question.

"You're in South Vietnam."


The trio had been on the run for a week now. Men with guns had taken them from their villages, told them they were going to Saigon, where they'd make men very happy. They'd become as close as sisters in the long hours in the hot, rattling truck -shy, smiling Mai; bold and reckless Linh and practical, caring Kim -the oldest of them at twenty one. They'd held hands in the dark and talked of their homes, shared the same bundle of rags as a bed.

And so, when the truck was stopped at a roadblock while their driver bribed the soldiers, Kim had seen their chance. A loose tailgate, one good kick, and they'd slipped out and into the jungle around the highway.

But the odds were not on the side of three beautiful, scantily-clad girls alone in the forest. Kim was all too aware that they could be seized by the next man they met -returned to the pimps, even now searching for them, or kept for personal pleasure. There had to be a way to save themselves.

And then, a crashing and roaring and a snap of branches. They had raced to the spot where the plane fell to earth, with no thought beyond helping the pilot. But now, as Kim looked over him, she had a new idea. He looked tough, muscular -a man who would know how to handle a gun, a man who knew cities and men. There just might be...

She leaned over him, her sumptuous breasts in his face, while cool and skillful fingers undid his shirt and trousers, looking to see the extent of the damage.

"We can help you..." she whispered in stumbling broken English. "But we need you... to help us too."

 

[JumpMyBones]

Phil opened his eyes at the feel of Kim's hands at his clothing. He blinked his eyes several times to clear them and focus on her.

The young woman was beautiful, with flawless, China Doll skin and long, wavy brunette hair. He studied her as she continued to bare his chest and -- with the already assumed knowledge that the girls were likely whores -- couldn't help but begin to develop an erection.

Realizing he was getting hard caused the 28 year old to blush, which is almost impossible when your blood it going to such places at the holes in your leg and chest.

His injuries, thankfully, looked a lot worse than Kim would think them. The shrapnel in his chest had penetrated his left side and cracked a rib, but it hadn't nicked any vital organs before it exited out his back. The two holes were so near one another that -- if she'd had one -- Kim could have put a single three inch bandage over it and called it good.

The injury at his right leg was a similar story. His trousers were shredded and bloody, but he shrapnel had only hit smaller blood vessels and not a large artery or vein. He was bloodied, but if the girls could stop the bleeding he would be fine.

"We can help you..." Kim whispered, "but we need you... to help us too."

The Asian beauty spoke in the same stumbling, broken English Phil was used to hearing in this part of the world. He'd been caught off guard by the language barrier when he arrived in Saigon six months earlier.

Oh sure, they'd repeated told him during training about the multitude of languages he'd be hearing in the two years to come; and they'd even begun his training in Vietnamese in particular clear back in Flight Training. But being who he was and where he'd come from, Phil had had this subconscious ethnocentric belief that -- who ever they were and where ever they lived -- everyone on planet Earth spoke enough English that would at least allow him to function in their homeland.

Boy was he wrong.

He opened his eyes again, staring into Kim's deep, dark orbs, and with the best smile he could manage, he said in his polite country way, "Always ready to help a damsel in distress."

There were some giggles, but he'd closes his eyes even before he got the last word out. He didn't know if they were laughing at what he'd said or just the way he'd said it. His accent was ... unique.

His family was, in a word, interesting when it came to their origins. His father had grown up a good old country boy from the deep south; his mother was a city girl from Boston. But they were both first generation Americans, and between his four grandparents -- with whom he'd spent an unusual amount of his childhood -- he had influences from Germany, Poland, England, and India.

The kids at school used to call him Ambassador because when the family got together their house looked like the United Nations. And yet with all of the language and accent influences, Phil had grown up not speaking a single word outside of the English to which his grandparents had restricted their children -- his parents -- to help them integrate into their new country.

Phil flinched as he felt hands near his wounds, whispering, "It's okay ... it's supposed to hurt the first time..."

He spoke the line in a bit of disoriented haze, on the verge of passing out again. When he'd said those words, his subconscious -- and, to be honest, a bit of his conscious -- was toying with the fantasy of having a foursome with three beautiful, sexy, scantily dressed Asian virgins.

His lips spread in a smile and -- as he drifted off -- he murmured, "You'll come to ... like it ... baby..."

 

[Mehitobel]

From the moment he addressed them, Kim had a good feeling about the foreigner. For all the hard muscles of his body, there was a certain sense of kindness and honour to his gaze, even when it lingered on their alluring, half-naked forms. And it was impossible to blame him for looking with the firm, nubile and delectable display of young flesh that their costumes bared. They had been forced to wear them by their captors, who obviously had a shrewd idea of what men wanted to see.

And the truth was that Kim by no means objected to the Westerner's gaze. On the contrary, she found herself enjoying it, unconsciously shifting and leaning forward so he'd get a better view of those large, round breasts encased in lacy black fabric.

I'm as shameless as Linh!

But a glance backwards found that even Mai was adjusting her long, flowing hair, a distant and thoughtful look in her shy dark eyes. The moment she realized Kim was watching, a look of horror replaced it and the eighteen year old's hands flew to her mouth.

Kim continued her inspection of the pilot's body, although an unexpected discovery caused her eyes to widen like saucers. She bit into her soft lower lip. Holy fuck. She'd never seen a cock before -none of them had, not even Linh, for all her bravado, but she'd never imagined they could be so big. Even just semi-erect, he was as big and thick as a tree trunk. Just the thought of that thing inside her made her knees go weak and sent a curious, liquid tremor running through her body.

It would split me in half!

"What is it, Kim? Ohhh... "

Linh had impatiently stepped forward, and now caught an eyeful of the object of Kim's attention. She stared open-mouthed, a shocked giggle escaping her plush lips. Mai craned her neck to see as well, and blushed like a crimson sunset.

Kim got a grip on herself, although that was hardly what she most wanted to get a grip on after that amazing sight.

"Come on," she told her friends. "We need to make a palanquin."


And so Phil woke up, his injuries bound with strips torn from his own clothes, lying on a bed of moss and leaves in some anonymous jungle hut. Delicious smells assailed his nose and the room was filled with the sound of sizzling meat -Mai was preparing a highly spiced meal, bustling about a makeshift fireplace and looking happy and domestic.

Kim was nowhere to be seen but Linh, still in her scandalous red bra and panties, was sitting at the end of his bed, watching him intently. The slender nineteen year old grinned as she saw him stir.

"Hi!" she said, in cheerfully broken English. "Hi."

 

[JumpMyBones]

Phil stared at the young Asian woman for a moment, his disoriented brain struggling to remember the last minutes, hours ... days? Before him, on her knees at the end of what he assumed was a bed, sat a beautiful, dark skinned beauty in virtually nothing, smiling to him, and saying with a chipper tone Hi!

His first thought was that he was coming out of a binge, still hung over, with the whore who'd serviced him the night before wondering where her money was. Then ... it came back to him ... as did the pain that, like him now, was beginning to wake up.

"Hi," he said weakly.

He looked about and -- seeing a second, scantily clad woman -- remembered that he'd earlier been looking at three sexy beauties. These women, his brain told him him, had likely saved his life after the SAM attack on his plane.

Phil tried to sit up, but a pain shot through his left side. He tried again, and was able to succeed this time, although not without hardship. He let his gaze move about the place. It wasn't much, but that didn't surprise him. Many of the people of rural South Vietnam lived this way, in simple huts with few if any modern conveniences.

He actually envied them in a way. Back home, before he'd enlisted to be a recon' pilot -- ahead of being drafted for ground action, very likely -- he and his family had struggled to make ends meet. And most of their expenses had been for stuff no one really needed: second and third cars, which of course meant gas and insurance; a television for every room; cable television, which had set them apart because they were the first in town to get it; and so many more things that were, essentially, purchased or otherwise paid for simply to make them feel one step ahead of the next consumerism minded neighbor.

Of course, right now, Phil would have eagerly spent money on a few of those things back home, particularly a bottle of pain pills and a bottle of Jack.

"Where's the other Egyptian princess?" he asked, looking between the two women who only gave him confused expressions. "Egypt... It's a country in Africa... The flag is black, red, and white ... like your clothes..."

The pair were still only staring at him, but Phil couldn't know whether it was because they spoke no English, didn't get the joke, or simply thought he was an idiot.

He saw what he thought might be a pitcher of water and asked for a drink. As they tended to him, offering him something to eat as well, Phil couldn't help but repeatedly ogle the two beauties.

Phil Taylor was no stranger to women, but this ... this display of erotic beauty was, none the less, overwhelming to him. Sure, he'd been to strip clubs, both here in the Nam and back in the States; and he'd been with his share of whores -- all here -- who had done their little strip teases for him before mounting him and earning their American dollars.

But these two women -- and the third, where ever she might be -- were simply ... they were simply here ... with him ... caring for him ... in their panties! He couldn't know, of course, that until they found something more appropriate to wear -- which out here in the jungles would be difficult or impossible to do -- that what they had on was all they owned. He just thought ... well, that this was either the way they went through their day or ... they were doing this to please him.

It was odd, and -- of course -- it was causing his cock to swell up with anticipation--

Fuck! he thought suddenly looking down toward his groin. It hadn't occurred to him until this moment -- particularly with the pain in his right leg -- that he was no longer wearing pants, the tattered clothing having been removed by the women who had patched up his thigh.

And with no pants and only his boxers underneath, his ten inches of thick, above average manhood -- now escaping through the fly of his underwear -- was lifting the thin cloth under which he was laying, causing a more than noticeable tent over his groin.

He did his best to shift the cloth to make his erection less noticeable, but he was simultaneously beginning to feel dizzy from sitting up. He had no choice but to lay back, which left a little mountain for the pair to ogle.

Phil gave up. He shook his head a bit and decided to bear his embarrassment as he remembered and commented upon something the woman in black had said earlier. "You said you needed help...? How can I help you? I can barely sit up."

And while he was trying to turn the conversation toward more important topics, Phil still couldn't get out of him mind the fantasy of having each one of these ladies mount his raging cock...

 

[Mehitobel]

Mai watched the foreigner eat with shy pride, taking great pleasure in selecting the most succulent dainties for him and wordlessly nudging them towards him with a bashful little smile. Linh was smirking at her, and Mai coloured but did not desist. There was no malice in Linh -the trio had quickly formed an impromptu family, with Mai as the shy and innocent sister, Linh as a rebellious but goodhearted middle sibling and Kim as their kind big sister and leader.

Mai wondered what that made this foreigner. Part of her somehow already looked on him as a big brother, strong and protective like her own brother had been... but part of her was having distinctly unsisterly thoughts about him. Just the sight of him made her pulse run quicker... and it sped into a gallop when that gigantic organ of his reared up.

Did that mean he found her.... pleasing? No, surely it was just because he was looking at Linh.


Linh meanwhile was smiling broadly at the Westerner. She stifled another silvery little giggle at the sight of the monster rising below his waist.

"Kim is... out", she explained.

The young woman was out on guard duty, if truth be told. They always had at least one of the girls out watching, just in case their pursuers caught up with them.

Now the ruggedly handsome pilot was asking about what Kim had said.

"We want a... protector," Linh said slowly. "We do not want to be... whores."

Her skimpy, insubstantial red panties were starting to moisten as she said the word, a dirty word in English. She didn't want to be a whore for just anyone... but she suddenly very much liked the idea of being a shameless little whore for this one man.

She leaned forward, deliberately offering Phil a view of the luscious valley of her breasts, pressed together by her insubstiantial, inadequate bra.

"Men are looking for us," she said huskily. "We need a protector."

 

[JumpMyBones]

"I'll protect you," Phil said softly and without hesitation. As soon as he'd spoken the words, he realized that it was the little head that was speaking for the big head. He clarified, "I mean ... as soon as I can get back on my feet, I'll, um ... do everything I can for you, or course."

Throughout his response, Phil had been unable to prevent his eyes from dropping repeatedly to Linh's cleavage. The women of Nam were so different than those back home, and specifically he had breast size on his mind as he was thinking it.

The women here were, typically, smaller women with smaller breasts. It was on one hand a disappointment, as he'd been raised to believe that a tall, leggy woman with a generous bosom was what ever man should be chasing.

But on the other hand, the whole tiny size of women in general thing was a turn on. You could so easily man handle a woman like this in bed, to manipulate her into the positions you wanted.

And, of course, even at 18, 21, 25, whatever, they all looked like little girls to the horny Americans. And there was something definitely exciting and alluring -- albeit totally inappropriate -- to that way of thinking.

Phil realized that his cock was again hard as a rock and now even was twitching a bit in anticipation. And then, he remembered what Linh had said and, being the typical male service man in South East Asia, asked with great hope, "So ... are ... are you ... well ... are you ... prostitutes?"

 

[Mehitobel]

It was so hard to avoid looking at Phil's erection. It matched the size of bulls' cocks Linh had seen back home. Just contemplating it made her feel dizzy and oh so horny. How would it feel, to suck on and taste a monster like that? Her mouth watered at the thought. Suddenly, her mind was filled with naughty, obscene images.

"We aren't prostitutes," Linh said. She caught Mai, who was hovering by the bed, by the arm and stood shoulder to shoulder with her, inviting the man's contemplation. "But you can do anything... you like with us if you protect."

There was a startled, aghast squeak from Mai at this frank proposition, but the younger girl did not break away.