Out of the Breeches...

Another day of writing the snippet!

Out Of The Breeches

Torg slowly realized he was awake. Not that wide awake start that some have, but the snoozy kind. Easing into conscious thoughts about the day ahead he realized there was something in his face and it was warm, soft, and comfortable. He reached up and felt the breast of the girl he'd brought home late last night. The waitress from Joseph's. 'What was her name? Megan? Morgan?' Torg racked his still have slumbering brain. “Marina.” He mumbled without thinking.

“Hmmm? Who's Marina?” Came a sleepy question.

Torg realized his foot had just inserted in his mouth and he regretted the Tequila he'd downed last night. “Sorry, love. I'm not good with American female names.” He tried to cover his asinine blurting out a name that was obviously not hers.

“I'm Mary.” She said. “My sister is Marie.”

The previous evenings events unfolded in Torg's mind. 'There was the dinner. The after dinner bar drinks. He had said good evening to Ralph and Cedar. They each took a cab back home. He had stayed and flirted with one waitress and then another.' He thought. His eyes cam wide open as he rose up and looked around. He was still sore as hell, but damned if he hadn't fulfilled a bucket whatever Ralph had mentioned a while back. Something about checking off the things you wanted to do before you died. His sleep filled eyes focused through the foggy hangover to rest upon the woman he'd been laying against, A brown haired cutie with a nice pair of pillow sized comfort. He turned his head right and found the other girl, a blond with nice features also, lying behind him. And dammit all if he couldn't remember much of what went on. Apparently they'd done a lot of whatever they had done because he felt really worn out and needed a shower badly.

He slowly worked himself out of the bed and into the bathroom. Showered, shaved, teeth, hair, and then realized it was Saturday. He sighed a bit and dressed in a teeshirt and jeans. He put on some socks and cross trainers, then chose a light hoodie to put on. It was getting cooler now that September was in full swing and he wanted to go to the range today. It had been weeks since he'd spent some time practicing his basic gun skills.

The first girl was moving and decided to make her was to the shower as well. Torg admired her figure as she simply turned on the water and stepped in. Apparently Torg wasn't the only Tequila drinker. As Torg finished putting his CZ P09 and extra magazines in his range bag, the other girl decided to sit up and smile his way.

“Good morning, handsome!” She stretched and yawned a bit like a kitten that was about to be up to no good.

“Mornin'. That was quite a night.” He tried to cover his fuzzy memory.

“Yeah, it was. Though I can't remember exactly what we did. Must have been good cause I ain't got panties on.” She grinned at Torg who suddenly realized her undies were on the blade of the motionless ceiling fan.

“One helluva night evidently!” he laughed a little. “Satisfaction guaranteed.”

“Mmmhmmm!” The girl stood up and turned around to look at the apartment. “Got any coffee?”

“Yeah, right by the Coffee maker in a little holder that turns.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “Help yourself.”

The girl was very pretty. Even though they had just spent the night together Torg felt an urge to go into the kitchen and help with the coffee. He smiled. “I'm taking off for the day to Roush Lake. Do you girls care to join me?”

Mary, the woman in the shower declined and said she had to go in early for the big event the bar was having that evening. Marie, her sister, replied she'd love to come along but had to barrow one of his shirts. Torg didn't mind and threw a few shirts onto the bed for her to try on.

The coffee was good, the bacon and eggs Marie whipped up were superb. The threesome ate and talked as they enjoyed the food, promising another get together and romp sometime soon. Mary got dressed finally and left the other two at the table. Marie finished her plate, rinsed off the mornings dishes and put them in the dishwasher, promising to set it to wash when they left for the range. Torg reached out and felt her smooth bottom as she was bent over. Admiring the female form factor.

“Careful, you might not make it to the range.” She stood up and headed to the bathroom for a shower herself.

“Promises, promises!” Torg smartly retorted.

Marie laughed and started the water running.

It was two in the afternoon by the time they pulled up to the range gates. The parking lot was full of trucks and sport utilities as Torg parked his Chevy Blazer nose first into the end spot. He reached into his bag and handed Marie a pair of over the ear muffs for hearing protection. She took them and put them on without question. Torg did the same. The reason was the noise of firearms can carry and echo loudly and you did not want to be without hearing protection.

The blasts of mostly black powder rifles and shotguns could be heard as many weekend deer warriors and avid firearms enthusiasts proudly put lead downrange in attempts at punching the rights holes into the right paper targets in hopes of success in the field. Torg loved America! Grabbing the range bag and locking the Blazer, they made their way across the parking lot to the fenced area that had signs warning against carrying loaded firearms around in the range area. This was common sense. You didn't want loaded firearms pointing at people. The range was for practice, not proof testing. Along the right side of the walkway entering the range, past the gate, were small carts used for carrying equipment to and from the vehicles in the parking lot and the shooting benches. Some were green, some blue, some even silver. 'Smart.' Thought Torg.

The pair made their way to the RO office about twenty feet inside and on the end of the small building toward the walkway. Torg opened the door for Marie just as someone set off a black powder rifle. Even through the ear protection it made everyone jump a bit. Big bore was big bore, no doubt about that. Torg closed the door and took off his ear muffs to speak with Bob, the RO.

“Howdy, Bob! Sorry I haven't been here for a few. Brought a friend along today.” Bob shook Torg's hand in greeting and smiled at Marie.

“Morning, Marie. He get you in trouble last night?” Bob smiled big. Evidently he knew Marie well enough to speak so casually with her.

“No, I got him in trouble. Mary and I ganged up on him last nioght, the poor drunk man.” She smiled and winked at Bob who just chuckled and pushed the sign in sheet toward them.

“Just don't shoot him. Hate to explain that to your folks.” Marie just smiled and promised with a wave across her heart.

“Well, I hope not. Or I might not treat her to dinner.” Torg teased.

After signing in and choosing the far right pistol bench, they waited until the cease fire was called and they were allowed to put up targets. A few minutes passed as the last stragglers from the one hundred yard rifle range came up and Bob checked the range, made sure it was clear, and called the firing session to begin. Torg went forward, placed his CZ on the bench while he put preloaded mags on the bench beside it. He loaded the mag into the CZ, racked the slide and carefully shot the target at fifteen yards. His hands and arms complained immediately. The healing was still taking forever, but he had to practice. His groups weren't the best for the first mag. The second and third mag improved and he was starting to shoot in better form. He ended that session with a decent two inch group. When the next cease fire came he unloaded the CZ, mag out, action open, and pointed the gun downrange as per range rules. They stood behind the yellow like and waited until it was safe to check and change the target. Marie put up a new target and they waited for Bob's call. As they waited Marie and Torg discussed his CZ and she looked forward to shooting it. When the call came to start firing, Marie put Torg's target in the dust. She was holing group after group after group. Torg was impressed. After that Torg felt he was in love!