They didn't have to evacuate the little cottage in the Village By The Sea, but this is not the vacation Mr. Helms had wanted to take with his family. Florida was not so hot this time of year, and the kids loved the idea of taking a week off from school. Even Selene had been able to join them from the middle of her senior year at the University. Mr. Helm hadn't seen his eldest daughter in nearly nine months, and now he was watching her panic in the resorts largest cottage with his wife and three younger sons adding to the fray.
"Daddy, are you sure it's safe here, the wind is blowing the trees in half," Selene was freaking out, looking at out the window with her brother.
"Hey, Steven, come check this out, that car is moving across the parking lot by itself," Selene's window partner gleefully explained.
Ok, Sammy, Mr. Helms' middle son wasn't exactly panicking, but he wasn't helping either.
Little Shelby's screaming exacerbated the whole scene. Mrs. Helms was pacing the sitting room floor with the squirming two-year-old trying to escape her arms.
"Ok, every one on the couch, and quiet!"
Sammy and Steven obeyed, but then started hitting each other.
"Separate. Now!" Mr. Helms grabbed Shelby and put him between the ten-year-old and the eight-year-old, and suddenly he was quiet.
But his parents were ready to kill them all, or each other.
Selene decided it was time to close the curtain and do something else. Watching the hurricane outside was just making her feel panicky. It was making them all panicky.
As much as she loved her parents, they didn't do well in a crisis situation. It was time to send them to their room and give them a time out before her mother's pacing drove them all crazy. And their father's yelling was just out and out annoying.
"Why don't you guys go into the back bedroom and take a time out, the boys aren't going to calm down until you do."
Mrs. Helms knew her daughter was right, and she led her husband threw the hallway to the third bedroom on the other side of the kitchen.
Mom and Dad were out of their hair, but what was she going to do with the boys?
"Want to play Battle Ship, Sammy?"
"Give me a break Sissy, I want to watch the hurricane," Sammy said, getting up from the couch. Shelby was getting squirmy and Steven looked tired.
"How about lunch?"
Shelby was probably just cranky from hunger. Steven's eyes brightened up a little.
He said, "can we make our own?"
Sammy came from the window because the answer was the difference between their mother's leftover yucky meatloaf that she had said they would eat at every meal till it was gone; or p. b. and j. sandwiches, chocolate milk, and Cheetos.
Alas the cure in any crisis; junk food. Her smile was all they needed to run down the hall with the hurricane a distant memory.
"But be quiet or Mom will come in there and make you eat the yucky meatloaf," she called after them.
The storm outside was loud enough to drown their voices once they had gotten to the kitchen. So loud that Selene almost didn't hear the knock at the door.
She looked out the peephole. It was the handy man she had been flirting with all week. He was the owner's son, and at 23, a year older than she. He was the cutest thing she had seen in Florida, though she might have not noticed him at school. He was not as tall as the guys she usually went for, and not as built. But he did have a slight shape to his arms, and his legs were ok. Maybe he didn't look like a foot ball player, but she could tell he did exercise even before he had mentioned he was a sprinter. Track had gotten him a scholarship to a state U in California. He had graduated last year and was helping out his parents before he went back to start an IT job in Orange County, 6 months from now. Majoring in Software Development, they had something to talk about when they had run into each other around the resort.
She opened the door.
"Hey, I just wanted to check on you all. We're getting this a little harder than Storm Alert said we would. How is every one?" Ben was soaked through, and his usually thick brown curls were slicked down to the side of his face.
"You better get inside, Ben before the wind takes you away." Her smile was wide and her straight teeth had given Ben cause the like this girl, ever since she had gotten here. She seemed shy with her family around, but the few times they had a moment alone, she was very BOLD and he could tell she liked him. These stolen moments of dirty talk had been the jumping off place in his fantasies of her for his nightly jerk.
"The boys are in the kitchen, making their own little hurricane with lunch, I'm sure. Mom and Dad are in the back bedroom."
Mr. Helms had been trying to calm his wife since they had shut and locked the door to the bedroom. All calming words had failed and now the only other option was to just fuck her till she was exhausted and fell asleep in his arms. The last family crisis had ended the same way, finding Selene in bed with her then current boyfriend during Thanksgiving dinner. That was the day Shelby had been conceived, he was sure of it. The Thanksgiving Baby. Maybe they could make a Hurricane Baby.
He stepped in front of her path, which stopped the pacing. He put his hands around her waist and brought her body in close to his. His kiss was forceful and exciting.
"Are you sure we shouldn't check on the kids--" she was cut off by his mouth on hers again. His hand slipped under the sundress and found its way to her generous ass, fondling the soft flesh. Four kids had added some weight, but a really big ass had always gotten him hot. No complaints here. He got down on his knees and began to pull down her damp panties.
"The kids are fi-" the last word was cut off by the trimmed mound at the top of her legs. The gateway to her wet pussy. His thumb pulled back the mons the expose his wife's clit. His tongue could now find it easily. Mr. Helms also found great joy in creating the spasms that began to shake his wife.
His tongue wouldn't let up, even when she had tried to gesture toward the bed.
"Not yet," came the muffled reply as he lapped up at her clit with his tongue, like a starving man. The hurricane outside muffled her cries of pleasure.
