Republic

The rain lashed against the windows. A small pool of water began to form at the edge of the doorway. Teresa shook her head in disgust as she carried a tray full of dirty dishes back towards the kitchen. Her help had quit in the morning and now this storm. What else could go wrong? She bit her lip and cursed softly. Two years ago, the town had begun a revitalization of Main Street. However, the state had cancelled the funding due to budget restraints. Now every time there was a heavy rain the restaurant's basement flooded. She placed the tray on the already cluttered counter and headed for the cellar door.

A few steps down the stairs reassured her everything was all right. The sump pump was whirring. The two freezers were high and dry on the their concrete block supports and their monitor lights blinked green to indicate that everything was OK. "Please God, keep the power on during this storm. I don't need..." Her silent prayer was interrupted by the sound of the antique bell that rang every time the restaurant door opened and closed. "Shit!" she muttered and hurried back up the stairs.

"We're..." her statement was stopped by the sight of the customer who stood with his back to her, in a pool of water just inside the door. He looked like a drowned rat. He was stripping off his rain gear and his leather jacket. He placed everything over the back of a chair near the table by the door. Small pools of rainwater soon formed by the chair legs. She watched intently and then started again. "Excuse me, sir, but we're..."

"Ohhh," Her voice startled him and he turned to face her. "I'm really sorry ma'am. I've been riding for hours in this rain and you're the only place that was open. If you give me a rag or a mop, I'll clean up the water." His tone was apologetic but self-assured. Teresa silently studied the figure before her. He was in his fifties, about six feet tall, with an athletic build. His T-shirt had a large wet V down its front, and he was obviously cold and tired. Teresa sighed. She knew she could not send him back out into the storm.

"Look, I was just closing up," she began. "The grills turned off but if..."

He held up his hands. "No, no, just a cup of coffee and a piece of pie would be fine. Please don't go to any trouble. I just appreciate getting out of the rain for a little bit."

"The coffee's stale." She replied in a resigned tone. "I'll brew a new pot. I could use a cup too. Would apple pie be OK?"

"That would be great," came the reply. "But please don't go to any trouble. Where is your washroom?"

Teresa pointed to her left. "It's over there and down the hall. The light switch is just inside the door."

"Thanks," he replied as he walked past her and down the hall. Teresa thought she could hear the squish of his sodden boots as he walked by. She just shook her head and headed towards the kitchen.

The preparation of the coffee and the apple pie was interrupted by the noise of dishes and cutlery. Teresa peered out the doorway and into the restaurant. The customer was clearing tables and stacking the dishes on the stool counter by the kitchen door. As he approached the counter with another handful of dishes, their eyes met. "Just trying to help out. I appreciate your kindness and I worked in a..."

Her curt "Whatever..." cut him off. He stood there holding the last of the dirty plates and coffee mugs and watched her backside disappear back into the kitchen. "Nice ass, but a tough nut," he thought to himself and placed the dishes on the counter. He seated himself on a stool and waited.

A few minutes later, she reappeared with a tray. "Brewed my own special coffee. The apple pie's hot, so watch it." The words were delivered in a quick staccato that indicated she was used to getting her own way. "Hope you like it with cheese, I do." The statement was not meant to inspire comment.

"Well, whatever..." he boldly responded with a grin. "I just appreciate all the extra effort you have gone to, Teresa."

"What the...? How do you know my..."

His finger pointing to the spot just above her left breast stopped her mid question. "I was going to ask what you called the other one but..."

"But you saw my winning smile and thought better of it, didn't you?" she admonished and they both started to laugh.

"My name is John, and I really do appreciate your hospitality." He extended his hand. Teresa was caught off guard. There was a brief awkward moment. She was trying to remove her apron. It caught on the back of her head. She wrestled with it and placed it over the dishes on the counter. She blushed when she realized his hand was still extended. When she shook it, she felt a warm confidence in spite of its cold grip.

"You're still cold!" she explained as she involuntarily clutched his hand with both of hers and then released. "That coffee should warm you up," she said as she grabbed some cutlery and started to walk around the counter to the stools.

"Is there any cream for the..."

"I recommend the coffee as it is." She stated. Then with a laugh she said, "Controlling bitch, aren't I?"

Teresa inadvertently traced her fingers across his shoulders when she walked past him. The touch surprised John. It was as if she was trying to soften her demeanor. She placed a fork and a napkin by his plate and sat beside him. The pie was excellent. The coffee was superb. It was liberally laced with brandy. However, it was her smile and the pleasant conversation that John enjoyed the most. They obliterated the storm until a giant thunderclap shook the restaurant.

"Lord love a fucking duck!" shrieked a startled Teresa as she turned towards the windows. "Jesus, what a storm! Look at the water in the street! Unless your bike can swim, you had better move it pretty damn quick!" It was more of a command than a comment. Teresa hurriedly explained the fiasco of the Main Street re-development as she helped John back into his rain suit. It was the casual touch of her fingers against his cheek and the words "...please be careful..." that helped John keep the big bike upright through the mud and water that was now the roadway. He followed her directions and found himself slithering through a laneway and up an alley to the back of the restaurant. John could see her small, welcoming, silhouette in the light of the kitchen door as he parked the bike beside a Camray that had seen better days.

"Bring your stuff in too," she shouted above the sound of the storm. "I wouldn't even send my fucking ex-husband out on a night like this!" Dumbfounded, John followed her instructions and hauled his bags into the kitchen.

Teresa suggested that he head upstairs to her apartment and get into some dry clothes. John insisted on helping clean up the restaurant before going up stairs. There was a short discussion. It ended in laughter and John tying on an apron. In an hour, they were finished. Teresa was impressed with his quiet efficiency. It was obvious that he had worked in a kitchen. He had quickly mastered the complicated operation of her old dishwasher and he wasn't afraid to scrub the pots and pans piled in the sink.

Teresa secured the doors, closed the blinds, turned off restaurant lights, checked the basement sump pump, and now was standing at her apartment stairway watching John wipe down the counter tops and hang the towels over the edge of the sink. Apprehension and excitement griped her. He turned and caught her glance. "Voila, all done," he said stretching out his arms to show her the tidied kitchen. He took a step forward. The slosh of his boots could be heard over the whirr of the refrigerator. "Jesus, you still have on those wet boots. I'm sorry, I should have offered you..."

John cut her off. "Hey! It's OK. I'm a big boy. You've been more than kind. I'll just slip them off now and leave them by the door to dry."

A short discussion occurred. His boots and socks were soon drying, with the aid of the pilot light, in the oven and John was following Teresa up the stairs to her apartment. As he climbed the stairs, John watched the motion Teresa's jean pockets. Their movements were slow, teasing, and tantalizing. Was she trying to suggest something? Fortunately, his bags prevented his hands from reaching out and touching.

Once within the apartment, she turned on the lights and demanded. "Well what do you think?" John didn't know what to say. She impatiently repeated her question and directed his gaze to the room before them. Her apartment was a surprise. It was a large oak paneled loft. "It was a lawyer's office," her words began to swim around John's ears. The apartment was considerably colder than the hot kitchen. The hardwood floor was cold on his bare feet. His clothes were damp and in the case of his jeans, completely soaked through. He began to shiver and to shake.

He broke into her monologue. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I must get out of these wet clothes. I'm getting really cold. Is there a place where I could change?"

"Oh, John, I'm so sorry, you need to get warm. Follow me" She led him into the bathroom and started to draw him a bath. Put your wet and dirty clothes by the washer and dryer over there. I'll get you something to warm you up." She left closing the bathroom door behind her.

The bath felt great. It soothed his tired body. He was luxuriating in its warmth until a knock at the door and the words "Cover up sexy, I'm coming in," startled him out of his enjoyment. There was no place to hide in the six foot, claw foot tub that sat in the centre of the bathroom floor. Nonchalance was his only protection.

Teresa entered dressed in a white terry robe and carrying two steaming mugs. "Here hold these," she said as she approached the tub. She immediately shed the robe and climbed into the tub. Her casual nakedness excited him but John strived to maintain his relaxed manner and handed her one of the mugs. "They're hot tot ties," she remarked as she knelt between his legs and rested her elbows on her thighs cradling the mug with both hands. Her tiny body was nestled comfortably between his legs in a modestly provocative pose. John leaned back in the tub, his elbows resting on the sides and his calves touching her hips.

John sipped his drink and studied her. She was probably only 5 feet tall and maybe weighed maybe 100 pounds. Her closed cropped gray-blond hair shaped her face and emphasized her brilliant green eyes. She was fit with a taunt stomach and small breasts.

John sipped at the drink and could feel the warm and relaxing effects of the alcohol. Emptying the mug, he placed it on the floor. He lay back in the tub and closed his eyes. Teresa gulped back the remainder of her drink. It seemed to give her courage. She placed the mug in the soap dish and studied the man before her as she started to rub the tops of his thighs with her hands. He was about her age with an athletic build. His face was deeply tanned and accented by a short gray beard. His legs felt strong. She increased the pressure of her touch. He moved slightly to give her greater access. Encouraged she started to rub his stomach and chest.

The feeling created by Teresa's hands as they moved across his body energized and tantalized John. He felt a stirring in his groin. As she leaned forward to rub his chest, the sides of her breasts brushed against his thighs.

Teresa's nipples hardened. She could feel the gentle squeeze of John's thighs. The increased friction on her breasts as she moved to massage his chest excited her. John's hands at that moment traced a path down her back and began to cup and knead her buttocks. Teresa responded to John's touch and repositioned her body. Now she straddled him. Leaning forward and she presented her breasts to his mouth. First one nipple and then another was deeply sucked. Beneath his hands, Teresa's ass mirrored the rhythm the sucking. His squeezed her buttocks. Then with slow tantalizing movements, his fingers investigated her crack and touched her wetness.

John's tongue flicked back and forth across the surface of her nipple. His teeth scraped across its base. Teresa started. Her hips began to writhe. John felt his penis harden, teased by her pubic hair as she moved her pelvis against him. John's fingers traced the outline of her labia, brushed against her hood, and teased her clit. Her breath now came in short gasps. John's fingers penetrated her hot wetness. Teresa began to gyrate and the bath water sloshed. It was not long before the fingers of his other hand found her anus. The warm water and her movements meant that his index finger was soon past her tight anal ring. Teresa's back arched as she cried out."Oh! Oh you bu...Oh! Ohhh!" John's finger now worked wildly in and out against her tightening sphincter. "Oh Jesus! Fuck my ass!" Teresa commanded. John sucked hard on her nipple. His fingers worked feverously in and out of her holes. A series of erotic screams reverberated around the bathroom. Her body convulsed wildly and large amounts of bath water slopped onto the floor.

The storm still raged outside while inside the gas fireplace provided warmth and the candles Teresa had placed around the bedroom alcove produced a cozy glow. The lovers cuddled in bed. Teresa's lips caressed John's ear. Her legs hugged his.

She enjoyed making love to this man. She felt safe as John's hand gently outlined her face. Each time his fingers touched her lips she softly nibbled at his fingertips. She savored the feel of his other hand as it massaged the small of her back and the curve of her buttocks. The massage strokes drew closer her hot dampness. She felt her wetness grow. The excitement in her body increased as she gently ran her fingers over his chest and stomach. Her hand traced large circles. With each sweep, her little finger teased through his public hair. Teresa was pleased that with each touch his member become more rigid and his breathing deeper

Teresa's soft contact at the base of his cock and the caress of her tongue on his fingertips excited John. Her hips moved slightly and his fingers slipped easily into her crack. They first circled her anus and then moved down to rub her labia. Teresa arched her back and presented her breasts to his mouth. John sucked hard on her walnut sized nipples. Teresa sighed and ground her pelvis against his hard cock. His finger found her clit. She shuddered. She grabbed his penis and moaned, "I want your cock inside me. But first we need a little something..." She leaned over and opened the drawer of the bedside table. "I have not used one of these since I booted out my husband. Hope I can still make them work," she laughed and ripped open a package. John continued to rub her clit with his thumbs, as Teresa manipulated the condom. Each was enjoying the touch and the feel of the other. Then Teresa maneuvered his sheathed penis into her vagina and rode him until they both screamed.

Morning found John standing naked at the front window of the apartment staring out at the blue sky and drying street. He sensed, more than heard Teresa's presence. He enjoyed the feel of her breasts as they pushed into his back when her arms circled his body. No words were spoken. They just enjoyed the warmth of each other's body. One of her hands began to stroke his left nipple the other gently began to rub his penis. "When do you have to leave?" she softly whispered recognizing the inevitable.

"Mmmm..." he sighed. He paused enjoying her touch. "I have to be in Seattle for work tomorrow," he declared with a trace of regret. A gentle tug and a push turned him around. Teresa buried her face in his chest and John kissed her hair and hugged her. Teresa fought back the tears as John gently stroked her cheek.

Choking back the emotion that was building in her throat she said in a jesting tone, "I know it's a cliché, but would you like another piece of pie?"

John laughed. "Is the restaurant open?"

"Only to stranded motorcyclists," she quipped as she led him back to the bedroom alcove.