Southern Tide Vol 01

Hi everyone. I've decided to share this story here. I have grown much since I first wrote it and I feel like this story has run its course as far as being held for purchase. This, as well as the second volume might be the last stories I publish here and any other work can be found under my penname SC Edward. STI was previously published under the title "Catherine," so to those of you who have read the first, expect the same story with a little more detail added to it. I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading :).

-Soft1017

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For J.

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Chapter One

Max was barking again. He usually never made such a big commotion, but this was one hell of a storm. It was only noon, but the entire acre of land was shrouded in darkness, as the heavy rain pelted against the damp earth. The large Black Oak and Elm trees which surrounded the lot swayed, and danced to the howling of the wind. Dale could hear the babbling of the muddy water flowing about, and beneath the house. He would be safe, but there would be much to do after the storm.

Images of soaked debris, heavy broken branches, and an overflowing muddy river flooded his mind. He would have to coax his friend Brian into helping him clean up after the storm was over. A loud crack of thunder startled him out of his deep thoughts, and he took a swig of whiskey, before getting up to check on Max. The Golden Labrador Retriever was anxiously pacing back and forth on the porch, and barking for his master. Dale opened the front door and knelt down on the hardwood floor, in hopes of trying to comfort the over-excited dog. Dale's presence usually calmed him, but this time something was very different.

Something unseen was causing Max to act this way. It wasn't Max's first storm. Being with Dale for five years, he had witnessed many landslides and floods, all brought about by freakish weather. Dale looked out into the distance, hoping to find the cause. For the moment nothing looked out of the ordinary, other than that the entire area was unusually dark and flooded. The loud pelting of the rain against the shingles made Dale's skin tingle. Rainfall always had this effect on him. It was a comforting sound, and he listened closely as a sweet sensation washed over his muscular body.

Max was still jumping on top of him, and suddenly, he heard it. A deep gasp and a few gurgling sounds came from the right side of his fenced home. This particular area was about 10 yards away, and covered in tall shrubbery and grass; now almost invisible due to the high tide. The tall, white, wooden fence was broken from what he could see, and a long leg now hung from the structure, caught between the jagged boards. A head still bobbed above the murky water, and struggled to keep afloat.

Dale didn't hesitate. He jumped over the porch, and waded as fast as he could to the scene. He was over 6 feet tall, yet the freezing water almost reached his chest. It was no wonder that Max had tried to get his attention. The little guy would have had a hard time trying to rescue this person on his own.

As Dale got closer, he realized that it was a woman. Her dark hair clung to her face, hiding any distinguishing features. She struggled against the flowing water, and Dale noticed that not only was she caught tightly between the boards, but she was also bleeding from a large gash on her leg. He quickly assessed that she probably tried to climb over the slippery fence, and fell over, trapping herself.

The rain came down harder now, and the freezing drops stung his face as he threw the debris aside. His teeth chattered as the cold penetrated his bones, but nothing would deter him from this rescue mission. He approached with caution, and freed the woman's leg from the jagged and broken planks. Large splinters were caught in the bleeding wound, and he tried his best not to agitate it.

His hands slipped beneath her bottom, and he lifted her above the waters. She was a stocky woman, but he was a strong man, and had no trouble holding her body up. He noticed that her blouse was torn in the back, and over her shoulders. She retained a few light scratches, which now stained her white blouse with bright red. She trembled violently against him, and coughed as the dirty water splashed into her mouth. As he carried her away, he noticed a black knapsack hanging from the sturdier part of the fence, but he would get it later. Her safety was his first priority.

He carried her up to the porch, where Max still paced back and forth, and into the house. She still shook with fright, even in the safety of his arms. He laid her down on one of the couches, and rushed to the closet where he kept the emergency supplies and blankets.

Max stood on guard at her side, while Dale returned with his emergency kit, ready to examine the torn leg. The woman's eyes fluttered as she desperately fought to stay awake. Despite her efforts, she eventually passed out, and Dale wasn't surprised. In fact he was relieved; it would be easier to treat her this way. She was losing a lot of blood from the wound, and there was also a tiny bruise on the side of her cheek; indicating that she had probably hit her head. He was a little worried about undressing her, but the torn jeans had to go.

Dale dropped to his knees, and unzipped the front of the torn pants. The jeans were fitted tightly onto her hips, and now that they were soaked through, he would have an even harder time of peeling them away from her body. Not only that, he was sure that if he attempted to pull them off, he would irritate the injuries even more. Instead, he reached for his shears, and began to carefully cut through the rough fabric. He snipped at the jeans until they were no longer glued to her skin. The large shreds fell away to the floor in thick, heavy clumps.

Her body twitched when he pulled out the first shard with a pair of tweezers, but she remained unconscious. The wounds hadn't been as serious as he anticipated, but nevertheless, they still needed to be stitched up. He quickly got to work, and was thankful that she wasn't awake. It would have been a chore to calm her down, and keep her still. Instinct told him that she might have been uncomfortable at the sight of blood, or torn flesh.

However, he was no stranger to such injuries. Living alone for all these years, in such a secluded place made him very cautious. One had to be prepared for anything in such a remote place. He always had emergency supplies on hand, and also kept a transmitter radio in his basement. He even taught Max how to signal for help on the radio, in case he became immobilized. It crossed his mind to drive the woman to town, but he already knew that all roads would be flooded by now. He would be able to handle this situation easily, and eventually drive her back to town when the roads were clear. It was probably a blessing that the roads were flooded, because she would need the time to recuperate.

Almost an hour passed as he toiled on, and finally her wounds were clean, and neatly dressed. She was breathing deeply now, and seemed comfortable. Her body was a little cold to the touch, so he went to his room to fetch one of his long t-shirts. Both of them would be stuck indoors for a while, and he didn't want her condition to worsen due to the wet clothes. As he approached from the hallway, he finally took a good look at her. He hadn't cared to notice anything about her during the frenzy, but he began to take in the appearance of the only woman he had been in close proximity to in years.

The skin of her thighs was a creamy caramel color. She was beautiful in the golden lamplight, even though dirt, and tiny, dark, chips of driftwood still clung to her body. His mind went back to when he'd freed her from the tight jeans, and he remembered how soft her flesh had been. His eyes traveled upwards, to the cleft between her thighs, which was barely concealed by a pair of white silk panties. Her legs were slightly ajar, and he could see the clean shaven sides of her plump labia from the edges. His cock twitched with life; something he hadn't felt in a very long time. He didn't mean to stare at her for so long, but the sight of her scantily clothed body gave his eyes great pleasure.

He was very amused by this, because he had never held an attraction for black women, or even anyone of this weight for that matter. But things seemed much clearer now. He was simply a man, and she, a woman. She was also a pretty one at that. She looked very young, maybe in her early to mid-twenties. Her wavy hair still clung to the sides of her face, but could not hide the beauty of her slanted eyes, and the shapely dark eyebrows that framed her forehead.

As he studied her mauve lips, he wondered what she looked like when she smiled. Her right arm, which rose and fell with each deep breath, was also folded, and resting beneath the pillars of her heaving breasts. The wet, and now revealing white blouse clung to the large orbs, and he noticed the tiny hard nipples poking out, as if calling out to him from beneath the fabric. He had never seen a black woman naked before. If there was any guarantee that she wouldn't wake up any time soon, he would have liked to lift her shirt, and lick the skin of her breasts; just to see what she tasted like. He wondered if the feel of his tongue against her nipples, would cause her to get wet while she slept.

He so wanted give it a try, but he didn't want to disrespect her. She was probably scared out of her mind from almost drowning out there. He shrugged off his lustful thoughts, and sat down at her feet. Her shoes were missing, and only one foot was covered by a stained white sock. He pulled the damp sock off, and then he crouched over her, and pulled her forward as he lifted the blouse away from her arms and neck. The scratches on her back had clotted, and were no longer bleeding; a good sign. Carefully, yet swiftly, he pulled the dry t-shirt over her head and arms, without giving in to his desire to admire her semi-naked body. He propped a pillow behind her head, and covered her body with the fleece blankets before walking away to the front door.

Now that she was safe, he meant to get the dangling knapsack, which still hung above the rising water. Max followed him to the porch, but Dale made him go back inside to keep watch over the woman. The temperature was dropping fast, and he knew that the water would be even colder than when he last went in. Max would never stand a chance if he followed this time around. Still, he plunged into the waist deep water, and needless to say, the frigid temperature was still a shock to his system. He waded back to the fence where the fierce winds knocked the heavy knapsack against the planks, and quickly grabbed it.

Both freezing and exhausted, he made his way back to the safety of the porch. He entered his living room, and lay the soaked bag down at her feet. Max had propped himself up on the adjacent couch, and his eyes were still fixed on the sleeping woman. Lying there, wrapped in the overlapping blankets and sleeping soundly, she looked rather peaceful. She didn't look like a victim of the storm. Instead she seemed like a friendly visitor, come to keep him company after three years of loneliness and boredom. He hoped that this illusion would come into being.

His admiration was discontinued by a cold chill which ran throughout his body. He let Max know that he would leave them for a little while, and that he should stay with the woman until he returned. The dog barked in accordance and Dale headed for the hallway. He needed a hot shower.

As the hot steam clouded the shower stall, he thought of the day thus far. He had planned to relax, and wait out the storm with Max, but it seemed that he would not be spending his time alone. Of course Max had always been there, and was the best dog that any guy could ask for, but Dale always longed for human companionship. Brian only came over once in a while, leaving Dale alone to fend against boredom. It would probably be a few days before he could drive into town, and he hoped he would be a good host to his stranded visitor.

It was obvious that she came to his house looking for help, and he would do his best to make her comfortable. Hospitality was scarce in these parts, and he could only imagine what it would have been like for her, if she tried asking the other townspeople for assistance. They usually didn't take kindly to strangers, and might have turned her away. She would be left out there to fend for herself, and it wouldn't have ended well. In fact, judging by the rate of the flooding, she might have not even made it this far.

He exited the bathroom, with a towel around his waist and thought to check on her before going to his room. The living room was dimly lit, and Max still lay on the couch, but had fallen asleep. He didn't blame the pooch. The calming effect of the rain, as well as the approaching late hour would have put anyone into a drowsy state; even this vigilant and trustworthy guard dog. The woman lay still, but the grey fleece blankets were overthrown, and now hung loosely off the couch. She had probably kicked them off while she slept, and Dale was once again confronted by the pretty pair of thighs. He wanted to touch her badly, but what kind of person would that make him?

"Ah fuck it!" he quietly said to himself, aware that this sudden sense of bravery was only brought about by the alcohol in his system.

He tip-toed to where she lay, and knelt down beside her. He touched her arm to test her sensitivity. It seemed that she was a heavy sleeper, because his large hand closed over her fingers, but she didn't move. His hand then trailed up her arm slowly, over her shoulders, her collarbone, and finally down to the curve of her breast. None of these movements startled her out of sleep, and so, he went on. All this time, his heart had been pounding furiously in his chest. To touch her body was exciting, yet he was taking a big chance here. He had never done anything like this before, but for the first time in a long time, he felt alive again. Almost like his old self.

His left hand gently lifted the shirt, while the other reached for the plump labia; still barely concealed by the white silk underwear. He realized that the straps of her brassiere had snapped off, and her breasts spilled out of the flexible cups. The brassiere looked uncomfortable, and the underwire had been digging into her ribcage. He felt around for the shears, and cut the center strap which held the cups together, freeing her from the tight harness. The soft orbs fell against her ribcage, and he thought he heard her sigh with relief.

He looked to her face again, but she was still unmoving, and unconscious. He knew that he shouldn't be doing any of this, but this was a very surreal moment. His body seemed to move on its own, despite the warnings of his brain. He just couldn't resist. Gently, he pulled the cream colored cups away, and stroked the sore underside of her breast.

Her tiny, dark nipples stood at attention now, and his mouth watered for them. He bowed his head, and his protruding tongue met with one of the erect buds. His tongue swung back and forth against it, both teasing and comparing the taste of her, to the women who came before. She was just as delicious; even more so. His opposite hand, which now rested below her soft belly, cupped her plump mound, and he squeezed gently through the silk underwear. Her labia were soft and fat, and he stroked the exposed sides, while he flicked at her nipple with his tongue. It rose even higher, as he teased it into further erection. Finally, he clamped his mouth over the nipple, and suckled her. He longed to hear words of encouragement from her lips. It was no fun playing with her while she slept on. His teeth grazed the nipple slightly, and his guest moaned, and shifted beneath him. He suddenly froze in place, and he waited. Nothing happened.

He was quite aware that he was crazy for doing this; maybe insane was the right word. However, he wanted to go on; he had to go on. His thick fingers slipped beneath the silk panties, and carefully separated the warm lips. To his surprise, she was as silky, and as wet as he had hoped. He really was having an effect on her. He would have gone further, but his eyes suddenly fell upon his left hand, which still clutched her breast. The gold band on his ring finger instantly brought back all of the memories that he tried his hardest to suppress.

Dale let go of her, and pulled the t-shirt back down, and over her body. He got up from the floor, covered her with the blankets, and sat down next to the sleeping pooch. His heart was still racing, but he took another large gulp of whiskey to nurse the pain away.

Cat awoke dazed. She didn't know where she was, or what had happened to her. Her body hurt all over, but she also felt something else. Her nipples had grown stiff against the rough fabric of on oversized t-shirt that didn't belong to her, and she was extremely wet.

"What happened to me?" she thought to herself.

She carefully touched the tender bruise on her right temple, and suddenly, everything came back...

Cat planned on visiting her cousin Kiara, who lived out of state, and she rented a car for the long drive. It wasn't her first time making the trip, and she felt confident that she would make it before the storm hit. Unfortunately, the car died for some unknown reason, and she became stranded on the deserted highway. Not a single house was in sight, and she had no phone service.

This simple drive had turned into the beginning of a horror movie. The sun had disappeared behind ominous dark clouds, and before she left the safety of the vehicle, she sat in the driver's seat, hoping that there were no weirdoes lurking around. She had always been a big horror movie fan, but she began to regret watching all those Hitchhiker and Slasher films.

Cat quickly grabbed her knapsack and began to walk, hoping to find a payphone or some sort of landmark where there would be help. She knew the area well enough, and trying to be an optimist, she figured that walking a few miles wouldn't be so bad. If anything, she'd lose a few pounds from the long walk. A few hours went by before she spotted a house in the distance. By then, the wind velocity had picked up, and she was soaked from the rain.

The skies had grown even darker since she'd left the car, and she ran as fast as she could for the house. It was about half a mile away, and almost hidden by many large trees. She would have missed it, if it hadn't been for the bright porch lights. The closer she got to the house, the harder it was becoming to walk. She no longer tread over the road's firm gravel. Rain water and mud now covered the roads, and the earth had grown soggy and slippery beneath her feet. She couldn't count how many times she had almost fallen face down on the mud.

It seemed that the river she always crossed on her trips was overflowing, because the thick mud had quickly turned into a knee-deep sea of murky water. The large home was now akin to a lighthouse in the middle of a dirty ocean, and she waded through it, hoping to find some aid.

She was very close, but a wooden fence now blocked her way. There was no way in hell she was going to walk around the huge lot to find the gate. All she had to do was climb over, and just maybe the owner would be kind enough to help her. She hung her knapsack over one of the planks, and tested the strength of the fence. It seemed sturdy enough to hold her weight, and she began to climb. She made it to the top, with one foot anchoring her body on the other side. She was about to jump over, when the fence suddenly slid down into the mud, and snapped beneath her. She abruptly fell hard on her side, and her leg became lodged between the boards.

Cat was dizzy, but still aware of what was going on. She tried to yank herself free, while keeping her head above the rising water, but a sharp pain coursed through her leg, and traveled upwards to her spine. She couldn't move, and things were starting to look very grim. A dog was barking on the porch of the house, but she doubted that anyone would see her. The water was freezing, and her teeth chattered as she held on to the fence. Tiny twigs and amber colored leaves splashed into her face as the water quickly flowed past. The current was strong enough to carry her away, but she managed to hang on to the heavy wooden planks for support.