The Thunder

The thunder’s sharp peal woke her from her fitful sleep. For a short while she lay in bed watching the interplay of light and shadow created by the intermittent flash of lightning through the frame of the bedroom window. If the children were home, instead of visiting with their grandparents, they would probably be in her room seeking parental comfort from young fears created by the wild weather. Of course, if the children were home she would be sleeping in her heavy, flannel, “mommy” nightgown instead of nude in a concession to the sultry Texas night.

That the children were gone was not the cause of her restlessness. Her husband, a senior lineman with the local power company, was out with the rest of them in the ongoing struggle between the forces of nature and human convenience, working to restore electrical service to those who had lost it to the storm’s wrath.

They had been high school sweethearts and had married shortly after graduation when he had been hired on to the same job he held now. That was twelve years ago. While still very much in love, both of them were aware that their sex life was becoming stale. Long discussions, some in the heat of sexual passion, others in the contemplation of morning coffee, had led them to the local adult video shop in search of ideas to refresh the marital bed. Tonight was to have been movie night, the feature film involving sex between two men and one woman. Surprisingly, they had both found this particular sexual theme to be very arousing. Sometimes after the post movie sex – always very dirty, always very good - they would discuss what had aroused their passions. Hers were easy to explain. What woman would not enjoy attention focused on her by two attractive and well-endowed lovers? Her husband’s reason was more complex. From his lengthy explanation she had gathered that his arousal was a combined validation of his choice in a sexual partner and his desire to make her happy.

Of course, none of that mattered tonight. The freak thunderstorm had rolled in early last night. By 4 a.m., every line crew in the company was busy disentangling tree branches from electric lines, repairing blown transformers, and restoring service to the customers. The crews would continue to work until the storm blew over. Then they would be released, one crew at a time in order of seniority, to drag their tired bodies home in search of rest, and sometimes other more enjoyable diversions.

She wished she could get her mind away from thoughts of movie night. Unable to do so, she slipped from under the sheet covering her body, put on her sheer “movie night” robe, and left the confines of the bedroom for the living room with its wide screen television set, DVD player, and comfortable couch. In the living room she powered up the television and the DVD player, slipping the rented disk from its case to the waiting DVD tray. She pressed the play switch. The movie began.

Of its own volition one of her hands crept to her breast the fingers gently caressing the hard swelling of her nipple through the thin, translucent cloth of her gown. The woman in the movie looked very much like her - same hair, same eyes, same tits, same ass, same carefully tended sex. As it played, each scene in the movie became more daring and erotic. Her hand slid downwards towards the wet heat radiating from her pussy. She fingered the rubbery hardness of her clit. The forefinger of her other hand probed the folds of her lips, sliding in and out, collecting her juices for what was to come.

Two men were onscreen with the woman, their hard, jutting erections contrasting with her smooth softness. One of the men was lying on the couch. His cock, wet with her spit, pointed straight up at the woman. With her back to the man, she placed her tight pink asshole against his cock head and slid slowly downwards, impaling herself on his fuck rod.

As she watched the woman on the screen her finger plunged deeply into her own hungry ass until it was completely buried. A soft moan escaped her lips as her finger fucked in and out of her ass in perfect time with the couple fucking on screen.

The second man approached the woman. Slowing, but never stopping the movement of her hips, the woman onscreen drew him to her, her hand guiding his hardness into her liquid twat. Slowly, then with increasing urgency, he began sliding his cock in and out of her hungry pussy. The man fucking the woman’s ass matched his tempo to that of the man filling her cunt.

Her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps. Her mind reached out and became as one with the woman on the screen. The moans wrenched from her soul by the simultaneous ecstasy of her finger in her asshole and the rubbing of her clit were inseparable from the sounds coming from the television speakers. She arched her back and shuddered, a living duplicate of the woman in the movie.

She paused the movie, the magically frozen cum-spattered face and body on the screen identical to her own. Her muscles relaxed, spent from their sensual efforts. Her mind slowly drifted off into the sleep of the temporarily, but incompletely, satisfied.

A soft “snick” as the back door opened woke her. Her husband was home. Good. She needed to be filled by something other than her fingers.

Standing to walk to the kitchen, she closed her gauzy robe with hands still scented with the musk of her night’s passion. Her husband would be tired after his battle with the forces of nature. He would need persuading. On second thought, she let her robe fall open, revealing that which was hers and hers alone to give. The crimson flush of an aroused woman on her face and breasts, she entered the kitchen.

Her husband stood at the counter, his familiar build sagging slightly from exhaustion as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Eyes sparkling with lustful glee, she crept up unseen and brought her naked front against his well-worn work shirt. As her hardening nipples pressed insistently into the firm muscles of his back, her hand snaked around his waist to the front of his jeans gently, yet firmly, grasping that which she needed more than anything else.

The full coffee pot shattered when it hit the counter, spilling its freshly brewed contents over the work shirt and jeans of the man standing at the counter. He whirled, both in surprise at the unexpected intrusion into his most private space and in reaction to the hot coffee soaking his shirt and pants. The man wore the uniform shirt of a utility lineman, but he was not her husband.

The light pink flush of desire was instantly replaced with the crimson blush of embarrassment. “Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God,” she stammered, her eyes fixed on those of a total stranger, his face contorted by the pain of the burning coffee. Her maternal instincts quickly over-rode her embarrassment. Grabbing a towel from the sink, she began frantically removing the coffee from his clothes. The towel went from his chest to his stomach and began mopping his groin.

The kitchen door slammed open as her husband entered, drawn by the sound of smashing glass, her panicked utterances, and the yells of the man at the counter. Striding forcefully across the kitchen, he grasped her and pulled her close to him. She buried he face in his familiar chest, sobs of fear and embarrassment beginning to wrack her body. The now soaked towel dropped to the floor unnoticed.

As her shaking slowly began to subside, her husband tilted her head back with one hand. Wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, he gently kissed her and asked her if she was okay. Accepting her quick, tight-lipped nod as a “yes” he turned to the man at the counter and asked the same question. At the affirmative response, he suggested that they go to the living room to rest and recover from their mutual shock.

Her husband and the other man sat on opposite ends of the couch. She had been told his name, but her still spinning mind simply could not remember what it was. She sat curled on her husband’s lap holding her robe tightly closed, her head once again buried in her husbands chest. An awkward silence filled the room. As she raised her head to survey the silent room, she noticed that both men were starring at the cum-splattered body of the woman in the movie frozen by the pause button last night.

“Is this what you were watching last night?” her husband asked. Her ears detected a slight deepening of his voice. “Yes,” she replied, “last night was movie night, and I needed to watch it.”

“Did it help?” her husband teased. “A little,” she answered, “but I didn’t get what I really needed. I was hoping to get that when I went into the kitchen.” She shot a sidewise glance at the man on the end of the couch. He sat unmoving, frozen in a state of embarrassed semi-arousal. Through the thin material of her robe and the thicker material of her husband’s jeans, she felt the stirrings of the only cock she had ever known.

Without warning, her husband pulled her lips to his. First gently, then more insistently, his tongue began to probe her mouth. His hands began to roam her body, tracing her curves with the assurance born of long intimacy. His mouth broke contact with hers and she followed his gaze to the man on the other end of the couch. His arousal was obvious as his prick strained against the front of his tight jeans. By its outline she could tell that he was about the same size as the actors in last night’s movie. Her gaze was returned by the lust glazed eyes of the man on the couch. She knew that both he and her husband wanted what she had to offer.

Pulling her legs from her husband’s lap she stood and faced the man on the couch. Her robe slipped from her shoulders and floated to the floor. Naked and unashamed, driven by a need she could not have imagined yesterday, she walked to the end of the couch. Leaning over, she placed one of her breasts with its now diamond hard nipple in front of the fevered gaze of the man on the couch. Grasping the back of his neck, she drew his mouth to her breast. Instinctively, his tongue flicked out sending electric ripples of pleasure throughout her body. Slowly, she leaned back. He followed, his body rising from its seat in order to keep her breast at his mouth. As his hands cradled the small of her back she began insistently tugging, pulling at the shirt trapped in the waistband of his jeans. He straightened and allowed her hands to perform their task. Undoing the buttons one by one she revealed his chest and stomach, both well muscled from years of physical labor. She could feel the presence of her husband now standing behind her, his hands moving to caress her lower back.

As the man in front of her shrugged off the shirt, she worked her fingers into the front of his jeans. Her hands drifted to the button fly. Faster and faster she undid the buttons. Hooking her fingers over the waist of his jeans and underwear, she pulled them down. His throbbing cock sprang free from the confines of his underwear and bobbed in front of her face. She could feel the hands of her husband moving from her lower back to her ass. Leaning forward she spread her legs to give his probing fingers access to her aching clit, her pussy, her ass, her everything. She was a woman possessed, the beat of her pulse matching the fire in her loins.

Her hungry mouth engulfed the first strange cock she had seen since losing her virginity. She devoured it. Her tongue ran over and around the purple head and down along the shaft to its base. Her lips caressed the cum-laden balls. His prick needed to be slick for what she had in mind.

With unerring instinct her husband’s fingers massaged her clit increasing the burning wetness of her cunt. He slipped two of his fingers into her dripping gash and began to fuck her with his hand. Slightly shifting her hips she pulled her pussy away from his probing hand and rested her puckered pink asshole against their wet, slick tips of his fingers. Rocking her hips back, she forced an opening for her husband’s fingers. His other hand moved to replace them on her clit. Her mind spun as she came for the first time that morning

Her spasms of pleasure pulled her mouth from the cock of the man on the couch. Pre-cum drooled from the slit of his prick. Leaning forward she put her weight against him and pushed him back onto the couch. She positioned him so that one of his legs remained on the floor while the couch supported the rest of his body. His cock jutted into the air, slick with the mixture of spit and pre-cum.

Pulling his fingers from her ass, she spun to face her husband. All control was lost in her frenzied desire for his cock. She ripped his shirt open. Buttons bounced across the carpet. She yanked down her husband’s pants. His cock was harder than she had ever seen it before. It stood straight out, angry veins pulsing with his lust.

Still facing her husband, she slid backwards until the smooth softness of her ass cheeks could feel the throbbing erection of the man on the couch. Putting one foot on the couch and the other on the floor, she helped him press his purple cock head against her hungry asshole. With a moan she pushed backwards. The man on the couch thrust forwards. His cock slid into her ass as her husband again fingered her clit. Her world exploded into stars. The moan ripped from deep within her informed the room that she had come for a second time.

Still burning, still insane with heat, she bucked harder and harder against the man on the couch. The rhythmic slapping of his balls against her ass punctuated her attempts to pull him entirely inside of her. She began to slow her pace. She needed more. She needed another cock.

Leaning back against the man on the couch, she grasped the inside of her knees with her hands and spread her legs as far apart as she could without losing the prick in her ass. Her juices slicked from her as her husband stepped forward and thrust his familiar cock into her cunt.

Her eyes rolled back into her head as she felt both cocks rubbing against each other through the skin separating her cunt from her ass. Her world was nothing but two cocks rubbing together inside of her. She could feel the tightening of his cock, then hot jets as the man on the couch shot cum into her ass. Almost simultaneously, her husband groaned, shuddered, and shot his load.

The world exploded. Her shriek echoed off the living room walls. She had come again. Her pace slowed. Then stopped. She could feel the cocks softening - first, the one in her ass, now the one in her cunt. Slowly they withdrew. Cum began to slowly leak out of her, staining the fabric of the couch. Spent, she closed her eyes.

She felt herself lifted into the air. Strong arms clasped her close in a gentle but unbreakable embrace. As she drifted into the sexual afterglow, she felt herself gently laid into the bed she had risen from six hours before. Loving hands pulled the sheet up to cover her chin. She sensed rather than saw her husband close the curtains against the morning sunlight breaking through the formerly angry skies. A kiss and a promise to return after cleaning the broken glass and spilt coffee were with her as she drifted off to a perfect sleep.

Any feedback is appreciated.