The booming sound of thunder woke me. I could hear the violent storm right outside the window. My eye opened just barely enough to register the glowing numbers from the bedside alarm clock. 5:03AM was way too early to be getting up.
I didn’t know if I wanted to check my phone. I didn’t think I needed to. The storm was the same, the time was the same, therefore the day was the same…Tuesday. It had been roughly forty Tuesdays since this whole thing began. So…forty(ish) Tuesdays. That was a guess, since I didn’t even try to keep track at the beginning. I really didn’t know the exact number, nor did it matter. Every morning when I woke up it was the same Tuesday. The same storm was what woke me every time, always at the same time, 5:03AM. Everything that followed could vary, from what time I actually got up, to where I went and what I did, but it was consistent that every day at 5:03AM, I would wake to start it all again. I had stayed in bed to wait out the day. I had gone home to see if a change of venue could change the outcome. I had gone other places just because I could, like the coffee shop, the library, and the YMCA for a swim in the indoor pool.
When this whole thing started I had taken advantage of the situation to turn it into a carnal cornucopia. The FWB I woke up with every morning, Gabriela, had been my initial focus until I met her neighbor Patty. I then had multiple encounters with each of them, although they didn’t know it. To them it was Tuesday, and the day before had been Monday, and tomorrow was going to be Wednesday. To me it was Tuesday, the day before had been Tuesday, and tomorrow would most likely be Tuesday. I still enjoyed my time with them when I wanted, but I had slowed down on the sexual marathon I had been on and took to exploring a little more of the world around me.
I had even gone over to help my sister out at my mother’s house. That was an experience all on its own. It was definitely eye opening, as well as a little disturbing, but my cock always responded when my thoughts turned to that particular Tuesday. I had not worked up the courage to go back there…yet. I knew I would eventually, but it hadn’t happened yet. I drifted off to sleep thinking about what had been and what could be.
I opened my eyes again and looked over at the clock. It read 6:36AM. I felt Gabriela’s soft hand moved across my chest before snaking its way downward, finally settling on my groin.
Even if I had slowed down on the sexual circus, I still enjoyed this part of the morning almost every morning. I had played this out in so many ways, mostly similar, but all memorable. I had skipped a couple here and there, but always returned to stay and play a little.
Her hand lazily stroked my hardness, not seeming to be in a hurry, but also not seeming to want to leave me to go back to sleep. Sighs and soft moans escaped me as her hand became a little more insistent. The previously slow stroking had morphed into a deliberate handjob, with the grip tightening and the pace increasing. The covers beside me were scrunched downward and in the darkness I could make out her form as she rolled towards me. She laid her head on my chest for a minute before trailing down to join her hand. Her long hair trailed behind as she moved south. I felt her tongue make contact with the underside of my awakened tool. She licked upwards to the tip as her hand moved to massage my balls.
Some pleasurable minutes later and she was laying on her back next to me, breathing heavily with her hair a mess as she rolled to her side to drape herself half over my chest. I had skipped my own finish in favor of concentrating on hers. She seemed very appreciative. She fell back to sleep in no time, while I remained awake. I usually slept alongside her, but by the time I would wake up again Gabriela would already be preparing for work. No matter how I tried to convince her otherwise, the one constant was that Gabriela always, always, always went to work.
Once she was asleep I carefully extricated myself from underneath her and crawled out of bed, making sure not to disturb her. My clothes still smelled faintly of the club that Gabriela and I had gone to on Monday night, now seemingly so long ago that it was a distant memory. Gathering my things, I went out her front door, making sure it was locked on my way out.
It was still dark out as I swung my leg over the seat of my Harley. I could see the beginnings of daylight, so I sped home to shower and change clothes. I had a different plan in mind for my day today. I got back on my Harley and took the quickest way out of the city and rode some quiet country roads. I decided I needed to do this more often. I loved to ride, had no place I needed to be, and apparently had all the time in the world.
I was only gone for a couple of hours before I noticed more storm clouds in the distance. Once the storm had blown by first thing in the morning it wouldn’t rain the rest of the day, at least not in the city. But I wasn’t in the city and I absolutely hated riding in the rain, so I turned towards home. Apparently the clouds were a lot closer than I thought and it started sprinkling before I had gone ten miles. I had two choices, make a run for home and see how wet I got, or hole up somewhere and wait for the rain to pass.
I decided to head for home. The moment I had made my decision and rolled on the throttle a little more, the rain really started in earnest. I was soaked in no time. It was cool out when I had started so I had my hoodie on, but once that was soaked I was cold, wet, and miserable. I could feel trickles of water slide down my chest and down my back under my shirt. Riding through an unexpectedly deep puddle on the road left my feet squishing in my boots. Clearly I had made the wrong choice. I was still on country roads and was miles from anything resembling civilization. As the storm got worse, it started raining so hard that I couldn't even really see the road in front of me. Since I ride without a helmet I was being blinded by all the rain, and the raindrops felt like hail against my head as I carefully made my way through the unfamiliar territory. I finally took refuge under the canopy of an out of business gas station in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't much protection though, as the wind was blowing the rain sideways. I sat huddled on my parked Harley, waiting for the storm to pass. A horn blasted behind me, making me jump. I turned around to see an old, worn out pickup truck on the other side of the gas pumps. The window rolled down as I approached. There was an older woman behind the wheel who was looking at me with concern.
“Are you okay dear?” she said loudly over the noise of the storm.
“Yeah, I'm good. I'm just waiting for the rain to die down.”
“You'll catch your death out here in those wet clothes. Hop inside young man. I can get you some dry clothes and hot soup.”
“Really, I'm fine ma'am. I wouldn't want to impose and I don't want to leave my bike out here.”
“Just park it behind the store. Hardly anyone comes out this way except the locals. I'd feel really bad if you froze to death out here. Come on now, I insist.” she said as the rain picked up even more.
It seemed like she had no intention of taking ’no’ for an answer. I made the only obvious decision and wheeled my bike to the back side of the gas station's empty tiny convenience store. I went back around to the front to where she was parked and opened the passenger door, hopping into the blessedly dry and warm interior.
“My home isn't far, so we'll get you dry again in a jiffy.”
I scrutinized the woman out of the corner of my eye as she drove. She was an attractive older lady that looked around 60 years, but talked like someone somewhat older. She kind of reminded me of a hot version of my grandmother. Her wavy, shoulder length silver hair was stylish, not a short perm like old women regularly liked. She had deep laugh lines on her face but had piercing, sharp blue eyes. She drove through the rain with confidence borne of experience. After a short drive we pulled off the road and down a long gravel driveway. Soon she was hurrying me into her small but comfortable house.
“Go in the bathroom right there and take off those wet clothes.” she pointed to a door at the end of a short hallway. “I'll find something for you to put on while I throw your clothes in the dryer.”
I stood there for a second, about to protest. She saw my hesitation and squashed that in an instant with her no nonsense attitude.
“Don't even think about arguing with me. I'm not going to have you die in my house from pneumonia because you're being stubborn. Now get out of those wet clothes and don't make me say it again sweetie.”
She hustled me into the bathroom and waited outside the door for me to pass my drenched garments out to her. I sat on the edge of her tub shivering when she knocked on the door. I opened it just enough for her to pass in a robe for me to put on. It was kinda short, fluffy, and pink. It was not exactly my style. I came out of the bathroom and my hostess laughed slightly when she saw me.
“I'm sorry dear, but that's about all I have that would fit you. You remind me a little of my husband Ronald. I thought I still had some of his clothes but after he passed away ten years ago I guess at some point I must have donated all of his clothing to Goodwill.”
She saw me shivering even harder although the room was warm. A look of concern crossed her face as she hustled me to a different room. She led me into her bedroom and pulled back the covers for me to lay down.
