Thunderstorms can be so sensual... raw power and boundless energy. Tonight was no different as a powerful one moved into the area and I sat on the front porch watching it roll in. Watching the sky turn from blue to gray to black... the smell of rain and the flash of lightning in the distance... curled up on the front porch with a soothing drink, readying myself for the storm to come, is one of the most relaxing and soothing things I like to do. But as the rain starts to come and the wind picks up, I know it's time to go inside as the rain is moving underneath the porch with the force of the wind.
Putting my glass into dishwasher, frowning a bit as the lights flicker and the wind picks up. It's going to be one of those nights... The rattle of shutters at the windows and then the tell-tale sign of the satellite signal breaking up on the T.V. brings my feet into motion, moving to unplug things in case the lightening comes too close, unwilling to loose my brand-new stereo system to the raging storm outside. Moving to the window, I can see out as the wind is flapping the edges of my step-son's trampoline cover and then suddenly a sharp clap of lightening broke the silence of my self-induced trance. Nearly jumping out of my skin, I had to laugh a bit, telling myself to stay calm that it was just part of what I naturally loved.
Still shaking my head at my unusual jumpiness, I grabbed a nearby book that I had just started and settled into the comfortable crook in my couch, pillows just so and began to flip to the page where I had last left off. Being single again after 13 years takes some getting used to and nights like this made me miss the comfort of someone else around. Just as I began to read, the lights gave way to the electrical storm, bringing a soft curse from my lips as I slammed the book shut. So much for reading... all is dark in my world except for the occasional flash of light from the storm outdoors.
Rising slowly, careful not to knock my shin on the coffee table, fumbles around for the fire place lighter while visualizing where all my candles are placed throughout the large living room. As slender fingers curl around the automatic lighter, a soft sigh of relief slips from my lips as I flicker it on and begin to kiss each one with the dancing flame. Before long the room begins to glow with the soft hue of subtle light, even as the storm rages on. Just as I flick the lighter off and replace it in its drawer, a loud knock at the front door startles me momentarily, wondering who that could be out in this kind of weather.
Crossing the distance to the door, lightening strikes once more as the door swings open, almost forcibly beneath the wind that comes howling in, and the silhouette of a massive man almost hidden in the shadows of the doorframe is suddenly there. A soft gasp is bitten back even as his deep voice fills the room, "Trouble with your electricity, I see." All I can manage, for some odd reason, is a slight nod as I drink in his form, surprised at the sudden lack of a voice as I take him in. And before I can react or say anything in response, he is moving past me, through the open doorway and into the warmth of my home.
Where my mind screams that a stranger has just entered my safe place, there's something that keeps me from saying anything, as if I am held captive beneath his very presence and the stirrings of something dormant, starting between my thighs and tingling throughout, beginning to grow as I watch him remove his coat and hat to hang them on one of the many pegs beside the door. A sharp pain to the side of my cheek quickly brings me back to reality; a cry of surprise heard as he cuffs me unexpectedly, sending me flying across the floor to slide to a short stop. My eyes widen, glancing up as I scoot back the short distance to the door, my hand coming up quickly to cover the heat from his abuse. The taste of fear mixed with an alarming amount of desire quickly fills me, morphing to frenzied panic as he begins to remove his wet clothes, his intent beginning to appear.
Frightened, yet still rational, I know that this is my time to run but it is as if I am rooted to the floor, watching in horror as he peels away wet clothes to reveal a perfectly sculpted body, accentuated by a rock hard cock that stands in blatant triumph as he faces me. "Feed slut," he commands, as if this is a daily ritual in which we participate. I can feel the blush growing at my hesitancy to scream and run or even, being the strong individual I am, to defend myself. Instead, I find my gaze centered to that thick, long steel rod commanding me closer just by his stance. Just looking at it fuels a fire in my belly and the beginnings of delirious need pooling between my thighs. "Don't make me repeat myself, bitch," I heard him growl.
A soft whimper escapes my lips in fear even as something within me responds to him strongly, in shock as my body, as if on its own accord, moves across the floor to him on hands and knees. And before I can think, I am at his feet in an open kneel, taking his full length into my mouth as if I had done this hundreds of times before. The sting of unshed tears grow strong in my gaze as I feel his strong fingers entwine in the fiery curls that spill around my shoulders, his hand forcing my lips farther down his length and with a groan, I can feel him throb and pulse against my tongue. My mind spins even as my mouth feeds, wanting to cry out for help, holding back the gag as his cock slams into the back of my throat but something within me revels in this overwhelming power that he suddenly has over me. I can feel his balls slap against my chin as he pushes again and again into the recesses of my throat, his fingers splayed against the back of my head, fucking it like he was between my legs.
I find myself falling into a familiar place... that place that only my imagination has ever allowed me to go in my deepest and darkest fantasies and I eagerly take him in, long withheld lust beginning to pulse through my veins. I can feel warmth and wetness beginning between my thighs, pushing aside the shock that I know I should be feeling but can't seem to conger up within me. It is as if I can't get enough of this delicious pulsing rod that spears into the back of my throat again and again. A sharp yank on my hair sends me spiraling back into reality as he slips his swollen cock from my mouth, an involuntary whimper escaping as if pleading for him to let me have some more. But as he lifts me forcibly up by auburn curls and sends me sprawling back onto the couch roughly, the fear wells up within me once again, a look of horror and shock crossing stricken features as both fear of not knowing what is coming next intermingled with eager anticipation of the same. My eyes close reflexively as if blocking out a nightmare, the silence only punctuated by the crash of thunder, sending my eyes flying open only to notice that the candlelight looks different. It's almost as if the light has changed just to keep his features hidden from my view, his silhouetted again the only thing I can make out as he crosses the distance between us.
