Clouds and Rain - an Asian Thing

WicKed's Intervention Commences

An Asian-American Seeks Her First Sexual Experience

Approximately 9,100 Words

by

Donald Mallord

Copyright by dmallord, 2022, USA. All rights reserved.

INTRODUCTION

Life goes awry sometimes. When it does you call your friends. You know? Like, 'You hope to get by...with a little help from your friends.' That's true, if the help you need is for a small thing. Not the sort of help you need when waking up at two o'clock in the morning with 'your cock in your daughter.' That's not a small thing. The situation, I mean, not the cock size. For that kind of help you call in the big gun; no pun intended. I was at my wit's end. Katrina, my daughter, and I had just lost my wife to a long-struggling battle with cancer. It relished gnawing at her and showed no mercy, right up to the end--the beast must have sucked out the last of her marrow then; because it let her slip away in the late hours of the night.

I had no idea how to deal with the pact my daughter had made with my wife. The one where my wife turned over her conjugal rights to our daughter. Worse, Katrina made it a 'promise' to my wife to perform them. And, God forbid, if you ever got that kind of promise from Katrina, come hell or high water; she was going to make it happen. Katrina would rather die than break a promise. I called Dr. Marie Johnson; renowned psychiatrist extraordinaire for help to deal with that incest situation. She's more than just a friend. Marie and my wife, Katelyn, had been teenage lovers. Eventually I married Katelyn and Katrina was born a year later. Marie, chose to follow her grandmother's medical pursuits and diverged paths as Kate and I moved into the parenting roles.

Didn't I say this was complicated?

Well, how about throwing in another woman into the mix? One Asian-American teenager to make life more complicated. One would think I had bad karma dogging me. I'll let you be the judge of that; as I found myself hunkered down amidst a storm...literally and figuratively.

__________

Homeward Bound -- Alone

Leaving Kitten in Marie's experienced hands, around two o'clock in the afternoon, I headed north. Alone for the first time in nineteen years, I was homeward bound to an empty house. The feelings of anxiety separation weighed heavily upon my mind. If it wasn't bad enough dealing with Katelyn's passing, added to it was my daughter's surprising assumption of Katelyn's conjugal responsibilities. Kitten sprang that surprise alliance upon me in deep REM sleep on her eighteenth birthday. I had dreamed Katelyn was in my arms calling out to be fucked harder--it was Kitten's ruse to lose her virginity. What followed was both chaotic and cathartic. I saw a psychiatrist over the guilt it inflicted, and more guilt that followed as I continued to enjoy congress with Kitten to assuage her feelings for honoring her promise to her mother. What a head spinning situation!

The pretext for the road trip south was for Kitten to meet Marie. Kitten had been curious after learning that Marie, Katelyn, and I were romantically involved before she was born. Her sexual curiosity had just exploded taking on her mom's role and she wanted to know more.

It was a spur of the moment, hastily hatched, plan to separate myself from Kitten. Marie said it would be an exacerbating plan, but reluctantly agreed to help with the separation. It would a least keep the two of us sexually distanced for the time being, so that she could apply her psychiatric skill sets to help unravel this tangled mess. I stood on Marie's porch with Kitten, and lied to her face about suddenly needing to meet the IRS and review my client's income tax audit back home.

"Kitten, stay with Marie for a few days," I told her. "This will give the two of you time to get to know one another. I'll be back in a couple of days. It'll give you a chance to explore, go riding, and swim down at the lake. It's beautiful there."

Kitten and her mother could always see through me -- I never had a poker face -- and so I just always told the truth, regardless of how the outcome affected us. If she had made one more demand to come with me -- I would have caved, but she sucked it up. I believe she knew, in her heart, that my lie must have some good ulterior motive; or she certainly would not have accepted it. At least that's what I wanted to believe. Katrina was smart and intuitive; she could always think further down the road than I could. She may have acceded to my lie for her own reasons, perhaps.

My thoughts turned to the previous day when we arrived, and Marie's experienced hands. Images played out before my eyes as I drove. They were images of that evening and how she had once again managed to edge me to new heights, with Kitten, in the loft the night before I left. Kitten told us of her revelation that 'not all fucks push you over the top.' Then requested that I finish what John Deere was unable to do. I had little choice but to fulfill her need; how do you turn down that opportunity with two ladies rubbing their hands over your one-eyed snake? Marie's cajoling me to take a look in the barn loft for old times' sake didn't help the situation either. It led us down memory lane where Marie first fulfilled my oral sex fantasies. From there, the next hour was nothing short of a 'pornorgy' episode; all of it focused on Kitten.

Marie and I, being ever so attentive, drove Ms WicKed to a frenzy of back-to-back, over-the-hill orgasms; until the frustrations she felt with Jack Fletcher's inept sex, vanished. [Kitten nicknamed Jack -- John Deere -- because of his tractor hat.] Darkness fell; before Kitten finally cried that she had enough. It was so dark by then, that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. We had to grope our way across the bales of straw to find the loft's ladder and strolled by starlight, naked, back to the house -- our clothes were lost somewhere among the straw-strewn lust-nest we built.

__________

A Promise Kept

As I drove away from Marie's farmstead, those thoughts of my cock buried inside Kitten in the loft and later that night inside of Marie, played out in my head. After Kitten fell asleep, Marie and I rekindled some of our college memories and satisfied those into the early morning hours. Richard's restless head stirred as I thought of those, as I drove. He was trying to find a way up and out of my pants. Unfortunately for Richard, I could see a sign of civilization coming up between the cornfields and decided to leave him in the 'barn' as other thoughts crept into mind. I wasn't going to repeat Kitten's crazed-lusty need, having to pull over into the cornfields and fuck; nor do that to wank Richard as well.

I stopped at the four-way crossing; peering across the road at the diner where curly-redheaded Jack Fletcher was given the chance to ogle Kitten's bare peach as he lay on the floor looking up her skirt. I just sat idling at the stop sign; vacillating between driving straight back to the city or pulling into the diner and looking for Fletcher. Fuck it! I decided on crossing the highway. I pulled into the diner, hoping to see him again. Just why I wasn't sure, but something about Katrina's relating the sexual experiences between them, at the walnut grove, was nagging me.

When I walked into the empty diner Jack wasn't there. But his curly-redheaded mother was. She stopped wiping tables and looked up; staring at me as I entered.

"Your WicKed's father, aren't you?" she asked, taking a closer look at me, as I approached her. Something in her tone and her calling Kitten 'WicKed' raised my guard. Kitten had suggested to Jack that getting into his mother's pussy could happen if he followed her instructions. She proffered that idea two days ago. Time enough, possibly for Jack to have acted on that suggestion. This could really get prissy with Jack's mama, if he followed through with Kitten's unfiltered sexual advice.

"Yes. I am," I answered, as guardedly as possible, without knowing what was coming.

"Then I guess, I've you and your daughter to thank for what she told him to do," she replied, with some gentleness in her voice.

"You take a message to her for me, mister? Tell her, thank you, from Jack and me, please," Mrs. Fletcher said, as she looked into my eyes. Then she added, "I suppose you're also doing WicKed, yes?"

Returning behind the counter, she hadn't waited for my response, not really expecting an answer from me. She already knew the answer, from the guilty, uncomfortable look on my face. She began making a strawberry shake, while I stood staring across the counter. We were reading one another's expressions. She talked about how she was going to have to be careful around her husband with Jack. I knew then that whatever Kitten had said and done to Jack Fletcher, had changed the isolated world in which he and his mother lived, forever. With a soft smile, she touched my arm and handed the shake to me, without my asking.

"No charge, Mr. WicKed. Your daughter gave me more than enough already; to last me for a lifetime."

As it turned out, I didn't have to speak with Jack after all. I had my answer from Mrs. Fletcher's softly spoken words--and a strawberry milkshake at no charge. Kitten made good on her promise to Jack. I nodded to Mrs. Fletcher and walked back to the car, getting back on the road to home.

Kitten had made good on her promise to 'John Deere.' Now, I was comfortable and at peace with Kitten's encounter with Jack. That unease I felt, stopped at the four-way sign, could be erased from one of those mental challenges I was battling. I hadn't had the courage, though, to ask Mrs. Fletcher about Kitten's advice to Jack, regarding sex with her daughter. WicKed had also given Jack advice on how to get his sister in the barn loft for a 'roll in the hay.' Perhaps, I'd get up the courage to ask about that on the return trip to pick up Kitten next week. Maybe, since the best things come in threes, perhaps Jack, the farmer's son, was plowing his mother and his sister!

__________

An Overnight Guest Arrives

The drive home seemed doubly long without Kitten's company. The further I drove, the darker it became. Not just because of evening approaching, but the weather was rapidly changing, as ominous dark clouds were racing across the sky.

By the time I turned into our driveway, the heavens had opened up and steady rains were falling. I was glad that I'd gotten inside and out of the heaviest of the weather. I stood watching the night sky through the front windows. It was strange to be in an empty house, void of companionship. Purposefully, I left the squawk of the television and radio off. I needed the time to think. The emptiness provided the focus time. Doctor Zimmerman, another psychiatrist I had seen for myself, had cautioned about spending too much time in solitary introspections, however. It wasn't good for someone, in our scenario, to spend it alone; he had said. Kat would be okay, I knew. Marie would be watching over her; after all, she'd gone through this many times, I suspected, as a psychiatrist. At least with her grandma and her parents when they passed on. Probably some patients in her practice as well, I surmised.

A bright flash and an immediate roar of thunder, rattled the house. In that brilliant flash, I barely caught sight of a singular figure, tightly clutching a flashlight, trudging across our soddened yard. Who could possibly be that crazy to be out walking in this storm? It didn't really matter, I figured, the direction was directly toward our front door. I opened it before the knock. It had to be a neighbor or someone with car trouble. It wasn't neighborly to leave them out in the inclement weather; no matter if it was a stranger.

Startled, I looked up to find Jackie, our closest neighbor's daughter, soaked and well winded. She graduated with Kitten's high school class. She and Kitten spent a great deal of time together -- lots of girl stuff shared, I guess. Breathlessly, she scooted into the foyer, a sponge couldn't have held more water than those long locks of dark hair.

"Saw your light still on in the garage, Mr. Schumacher! Hope you don't mind me getting out of the rain for a few minutes?" She gasped out her words.

"Jackie, you look like a drowned rat! Where's your umbrella?" I chuckled observing the water dripping down those soft Asian-American features. Her long, black hair hung down over her shoulders to the small of her back; just short of her cute butt.

"The wind just... took my umbrella, Mr. Schumacher! I thought it was going to take me too!"

'Shy Jackie,' Katelyn nicknamed her. She wasn't talkative around adults and was always super polite; nearly to the point of being annoying. She and Kat were polar opposites, yet as different as they were, they seemed to always be joined at the hip. Jackie is a wonderful blend of Asian-American features having a perpetual-suntanned skin color and large, dark-cocoa eyes. Her father, an Army service veteran, had met her diminutive mother as a refugee from a war-torn Asian country. You could easily detect many of her mother's features in Jackie, and once you heard her speak, you saw where the politeness and shyness stemmed from.

"What in the world are you doing out at night, by yourself, and in this rain?" I asked, "Your parents are going to get all over you like stink on--"

"Shit! Yeah, they would, if they were home, Mr. Schumacher. But they left Wednesday for their twenty-fifth anniversary river cruise on the Mississippi, going down to New Orleans for a week," she answered.

"So... you're the home-alone-kid?" I laughed at the thought of that old movie and the mayhem it inspired. Jackie could surely be a role player in that situation given her past escapades.

"Yea! That's me. Home-alone-kid... for a whole week,"

she replied, somewhat less enthusiastically than before. I suddenly realized, from past stay-overs with Kitten, that she was a bit more skittish about being alone if her parents were away. She would often cajole Kitten into letting her come over and spend the night to keep her company, on those occasions.

"Well, if you're looking for Katrina, you're out of luck!"

Her eyes widened. She seemed at a loss for words, standing there in a puddle like a goldfish with its mouth opening and closing, trying to talk. Clearly, she'd come looking for Kitten's companionship to overcome the fears of being alone for the week. Poor child, I thought to myself.

I closed the door, shooing her further inside, out of the entryway. 'No since in letting more rain in,' I murmured.

"Jackie, Katrina isn't here. I dropped her off to spend some time with my cousin out in the country. She won't be back until next weekend," I added, by way of explanation for Kitten's absence. The whole episode of why I left Kitten there wasn't something I wanted to explain. I could see disappointment in Jackie's face and sensed her anxiety rising, as she shifted her weight from side to side. Her movements reminded me of a little child's 'I gotta pee dance!' as they try to make it to the bathroom.

"Oh! Oh. I'm, so... okay, that's okay, Mr. Schumacher," she had trouble formulating her response, and was stumbling over her reply. I realized her tripping over her words was due to a sense of angst. It was in her voice, at finding out Katrina, her oasis in crisis, was out of pocket for the entire week.

"Could I just stay here for a bit -- just until the storm slacks up, 'til I can get back home again and out of the rain, Mr. Schumacher?"

I chuckled at the timidity expressed in her question. "Of course, Jackie," I answered, "are you hungry, I was going to make something quick and easy -- my specialty -- burgers and fries. Care to join me?"

"Caveman food! God, yes, Mr. Schumacher!" she practically yelled, "I've been eating ramen noodles and sandwiches since Mom and Dad left. I keep forgetting to prepare something before I get so hungry and just gobble up a sandwich instead. You can only eat so many PB&J sandwiches before you start gagging on them, you know!"

Her clothing had left a trail of water across the floor, from the door, to the spot where she stood. A pool was forming beneath her, as her clothing rained down upon the floor and around her bare feet. She had kicked off her sneakers at the doorway. Beads of water still clung to the long strands of her straight-as-an-arrow hair. Gravity pulled them together forming larger droplets that slid down her forehead and into those dark and wonderful, Asiatic eyes. She wiped them away with her hand, and crossed her arms under her small, pear-shaped breasts, pressing the nearly transparent, wet garment against her body.

The rain and the air-conditioning steeled her nipples. They poked against her tee like pencil erasers. It was then that I saw her shivering. Her wet clothing and the cool air, were chilling her body down. "Sorry, about the temperature setting, Jackie. Why don't we get out of those wet clothes..."?

Jackie's face flushed pink.

"Huh?" her surprised response came, even before I could finish my sentence. I grinned and enjoyed watching the pink flush creeping all the way up to her ears during that pregnant pause, and then I finished speaking.

"Yeah! Run upstairs and find something from Kitten's closet that you can wear. Get out of those wet things! Take a hot shower in Kitten's bathroom if you want to. I'll start dinner and get the table set while you change and get warmed up. Okay?"

I answered with a smile, thinking about the hot-pink thoughts that must have flashed through her mind a moment ago. Jackie is one of those girls who is never going to be comfortable around any type of innuendo or sexual conversations. It's just not... Jackie.

"Sure, she won't mind?" she stammered, while avoiding eye contact with me. I could see the discomfiture register on her face; first, at finding out Kitten was not home; secondly, at being alone with me. Added to that flustered feeling, also had to be my invitation to change out of her wet garments, without Kitten here, as well. However, another cold tremor shook her, as she stood in the same spot. That helped make up her mind, rather quickly at that point.

"No, you know her," I said, "she would offer anyone the shirt off her back, even if it was the only one, she had. Besides, you can't stay in your wet clothes; you'll catch a cold, the way you're shivering right now. Go!" I responded, as I walked over and changed the temperature setting to a more comfortable level for her. The last shiver, that racked her body, overcame that last bit of trepidation and the Asian-American shyness Jackie and her mom always seemed to display toward others.

I couldn't tell if Jackie was in the shower in Kitten's room, but I soon heard the sound of a hair dryer, and then silence. A few minutes later, I heard the sound of bare feet, dancing down the stairs, signaling her return. By that time, I had dinner on the table. Glancing up, I saw the drowned rat-girl had been transformed into a petite and demure-dazzling young lady gliding across the floor toward the kitchen table.

"The hot shower felt good and helped warm me up, Mr. Schumacher. Thanks for letting me use Kat's things," Jackie gushed, as a bright smile spread across her face.

Fortunately, she was able to find something that fit in the back of Kitten's closet and had slipped into an older, satin, long-sleeved blouse. It fit as well on Jackie as it did on Kitten -- when Kitten was about fourteen. With just a hint of cleavage, her unrestrained breasts pressed against the fabric and outlined her nipples, as she moved toward me. The darker brown shades of her areolae were visible through the lightweight material. A pair of jean-shorts corralled her butt; not fitting as well as it would have if the jeans were caressing Kitten's behind, but still pleasing to the eyes.