Tree leaves turned, not blown by a breeze or a gust of wind, they turned of their own accord. It seemed the lighter side of the leaves looked thinner then the rich dark green side, more vulnerable. Were the leaves turning from the doom to come? Did they know the mighty wind coming was going to take them and so many of their brothers?
Rolling thunder, from the west, bowling through the high clouds to the east. A light breeze barely stirred the branches. A bad sign, it told him it was going to be a long storm.
By the time he stacked and tied down the deck chairs, there was a steady wind. Feeling dread, he is not a fan of high wind. He runs inside, checking the radar on the weather channel. Large, red, pulsing bands of storms flashed on the screen. They were inches from his area on the map, he knew it wouldn't be long till it got real dark outside.
As if he needed confirmation, the white light of day turned grey for a moment, before succumbing to darkness. His living room was bathed in long shadows of night. Ping! Ping! "Please no," he whispered. Pulling open the door, he saw pebble size hail mixing with large drops of rain. Then he saw her.
She screamed, covering her head with her arms. Art yelled out as thunder rumbled its ground shaking voice. She turned left, then right, trying to find a small pocket of space not raining hail. Running out, skull, face, arms, even his ears were pelted with mother natures pellets. She stood, crying, as she tried in vain to find cover. Yanking her hand, they raced to Art's house, bruises, colors of faded yellow, purple forming under their exposed skin.
Practically throwing her inside, Art slammed the door behind him. They were both breathing heavy. Loud pings, mixing with thuds on the roof had Art looking out the window. Rolling clouds, dark as night, lengthen the shadows in the room. A waterfall of rain ran down the glass. Feeling a slight bit better, knowing rain is better then hail, Art rounded on the young woman behind him.
"Stupid shit!" You ever watch the weather?" Her blue eyes showed hurt, Art didn't care, when he was scared, he became pissed. The approaching storm, the run through natures fury scared him quite a bit. He did care how blue her eyes are though, they would certainly match the deep blue of sky after this storm.
He ripped into her verbally, insulting what little sense she had for being outside.
What surprised and delighted him, her fighting back. Her eyes narrowed to slits, pale cheeks from fright turned pink. "FUCK YOU, MR. KNOW IT ALL ASSHOLE!!!"
Silence, a deadly silence, he could almost taste the venom coming off her. Thunder shook the foundation of the house.
He recognized her, Chris from up the street. Her blonde hair, a shade darker, drenched from the rain. Her eyebrows, thin lines, furrowed down in anger. Eyes, truly snake like, good thing looks can't kill. A mix of pale and pink through her face. Lips, another thin line. Her stance is set, sure footed, clearly saying you want a piece of me? Nipples poked through her damp shirt.
That was all she wrote.
Lighting flashed, foreheads, noses bumped, lips met.
The storm wanted to blow its wind, drench the earth, let everyone know who was in charge, it did.
Art wanted Chris, he took her.
Kissing her lips, stealing her breath, letting her know who is in charge. He pulled off her shirt, kissing her nakedness. Her bra fell to the floor. Breasts were squeezed, sucked, nibbled, worshiped.
Her back to a wall, wincing when his lips touched a bruise. His tongue swirled in her naval. Thunder, lighting, wind, rain battered the outside world.
Like leaves stripped off the trees, her clothes were stripped off her body. Pants and panties lay in a heap around her ankles.
She panted, moaned, gasped, came furiously into his mouth.
Fear flooded his body. The unknown, like the storm, never knowing what it might bring. Would she be happy with him? His size? He held his breath when she yanked his pants and boxers down his legs. She pulled with enough force to pull him across the floor a few inches.
She stared at his cock, Art waited. Would she say, "sorry, I have to go?" She did not. Her mouth, as hungry as his, kissed, licked, sucked his cock. Flashes of lighting made her bobbing head look like start stop motion in a film.
Storm still ranging, they left it behind. Light flashed, thunder rumbled, no matter. Two naked bodies melted together on the floor. "Are you..."
Inside her untouched body, one last obstruction to taking her. "YES!"
Chris cried out, her body jolted, blood mixed with her cum. Her pain was gone in a second, pleasure flooded her body as his cock tore open her vagina.
Waves of pleasure, orgasm after orgasm, his cock taking her over and over.
She rode the winds, his moans thunder in her ears, cock, a thrust of lighting.
She felt him swell, ripping her open even more. Faster, pounding into her, deeper. She clenched, hard as a vice, feeling his cum travel through his cock. Long ropes squirted out, she came as his seed rocketed into her. They were both lost as their bodies trembled from quaking orgasms.
"I'm Art by the way." A thin band of sun somehow cut a cone through the darkness. "I'm thinking of changing my name to Bill." His voice is weak, raspy. She smiled, "I know," her voice is equally raspy. "I like both names, just never change how you fuck."
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