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A Stormy Night

A car break-down leads to a strangers house and some erotic night time fun

No, no she thinks as she suddenly loses power in her car. All the electronics in the cabin flash at her before dying. This can’t be happening, not now she laments in her mind realizing that her car battery had just died. “Perfect,” she mutters under her breath sarcastically as she looks out into the night, seeing the worst storm of the decade lash through the forest of evergreens, swaying them from side to side. The hurricane force winds shaking the car as the rain pelts against the window, lightning flashes in the sky illuminating the shadow of a house just up the road.

It’s better than sitting here she thinks to herself, mentally preparing for her ordeal through the storm to the house. She clasps the door handle, lifting it slightly before the wind rushes in and rips the door from her hand, slamming it open; icy rain flying through the open portal. She quickly steps out and struggles to shut the door against the raging wind, the rain knifing through her dress. Fucking weatherman, she thinks, couldn’t see this storm? She starts her walk to the driveway, leaning into the wind lest she gets blown away.

The one hundred meter driveway feels like an eternity to her as the rain slashes through her dress and stings her exposed skin on contact. What should have been a pleasurable stroll was turned into a battle against the elements as she makes it to the awning covering the door. She looks up and takes a hold of the bronze knocker with chilled, shaking fingers. She slams the knocker against the door three times, crashes barely heard above the booming of thunder above.

No answer.

She goes to knock again when the door swings inward with a hiss of wind. She looks up and sees him.

He holds the door open with one hand, his other holding up his white downy towel around his midsection. He looks out into the storm, surprised to see someone standing on his front porch. He sees her look up at him, as he takes in her image. Blonde hair turned black as night framing her face as it drips into the puddle at her feet, her dress clamped against her body, hugging her every curve, soaking wet, making rivulets run down her bare skin which glows red with exposure. Her mascara smudged around her eyes and down her cheeks from the storm.

She goes to open her mouth as he says, “Come inside, I’ll grab you some towels and some spare clothes for you,” as he waves her in. Without another word she comes inside, almost falling as she stumbles up the step, right into his arms. He feels her shivers as he catches her by the upper arms, steadying her. He pushes the door shut behind her, the howling wind being reduced to a low moan in the background.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll be back in a minute or two,” he tells her before running up the stairs, two at a time, exposing his muscular thighs to her. She looks around his mudroom, noticing how Spartan it was. Plain white walls, a simple closet to one side, white tiled floors with no pattern on it. She moves into the hallway, following him and seeing more of the house. Tiled floors gave way to polished oak hardwood, the walls painted a soft yellow with picture frames of nature and wildlife adorning the walls, a grandfather clock nestled beside the base of the stair. She sees doors leading into a living room area, a soft white carpet on the floor contrasted against the black leather couches, low coffee tables matching the couches with a fireplace in the middle of the room.

“Here you go,” his voice says from behind her, startling her. He had moved with such silence and grace that she never noticed him coming up close behind her.

“Thank you,” she replies to him, reaching out and accepting a different white towel and some spare clothes from him; all male. She notices that he had replaced his towel with a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. Simple, yet extremely sexy.

“There is a bedroom up the stairs where you can change. It’s the first door on the left,” he tells her as he steps aside. She nods her head and heads towards the stairs. The steps are silent as she goes up, intrigued by what else she will find there. At the top of the stairs the hardwood floors continue as she walks into the first bedroom on the left. Here, the hardwood gives way to a plush blue carpet, the walls painted a soft beige colour, elegant nature pictures hanging on the walls, including one of Monet’s lily ponds.

There is a king sized four poster bed with a canopy, curtains hanging down and tied at the posts. As she reaches out to run her hands through the curtains she remembers her soaked dress. She reaches down and grabs the hem of it, careful to not squeeze it too hard and wring it out on the floor. She pulls it upwards, listening to the sticky sounds as it pulls away from her skin; pulling it above her head. She opens the closet and finds it empty, only plastic white hangers inside. She grabs one of the hangers and puts her dress on it, hanging it off the hook behind the door for it to dry out.

She walks naked over to the bed, running her hands through the curtains, discovering them to be extremely soft. Silk? but she’s not sure. She then leans down and pushes on the comforter on the bed, her hand sinking into it. I bet that’s comfy. She walks back towards the towel she dropped on the floor; picking it up and wrapping herself in it. The fire in the living room had warmed her up and stopped her shivers, but the towel is even warmer. She snuggles into it, feeling herself getting warmer and warmer by the second, drying all the water droplets that lingered.

She drops the towel to the ground again and regards the clothes. A pair of grey sweatpants with white drawstring. At least they’ll stay up, then. She slips them on, feeling of soft the inside of it is against her bare legs. She then examines the top, a simple sweater dark blue. Way too big, but it’s all I’ve got. She pulls it on, loving the same warm soft feeling. I was right. The sleeves hang past her hands and the sweater dangles past her waist. She senses a faint smell of man on the sweater, mmm.

She notices a mirror facing the bed and examines herself. He has some good tastes; I actually look good in all this. Now what to do with my hair? She picks it up and lets it drop. She can feel how damp and wet it still is from her five minutes out in the storm. It’ll dry quicker if I leave it down.

She then walks over to her purse, taking out her mascara once more. She glances around the room. Kleenexes? She spots a box on the bedside table. She cleans herself up as best she can, removing her racoon eyes and mascara lines from her cheeks, before reapplying it. That’s better, she thinks as she grins at herself. She moves back to the bedroom door and heads back down the stairs to the living room to rejoin her mysterious saviour.

She slips down the stairs and into the living room noticing that he had restocked the fire, making the room significantly warmer as the flames licked up the chimney. He is sitting on a chair to the right of the fireplace, a glass of red wine in his hand. He looks up at her as she enters, moving to sit on the couch across from the fire, noticing a glass of red wine poured for her too. “I took the liberty of pouring you a glass as well,” he says motioning with his own glass.

She looks down into her lap, blushing, as she reaches for the glass. “Thank you,” she says looking into his icy blue gaze before taking a sip. “I’m Nicole,” she says as she places her glass back down on the table beside the couch.

“Curtis,” he replies to her, dipping his head in her direction. “You’re lucky I was home,” he begins to tell her, “or you may have been stuck out in this storm.”

“Thank you for taking me in, I hope I won’t be a burden,” she answers him with a slight gleam in her eye.

“Nonsense, you won’t be a burden. It’s my pleasure to have you, it’s nice to have company for a change,” he tells her before raising his glass to his mouth, the flames dancing within the red wine.  He notices her quick glance down to his hand and the slight upturn of her mouth upon not seeing a wedding band but chooses to say nothing.  “So what brings you out this way?” he asks.

“I’m traveling back to my parents’ house. I wanted to surprise them tonight, but I guess that won’t be happening anymore due to this infernal storm,” gesturing to the window and the bright flashes of lightning. “I can’t believe the weatherman was unable to predict this storm happening!” He smiled gently at her over the rim of his glass. “Do you live here by yourself then?”

“For parts of the year. This is one of several properties I own. This, however, is my favourite one.”

Her eyebrows rise at the mention of several properties. He must’ve inherited money; he looks way too young to have earned all of this. But he doesn’t have the air of superiority that those born into wealth always seem to have. He seems …. Humble almost.

“May I ask you what you do Nicole?” he interrupts her thoughts.

She blushes heavily. Do I make something up? Or do I tell him what I really do? Before she could stop herself she was telling him what she really did, “I’m a medical student just finished up my third year, but I work two jobs at the same time. I’m a bartender/waitress during the week and I work as a model on weekends.” Her face blushes even more, and not due to the wine or heat of the fire. “You need something to pay the bills, right?” she says as she tosses back her bangs from her eyes. He nods his head in agreement with her second statement before taking a sip of wine.

The gap in talking makes her nervous so she takes a big sip of wine before continuing to talk, a trait of hers when she’s nervous. “I’m paying for my own apartment in West End and my car, obviously,” she laughs nervously. “The bartending mainly covers rent and car payments. My tips cover the gas and groceries. I do the modeling because I like to have some extra money, y’know for personal things, to save up, and for investments. My dad is a stockbroker and got me into investments early when I was a kid. I actually play the markets quite regularly and have managed to pay for medical school that way. Oh, and plus the money I was left when my grandparents died. That certainly helped with medical school …” she trails off. “I’m sorry,” she tells him looking down at her hand, “you’re probably not interested in any of this.”

“On the contrary. I most certainly am interested,” he assures her as he stood up to replenish their glasses. She watches him walk away, catching herself staring at his ass, as he heads to the kitchen and the bottle of wine. When he returns he has two full glasses of wine again, setting one down next to her and taking the other back to his chair. “Please, continue.”

She takes another sip of wine, thinking in her head. “My apartment is pretty small, maybe the size of this room and your foyer. But it’s big enough for a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and a tiny living room. Your average apartment then I guess,” she states as she slows down again. Another sip of wine to try and help steel her nerves. Come on Nicole! Think straight. I know he’s good looking and all that but try and not make yourself sound stupid!

“I’m hoping to become a doctor.” You idiot! Of course you are, that’s why you’re in med school! “But I want to focus on little kids, like a Pediatrician. But I’m starting to think maybe a Pediatric Surgeon because I seem to enjoy the idea of surgery and I want to help children.”

“That is very noble of you,” he tells her, listening intently.

“Thank you.” Her face blushes even further, partially because of the wine and the heat of the room. “I’m single now.” Why the fuck does he care?! If he cared about that he would’ve asked, you moron! “Uhm, yeah. My boyfriend just broke up with me. Apparently, I wasn’t ‘slutty enough’ for him all because I said I wouldn’t give him roadhead. So I guess he went and found a slut to do that for him.” What have you done now?! He’s going to think you’re a total prude… but you don’t want him thinking you’re a total slut either … oh god, why did I even bring this up?!

“Were you two together for long?” he queries.

“About seven years, but we had lots of splits and breaks during that time. We were probably only a true couple for about three of those years.”

“Just a question for you to ponder then, why did you stay with him for that long?” he asks her.

Why did I stay with him for that long? It wasn’t that he was super nice or kind or anything. He wasn’t even that smart, nor good looking. The whole badass I do what I want look was cool back in high school, but not afterwards. He did have a big dick though. And he certainly knew how to use it. He wasn’t so good at fingering or eating me out though, she thought, her brow suddenly furring. I think he only ever made me orgasm two or three times in seven years, and when he did I’m pretty sure it was a mistake. As a matter of fact, I don’t even remember the last time he gave me an orgasm. That bastard! After all the ones I gave him, usually three to four times a week, and hardly any for me. Why the actual fuck DID I stay with him!?

That cock though … to die for. I most definitely have never seen a nicer one, not even in porn. It wasn’t too big or too fat. Just right. We did measure it once. A nice seven inches long and a solid five and a half inches around. It filled me up beautifully. But not for a good couple months now.

Actually when was the last time I had sex? It has to be at least five months now. Holy crap! I know we were on a break and all and then I was holding out of him but still! That’s a really long time for me. God’s no wonder I’m so horny right now.

When was the last time I masturbated too? Geeze it has to be about that long too hasn’t it? Nope, wait. It wasn’t that long. I totally did one after I finished that big project as a reward. That would’ve been about two months ago now right? Fuck me! No sex for five months and no masturbating for two months!? What the fuck is wrong with me? Maybe I am turning into a prude. What happened to the sex every day, masturbate every afternoon Nicole from high school? I mean, I don’t want to be a slut anymore, I have my career ahead of me, but still, a good hard fuck every now and then would be greatly appreciated. Even a nice masturbation session would be amazing. Maybe … no, I can’t. Not after all he’s done for me so far … I do really need it though … no! Mmm, but I really want to. And those satin sheets! I bet they’d feel so nice against my pussy. Fuck, I’m getting so wet at the thought of it. I guess that settles it then, tonight is going to be amazing!

Wait, how long have I been thinking now? What was I even thinking about? Oh right, the ex. Curtis, what a fucking sexy ass name … back on track Nicole! Curtis, mmm, he was right. Why did I stay with Brayden? There was nothing that excited me about him anymore. I should’ve broken up with him years ago. Shit! I’m still thinking. I wonder what Curtis is doing?

She came out of her mind and looked away from the fire and towards him. His head was down against his chest, heavy breathing exuding from his nostrils. Shit, she thought, he’s fallen asleep. I took way to damn long to think and got so distracted. Why does that always happen? Fuck me. Well, I guess I’ll go up to the room now. And have some fun. With that lingering thought, she smiles widely to herself, her glass of wine empty. I guess I was drinking as I thought. She heads back upstairs to her room.

She shuts the door behind her, locking it before slipping out of the borrowed sweatpants and sweater. She paces naked over to the four poster bed, pulling back on the curtains and raising the sheets, slipping in. The silk brushing against her bare skin as she sinks into the bed. She gets goosebumps running down her legs as the sheet slides over her erect nipples. She can feel her mound already producing a wetness that she hasn’t felt in ages.

She brings three fingers from her right hand up to her lips and licks them, sucking on them, before trailing her hand down to her bare, electrified mound. She starts rubbing her fingers over the quickly hardening nub that was her clit, teasing her lips as she feels herself leaking even more. She softly moans as she brings her other hand up to her breast, cupping and squeezing it; her fingers rolling and pulling on the hard nipple. She can hear her moans getting louder and struggles to contain them.

She arcs her back as her pussy begins quivering, wanting, needing, desiring more. Her other hand moves down her side, fingertips tracing swirling patterns as she works her way down, her fingers rubbing her lips, down one side and up the other, getting coated in her sweet nectar, forcing a whimper out of her mouth. Her original hand spreads her lips out wide as her other hand quickly begins pressing against her clit, whirling around in circles making her moan loudly.

She had not cum yet, but she was so close. Colours flash behind her eyes as her hand works magic between her legs. She has a sudden desire to have something stuffed inside her. She releases her spread pussy lips and slips two fingers deep into her hot, quivering pussy. Her fingers quickly find her slick g-spot and begin rubbing against it. She bucks her hips up into the air as she attempts to stifle a scream that threatens to rip through her body. She can feel herself on the edge of her orgasm, waiting to jump off the cliff and give herself to the rolling waves of it.

With a loud moan she jumps, her pussy squeezes her fingers tightly as she grinds her clit against her fingers, writhing on the bed as repeated wave after wave assaults her. She feels a pressure building up in her abdomen and gives in, causing her to feel a gushing sensation as if she was peeing. Her cum fountains out of her pussy, coating her hand and out over the slick silk sheets. Her eyes roll back into her head as she is lost in the bliss of the moment. She vaguely hears herself crying out in ecstasy as she repeatedly bucks her hips, never wanting the sensation to end and wanting to be deeper inside herself.

With a loud sigh, her body relaxes and she slumps back onto the bed exhausted. Her pussy unclenches and releases her fingers, which she trails up her body in a thin straight line, over her belly and between her twin breasts, jumping into her mouth. She savours the taste of herself, a side product of her ex who loved having his cock cleaned off after sex.

She is too exhausted to move or clean up and collapses into a deep sleep filled with highly erotic dreams of sex and wild fantasies.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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