This burst of thunder was even louder than the last, and the rain, already coming down in solid sheets, somehow fell even harder. The windshield wipers might as well have been off. Julie had opened her window a crack, just for a second, to try to read a road sign, and now her hair was wet and plastered across her forehead in a way I would have found cute and sexy if I hadn't been so annoyed.
"Well," she said over the thunder and the rain, "we can't see, we don't know where we are, we don't have very much gas left, and I think the radio said something about tornadoes just before it died." She managed to grin. "Right about now, there should be a big bolt of lightning that outlines a really creepy-looking old house on a hilltop, with at least two pointy towers on the corners." I grunted, and tried to drive. Julie pouted.
We were somewhere in the middle of nowhere. The people at our destination expected us vaguely "sometime before Friday", which meant that if we sank into the mud, they wouldn't even start looking for our entombed bodies for two or three days.
When the big bolt of lightning did come, the house that it outlined wasn't particularly old or creepy-looking, but we made for it as quickly as your standard B-movie guy and gal. The engine died just as we pulled into the driveway. As I waded up the walk to the front door, another bolt of lightning showed me that, except for being in the middle of nowhere and apparently having no neighbors of any kind, the house would have been at home in any suburb in North America. And the couple that answered my knock and generously invited us in were as nondescript as their house.
He, Jack, helped me bring our most necessary bags in from the car, and she, June, put on some tea, and found Julie some towels. "The radio says it won't be safe to drive until at least the morning; we can put you two up in the guest room, if you don't mind some clutter." We didn't mind; we sank into chairs and drank tea, and tried to strike that delicate balance between gratitude and grovelling worship. It was good to be inside.
As I adjusted to not driving, not squinting, and not being on the edge of panic, I began to notice our hostess. She was not quite the generic suburban woman I had first thought I'd seen; her hair was long and lustrous, her body full and interesting in a loose casual dress that showed considerable bust and legs. The more I studied her, and I could not help but study her, the more fascinated I became. The rise and fall of her breasts under her clothing was palpable, absorbing, erotic.
I took my teacup back into the kitchen. I had just rinsed it out and put it down beside the sink when I realized she was in the room with me, behind me, her clothing rustling against her skin, her breathing loud in the enclosed space. I turned, and her arms were around me, her mouth on mine, her lips opening to admit my tongue. I pressed myself against her, feeling her firm breasts against my chest, and her thighs parted around my right leg, her body rubbing against me. We kissed passionately and long, our tongues dancing together, eyes closed. She moaned deep in her throat, and her hand slipped between us to caress my body. Then she was gone.
I stopped to get my breath, and stepped back into the living room. Julie and the man of the house were sitting and talking about nothing. June was also there, seated calmly with her tea, as though she had not just been with me in the next room, her lush and willing body in my arms. I sat down.
We all talked companionably, but I have forgotten every word of the conversation. My eyes were drawn irresistably to June in her chair, sipping her tea, her eyes meeting mine now and again as the rain pounded down outside. Was there lust and fire there, or just a reflection of the lamp light? Was it an accident that her knees faced me, her legs slightly spread, the warm dimness of her thighs and her panty open to my eyes? Was it normal that her hands seemed to play over her chest, pressing her dress against her breasts, framing her curves and the points of her nipples with her long slender fingers?
Eventually, we all went upstairs, and Jack and June showed us the guestroom. Julie and I sat down on the double bed, not talking, unpacking a few things and then sitting in silence, in our damp clothes. Jack and June came back into the corridor, to say goodnight. Outside, the thunder boomed, and the wind rattled a shutter.
June was wearing a long translucent nightgown with buttons down the front. She seemed to me naked, more than naked, every curve of her body clear to me. I thought with surprise how much she looked like Pat, Julie's older sister. Jack, in pajamas and a loose smoking jacket, said a polite goodnight to Julie.
"Thank you so much!" said Julie, in an oddly strained voice.
"Don't mention it," said June, "if there's anything at all we can do for you, just let us know."
"Jack," said Julie, "what I'd really like is for you to let me take your cock in my mouth and suck you until you're stiff and hard, and then for you to fuck me until I scream, and you come inside me." I looked over at her; she was standing staring at Jack, looking nervous but hopeful, ignoring June and me in the hall beside her.
I turned to June, trying to think of something to say to cover Julie's incredible statement. Her eyes met mine, and all I could think of was her body in my arms in the kitchen. I took a step toward her, and stopped. "I," I stammered, "I want to open your gown and bury myself in your sweet naked body." She smiled and stepped up to me, raising her face to mine as, in the corner of my vision, Jack kissed Julie hard on the mouth, and started undoing her shirt with his hands.
June's lips burned mine like holy fire; my cock was instantly erect and throbbing in my pants as I ran my hands up and down her back through the thin fabric of her nightgown. All four of us, variously entwined, moved into the bedroom. I sat on the bed, June standing between my knees, her marvelous body close to me. Her fragrance was hot and musky. I slid my hands over her hips and around behind her, caressing the lucious globes of her ass. My fingers sinking into her flesh, I pulled her body toward me. I buried my face in the rounded receptive softness of her gown, her breasts on either side of my forehead, my hands squeezing her upper thighs. She ran her fingers through my hair and sighed.
Jack lay back on the bed, and Julie hungrily opened his robe and ran her hands over him. There was a click, just audible over the rain, as she undid his pajamas and freed his cock. It was an average cock, no bigger than mine; Julie took it in her hands and began to stroke, and Jack's body arched, his hips thrusting at her. I moved one hand up June's back, forward over her side, up to her throat, and began to unbutton her nightgown. The buttons were small ivory discs, smooth and cool under my fingers. As each one came undone, more of her hot voluptuous body was naked before me, and my heartbeat sped up another notch. My other hand mindlessly caressed her legs through the fabric, raw pleasure running up from my palm into my brain.
.... There is more of this story ...