Midnight Storm Fantasy

Darkness. Punctuated occasionally by the flashes from a distant
thunderstorm, it is folded over your eyes like a heavy layer of black
velvet. The humid night air caresses your face like a lover’s hand, and
you can smell the storm as it approaches.

You stand out on the porch in front of your remote farmhouse,
wondering how long it will be before the lights are restored, banishing
the night again for a bit. A quick breeze toys with your hair and your
skirt. You shiver slightly at the chill running down your spine, and
cross your arms over your breasts.

Off in the distance, now, you see the headlights of an approaching
car. You feel the tension creep over you as the driver picks his way
down the poorly-maintained road that leads nowhere but to you. Alone
tonight, your retired parents in town for dinner with friends, where
they will spend the night, and you are aware of your vulnerability.

A low roll of thunder distracts you, as it crawls over you slowly,
reminding you of the incredible power of nature’s display, making its
way across the flat countryside in the night.

You can hear the car’s engine now. It purrs quietly, revealing a
pent-up power that provides a counterpoint to the uncontrolled energy of
the storm on the horizon. A flash of lightning illuminates the vehicle,
and you note that it is a fine European make, black as the night, with
nobody within but the driver, whose features you cannot yet make out.

Turning the final corner, the car stops in front of you, the engine
goes silent, and the lights go dark. You hear the door open and another
flash of lightning lets you at last see the stranger’s face. Something
inside you cries out, and you feel your knees go to jelly at the sight.
He is everything that has ever attracted you — finely-styled black
hair, a proud but not arrogant face, piercing grey eyes. Eyes that are
directed straight at you, and which you can feel boring through you,
even in that scant instant of light.

Footsteps in the gravel. A rich, low voice, “Hello, miss. Could
you help me, please?” You feel a fluttering in your gut at the sound,
and your throat seems constricted as hard as a rock.

“Sure, uhm, what do you need?” you finally force out. You feel the
porch move slightly as he pulls himself up the stairs by the hand rail.
His footsteps on the plain decking of the porch are hard, rapping, and
you want them to come closer to you.

“I am lost. Between the storm and the map that I have, I took a
bad turn a while back and now have no idea at all where I am.” His
speech carries a faint, aristocratic accent. Still the fluttering
inside you continues, and you can see his shadowy outline against the
blackness beyond the house.

“Oh, okay… Come on inside. I’ve got a map.” You turn and open
the door, going into the house. It is even darker in here, if that were
possible, and he hesitates at the doorway.

“Can you turn on a light?”

“Oh — sorry. The storm knocked out the lights. I think I’ve got
a flashlight around here someplace. Okay?”

“Sure. I’ll wait here. Don’t want to trip over a lamp or
whatever, you know.” You can practically hear his smile.

“Yeah, uhm, I’ll be right back.” You make your way into the
kitchen, where the flashlight is kept in a drawer. Turning it on, you
retrace your steps, squinting slightly in the relative brightness of the
beam.

As you return to the front room, he advances into the house and
closes the door behind him. “Much better,” he says approvingly. “Now I
can see.” His eyes are drinking you in, and you feel a quiver pass
through you, wondering at the true meaning of his words.

Setting the flashlight down on the coffee table, you pull open the
drawer in the end table to retrieve the promised map. “Here, have a
seat,” you say, motioning at the sofa. You sit beside him and spread
the map before you.

This close to him, you can smell the sharp tang of his aftershave
and feel the warmth emanating from him. You point out some landmarks to
him on the map.

“Ah, yes, I see now. I went wrong here,” he says, and points at a
highway intersection miles away.

“And you’re here, now,” you say. A startlingly brilliant flash of
lightning makes you jump, and the instant reply of thunder booms between
your ears with a voice of unstoppable strength. You hear sheets of rain
hit the house almost immediately.

Recovering, you point out the place on the map to him again. Your
finger is trembling, and you look at him. He is smiling at your
reaction to the storm. “Caught me by surprise,” you say, returning the
smile.

“Same here. Well, I suppose I should be off now. Thank you very
much…”

Looking outside at the storm breaking over the house now, you
quickly interrupt, “Why don’t you stay at least until the rain stops?”
Your heart is in your throat now, and you feel sure that he can hear it
beating.

“I suppose that might be wise,” he said, smiling again. “Allow me
to introduce myself. I am James Morris, from Colchester, England. And
you…?”

“Oh, uhm, Tammi Gardner. I’ve lived here forever, you know?” He
offers you a handshake, and you accept. His grip is firm and gentle,
and you flush as you realize that you are still holding his hand.

As you release his hand, he smiles, “Pleased to make your
acquaintance, Miss Gardner.”

“Oh, please call me Tammi,” you say quickly, wondering what you
are doing.

“Certainly, Tammi. So, what do you do here?”

“Oh, just help out my folks. Odd jobs in town, that sort of thing.
Nothing much, actually.”

“Well, you help out visitors in the night, and to me, my dear, that
is far more than nothing.” He smiles warmly, and the last vestiges of
restraint leave you at that instant.

You lean toward him and kiss his lips without warning. After a
moment of surprise, he begins to respond, and you loose yourself in the
warmth of his mouth. As you break from him at last, you find that you
are shaking.

“I- I don’t know what’s come over me,” you say quietly, “But I have
to have you.”

He says nothing, and draws you to him for another kiss. When you
emerge from this one, the flashlight is dying, and he reaches over and
shuts it off. “I don’t think that we need that, Tammi,” he says
quietly. You nod agreement into the darkness, and sag against him.

He holds you in his arms, and you feel his hands on the buttons
down your back, releasing you from the confines of the simple dress.
You kiss him, stroking his face and inhaling the clean scent of him.

As he slips the dress from your shoulders, exposing your breasts to
him, you lean back and start on the buttons of his shirt, seeking them
blindly with his fingers.

He caresses your neck, gliding down past your collarbone, to the
hollow between your breasts. His fingers glide around to cup your
breast lightly, and you feel the nipple stiffening in response. His
thumb finds it, and you gasp at the sensation.

You feel him moving, and his mouth suddenly finds the other breast.
As he strokes the nipple with his toungue, you abandon yourself to the
feelings. He finishes removing his shirt, working slowly, his toungue
awakening parts of you that have slumbered your whole life, awaiting
this moment.

Your hands run over the firmly muscled surface of his back, and
your breath is ragged in the night air. Nothing before this moment has
prepared you for what you are experiencing.

An explosion overtakes you, and your body stiffens. You are dimly
aware of thrashing wildly under his mouth, and of his sudden nudity
beside you. Your remaining clothes follow his onto the floor, and your
bodies meld together in an endless moment of pleasure.

His lips find yours again, and he holds you to him tightly, moving
slowly within you, leaving a trail of fire between your legs. You
clutch at him desperately, seeking something stable to hold onto as your
life is changed.

The storm reaches its height now, with lightning flashing is all
directions, thunderclaps assailing your isolated house, and rain pouring
over everything in a nearly-solid wave. Inside, also, the storm has
reached its height, and you feel another explosion building.

You are lost in a swirl of emotion, sensation, and ecstasy. The
storm’s strobe light effect gives an air of surrealism to everything.
Familiar surroundings, picked out in preternatural clarity, combine with
unfamiliar sounds and feelings to create an experience that you will
never forget.

As you both undergo the transformation of orgasm, you notice the
sweat between your bodies and the texture of the sofa beneath you. The
hair of his chest is soft, and you kiss it gently as you return slowly
to the reality of the night.

Finding his nipple, you experiment, kissing it and returning the
treatment he gave yours. His response is gratifying, and you continue,
encouraged. He strokes your hair, murmuring quietly to you, urging you
on.

Your kisses continue down his torso, until you face his cock
directly. It is a thing of beauty, and, impulsively, you kiss it. His
response is so tremendous that you go on to explore the possiblities of
this more thoroughly.

You taste yourself and the strange saltiness of his semen as you
draw the head into your mouth. The whole thing jumps as you run your
toungue over the ridge and onto the shaft. He shifts himself around,
and you feel his breath tickling the hair of your pussy.

The joy that you feel at returning some of the pleasure he has
given you is beyond description. The look on his face is rapturous, and
you allow yourself to sink back into the bottomless bliss of the raw,
undiluted pleasure that you share.

Your hear yourself squeal in surprise as his lips touch your pussy.
His toungue darts out, finding the hard nub of your clit, and waves of
pleasure course over you. The sensation distracts you for a moment from
the attentions you had been lavishing on his cock, but the lingering
taste in your mouth reminds you.

Your mouth engulfing him, his toungue bathing you, the feeling is
incredible. It feels as though you are in some sort of endless circle,
spinning around some unseen point of passion, approaching the top of a
vortex of pleasure.

The storm has abated outside, but the battle between the elements
continues on the sofa. A throbbing, pulsing cyclone is let loose
between your legs, and you taste a salty torrent in your throat. As you
both return to earth, you crawl up beside him, relaxing is his warm
embrace.

When you awake, it is quiet outside, and the skies are beginning to
clear. Stars twinkle faintly through thin, high clouds, and he squeezes
you for a moment, and then sits up.

“I’m sorry, Tammi, but I must be going.”

“I understand, James. Thank you. For everything.”

You pull your dress back on, and as his dark car pulls away, you
watch again from the porch, a sense of peace overcoming you. As you return
to the house, the lights come back on. The storm of this night may be
past now, but its effects will remain with you forever.