Archive-name: Casual/nitestrm.mf Archive-author: Wet Ink Archive-title: Midnight Storm 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. --