After The Storm

I had put in for vacation the first full week of September so we could go to Texas and see our son graduate from boot camp. The higher-ups weren't keen on letting me go, but my immediate supervisor said go. It was a chance to get away, get cleaned up and escape the day-to-day grind of living without power, without long-range communications, of living after the storm.

Several times on the trip, Darlene got real emotional, almost angry, for no real reason that I could see, and at one point, I was about ready to just chuck the relationship. I knew I wasn't at fault this time, and I was getting tired of what I was seeing as emotional blackmail.

Finally, on the way back, I'd had enough. We were stopped at a rest area, and I took her aside while Debbie was in the bathroom.

"Look, I don't know what your problem is now," I said. "I've done nothing to make you feel this way. I've been walking on eggshells around you for a week and a half, but I feel like you'd reach over and bite my head off if you could. I'm trying my best to make the changes you want me to make, and I think I'm succeeding, but it's not going to happen overnight."

Darlene looked at me with her big eyes that were the first thing that drew me to her so many years ago.

"It's not you, it's me," she said, as she burst into tears. "I'm just so stressed out over everything, and I realize that I need you and I can't make myself take that step to lean on you, because I'm afraid if I do, I'll just get hurt again. I want to love you, and I want our marriage to work, but I'm afraid to let go, afraid that it won't work."

I held her then, held her like I always had when she needed comforting, and this time I could sense some real feeling in her response. And I could sense something else stirring as well.

It had been almost two months since we'd made love, and I could sense that we were both in need of some intimacy.

"Just give me some time," she said.

From that moment on, I was pretty sure we were going to make it, but I didn't know with certainty until a few nights later. I came home from work, through the darkened streets, to a hot, dark house.

It had been over two weeks since the storm, and progress was still slow, but you could see things were starting to improve. Power had been restored to many neighborhoods, gas was more readily available and most of the roads had been cleared.

I walked into our bedroom to find Darlene lying naked on our bed under a thin sheet. That has always been her signal to me when I come home from a late night at work that she's available for sex, if I'm so inclined, and right then I was very much inclined. I went over to her side of the bed, touched her shoulder and she opened her eyes dreamily.

"I wore your favorite outfit to bed tonight," she said softly.

"So I see," I said, my cock stirring in my shorts.

"Dan, please, come to bed and fuck me," she said. "I need you to love me."

She didn't have to ask twice. I went in the bathroom and brushed my teeth real quick, stripped off my sweaty clothes and climbed in bed with the woman I loved.

Her body was hot and sticky from where she'd been in our hotbox house most of the day, but that just turned me on. It seemed to make things just a little nasty, the way we like it. I leaned over her and we kissed, hard and insistent.

My hand gravitated to her pussy, and she was very wet and very hot. Her left hand curled around my hard cock and she softly stroked me. Sometimes, we use fantasies to stimulate our arousal, and often I have to stop in mid-fuck and reprime my pump.

We didn't need any of that on this night. We just needed each other.

I bent my head down to her breasts and slipped her right nipple into my mouth, sucking, licking and lightly nibbling on her flesh. She gasped as she began to climb the ladder toward a climax. Then I moved to her other nipple and got a huge thrill when she purred in appreciation.

All the time, my fingers were sliding in and out of Darlene's dripping pussy, and my thumb was rolling her clit around in a steady rhythm. Before I could go too far, however, she reached down and pulled my hand away.

"Don't make me come too soon," she said.

My cock was bursting hard, and throbbing with need. I rolled over onto my knees between Darlene's legs. She reached down and opened her labia, the thick lips shining with the dew of her arousal. I didn't mess around, but placed the head of my dick at her opening and pushed in all the way.

God, she felt so good! She was hot, wet and pliable, and she looked up at me with the same look of overwhelming love and lust she'd had in the past, and whispered the words that made my heart swell.

"Welcome home, love," she said softly.

"It's good to be back," I said raggedly.

We were on fire with lust, my cock working relentlessly in her spastic cunt. I leaned forward and took my bride in my arms and we kissed, frantically. It was so familiar and so comfortable that I almost forgot the crisis that had challenged our marriage.

Darlene and I aren't afraid to try new things, new positions, and we've done a lot of pretty crazy stuff over the years. But for us, the good old-fashioned missionary position is still our favorite way to fuck.

There's a reason why it's the most commonly used position. In the missionary position, I can look at my love, look at the lust in her eyes, see the strain on her face as she reaches to a climax. I can feel the friction of our sweaty bellies rubbing together as we grind our bodies as one, can feel her nipples dueling with mine to create crackling spasms of passion. Best of all, in that position, we can hold each other as we soar through the stratosphere in ever-widening circles of sensation.

It was never more so than that night after the storm. We were letting a lot of accumulated baggage out, a lot of things that had boiled up to the point where we needed a major purging, a cleansing of our souls. And for us, a good hard fuck has always been the best way to do that.

We were working as one, her legs around my waist as she thrust her hips up to meet my downward plunges. We were gasping, moaning in the grip of our passion. I could feel the tingle in my scrotum that told me I was getting close, and I drove my cock harder and faster, holding back my orgasm as long as I could to give Darlene a chance to come with me.

"Oh baby, oh baby," she chanted. "Come on, baby, do it. Fuck me!"

She nodded her head to indicate that she was ready, and seconds later I saw her squeeze her eyes shut. I bent down and kissed her wildly as her orgasm broke over the top. Her body shuddered as she came hard, harder than I'd felt her come in a long, long time.

That did it. I cried out desperately as I felt the rusty tingle in my cock, and I think I may have even screamed softly as the cum exploded from my cock. It seemed like I came forever, shooting staccato bursts of cum deep in Darlene's clenching cunt.

We were clutched together in a wild tangle of arms, legs and lips as we spent ourselves on each other, feeling the catharsis that comes from a truly memorable coupling between two lovers of long standing.

I wasn't finished, either. As soon as I finally stopped firing microbursts of cum deep in Darlene's twitching pussy, I slipped my deflated cock from her hole, slid down the bed and clamped my mouth over her dripping pussy.

Eating Darlene's creamy pie after I've just finished fucking her is a treat I only give myself when I'm in the grips of a true fuck frenzy. And I was feeling as wild as I'd felt in a long time.

My tongue was a dervish over her dilated hole, my lips working her swollen clit like a small cock. I sucked as much of our commingled juices as I could get, until she finally shuddered again, in an aftershock of sorts, then pulled me away from her super-sensitive pussy.

I climbed back up the bed, gathered Darlene in my arms and we kissed again, more leisurely, but even that had some passion behind it. She's not terribly fond of kissing me after I've gone down on her, but she wasn't objecting in the least on this night.

"Dan, I love you," she said.

"Do you really mean it?" I said.

"I really do," she said. "I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I see something different in you these days, and I like it."

"Good, because I love you more than you'll ever know," I said.

We fell asleep in each other's arms that night, sleeping well for the first time in days.

That seemed to be the watershed in our relationship. We went noticeably back to the way we had been much earlier in our marriage, telling each other we love each other more often, taking time to have quality time together – in bed and in life.

Hurricane Katrina changed my life in a lot of ways. I learned truths about myself during those long hot days that made me a completely different person than what I was before. I had to learn patience during that time, had to learn not to sweat the small stuff, had to learn what was important and what wasn't.

And I believe it changed Darlene too. She learned that she had to be more open to me about her feelings, had to talk to me directly rather than leaving hints that I might or might not pick up on.

I'm not going to lie to you and say I don't have those quick flashes of temper any more. I do, but I'm working to keep them to a minimum, trying to recognize when I'm being an asshole. I've told Darlene to tell me when I'm starting to get out of hand, and she has.

Darlene and I were slowly but steadily drifting apart, not communicating and not understanding each other. It's different now. We took a horrific event, one that changed so many lives, and made something good come out of it.