tagErotic CouplingsOur Secret Ch. 04

Our Secret Ch. 04

bySchaka©

4-The storm

The air was heavy and thick with the cloying humidity of a summer night. The birds had long since given up their sibilant chirping. Only the buzz of cicadas punctuated the night air. Black clouds hid the stars and moon making the darkness hang like black velvet. In the distance, the occasional flash of heat lightning gave promise of a violent summer storm. To paraphrase Shakespeare, the evening would bring a night of sound and fury.

Andre struggled to get to sleep. His fifth wheel provided adequate ventilation but the stillness of the night offered no cooling breeze. He lay nude, twisting and turning on the sweat-drenched sheets. His mood matched the night, dark with flashes of white-hot anger. The divorce had taken everything. He was left with this RV and a condominium in Big Bear California. He was travelling cross-country to his new home. His ex wife and best friend now occupied his home of twenty years.

Hot tears of rage, frustration, and humiliation streaked his face. His fist pounded the mattress in futile rage. He was too fucking civilized! He should have killed them both. He caught them fucking in his marriage bed and he had done nothing!

He swung his feet to the floor and sat up. He reached for the half-empty bottle of Markers Mark, poured a water glass half full and down it in a swallow. He picked up the blunt he had been smoking and relit it. The acrid smell of marijuana drifted about the room and out the screen windows.

Angrily he grabbed the bottle and walked out into the pitch-blackness of the night. He plopped his lanky frame into the fold up lawn chair that sat just outside the door. He took a deep drag on the blunt, letting the acrid smoke fill his lungs.

The campground was only partially full. A hundred yards to his left was a Class A motorhome. The family was comprised of only a 40ish couple. The husband was a big brash Irishman. He loved his whiskey and could tell tall tales all night.

John, the husband, had insisted he have a drink with them. Andre accepted the invitation with great reluctance. He was in no mood for socialization and idle chatter. However, the big Irishman's bon homme was infectious. Despite himself, his host's obvious zest for life lifted Andre's spirits.

His wife, Lauren, was short, thin and mousy. She seemed to inhabit the eye of this hurricane of a man. She was the calm center, the real anchor of this gregarious Irishman. Physically, there was nothing outstanding about her. She defined petite at barely five feet and less than 100 pounds. She was as reserved as he was outgoing There was no memorable bubble butt, no sensuous lips in an otherwise homely face. She was ordinary. Her body was spare, thin. Her breasts mere bumps on her tee shirt.

Andre thought he detected something else. Beneath that bony frame, a heat, a passion seemed to emanate from her. When she walked by them as they drank, the air felt like it did before a storm, crackling with electricity. Several times, he caught her observing him. He felt a little uncomfortable, like prey that senses the presence of a predator.

The lightning flashed, illuminating the sky. He glimpsed a solitary figure sitting outside the RV. Andre took a pull from his bottle and then a toke from his blunt. He heard the faint crunch of footsteps on the pine needles. Jack was drunkenly aware of his nakedness. He struggled to his feet.

"Don't mind me!" Lauren's squeaky voice penetrated the gloom.

"Please excuse me, Andre stammered, I'll go put some clothes on!"

"No, Andre, you are fine!"

He half turned, struggling to get into his fifth wheel and make himself respectable. He felt a visceral fear. At first his sodden brain rationalized, it was the fear of being seen naked talking to another man's woman. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he realized the fear was more primitive then that. He was being stalked. A predator had him in its sights.

Lauren Anderson closed the distance between them. She entered his private space, causing him to take an involuntary step back. Lauren reached out and grabbed Andre's flaccid member.

"I want to fuck; she said unabashedly, I want to be used like a cheap slut!"

Andre tried to step back but she held his cock tightly, almost painfully. She yanked on it several times.

"Look, Lauren, I'm not sure what is going on, but...!

"Sex! Mindless, no strings attached sex that is what is going on! Fuck me, plant your seed in me, and send me back to him!" Her head jerked in the direction of the motorhome

"But...but...!

His words were cut off as she lifted the shapeless shift over her head. She stood naked in front of him. Her body was lean, angular but with the full hips of a mature woman. An almost transparent thatch of blond hair covered her labia. Her eyes never left his as she sank to her knees. A hot fire burned in them. A sudden night breeze, presaging the coming storm, carried the pungent aroma of her arousal.

Reacting to her scent, thousands of years of sexual evolution caused the blood to rush to Andre's tool. It overwhelmed fear. It replaced common sense as the driving force in his life.

Lauren lightly kissed the head of Andre's cock. Then her tongue licked hungrily at the slit. She held his swelling member in one hand while licking it root to tip like an all day sucker. In a slow erotic rhythm, her head moved down and in, then up and back. Loud slurping sounds filled the air as she allowed her saliva to build in her mouth and then trail unchecked down his shaft.

"What... about ...John?" The words issued haltingly from his mouth. His hands hung loosely at his sides. The mix of booze, blunt and unexpected sex caused his head to spin.

She stopped, reached up, placed a hand on his abdomen, and pushed back into the chair. He rocked back, almost missing the chair. He sat with his legs splayed out in front of him and his head resting on the backrest of the chair.

"He is drunk and sleeping. For you, for now, I am your slut. I am the bitch you lusted after in your dreams. I am your ex wife who cheated on you and kicked you out. Take out your lust, your rage, and your need on me!"

She lithely moved forward on all fours. She settled between his legs, kissing the juncture where his scrotum blended into the beginnings of his ass. She leaned forward, forcing her face into the split that formed the two halves of Andre's ass; her tongue wormed its way into that crack. She drew it down until it licked lewdly at his anus.

Lauren placed her hands on either side, separated his butt cheeks. He started at this crude action. He felt her tongue probing his anus, flicking it then forcing the tip of her molten tongue into it. Her head bobbed as her tongue violated him.

Despite the alcohol and reefer, his member now stood rigid and erect, bobbing expectantly in the stifling night air. A flash of lightning revealed Lauren's sweating face as she licked her way back up his ass, kissing and licking his hairy balls, trailing hotly up his shaft. She spit on the head of his cock. For a moment, they both watched her phlegm trail down the blackness of his cock. Then her mouth engulfed his dick. It felt like a warm wet pussy.

Fear and lust gripped Andre. Fear that her mountain of a husband would catch his wife sucking a stranger's cock, a Black man's cock at that. He would inevitably blame the stranger. However, lust overlaid the fear. Lust that this force of nature called Lauren caused. His hips rocked up violently from the chair as she forced her middle finger up his rectum. He made a futile attempt to escape her anal invasion.

She choked as she took his cock down her throat. She gagged. Instead of retreating to catch her breath, she rose slightly and inhaled his member forcing it even deeper in her mouth pussy.

Still, her finger moved freely in his ass. At first in the classic in and out motion, then she turned her palm up as she found his prostrate. She raised her head from his engorged member. An almost simultaneous flash of lightening and roar of thunder illuminated her face, revealing a twisted mask of animal lust and need. Saliva, dripped from her open maw onto his rigid pole as she slowly moved her finger back and forth on his prostrate.

As the first drops of rain splashed on his forehead, Andre was startled to hear an animal scream filled the stormy night. The drumming of the rain on the pine needle covered ground partially muted this roar of passion. Overhead, the fir trees branches whipped about in response. The scream was long and mournful. It rose up and down the scale. A part of him realized he was the animal screaming in the night. His cry was forced from his throat. Lauren was drawing his seed and his cries with her skilful massaging of his prostrate.

However, she would not let him come. She maintained a tight painful grip on the root of his member, preventing him from coming. She would take him to the edge then pull back. He roared his frustrations into the night air. His hips pumped futilely up and down. Only his neck on the back of the chair and his feet on the ground balanced him.

"Are you a man, she growled over the fury of the storm. Can you satisfy a woman? Or is it only your need that must be sated?"

"WH...wha...what?" Lust clouded his brain and thickened his tongue.

"You watched, didn't you? You did not rush in, howling in indignation. You watched your best friend fuck your wife, take her to heights you never could!"

He flashed back to that day.

He had left work early. Today was Anne's birthday. A stop by the florist was definitely in order, And a box of those candies she loved so much... Turtles! He hummed to himself as he made the stops necessary to gather his offerings to his wife...his goddess!

The drive home was quick and uneventful. It was hours before the rush hour. In a scant few minutes, he exited the expressway. He tooled down the main street of his suburban village, past the mall with its upscale shops, through the surrounding commercial area with the auto body shops, and signs screaming out discount oil changes.

He turned into the long tree lined drive that led into his gated community. The guard waved amiably as his transponder opened the gate and admitted him to this upscale enclave set among the trees. The drive led into a circular drive that moved past private drives that led to the semi seclusion of the dwellings.

He turned into his drive. His long time friend's car partially blocked his access to the attached garage. The sight faintly irritated him. An inner portion of him resented the fact that his free access to his home was blocked. He smiled quietly to himself at his silliness. Tom was a good friend. In the ten years that had lived in this community, Tom and his wife, Clare, had become fast friends. They often vacationed together.

He squeezed his sedan into the space next to Tom's car. He realized that entering the garage was out of the question. Anne always parked on this side of the garage. He exited his car. He reached into the passenger's seat and retrieved the candy and flowers. He walked around to the side of his home. He fumbled with his keys but finally worked the lock and entered the kitchen.

Andre was a little surprised that Tom, Clare, and Anne were not in the kitchen as they normally were when they visited. Then he recalled that Clare was at her mother's. She and Tom had a spat. That seemed to happen more often lately. Sometimes the tension between them was palpable. It had strained the friendship between the two couples and particularly between Anne and Clare. They figuratively circled each other like female cats, sniping and spitting innuendoes.

He heard sounds emanating from down the hall. His abdomen fluttered. He moved down the hall toward their bedroom. Groans and a loud slapping sound wafted from that direction. The sounds were disturbingly familiar. He turned into the bedroom.

"Move you bitch, move! Back that ass up and take this cock!" Tom's hand rose in the air and came down violently on Anne's ass.

"Gimmee that dick you bastard! This is your pussy! Gawddammit use it!"

Andre stood transfixed. His mind struggled to resolve what he was seeing.

WHACK!

Tom's hand smacked Anne's ass again.

"Tell me what you are!"

WHACK!

"I'm a slut!"

WHACK!

Andre could see the bright red of his wife's ass.

"What kind of slut?"

WHACK!

"I'm a cheating slut! I'm your cheating slut!"

As Andre stood frozen, Tom thrust hard into Anne's pussy; she rocked back to meet his thrusts and they both started coming, bucking and snarling their obscene endearments.

"What the fuck is going on, Andre said weakly"

WHACK!

His head snapped as Lauren slapped him again. She had straddled the chair and mounted him. He could feel his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of her well-lubricated hole. The rain drove down violently on them. The thunder and lightning were almost continuous.

In a flash of blue lightning, he saw her raise her hand to slap him again. His hand darted up and grabbed hers. He held it tightly as his free hand swung up hard and rocked her head with a vicious slap.

"You cheating bitch!"

"Yes...yes, Lauren moaned her back undulating, I'm a cheating bitch!"

Her eyes closed, her hands moved to rest on his chest, her ass pistoned up and down, she was lost in the ecstasy of her lust.

WHACK!

She moaned as Andre slapped her hard across the face. The rain poured down turning the pine needle covered ground to mud. Andre rolled Karen off him and into the mud. He forced her to her knees. He rammed his black meat deep into her spasming pussy. He watched his ebony tool disappear into the pinkness of her hole. The mud flew as he smacked her skeletal behind.

"Why...why...why, Andre cried as he drove deep into her willing sex hole!"

The only reply was the animal mewling of Lauren punctuated by flashes of lightning.

He felt his seed filling his balls. His cock began to swell. Lauren felt him swell in her as cum moved up his cock.

"Please...yes...please...breed me...fill my womb!"

Andre came explosively, his seed spewing from him in a flood. His hard thrusts into her, forcing his seed deep in her womb matched hers, accepting it. Lauren felt his tool press hard against her cervix. As he collapsed on top of her, she raised one hand and felt her abdomen. She felt her feral heat wane, her need sated.

Andre rocked back on his knees. The driving rain partially cleansed the mud from them. He was exhausted. He rose, balancing himself on the lawn chair. He watched Lauren rise and walk naked toward her motor home in the lessening rain. The fury of the storm had been brief and violent. He turned and staggered up the few stairs into his fifth wheel. He passed out as he fell across the bed.

Andre woke to the bright sun streaming through the netting. The air smelled fresh and clean. The cleanliness of the morning air belied the mess of dried mud and pine needles he lay in. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, he stripped the filthy sheets from the bed and tossed them in the corner.

A quick inspection showed he was not in much better shape. Mud streaked his body. He slipped on some shorts and flip-flops, grabbed his toiletry kit and exited his camper. He spied Lauren's mud covered shift in the mud. He pondered what he should do with it.

It did not seem appropriate to take it down to her and her husband. What would he say? Your wife and I fucked in the rain and she left her dress. He leaned down, picked it up, and tossed it under his camper.

With some apprehension, he began the walk to the communal showers. His path would take him by John and Lauren's RV. John was a big guy and might take exception to his wife fucking a stranger. Then, he might have been in on it. Maybe this was their kink, to have his wife fuck strangers as they moved about the country.

A phrase popped into his head: Breeding Frenzy. They fucked like dogs in heat, the need to reproduce clouding all reason. He shook his head ruefully. I am over analyzing a great fuck, he thought!

He glanced up as he made his way through the sparse trees. The site where their RV had sat was empty! He stared blankly. He could see the impressions of the wheels in the saturated mud. They were gone! He could not recall them saying anything about leaving. However, he had been in a reefer and alcohol induced fog. He had been wallowing in self-pity. Maybe they told him and he could not remember.

Whatever! He continued on to the showers. He needed to shower, break camp and resume his journey to his new home. A new life awaited him in California.

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