Hurricane Horny

"I made some coffee, hon. Did you sleep well?"

"I sure did. I ain't slept that well for a long time."

"Good. How do you like your coffee?"

"Just straight," she said sitting up with the duvet pulled up around her, "Thanks."

"The wind's dropping all the time. I reckon I can get the tarpaulin rigged soon, to cover the gaps left by the shingles. It's good that there's a tarp there. And the camping stove. Your husband must have been well-informed."

"Earl? He didn't know nothin'! All the stuff here, furniture, stuff in the shed, everything, it was left here by the previous owner. Even the car was here. Earl never bought nothin',"

"That's a bit unusual, isn't it?"

"I guess. But Earl won the house in a card game, see? We was in a trailer before that."

I wondered how she stood legally with that arrangement. It was something I'd have to check when I got the chance.

"I'll heat you some water so you can have a wash, hon. There's no other hot water."

"How long will the electricity be out you reckon? I don't like the dark."

"I don't know sweetheart. But I'm here, we'll be fine."

She looked at me with another unreadable expression, But, again, it wasn't hostile or frightened.

"I guess."

A soon as she was in the bathroom I went outside. The wind had dropped to almost nothing, now. In less than twenty-four hours it had gone from zero to hurricane force and back to zero again. Biblical amounts of rain had fallen; there was standing water in the yard and the road up which I'd walked was now a river. I managed to find a ladder in the garden next door. There was no-one home; I guessed they wouldn't mind me borrowing it. They'd lost shingles too, but otherwise the property had fared well. It took me quite a while to fix the tarpaulin as I had to put in fixings to tie it to, which meant delving into the ruins of the shed, but I managed it. I discovered another tarp in the shed, so I was able to cover the whole of the windward side of the roof. That was good. I tidied up a bit, too, piling up the debris and dismantling the remains of the shed. I collected a few intact shingles, but I would need many more to repair the roof.

"I made some stew," said RitaMae as I went back into the house. She was wearing a different dress, but of similar style to the previous day's, "It's just canned stuff. I ain't a great cook."

"I'm sure it's great, sweetheart." As I'd been working hard and hadn't eaten properly for thirty-six hours it tasted fantastic, and I told her so.

I ate hungrily, then sat back as she poured more coffee.

"I managed to get that stove working. I ain't never seen one before. I don' like it. I hope they get the electricity back on soon."

"So do I, hon. I've covered the roof, but I need to put the shingles back as soon as I can. I'll have to get some more from somewhere. Is there a Building Supply store in town?"

"I dunno. I guess there must be, right?" She paused for a minute as she crossed to the sink, giving me a very definitely quizzical look.

"Why are y'all really doing this? Y'all have only just met me."

I looked her straight in the eye.

"I know. But it's like I told you. I love you. I fell for you the moment I set eyes on you. Last night and this morning only confirmed it. You're mine and I'm yours. For ever."

"Y'all must be crazy. I ain't got nothin'."

I stood up, put my arms around her and kissed her. She looked at me questioningly.

"Just give me a chance, RitaMae. Let me show you what I can do for you."

"I wasn't gonna throw you out. Not yet anyways."

I smiled. I loved her laconic way of talking. I loved her accent. I loved her eyes. I loved her.

Once I'd finished eating I sat back as RitaMae washed up in a mugfull of hot water. It was nearly dark.

"I kept some coffee in a Thermos. You want some?"

"Oh, hon. You're wonderful. I'd love some."

"I don't like the dark. I hope they fix the power soon," she said again.

"I'm sure they're doing their best, sweetheart. " RitaMae had found some small decorative candles somewhere. I stuck one on a plate, lit it and headed for the living room.

"Come and sit down, hon, you've done enough."

She sat next to me on the settee. I put an arm round her and pulled her close. She didn't resist. I kissed the top of her head where it rested on my chest.

"We should be OK if it rains. The south side of the roof is covered where I put the tarpaulin, that's where most of the shingles are missing from, but there are a few shingles missing on the north side, too. Tomorrow, I'll go and see if I can get some. There should be plenty lying about, I guess."

"Don't you go taking no-one else's shingles for me" RitaMae said sitting up sharply, " I won't have no-one else's stuff. I ain't no looter!"

"Jesus, RitaMae! What makes you say that? I'm not gonna steal anything. Your shingles are out there somewhere aren't they? But they all look the same, so as long as they're not on anyone's property they're free for all, right? Anyway they'll most likely be damaged, so I'll need lots of new ones. I'm hoping there'll be somewhere open tomorrow."

She was looking at me as I said all this and I saw her features soften from the angry expression they'd taken.

"Well, Ok, I guess. Earl would just have stolen stuff. I guess I'm not used to...men like you."

"Honey, I've never stolen a thing in my life. I don't intend to start now."

To my relief she nestled back into my chest.

"How come you can do roofs? I thought you were a carpenter?"

"I've worked on a lot of building projects. You pick things up."

"You certainly picked me up."

She said it so laconically that it didn't twig at first. Then I laughed and kissed her again.

"And I'm never gonna put you down, sweetheart."

It suddenly got dark as it does in these parts, RitaMae shivered, though it wasn't cold.

"Let's go to bed," I said picking up the candle.

"I guess," she replied.

I got straight into bed naked; RitaMae went into the bathroom with the candle. She came out a few minutes later wearing a dressing gown. When she took it off she had a t-shirt and panties on. She got into bed and lay on her back, the duvet up to her chin. I leant on my right elbow, stroked her hair and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"I ain't sleepy," she said in her slow drawl. I smiled at her.

"You know all about me. Why don't you tell me about yourself? You weren't born here were you?"

I felt her stiffen when I asked her about herself, but I just kept stroking her lovely soft, dark hair.

After a few seconds and a few hesitations she said, "Ain't a lot to tell. I'm a farm girl from north Alabama. I was on the farm till just over a year ago. I married Earl, we came here, he died. That's it."

I wanted to ask for more information, but I sensed that she wouldn't say much more and that even to ask would be a bad idea. So I moved to less sensitive subjects.

"How do you live? I mean how do you make money?"

"I don't, much. I do washin' and ironin' for the rich ladies around here. It just about keeps me goin'."

"Well, I'm here now. I guess there'll be plenty of work for a carpenter after this storm, right?" Another thing occurred to me.

"How old are you, sweetheart?"

"Nineteen."

I felt relieved. I'd just assumed she wasn't a minor, though sometimes she looked very young. I was nine years older than her; not a huge gap. I bent to kiss her on the mouth. She permitted the kiss but didn't respond as ardently as I might have hoped. I persisted. After a few minutes she kissed me back. I slipped a hand under her t-shirt and caressed her cute slightly bulging belly. Her lovely little tits were easily in reach, but I decided to go slowly. I couldn't really read her yet. She hadn't resisted any of my advances so far, but she hadn't really responded either. She certainly hadn't climaxed; though I couldn't remember for sure what had happened during the storm. I kissed her neck and ears; I kissed her eyes and cheeks; I kissed her lips. I felt her breathing shorten. She was aroused! I slowly moved my hand up to her breast and squeezed it slowly and gently. Her nipple hardened gratifyingly as I caressed it.

"RitaMae, you're gorgeous. I want you!" I whispered.

She didn't reply, but arched her back and groaned quietly. I tugged at the hem of her t-shirt and she lifted a little so I could take it off. Her breasts were now there for me. I kissed them and sucked on her nipples in turn. She was making more little noises now, her arousal growing.

"Maybe this time I can make her come," I thought as I ran my hand down between her legs. There was a definite damp patch in her knickers. I squeezed her mound and tugged at the waistband of her panties. My cock was hardening rapidly and pressing against her thigh.

"I want you, sweetheart."

She lifted her bum up so I could drag her panties off. I tossed them away and rolled onto her. I had to reach down and pry her legs apart, but she didn't resist other than that. Once between her legs I pressed my cock against her mound. Suddenly she spread her legs wide. I felt for her opening and guided my cock inside her. I pushed slowly until I was fully in.

"Oh, Jesus, RitaMae. That feels so good!" I kept still, just enjoying the feeling of being inside her. I fitted perfectly. Once again I reflected that I'd never felt this good with any other woman; not that I'd had that many. Ten probably, most of those in the last two years. An English accent is a real romantic asset in the US, I've found.

RitaMae was still breathing heavily, her eyes closed. I kissed the tip of her nose. She opened her eyes.

"Y'all waitin' for Christmas?"

I laughed. "Sweetheart, there's no hurry is there? I've never felt this good. I want to enjoy it."

I pushed my hips against hers until I was as far inside her as I could possibly be. God! it felt so good! Eventually I could hold out no longer and began to thrust slowly but deeply. I gradually built up the pace but endeavoured to be gentle at the same time. Something told me that RitaMae would respond to slow and gentle. She moved her hips in time with mine and made lots of cute little noises. But she didn't come.

After I'd ejaculated I kissed her, whispered "I love you" and rolled off, breathing heavily. After a few minutes she snuggled against me again.

"I still ain't sleepy."

I laughed and hugged her tightly. We lay quietly for some time, neither of us sleeping, but not talking either. RitaMae moved a little, her leg across my lower body. Her pubic hair rubbed against my thigh. That was enough to arouse me again. My cock stiffened.

"Jaysus, are all English men like you?"

"Definitely not. I am absolutely unique, darling."

She snorted, "I s'pose you want to do it again?"

"If that's ok with you, ma'am."

"I guess." With which laconic but hardly enthusiastic reply she turned onto her back, spread her legs and raised her arms above her head.

I spent some time kissing her tits and sucking her lovely pink nipples whilst fingering her gently. I wondered if a lot of foreplay might get her off. She was certainly aroused again, but despite my manual and penile efforts she didn't have an orgasm.

"That was nice," she breathed when I'd finished. Well, it least it's a positive comment, I thought. It's the first time she's responded in any way. She fell asleep in my arms soon after. I lay awake for a while enjoying the rise and fall of her steady breathing on my chest, loving being where I was but a little disappointed that I hadn't been able to give her an orgasm. Still, I thought, there was plenty of time. I'd persevere, trying as many techniques as I could.

Chapter Three

I awoke alone. I lay still for a few minutes then picked up noises from the kitchen. They were coffee machine noises. The power must be back on! I climbed out of bed, pulled on my shorts and walked through.

"We have electric!" RitaMae said with a smile. "I've made coffee. I'm gonna shower. I smell like a polecat."

I grabbed her as she walked past and sniffed her.

"You smell great to me, honey. You smell like you've just been made love to by the man of your dreams."

"No, just you." She kissed me (she actually kissed me! ), and went off for her shower. I drank the coffee and waited idly, planning the day. I needed to find a source of shingles. I had a couple of hundred dollars cash and quite a lot in my bank account. I could certainly buy some shingles and keep us going for a few weeks, but replacing my professional tools would be a major investment I didn't have the money for. There were a few amateur grade woodworking tools in the ruins of the shed which I'd have to dig out, but they'd be good enough to fix the roof and fence, at least. But I needed to buy a load of tools if I was going to work to support RitaMae. I would have to get what work I could with the tools I had and buy things a week at a time. I guessed there'd be no shortage of work for me after a hurricane.

RitaMae reappeared fully dressed, looking delicious and happy, but still with a slight shadow of anxiety in her eyes. "I'll get rid of that, if it's the last thing I do", I silently vowed yet again.

"Go have a shower and I'll make breakfast. There's quite a lot of stuff to eat up 'cos the fridge was off for so long."

I had a long hot shower. I felt a new man when I went back to the kitchen. RitaMae had cooked scrambled eggs, toast and ham.

"Can I borrow your car, hon? I need to go and get shingles and lumber."

"I guess. If it starts. It's temperamental."

I fished in the ruins of the shed for the few tools; two planes, a couple of chisels, a hammer, screwdrivers, a square. That would have to do for now, I thought. The car fretted a bit but eventually started. As I drove around I began to realise how lucky RitaMae and I had been. Less than a quarter of a mile from us there was devastation. There were many houses that had been totally destroyed, whole blocks gone, even. There was debris and junk completely blocking some streets. I managed to gather a few shingles but there weren't many that were usable. Being conscious of RitaMae's concerns about looting I decided it would be best not to start dismantling someone's house. I drove into the centre of town to see what was happening there, but it was obvious that very few people had returned yet. Few businesses were open. I did locate a builder's supplies store, though. They seemed to have a reasonable tool section, I could see through the window. Driving on, I was beginning to work up a real sense of anger at the rednecks who'd rousted me on the road just two days before when something caught my attention in my peripheral vision. I stopped and turned the car around. Down a side street was a huge tree that had been blown over in the hurricane. Under that tree was my car!

I parked behind it and walked around it. It was definitely a goner; the roof was squashed down to the level of the seatbacks. But it looked like I could get to the boot. I clambered in between the branches and popped the boot lid. My tools were there! I transferred them to RitaMae's car feeling almost ecstatic. We carpenters become very fond of our tools. The recovery of mine meant I could work properly.

I drove on, still on a hunt for shingles. My meandering took me down a residential street where every house had been destroyed. Curiously there was an old man sitting on a suitcase outside the remains of a single-storey house. I thought I'd better stop and see if he was OK.

"Excuse me sir, but can I help you?" I asked, having drawn up behind him and got out of the car.

"No son, no-one can. But thanks for asking."

"Have you just got back?" I asked thinking how awful it must be to return to a ruin.

He looked at me curiously.

"You ain't from round here are you son? You English?"

"Yes sir, I am. Can I give you a ride somewhere?"

He laughed.

"I'm waiting here for my daughter to fetch me, son. I don't need a ride. She was supposed to come yesterday, but the storm made it impossible for her. So she's coming today."

"You were here during the hurricane?"

"I was. Don't get all melodramatic now, son. I was in my basement, safe as houses." He laughed at that while looking at the pile of rubble that used to be his house. "I had food and water."

He became silent for a short while, then he said, "Do you know that children's song about the grandfather clock, son? 'It stopped short never to go again when the old man died.' You know that?"

I said I did.

"Well, I think this is a very clear case of irony. You see, I was given just a few months to live just recently," he gestured away my attempt at sympathy, "It's life, son. I've had a good one. I was going to spend my last time on this Earth with my daughter anyway. Then this happens. My last day in my house and it falls down. Fate, do you think?"

"I'm no philosopher, sir."

He laughed, "Neither am I! What are you up to anyway?"

I explained that I needed shingles.

"Shingles? What for?"

"The lady who sheltered me suffered some damage to her house. The least I can do is fix her roof."

"And which lady might that be?"

"Mrs.Earlson."

"Sweet little RitaMae? You fixin' to get your feet under her table, son? Can't say as I blame you. If I was forty, no fifty years younger I'd be camping on her doorstep myself. Well, I hope you take good care of her. That husband of hers was a real asshole, if you'll pardon me. She's the type of girl that needs looking after, you understand me?"

"Yes sir, I do."

"Well, son as it's for RitaMae, I guess you can help yourself to as many shingles as you like from my roof there."

"That's very generous, sir."

"Well, I ain't got no use for them. Wait though. I'd better tell the Sherriff. You bein' a stranger an' all, you might be accused of lootin' You got one of them cell phones, son?"

I handed it to him, he dialled.

"Jim? It's old man Goreham. No, Jim I didn't make it out before the storm, but I'm OK. Sarah's coming for me any time now. Listen Jim, I got me a young man here. He's fixin' little RitaMae Earlson's place for her. I told him he could take my shingles. What? No, he ain't local. Hang on." He turned to me. "What's your name, son?" I told him, he told the Sherriff, then hung up and handed the phone back.

"Sherriff's comin' over. Don't worry none, he's a good man. He just likes to know who's in his town. You can get started on the shingles."

I went to the car and opened the boot. The old man wandered over.

"Those are pro tools. You a carpenter?"

"Yes sir."

"Well I guess you'll have plenty of work round here for a month or two."

"I'll be grateful for it."

I took a claw hammer and a crowbar and advanced on the house. It was easy work as the roof was at ground level! I didn't even need a ladder, so I had very quickly gathered a nice pile of shingles with very few damaged.

The Sherriff's car drew up. A surprisingly small man got out and shook hands with the old man.

"Mr Brewster. Glad you're ok. You said your daughter was coming for you?"

"Yes Jim. I'm off to Montgomery. Won't see you again."

"It's been a privilege knowing you, sir."

"Humbug. But thanks, Jim."

He walked over to me.

"I hear you're a carpenter?"

"That's right, Sherriff."

"Well, you'll be needed round here. Do you mind if I give your number to Jack Harris? He usually coordinates operations after tornados and the like. Where can I reach you?"

"I'm staying with Mrs. Earlson." I gave him my cell phone number.

"Are you now? I didn't know little RitaMae was taking in lodgers. In fact I didn't know she had more'n one bedroom. But that ain't my business I guess." He turned away, hesitated, then came back. "Rita Mae had a hard time with that loser of a husband of hers. I'd sure like to see her have a good time. You get me?"