Every Time It Rainsbyrgjohn©
For many people, a rainy day can be sad or depressing. To me, a rainy day always brings back a particular memory that was scorched into my brain many years ago. Maybe because the memory is so sweet...
It was September 1992 and I was traveling on Route 70 somewhere between St. Charles Missouri and Kansas City... in an area called "Tornado Alley". It had been a glorious day, up to that point, with little sign of the storm clouds to come. As I sped down the highway, I didn't have a care in the world. I watched the seemingly endless stream of telephone poles fly by in a blur. I pressed the gas pedal to the floor in an attempt to defy time and space. I was in a hurry... a hurry to grasp life and live it to the fullest. I was headed for college after being discharged from the military, where I had spent time in the Middle East during the first Iraq war. The war hadn't lasted long, but it had nonetheless left a lasting impression on me. It taught me that life is fragile and fleeting... with no guarantees of tomorrow.
I had made good progress by evening and although the sun was rapidly disappearing over the horizon, I decided to drive for a few more hours. However, from across the plains I saw a storm developing. The puffy clouds grew dark as they rolled toward me, quickly turning from white to an angry gray. The rain started slowly, but within minutes was pouring down in buckets. Water dripped from a hole in the canvas roof of my old Jeep CJ7 and onto the back of my shirt.
A few minutes later, without warning, the rain turned to hail. The hard pebbles of ice pelted the windshield like stones, threatening to burst through. The gusting wind suddenly whipping across the open fields made it difficult to hold the old Jeep on the road. The wipers, which desperately needed replacing, were totally ineffective. The clouds had turned black and ominous. It was only 8 P.M., but could have been midnight. I was a city boy from Philadelphia and never experienced the kind of dangerous storms that blew up without warning in these Mid-Western plains.
Still, I was undeterred. At twenty-three years old and full of self-importance, I was finally headed for college and a storm wasn't going to stop me. I was a bit old to be starting college. I was one of "those" people that had joined the Army to obtain money for college. My parents were too poor to afford it and my grades were not worthy of a scholarship. My three-year stint in the Army, while often dangerous during the war, was ultimately rewarding. I had gathered enough money to attend UNLV and was already late getting there. The school had graciously made an exception for me since I couldn't get out of the Army until the end of August. I planned to drive all weekend in order to be there by Monday morning.
Suddenly as the storm worsened, I realized that I was in the middle of nowhere and questioned my rash decision to continue driving. I swerved on the road, fighting for control of the Jeep. Fortunately, the road was flat and straight or I would have surely run into a ditch. My bravado quickly vanished as I strained to see past the hood of the Jeep. The storm now scared me and I was about to pull off the road when I saw a speck of light ahead. I was hoping I had found civilization. As I drew closer, I could see that it was but a sign for a small roadside caf‚/diner. It seemed to appear out of nowhere. With great relief I pulled into the almost empty parking lot, wondering if the restaurant was open. But it was Saturday night and the lights were on.
I opened the door of my Jeep and jumped out and into a puddle of water, almost to my ankles. By the time I rushed up the steps and into the caf‚, my hair and clothes were soaked. My Army green tee shirt was plastered to my chest. My jeans were wet and dripping water onto the floor around me.
"My, my, look what the cat drug in," I heard from behind the counter and then a laugh.
I saw a pretty woman, who looked to be in her mid-thirties, with short blonde hair, leaning on the counter. She had a friendly, if sardonic, expression on her face. Her blue eyes sparkled and her face lit up with her smile. I figured I might be the first customer she had seen all week.
"It's raining buckets out there. Are you open?" I asked stupidly.
"Everyday but Sunday. Would be then too except folks go to church on Sunday mornings around here."
I ran my hands across my still short military hair, pushing the water to the back and down my neck. I shook my hands, flinging more water onto the floor.
"Here, this should help."
Suddenly, the pretty woman was standing in front of me with a clean dishtowel in her hand.
"It's all I have in the restaurant."
"Thanks," I said, gratefully taking the towel and wiping my head and face, then my hands. "Sorry to get your floor wet."
"No problem, the linoleum can be mopped up."
The pretty woman's eyes sized me up and down before she said with a laugh, "You look like a drowned rat. Have a seat and I'll get you a cup of coffee."
"Thanks," I said and stared after her, watching the sway of her hips. She was wearing a white waitress uniform that hugged her trim waist and hips, showing the faint hint of her panty line. I shook my head clear and sat down at a booth overlooking the parking lot. The rain continued to pour down relentlessly, covering the parking lot with several inches of water.
"Rains a lot like that around here in late summer," the waitress said as she sat a steaming cup of coffee in front of me.
"Never seen anything like it." Thunder shook the windows and a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. The lights flash and threatened to go out. I looked up apprehensively.
"We have a generator out back if the lights go out."
"Good," I said as I glanced around the diner. There wasn't anything fancy about the place but it seemed to have warmth to it. There was a long counter with padded stools running the length of the room. Then there were ten or so plastic and metal booths next to the windows. It appeared that someone had taken great care to make the place look like something out of the 50's. There was even an old jukebox at the end of the room. Maybe the place had been around since the 50's, I thought.
"All original d‚cor," the pretty waitress said, answering my unasked question. "The diner's been in my family for several generations."
"Very nice," I answered. I looked out the window again as the wind blew harder.
"The weather service has a tornado warning out. I have to keep the radio on," the waitress said, nodding toward a radio playing in the background.
"Heard about tornadoes, but I've never seen one."
The waitress laughed and said, "And you don't want to either."
"What do we do if there is one?" I asked, with a worried look on my face.
"We'll be okay. We have a storm cellar."
I almost sighed with relief.
"Can I get you something to eat?"
I saw her name badge for the first time. "Stacey" was on a gold plate pinned to her uniform. I also noticed for the first time that she was well endowed. I found myself staring at the opening of her uniform where I could see a hint of the soft swells of her breasts. When I made eye contact, I knew she had seen me staring. However, her smile didn't change.
"Uh... what?" I asked.
"Do you want something to eat? I was planning on sending our cook home, but she can rustle up something for you. We're not exactly packed tonight."
"Thank you Stacey. Anything would be great. I haven't eaten since this morning."
"Meat loaf and mashed potatoes... our specialty, coming right up." She turned away.
"I'm Rory James," I said.
The waitress stopped and turned back to me with a smile. "Roy?"
"That's an interesting name."
"My mom wanted something different."
"I love it." She held out her hand and stepped back toward me. "Pleased to meet you Rory James. I'm Stacey Allen."
I took her soft hand in mine and squeezed it. A sudden and unexpected shock went through me. Maybe it was static electricity from the storm. I could see that Stacey had felt it too. We paused, looking at each other.
"I need my hand back if I am going to put in your order."
My face turned red and I quickly let go of her hand. "Sorry."
"You're cute," she said and went behind the counter.
I quickly sipped my coffee to hide my blush.
Stacey yelled through the opening into the kitchen, "Macy, need an order for meatloaf and mashed potatoes before you go please."
I continued to watch the rain for a few minutes until a soft hand sat a plate of steaming food in front of me. I looked up and saw Stacey smiling at me again. "Thank you," I said, suddenly famished. With military precision I dug into the food.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked.
"Mmmmm, no," I mumbled with a mouth full of food and gesturing with the fork for her to sit across from me. Military life hadn't exactly helped my manners... at least not at the dinner table.
Stacey sat down with a cup of coffee and watched me eat.
I engulfed the delicious food. A few minutes later the plate was empty.
"My, but you were hungry," Stacey said in astonishment.
"Sorry," I answered sheepishly. "That was delicious," I added.
"Macy is a great cook, even if it pains me to say so." A wry smile crossed her face. "Old coot," she whispered in a conspiratorial tone.
"So what brings you out in this no-man's land?"
I wiped my mouth and took a quick drink of coffee. "Headed for college... UNLV."
"Nevada... that's wonderful. You a gambler?"
"No, not really. Played a little poker in Iraq to pass the time, but I never liked to gamble."
"What are you going to major in, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Not at all. I was thinking of business... finance."
"I always wanted to go to college," Stacey said wistfully as she looked out the window.
I saw something in her eyes. It was almost sad. Maybe a dream lost.
I smiled and said, "Maybe you could just quit this job and run off to Nevada with me." It was supposed to be funny, but I quickly realized that it missed the mark.
Stacey didn't smile. "Can't very well quit. I own this place and my husband and I run it." She looked around the room with a sad expression.
I hadn't seen a ring. "Oh, you're married."
"For fifteen years. Can't wear a ring around the kitchen... had an employee lose a finger once."
"Didn't know it was that dangerous working in a diner," I said with a smile. "Any children?" I asked. I saw another sad look cross her pretty face. I knew that I had hit a nerve and wanted to take my question back. Suddenly I was afraid that she was going to leave. I was enjoying her company.
It took a moment for her to answer. It appeared that she was holding back tears.
"No, not yet." Then she quickly changed the subject. "Want some more meatloaf?"
My smile returned. "Please."
Macy was coming out of the kitchen taking off her apron. "Macy, you got any meatloaf left?" The older woman looked at me and said, "Got a hungry one here, huh?" She smiled and I saw a few missing teeth. "You ain't from around here are you?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Too cute to be from these parts."
For a moment I thought that she was going to come over and pat me on the head.
"Stop Macy, you'll make him blush. Besides, he's mine."
Another smile crossed the old woman's face. She winked at me. "I think there's a little left," she said. "Well, you two have fun. I'm going home and gettin in my storm cellar before this storm carries me to Kansas or some other foreign place. Goodnight."
"Follow the yellow brick road," Stacey said.
"Huh?" Macy said with a look of confusion.
Stacey shook her head. "Goodnight Macy. See you Monday morning."
With that, the old woman went out the door. I saw her hurrying to her car with her pocketbook over her head as if that would keep her dry. When she pulled out of the lot, it appeared that only Stacey's car and my Jeep remained.
Stacey came back a few minutes later with another plate of food. She sat it down in front of me and took her seat again.
"Thank you," I said. I looked at her as she leaned on the table with her arms folded, pushing her breasts upward. I felt a little chill go through me. A button on her uniform had come undone and I could see a large expanse of her breasts and the frilly bra holding them up. I gulped and turned my head down to my plate, wondering if the button had slipped open or if she had undone it.
"So you grew up in the east? A city boy huh?"
I looked at her and tried to keep my eyes on her face. It was next to impossible. Within seconds I could see that her nipples were hard and poking through the uniform. "Yes, a city boy from Philadelphia," I said.
Stacey reached over and patted my hand gently.
I almost trembled at the soft touch of her hand.
"We don't hold grudges against city slickers," she said and smiled.
I returned her smile and said, "Good."
We talked for a long time. I told her more than I usually reveal about myself. She seemed to have the knack for getting it out of me. Besides that, she seemed almost desperate for news from the outside world. I guess they didn't have a national newspaper or CNN.
"How about a piece of pie?" Stacey offered when we took a break from the conversation.
"Thanks, but I have to get going."
"Oh no you're not. There's no way you can drive in this storm. You don't know how lucky you were to find this place. You'll have to stay here until it's over."
"I have to get to the University by Monday morning," I almost whined.
"If you go out in this, you won't get there at all. I'm sure the college will be there when you get to Las Vegas."
"But you have to close and get home to your husband," I protested weakly, secretly delighted that I could stay a little longer.
"My husband is out of town and I often sleep here when he isn't home. There's no hurry to close," she said as she retrieved a large piece of apple pie and brought it over to me.
I engulfed it and sat back, feeling like a pig. "You're pretty," I said.
It was Stacey's turn to blush. "Would you like me to put the jukebox on?"
"That would be nice. How long do you suppose the storm will last?"
"Hard to tell. They can come and go quickly or last for days. The worst part should be over by morning."
"Morning!" I almost screamed.
"I can get you some blankets and a pillow. You can curl up in one of the booths."
I groaned. Still, I had slept in worse places. "I'm sorry. I really appreciate your hospitality... it's just that... that... oh shit, the school was so nice is making an exception for me."
"Don't worry, they won't kick you out if you are a few hours late."
"I guess you're right."
Stacey went over to the jukebox and put several quarters into the slot. The first song that came on was 'The Righteous Brothers' "Unchained Melody".
"Dance with me," she said, holding out her hand.
I looked at her with surprise.
"Come on," she encouraged.
I stood up nervously. "I haven't danced since my senior prom."
"That must have been... oh five years ago?" she guessed.
"Yes, about," I answered suddenly embarrassed to be only twenty-three.
"At least you've danced. I can't ever get my husband to dance."
Suddenly I was in her arms, surrounded by a sweet perfume that I hadn't noticed before. It had been a long time since I had held a woman like this. Stacey felt good in my arms. Her perfume and warm body against mine made my head spin. Unfortunately, it only took a few seconds for my excitement to show. I tried to pull my hips back, but Stacey's followed.
She obviously felt my predicament and looked into my eyes with what I could only describe as a naughty smile.
"Been a while huh?" she stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
My face turned three shades of red. "I... I'm sorry." I tried to pull away again.
Stacey pulled me back to her and placed her head on my shoulder. "No need to be sorry," she whispered. "It's been a long time since I created a reaction like that in a man."
I started to say that she probably created it in every man that visited the restaurant, but words failed me. We danced around the floor, careful to avoid the barstools and the booths. I finally relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of her soft body pressed to mine. Before we knew it, we had danced to all the songs that she had played with her quarters. When the music stopped, we kept moving.
After a long while, Stacey pulled away and looked into my eyes. "It gets really lonely here sometimes."
I barely heard her words. Like a magnet my lips were drawn to hers. A charge of electricity was set off in the room that matched the lightning outside. I felt the pretty woman melt into my arms. I squeezed her tight, my tongue searching her mouth. I heard her moan and felt her hips pressing forward. My cock was as hard as it had been when we first started dancing.
When my hand reached between us to grasp her breast, she stopped me. I thought that it was over, but was surprised when she smiled and began to slip down my body. I watched with eyes wide as she went to her knees. I saw her fingers trembling as she began to unsnap my jeans.
"I don't do this to every stranger that comes in here," she said as if she had read my mind.
"Uh... no... uh... I'm sure..." I stuttered as I watched her pull my zipper down. A second later her hand slipped into the opening. Her fingers searched for my cock. Another moan escaped my lips when I felt her warm hand wrap around me. It took a minute for her to negotiate the hard shaft out of my underwear and into the open.
"Oh my," she gasped. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at my rampant erection, just inches from her face. The swollen head had a bubble of clear juice on it, which she licked off with a flick of her tongue. Her eyes closed it pleasure.
My legs trembled.
She held my cock in her hand and pumped it with her fist. More juice streamed out and she licked it up, groaning deep in her throat.
Everything seemed surreal. I couldn't believe that I was standing in the middle of the diner, in front of open windows, with this gorgeous woman about to suck my cock. She could see the shock on my face.
"Don't worry; nobody is out in this storm."
I looked outside and saw the rain still coming down hard. I was beginning to like the rain. "Ahhhh!!!" I gasped as I felt Stacey's mouth cover the swollen head of my cock. I reached out instinctively and grabbed her head. I head her moan deep in her throat again.
It had been a while since I had had sex and the excitement of the moment consumed me. I threw my head back and looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of baseball, my friends still overseas, anything to avoid climaxing so soon. My hips began to push forward, forcing the shaft deep into her throat. I moaned and looked down to see that she had taken my entire cock into her throat. I began to tremble all over.
Stacey grabbed my hips and pulled me tightly to her, my balls touching her chin. Then she pulled back, allowing most of my shaft to slip out. She took it deep again.
I felt the large head of my cock reach the breach of her throat and pause each time before slipping in. Her throat muscles worked on the head like a warm glove milking me. My breath was coming in gasps when she let me slip out again. Her hand wrapped around my now wet cock and began to pump it. Her soft lips sucked the swollen head. I hissed through clenched teeth, "God, if you keep that up, I'm going to cum."
I heard another moan and her hand began to move faster. My legs trembled and threatened to give out. I could feel the cum building in my balls. My head began to spin as my hips pushed forward. I froze. A wave of incredible pleasure rushed over me. With a loud moan, juice began to squirt from the head of my cock like a fire hose.