Orphans Of The Storm - Sex Stories

Orphans Of The Storm

... and hear the thunder moving further away. "Oh, that's a shame, I think it's going to stop raining." she says. She was right, the hot sun breaks free from behind the clouds, and quickly heats the wet ground. We watch fascinated as the steam whispers upwards from the tarmac road, moving in little billowing clouds like ghostly partners in some imaginary line dance. A humid stillness takes over, replacing the powerful drama with a frightening silence. As if someone has pressed a button on the remote control, and changed the channel. Nothing moves, the trees have become statues, and I can no longer hear the ever present call of the gulls down by the nearby Mississippi. It captures our crazy intimate moment perfectly, and I rub my finger gently over the delicate skin on the back of her hand. I haven't felt like this in a long time; I want to kiss her and to hold her in my arms, and tell her how I feel. Yet, I'm too scared. It all seems too good to be true. Nobody falls in love at first sight do they? Except maybe in the movies. Am I being ridiculous, perhaps she's always this tactile; I'm almost old enough to be her father for god's sake. "My folks are dead," she quietly says, as if it was an everyday observation. "My mum died seven years ago. Why are people always dying Peter?" I don't know what to say, I was never great at sharing my emotions. However, my struggle with her question doesn't trouble me for long, because a frightening noise suddenly fills the heavy air and changes ...

... everything. "Oh my god," she yells. "Quick, we need to go inside!" "What's going on, what's that awful noise?" I reply, I could tell she was genuinely scared. "It's the tornado siren." I grab our beers and we run into the lounge. Tornadoes were something my mum often told me about, but I just thought it was another of her drunken stories. Like the time she claimed she'd seen big foot. I hadn't noticed her tears until she stopped and turned, her eyes full of what I thought was fear. "I'm sure we'll be safe inside," I say, trying to be reassuring. "I'll push a mattress in front of the door, and we'll shelter under the table. I've seen the video's, it'll be ok. Please don't cry." I'm not convinced I really know what I'm talking about, but it sounds good anyway. She looks into my eyes, "I miss her so much." Her sods coming in quick breathless gulps. Did she move first or was it me? I'm not sure. All I know is that she feels good in my arms. I pull matted strands of damp hair away from her face, and wipe away her tears with my soft fingers. I know her desolation; like mine, it's completely overwhelming. "It's ok Maria, I know how you feel. It's awful when you lose them, I miss ' my' mum too." Her mouth meets mine and I respond without hesitation, like the storm her energy is uncontrollable. I feel her tongue slip beyond my teeth and my hand runs down her body as I pull her close. Sobs turn into heavenly sighs, encouraging and enticing me. Hot lips travel to my cheek and down my ...