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I pace some more, even straightening the white sheets draped over the heavy furniture, feeling almost embarrassed at the amount of dust, picking up any stray cans or bottles I find. Leftovers from years of uninvited visitors, kids mostly, trying to spook themselves.
Before I showed up.
Before I really did scare them all away.
The rain is getting heavier, and the thunder louder. I catch myself looking out of the only window I’ve left un-shuttered.
Am I really waiting for her?
I know I am. It’s all I am now… She’s all I am, and I’ve only caught a glimpse of her.
It’s all I needed to know the truth, to make sense of it all.
Just as I close the curtain for what feels like the millionth time, two beams of light cut through the darkness, broken up by some lightning. I hear the unmistakable chug of a small car struggling up the hill and I hear a low growl escape me.
A pleased, satisfied sound that fills the whole house, echoing my desire with a depth that matches my own hardness, that hasn’t lost any of its edge since she left.
But I must be fifteen years her senior. Would she really be interested in an older guy like me?
Could she really?
I don’t have time to dwell on the thought, the sound of her car pulling up right out front is my cue to hide, but I make sure the door is unlocked before I slide up the stairs, tearing myself away from the doorway I know I want to greet her at.
I hear her car stall, then the tiny door of her hatchback slam as her steps crunch across the gravel and up onto the porch,
I crouch down as best I can behind the railing of the upper floor. No mean feat, a man of my size trying to hide.
I only hope the darkness holds between the sheets of lightning, letting me be close enough to watch her but remain unseen by her.
For now.
She’s drenched again.
A different blouse and a new skirt, all wet from her short dash from her car to the house, but I don’t mind.
I see her thick chest standing stiff at attention again as she heaves her weight against the door, making it echo shut from the wind outside and thrusting us both into an eerie silence I try my hardest not to break by moaning just from the sight of her.
Fuck! She’s perfect.
Her dark hair is all slick against her glistening face. Her cheeks round and flushed with more than her effort to get out of the storm.
Her breathing is heavy and I struggle to contain my own, darting back into the shadows some more as I watch her shimmering blue eyes, wide and dark in the center as she strains to take in the view of the house at night that I know so well by now in the dark.
I know she can sense me, her breath shivers a little as she covers her chest, then a low purr escapes her lips as she stands there.
Her thick thighs seeming to glide across themselves as she stands still before a little gasp of excitement escapes her sweet lips.
Maybe she’s scared?
No, she’s not scared. She knows someone… something is here, devouring her with its eyes. The electric charge through the whole house was undeniable the moment she walked in, the moment I first saw her.
I groan involuntarily, my own hand straying to the stiff mound stretching the front of my pants. I grip myself hard in a vain attempt to quell some of my aching passion for her.
But it’s useless.
She tilts her head, hearing me… or was it the wind?
I see her asking herself that question as she struggles to move her legs apart from each other, to move around the room and finding some candles by her own flashlight, she lights up the rest of the room with the softer light.
I bite my lip to stop from moaning again.
Seeing her curves through the thin white fabric of her wet clothes is almost as much as I can take.
I hear my zipper, and in a second my hot meat is in my hand as I begin to work it furiously.
I can’t help it.
I feel a thick line of warm moisture from my tip, lubing me up and only making me feel like it belongs inside of her instead of in my hand.
I can’t… I mustn’t… It has to be for her… every drop…
Clenching my jaw, my pumping hand slows but I can’t help but try and ease some of the tension in my body through my own touch.
I need her, not my damned hand!
“Mine,” I hear myself groan loudly, feeling my balls rising up as I use all my control not to blow my load just by looking at her.
Chapter Five
Lois
It’s weird.
