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The day is drawing to a close; the sun, seeping below the horizon, casts an eerie glow upon the undersides of the gathering clouds. He thinks to himself, “Looks like the weatherman was a little off in his prediction. That storm will be here a few hours earlier than originally thought. I wish I had a job where even if I was wrong 50% of the time, I’d still have a job.”
His house is nestled in the middle of a quiet, densely wooded lot. The majority of his neighbors are good, honest upstanding citizens. There homes, like his are surrounded by forest: red oaks, poplar, sweet gum, and birch trees. There’s the college counselor to the west, the over-the-road trucker and his civil service wife across the street, the gay couple to the west of the trucker, the city sewer manager and his stay-at-home wife to his east and the divorcee directly behind his house, the only neighbor whose house he could actually see..
The divorcee, Mary, had lived there with her husband for almost as long as he had. He maintained a friendly relationship with all his neighbors and they helped one another out, just like it ought to be. As he observed the weather outside, he noticed something not quite right with the clouds; the color didn’t look right. The approaching cold front also had an up sweeping warm front travelling perpendicular to the cold front’s path. This was squeezing the moist humid air ahead of the cold front. Even though it is only March on the east coast, a severe thunderstorm and even the occasional twister are not unheard of. The weather man had warned of the chance of thunder snow and a possible low forming off the coast of NC that could turn into a nor’easter. The announcement of the winter storm warning on the TV snapped him back from his thoughts.
He’s glad he had that storm room built in the basement two years ago. It’s fully stocked shelves included: long shelf-life milk, water, food, queen size bed, blankets, those boot warmers filled with some sort of iron filings that produced heat when exposed to air, everything one needed to remain warm, and safe until help could arrive. It was expensive, but the insurance policy took care of that, though he really missed her. His wife had passed away due to breast cancer that had metastasized to her brain and liver. By the time she was diagnosed with the aggressive breast cancer, it was already too late.
Now, two years later, months of therapy and pouring himself into his work, he was finally feeling comfortable asking women out. He’d even dated the divorcee several times in the last month. She was close in age, nearly 40, and kept herself neatly. Though she kept a busy schedule, she still took time to work-out. She was trying güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri to rid herself of the last 20 pounds, but they were the stubborn type, not willing to budge. He didn’t care though; she was attractive, had a great sense of humor and was very intelligent. She had her engineering degree and that gave them a lot in common to talk about.
The storm had him concerned. It had all the makings of the perfect storm. Thunder, lightning, wind, followed up by copious amounts of snow, were forecast for the peninsula. That basement room was looking better all the time. He called Mary to see if she had heard about the storm warning yet, “Mary, you hear about the winter storm warning yet?”
Her reply, “Yes I did. I just got back from WalMart and I have all I need.”
His concern showing through, “The part that worries me, is the approaching wild weather first and then the snow; they’ve even hinted at the possibility of high straight line winds or a tornado before the snow.”
“I didn’t hear that part; that worries me some.”
Ever the gentleman, “Would you like me to come over there with you?”
“Actually, would it be ok if I came over to your place? I’d feel safer knowing we could always retreat to your storm room.”
Elated, he said, “Sure, no problem; I was going to ask you that but didn’t want to appear to be too forward.”
Reassuring him she said, “You have never been forward with me; always the perfect gentleman. I feel safe around you and, well, something more. But we can talk about that when I get over there.”
“Ok, I’ll see you soon.”
He was beginning to feel a tingling in his loins as he mulled over her last statement, “…and, well, something more.” Though in his mid 40’s, he wasn’t dead yet. He had imagined himself in a serious relationship with Mary and could see it happening. It would just take time, as they both had suffered a great loss. The only reason she was able to keep her home after the divorce was because he had gone to prison for underage rape and she had a very good government job as a bridge engineer.
The slight knock on the door announced her arrival as she walked in. He greeted her with a hug and they settled together on the couch entranced by the radar on the weather channel. The two fronts and the forming low were all beginning to form an ominous scene. Already the lightning was beginning to flash and the low rumble of thunder could be felt more than heard. The next rumble made her move a little closer to him. He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, displaying his protective side.
They began to discuss the possibilities, and scenarios; when they might güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri have to use the shelter and what to expect. In the midst of their discussion, the fire whistle blew, and an immediate message flashed on the TV. A tornado warning had been issued and his quiet neighborhoods lie directly in its path. It was being described as an F2 tornado already and forecast to strengthen to at least an F3 if not more. Turning the TV off, they retreated to the storm room.
He remarked, “An F3, here? This is usually an F!/F2 area, not F3. I hope it misses us, but better safe than sorry. At least we’ll be safe down here.”
Her frightened reply, “I’m so glad I came over hear. I really wouldn’t know what I’d do at home, alone.”
Down to the basement and into the room they went. It would remind you of the movie “Panic Room”. The sliding door, thick walls, everything one would need to survive nearly any attack; foreign, domestic, or natural. He tuned the radio into the NOAA station and turned the volume down so that they could monitor it, yet still converse.
The constant updates informed them of the tornado’s path and the fact that it was still going to threaten their years of hard work and toil. Their only solace was that they were safe, and with each other. They could hear the roar, like a freight train. The low rumble wasn’t thunder, but rather the storm’s destructive howl. Holding tightly on to each other as the sounds of ripping lumber, exploding glass, and shrieking, howling winds surrounded them, they found comfort in the safety the room offered them.
As the roar subsided, he cautiously opened the door, and saw more light than what should have been available. The floor above was gone, as was the roof, but the east wall remained and so did the north and south walls. Just then a bolt of lightning crashed into his western neighbor’s electric box, sending sparks and shrapnel everywhere, and snow began falling. Retreating back into the safe room, he remarked, “It’s going to be a long stay here until help can arrive. You know the county, our back roads are always the last to be plowed and with all the destruction and now the falling snow, well, I’m glad you’re here.”
It might not be the right time, but what did you mean by, “I feel safe around you and, well, something more.”
Blushing, wishing she hadn’t tipped her hand, she began to explain herself, “I remember I moved in here and I saw how you treated your wife. I wished to myself that my husband would treat me like that. You honestly, selflessly loved her and her, you. Then life cruelly took her from you and I watched as you worked through your grief. During güvenilir bahis şirketleri that time, I had my own battles and betrayals. Now, with both of us on the other side of our woes, we have come together both as neighbors and friends to encourage one another. I want more. I want to go a little further with you, but didn’t know if it would be considered forward to say so.”
Overwhelmed by her honesty and straightforwardness he quietly began his reply, “I too, want more. Not out of pity, or consolation, but out of growing love for you. Not that I rejoice in this storm, but I am glad you are here. I’m glad I get to share this time of tragedy with you, of all the people in my life, it’s you I thought of when the storm was announced.”
Just then, the radio blurted out, “The winter storm warning has been upgraded to a blizzard warning. The tornado threat has passed, and crews have been dispatched to assist the survivors, but the falling snow is impeding their progress. If you have safe shelter, please denote this on your property by displaying a black cloth on your front door. Rescue crews will note this and return to you last after all others have been helped.”
He tells her, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to mark my door, if that’s ok with you.”
The glow in her eyes tells him, without words, that she is fine with this, “please do.”
His return in 4 minutes and the story he has to tell is heart rending, “My house is a shell; the trucker’s place is gone, as is the gay couple’s. Your house looks like mine, a shelled out ghost of its former self. I’m so sorry. I know you worked hard on that place and it was beautiful.”
The façade began to crumble as reality set it. Her frame began to shake as the sobs started. He sat beside her and held her, until the sobbing subsided. Misunderstanding her crying he said, “It’s ok, it’s just a house, and the property can be rebuilt.”
Correcting him she said, “…no, it’s not that. I’m just touched by your empathy, by the love you just showed me in both your body language and words. I don’t deserve a man of your caliber, and yet here you are, in the midst of your own loss, comforting me and seeing to my safety.”
He didn’t mean it to happen, but it did, his lips meeting hers as they turned to face each other. The hunger in the kiss, the searching tongues, the tight embrace, all escalating quickly into an all out free for all. Clothing removed and strewn about the safe room, saliva trails down her neck, on her breasts, over her navel and finally ending between her legs. The shrieks of ecstasy as he brought her to orgasm time and again; their impassioned love-making after the maelstrom of the foreplay, all were a portrayal of the storm outside, though they didn’t see it. The hours ticked by as made love and shared themselves. Two days later, after rescue workers arrived to assist them, they were still locked in their embrace, not wanting to be disturbed, yet knowing they must leave and begin their new lives, together.
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