A Stormi Night

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The sports drink slipped from my fingers and splashed onto the ground, just like my peace of mind when I looked at the highly pornographic pictures again and reread Helen's text. Enrique yelled something about a saw, but I barely heard him. My thumb hovered over the screen, caught between disgust and morbid fascination.

That woman had spent most of two decades treating me like something she scraped off her shoe, and now this? Fake. Had to be. But the details, the mole above her left nipple, the way Frank's wedding band glinted in the dim bedroom light, those weren't things you could Photoshop convincingly during a lunch break.

A cold sweat prickled my neck. A memory of Stormi complaining echoed in my head, "Mom's such a scheming bitch!" from that night she'd stumbled into my house, rain-soaked and furious. Bullseye!

As I stared at the pictures again, suddenly I got a call. From Helen!

I chucked the phone onto the passenger seat of my truck. Let it vibrate itself to death! FUCK her!

Whatever game Helen was playing, she dragged my brother into it. And that, that was a line even she shouldn't have crossed.

The rest of the workday blurred into hammer strikes and the bitter tang of fresh-cut lumber. My hands moved on autopilot, measuring two-by-fours, driving nails, while my mind churned. Enrique shot me an odd look when I misfired the pneumatic gun and sent a three-inch nail ricocheting off a steel bracket. "Ey, Cabrón, you tryin' kill somebody?" he joked, dodging. I forced a laugh in reply.

When I climbed in my truck to leave, a new text from Stormi blinked on my phone screen. "Hurry home! I'm SO HORNY!"

By the time I pulled into the driveway, I was half hard and the sunset had bled out behind the hills. I was hungry for food, but even hungrier for her body. Stormi's silhouette filled the doorway before I'd even cut the engine, barefoot in that pink robe, one hip cocked, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She exhaled smoke slowly as I approached, then stubbed it out on the porch railing. "Took you long enough," she murmured, fingers already working my belt buckle. The robe gaped open as she pressed against me; no panties, just the scent of vanilla body wash and something darker, muskier.

I barely got the door locked before she shoved me against it, her mouth hot and insistent. Her teeth grazed my lower lip hard enough to sting. "Fuck me like you mean it," she breathed, guiding my hand between her thighs. Slick heat greeted my fingers. "All day, thinking about you, Christ, Pete, I'm dripping! I'm gonnawreckyou for other women."

She came the first time with my tongue between her legs, her thighs clamping my ears as she arched off the couch. The second orgasm hit when I pinned her wrists and fucked her slow and deep, watching her pupils dilate. By the third, her riding me reverse-cowgirl, my hands gripping her hips, she'd gone hoarse from screaming. "Gonna fuck 'til you only think of me!" She gasped, her inner muscles fluttering around me.

I lasted longer than I expected, considering. When I finally spilled into her with a groan, she collapsed atop me, sweaty and spent. Her laughter tickled my collarbone. "Told you I'd wreck you," she murmured, trailing kisses up my neck. She went to the basement for a smoke. I made a couple of sandwiches and ate with her, then I led toward the stairs. My phone buzzed on the coffee table. Helen's name flashed.

Stormi reached for the phone as I said, "Ignore it." But the damage was done. She saw the pictures her mother sent me at lunchtime, and the new one.

Stormi's fingers froze and her facial muscles tightened. "You'refucking kidding!" The glow from my phone screen painted her face sickly blue in the mostly dark room.

Helen's latest masterpiece had her sitting on her bed, knees spread wide, pulling a long narrow dildo from her asshole! Frank was visible in a mirror, holding the phone with a surprised look on his face. Even more shocking were the two short texts which followed:

"Just let Frank play with my butt for the first time. Can't wait 'til you're in me, too. All 3 holes! See you tomorrow night, sexy!"

"From Frank - You have my permission, Bro. Enjoy!"

Stormi's face rapidly reddened. "WHAT! What theFUCK!"

I grabbed her wrist before she could smash the phone. "Doesn't matter." My voice came out rougher than intended. I picked her up and carried her upstairs.

She complained, "Of course it matters! Mom's trying to steal you! But... but why the FUCK does Dad think her cheating is okay? What the Hell!"

I laid her on the bed face-down, then climbed on, pinning her to the mattress. "Only thing that matters," I murmured against her spine, "is that I love you more than I thought possible. I want to be inside you the rest of my life." I bragged, "I'll make you cum so much you forget who and where you are."

Her rage faded as she demanded, "Prove it!"

So I did. Slow first, penetrating her wonderful poon inch by inch, taking my time, savoring her delightfully slick and tight slit.

"Faster."

I refused, maintaining my cool, making her desperate for more. A minute later she demanded, "Faster! Please, Pete!" I increased the pace of my next dozen thrusts, but only slightly. Her voice cracked, pleading, "PLEASE! Come on! Speed up and make me pop!"

Instead, I climbed off and flipped her on her back. Her body was frantic for a climax, but I slowly traced lazy circles with my tongue between her thighs. "PETE! PLEASE!" I sped up my licking and lightly rubbed her clit with a finger, pushing her over the edge. "Yaaah! URRRR!" She came and sobbed from a pleasure overdose.

Only a minute later, her legs hooked over my shoulders. I drove into her, each thrust punctuated by the wet slap of skin. I rolled us over, her riding me with the single-minded focus of a woman chasing oblivion. Her next joyous explosion ripped through her so hard she bit my shoulder to muffle the scream.

By the time I spilled inside her again, limp and spent, the house was totally dark. Stormi lay panting atop me, her long hair a tangled curtain against my chest. I followed her down to the basement, so she could have another cigarette. Outside, the first flash and "BOOM!" of a thunderstorm split the sky.

Stormi sat by the bar, one bare foot on a stool rung, while she inhaled deep. The flickering candlelight played over her curves, the swell of her breasts under the pink robe, the flare of her hips, the way her lips pursed around the filter. The slow suction as her cheeks hollowed, the way her lips moved as she expelled a cloud. Jeez! I hated the stink of it, but even exhausted, my cock twitched at the memory of those lips wrapped around me.

"Stop staring like you wanna eat me." she teased, then exhaled a plume toward the ceiling. But her smirk faltered when I stepped close, tracing her collarbone with my thumb.

"I already did." We shared a giggle.

"Can't help it." My voice came out gravelly. "Every damn thing you do is gorgeous."

She crushed her cigarette half-smoked and turned into me, her hands sliding up my chest. Our kiss tasted like tobacco and salt, the aftermath of sweat and sex. Her fingers found the waistband of my sweats, teasing, but I caught her wrist. "Baby, I'm tapped out."

Stormi laughed, low and wicked. "Liar. You're getting hard again."

"Doesn't mean I've got another round in me." I palmed her ass, squeezing. "Bed. Sleep. Then we'll see."

She smirked. "Mom wants a war?" Her voice was smooth and confident. "Bring it!"

Upstairs, tangled in sheets, she curled against me, her breath evening out. The storm rattled the windows. Another text from Helen glowed unanswered on the nightstand. Tomorrow's problems could wait.

For now, there was just her warmth, the scent of her hair, and the certainty that whatever chaos her mother unleashed, we'd face it together.

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