Heat Lightening

This story combines spirituality and eroticism. If that combination bothers you, skip this one. It's fiction, and no real people or places are depicted. Thanks for checking out my stories.

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It was Springtime. A postcard perfect Sunday morning. The voices of a small choir drifted out of the open windows of a small wood-frame church and mixed with the chirps of boisterous robins nesting on a hand-painted sign above the door. SILVERFISH COUNTY COMMUNITY CHURCH, it read.

A young man walked in and was seated by the elderly usher, and the service began. It was short and sweet, with some lovely hymns sung, and the young man's voice was sweet and pure, helping to make the music soar on that beautiful morning.

"As we leave today," the pastor said in his closing remarks, "let's take a moment to greet the new friend who has joined us today." He gestured toward the young man, who smiled softly and nodded slightly. "Go peacefully my friends, and rejoice."

The choir lifted it's voices, and goosebumps covered the young man's arms. The goosebumps felt good on his body — he loved the feeling of beautiful music affecting him physically.

He was an unusual looking man — milky white skin, light grey eyes, and whitish blonde hair that was soft and wavy. He had been called an 'albino' before, but he wasn't one, not genetically anyway. His name was Angelo, and he spoke with an accent no one around Silverfish had heard before. When anyone asked him where he was from, 'across the sea' was the answer he gave.

"So nice to have you with us today" the pastor said, "I'm William." He was shaking the young man's hand on the front steps as people where leaving the church. The nesting robins were agitated by all the commotion and chirping wildly.

"Thank you William," Angelo said. "I'm very glad to be here. You have a lovely church."

"What brings you to Silverfish?" the pastor asked.

"I'm here to paint. I've rented a cottage from Mr. Biddeford for a while."

"Oh, the place up on the cliff. Beautiful spot. Yes, there's been artists up there before," the pastor said. "As I'm sure you've noticed, we're a long way from civilization up here in these mountains, so if you need anything, this is the place to come. The nearest doctor's almost a hundred miles away, but there's some fine, caring folks around here, and I can help you find any help you might need."

"Thank you William," Angelo said, and he made his way down the old steps and back up the mountain to his cottage.

The following three Sundays Angelo attended the small church, and the week after that he was absent. Pastor William, who had grown fond of Angelo, loved to hike in the mountains, and decided to walk the Cliff Mountain trail and stop by the cottage to check in on the young man.

"Angelo, are you here?" he said loudly as he approached the cottage on the twisting path.

"Come in William," Angelo said quietly from inside as the pastor reached the old screen door.

Angelo was laying naked on an old mohair couch, with a small, dingy white towel draped across his mid-section. His face and chest glistened with perspiration.

"I'm sorry I missed your service yesterday," he said. "I'm afraid I'm a bit under the weather."

Pastor William felt his forehead and asked his symptoms. He fed Angelo a sandwich, gave him a small bottle of aspirin from the first-aide kit he always carried in his small hiking backpack, and told him someone would be up the next day to check on him.

"Thank you William," Angelo said as the pastor left, and he drifted off to sleep.

———————

Early the next morning a woman arrived at the cottage. A widow, named Brenda, she had lived in the community all of her fifty years. Her husband had died in a car crash twenty years ago, and she hadn't had even a single date with a man since then, instead giving all her energy to community events and the informal garden club that tended the church grounds and a few other public areas.

"Come in Brenda," Angelo said when she reached his door. He was still on the couch, looking much the same. "You look lovely this morning."

She was surprised he knew her name, but assumed Pastor William had told him. There was just enough space for Brenda to sit on the edge of the couch cushion next to Angelo's reclining body. She put a thermometer in his mouth and her hand landed casually on his naked thigh, just inches from his towel covered crotch. Neither of them gave it a thought.

"You've quite a fever Angelo. Not dangerous, but we'll have to keep an eye on it. It's odd there are no other symptoms though."

"I've been sleeping a lot, but I feel quite well."

"Fevers aren't anything to take lightly. I'll stay with you today, and we'll keep track of it, if you'd like me to."

Yes Brenda, thank you," Angelo said.

"It's good that you're uncovered — the heat needs to get out. Sleep for a while, and then we'll get you cleaned up."

Angelo slept. Brenda admired his paintings of the nearby forest — small little jewel-like creations, painted with extreme detail, like nothing she had ever seen. She sat on the porch overlooking the valley and remembered the time she and her husband had rented the cliff top cottage on their tenth wedding anniversary — they made love right where she was sitting while a hawk soared in big circles just below them.

When Angelo woke Brenda took his temperature again, and then she sponged him off with cool water from a metal bowl. She started with the smooth, perfect skin of his face, a peaceful face with soft eyes. She gently washed his neck and shoulders, and then his smoothly muscular chest, replacing the glistening perspiration with a clean dampness behind the sponge. She worked her way methodically down to his slim waist, and lifted the small towel off of him to continue, placing it on the back of the couch. His sudden nakedness didn't register on either of their faces — it seemed completely natural, like they had both been together like this their whole lives. Brenda squeezed out the sponge in the cool water and continued her cleaning, moving below Angelo's belly button to the very tops of his muscular legs. He spread his legs slightly and she cleaned the baby-soft flesh of his inner thighs. His penis, which had grown slightly larger as she approached, brushed lightly against the back of her hand and felt even warmer than the rest of him. She worked her way down one leg, and then back up the other, to the point where the back of her hand brushed his penis again. She took it in her left hand and lifted the weight of it while she sponged his large scrotum, spending plenty of time getting the soft sack clean with the cool water. Angelo's penis grew in her hand while she worked, and when his balls where clean it had reached full size, extending well beyond her hand and swelling in girth enough that she couldn't wrap her fingers all the way around it. Still the two of them acted as if nothing unusual was happening. Brenda, as casual as if she was cleaning the kitchen counter, wrapped the sponge around the big hard cock and began an up and down motion to clean it. A few rivulets of water squeezed out of the sponge and dripped down the hard, meaty shaft, running around the base of it and dripping down into the crack of Angelo's ass.

Brenda put the sponge in the bowl, and as if drawn by an unseen force lowered her mouth onto Angelo's hard cock. It filled her mouth with heat, and ever so slowly she moved her head up and down, her mouth filling and emptying, filling and emptying, filling and emptying. The two of them moaned quietly as the fellatio progressed, and after a good long while Brenda stopped. They smiled at each other silently, and she stood and disrobed, folding her conservative clothes carefully and placing them on a chair as Angelo watched. When she was in nothing but the skin she was born in, she climbed onto Angelo and with neither of them touching it his long, hard rod slid up into her, filling her inner being with light. Forgotten sensations cascaded through all the nerves of her body as she sat on him, gyrating slowly and smoothly, like a ballet dancer. The inner light in her grew in intensity, brighter and brighter, until she was blinded by it and the real world vanished. The light carried her up to the heavens, and she saw her husband there. He smiled and so did she — a smile so big it took over her whole body. A big, shining smile, gyrating slowly and smoothly on a cock made of polished gold. Deep within her it fired off colored beams of light, and they bounced off the insides of her, reflecting and breaking apart, like a kaleidoscope. Her husband looked at her and nodded, the way he used to do when he was pleased with her. The colored lights grew more intense until she couldn't see him any more. She sighed a deep, long, satisfying sigh as the lights inside her gradually dimmed, and her eyes slowly opened.

Angelo smiled up at her as his cock softened, and she stood up and dressed in the slow methodical way she always does. When all her conservative clothes were back in place, she sat next to Angelo and cleaned his soft penis again with the cool sponge.

"Sleep for a while, and then I'll make you something to eat," Brenda said calmly, as if nothing had happened.

She took the bowl to the kitchen, rinsed it out, and went back to the porch while Angelo slept. A hawk circled in front of her, having risen up from the valley on a thermal near the cliff, and squealed as it drifted off on the morning breeze.

———————

"I'm surprised your temperature hasn't gone down," Brenda said as she looked at the thermometer. It was early evening and she had stayed with Angelo all day, feeding him lunch and dinner, but mostly watching him sleep. He seemed perfectly normal except for the fever. "I'm going to go, but someone will be here in the morning to check on you," she said.

Angelo slept peacefully, but woke in a sweat again the next morning. A woman named Pamela knocked at the door not long after sunrise.

"Hello Pamela," Angelo said. "Please come in."

She wondered how he knew who she was through the closed door. Brenda had told her that Angelo 'seemed to know things', and also that he was a 'wonderful, peaceful man'. Pamela had talked to him briefly at the church, but didn't know him well.

"How's your fever Angelo? You look as though you've been perspiring."

"I have been yes. I'm feeling better though," Angelo said.

He was laying on the old couch, completely naked, the way Brenda had left him. Pamela, like Brenda, seemed to think nothing of it, and she sat next to him and her hand fell casually to his inner thigh, just as Brenda's had. She took his temperature, brushed back his hair with her fingers and gazed into his light grey eyes. No words were spoken, but looking into his eyes seemed to lessen the gravity in the room, and Pamela felt as if she was floating as she read the thermometer and smiled.

Pamela's casualness with Angelo's nudity was surprising because she was terrified at the thought of sex with a man. It started when she was a teenager, and two consecutive boyfriends had treated her bad sexually. It was enough to turn her off of men and sex, at least temporarily, but time passed and the feelings reinforced themselves, and before she knew it she was what used to be called a 'spinster'. Being in the company of and casually touching a naked man should have been frightening, and was completely out of character for her, and yet on this day with Angelo she acted like it was a common daily occurrence.

"I think if we get you cleaned up and fed you'll be getting back to normal," Pamela said.

"Normal?" Angelo asked, with his bright eyes twinkling.

"Do you have the energy for a shower?" Pamela asked.

"Yes, I think so," he said.

Pamela stood and casually took of her clothes — even more conservative attire than what Brenda wore. She draped them on the arm of the old couch by Angelo's feet, and when she had removed her stodgy looking bra and panties she extended her hands to Angelo, and pulled him gently to his feet. She walked hand-in-hand with the tall, perfectly sculpted naked man, onto the porch overlooking the valley and down the steps on the side of it. There, on the side of the cottage, was an outdoor shower. All the tenants who rented the old place commented on how they loved the outdoor shower. It was made private from the walkway and the front door of the old place with a section of cedar fence, but it was wide open to the sky and the vast wilderness that stretched out below the cliff top that the cottage was perched on, and the feeling of being at one with nature as you showered was new and wonderful to most people who used it. Pamela had used it years ago, when she spent a week at the cottage with her young niece and nephew, bonding with the two children as if they were her own.

Pamela turned on the faucets, and pulled a wooden bench under the water for Angelo to sit on. The water cascaded down his nearly white hair, and down his smooth, kind face onto his body, making his masculine shape shimmer in the morning sunlight. Pamela washed his hair, and then used a soapy washcloth to clean him from the top down, every square inch of him got attention and was left squeaky clean. His penis had grown as she cleaned it, and was a fully hard cock by the time she finished. She stood up, very close to Angelo, between his legs, and washed herself as he watched. For no reason known to her she had turned to face him, water cascading down over her shoulders as she soaped her body, her hands sliding through the slippery bubbles over her voluptuous tits and down between her legs. She paid particular attention to cleaning between the lips of her vagina, her soapy fingers working slowly at first, and then more vigorously. As she worked her eyes were locked on Angelo's, and she felt the gravity disappear again. Her body moved effortlessly and she straddled his legs on the wooden seat. His upright cock found her opening with no help from either of them, and her sense of gravity returned, just enough to sink down and be filled, filled with the same inner light Brenda had seen and felt. Pamela was facing the valley, looking over Angelo's shoulder, gazing out over the edge of the cliff and seeing it all in a different way. The fresh bright green of spring leaves on millions of trees overwhelmed her, and reminded her of the green eyes of a boy she used to have a crush on when she was twelve, something she hadn't thought of since she was a teenager. Her body rose and fell, over and over, and was overtaken by warmth, a gentle heat that flooded through her veins. She turned her head and kissed Angelo, and the heat was turned up and she thought her blood would boil. Her body rose and fell with greater speed, and the green of the valley captivated her again. Two large birds rose up from the forest floor on a thermal — huge dark vultures. They circled on the morning breeze, higher and higher, and then flew off towards the sun and Pamela lost sight of them as they got smaller and disappeared in front of the bright, burning orb. Her body exploded in orgasm, every nerve fiber electric. She closed her eyes and the sunlight burned white hot through her eyelids, illuminating the swirling spinning vortex in her brain. She laughed as the feelings overtook her, a quiet nearly inaudible laugh just for herself at first, and then louder and more open, a pure laugh that came deep from the heart. Angelo smiled at her, his eyes twinkling, as he watched the joyous orgasmic bliss.

Pamela stood and looked at the sky and closed her eyes again, warm water cascading down her body. Her skin still felt electric, and the smile hadn't left her face. She picked up the soap and cleaned herself again, reveling in the new feelings as her fingers swept briefly through the lips of her vagina one last time. She knelt and washed Angelo's wilting penis, and the water rinsed them both clean. They walked onto the porch at the edge of the cliff and Pamela dried Angelo with a soft towel, and then dried herself.

"My, what a beautiful morning!" she said, the first words spoken since they were in the cottage.

"Yes it is," Angelo said. "I believe I'll be on my way later — it's wonderful traveling weather."

———————

Later that summer, on a warm morning, the church choir lifted its voices as the congregation stood to leave. Brenda and Pamela were both in attendance, and both walked toward the door with a man on their arm, smiling contentedly.

"Brenda and John, so nice to see you on this fine day," Pastor William said.

"Thank you William," Brenda said, as they shook the pastors hand on the front steps. "It is a beautiful day."

William greeted a few elderly folks and then Pamela and Bill approached.

"Have you ever heard anything from that nice man Angelo?" Pamela asked the pastor after he greeted them.

"He sent me a painting," Pastor William said. "It's in my office, I'll show it to you sometime. It's the most beautiful little thing I've ever seen — you'd swear there was a light behind it, shining through. It's of our little sanctuary here, a double wedding, with many smiling faces. I looked at it with a magnifying glass, and the detail is unbelievable — you can see deep into it even though it's only four inches square. How he can bring such a thing to life... it's a miracle..."