Night of the Storm

My two daughters and I live in this big old house just outside of town. When I say big and old I'm not exaggerating. The place was a two story house plus attic plus basement and must have been over a hundred years old. I picked it up cheap a long time ago when it was in a fairly run-down condition. Well, to be accurate it was in a very run-down condition, at first glance, but only at first glance.

I looked the old place over very carefully and it underneath the disrepair was a fine old structure, well built with quality lumber and workmanship. All it needed was someone to pay some attention to it and it would be a very nice place. Being quite a handyman I thought I could supply the attention required.

I did, too, and over the years I'd improved the place. It's probably a bit big for me and the girls but we like the place. Once the girls move out I'll probably sell it and get myself something smaller, but I figure I'll make a mint when I do sell. The town has expanded somewhat since I first bought the house and I guess I'm now living in a prime residential property. Just the luck of the draw really. If the town had developed in a different direction I'd be living in a big old house too far out of town for most people.

One Friday evening I was at home when I got a call from the girls. They'd been visiting my parents and they called to let me know they'd be staying overnight because there was a thunderstorm on the loose and it was right over the town and they weren't driving in that, thank you very much.

I glanced out the window and I could see the black clouds and what looked like a wall of water moving rapidly in my direction, and I decided that you weren't going to be getting me out driving in that either. I gave them my love and said I'd see them tomorrow.

With the size of the storm coming I thought it would probably pay to make sure that all the windows around the place were shut so I did a quick tour of the place, finding several open windows, notably in the girls bedrooms. Those two were always forgetting to close their windows. That's the reason I went to the trouble of getting marine carpeting put down in their room. It saved me money in the long run.

Back downstairs I was about to go and watch some TV (Cable, fortunately) when I remembered another bad habit. One of mine, this time. I seem to be incapable of turning off a light when I leave a room, even when I know that I won't be going back to that room. I knew, I just knew, that I'd probably left all the lights on upstairs. A quick glance around showed that I had certainly done the same downstairs. I thought that perhaps I should nip upstairs and turn all those lights off but you know how it is. I could not be bothered. TV won over turning off lights.

I reached the family room and turned on the TV at the same time as lightning flared, thunder crashed, rain came pouring down, the doorbell rang, someone screamed, and someone started banging on the front door.

I strolled over to the front door and opened it and three young ladies came barging in, brushing straight past me in their eagerness to be inside. I could see their car in the driveway. I closed the door and followed the girls. They could hear the TV and had barrelled down the hall and into the family room and were now standing there looking around.

It registered on me that I knew these young ladies. They were all friends of my daughters and they'd actually been at my house before a number of times. The girls were Cheryl, Alice, and Jenny. They were all about the same age as my daughters but I couldn't be any more specific than that. Like all girls of around that age they were attractive and nicely built, being too full of energy to have any excessive weight. I had no complaints about having them around.

I did raise an eyebrow in their general direction, sort of indicating an explanation of their presence would be nice. Jenny was happy to start talking.

"Hi, Mr Monroe," she said. "Sorry to just barge in like that but that storm was scary. Cheryl turned eighteen a couple of months back, the last of our group to do so, and she's been trying to get her license ever since. She finally got it today and to celebrate we went for a drive, Cheryl driving, and she needs the practice."

Cheryl interjected a rude comment at this point but I won't repeat it. Jenny blandly ignored it and kept on talking.

"Anyway, we were heading back home and we saw the storm approaching. We were hoping to beat it but as we got near your place we could see what looked like a tidal wave moving in our direction and there was no way we were going into that. We saw your place and we just drove in and bolted for the door, reaching it just as the floods started. We were lucky you were home. We'll just run upstairs and say hullo to Kathy."

"Well, you can run upstairs, but if you want to say hullo to Kathy you'll have to speak awfully loudly. The girls are currently at their Grandmother's house and they won't be coming home in this weather."

The girls were a trifle disconcerted whereas I was just amused.

"I suggest that you ring up your parents and let them know that you're stuck here for the night. There's no way you're going to get home in that downpour and I don't care how good you think your driving is. Even I am not silly enough to go out in that."

That last bit was added because Cheryl looked as though she was about to say she could handle the weather,

"But what are we supposed to do?" Alice wailed.

"Well, I don't know. If you haven't had dinner feel free to cook yourselves a meal. Just make sure you tidy the kitchen afterwards. With the girls not here the TV and the computer are both free and you can use those. When you want to go to bed you can sleep in Kathy's room as she has a spare bed in there. Two of you would have to share. Alternatively you can have a bed apiece and the third young lady can sleep in the guest room. Please yourselves."

There was a bit of grumbling but I ignored it. It wasn't my fault the storm had descended and I actually thought they'd made the right call stopping and seeking shelter. I subtly let them know that I thought they'd made an intelligent and mature decision which helped them relax a little.

Despite having to explain that tidy the kitchen afterwards meant after dinner and not some nebulous time in the future things went smoothly. The girls had decided to grab a bed apiece and I left them to sort that out. I eventually said goodnight, dropping a non-subtle hint that if their antics kept me awake they'd regret it. They impolitely derided my threat but they did quieten down somewhat.

Silence eventually settled over the house and I assumed that the girls had also retired. The storm, I noted, was still going strong.

I woke up about one o'clock, jarred out of my sleep by a tremendous clap of thunder. I listened to see if the girls had been disturbed or woken but didn't hear anything. Then there was a second clap of thunder and a scream in the background. I considered getting up to go and see if one of the girls was overly upset but I didn't get a chance to.

There was the pitter-patter of rapidly moving feet and then my door opened and a young lady dived across the room and into my bed, trembling violently and crying. I did what any father does in such a situation. I just held her and soothed her, assuring her that she was safe. I was there and she had nothing to worry about.

It must have worked because she stopped trembling and fell asleep. Seeing there was nothing else I could do I also went to sleep, continuing to cuddle my unexpected guest.

When I woke up next it was still dark and far too early to get up. Sometime during the night a certain young lady's top had ridden up and I found I was lying there with my hand covering a very nice breast. It seemed reasonable to me that I should just leave it there and get a bit more sleep.

I wasn't quite asleep when I felt her stir. Very much felt it because when she moved she rubbed her breast rather firmly against my hand. I would have snatched my hand away with apologies but decided that was only called for if I was awake. Seeing I was sure I must still be asleep I just adjusted the position of my hand slightly so I had the previous comfortable handful.

"Ah, Mr Monroe, do you mind?" came a tiny whisper which I naturally didn't hear.

"Mr Monroe?" came another inquiry, also ignored.

I expected a delicate attempt to move out from under my hand and probably out of my bed and room, retreating to whichever room she had started in.

It didn't happen.

Now, out of courtesy to my guests, I was wearing pyjamas, just in case I had to get up during the night. The bottom half of them, anyway, which the girls would probably consider the most important half. Now a little hand landed on my chest and started wandering around, sort of getting a feel for me. I was solidly built and quite fit and there was a bit of beef there for her to feel.

After a few moments I could tell that her hand was wandering in a generally downwards direction. Despite the hand full of breast I hadn't broken out a morning wood. When her hand came slipping through the open fly of my pyjamas that started to change. It changed even more when she felt the movement and grabbed a hold. With her hand wrapped around me my cock went from slightly interested to 'let's get it on' in nothing flat, filling out and standing tall and giving her something pretty solid to hold on to.

I could hear her breathing getting harder. She moved around a little, slowly so as not to disturb me (As though I wasn't already disturbed). When she'd finished she was nestled nicely against me, facing away from me. She'd managed to keep my hand fastened to her breast I noted with some amusement and she'd also managed to retain her hold on her new found toy.

I have to admit that I thought the girl was just amusing herself, getting herself a little excited by copping a feel while I was asleep. I had no doubt whatsoever that she'd shortly slip out of the bed and head back to her own bed, probably giggling as she went.

Thus it came as a bit of a shock when she adjusted the position of my cock so it was pressing against her. She was hot and wet and at some stage her panties had fallen off. Don't blame me for that. I hadn't touched them.

She pressed back against me and I found myself being eased between her lips and going deeper. No virgin, I noticed pretty quickly. I could tell because there was no sign of reluctance or hint of obstruction and I was already sliding in quite deep. I still just lay there, not helping at all, while she pushed against me, apparently determined to take all of me.

She managed it too and for a while seemed content to just lie there, impaled on my weapon. After that little while it seemed that that wasn't enough. She began moving. Very cautiously, but definitely starting to slide up and down my cock. It's not really the sort of thing that you can hide from a man. He owns the cock, after all, and it is a sensitive piece of equipment.

I started moving with her. Not hard and fast with driving need, but just adding a little impetus, a touch more feeling. I could hear her stifle a groan and she started moving a little faster. That wasn't a problem, I could handle it with ease.

After a while it started to become a problem. She was quietly relishing the contact, seeing no need to add anything to it. She was moving in an almost dreamy manner, slowly building on her own desires and excitement. That's where the problem was coming from. I had my own desires and excitement. Still, seeing I'd let her start on this course I was just going to have to see it through to the end.

Somehow or other I gained the impression that she had a pillow pressed hard against her face, probably to stop herself screaming and carrying on. She kept up that same steady pace, her passage rubbing against me as she dragged herself up and pushed herself down, all done with the minimum of fuss.

I'm not sure how long this went on except to say that in my opinion it was just a little too long. She suddenly pressed a little harder against me and that was too much for my poor gonads. They surrendered, yielding everything they had without showing the least resistance. Her passage seemed to tighten around me as she accepted (demanded) my offering, her whole body giving a slight shudder, that pillow in her face not completely muffling the scream she gave.

She gave a happy sigh and then the little wretch seemed to drift off to sleep. I disengaged, deciding that when she woke up in the morning I would demonstrate just how vigorous love-making could be. Then I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke I was alone. She'd woken up and slipped away. I showered and dressed and headed down to the kitchen for some breakfast. I was so going to have words with a certain charming young lady. All I had to do was cut her loose from her friends and that shouldn't be too hard. She wouldn't want them knowing what she'd got up to.

The coffee aroma roused the girls and it wasn't long before the three of them were in the kitchen, clamouring for it. I just smiled and poured and looked them over and came to a horrifying conclusion. I had no way of telling which one of them had finished up in my bed. They were all acting exactly the same, a cheerful good morning and we'll be heading home soon.

There were no innuendos, no triumphant looks or sideways glances. Nothing to indicate that one of the three young lovelies has assaulted me in my sleep. It was infuriating. How could I demand an encore when I didn't know who put on the performance?

The storm had finally blown over and the girls departed soon after breakfast. Even as they drove away there were no backwards glances. Had I dreamed the entire thing? No way. Women can be so infuriating.