1 comments/ 7140 views/ 1 favorites Tornado By: ldrequiv I didn't understand it, and it troubled me no end. Melinda Hunter was the Purchasing Department joke. The other men could hardly resist snickering and lewd comments as she passed by. She'd earned them with her behavior at after-hours watering holes and departmental parties. On the surface, Mel was a major winner: fresh-faced, bosomy yet slender, extroverted, and well supplied with intelligence and drive. She was always beautifully dressed: tailored blouses, knee-length skirts, hose and high heels. Never trousers or jeans. Always just the right number of accessories, and in the best of taste. She knew how to play the corporate game, too; at twenty-eight she already had upper management eating out of her hand. The smart money was on her becoming the director of the department when Josh Parnell finally found the grace to retire. All the other women hated her. You had to know about her slutteries to appreciate the contradiction. Major winner, yeah. Young, single, attractive, competent, energetic -- and cheap. Cheap by choice. Mel's trademark sex act had gained her a weird moniker: "Tornado." Apparently "Hoover" was considered too cliched, or perhaps deemed inappropriate because she preferred to stand up. I couldn't help but wonder if she knew about it...or cared. I stayed well clear of her. As attractive as she was, I had no intention of becoming part of her stable. Cheap and easy have never done a thing for me. After she'd been a bare two years in the department, I learned that I was the only man there who hadn't sampled her favors. That made me one of the office jokes, as well. I didn't let it bother me. But it bothered Melinda. *** A typical office has a few spots in which, given time and determination, you can corner anyone: the coffee service, the water cooler, the copier, the fax machine, and the departmental secretary's station. If you're aware that you're being stalked, those are places to avoid. Use them after hours if you can. If you can't wait that long, "case the joint" before approaching, do your work, and get back to your desk. Never linger. Of course, a determined stalker will notice. A determined stalker will watch your movements, note patterns, and devise a counter-tactic. You must be ready for the inevitable. My Achilles heel was the fax. Quite a number of our suppliers are averse to doing business over the Internet. They have their reasons, and I'm required to respect them. Anyway, fax is reliable and secure. But damned few offices have more than one, and I wasn't about to pay for fax service out of my own pocket just to avoid using ours. I tried to schedule my faxing toward the end of the day, when everyone else's mind is on getting out and home. Occasionally it wasn't possible to wait that long. On one such occasion, I'd just gotten my order form into the hopper when I felt a slim hand land softly on my shoulder. I turned. It was Mel, of course. Elegantly dressed as always, and with her characteristic naughty smile. There was no document in her hands. "How are you, Ryan?" I smiled formally. "Fine, thanks." I started to turn back toward the machine, but she halted me. "A few of us have plans to gather at the Black Grape after work. I hear Todd and Jeanne Iverson will be there, too. Have you ever met them?" I swallowed. Her right hand was still on my shoulder. "Once, when I joined the company." Her smile widened. "It would be an opportunity to deepen your acquaintance with them." Her left hand rose to land on my other shoulder. "With me, too." I winced. Her smile gave way to a look of concern. "Something wrong?" I glanced pointedly over her head, shouted, "Josh, I need to speak with you," and pushed past her, leaving my order form in the machine and unfaxed. *** I don't drink much, and seldom when I'm out. These days the cops are harder on drunk drivers than they are on serial killers. But that night I needed a couple, and it felt wrong to go home to do it. I went to Team Spirits, a bar on the opposite side of town, to minimize the chance of running into anyone else I knew. There were plenty of available booths; I picked up a beer from the bar and slid into one. The bartendress frowned at me, as I was alone and there was no one else at the bar. I'm not solitary most of the time, but that night what I had on my mind wouldn't support a conversation. I wasn't looking to drown my sorrows; I just wanted to take them out for a quick wade in the shallows. But Murphy's Law was on the lookout for me. Apparently I'd dodged the Flying Purple Shaft too often recently, and it had marked me for special attention. I wasn't a third of the way through that beer when the bartendress slid into the seat across from me and leaned toward me. "Feeling a little low?" I shook my head. "Just dampening a few scattered thoughts. You know how it is." She chuckled. "Don't I just." She looked me over swiftly and held out a hand. "I'm Nancy." I shook it quickly. "Ryan." "Pleased to meet you, Ryan. From the look on your face I figured you could use a little company." A pause. "I know I could." I said nothing. That might have been the worst thing I could have done. Her face darkened at once. "What's wrong with that, Bubba?" She looked down at herself. "Not good enough to sit with you?" I shook my head. "Come on, you should know better. You're young and pretty and friendly. I'm flattered that you came back here. I'm just not fit company tonight. If I were in a better mood..." I let the thought trail off. A look of understanding lit in her eyes. "Girl troubles, hon?" "You could say that." "I'm a girl," she said. "Nothing's better for girl troubles than another girl. That's what my other customers tell me, anyway. And I own this joint. Want me to lock the door?" She glanced back at her bar. "Doesn't look like there'll be much trade for a while, anyway." I've never claimed to understand the female mind, but these past few years the Plutonians I'd gotten used to seem to have been replaced by demons from another dimension. Her offer, which obviously implied quite a bit more than conversation, left me too flabbergasted to compose a coherent reply. The door opened, and high heels clicked smartly down the aisle. "Excuse me," a soft alto voice said, "I believe this seat is taken." Nancy looked up in irritation. "Bet your ass, bitch. Find another." A hand shot out, took Nancy by the ear and tugged sharply. She screamed and raised her hands to attack, but Mel caught Nancy's wrists, whirled her around, and twisted her arms into a neat cross-Nelson. "Back off, babe." Mel's smile was feral, the rictus of the predator in the instant before the pounce. "He's mine." *** "Well, that was something new." "What?" Mel twisted around in the passenger seat to face me. "You've never seen two women fight over a man before? Believe me, it happens all the time." "Around you, maybe." "And what is that supposed to mean?" "Means what it says. I've never seen it before. So what brings you all the way out here?" "You do." "Hm?" "I followed you, Ryan. Isn't that just a wee bit obvious?" "But why?" "Because I have to know." "Why I avoid you, you mean?" "Well, why? What's wrong with me?" I laughed. "That's twice in fifteen minutes a beautiful woman has asked me that. What is it with you, anyway? Why does something have to be 'wrong with you' for me not to want to become part of your harem, Tornado?" Mel paled and her mouth dropped open. "What did you call me?" "What every other man in the office calls you. Didn't you know?" She began to tremble. Not little tremors, like ordinary nerves or someone who's having a hard time holding still, but real, violent quakes that looked powerful enough to shake her apart. I reflexively put a hand to her shoulder. As I touched her, willingly for the first time, two things happened. She burst into tears. My heart broke. *** "Forgive me?" Mel nodded. "I'd heard the word used in the office. I just didn't know it referred to me." She raised a tear-streaked face. "Because of what I --" "I assume so," I said quickly. "No need to discuss it in the parking lot of a sleazy bar." She nodded and leaned into me, heedless of the gearshift digging into her thigh. I laid an arm tentatively around her shoulders. She was still quivering slightly. I struggled with my own contradictions. I'm no prude. I enjoy sex as much as the next man. But I have an aversion to "going-nowhere" sex. Quickies. One-night stands with nothing exchanged but semen, saliva, and sweat. I want things to last. I want to build things that will last. "Mel," I murmured, "have you had dinner?" She shook her head. "Would you like some?" She looked up. "Sure. Where to?" She reached into her purse to grope for her keys. I laid a hand on hers, and she stopped. "I'll drive." *** Mel gave me a speculative look as we pulled into my driveway, but she held her tongue and followed me inside. I gave silent thanks that my cleaning lady had been there earlier that day. I gestured her toward my living-room sofa. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a moment." She nodded and seated herself, smoothing her skirt carefully beneath her. The liquor cabinet held a single unopened bottle of Gewurtztraminer. It would have to do. I uncorked it, poured two glasses, and brought them out to her. She accepted one with a nod and a murmur of thanks. We clinked and sipped. "Are you averse to cheddar omelets and English muffins for dinner?" I said. "It's all I have the fixings for." She smiled wanly. "The bachelor life. I know it well. No, that will be fine. I'd rather we stayed here anyway, even with no food at all." I saluted her with my glass, rose, and went to the kitchen to fix dinner. As I worked, I heard movement in the dining room behind me, drawers opening, cloth flapping, and glassware clinking. Twenty minutes later I and my electric frying pan discovered that Mel had set the table, and more. She had explored my sideboard thoroughly. She'd covered my old rock-maple table with my Irish linen tablecloth. She'd deployed my best china, beautifully delicate pieces over seventy years old, and the silverware I'd inherited from my paternal grandmother. She'd fitted slender white tapers into the candleholders and lit them, bathing the room in the inimitable glow that bespeaks an important intimate encounter. Every item on the table was a family heirloom I'd never before found an occasion to use. She stood waiting by the table, hands folded before her. "Sorry I couldn't invent a centerpiece," she said. "You don't have any flowers lying around." I swallowed. "I could send out." She giggled. "The omelets would get cold." I glanced down at the omelets. "They might die of embarrassment anyway." Another giggle. "Sit down, Ryan." We did. I served us and poured more Gewurtztraminer. About three bites in, Mel said, "You have to watch out for 'special occasion' syndrome. Use your good stuff. Every day above ground is a special occasion." I nodded, reached for my English muffin, and stopped. "That's part of why I never understood." Her brow furrowed. In the candlelight her eyes were enormous. "Why you...you know." "Oh." She dropped her gaze to her plate. "Look," I said, suddenly exasperated, "I'm not one of the everyone-is-special types. That's a lot of crap, always has been and always will be. There are a lot of people whose sole function in life is to keep their clothes filled. I don't trouble myself about them, and I'm sure they don't trouble themselves about me. But you are special." Mel looked up, plainly astonished. "You have every asset a woman could possibly want. I've been looking for exactly what and who you are all my adult life." The cords of my neck had tautened and my hands had balled into fists. "Ryan," she whispered, "that's how I feel about you." There are no words in the dictionary adequate to how I felt upon hearing that. "Stunned" doesn't come close. "Devastated" is too modest. "Then why have you cheapened it night after night by degrading yourself with anyone who wants his ashes hauled?" My voice had risen without my willing it. "Then you try to drag me into the same pigsty. How the hell am I supposed to feel about that?" Animation flooded into her face. "That's not why I approached you. I meant what I said about wanting to get to know you better. I've waited for an opportunity for nearly two years, and you've been so elusive I had to jump at today's chance. I thought I might never get another one." A long moment of silence passed between us. "Are you serious?" I said. She nodded. "Then why...why all the others?" "Ryan," she said wearily, "I just suck them off. I don't fuck them. Well, not often, anyway." She noticed my grimace. "What's wrong?" I held up a hand and looked aside. I have a thing about gutter language, but I wasn't about to reveal that particular prissiness at the moment. Not when even the broadcast radio and television stations no longer try to repress it. Mel rose, circled the table, and draped her arms around my shoulders from behind. I sat unmoving. "Are you still hungry?" she murmured. I looked up. "Not particularly." She put one hand to the underside of my chin. "Then come with me." *** Mel found my bedroom without having to ask the way and pulled me in behind her. It's not much -- no two pieces match -- but I try to keep it neat. She sat on the edge of my bed, gestured to me to join her, and took my hand again. "I think you can guess why we're here," she said. I nodded. "I'm not that slow. But I do have a question first." "Which is?" "Why all the others? Whoever and whenever and whatever, what did you get out of it?" She shrugged. "It was just to break the isolation. Everyone's always looked at me...well, pretty much the way you did just before. Special. A world-beater. Too good for mortal man. Frightening. It gets lonely up on a pedestal, Ryan. I wanted to come down. So I thought about what would most likely get me down, and I did it." She scowled. "I've never really enjoyed it much. Not that I expected to." "Would you like to know why?" I said. She nodded, eyes wary. "Because you are special, and you know it. You can't just throw yourself at the mediocre majority and expect to get anything out of it. The mediocre majority has nothing to offer you. It can take what you offer, but it can never pay you back in any adequate way. Would you like to know what the chief pleasure you offered all those other men really was?" She said nothing. "The satisfaction from saying to themselves that they'd lowered you beneath them. Instead of kinking their necks looking up at you, now they could look down, and maybe spit." Another nod. "I think I knew that. I just...oh, never mind." She turned and wrapped her arms around me. I reciprocated. "Shall we make love?" she said. "We shall." We undressed together, and presently stood nude in the evening dimness. Her body was smooth and perfect, a symphony of luscious curves and flawless skin. She started toward me, and I held up a hand. "Are you on the pill?" She shook her head. "No, I use a diaphragm." "Are you wearing it now?" "Yes." "Take it out." "But --" "Do it." She complied and handed it to me. I gave it a cursory glance and laid it aside. "This is not a fling for me, Mel," I said. "I'm done with flings and holding actions. This is as serious as it gets. I love you. I want you for my wife and the mother of my children. If you feel the same, we start here and now, no holding back, no protection against one another, and no regrets no matter what should happen. Or we don't start at all." "What if I can't have children?" she whispered. "Would that oppress you terribly?" "...no..." "Then we'll leave that up to God. Will you have me for your husband? To love, cherish, and obey, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do us part?" She frowned. "Obey?" "Just so. A household can have only one head. I will be that head. If not with you, then eventually with someone else. Those are my terms. Do you accept them?" About ten thousand years later she whispered, "I do." I took her in my arms, and we kissed for the first time. Her lips were soft, her mouth sweet. The cushiony pleasure of holding her against me and kissing her was beyond anything I'd known. She moaned into my mouth and pressed herself firmly against me. My hands slid down her back and settled upon her rump, and I lifted her into the air. She squealed and pulled back to look into my eyes as I impaled her upon me. "No foreplay?" I grinned. "Foreplay, afterplay, humbug! We'll have duringplay. Betweenplay. All-the-while-play. And play we will, my love. Join in as the spirit moves you." I lowered her onto the bed, disengaging reluctantly. My hands and lips began a slow, worshipful exploration of her body. Full, ripe breasts, milky-pink, with turgid nipples and skin soft as rose petals. A beautifully tapered rib cage covered with the same satiny skin, but with surprising muscle beneath. A narrow waist and a perfect jewel of a navel. Hips of a goddess of fecundity, and perfect legs that promised an inescapable embrace. I stroked her from head to toe, over and over, lingering over her nipples and her mound. She moaned and undulated in time to my caresses, in the erotic rhythm of a temple dancer. "Ryan," she gasped, "I want you back inside me." "All in good time," I said, parting her labia and taking her clitoris between my lips. She squealed and shuddered as the first of her orgasms swept over her. I paused to let it pass, then resumed my nibbling. Another climax was upon her at once, and another after that. Within minutes she was panting raggedly, near to exhaustion from the tidal waves of tension and release. I rose and peered down at her through the gloom. "What was it you said you wanted just before?" "Come back down here, damn it!" So I did, and she welcomed me home. *** We were unable to keep our hands off one another throughout the night. It was a struggle to rise and part the morning after, though we knew it would be a brief parting. The office was as it usually is. I walked in at the usual time, drew a cup of coffee from the communal urn, and set to my work as if it were any ordinary Thursday. But it would not be ordinary for long. On my way to the copier I passed several other coworkers, and crossed paths with Mel on her way to wherever. We couldn't resist a brushing caress as we passed one another. I held my giggle back; she couldn't quite restrain hers. Hal Larson grabbed me by the arm as I returned to my desk. "So it's true, then?" "Hm? What's true?" He shook his head. "I couldn't quite believe it, but my wife swore on a Bible that she'd seen you and Tornado out together. Said you looked like an item --" I didn't let him get another word out. My right fist snapped out and caught him on the point of his chin, a perfect knockout punch. His eyes rolled up and he started to crumple. I caught him under the arms and dragged him to the departmental secretary's station, shouting "Everyone in Purchasing, up to the front desk, right now!" I found a crowd of baffled purchasing agents there. What they thought of me dragging Larson's limp carcass will have to go unrecorded. I let him slump to the carpet, beckoned Mel out of the crowd to my side, and took her hand. "I have a couple of announcements. First, the lady whom you've known these past two years as Melinda Hunter is now Mrs. Ryan Cunningham." I swept the gathering with my eyes. "I trust you will join me in celebrating our choice of one another." Tornado There was a smattering of applause, but most were too stunned to react. I heard the doors open behind me, but didn't turn to see who it was. "Second, there's a word that will no longer be uttered in this office, or for that matter anywhere in my hearing. That word is 'tornado.' If we should experience such a weather event, you may call it a cyclone, or a rotary atmospheric disturbance, or Fred, but not a tornado. That word is now forbidden, on pain of what happened to Hal here." I gestured down at Larson, who was still out cold. "What happened to him?" Roy Service asked. Service had passed some of the nastiest remarks I'd heard about Mel. I bared my teeth at him. "I happened to him. Have I made myself perfectly clear?" An amused voice behind me said, "Perfectly, Mr. Cunningham. Back to your posts, everyone." Mel squeezed my hand and hurried away with the others. I turned and confronted the legend himself. Todd Iverson isn't a large man, but he can dominate any gathering of any size or composition. It takes one glance for you to know you're in the presence of a master intelligence, someone appreciably more than human -- and one glance for him to know whether you have the slightest chance of measuring up to the stratospheric standards he sets for everyone in his employ. I braced for a blast, but he didn't say a word, nor did I. He merely looked me in the eyes, smiled, and nodded as if in approval, before striding down the aisle to Josh Parnell's office. I watched him recede until he was out of sight, then returned to my own desk. Nothing more of interest happened that day, until I was home and in Mel's arms. After we'd dined, cleared the dishes, and made love quite as extraordinary as the evening before, we held each other and conversed in the darkness. "What on Earth got into you today?" Mel said. "I never figured you for a brawler." "I'm not," I said. "But I had to make it plain that some things would no longer be tolerated. They'd never have believed me if I stopped at just words. I had to punish a violator and let everyone know that I'd done it, or the snickering and degrading comments would never end." I drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. "I can't tell you how relieved I was still to have a job at the end of the day. When I found Iverson behind me, I thought I was going to need to pack my things. But he just smiled and nodded." Mel chuckled and snuggled close to me. "That wasn't why he came to Purchasing." "Oh? Is there other news? A promotion in the offing for Mrs. Cunningham, perhaps?" "Well, we'll see. But Todd came to our area because Josh has finally sent in his retirement papers. The word is that he didn't nominate a successor, just left it up to Todd. So I think our genius CEO might have been smiling and nodding at the next director of Purchasing." --- The End --- Tornado Roxanne entered the conference room and took a seat. She was attending a course at another production plant and was one of the first to arrive. As others entered, Roxanne recognized a few of them from previous process courses and then met a few new people. One of the people she met for the first time was to be her neighbour and class partner for the three days of the course. His name was James and Roxanne was immediately smitten with him. His skin was darker than most, from some Asian and native ancestors as she learned in conversation. He had a great body and an amazing rear end. And when he smiled, Roxanne couldn't help but smile too. As the course progressed, they worked well together and had a lot of fun. Several times, Roxanne wondered if James was flirting with her or if she was imagining things as wishful thinking. On the last day, they were supposed to apply their new knowledge by doing a mill audit. Doing such an audit required taking readings and samples at regular intervals and all participants were assigned an area. Teams remained as they had all week so Roxanne and James were paired. As they put on their safety gear, one of the plant people came to see them and said that they were under a tornado watch for the afternoon and informed them that if the watch turned into a warning, they'd announce it on the radios and that if a tornado became imminent, they would hear a siren. They then learned that if they heard that siren, they were to take cover immediately. While a few teams had to be shuffled to ensure there was a local person on each team, James and Roxanne stayed together. James had worked at this plant before so knew the layout well. Roxanne and James made their way to their assigned location and started working. Now that they were alone, there was no mistaking the flirting. Several times, there was touching and winking and smiling. In between the sampling, they'd talk. Roxanne found out that James was now working at a plant not too far away from where they were and he knew exactly what to do if the sirens rang. He reassured her that the chances of that happening were pretty low. As the day progressed, they saw dark clouds forming and the humidity got even worse than it had been. Roxanne had never felt such humidity before and despite the heat, she shivered at the sight of how dark the clouds were getting. Laughing, James put his arm around her shoulder and said "Don't worry, I'll keep you safe." And that's when they heard on the radio that the tornado watch had now become a warning and that everyone should scout out safe places. Again, James reassured her and said "I know a place we can go to, we will not get hurt, I promise." They took another round of samples and then looked up at the sky. Roxanne shivered and asked "Is that cloud rotating?" James also looked up and nodded. The wind was picking up and rain started to fall. They took cover from the rain and kept looking at the ever-darkening clouds overhead. The rain got worse as they took another round of samples and Roxanne could swear there was something harder than rain pelting her arms. When the sirens started, Roxanne nearly jumped out of her skin. James grabbed her hand and pulled her towards a concrete building. There was no mistaking that what was coming down had turned to hail. They could see the clouds rotating and churning as they made their way to the door. James pulled opened the door and pushed her in. The room was not big and was a storage room for cleaning supplies. There were brooms and shovels and such. James closed and secured the door behind them. Then, he surprised Roxanne by pulling her into his arms and holding her. "Don't worry. I've been through several tornadoes and I'm still fine. We'll be fine." As he said that, he soothed her hair and kissed her temple. It was all very sweet. As the noise got louder outside, Roxanne simply held on to him, feeling safe in his strong arms. Within a few minutes, the lights went out. They could no longer hear any sound from the nearby machines and equipment, only the hail pelting against the heavy metal door. Then, they heard other objects banging against the door. To her relief, the door held fast and kept them safe. They had no clue how long they were there. It seemed like an eternity. However, eventually, the noise died down. They waited a while and then James pulled back and asked "You okay? I think the worst is over. We made it. I'm going to try opening the door, okay?" Roxanne nodded and then realized that he couldn't see her in the dark. "yes, I'm okay. Thanks. But how do you know that it's safe?" "No more noise, just rain." James made his way to the door and unbolted it. He carefully tried to open it but it would only open about 2 inches. It was enough to let some light in. It was also enough to see that there was a huge piece of debris blocking the door. They couldn't tell what it was, only that it was big and not moving. Roxanne asked "Now what?" "Well, we wait and when the radios start working again, we tell them where we are. They'll bring a loader or something over here and get us out. Meanwhile, we just wait." They talked for a while, mostly James telling stories of previous tornadoes he'd survived. Then, they heard the radio start crackling and heard some voices. Soon, there were cries for help from people who were hurt. Someone got them to be quiet for a minute and then started a roll call to verify who was okay and who needed help. When James indicated that they were blocked in but otherwise fine, they were told that they'd be a low priority and to sit tight while injured people were taken care of first. After hearing how many people were injured, James declared "it's probably going to be at least an hour." Then, he got this twinkle in his eyes and said "I have a few ideas on how we could pass the time." Grinning, Roxanne asked "What, you have a deck of cards in your pocket?" "I got better than that in my pocket. Want to feel it up?" As he said that, he grabbed her hand and pulled it towards his crotch. Roxanne pulled her hand away and exclaimed "You can't be serious!" "You can't tell me you don't feel the attraction between us!" "True but here? Now?" "Why not? We have at least an hour." James reached for her and gently pulled her face to his and kissed her lightly on the lips. He pulled back slightly and gave her a chance to pull away. When she didn't, he leaned in and kissed her again, this time gently parting her lips with his own and allowing their tongues to meet. Within a few seconds, Roxanne's arms wrapped around him and she responded, kissing him back. They kissed for a while and then their hands started roaming. His lips left hers and made their way to her neck where he kissed tickled her with his tongue, making her moan. His hands started undressing her. She hesitated so he stopped and focused on his own clothes. He removed his shirt and undershirt, showing her, in the dim light, his sculpted torso. She touched him. His skin was soft and warm. She put both her hands on his chest and started planting kisses all over his muscular chest, caressing. He caressed her arms, allowing her to explore. Then she looked up and their lips locked again. This time, when he reached for her shirt buttons, she didn't stop him. Instead, she helped him and as soon as she was as naked as he was from the waist up, she said "I want to feel your skin against mine." He obliged, enjoying the feeling himself. They continued kissing and James caressed the breasts he'd enjoyed sneaking peeks at during their classroom time. Soon, he had her nipples nice and hard and had her moaning with pleasure with his touch. After a few more moments of kissing and caressing, James started undoing his pants. She stopped him and said "Mine." She knelt down in front of him and finished undoing his pants. Pushing them down, she deliberately avoided the obvious and caressed the rear end she'd admired the last few days. Then, she reached for his hardening cock and gave it a few strokes. Wasting no time, she pulled him into her mouth and started licking and suckling. James wrapped his fingers in her hair and gently pulled her forward. Roxanne took him in, gently nibbling on his hardness with her teeth. "Careful there!" he said as she did so. Pulling away, she said "Don't worry!" And she took him back as deep as she could, teasing the underside of his cock with her tongue. She let him gently fuck her face for a moment and then he pulled out and said "my turn". She looked around and said "not on this floor!" He grabbed a wheelbarrow and set it straight and, putting his shirt at the bottom, said "there, clean." Both of them worked at removing her pants and she laid back in the makeshift furniture and allowed him access. He started caressing her legs and soon reached her core. Then, it was his turn to kneel and start kissing and licking. "Ooooh, sweet tongue!" James smiled and continued giving her pleasure. His fingers weren't idle either, still teasing her nipples and then caressing her legs or any part of her body he could reach. At times, he had Roxanne wondering if he didn't have more than two hands. "I want you inside James." "I won't argue with that, I can't wait to feel you around me." He somehow managed to align himself to her in the wheel barrow and gently push in, causing her to moan loudly. After a few strokes, Roxanne asked "this isn't too comfortable for you, is it?" James admitted "No, not really." "Help me up." James pulled out and helped Roxanne stand up. She turned around and leaned onto the wheelbarrow and said "This should be easier and a whole lot more fun." James didn't need to be told twice and penetrated her again from behind. It was way more comfortable and he was able to push in deeper which caused delicious friction and pleasure for both of them. Soon, they were both moaning and panting and Roxanne pleaded "don't stop, James, don't stop. I'm so close." He reached around and started rubbing her clit, pushing her over the edge as evidenced by her squeezing pussy muscles and lour moans. That pushed him over too and he came with a grunt. They both continued moving for about a minute and then pulled apart. James pulled her against him and kissed her deeply. They then got dressed and sat on the ground, cuddling as they waited for their turn to be freed. It was only about 20 minutes later that workers came with a loader to remove the debris from the doorway and allow them to get out of their shelter. When asked how they'd passed the time, both smiled and said "We quizzed each other on the course material." Tornado Warning Lori was in Atlanta for a seminar and after the last day, a bunch of the attendees had gathered in the hotel lounge for drinks and food. They had chatted into the evening. Some people had gone out for a formal dinner but Lori and a handful of people had been content with the finger foods offered by the lounge. It was past 10 PM when Lori made her way to her room. She'd only been in there about 20 minutes when a paper got slipped under her door. She thought it was unusual for the final tab to come this early, they usually did that around 3 am. As she picked up the tab, she found a note attached. "Dear Guests, the tornado watch has been upgraded to a warning for the next several hours. Should the weather get worse and an imminent tornado warning issued, we would ask that you make your way to one of our five stairwells and / or to the meeting halls on the main floor. All of these locations are built to withstand severe weather including the top tornadoes. Should we need to evacuate to these areas, a message will be issued over the hotel phones. Thank you." Lori watched the storms being tracked on the weather channel in her hotel room for a while. Eventually, she gave in to the exhaustion and went to bed. However, just in case they had to evacuate the rooms, she'd prepared a few things and wore a camisole and shorts to bed instead of her night gown which was rather flimsy. She also put her windbreaker close to the bed so she could slip it on in a hurry if need be. The evacuation alarm sounded around 12:30 and a voice came over the phone speaker "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Tom Greenwood, the night shift manager. Our area has been put on an imminent tornado warning. To ensure your safety, we need for all our guests to gather either in the meeting halls or in the stairwells. Please do not use the elevators at this time as power outages are possible at any time. Please do not leave the building. Please proceed now." Lori grabbed her wind breaker and put it on as she slipped into her flats before also grabbing her purse and the backpack she'd prepared. As she made her way to the door, she slung the purse strap over her head and across her chest. She then put the backpack on her shoulders and headed out the door. Several other patrons were also headed towards the stairs. They all filed down towards the bottom. There, a hotel employee asked them to sit down in the stairs, saying that they were safe there. Lori took her back pack off and sat with her back to the wall on one of the landings. She put her back pack under her knees and her purse on her lap and waited. At the bottom of the stairwell, a metal door that would normally open to the parking lot was held shut with ropes as well as the regular latch. They started hearing something pounding against the door. Not like a knock, more liked pellets hitting the door. Lori wasn't the only one with a questioning look on her face. The hotel employee said "Relax folks, this is simply hail hitting the door. We're very safe in here. Unfortunately, I can't really speak for our vehicles but at least we're all safe." The thunder was so loud, they could not only hear it but also feel it rumbling. While this was no different than thunder in the mountains, the cacophony of thunder and hail against the metal door was overbearing. Lori wrapped her arms around her knees and started shaking. That's when the power decided to go off. Lori inhaled sharply at the sudden darkness. Then, the emergency lights came on but they were not as bright as the regular lights. An older gentleman, seeing Lori tremble, got up and came to sit next to her. "Are you scared or cold?" Lori looked at him and said "Bit of both actually." "Would you feel better if I held you?" Lori nodded and the man put his arm around her shoulders and held her close. With his other hand, he cupped her face and pulled her against his chest. Lori kept trembling for a while and the man whispered "It's okay baby girl, we're safe here. I've lived through tornadoes before. It's not as bad as it sounds." Lori put her own hand on his arm and was amazed at the contrast. Her white hand was almost gleaming against his dark brown skin. The man would have been in his late forties, early fifties judging from the amount of white in his curly hair and the lines on his face. His hands were big and strong yet gentle and soft. Lori felt herself relax against him, even though he was a stranger. They stayed like that for over an hour with the hard rain alternating with hail pounding the metal door. The man kept saying soothing things to Lori, stroking her hair and caressing her back. Then, it quieted down and some people started getting up. The hotel employee spoke up "Ladies and gentlemen, may I ask you to please stay put for another 15 – 20 minutes, just to make sure the danger has passed?" Lori stayed tucked against the black man who had been so kind to her. A while later, the door to the lobby opened and another hotel employee poked his head in and said "All clear! Thank you folks! You may go back to your rooms now. Unfortunately, we still don't have power so the stairs are your only option. If you need assistance, please let us know." People were getting up and going back up the stairs. Lori didn't move. She figured that it was better to be safe in the stairwell than in her bedroom. The old man nudged her a bit "It's safe to go back to our rooms now, baby girl." "Is it really? I mean, how do they know this isn't just the proverbial eye of the storm?" The man hugged her close and kissed her forehead. "The weather trackers have radars and all this technology and they relay the information to everyone. The hotel manager probably has a battery operated radio. He wouldn't let us return to our rooms if there was still a risk. He wouldn't risk a lawsuit, would he?" "I guess not." "Ready to go back?" Lori straightened up and looked at the man who'd held her through the worst of the storm. "Thank you." "So where are you from?" "I'm from Montana where the mountains prevent the possibility of tornadoes. This was my first tornado." "Well, I don't think we really had a tornado go over us this time but I think it was close. Glad I could be here to help." As they got up, Lori put her back pack back on her shoulders and he helped her straighten the straps. "What did you have in there?" "Stuff I would absolutely not be able to evacuate without." "Like?" The stranger had a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He was teasing her. "It doesn't matter. And I noticed I wasn't the only one with a bag of stuff." Lori was laughing now. They started up the stairs and when they made it to the fifth floor where Lori was staying, she opened the door and heard her companion say "I'm on this floor too. Room 512. You?" "Room 510. So we were neighbours. How come I didn't see you when we first evacuated?" "I think you were too scared to notice much of anything. I was right behind you." "Oh." They reached her room first. Lori took the key card out of her purse and with shaky hands tried to slide it into the door slot. He grabbed the card from her hand and said "Allow me." He slid the card into the door and it opened. "How did this work when there's no power?" "The doors are on emergency power." "Oh, that makes sense." As the door opened, Lori could hear that there was still hard rain hitting the windows and still lightning and thunder. The man put his hand on Lori's shoulder and asked "Will you be okay, or would you like for me to stay with you?" "You'd do that?" "Sure." "Even though we don't even know each other?" "I'm sorry. Where are my manners? My name is Leroy White. I'm from Savanah." "Lori, from Montana." "I know that up until now we were strangers but somehow, I feel drawn to you, Lori from Montana and I just want you to feel safe. Chivalry isn't dead yet in this world, you know." Just then, another bolt of lightning lit up the room and Lori jumped. Leroy put his arms around her and pulled her to him "It's only lightning. It's okay." When Lori relaxed, Leroy suggested they go look outside. They opened up the drapes and saw that the storm was still whipping rain against the building. Leroy pointed at the cars in the parking lot below "See, all the cars are still there and upright. That means we didn't have a tornado." "I guess. But it doesn't mean there can't still be one." "True. But I'm sure the worst is over." Leroy pulled the drapes closed again and said "We really should try to get some sleep." Lori nodded and then headed to the bed. Leroy asked "Do you want me to sleep next to you or over there on the couch?" "You won't be much comfort over there on the couch. As long as I get this side of the bed, I'm fine." Lori sat on the side of the bed, took off her flats and swung her legs onto the bed. Leroy smiled and said "You going to keep the wind breaker?" Lori laughed "Gee, I'd forgotten I had that on." She took off the jacket and dropped it on the floor next to the bed. Leroy slipped into the bed next to her. Lori hesitated a moment, suddenly realizing she was gingerly getting into bed with a complete stranger. She looked at him and he saw the hesitation in her face despite the lack of light. Just then, a bolt of lightning lit up the room and Lori hurriedly made her way into his arms. He spoke softly to her "Don't worry baby girl, I won't hurt you or do anything to you that you don't want me to." Leroy gently caressed her hair and her arm and Lori slowly relaxed. Outside, the storm continued to rage. Leroy, after another bolt of lightning startled Lori, gently kissed her on the cheek and said "Shhhhh, you're safe baby girl, you're safe." Lori, snuggled up against Leroy's body, was finally warming up. For his age, he was in great shape and Lori could feel the strengths in his arms and legs. With him kissing her cheek and caressing her, Lori felt herself relaxing as well. Eventually, she turned to lay on her back, still within his arms. Leroy propped himself onto an elbow and whispered "I don't want to push you, baby girl, but the best way for you to forget what's going on out there is to give in to the oldest distraction in the world." Lori didn't need a drawing to understand what he meant. She reached up to his face and kissed him on the lips. That was all the invitation Leroy needed. He kissed her, gently prying her mouth open with his tongue and reaching in to caress her tongue with his. They kissed for a while, Lori indeed forgetting all about the storm outside. The kiss got more passionate and Leroy had pushed his leg between her knees and was gently pushing against her vulva, creating a delicious pressure down there. His hand made its way to her breast and he caressed her through the fabric of her cotton camisole. Lori's nipple hardened in response and she moaned. He pushed her camisole up further and bent down to take her nipple in his mouth. His tongue twirled around her nipple and tantalized her. Lori arched her back, pushing against his mouth. His hand had been caressing her other breast and now made its way to her shorts. Lori felt him cup her sex gently and press down just enough to make her tingle. He then pressed his middle finger down until it parted her pussy lips. Lori moaned and pressed up against his inquisitive finger. He caressed her slit with his finger as he took possession of her mouth again. Her hand made its way between their bodies until she felt his erection straining against his shorts. When she struggled to find her way in, he reached down and helped her by pushing down his shorts. He sat up and took them off and also took off his shirt. Lori looked at him and was impressed with his beautiful hairless chest. Lori sat up and pushed him down, caressing his chest lightly. She caressed every square inch of him, often coming back to his nipples. His nipples stood up to her caresses. She tentatively kissed one and he moaned. Emboldened, she gently sucked on it and felt him hand in her hair, encouraging her to continue. While she sucked on one nipple and then the next, just as he'd done for her, Lori reached for his cock. Lori had heard and read so many stories about black men being well endowed and until she had felt him, she'd been a little apprehensive about it. But here he was, indeed well endowed but not overly so. Leroy was on the bigger side of average. Lori stroked his cock and heard Leroy moan. After sucking on his sensitive nipples for a while and stroking his cock, Lori turned and took him in her mouth. She circled the head with her tongue and he moaned loudly. He then said "Turn around more baby girl, straddle my face so I can taste you too." Lori did as Leroy asked and soon felt his tongue on her core. It was hard to concentrate but Lori still tried her best to focus on the beautiful cock in her hand and mouth. She stroked it with her hand while sucking up and down his shaft, taking as much of him as she could. Meanwhile, Leroy was busy licking her pussy lips and sucking on her clit. When he felt her start tensing up and lose concentration on his cock, he pushed her off him and said "Lay down on your back." He positioned himself between her legs and resumed eating her out. Soon, he had her back to the edge and focused on her clit and pushed her over the edge into sweet oblivion. While he let her come back down to earth, he reached into his shorts' pockets and pulled out a condom. He slipped it on and positioned himself at her entrance. "You ready for me baby girl?" Lori nodded and Leroy slid into her easily. She was still wet from her orgasm. He pulled almost all the way out and then plunged into her again. Again and again, he pulled out and plunged in, causing sweet friction for both of them. At one point, he pulled out and moved her legs up to rest against his chest, penetrating her again, deeply. A sharp intake of air greeted the deep penetration and Leroy smiled. "You like this baby girl?" "Mmmmmm, yes." He slowly moved in and out, taking care not to hurt her. Then, he stopped again and said "How about we move around again?" "how?" "I'd like it doggie-style for a while, if you don't mind." Lori nodded and when he pulled out, she turned around and got on her hands and knees. Leroy wasted no time and positioned himself between her legs and, grabbing her hips, penetrated her again. "You've got one sweetly tight and hot pussy baby girl." Lori could only moan as he moved in and out of her. Lori could feel his dangling balls hitting against her pussy lips so she reached down and, making a V with her fingers, she parted her lips and pushed her clit out slightly. When his balls hit her clit, the sensation was amazing. Understanding what she was doing, he reached around and replaced her hand with his and increased the tempo. Lori moaned loudly, enjoying the sensations that were rippling through her body. Then, he started rubbing her clit with his fingers. Soon, he had her going over the edge again. Lori let out a groan as her pussy clamped down around his cock. Leroy moaned too, enjoying the tightness. As her pussy stopped its spasms, he withdrew and turned her over, laying her down on her back. He then re-entered her gently and paused when he was fully inside. "You ready for one last go?" Lori nodded and he started moving inside her. Leroy supported himself on his elbow and turned his arms in, teasing her nipples with his long fingers. Reacting to his touch, Lori arched her back and in doing so, changed the angle at which he entered her, causing even better friction. Within moments, with his fast pace and his teasing of her nipples, Leroy had Lori come once more but this time, he didn't stop, he kept going until he reached his own release. They both caught their breaths and then cuddled and fell asleep. A few hours later, they were awakened by the sound of the phone. Lori reached for the phone and answered the wake up call, thanking reception for it. After they both got up and she got dressed and ready to leave, they had one final kiss. Lori said "Thanks. Your methods worked well at calming my nerves last night." Leroy smiled "My pleasure baby girl, my pleasure." And he left. Tornado Warning! "Tornado Warning!" is yet another true episode in the sexual story of my life. I am purging my soul. Telling of my past "sins" is part of my repentance. I am deathly afraid of tornadoes. For good reason. I am not afraid of a little blowing, but get real! Tornadoes are just too damn frightening. A few years back, on one afternoon in May, twelve people were killed by a tornado in the little community where I grew up. I knew two of the people who died quite well. One was a young boy I had babysat on occasion. The other was a girlfriend. The tornado tossed her car several hundred feet into the air. A car is the worst place to be in a tornado. A septic tank is the best place to be. Houses were reduced to total rubble and it took the National Guard a month to open the town. I happened to be away at college when the tornado struck but I rushed home when I heard the news. We lived several miles south of the center of the town and our home was spared. Later that summer there were numerous tornado "watches" and "warnings." There had been very little advance warning of the killer tornado and now everyone was overly cautious. On a hot and humid day in mid-July that summer my father asked that I stay home and await the arrival of the septic man. My father wanted the tank cleaned, for reasons of preventative maintenance, and someone had to be home. "Honey, all you have to do is show the guy where the septic tank is," my father instructed. "And pay him when he's finished." "OK, daddy dearest, but he better not take all day. I want to go water skiing on the lake with my friends." "The weather report says severe storms later today, Honey. I don't want you going out on the lake if it looks nasty." "I hear you, daddy dearest." We had a pool and I was skimming the surface with the net because I don't like to share the water with bugs. I wanted to float on a raft and read my book. I heard the big truck pull into the driveway. It had a big "SSS" on it and as I got closer I could see the wording underneath, "Shorty's Septic Service." The guy who got out of the truck was huge. I like to watch wrestling, it's just so much more exciting than other sports, and this guy reminded me of a particular wrestler. Except this dude was clean-shaven and he was so strikingly handsome, he was almost pretty like a woman. "Hi. My father asked me to show you where the septic tank is. What's your name? No, let me guess. I bet your name is Shorty." "Yes, ma'am, that it is. How did you know? Have you heard about me?" "No, I haven't heard about you, whatever that means. Just a woman's intuition. What are you, about six-seven?" "Actually, ma'am, I'm six foot, eight and one-quarter inch. And eleven and one-eighth inch." "Huh? Well, why do they call you Shorty then?" "OK, young lady, I forgive you. You're blond. It's a long, very long, story. Never mind. You don't want to know, really. I'm just a septic tank cleaner. What are you, a model or something?" "Yeah, right. I'm starting to like you already. No, I'm not a model. I'm the brainy blonde type. You know, like Sharon Stone. So she forgot her panties once. All us blondes have temporary memory lapses. I suppose you cleaned Sharon Stone's septic tank. She used to live just down the road." "Yes, I surely did clean Sharon's tank," he said with a wink and a smirk. "Now, where's yours? But first, can I use your bathroom?" "Sure," I responded and took him inside and pointed the way. When he was finished I went in the bathroom to wash my hands. Shorty got grease or something on my hand when we shook. "Hey, dipshit, you left the toilet seat up," I screamed at Shorty. "Do you know how the septic tank cleaner broke his back? He was getting a drink of water and a girl slammed the toilet seat on his head. Get the message, dude?" "Oh, yeah, sorry. It won't happen again." "Damn right it won't happen again. You can take a piss outside if you have to go again." I took Shorty to the backyard and pointed to the spot my father had marked. "Young lady," Shorty growled, "You have to dig." "Dig? Dig what?" "You have to dig around the top. The top is probably six inches under the ground and has to come off. That's how I get the big hose in. Get it?" "Yeah, I get it. The top comes off. Like this?" I was wearing jean cut-offs and a blue racerback bra that looks like a bikini top so I didn't bother with something over it. I undid the front close. "You like these?" I asked sarcastically as I exposed my breasts. "Now you fucking dig? I mean, you fucking dig, dude. The shovel is over there. You dig if you want to see any more of these," I snarled. "Young lady, do you know what's worse than a hurricane?" "Say what? OK, I'll bite. What's worse than a hurricane? Probably a fucking tornado." Shorty reached out with his left hand and gave my right nipple a mini-massage with his thumb and forefinger and answered his own question with, "A titty twister." I stopped his giggling with a hard slap in the face. "You mother-fucking pervert!" I screamed at him as I fastened my top. "OK, OK, young lady, I'm sorry but you asked for it, flashing your tits like that. OK, OK, I'll fucking dig." "Are you a virgin?" he asked of me innocently as he began to work with the shovel. "Say what? What the fuck kind of question is that?" "I just wondered, young lady. You talk so dirty. I was just curious." "Yeah, well you talk dirty, too. Are you a virgin?" "No. I lost mine quite young. My older sister, who was about your age at the time, caught me jerking off in the bathroom. She soon wanted some of what she said was the biggest cock she ever saw next to our father's, and she had seen more than a few according to the rumors. And my mother never could figure out why she kept wearing out the knees on her jeans." "You know, Shorty, I think you are full of shit and I'm not referring to cleaning septic tanks here." "Well, if you don't believe me, there is a picture of my manhood posted on an erotic web-site. The picture is captioned, 'Shorty Junior, all eleven inches and then some' so go look if you don't believe me." "On that note I'm going inside the house and make a few phone calls. I'll be back out in awhile to check your progress." I fell asleep for an hour on the couch in the den where the best air conditioner was. It was so damn hot and muggy outside. The thunder woke me. I looked outside. Snap, crackle and pop but there was no rain yet. I flipped on the TV. Tornado warnings flashed across the bottom of the screen on the local station. Shorty appeared to be just about finished when I went back outside. I looked down inside the septic tank and I couldn't believe how clean it looked. "Like brand spanking new," I complimented Shorty although I didn't know squat about septic tanks. "How did you get it so fucking clean?" Shorty began to give me a lecture on the scum layer, liquid effluent and sludge. "This is an awesome septic tank, young lady. Very large, 2500-gallon capacity, and one of the best money can buy. It was rather easy to get it looking like brand spanking new." He went on to tell me some of his rather disgusting anecdotes pertaining to cleaning septic tanks. I needed to change the subject because I thought I might vomit because of his shit talk so I asked him if he was thirsty. "Would you like a glass of water or something?" "I would prefer a beer, ma'am." "Beer? You drink while you're working?" I shook my head in disgust but went in the house and brought out a six pack, popped one open, took a long swig and handed the rest to Shorty. "Are you old enough to drink, young lady?" "I'm old enough to do any damn thing I want, dude. Just don't tell my father." "Holy shit, look at those storm clouds!" Shorty exclaimed. "Yeah, there is a tornado warning. Saw it on TV when I was in the house." "I hate to alarm you, young lady, but that sure looks like a funnel cloud to me over there in the southwestern sky." "What should we do? Do you want to go inside and down into the basement?" "No, actually, the safest place is right down there in the septic tank. The chemicals eliminated all the toxic gases and bacteria. You know of course that the boy who died in the killer tornado was in the basement." Now, that last statement brought back some horrid memories. I reluctantly let Shorty lower me into the tank and then he followed. He closed the manhole cover but for a few inches for air and had a large flashlight so we could see. "What are we going to do now? It's creepy down here. Although I must say you did a mighty fine job of cleaning this septic tank. I can't smell shit at all." "Creepy, but very safe. I know what we can do. Have you ever been spanked?" "Say what?" "Have you ever been spanked? You know, smacked on the ass." "Well, uh, no, not that I remember. My father would never ... and my mother just yells and swears when she's pissed at me." "Well, that must be where you got that dirty-talking mouth, from your mother. You are a rather snotty bitch; a warped and twisted little girl. I'm going to punish you. Take those skimpy shorts off." "I will not!" "Why? Aren't you wearing clean underwear?" "I am so. I'm wearing little white cotton panties fresh out of the dryer. Here, look." I unsnapped the skimpy cut-offs and let them fall. "Excuse me. Those aren't little white cotton panties. You are wearing an adult diaper, young lady. I really question whether you are an adult, at least mentally." "Oh shit, I forgot about the diaper. It's a bad time of month. Very, very bad time of month." "Well, lucky fucking you. That diaper will give you a little extra padding for the ass-whipping you are about to receive." Squatting on the floor with his back up against the wall, Shorty pulled me across his lap. I didn't struggle. He was too strong. Besides, there isn't much else to do in a septic tank to pass away the time. Shorty spanked me softly at first; too softly. I could barely feel it over the diaper. But then he put his hand down the back and stuck his finger up my bum. I think he was testing the water. "Yeow!" I squealed. "I didn't expect that but it felt pretty good." "I just wanted to see if I could get a reaction out of you. This diaper has to go," he insisted. "You might get a little, you know, on you." "Not to worry. Hey, I play in septic tanks all day." Shorty spanked my bare ass harder and harder until I cried out each time he hit me but I didn't say stop. I knew he would stop before I begged him because he was becoming aroused. I never would have believed I could have an orgasm without direct clitoral stimulation but I came three times while Shorty was punishing my buns with his huge paws. Well, I was rubbing up against his crotch as best I could as I lay draped across his lap. He slowly began to have an erection. I felt like I was a car being jacked up. "OK, bitch, now you have been properly punished," he stated matter-of-factly when he saw my ass was quite scorched. "It's time for your reward. Time to meet Shorty Junior up close and personal. You got a Polaroid camera? You can take a picture of my one-eyed monster cumming all over your face if you like. Most of my lady friends like to take pics of them sucking me off and they send them to that erotic web-site." "Uh, thanks, but I don't think so. About the picture I mean. If my father ever found out he'd send me to a convent. I don't relish the thought of old wrinkled penguins licking my pussy. Oh my God! That thing is big! Have you actually put it inside any girls who have lived to tell about it afterwards?" "Well, my mother said, 'Is that all you got, son?' and started calling me 'Needledick the Bug Fucker' in front of my friends. I was traumatized for years. Talk about parental abuse. Yeah, and if you think mine is big, you should have seen my father's. He didn't whip us with a strap. That big old boner of his got stuck right up our asses. My sister liked it but I sure didn't." "So, Shorty, I take it you want me to give you a blow job?" "Well, yes ma'am, if you don't mind I think I would like that. Did you ever suck cock before?" "I've been giving head for years. Long before I started screwing. Although I just recently started swallowing. I don't think I can deepthroat you, however, and I'll have to use at least one hand, probably both, in addition to my mouth to do this right. If I deepthroat you I know it will make me gag quicker than your dissertation on cleaning septic tanks." Ten minutes later Shorty Junior was squirting all over the place. "Geez, mawn, talk about your volcanic eruptions, this is definitely worse than a hurricane," I joked as I choked his pulsating monster dick with both hands while attempting to lick and swallow up as much cum as I could. "You know, young lady, I like you much better when you are not talking. Talk about a tornado! You give some blow job yourself. Now, is there anything I can do for you, sweety? I have my red wings. I don't mind a little blood, on my tongue or on Shorty Junior." "Give me another titty twister, Shorty! But let's make it in a few days from now when, you know, things aren't so red." Shorty slid the manhole cover off the top of the septic tank and poked his head outside. The sky had cleared. Tornado warnings now bring back both sad and fond memories for me. Shorty died the day after our escapade. He drowned in a septic tank he neglected to empty before he jumped in. His monster penis was removed and stuffed by the taxidermist who doubles as the local funeral director. Shorty Junior is now mounted on the wall of "Dick's Place" which is the one bar that survived the killer tornado. The "Blow Me" sign on the lady's room door must have been a good luck charm. Junior hangs there on the wall with the deer and bear heads. The morals I learned from this true story are that the best septic tank is an empty one, look before you leap, the best twister is a titty twister, if you are going to get the shit spanked out of you, wear an adult diaper instead of little white cotton panties, and a helluva blow job just might not be a tornado.