Aratego: A Stormy Night

Tim loosened his tie from around his neck a bit. Earlier in the day, shortly after he'd gotten to work, he had thought about loosening it up and maybe not even wearing one. However, one thing led to another – a meeting popped up then lunch with a client – and the day slipped away. Now, it was coming up on 5 o'clock and Tim was anxious to get home to his wife, Rosa. She had an appointment today, so she only worked have a day, meaning she was probably home for much of the afternoon by herself. Shortly after getting off of a call, Tim stepped up to his office window. Traffic was quickly building up on Mapplethorpe Parkway, running along the base of Creampie Ridge. The jungles thick canopy met with the sky in the distance. Thick clouds set over the city, acting like a lid on the hill-surrounded Aratego. Thunder rumbled in the background, almost like a calling letting Lascivious know there was something on the way.

"That's it, I'm out," Tim said. The temptation had just been too much. It was 4:30, so he was only going cut thirty minutes off of his day. Anxious to get out of there before whatever storm was on the way got to the city, Tim shoved documents into his bag then turned off his computer. Next stop was the elevator then a quick zig-zag through the parking garage.

Five minutes later, Tim crawled down Mandingo Boulevard. The street connected the lagoon with Orgasm Circle – a congested area where traffic always started for any of the streets that branched off into other directions.

"Dammit, I knew this would happen," Tim said. He wasn't the least bit surprised a storm was on the way. When he'd pulled out of the garage, he texted Rosa to let her know he'd be home in twenty minutes. Now, with the tree-lined Mandingo Boulevard clogged up, he figured he would call Rosa back and let her know he would probably be a little longer than expected with getting home. The thick clouds resting over Aratego started pouring rain by the buckets. People caught in it out on the sidewalks dashed toward intersections and across streets. He decided he would just go ahead and call her rather than try to text.

While Tim drove cautiously, he noticed someone standing in the doorway of a building's side entrance – the entrance, like in a lot of Aratego buildings, acts as an access to a staircase that usually leads up to apartments above storefronts and offices. His lane slowed just in time for him to make out what it looked like he was seeing. A car was pulling into a parking spot on a narrow, dark street just as Tim braked behind another car. A black man, naked as the rain poured down over the side of the building, stood behind the rain-water shield. He licked his lips, looking on anxiously as the white car finished parking then the doors open. Tim's eyes bulged when the guy turned back toward the staircase, as if he were checking to see if anyone was behind him or coming down the stairs. There was a light on in the background, giving the 6'3", lean muscular man's silhouette much more visibility. Nobody with functioning eyes would've not seen the swaying mass of meat between the black man's legs.

Traffic moved forward a bit. Tim glanced at the dark side street when he could as he carefully stayed a certain distance behind the car in front of him. Despite having to look away at least six times – six times too many, six times where each and every time he feared he would look back at the building's side entrance and find nothing but a closed door – he had looked at just the right moment to see what was happening: a couple exited the parked car, dashed quickly under the awning, then into the doorway. The woman was all smiles; the black man, the head of his manhood slapping against his thighs with every move he made, smiled seductively as he leaned down and kissed the brunette. The guy, who Tim presumed to be the brunette's husband, looked out at the street nervously then seemed to lose his train of thought. His head slanting down toward the black man's crotch, the man's eyes accidentally meeting with the black man's massive cock. After their brief greeting, the door closed swiftly.

A chuckle slipped out of Tim's lips as he shook his head. Rain poured so hard that having his windshield wipers on even the highest setting still wasn't enough. Traffic still crawled northwest on Mandingo Boulevard as it climbed a steady slope, toward the Black Cock Gardens. "I know how that guy feels," Tim commented to himself. He looked back at the building – a glance that would be forever imprinted in his mind with an image of a black man and his swaying cock greeting a couple, in from the rain. Briefly, the sweet memories from the night Nat fucked the living daylights out of his wife Rosa came flooding back to the executive. His lips curled into a smile, whether he knew it or not. Even though he'd been driving in one hell of a storm for the last twenty minutes or so, his mind was more at ease when he thought about Nat drilling his wife from behind. Such a site had been such an iconic moment for the husband.

Just as Tim had been getting a bit lost in the memories, his phone rang. He quickly snapped out of it. It was Rosa calling. "Hello?"

"Tim, did you leave the office yet?" Rosa asked. Her voice was a bit fret. "This storm looks pretty bad. The news is saying that they're closing certain streets downtown because they're flooding so bad. Supposedly, houses are flooding over in Port Lascivious."

"Yeah, I left already," Tim said. "And yeah, I'm not surprised to hear any of that. I'm on Mandingo Boulevard...and have been for a while. Traffic on here is pretty bad. I think it's about to get a little better because you know at a certain point, people pull off and start using other streets."

"I was just getting worried, you know," Rosa said. "I thought I saw the lights flicker earlier, but I could have been me just imagining it. I feel like I might have heard thunder, though."

"Yeah, I heard thunder when I was leaving the office," Tim said. "And I think this is gonna get worse. I feel like the news said this wasn't going to come until tonight, but you see they were wrong."

Rosa giggled.

Just as Tim had been about to speak, Rosa said something about someone calling her. He asked who it was, but Rosa had already rushed him off the phone. Tim looked at his screen when the call ended. His forehead wrinkled with confusion. "Who the hell could've been calling to where she would need to hang up like that?" He sighed. "God, I hope it's not her friend Sarah." Sarah always came around with dating drama – convo that Tim was sure rubbed off on his wife Rosa.

Tim trudged through the traffic until Mandingo Boulevard sloped up the hill. The neighborhood gradually improved, going from dense, lower-income apartments to condos with balconies and private gardens. When Tim pulled into his parking spot out in front of their white-stone apartment building, he'd just put the car in PARK mode when he noticed his living room light was on. The light being on wasn't odd, as he knew Rosa was there. What was odd, though, was that his wife seemed to be doing a lot of walking around, judging by the silhouette showing through the blinds.

"I wonder what that woman is up to," Tim said, chuckling as he was getting ready to brave the rain.

Tim had been wondering for much of the ride why Rosa didn't call back. He kept that very question on his mind as he darted with his bag – no umbrella – up the walkway and into the building lobby. A few minutes later, Tim was stepping off of the elevator and heading for his apartment door. At the back of his mind was the image of the big-cocked black man waiting at the doorway for the couple back off of Mandingo Boulevard. Tim so vividly remembered when the guy turned and how the light pronounced his body – his heavy cock and balls hanging between his legs. In fact, it was a bit ironic that Tim had seen such a sighting today. This morning, on his way down The Parkway of the Endowed, the 32-year-old had been thinking about that very thing – about how to broach the idea of another night with Nat. Tim loved his wife more than anything in the world. What that big black cock gave to her he knew he would never, no matter how hard he tried, be able to give that to her. And who was he to prevent his wife from having that kind of experience? Her happiness was first and foremost.

Tim let himself into their apartment and was quite surprised by what he saw. Rosa, in gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt, rushed around the house as if she had just been ordered to evacuate. Tim looked at her for a moment before he spoke. Rosa gathered up loose mail on the coffee table and stuffed it into the bookcase. She then yanked the closet door open and grabbed the broom. Tim watched his shapely wife rush over to the kitchen and start sweeping.

"What is going on?" Tim asked, dropping his bag into a dining room chair. "Rosa, what are you doing? Well, I should say why are you doing what you're doing?"

Rosa stopped for a moment, the dark-haired woman realizing how crazy she must've looked. She smiled. "Oh, sorry. I was so preoccupied I didn't even notice you came in the door, Tim. How are you?" She approached her husband with a smile then pressed her lips into his, kissing him. "I see you got soaked from the car to the door."

Tim chuckled. "Yeah, you can say that again. So, what are you doing? Why are you rushing around and cleaning up? Is somebody supposed to be coming over or something?"

"Well, earlier, when I was on the phone with you and had to click over," Rosa began explaining, "it was Nat calling."

Tim's heart suddenly thumped hard in his chest. Rosa glowed as she continued on with the story. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Rosa said, nodding. "He said that he was coming from Port Lascivious, about to cross into Aratego, you know, on Worship Street or whatever. And get this, Tim," she made a sad face, "Nat said that on the radio he heard his neighborhood was flooded already and the police are blocking streets to where people who live there and aren't already home can't get home to get anything. And did you know this storm could really cause damage and some real flooding because it's supposed to slow down a lot by the time it gets to the island and just kinda sit over top of us?"

"No," Tim said after a brief pause of trying to process everything. "I didn't know that, Rosa. So, what happened with Nat then?"

"Well, he asked if he could stop by here and maybe wait the storm out," Rosa answered. "But he didn't hear the part about the storm sitting over top of us when we were talking. His idea was to just come and wait on the storm to pass over then get home, but, the poor guy, he doesn't know that, according to the news, he won't even be able to get home for the rest of the night."

Tim processed everything and put it into context. "So, when is he coming?"

"Right now, Tim," Rosa said. "Well, he's probably held up in traffic just like you were. He's coming here right now, though, and I wanted to straighten up the place a bit before he got here."

Tim chuckled as he watched his wife pick back up where she left off. Nat is on the way, Tim thought. His neighborhood is flooding so bad that he's going to come and wait the storm out here. Well, actually, he could wind up spending the night. Yes, the man with a penis that humbled Tim to his very core the moment his pants dropped to his ankles was suddenly coming to spend the night. Tim smirked, wondering what could be going through his sweet wife's mind at just the thought of her unexpected company.

"Okay, I see," Tim said. "Damn, that sucks for him, though. Hope he doesn't lose his stuff in flooding or anything. You remember I told you I had an aunt that happened to. Lost everything to that big flood that happened out in Iowa that year." Tim turned toward the bedroom hallway. "I'm going to use the bathroom. Hold on a sec."

"Yeah," Rosa said, nodding as she raised her voice to speak over the running water and the clashing of the dishes at the kitchen sink. "I was just thinking that." She laughed. "Then, Tim, get this. We might would have to use that second bedroom finally."

Tim glanced back at his wife as she herself turned back to the sink. Rosa was obviously totally oblivious to what she'd just said and how it came across. Tim smirked then continued on to the bathroom. The very thought of the man who reached into unknown depths for Tim of his wife's sweet, rosy pussy living in the bedroom next to theirs was almost unfathomable. He could only imagine passing his open bedroom door in the morning and seeing his fat, limp shaft reaching up his torso as he slept.

No sooner than Tim started his stream of pee, he heard a knock at the door. "Dammit," he said, knowing that he had quite a bit left. Like any husband, Tim wanted to be present when any company came to the door. Doing such a thing was even more important to for this company – as this was company with a soft penis the size of Tim's erection; company who could make his wife orgasm and kick and scream in ways he'd never seen before.

Tim finished up as quickly as he could. Nat's deep chuckled echoed down the hallway then chatter between the two. Tim flushed, washed his hands, then rushed out to the living room. There, he turned the corner and looked toward the living room. He was met with Nat's muscular back. His damp blue shirt clung to his body, almost like skin. Tim stepped to the side just enough to see Rosa's face. His loving wife looked up into Nat's rough eyes with a big smile on her face. Nat looked at her as if he missed her – as if he wanted to grab her waist, rip her panties off, then bent her over on the couch and fuck her like there was no tomorrow.

Tim cleared his throat just as Rosa was going on about the possibility of Nat getting sick from being in those wet clothes. Quickly, the black man and Tim's wife both turned and looked at him.

"There he is," Rosa said, pointing. "Tim...Nat's here."

"I see," Tim said, smiling. He and Nat shook hands. "Hey man, how are you?"

Nat chuckled and smiled. "I'm better now," He glanced at Rosa – not at her face, but rather at her mid-section. "A lot better, really."

"Oh, okay," Tim said. For a brief moment, Tim's eyes locked with Nat's as Nat towered over him. Because of where the light was – behind he and Rosa –, Tim's muscular frame cast a shadow over the area between the dining room table and the front door. The look in Nat's eyes said a lot – said that he was reminding lovely Rosa's husband of the way he had with his wife. Tim, himself, thought back to when he'd been standing in the corner. The moment that Nat, with his clenching ass cheeks facing a stomach-sunk husband, turned and looked into Tim's eyes as he ravished his wife's pussy with deep, pounding strokes came across Tim's mind. The look Nat was giving then and the one he was giving now were similar in oh so many ways.

Rosa quickly shuffled around to the head of the dining room table and pulled the chair out – the chair where Tim sat every night they at dinner; the chair where the man of the house sits. "Sit down, sit down," she insisted. "We have to get you out of those clothes before you get sick. Tim, do you think you have anything he could change into?"

Tim looked on in disbelief. Rosa can't be serious? She wants him to undress? Even to Tim, though, he could see the guy was soaking wet. He watched as Nat's muscular black body walked suavely over to the chair and sat down. His shirt clung to his chest so much so that Tim and Rosa could see every indentation of his pectoral muscles as if he weren't wearing any shirt at all.

"I don't know," Tim said. "I would have to look. I might have a shirt he could wear. As for pants, well, I seriously doubt that."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Rosa said. "Let me know what you find."

Tim realized his wife wanted for him to go look right then and there. Hesitantly, he turned around and headed into the bedroom hallway.

Rosa helped Nat out of his shirt then ran her hand over his pronounced chest. "Wow, it must really be raining out there, huh?"

Nat chuckled, leaning back into the chair. "Yeah, it is. The streets are flooding. Certain streets have cars pulled over on the side of the road. People caught out in it, running as fast as they can to get where they were going. I almost thought I wasn't going to get here."

"Well, it's good that you got here," Rosa said. She hung his shirt on a hanger in the coat closet. "It's actually the best thing. I would hate to hear about you trying to get home and something happening because of this storm when you could come and stay here."

"Yeah," Nat said. In a sly manner, he reached up and wrapped his arm around Rosa's waist. He glanced passed her and toward the bedroom hallway. From the sound of things, Rosa's husband Tim was still looking for something Nat could put on. If it were up to Nat, though, of course, he would solve this problem by simply not having anything on at all. "Well, I was wondering when I was going to get to see you again." He pulled her closer then kissed her thigh through her pants. Nat then looked up at Rosa, wanting badly to stick his finger between her legs, but he wanted to be respectful toward Tim.

"Yeah?" Rosa said, smiling. "I was wondering the same thing. Guess things do happen for a reason."

As if such were even possible, the rain poured even harder. Rosa had stepped into the kitchen when Nat stood up and walked over to the balcony door. He slid the door open and stepped out, careful to stay toward the door just enough to not get wet. Parked cars lined Horny Street for blocks; the major streets crossing Horny in either direction moved along at a slow but steady pace. Thunder rumbled; a thick, unforgettable haze set like a wet blanket over the top of the rolling jungle in the distance behind Creampie Ridge. The spring in the side of the ridge, which produced a white, creamy waterfall, was nearly lost in the fog. Nat's head shook as he thought about the risks he would've been taking if he'd tried to get home instead of coming over to Rosa's and Tim's place. He turned and looked at the thick-thy, wide-butt wife as she cleared things off of the dining room table. She's nervous, she's frustrated. Something tells me this woman might have a lot pent up in her. I can fix that...surely better than her husband.

When Tim came out into the hallway with a shirt, the first thing he noticed was Nat missing from the dining room and Rosa nowhere to be seen. His heart thumped as the possibilities, inevitably, crossed his mind. Briefly, a mental image of Nat, with his back turned to the dining room area, holding Rosa up against the balcony glass while he ravished her pussy in midair crossed his mind. Then, Nat's massive black cock popped into the husband's mind. If that were truly the case – if Nat were fucking her brains out against the glass – Rosa wouldn't be able to contain herself.

"Okay, I found this," Tim said, stepping into the dining area. Rosa rushed out and grabbed the shirt. Tim noticed how she acted so invested in this particular part of the situation.

"Yeah, this should be okay," Rosa said. "I was actually just about to get a little dinner together." She and Tim were startled by sudden thunder. "He's probably hungry if you think about it, Tim. He drove all the way over from Port Lascivious in that storm."

Tim turned and looked at Nat. He had just turned around on the balcony and was now headed back into the apartment. Shirtless, his skin glistened under the living room light. His pecs almost seemed to bounce. When Tim turned back to his wife Rosa, he couldn't help but to notice the way she looked at the black man. Her mouth hung open. Tim then noticed how her eyes were a bit slanted, as if she were looking slightly down.

What is she looking at? Tim thought. He then saw what had grabbed his wife's attention so much that her sentence – whatever it had been – trailed off.