Aratego: A Stormy Night

As Nat walked back over to the dining room, his soaked pants clung to his skin much like his shirt. His muscular legs looked as if they were trying to burst out of the denim; the waist was riding down from each step he took. At times, he had to grab the waist and pull his pants back up to his waist. What fascinated Rosa, and now Tim himself, was the swaying bulge in Nat's crotches. His massive cock curved over his left thigh, snaking down his left pant leg. Even though Tim and his wife Rosa had been the black man's massive cock the first night he drilled into never-reached depths of Rosa's pussy, seeing it soft and clinging to his leg in his pants was remarkable in itself.

"Yeah, I can wear this," Nat said. He approached the table, smiling as he accepted the shirt. "It'll be a little tight, but it's okay."

Rosa snapped out of her gaze; Tim hadn't done the same until a few moments later. Still lost in his many thoughts, he gazed at the massive imprint in black man's pants. There was no way any husband in all of Aratego wouldn't see this guy's endowment with how tight his soaked pants clung to his body. The well-endowed black man waiting in the doorway down on Mandingo Boulevard popped into Tim's mind. He then glanced at his wife, wondering what was going through her mind as well. Rosa loved Nat's big black cock so much that she went on and on about it for days after he'd come over the first time. Each time, there was a gleam in her eye unlike Tim had ever seen.

"Okay, good," Rosa said. She watched as Nat pulled the shirt down over his head then body. "Sorry, but that's all we have. Tim, you didn't see any pants or sweatpants or something you think Nat might be able to squeeze this body of his into?"

Tim now snapped out of his gaze, stammering as he pulled his eyes up from Nat's massive bulge. "Uh, uh, no," he answered. "I looked, but all the pants had waists that would definitely be too small."

"Oh, damn," Nat said, biting his bottom lip as if he were thinking of a solution. "That's okay, I guess. I guess they'll just dry from me walking around."

Rosa's head shook. "No, I doubt that. We will just have to figure out something because you can't be walking around in those pants in this apartment all night and somehow think that they'll just eventually dry. They need to be hung up or something." Thunder rumbled; flickers of lightning jolted through the dense gray clouds setting over the city. Aratego seemed to be getting darker by the second.

"Why not?" Rosa said, swaying her hand dismissively. "You might as well just take them off. What other option do we have?"

Tim's heart thumped so hard he wondered if his wife or Nat could hear it. The thought of this hung black man taking his pants off right there in his dining area, on an unplanned visit that could potentially turn into an overnight stay, drove him crazy.

Tim sensed eyes looking at him. Nat and Rosa looked as if they were waiting on his response. "Yeah, I don't see why not," Tim said. "You can't walk around here in those pants. They'll never dry."

Nat grinned then turned his attention to Rosa. Almost acting as if Tim were invisible, he looked into her eyes then gently rubbed her forearm as he thanked her for trying anyway.

Tim and Rosa watched, both anxious in their own way, as Nat stepped back then started to undo his buckle. Rosa's eyes didn't seem to blink while she looked down at Nat's crotch. Tim's heart thumped; he felt that feeling down in his own cock that was telling him it was about to rise. It'd been nearly a month since Nat took Rosa's pussy in their bedroom just feet down the hall from where Tim stood. Tim himself was anxious to see the cock that solved his wife's every want and need once again.

Just as Nat had gotten his buckle undone then his zipper, he went on to grabbing the waist of the pants when a loud thunder boomed in the sky. It was so loud the apartment walls seemed to rattle for a moment. A bolt of lightening so big and bright reached out of the sky and struck a random spot n the jungle off in the distance – so bright that Horny Street lit up. Then, a buzz sound followed. Next thing Rosa, Tim, or Nat knew, just as the light shined on the waist of Nat's bright white underwear then his pubic hair, the electricity went out.

**

"Glad we still had these," Tim said, pulling a handful of tealight candles out of a kitchen drawer. "These should help."

"Yeah, and I found those candles I bought a couple of months back," Rosa announced from the closet doorway. "Glad I bought them 'cause I figured sooner or later they would come in handy."

Nat stood back as the couple zipped around the dark apartment to get candles. The building had gone quiet – no televisions, no lights, no refrigerator humming. His eyes paid particularly close attention to Rosa as the succulent, loving wife bent over in the closet doorway as she looked through a box on the floor. From where Nat stood, thanks to what little light was still left outside, he could clearly see Rosa's shape as she bent over. If he didn't know any better, he would've sworn the wife had gained some weight since the last time when he'd been over here pummeling her pussy like there was no tomorrow.

Tim found a lighter then they placed candles around the kitchen, living room, and dining room until the place was as bright as it was going to get. Rosa apologized to Nat for the power going out then talked about how she didn't know what they would eat for dinner since the kitchen couldn't be used at this point.

"Well, I'm not that hungry right now," Nat admitted, extending his arm to stretch while his pants were a third of the way down his legs – just low enough to where the base of his shaft showed through his underwear. "Were you needing something to fill you up?"

To fill you up? Tim thought. Again, his eyes locked on Nat's bulge.

Rosa chuckled then reached out and playfully tapped Nat's muscular shoulder. "No, I'm fine, for now," she said. "Now, let's not let you get sick."

Nat chuckled then licked his lips. He locked eyes with Rosa, knowing exactly what this sexually-starved wife was waiting to see. He glanced over at Tim, his face confused but also anxious, then cupped his bulge. "Yeah, you're right," Nat said. "Let me go on and get these pants off."

Rosa rubbed her hands together as she watched Nat pull his pants down then step out of them. He then handed the pants to Rosa, who graciously took them. Now, Rosa and her husband's eyes both glared at Nat in his underwear. The white fabric clung to his black skin.

"Damn," Tim said softly, the word slipping out of his mouth.

In one quick swoop, Nat yanked his underwear down then stepped out of them. He picked them up and looked at the couple. Both Tim and Rosa stared at his impressive manhood. The veiny member dangled back and forth between his muscular thighs, looking as if it weighed a pound all by itself. The head slapped against his legs so hard the entire piece of meat would bounce around to the other leg. Even though Nat had stopped moving, his dominating figure standing still and towering over Tim and Rosa, his soft dick still swayed for several moments until finally stopping and hanging down over the front of some egg-sized, chocolate balls.

"Um, I don't know what you want me to do with these," Nat said, a bit awkwardly. He stood there, in nothing but the shirt Tim had given and his own socks, with his huge cock out on display. He glanced down at himself then up into Rosa's eyes. She stared, candlelight flickering in the room at virtually every angle of the big black man's body. More than anything, she wanted to reach out and feel his skin.

"Oh, uh," Rosa said, snapping out of her hypnotized state. "I'll take those and we can hang them up too."

Rosa, trying to get back into her hosting mood, took Nat's underwear. She then grabbed his pants and zipped into the bedroom hallway. There, too deep into the hallway to see from the living room, she opened the door and scrimmaged around for a hanger. The bar reaching across the closet had been empty for some time, so it was the perfect place to hang Nat's pants and underwear.

While waiting on Rosa to return, Tim swallowed as he turned back toward Nat. A sense of nervousness came over him that hadn't come over him when they first met Nat. Actually, up until Nat's big long cock gave Rosa the ride of her life right before his very own eyes, Nat was kind of easy to be around, or so Tim found. This moment felt different, though. Tim wanted to start conversation; his mind came up blank. The urge to say something – anything at all – was too strong. Thanks to the power going out, Rosa was taking a little longer than usual in the closet. Tim glanced at the hallway once again then turned to the big black man. His intention had been to make eye contact with the hung man and maybe get the nerve to say something to break the silence. Instead, his eyes wound up glued to the swinging manhood in Nat's loins...again and again and again.

Nat cleared his throat then turned around and stepped over to the balcony door. He looked out, his bare ass facing Rosa's husband. "This storm looks like it might actually be getting worse."

Tim struggled to nod. "Yeah, I could see that." Thunder rolled boldly. "It almost does seem like it's worse than when I got off work."

Tim watched as Nat cupped his swaying cock and massive, full balls. He opened the balcony door and leaned forward. With where Tim was standing, he could see the front of Nat from his left side. The husband watched as the black man's huge soft dick and balls dangled away from his body before he grabbed them, as if he were doing so to protect them. There was something so natural about the way the Lascivioun held his endowment; a sense of care and appreciation came through in his actions.

Rosa came walking back into the living room. "Okay, Nat, I have them hung up in the closet in the hallway, just so you know."

Rosa stepped back up to her husband's side. She noticed how he looked ahead in the living room. Just as she was about to say something, she of course noticed Nat at the balcony door. It looked like the naked, well-hung black man was about to step out onto the balcony and possibly get wet even more. Rosa darted across the living room floor. She grabbed his bulky, muscular arm.

"Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?" Rosa asked, pulling Nat back into the living room. "We don't need you getting wet all over again then being outside. Yeah, it's warm and stuff right now. But even though there's all that jungle, you know the storm can bring cold wind through the island."

Nat chuckled. He could have easily stayed in his place with Rosa's feminine grip being nothing to match his. He bit his bottom lip, smiling and laughing because he'd been thinking that Rosa might say something. The tall black man ducked his head a bit then stepped back into the candle-lit living room. Chuckles slipped out of his lips. He then watched as Rosa closed the balcony door as if she were making a statement.

"Dang, I was just looking out," Nat said.

"No, you'll just get rained on then maybe get sick," Rosa said. She locked the balcony door then pulled the curtains partially closed. When she turned around, she took a moment again to visually appreciate Nat's swaying soft cock then looked at her husband Tim. "So, we didn't have anything he could wear like shorts or sweatpants or something."

Tim had been in a bit of a hypnotized state for the last several seconds. He watched his wife, almost like a mother and child, rush over to the door and pull the black man back into the apartment. He watched the way his wife pulled the black man's arm – the very same arm attached to the hand that was cupping and holding his manhood, almost as if for support. Whatever commotion there was, either from Rosa scorning Nat or him laughing as he stepped back into the apartment quickly, that massive black cock, being freed from Nat's firm grip, violently swayed back and forth between Nat's powerful thighs. "Shit," slipped out of his mouth when Nat had stepped over my the couch. There, he stood right in front of a candle on a side table. His cock seemed to swing thigh to thigh for several seconds before finally coming to a stop and dangling.

Tim shook his head, realizing his wife had said something to him. "Huh? What did you say?" He listened as Rosa repeated the question. "Um, no." He finally stood up firmly and stopped staring at Nat's cock. "Only thing we had that would fit him is the shirt. My pants are too small...too short and too small in the waist."

"Oh, okay," Rosa said.

Still pant-less, feeling the apartment air on the lower half of his body, Nat shrugged his shoulders. "Guys, that's okay, really. I'm just grateful, Rosa, that you invited me into your home so I wouldn't have to be out in this storm. I don't know what would've happened to me if I went on home and didn't have anywhere to stop." He stepped up to the glass and looked out beyond Creampie Ridge. Because of how the ridge protruded into the city, kind of like a peninsula in itself, Hung Low, the low-lying neighborhood at the west side of Aratego, where Nat lived, curved around the backside of the cliff, making it out of sight. "It is probably flooding."

Tim and Rosa admired Nat's body then Rosa rushed over to him. "I know how you must be feeling," she said. She put her hand on Nat's shoulder. "And please, don't act like it's a big deal because it only makes sense that you stop by here to wait out the storm."

"Okay, I just didn't want to intrude," Nat said. He looked out at the ridge with a perplexed look, almost as if something was on his mind.

Tim noticed Nat looking out as if he were really fearful of what might be happening in Hung Low. He felt like he needed to say something to the guy too. He walked over toward the balcony door, stepping up only feet behind Nat. Rosa looked at her husband and grinned. In their husband and wife stare, one knew what the other was thinking: this guy probably has a lot on his mind.

"Man, really," Tim said. "It's okay. Just relax, relax."

Nat forced a smile then turned toward the couple. "Okay, well, thank you," he said. "I'll just have to wait until whenever I can go home tonight to see what has happened, if anything."

The rain showers wreaked havoc over Aratego and became stronger by the minute. Then, suddenly after several minutes or relatively low rumbles, a loud burst of thunder came from the sky. A huge lighting rod shot out of the clouds, into the jungle in the distance. The entire apartment lit up for a split second; pictures rattled on the wall.

Rosa screamed at the top of her lungs as everyone, in a split second, looked toward the balcony door. Before anyone knew it, Rosa stepped up to Nat's side and gripped his arm as she looked out at Creampie Ridge. Nat consoled the terrified wife. "I've lived on this island my entire life," he explained. "Some of the storms are bad, but they don't generally get that bad to where you would have anything to worry about if you live in the city...especially in Aratego."

"Okay, okay," Rosa said, calming down. She let go of Nat's arm then stepped back and stood on her own. She took a couple of deep breaths then said, "I got an idea," Rosa said. "Maybe we all should have some wine and try to relax. There's nothing else we can really do during a storm like this."

Tim watched as his wife, who he had just watched latch on to his well-endowed man, dart toward the kitchen and carefully pour three glasses of wine. Nat turned away from the window. Suddenly, his face of concern and deep thought – the face he had that made Rosa dart over to him in the first place and rub his big muscular shoulder – changed. Right in front of Tim, Nat looked over at Rosa's wide hips and thick, heavy behind as she reached up to the top of a cabinet and grabbed the bottle of wine. He licked his lips then, almost as if he'd forgotten Tim was standing there. A quiet smirk slipped out of Nat's lips.

Tim's heart started to thump. A light wave of anger ripped through his body. Nat, his shoulders high and his cock swinging between his legs in such a way that the head made a light thumping noise when touching his legs, walked over to the bar stools. He set at the counter then turned himself, with his legs wide open, toward a candle on the other end of the counter. Tim made his way over as well. Still, he was mostly speechless. What could he say? Rosa's nurturing side was out and in full swing for this horse-hung black man.

"Okay, okay," Rosa said, setting a glass down in front of Nat then handing one to Tim before taking her own. "Let's all just relax for a while. Maybe let the storm be soothing music for a while."

Rosa came around to Tim and they stood in front of Nat. She glanced at Nat's big black cock dangling over the front of the bar stool. Rosa held her glass up and suggested they make a toast. "Tim, what do you think we should toast to? I can't come up with anything."

Tim had long zoned out. In fact, he'd been so zoned out that he hadn't even realized his wife handed him a glass of wine. Like a pendulum, Nat's cock dangled down the front of the bar stool in a way Tim had never seen before. Because of his angle, the nearby candlelight made every fucking detail of his massive black cock even more pronounced. Tim wished he was half the man Nat was. Hell, this black man's completely soft cock was longer and thicker than his own throbbing erection. If Nat even chuckled the least bit, his heavy balls tightened up for a split second. How do some of them get such fucking big cocks?

"His cock," Tim said, his voice soft and underlain with disbelief.

"Tim!" Rosa said, slapping her husband's shoulder. "What did you say?"

Finally, Tim looked up. His cheeks flushed red; he realized what had happened. "Uh, I mean."

"You said his cock," Rosa said, her smile only getting bigger and bigger. Again, she slapped her husband's shoulder. She laughed. "You think we should make a toast to Nat's cock?" She glanced down at it, wanting so bad to reach out, wrap her hand around the base, and tug it gently. "Huh, Tim?"

"No, no," Tim said, wishing that his thoughts hadn't come out the way they did when they did. "Not to his cock, uh." He struggled to come up with anything to say that could backtrack out of taking 'his cock' when asked about a toast. "I didn't mean his cock. I meant, um."

Nat stood up, chuckling. He put his hand on Tim's shoulder. "It's okay, man," he said. Rosa's husband had been flustered almost more than when Nat's long, torpedo-like endowment sent his wife into an exorcism-like orgasm. "Really, it's okay."

Tim chuckled nervously, glancing at Nat's dangling manhood then back at his wife. Rosa chuckled then held her glass up to initiate the toast. "Let's have a toast to Nat," she said.

Tim held his glass up then the three of them, with Nat smiling bashfully, clacked the rims together. As they sipped, Tim looked at Rosa. The smooth, red wine flowed down his throat as he imagined his wife, locked in the grip of this big black man standing across from her, as he pounded her pussy in ways he never could. And here Nat stood, with nothing but a white shirt and white socks on. His massive cock simply dangled in front of him until he sat back down on the bar stool.

Rosa noticed Nat gulping his wine down. "Oh, wow, I see you like wine," she said.

Nat noticed how much was left in his glass compared to Tim and Rosa. He chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was drinking it so fast."

"Yeah, man," Tim chimed in, "you're really guzzling that shit down."

Nat set his glass down on the counter, with only about a fourth of it still filled with wine. "You're right, you're right. I just need to calm down. Really, I shouldn't drink that much wine anyway. With what wine does to me..." His head shook.