I spoke with my brother, Todd, shortly before 10:00 p.m. He and his wife, Anne, were stuck in traffic, already seven (7) hours into what is normally a four (4) hour trip from Houston to San Antonio. Although Todd didn’t live in a mandatory evacuation area, Anne was nearing term and didn’t want the normal stress associated with hurricane landfall to cause complications. I was almost six (6) hours south, out on an island near Corpus Christi, at the start of a new job with a local bank. Although three (3) days earlier, the news was warning about surges and evacuations, the NHS had moved landfall significantly to the north. We weren’t even in the cone. I wished Todd the best and asked that he give me a call when he made it to San Antonio. I wasn’t surprised when the phone rang early, but when Todd told me the storm was not going to make its projected northward turn and was heading for landfall within 50 miles of my condominium, I leapt out of bad. Todd told me to hit the road quickly, meet him in San Antonio, and we could ride out the storm together. I flipped on local television, and the reporter was confused and babbling. He gave out the usual evacuation information and said the outlying bands may begin to affect us in four (4) to six (6) hours. I was in the car in a matter of moments, and approaching the road headed toward the mainland. The sea was already choppy and the wind was brisk. When I caught a glimpse of the road, I came to a dead stop. Traffic was backed up for miles. My only route to head inland was to go further out the island, then turn left and get in line for the causeway. I did so. Then I waited. In a couple of hours, I hadn’t made it a mile. Finally, TXDOT opened the outbound lane for contraflow, and I made it quickly past the condo. Then, another dead stop. The rain got heavier, the gusts began rocking the car and the waves were smashing against the jetty and spray was pooling on the low roadway. The radio broke in with a traffic report that basically told me what I already knew: I wasn’t going to make it across town, much less to San Antonio. I was able to pull into a store parking lot across the highway and less than a mile from the condo. I parked as far away from power lines as I could. The store was still open. I grabbed a duffel I keep in the back and headed toward the store. Water was already off the shelves, so I had to settle for some club soda and a good amount of wine. I grabbed same snack food and got the limit on ice, two (2) bags. I glanced at my car figuring I’d never see it again, then began walking backwards to the condo. After about ten (10) minutes, the squall lessened, and I made some good progress. I had almost made it back when another squall hit. By the time I made it home, I was soaked and exhausted. I assessed what I had. A second floor unit in a three (3) story building. Concrete construction. I should be fine. I put the ice in the freezer, to keep it as long as possible. I chilled the wine. Put out candles. Filled every container I could find with water. Then I turned my attention to the French doors overlooking the bay. Trouble. After a little thought, I emptied the patio closet of the grill, tent and other camping gear. I removed the door. I tacked up a waterproof dining canopy. Nailed the door over one of the French doors and put a mattress over the other. I was as ready as I was going to get. I grabbed a club soda, stripped and took a long shower. I wrapped a towel around me to finish drying and went into the living room. By then, the satellite was already out and the internet was slow. I pulled out a radio. Got an update and a glass of wine. I pulled out a novel and was asleep in a manner of moments. The wind was getting stronger, and I woke up to find myself stroking my already thick, semi-erect cock. What the hell. I moistened a finger, stuck it up my ass, in and out, and kept on masturbating. Before I came, I heard a crash, ran to look out the bedroom window, and saw that the wind was fierce and the sea, the beach and the commons were indistinguishable.
Within seconds, the lights went out, and I heard a knock on the door. I was still covered by the towel, and I suspect I looked pretty swollen. I threw off the towel, put on a pair of jeans but couldn’t zip all the way up. The knock was frantic. Guy, the man who lived below me, asked if he could come in. He hadn’t been able to evacuate either, and the crash was the sound of a wave knocking out his French doors. I let him in, and he was wet and shaking. He wanted sanctuary up a bit higher. I didn’t really know Guy. He was a muscle beach sort and seemed friendly enough. Guy had grabbed some food, a radio and batteries, but no clothes. Clearly, he wasn’t going to make it back downstairs anytime soon. I motioned to the wine, was surprised he took some and went into the bedroom to grab some clothes. I knew my jeans weren’t going to fit, and I doubted a T-shirt would. I grabbed some gym shorts, a pair of briefs a denim shirt and some towels. Guy stripped off his soaked clothes right in the living room and toweled off. Obviously, a man very proud of his body, and comfortable with it. I have never been attracted to guys, or so I thought, but Guy was something. Apparently, he competed, so he had shaved his chest, pits, crotch and ass. The contours were will pronounced, and he had these amazing dimples on his cheeks. Guy skipped the briefs, slid into the too-tight gym shorts and put the shirt on. “I really appreciate this, Hewitt. I don’t mind telling you that flying glass and water really unnerved me.” I simply shrugged. Then we both took a sip of wine, he looked at me, looked down at me, then said, “Looks like I interrupted something.” Instantly, he was right in front of me, a hand on my bare shoulder and another hand brushing my still partially swollen cock, but not entering my fly. He looked me in the eyes, and simply asked, “OK?” If it had happened so suddenly, I would have recoiled and sent him packing. But I was both surprised and aroused. A powerful combination. For reasons I’ll never understand, I put my arms around Guy, and pulled his head toward mine. He began kissing me, and didn’t even bother probing through my fly. Before I knew it, my jeans were at my ankles. I lifted my right leg, and Guy stepped on the waistband as I stepped out of my jeans. He was vigorously massaging my cock. I reached over to pull his shorts off, but he took my hands off his waistband and moved them to his cock. Beneath the material, he was straining in moments. Without a sound, I was on my stomach, on the floor, my legs were spread and Guy’s tongue was circling my ass. Smooth. Warm. Wet. Wonderful. But, my cock was straining against the floor. Guy realized my discomfort, stepped out of his shorts, and flipped me on my back, then lifted my legs and separated them. The tongue massage continued. All I could do was moan. After he had completely moistened my ass, he blew lightly on it. I was writhing. Then, he moistened a finger and was inside me. Since this was one of my favorite masturbatory activities, I came quickly. All over Guy. All over myself. Guy lapped up and swallowed some of my cum, then began rubbing some on his cock. Then, he was inside me. Tentatively. Slowly. Gently. He was moving in and out. I had never felt anything like this before. I liked it. After a few moments, he pulled out, pulled me up and positioned me over the sofa arm. Then the tentativeness, the slowness, the gentleness ended. He thrust himself into me in one motion and began pounding relentlessly. I was in heaven. From time to time, he would slap my ass with his right hand. He’d grab my balls. He’d reach over and pinch a nipple. The storm was howling and so was I. Guy told me to clinch my ass. I had no idea what he meant. Then, he told me. Use your muscles. Like when you have to go but are holding back. I tried it, and my muscles grabbed at his cock. From then on, it was pure instinct. I’d grap and work at pulling in further. He began screaming. He tensed up. He began to move from side to side. Then he shot. A large volume. Straight up my ass.
ickly pulled out. Flipped me over again, and emptied the rest into my mouth.
By this time, I was hard again. Then the gentle Guy was back, his lips circling my cock, and his head bobbing to the rhythm of the waves crashing. Within minutes, I filled his mouth. He made an “um” sound, then swallowed.
Guy picked me up, embraced me and moved me over to the sofa. We fell asleep in each other’s arms. We were spent, but the storm was still raging.
Waiting for the eye ….