Storm Warning

As buildings went, this was certainly the best place Caitlin had ever lived. Just out of college and new to New York, she was still amazed every time she walked out of the subway and saw the brownstone that was now her home.

It was three stories of beautiful red brick, with large bay windows, and ornate wrought iron fences out front. She lived on the second floor, above a lovely older lesbian couple, with their two dogs and their fancy dinner parties. Upstairs there was a nice, if a bit mysterious, business man in his thirties named Henry.

The one thing she did know about the man upstairs is that he certainly had a lot of lady friends. There was nothing wrong with that, Caitlin supposed, but she didn't really understand it. He was fairly good looking, but nothing special. Plus, what kind of woman would go out with someone so promiscuous? It seemed like he had a new one every week.

She wondered if those women had any self respect at all. It's not that Caitlin was a prude or anything, but she had left her days of meaningless fondling and exploration back in Iowa. She'd come to the city for work and hopefully one day for love. She promised herself she wouldn't give herself to a man until she found one that she was truly in love with.

Most days after work she'd shop for fresh things for dinner. She'd buy flowers for her small kitchen table. She'd sit in the little nook in front of her huge window and read; breathing in the fresh air and thanking god she was out of the small town she grew up in.

Sometime Lena and Margot, the women downstairs, would invite her over for dinner. They always made something new and unusual like Indian curry or Moroccan rice. Plus they were vegetarians! Caitlin wasn't very adventurous with food, but she always made a point of giving their concoctions a try. Though honestly more then once she'd poured a bit of it into a napkin and fed it to their labrador retrievers.

One night about six months after she'd moved in there was a big storm that hit the East coast. Lena and Margot had gone out west to stay with some friends and couldn't get home because all of the airports were closed. Caitlin was looking after the dogs and when the storm hit she was worried. After a few hours of listening to the wind howl, the power went out, which was her worst fear.

She considered going out into the windy streets and trying to find a store that was still open. She needed candles or a flashlight and other provisions. She wasn't sure she could find a store since it was already dark out and there were no street lights.

Just as she was starting to really get worried, she heard the front door of the brownstone open. Rushing to the door she opened it to find Henry in the hallway picking up his mail.

"Oh, Henry! I'm glad you're home. The power is out. Do you think you might have an extra flashlight or something?"

Henry, as always, sort of looked her over. It made her a little uncomfortable, but he wasn't really being crude. He just took his time talking. He seemed to pay attention to everything. It made her feel very self conscious.

"Sure, don't worry about it. I have candles, flashlights, all kinds of stuff. Why don't you come up and you can pack a box of anything you think you'll need."

She smiled thankfully and closed the door behind her and followed the strangely imposing man up the stairs to the third floor.

Henry's apartment was set up very differently than hers, with beautiful art on the walls, an elaborate kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances and German minimalist design. It all looked like something out of a catalog or a movie set.

Henry pulled off his leather gloves and hung up his jacket.

"I have some candles and flashlights in this closet. There's plenty of bottled of water in the pantry. Canned food and so on as well. I don't think the blackout will last to long. Feel free to take what ever you need," he said showing her the pantry and the utility closet as he spoke.

Caitlin stood near the door and watched as he gave her a little tour. She knew he was probably a nice person, but there was something a little too aggressive about the way he walked around. There was something strange in his eyes when he passed over her, like he was smirking or something; maybe like he was making fun of her. It made her feel very much like a stupid small town girl.

"Are you alright? Sorry, I know the storm is a rough one. Do they have weather like this back in Iowa?" he ask, sitting on his leather couch and folding his hands in his lap.

She walked into the living room, convincing herself he was a normal guy and that she was being both rude and paranoid.

"Oh, in Iowa? They have all kinds of weather I suppose; even tornados."

He nodded, but she noticed he was staring at her intently. Specifically at her body, sort of evaluating her.

Caitlin was fit. She'd gained a little weight in college, though she'd been told that she wore it well since it was mostly in her butt and hips and breasts. She was medium height, pretty dark brown hair, pale skin and the thing most people commented on were her huge and vividly blue eyes. They made her look like a cartoon character sometimes.

Normally she was proud of her figure, but his eyes made her embarrassed. She realize how thin her pink t-shirt was and that the white bra under it was probably visible. She realized that her shorts were probably too short. They were the shorts she wore inside when it was warm. She wouldn't go out wearing them. Plus the t-shirt was very low cut. She probably looked like a tramp. A messy tramp with frizzy and out of control hair.

She was so wrapped up in embarrassment that she didn't notice at first, but Henry was sitting on the couch watching her and laughing.

"What- what's so funny?" she ask meekly.

He let out one last chuckle and waved away her question. "Nothing, nothing, just remembering a joke I heard the other day. Why don't you have a seat? I can heat up some dinner. A friend of mine was over the other night and made a huge pot of seafood risotto. There is enough for about a week's worth of meals."

She didn't sit down, she just looked at her feet as he stood up and looked her over again.

"No, no thank you. I don't really eat seafood. I should get back to the dogs. Have you met them? Tippi and Topper?"

He laughed again and she felt like an idiot. She didn't know why he made her feel that way. There was just something about his smug smile and his expensive glasses and his suit.

"I don't talk to the girls downstairs much. I get the feeling they don't like me," he said with a laugh.

She swallowed and looked back at the door.

"Oh? That's too bad. They're super nice. I- oh- if you don't talk to them how did you know I'm from Iowa?" she asked before she could stop herself. She was suddenly very nervous. She felt cold, but she couldn't quiet gather the strength to turn around and leave.

"Iowa? Hah. You're smarter than you look, hm? You caught me," he said laughing again and then reaching into his pocket and taking something out.

A small silver box. He flicked his fingers and a flame came out. She sighed; it was only a lighter. She then watched as he lit candles on the table in front of him.

"Iowa, Iowa, Iowa. You think about it a lot. All those people going nowhere. All those boys and their cheap beer and bad intentions," he said walking around lighting candles and getting out wine glasses.

"Yes, I suppose. That doesn't answer how you know about it," she was trying to put on a brave voice, but she was getting more and more anxious. Fear was spilling into her veins.

"I know lots of things, Caitlin. You wanna test me? I know secrets. That's what I do. I collect them like your father collected stamps."

She'd never talked to Lena and Margot about her father. She'd hardly told anyone in New York about him, let alone his stupid stamps. Her heart was pounding. She wanted to run out. Run away. Even the storm would be safer than Henry. He was a stalker or some kind of psycho or something.

"You're two letters off, sweetheart," he said absently as he uncorked a bottle of red wine.

"What? What are you talking about. How do you know these things?" she wanted to scream but the fear made her freeze up, her throat contracted and it all came out just above a whisper.

He sighed deeply and shook his head.

"Look, Caitlin, this really isn't half as interesting as I imagined, so we're going to skip the small talk and just get to the tits, okay? Okay."

She was mad now. He was just some kind of sicko. She was going to call the police. She was going to have him evicted. Right after she took of her shirt she was going to get her phone and call the police. She was shaking with hate for him; hate with fear all wrapped up with it. It made her fumble with her shirt and made it so she could hardly open the latches of her bra.

"Well, well, hello Caitlin. It's funny how some people aren't that much to look at until they're half naked. That farm living really did you right," he said sipping wine and then putting down his glass and walking over to her.

She was sickened by him. With her shirt off his leering was a hundred times more horrible. She just wanted to leave.

"D cup? 36D? Has to be. They're gravity defying. Let's lose the rest of the clothes and see what going on downstairs," he said standing a few feet in front of her and folding his arms patiently.

She shook her head. Some nerve of him. So what if he was right about her bra size. She almost threw her sneakers at him as she pulled them off. It would serve him right. She knew he wasn't even dangerous, just some kind of computer hacker or something who found out about her. Once she got the rest of her clothes off she was going down stairs and calling her brother. He worked for a computer company and could figure this all out.

"The bush. I knew it was coming and there it is. What is this, 1972? Seriously kiddo, you're in the big city now. It's gotta go."

The nerve of him! She was standing their naked, flawless skin, large almost comically pert breasts, a thinnish waist with thick thighs and a round ass.

"Everything that's right about the midwest," he shook his head in approval.

He walked over to her and traced a finger across her stomach. Her skin was smooth, hot and tight.

"Damn, if you weren't such a little pill, you'd be perfect," he sighed, cupping one of her breasts.

She was so annoyed. She should leave. Who knew what he would do next?

"Just because I don't put out for ever guy-" but she stopped suddenly, unable to get another word out.

"Shh. That's enough, kitten. It's time for old Caitlin to go bye bye," he said with irritation.

"But I do like all that confusion in your head. What makes you charming is how clueless you are. So let's see what we can do. First, let's put a little desire in that rusty libido," and with that he looked into her eyes and put a finger in-between her breasts and tensed his jaw.

She was looking at him with distain and then suddenly her body shuddered.

The first wave of desire flooded her mind and body at the same time and her knees almost buckled. The second wave was followed by the realization that she wanted to fuck this strange man in front of her. His finger was still there between her breasts and she thought about shifting her body so that it was on her breasts. Maybe a little, just so it was nearer to her nipple.

His smile was ear to ear.

"Want something, Caity?"

She grimaced. "No, you- weirdo! I should go. You're- weird," she said, unsure of what to do.

Suddenly she turned around, surprised that she could suddenly move she almost tripped over her feet. She walked towards the door, then remembered she'd taken off her clothes. Why had she done that? This guy was just really charming or something. She was so mad at herself she almost forgot to be ashamed.

"You're leaving, sweets? Are you sure you don't want some wine?"

"Fuck your wine!" she shouted, then she covered her mouth. It wasn't like her to cuss. It wasn't like her to shout either. She was all worked up though. Mad and still a little scared and all confused. She realized she was nervous too.

"Horny too, right?" he said under his breath.

She glared at him. How dare he? She wasn't horny. That's gross. She was, well, now that she thought about it she was kind of wet. The embarrassment crept over her face in red splotches. Her knees turned in as she wondered if he could tell how wet she was. She hadn't felt like this since prom night when Danny Johnson brought her an orchid and they snuck back behind the old man Miller's grain silo.

"A grain silo? What the fuck kind of life is that?" Henry shook his head.

"I have to go get some equipment. Listen, you are boring. That's not what happened during prom. Stand there and remember it again. You went with Danny what's-his-face, but you ended up dancing the last dance with Eloise Pickmen. That night you gave in to the feelings you'd been suppressing all through high school and blah, blah, blah, she went down on you in the bathroom. It was magical, but then a teacher walked in and caught you. The gym teacher, Mister Jacobs, who happened to look just like me. He made you both blow him and then he fucked Eloise doggy style while you laid under her licking her clit and then he came in your mouth. Right, dwell on that while I take a leak."

Caitlin's already huge eyes turned into saucers. How could she forget? Beautiful sweet Elouise! The mousy girl who blossomed into a little Betty Paige sophomore year. She remembered all the whispers when Elouise asked her to dance after Danny got drunk and went to throw up behind the bleachers. She remembered slow dancing with a girl for the first time and the foreign yet magical feel of their breasts pressing together. The heat of being pushed into a stall. The rush of Eloise's fingers pulling down her panties. The sound of crinoline and their moans.

And then the horrible shock of the door bursting open! And Mr Jacobs! He DID look like Henry, now that she thought about it. And he did terrible things. Caitlin remembered watching Eloise suck on his cock. How scared she looked at first and then how she started to get into it. How in no time Elouise was sucking it like she wanted nothing else in the world. Caitlin remember how confused she was and how scared and turned on she got and even jealous. Then it was her turn and Caitlin-

"Okay, enough memory lane. You know what the next memory is? That bush. It's bye-bye," Henry said with his smug smile back on.

"Let's make this easier on both of us, Caitlin. Listen, your pubic hair, you know that it's the thing stopping you from fully enjoying sex. I'm going to go eat dinner and you're going to go into my bathroom and run a bath and shave every hair below your navel off. While you're doing that you are going to get hornier and hornier. You're going to realize how horny you're getting and how unusual it is. Then, you're going to come out here and try and convince me to fuck you. After your bath you will realize that you really need to be fucked by me, because there is a hurricane and a blackout and no one else to fuck you and tonight you really need to get fucked. It's the most important thing in the world tonight."

As he spoke Caitlin's eyes glazed over. She stood still and silent and the words went right from his lips to her head. When he finished she looked like she was going to cry. There was a deep new need in her eyes. Like she was looking for water in a desert.

"Can I use your bathtub?" she said with a whine in her voice for the first time.

"My bathtub? Seriously? That's a little forward isn't it?" he asked, with his mocking laugh coming back.

She sighed and pouted and stomped her foot. "Pleeease, Henry! I really need to. There are no lights on downstairs and, and, I just need to!"

She was shifting from on foot to the other like she was a little kid waiting to go to the bathroom.

Henry was thoroughly entertained.

"Okay, fine, but, you have to give me a kiss first," he said pointing at his lips.

She pouted even more. He loved this look on her. She was trying to be so mature before and now she was a petulant college girl.

"I'm not going to kiss you! I don't even know you!"

He waved her whining away.

"How old are you, Caitlin?"

She glared at him. "Twenty-two, why?"

"How old?"

She shook her head and folded her arms over her breasts. "I told you! I'm eighteen! God! Can't you even hear?"

He laughed at his brilliance. "Priceless. Okay, you're eighteen and you need to use my bathtub and so you're going to kiss me."

She winced huffed and stomped her feet. Thought she was still the same person, here whole body language changed. Her shoulders slumped a little and her bottom lip stuck out. "Jeeeze, do I have to?"

He looked at her expectantly. She looked down at the floor and then looked up at him over her big lashes. "I… I never really kissed somebody really."

He rolled his eyes and walked up to her. He lifted up her chin and looked into those big blue eyes. She swallowed as he moved in and when he felt her soft lips tremble a little as he kissed her he let out a little groan. She was delicious. A timid little thing with a ridiculous body and something charming he couldn't explain.

He kissed her deeply and she swooned into the kiss. He gave it his all and slipped his arms around her. She melted into him.

When they parted her eyes were still closed. She was panting a little.

"Gee wiz, mister, you're a good kisser," she mumbled.

He shook his head but was smiling wide and his lips tingled. "Go bathe, hayseed."

The other night he'd picked up Leslie at a new Italian place in midtown. She was the sous chef and she had a way with seafood. Even heated up the risotto was some of the best he'd ever had.

As he ate he flipped through the little catalog in his head. All those secrets, all those memories. Debutantes, doctors, entertainment lawyers, estheticians. Stabbing a piece of lobster and savoring it, Henry summoned up all the technical know-how of an esthetician he dated a while back. He looked to the bathroom and saw in his mind's eye the pretty girl filling up the bathtub and shot the information into her head.

While he ate he rummaged through her head, picking out little monumental life events an shifting them. He inserted bits from novels; a little Dickens here and there, Jane Eyre, a big swath of Lolita, some Penthouse forum. He left all the small town guilt, he just gave her desires she could really feel guilty about. For a finishing touch he added some daddy issues, an oral fixation and a dash of masochism. Then he finished his dinner.

He looked in on her a few times and she seemed to be getting along well. He cleaned up, went downstairs and fed the dogs, switched the main breaker in the basement so the power went back on, checked on the girls in the chamber under the stairs.

When he got back she was wrapped up in a towel, her face red and here eyes wide an hungry. Her hands were nervously clenching and unclenching the edge of the towel. She was biting her lip.

"Listen, um, mister. Do you like me? Do you, um, think I'm pretty?"

He'd almost forgotten he turned her eighteen in her head. Looking at her recent memories he saw her in the tub, contemplating her pubic hair and realizing how it was the symbol of her prudish nature. Her luxurious shaving of her legs and every inch of her most intimate places.

"You're very pretty. Why do you ask?" he said, toying with her towel and backing her up into a wall.

She was filled with want, her skin bright pink for the hot tub and all the desires bubbling inside of her. Still there was all that guilt, all that

"I just, I don't know, I mean, maybe you wanna kiss me some more?" she was shifting her weight from one foot to another again and biting her lip.

"Absolutely charming," he marveled.

He kissed her again and she nearly pounced on him. The towel fell away and she nervously looked into his eyes with a look of pleading. In her head she was begging, "please like me, please think I'm pretty, please- touch me."

She couldn't ask him to fuck her, not even in her head.

He cupped her breasts and groaned at the delicate weight of them, the softness and the firmness of her skin. She whimpered as he explored her, his hand slipping down her side, around to her soft bottom, all the while he kissed her almost becoming dizzy with her hungry kisses.

All this time, all of these adventures and the hungry kisses of a woman still got to him. He relished that. He hoped he would never lose his ability to be transfixed by the simple things.

When his hand finally reached the now bare cleft between her legs his knees almost gave. There were few things he loved more than a neatly and freshly shaved pussy. He kneeled down in front of her and kissed all around, rubbing his cheeks on the smooth and soap scented skin. He let the very tip of his tongue slip between her somewhat chubby and swollen lips and found her ludicrously wet.

"Jeez mister, that's nice," her mouth said, but her mind was nothing but "please!"

Standing, straightening his tie, Henry walked to the bedroom, opening the door and leaving it open for her. She stood there, naked, her desire to cover herself up fighting with her desire for sex.

As he watched her he leafed through her mind. Safe sex, doctor's tests, all the details. He watched as she come to him, inching, fighting years of telling herself she was a good girl. He was undressed by the time she got there.

She stood at the doorway, leaning, letting her hair fall over her shoulder.

"Mister, can I come in here- with you?"

He nodded. He left her mind alone and watched her come to him, cat-like, crawl onto the bed panting from need. She crawled over his body, her breasts slipping along his chest. She kissed him, seduced him with her mouth, moaning into his lips.

"Turn around," he whispered.

She was confused so he just made her do what he wanted. She carefully turned around, still on all frogs on top of him, but now facing his hard cock. She lowered her self, so that her sex was just above his face and he growled as he kissed and sucked on her bare pussy. He relished in it, the taste, the feel on his tongue, the way it made her squirm. His senses were full of her legs on the sides of his head, her wetness in his mouth and his hands on her ass and then, pushing everything to the next level, her hot mouth on his cock.

Looking into her he felt his own fingers inside of her, he figured her out, like a puzzle, testing different kinds of pressure and sensation until he felt her body react. He rode her pleasure as he felt his own, his body and mind writhing.

When he pushed her off of him, his mouth and cock both wet, she looked into his eyes with a wholly different gaze. She was wanton now. They both kneeled on the bed and kissed furiously. His fingers were in her hair and she she gasped when he pulled it hard and forced her down on her belly.

She laughed as she wrestled with him, her arms tangled in the bed sheets, her body pressed down by his. His cock pressed against the softness of her ass, then as she struggled it slipped between her legs, finally as if pulled by a magnet, it found her count.

He fucked her hard and fast. It had been years since she'd had sex and when she did it was certainly nothing like this. He drove into her at the perfect angle, She felt full, finally getting exactly what she had wanted, what she needed.

The world was nothing but his cock and his hand in her hair and his mouth on her neck.

"Push back against me," he groaned into her ear and she did.

She pushed her ass back and felt him penetrate her harder. She got the rhythm and they were pounding against each other, the bed rocking, the sheets and pillows thrown about, a lamp falling from the bedside table.

When she started to come he put his hand in her hair again and as his fingers grazed her scalp. He experienced the full power of her orgasm inside of his own mind and his body started to climax. He then sent the sensations into her mind. She bucked and made a strangled scream of ecstasy. Her mind was nothing but waves of orgasm; his, hers, theirs, all of them together and amplified. She felt her penis shooting come into her body, the tight wetness of her own cunt from the inside and the outside.

As she writhed he pulled her hair hard and his mouth met her ear.

"You know what I did, don't you? How I changed you and controlled your mind? You're a weak little girl. I just want you to know before I erase all of this from your head. I just want you to see exactly what I did so that it plays back in your dreams."

Her eyes went wider and wider. It all made sense. How could she be such an idiot? From that moment she took of her clothes without realizing it. He controlled everything. It was too much, the world went black. She passed out cold. She slept.

*

After the storm Caitlin was happy to be back in her apartment. As she looked around she saw the dinginess of her little bedroom. She looked over her checkbook and realized that as much as she liked the brownstone it was probably a little out of her league. It was certainly nice, but having a smaller place, perhaps closer to work, would be even better.

Plus there was that creepy guy upstairs, Henry. She'd never really spoken to him much, but she had a feeling he was a jerk. She'd even had a dream about him. Thinking about it she realized it was probably because he looked like her old gym teacher.

As she paced around her bedroom she suddenly felt a little wave of dirty heat come over her, remembering her prom, remembering that one crazy horrible and completely erotic escaped.

"I'm going to move," she said to herself, deciding.

"I bet I could get Lidia, that redhead from my office to take on my lease. She said she was looking for a new place," she thought to herself as she started browsing the real estate section of the newspaper.

Republished with permission from Writing Dirty. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.