Hurricane Season

by Patient Lee

  "Yes. It was," I said with a smile.

  The sun had cleared the horizon. It was a beautiful red color. Heather took Martín's dick out of her mouth long enough to say, "Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning...."

  Martín took advantage of her break to lay her on a lounge chair and fuck her pussy with long strokes of his hard cock. She pinched her nipples, and suddenly I wanted to be pinching them. Instead, I turned and took Carla's nipple in my mouth. "Atta girl," she said.

  I slid my finger between her pussy lips. She moaned as I pushed two fingers into her cunt. I eased her onto another lounge chair, spread her legs, and started eating her out. Never in my life had I considered performing oral sex on another woman, and now I had my mouth on my second pussy in twenty-four hours. It felt deliciously dirty.

  Heather had taught me well, and it wasn't long before my head was squeezed between Carla's legs, and I collected a mouthful of the juice from her pussy. As her orgasm peaked, she moaned long and loudly. As she let me go, I felt proud of myself, but she jerked me back to reality when she said, "You are such a naughty girl. Going down on my pussy like that makes you such a bad little lesbian."

  I blushed, and she said, "Martín is going to have to give you a big spanking now." My stomach did a flip-flop. Martín's hands were huge. I couldn't imagine the pain of being spanked by such large, strong hands. Martín pulled his cock out of Heather, who joined Carla on the lounge chair. Just before Martín pulled me over his knee, Carla's head dipped between Heather's thighs.

  He bent me over one knee, using the other leg to keep me from squirming too much. His wet cock poked my thigh as he settled me and brought his hand up for the first spank. He let it hang there for a minute, and I tried to squirm away. When I thought he had changed his mind, he brought his hand down hard on my right cheek. I yelped. His spank was much harder than Carla's.

  Again he paused, and the anticipation was killing me. My pussy was throbbing, and my ass felt hot. I whispered, "Please," as he brought his hand down over and over. I didn't count how many times his hand made contact with my sore bottom.

  The more I heard the sharp crack of his hand and felt the stinging pain, the hotter I got. "Spank me. Spank me," I yelled.

  Then Martín caressed my red-hot buttocks. He whispered in my ear, "Me duele la mano. My hand hurts." I smiled and knelt between his legs, taking his cock into my mouth. I could taste Heather's pussy on his cock as I heard her announcing her approaching orgasm. He allowed me to suck his cock for a couple of minutes before he pulled me up, and bent me over the table. The tip of his cock brushed against my pussy lips, and I pushed myself back against him.

  The day heated up as the sun climbed higher in the sky, but the wind was picking up, reminding us that Hurricane Tomas was still on his way. I was too busy with Hurricane Martín to worry.

  Heather and Carla came over to the table, and they eased me onto my back. Martín fucked me while Carla climbed on all fours over me and licked my clit. I tried to reach my tongue to her pussy, but Heather said, "Just relax. I'll take care of Carla when I get back."

  I didn't ask where she was going.

  Carla licked my pussy with a completely different technique, perhaps because she was positioned on top of me. The slippery underside of her tongue, and then the rough top slid along my clit. Martín's cock felt huge inside my pussy.

  I had never been fucked and eaten at the same time, and my brain was on overload, trying to process the sensations.

  Martín took his cock out of my pussy, and Carla sucked it for a few minutes. Heather returned with a small, penis-shaped vibrator, which she inserted into Carla's pussy. Once again, I stuck my tongue out to lick her clit, while the vibrator went in and out of her pussy. She was so wet, she was dripping on my face.

  Carla returned to licking my pussy stopping only to tell Martín, "I think it's wet enough now." Heather put down the vibrator and went to Martín. I couldn't see what was happening, but I thought I heard a bottle or tube of something being opened. Martín's hair tickled my thighs, and he spread my legs even farther apart. I had no idea what was going on.

  As Carla licked my clit, Martín's tongue pushed into my cunt. He gave it several thrusts before moving lower. His tongue touched my buttocks, and then he spread my cheeks apart. I gasped loudly when his tongue touched my asshole. I had never had anyone lick my hole before, and it sent sparks of pleasure through my body. His tongue entered my asshole, and I just thrust my hips forward, trying to get more of his tongue inside me.

  Heather announced to me, "Martín's going to fuck you in the ass. Have you ever had anal sex before?" Hearing the words "anal sex" for the second time that weekend along with Carla's tongue, still working my clit, brought a gush of pussy juice out of me. I shook my head, but Heather couldn't see that.

  Martín's well-lubed finger rubbed my hole. He pressed a little, and the tip slid in to the first knuckle. My sphincter tightened to keep the intruder out. He pressed in again, and his long finger snaked up into my ass. "¿Está bien?" he asked.

  "Sí." I spread my legs wider. Carla stopped licking to allow me to get used to having something stuck in my ass.

  He slid his finger in and out and twisted it around. Heather said, "He's going to try two fingers now. Just relax and bear down a little. It will help them slip right inside."

  I moaned out loud this time as his fingers entered me. He took several strokes then, without announcing it, he added a third finger.

  Heather said, "Oh, Sweetie. You're doing so good!"

  I stifled the urge to correct her grammar. Instead I said, "I'm ready. Fuck my ass, Martín. Stick your cock up my ass." Carla suggested that the first time might be easier if he fucked me from behind, so we switched spots. Carla helped him spread my cheeks while Heather played with my tits.

  I was terrified. A cock up my ass? This was going to hurt like fucking hell.

  And it did. Despite the copious amount of lube they had applied to both my asshole and Martín's cock, it hurt. It took a couple of minutes for him to ease the head through my sphincter. I repeated over and over, "Oh, shit. Oh, fuck." There were tears rolling down my cheeks. I didn't think I could continue.

  Heather kissed my face, rubbed my tits, and whispered, "Just relax. Remember to bear down a little. You'll get used to it in a minute."

  As my sphincter finally adjusted to the head of Martín's cock lodged in my ass, my breathing slowed, and I could finally say, "Ok, but go slowly. Muy lento, por favor." Carla let more lube drip onto my ass and his cock, and he pressed forward, just a little bit. He pulled back that same little bit then pressed against me again, a little farther this time.

  Suddenly, Martín pulled my hips back toward him as he thrust his cock all the way inside my ass. Heather twisted my nipples hard to confuse my pain sensors. It worked. White-hot pain stabbed the middle of my body, but it wasn't unpleasant.

  Once the shock subsided, I nodded to give Martín permission to slide his cock out again. The walls of my rectum accepted the stranger, and I realized that the pain was good, like the sting of a hard spank was good.

  I rocked my hips back and forth, yelling, "That's it. Fuck my ass. Stick your cock in my ass. Squeeze my tits. Make me cum." Carla put her hand between my legs, and rubbed my clit in a tight circle, right on the side that feels so good. Pleasure and pain mixed together into a delicious cocktail, and I knew I'd come soon. I was throwing my head back, holding on to the table for dear life.

  Martín's balls slapped against my pussy. Carla's fingers swirled around my clit, and Heather's tongue and lips locked on my nipples again. I was close to coming as I concentrated on the huge cock reaming my asshole.

  All of a sudden, Carla hit just the right spot, Heather bit my nipple, and Martín shoved his cock higher up into my rectum than ever. I screamed, first a wordless, high-pitched scream. When I could finally find words, I kept screaming, "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck my tight asshole. Come in my asshole. I'm coming. God damn, I'm coming with your cock in my asshole!
"

  The spasms from my anus were enough to put Martín over the edge. His cock twitched as he unloaded his cum in my ass. As he came, he spanked my ass again. Not as hard as before, but his dick was still firmly lodged in my ass, so it was a little more painful.

  His cock softened and slid out of my ass. Immediately I felt empty, and I wished I could have more. Carla kissed Martín, and Heather kissed me.

  Suddenly we all heard a loud voice saying, "This is the United States Coast Guard. You are ordered to evacuate the island immediately. You must be on the mainland by noon today, or no assistance will be available."

  We looked up, and right in front of us was a Coast Guard boat with four men lined up along the rail. All four were staring at us through their binoculars. They had gotten quite a show. I tried to cover up, but Carla just stood up on a chair in all her naked glory, and told them that we had a boat, and that we would be leaving within the hour.

  They gawked for a few more minutes. I felt Martín's cum dripping out of my asshole, and I was embarrassed. Just for show, Carla smacked my ass one more time, and Heather kissed me hard, shoving her tongue in my mouth. I looked back and saw two of the Coast Guard men rubbing their cocks through their pants. That made me laugh.

  We showered, got dressed, grabbed our things, and headed for the boat.

  Chapter Eight

  Six weeks later, my "fabulous vacation" is where I go in my head when I masturbate. I have discovered that I can come twice if I really concentrate on the details.

  I was checking my email, thinking that I would have a marathon masturbation session tonight after dinner. I scanned through the usual junk until I got to one that said Hurricane Season. I was intrigued, due to my recent brush with Hurricane Tomas, so I clicked.

  It was an ad for a pornographic video. The cover said, "Hurricane Season: Dumb Bitch Gets Fucked, Sucked, and Sodomized on Hidden Camera." Then I saw my own face on the cover, smiling as cum dripped from my hair. I was mortified, but that didn't stop me from ordering the video with overnight shipping.

  I am so fucking gullible.

  THE END

  If you enjoyed the story, please leave me a review on Amazon. Thank you!

  Acknowledgements

  My fellow authors from the Hot Summer Reads Anthology have been absolutely essential to the change in mindset responsible for releasing my work on Amazon.

  Since I started writing in 2011, my philosophy of sharing my work has been "why sell the cow, when I can give away the milk for free?" This is the very first piece I have published to Amazon, and I'm holding my breath to see if it brings me the satisfaction I got from the comments on Literotica.

  Sincere thanks to the people that have helped me take this leap of faith from the safety of giving away my work to charging for it.

  Author M.S. Tarot was the first person I allowed to read a story before it went live. That first story required a multitude of changes, just to the story line. I listened and learned, and the stories since then haven't needed so much revision. He has refined my storytelling technique, and for that, I'm forever grateful. He's a close friend, and he writes a hell of a story. Please check out his work.

  Author TT Tales was the first author that made an impression on me at Literotica, long before I ever started to write. His dirty, tricky tales, particularly The Perfect Game were the ones I read over and over. When I wrote my first piece of fiction, Hurricane Season, I wondered what Tx Tall Tales would think of it. Imagine my surprise when I got a message from him in the summer of 2013.

  Since then, he has encouraged me, torn my work apart, and helped me in countless other ways. I am a much better technical writer because of his assistance. We are taking this leap together. Buy his books. You won't regret it.

  Author Freya Lange is responsible for the anthology our group of writers has assembled. She has done countless hours of work to get our book together. She's an excellent writer, and her books are extremely satisfying. Buy them.

  Author D.E. Vice, also known as AMoveableBeast, writes stories that make my feet float off the ground. Knowing him is a privilege. His assistance improves my writing even when he isn't looking. His stories will amaze you. His poetry too.

  Author SecondCircle taught me to show, not tell. His advice has prompted major rewrites of more than one story, and I think readers thank him for it. He humbly proclaims that his opinions are just the "thoughts of one reader." His thoughts are powerful, and they've had a profound impact on my writing. Please check out his Elysium series. They are excellent stories in a setting that will tickle your fancy.

  Author BuckyDuckman has done wonders for my confidence and reminded me that two sentences do not a paragraph make. His stories are dirty and fun, and his personality oozes from every line. Read them. You'll love them.

  Other authors you should check out:

  Ella Wilding

  J. Kendall Dane

  JC Winchester

  shea mara

  Blind Justice

  Rozalin

  Steve Williams

  About the Author

  Connect with Patient Lee

  Website: http://www.patientlee.com

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/patientlee

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Patientlee/796925763676229?ref=hl

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/patient_lee

  Blog: http://patientleewriting.blogspot.com/

  Email: hurricanesnowball@gmail.com

  Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Patient-Lee/e/B00XFU42WE/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_4

  Free Preview of Fighting Fire with Fire:

  The smell of smoke was the first thing I noticed when my book fell out of my hands, jolting me from my snooze. The noontime warmth had given me that "cat in a sunbeam" feeling, and I'd fallen asleep before I reached the end of the first page. I stretched and yawned, relishing the first moments of relaxation I'd enjoyed since I came home from an afternoon barn fire eighteen months ago to find my dickhead husband making home movies in my bedroom with a couple of sluts. In mid-stretch I took a deep breath, and when the smoke hit the back of my throat, I realized that I wasn't smelling a campfire.

  Some kids raced by on bikes, fast enough to create a cloud of dust from the dirt road. I made out only one word of their chatter: fire. That got me moving. I jumped out of my chair and looked down the dirt road. There it was, rising over the dust. Thick, black smoke, billowing from the window of the fifth-wheel RV four sites down from mine.

  I ran for the fire extinguisher in my pop-up camper and yelled to anyone that was in earshot to call nine-one-one. In my ten years on the Melrose Volunteer Fire Department, I'd been on plenty of fire scenes, but this was my first one in dollar-store flip-flops. I tripped on a pothole, cursed the giant trucks I'd seen tearing up and down the dirt roads, and got to the door as the campground owner arrived in his golf cart.

  The dog's barks overpowered the shrill beep of the camper's smoke alarm. I'm not a dog person, but I knew that the owner of the camper would care more about the dog than the RV itself. I was barely aware of the crowd that was gathering too close to the burning structure. I reached for the handle just as the campground owner reached the door with a crowbar. He shoved it into the frame and started to pry. The dog's bark was weakening as he dicked around with the metal tool. I gave him a five-count in my head before shoving him out of the way with my hip. I pulled the unlocked handle, the door popped open, and I found myself face to face with a fucking German shepherd. "Please be friendly. Please be friendly. Please be friendly," I said, afraid I'd pee my pants. I shoved my fear of dogs, especially large, vicious ones, aside, and the dog leapt at me, knocking me backwards onto my ass. He stood over me, licking my face, expressing his wet, sloppy gratitude for saving him.

  The crowd that had assembled screamed when the outside air hit the fire, sending flames shooting into the trees high over the RV. I pushed the dog off me and looked around to see if anyone knew if there were people inside. The owner of the campground
helped me off the ground, and I asked him if he knew if anybody was home. He assured me that the owner's truck wasn't there, so the RV was empty.

  By the time I was back on my feet, the fire had spread through the entire camper, and my fire extinguisher looked ridiculously inadequate next to the inferno. I heard the sirens approaching, and with no other equipment at my disposal, I turned my attention to crowd control.

  "Back up, folks. It isn't safe for you to stand here, people!" No one moved. "Kids! Go back to your campers!" Nothing. Nobody even took a step. Finally, the campground owner, Jack Trombley, stepped up and started pushing people back.

  Sure. You'll listen to a fucking man. My sunglasses hid my eye roll.

  "C'mon! Move back. The propane tanks are gonna blow!" Trombley shouted. It wasn't true, of course. The tanks have a valve that releases the pressure if it gets too hot, but I wasn't about to contradict a statement that might get these idiots moving to safety. The dog joined in the cause, barking and moving toward the crowd, running up and down in front of the line of people. Even the stubborn ones listened to the German shepherd, and as the fire engines screamed into the campground, they finally moved the hell out of the way.