I arched my back in my throes and Dahl's tongue slid deeper down my throat. It was an absolutely decadent feeling. I was being taken by her in nearly every orifice. Her scent was in my nostrils and her taste filled every corner of my mouth.
The pressure inside of me was continuing to build. It was easing every few moments to fire off small spurting explosions. They were intense and fleeting and I knew that they were indicators that a much larger, body-wracking explosion was headed my way.
Dahl's tongue slowed and then stilled. She eased her tongue from my mouth and sat up, looking down at me with heaving chest and parted lips. Her fingers continued their dance inside of me and she brought her thumb up to uncover my most sensitive nub. She only had to press it for a moment.
All sensation was gone for a few seconds. All of the tingles and waves of pleasure were gone. And then everything inside of seemed to contract in upon itself, and then explode outward with unprecedented speed. Between my legs, I felt the explosion sharpest, and the aftershocks rippled throughout the rest of my body. A glowing and floating sensation situated itself in my belly and my toes curled against the hay.
When it was over, I looked up at Dahl gasping and sweating.
“Thank you,” I gushed. “Thank you. Thank you, Dahl. I've never felt anything like that before in my life. My body has never ever felt that way....”
Once more, Dahl just shook her head and grinned.
“No Ma'am,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
******************************************************
After that night in the barn, interactions became awkward between Dahl and I. Dahl was withdrawn and quiet for the reminder of her days at the ranch. I found this incredibly disappointing. After that day in the storm, I was viewing Dahl in a whole new way, and more than anything, I wanted to get to know more about her. I even wondered if I might be having some serious feelings for her. I wanted to talk to her about what had happened, and find out how she was feeling.
But I didn't get the opportunity to discuss it with her. Dahl kept to herself for the rest of her stay. She stopped going out to ride, save for two times when she asked Pete to accompany her. She mostly remained in her room reading. I wondered if she might be upset about what had happened between us. I considered that she might be embarrassed or not know what to say to me.
Before I knew it, the day had come for her to leave. Dahl came down into the kitchen, clutching one of her designer suitcases in each hand. She had abandoned her ranch attire, and was one more dressed to the nines in a smart blazer and turtleneck combo.
She greeted us stiffly, with more formality than I'd ever heard her speak with.
“Well, it's been lovely. I've had a wonderful time. Thank you so much for allowing me to be a guest in your lovely home.”
I nodded and attempted a smile.
“It was wonderful having you,” I muttered. I avoided her eyes. It was strange being so formal with someone that I had been intimate with.
“Yes!” Pete agreed, with far more enthusiasm than I'd been able to muster. “It's been fun, Dahl. We both hope that we'll get to see you again, sometime.”
There was a honking from outside then.
Dahl nodded and raised her eyebrows.
“That's my taxi,” she said.
“Alright,” I replied. “Safe travels.”
“Right,” Dahl said. “Well, I'd love to come back...you know..if you guys ever decide to do anything like this again..renting out a room, I mean.”
I smiled, but didn't say anything. What could I say? You saved my horses and gave me a stronger climax than I'd ever felt in my life? I sure hope this isn't the last time I ever lay eyes on you? It's true that I wanted to say these things to her. But I couldn't. I just couldn't do it.
Dahl shook each of our hands, and then she left.
The moment she was gone, Pete turned to me with zeal in his eyes.
“Really?!” Pete exclaimed. “What was that even?”
“What?”
“Oh, stop it, Anna. It's obvious that you really like this girl. Why are you letting her leave, without telling her? You need to at least invite her back. Do something to show her that you like her. I mean, it's pretty obvious that she likes you.”
I threw my hands up into the air.
“What am I even supposed to say?” I demanded.
Pete sighed.
“What?” I asked.
“Just, don't be such a girl!” Pete snapped. “You like her. So go get her!”
I stared at him for only a moment, considering this. Damn it! He was right! This was a woman who was calm when the situation became serious. She was someone who could be counted on. She was someone who had helped me rescue horses and deliver a foal in the worst storm that our ranch had seen in years! She was strong and beautiful and her confidence and overwhelming positivity was charming in its way.
Pete was right. I had to let her know that I wanted to see her again.
I bolted from the house, running as fast as I could. I was moving with such speed that my knees nearly came to my chest. I burst into the stable and rushed over to Sally. She was already bridled. She had no saddle, but this was an extreme circumstance. Only a bridle, would have to do.
I mounted the horse and dug my thighs into her, rushing from the stable. I urged Sally into a gallop once we reached the main road. I cooed into Sally's ear, pleading with her to go faster, and praying aloud that we would make it.
Dahl's cab driver was a local. He was sure to drive quickly along this slow country road. There was never very much traffic and so a lot of people who knew the area well, felt comfortable driving at break-neck speeds.
I rode along, urging Sally into an all-out sprint. Finally, I saw a speck of a car in the distance and brought Sally into one last great burst of speed. There was a moment, when I feared we wouldn't make it. The car's speed was gaining and Sally's energy appeared to be waning.
But then Sally surprised me with a second wind that propelled her body forward. Soon we had reached the back window of the cab.
“Dahl!” I cried out, straining to see into the cab's rear window. “Dahl! It's Anna! Stop!”
Then I saw Dahl's face against the glass and her eyes popped when she saw me. She darted a hand out, tapping the cab driver urgently, and I watched her lips move frantically. The cab slowed to a halt.
I brought Sally to a slow as well, and the horse panted beneath me, her chest heaving with the effort of her sprint. Dahl opened the cab door and stepped out onto the dusty, clay road. She ran a hand through her curls, staring up at me in confusion.
“Anna?” she said. “What's going on? Did I forget something?”
“No, I...um..”
I bit my lip looking down at her. I was suddenly nervous, mortified even. I had been so focused on catching her, but now that I had caught up to her I realized how crazy this was. I just knew that I was going to make a fool of myself and sound like a complete idiot. But I'd already come this far. I decided to go for it anyway.
“Dahl, I just wanted to catch you-”
I coughed, getting the words stuck in my throat.
“I just wanted to catch you,” I continued. “To tell you that I'd like it if you came back again. Actually, I'd like it a lot if you came back again.”
Dahl smiled then. That same arrogant and overly confident smile
“I would like that too,” Dahl said.
And this time, I returned the smile.
Bad Tornado
~ Bonus Story ~
A Western Lesbian Romance
Emily
I want to be the best meteorologist I can be, but also know that there is a lot that I need to learn. I'm lucky to have a senior videographer with me, to be a mentor, and to show me the ropes. We're headed to a little town that just got destroyed by what is being reported as the biggest tornado ever. We'll be the first station on the scene, but I get the feeling we'll need help from the locals. I hope there is someone there who can be a guid
e of sorts. I really need this assignment to go well, and hope it does.
Monique
I've been living on my families ranch, working and keeping to myself, for years now. The small town that was just ravaged by the elements was the closest thing to civilization in my small corner of the world. Now that it's been nearly wiped off the map, I wonder what will happen. What is needed now more than ever is for the media to pick up the story and run with it. There is so much that the rest of the world has going on, but right now the people that need help the most live only a short ride in my trusty truck from me. I hope there is something I can do to help.
* * *
Chapter 1
The ride had become something like a dark horror attraction, as I drove the news van through an area that had just been hit by a massive tornado. My cameraman, Ed, Kept commenting that things looked bad, really bad, way worse than he'd thought they would be. That worried me because Ed was a veteran of the station. He'd covered all kinds of terrible events and natural disasters—he'd even gone down to Katrina to capture some of the floodings on film.
I was the newbie here, and it was hard not to be reminded of that. Even with a few years of covering the more mundane side of weather reporting, I still had a hard time being taken seriously as a meteorologist. It was such a male dominated job, and the few females that did exist within its very narrow confines were there because of how they dressed, or the way they batted their eyelashes at the camera. But not me. That just wasn't the way things were for me. I knew that I was attractive, and had no problem holding my own in a conversation, but it was hard not to think of myself in the terms that others saw my peers.
As I navigated the streets of the broken town, I thought of what it had been before the twister devastated it. One of the idyllic small towns that existed in the state of Oklahoma. It had been miles from anything worthwhile, a remnant of a railroad which had once brought great prosperity to all its stops. But now the railroad was all but dried up, and with it, the wealth which had once flowed.
The town once had a large, what appeared to be white, water tower. Whatever it had looked like exactly was hard to tell from the torn wreckage left behind in the wake of the twisting winds. "The finger of God," that's what some had called it as they'd watched it smash the town into bits. There were a few things left standing, somehow, and some of the neighborhoods had been spared, but not many. There was a diner, a gas station, some other places of business, a whole lot of rubble, and a bunch of empty parking lots. Most of the cars had been picked up and flung great distances, some of them even dozens of miles, away from the town. There was a good chance the total damage cost would take months to tally up completely, and there was no way to include the loss of life in this, but it had to be staggering. So far there were no reports of fatalities, but I didn't think that would be the case for much longer.
“Over there,” Ed said. “See that old style plantation house? Yeah, the that is torn open. That'll be a great shot. We'll line you up just right so there is no way people at home won't be being attention!”
“You've got such an eye for cinema,” I said. “I'm glad you're here to help me out, Ed.”
"Oh, don't even mention it," Ed said. "You know if I wasn't here then I'd be back at the station, hidden away in some small room, looking at hours and hours of video footage that someone else didn't edit properly the first time around. I know it's bad form to bitch, but at some point I really have to wonder if I'm helping train the younger generation, or if I'm just picking up the pieces after they fail miserably at something I could have done right the first time in half the time!"
As I step out of the news van the ground feels like a sponge underfoot. I can tell by the texture of the land that it's near its saturation point. I look over at Ed as he moves to set up the camera's tripod a little ways away from where he's pointing for me to stand. We stage in front of the house, and I know it'll be an iconic bit of footage for the station to run. It's still early morning, about eight o'clock. The storm passed through around midnight last night, so it's fresh news.
Ed motions for me to move a few paces to my left, and I do. Then he counts down with his left hand that he's going to start shooting in five, four, three, two—Ed always uses nonverbals during filming, he says that if we can manage to do it during optimal conditions then we just might be able to do it when mother nature turns ugly.
“Hello, this is Emily Plath, reporting from the small town in central Oklahoma that was hit last night by the biggest tornado ever recorded. Behind me is a house that was lucky enough to have most of it remain standing, but the rest of the town wasn't so lucky.”
Ed panned to the left, slowly sweeping the lens so it could take in the destruction wrought on the rest of the buildings. I waited a few beats, then started talking again.
"What you're seeing now is what is left of the small town of Heanser, a former railroad town that has been struggling for the last few decades. What will happen next is largely up to the government. Will there be reconstruction for the people that live here? Or will the town be abandoned because doing so would be too costly?"
Ed quickly panned back to me. I squared my shoulders up for the camera just before I was in the frame.
“Only time will tell. As for now, I'm Emily Plath, signing off.”
"That was great," Ed said. "I'm glad we shot here. That's some great raw footage. I'm going to upload it to the station right now and tell them to run it as live footage, that way if there is anything wrong with it, they can just say that it was shot live and that's why there are small flaws in some parts."
I wasn't sure what to say. In the past when Ed would say something like this I'd ask to see the film, but I could never see the flaws he'd talk about. Instead, I only saw what appeared to be extremely well-shot footage. Ed had his own ideas about how things should look, and the stationed always agreed with him. Some of the work Ed shot had gone on to be used in documentaries or shown around the world via the station's partnership with the Associated Press. If Ed saw flaws, then there were flaws, plain and simple.
As Ed scurried back to the van and got busy with the relatively quick process of footage upload, I reminded myself I needed to focus. Standing in the middle of so much destruction made it easy to want to zone out, take myself to a place that hadn't just been hammered into the ground by one of nature's most powerful and unpredictable forces.
What was the angle now?
When Ed came back from the van he had a small smile on his face.
“The station wants us to stick around for at least the day,” Ed said. “And they also want to see shots of how the tornado has affected the landscape. We need to get in touch with someone around here, I don't know who would be best, maybe a farmer?”
As Ed finished speaking the family slowly emerged from what was left of the house we'd just filmed in front of. The children all had puffy eyes from crying, and the father seemed to be in shock as well. I didn't know what to say, but I knew I had to say something. Ed drifted back into the van slowly and closed the door without slamming it. If there was one thing Ed didn't like to do, it was hearing how people didn't like him to film what had been their former lives, all torn to pieces. So instead of taking the chance, he mostly made sure to beat a hasty retreat.
“How are you folks?” I asked.
“Happy to be alive,” the father said.
I spoke with the father and mother as the little ones hid behind them. When I inquired if they knew anyone that would be able to take me to the more remote parts of the twisters trail, both of the parents answered at the same time.
“Monique,” they said.
Then the father explained that Monique was a rancher on the very outskirts of the county. She had a thing for weather and studied it in her spare time. When I was back in the van I'd already started driving before Ed had a chance to put his seat belt on. I explained on the way, excited we could get some help from a local.
Chapter 2
Monique is French
. At first she spoke to us in her native tongue, until Ed finally stepped in.
"Lady, we already know you speak English. We aren't here to give you a hard time," Ed said. "We only want someone with a knowledge of the land to give us some information."
Monique nods and signals that we should follow her inside of her ranch house. The land around the ranch has been untouched by the tornado, but it's on a crest of a long ridge that overlooks the town that still smolders, miles away. The ranch house itself is small, and when we enter, I'm not surprised that it's only one room. It's nice though, full of furs hanging from the walls, and a few pieces of art. I'm not sure where to sit until Monique speaks to direct us.
"Go ahead and sit at the table," Monique said, suddenly speaking perfect English. "I guess I should be kinder to you folks. It seems like the rest of the world has forgotten about that poor town. Hell, I've forgotten about it. I couldn't tell you its name if you paid me to. But I do know the lay of the land that surrounds it, in about one hundred miles in any direction. I don't know if that's the kind of person you are looking for, or if you're looking for someone who has been more affected by the storm. Because, as you can see, the twister didn't even come close to my little house."
Ed nodded as he accepted a cup of coffee from Monique. I signaled that I didn't want any—being caffeine sensitive, I didn't want Monique's pitch black coffee to give me a panic attack.
“We'd like to see how the tornado affected nature around here,” I said. “So, I guess, maybe a forest or something that would really show our viewers what happens to anything that is in the path of one of those things?”
Monique nodded as she sat down at her small table with a steaming cup of coffee.
“I know exactly the place,” Monique said. “We can go there now and still make it back here by dark. I think you two should spend the night. I know this might sound silly, but with so much chaos it's not good to be out there after dark by yourselves. Especially because you're from out of town.”
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