air-conditioner thieves on the condition they would return all the stolen
property. They hastily agreed, considering that an armed mob waited outside
the building to hear their decision. Since there would be no trial, all the
air-conditioners were returned immediately to their sweating, cheering
owners and the mayor became a guaranteed shoo-in for the next election.
The chief of police, who was recuperating in the hospital from a
concussion sustained during the previous day’s riot, went on record saying
he would live just as long and die just as happy if he “never heard the
word ‘air-conditioner’ again.”
Though the thieves managed to save their lives by returning the loot,
there was still a slight feeling of resentment against them in Willyville.
Since the police had no reason to hold them anymore, they were thrown out
of the station and right into the arms of the raving crowd.
Within the hour, the entire gang had been tarred and feathered.
Julie’s husband was among them, and Julie herself took great pleasure in
assisting with the tarring and feathering, but not before getting him to
sign the divorce papers. She watched as the gang was run out of town on a
rail, Elmo Burns assisting with his shotgun and a generous supply of his
“special” shells. A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away
absently. An unpleasant chapter in her life had just closed, and she knew
better things lay ahead.
The next day, Bob Katt, fresh from a long vacation in the Yukon,
returned once more to the KNUT Newsroom. Since the studio air-conditioning
had been restored, he was appeared fully dressed, bringing the best news
Willyville had heard in a long, long time.
The high-pressure front that had been stagnating over the whole area
for the last five weeks had finally weakened its hold and a storm front was
moving in, bringing massive thunderclouds, rain, and COOLER
TEMPERATURES!!!!
A massive roar rose over the town as every man, woman, and child
cheered. Bob was later nominated for sainthood by the local church. He
politely declined, saying that one Church of “Bob” was enough…
Harold knew the moment of truth had come. There was no denying it, and
putting it off would only make things worse. He had talked to Julie, who
understood completely. Diane said, “Go for it!” Michael objected, saying
that Harold was still placing way too much emphasis on his sexual ability,
but acquiesced eventually when he saw just how determined Harold was.
There comes a time when one has to face one’s fears, either to defeat
them or succumb forever. But to avoid the test is to avoid oneself. On this
even Michael had to agree.
Harold swallowed hard, picked up the phone, and started dialing.
The moon poured in through the open window, flooding the bedroom with
an eerie half light. The air was warm, a pleasant 75 degrees. Perfect
temperature for nudity. Cindi settled back on the pillow with a satisfied
sigh of pleasure not yet faded to memory. Harold still kneeled on the bed
between her knees, his erection pounding almost painfully against his
belly. The moonlight spilled across her nude, fluid form, and he lovingly
eyed her firm, small breasts, still hard nippled in the aftermath of her
orgasm. His eyes roamed down her smooth, taut belly to the wiry mass of her
pubic hair, where he had but moments ago spent so much time carefully and
artistically bringing her to a powerful climax. Whatever else you could say
about his performance in the sack, he knew how to give head. It was one of
the skills he was especially proud of. It used to be all he was proud of.
Harold leaned forward, placing his hands on the bed on either side of
her. He kissed her fully and deeply as he gently lowered his weight onto
her. For a moment they simply lay there, as he savored the full body
contact, the feel of her naked skin against his own. Then he raised his
hips and she gently guided him into her.
For Harold, at least, no sensation in the world could ever compare to
the warm, slinky feeling of penetration. He thrust deep, and her hips moved
in response. His excitement towered to new heights, and his balls ached for
release. Take it slow, take it slow. He kissed her again and ran his hand
along her side, from thigh to shoulder, feeling, touching, loving.
He began to pump in a slow sinuous rhythem, her hips moving with his.
Her legs raised and locked around his waist as her hands moved along his
back. Her breathing became short and rapid, and Harold knew she was
building to another orgasm. With each thrust, his own pleasure mounted to a
new height until finally he poised, breathless, at the brink. Too soon, too
soon…
And then he remembered. The mantra began to slowly run through his
head, and he felt the pleasure fade as he began to distance himself from
what he was doing. His whole body seemed to shift into an altered state,
one of total control.
Beneath him, Cindi froze for a moment, perhaps in amazement that he
hadn’t come yet, and then she became fluid again, moving and twisting in
synch with his own movements. Her breathing became rougher and louder,
first becoming gasps, then cries. Harold continued to pump mechanically all
the while. Cindi wrapped her arms around him, her nails digging into his
back. Her hips bucked and humped, grinding against his pubic bone with
every thrust. Finally, her body tensed as her moans became a breathless
shriek of ultimate pleasure as her orgasm ripped through her. Gasping, she
begged Harold to stop, but he wasn’t listening, and a moment later she felt
herself building up to another orgasm. Once again her body locked and she
squeezed him hard enough to bruise ribs as the pleasure exploded in her,
twice as powerful as before. By now Cindi was beyond amazement and in
nirvana. And then she felt herself building up to a third…
Forty mind-blowing minutes later, Harold decided to release the hold
he had on his senses and ejaculated, pumping his seed into her with a
rather disappointing spasm that might technically count as an orgasm. He
pulled himself out and flopped on the bed beside her, exhausted. His back
and stomach muscles ached miserably and his dick felt like it had been
rubbed with sandpaper, especially around the base. He turned over to Cindi,
who was laying on her back with her legs still apart, eyes glazed, mumbling
incoherently. He began to wonder if he had done her permanent damage.
It was another fifteen minutes before she returned to reality. She
promptly rolled over and clamped onto Harold for dear life. “Oh, God!” she
gasped hoarsely, “That was unbelievable! How…”
Harold grinned, trying to pry himself loose so he could breathe. “Oh,
I’ve learned a few things.”
“I’ll say you have! Jesus, I’ll be sore for a week! I’ve never *ever*
had a ride like that before.”
A cool breeze suddenly blew in through the window and they both fell
silent, in respect for nature’s sudden benevolence. Then Harold got up and
began to pull on his clothes. Cindi continued talking, oblivious to
everything but herself, as usual. “You know, I really didn’t mean to be so
hard on you before, but what’s a girl to do? I mean, it’s the man’s job to
satisfy her and if he can’t do it… well…”
“Uh huh.” Harold said, zipping up his pants. He began to look about
for his shirt.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I thought maybe if I gave you a little
incentive, you might find some way to shape up. And boy, did you ever! All
those guys I saw after I left you… they couldn’t hope to match what you
did tonight.”
“Izzat so?” Harold said, finding his shirt hanging on the curtain rod.
“Lots of different guys, huh?”
“Well… you know.” she said coyly. “They really didn’t mean anything
to me anyway. They were just random flings, even the guy you saw me with at
the party. I always, well, cared for you somehow. You have this sort of
stumbling, immature charm that I always found appealing. You just needed to
do some growing up and I’m so glad I finally decided to make you do it.”
“Yep, you sure made me do some growing.” Harold said, pulling on his
shoes. “In fact, that was precisely what I wanted to show you tonight.”
“When you called me this morning and said you wanted a chance to show
me how much you improved I was, well, a little dubious. In fact, I called
Frank and Tony and kinda set up a backup date in case you… frustrated me
again.” She closed her eyes and sighed luxuriously. “But you sure didn’t.
I’ve never been so satisfied in my entire life.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Harold said. He was fully dressed now, and sat
down on the edge of the bed. “This was just something I felt I needed to
do. But now-”
“I know, I know.” she interrupted. “You want us to get back together
again. You are so predictable! Well, until tonight I really wasn’t sure,
but maybe we could work something out. It couldn’t be exclusive at first,
at least not for me, but a few more nights like that and you might just
convince me to settle down… Hey, are you all right?”
Harold seemed to be suffering from a choking fit. Finally he took his
hand from over his mouth and it became obvious that he wasn’t choking at
all, but laughing. It was a full minute before he was able to bring it
under control and talk again. “You… you really are something else, you
know that?” He had another fit of giggles and Cindi watched him, confused
and unbelieving. He continued, “You really think… after all that… that
I’d still wanna…” and off into another burst of laughter.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded, confused. “You distinctly
said this morning you wanted another chance! I thought-”
“Well, I’m sorry that was what you thought, because it wasn’t what I
said. I wanted to prove something, both to you and to myself.” Suddenly he
was sober and serious again. “And I did. That was all I really wanted to
do. You might as well make a date with Frank and Tony for tomorrow night,
because as far as I’m concerned, we have no reason to see each other ever
again.”
Cindi stared at him, aghast. “What the hell are you talking about?
You’re in love with me, you fool! Don’t you think I couldn’t tell?”
“Old news, my dear.” Harold got up and went to the door. “Tell you
what: If you ever learn to think about anyone but yourself, give me a call.
Maybe we can work something out…” and with another burst of laughter, he
was gone.
Cindi got up and ran to the window without dressing. Not caring if
anybody saw her, she leaned out and yelled, “Bullshit! You still love me
and you know it! Admit it!”
Her only reply was the sound of a car pulling away and slightly
demented giggles drifting on the wind, mixing with the distant rumble of
thunder.
At 11:04 PM, the first lightning strikes were sighted over the forest
north of town. After five weeks without rain, the woods were dry as a
tinderbox, and the forest service immediately summoned all the regular and
volunteer firefighters they could muster out there. The temperature dropped
below 75 degrees for the first time in thirty-six days.
Thirty minutes later, black, murderous storm clouds drifted over the
Willyville area, filling the sky with a spectacular lightning display.
Thunder shook the town to its foundations as virtually everybody in town
came outside to watch from their porches or doorways.
By midnight the temperature dropped to 65 degrees. Harold and Julie
watched from the front porch of the boarding house as a single drop of
water spattered in the dust at their feet.
Approximately one minute later the skies opened up with all their
fury. Quarter sized raindrops hailed down in a torrent, quickly drenching
everything in sight. The Forest Service needn’t have worried. It was as if
the sky gods were trying to make up for so many days of drought by drowning
the poor, hapless town beneath them. People whooped and hollered in the
streets, mindless of the soaking they were receiving. The hospitals would
admit 14 pnuemonia cases before the weekend. But right now, even the
(off-duty) doctors and nurses were joining in the celebration.
The people partied hard and long into the night, as temperatures
quickly plummeted. They bottomed out at 50 degrees around 2:30 AM. This
news was greeted by hoarse and ragged cheering. People were catching colds
already.
On the boarding house porch, Julie shivered, delighting in the chill.
An arm circled around her shoulders and she looked up into Harold’s eyes.
Without a word, she led him into the house, past Michael, who looked on
with bland approval. Michael himself had a beer in one hand and his other
arm was around Diane’s shoulders. Pretty soon, they would be going inside
as well, for a more private party. It was indeed a time for celebration.
The heat was finally over.