Lightning Doesn't Strike Twice
Keywords: Doesn't, Lightning, Strike, Twice,
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This is an official entry into the 2007 Earth Day contest. Please remember to vote at the end of the story. Thanks for reading.
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The morning light was different when it came into our windows on that side of the house now. Rusty said I was crazy. The grass all grew back, but I kept telling him, if you put down enough hydroseed and mulch, you could grow grass on asphalt if you wanted to. That's pretty much what they did.
"People could die." I heard myself mumbling when he came to me. I was only half awake.
"You're dreaming again, Erin Brockovich." Rusty kissed my temple as he slid into bed, nudging Domino out of the way. Domino lifted his big black and white Great Dane head and snorted, edging down to the bottom of the bed and curling up where Scrabble, our Benji-faced mutt, liked to keep my feet warm at night.
"Very funny." I stretched and rolled toward Rusty, snuggling my sleep-warmed body next to his freshly showered one. I never understood his taking a shower before going down into the mines to get filthy again. "People really could die."
"Everyone's gonna die, Lolly." He kissed my forehead. "Might as well die a good death. What should we die from?"
"I don't want to die."
He chuckled. "I don't think that's an option."
"Have a good day." I kissed his cheek, closing my eyes again and settling back into my pillow.
"Oh, I'm not leaving yet…" His hand slipped under the covers, seeking the silky softness of my nightgown. "I don't even have my socks on."
I cocked one eye half open at him. "You woke me up and you don't even have your socks on?"
"I'm being selfish today." He grinned. "You're the one thing that gets me through the day, you know."
"Is that so?"
His fingers edged the material up my thigh. "Unfortunately, it ends up being a one-to-one ratio… one minute with you, one hour in the pit."
"Aww." I moved back toward him, slipping my arms around his neck and massaging the muscles in his shoulders. "I know…you work so hard."
"Don't mind hard work." He gave a soft groan when my fingers dug into the tendons of his neck. "Damn, I'm never going to get my socks on at this rate. You're not helping."
I smiled. "Your feet are all the way down there."
"Funny girl."
"I try."
"It won't happen again, you know." Rusty's eyes closed as I massaged his shoulders through his t-shirt. "It's like lightning striking twice in the same place."
I shook my head, but knew he couldn't see me. "No, it's not like that at all."
"I'm more worried about dying of a heart attack."
"Then quit going to Taco Bell for lunch."
"Maybe it's because I'm going to be forty." He rolled his head around, groaning again as I dug my fingers deeper, the way I knew he liked. "It's good to be unhealthy at forty. Gives you something to do besides buy convertibles and cheat on your wife."
"You can have all the convertibles you want."
He snorted. "Yeah, Matchbox ones." There was a pause as I worked my fingers over his flesh. "What about the cheating on your wife part?"
"You can have all the convertibles you want," I repeated, squeezing his shoulders hard.
He grinned. "Oh, sure, I can have a "car" with the top down, but a woman—"
"You want a woman with her top down?" I slipped the black straps of my nightgown over my shoulders, wiggling it down to my navel.
Rusty's eyes lit up. "You're gonna make me late, woman…"
"So make it worth it." I reached for him and he came to me, burying his face between my breasts with a grin. I didn't mind a morning quickie, and I especially wanted one this morning, considering I knew we wouldn't see each other again for two more days. Our schedules were off for the rest of the week, and I knew I was ovulating. I'd just bought one of those little kits on the way home from work last week.
"Nowhere near hard enough," I murmured, feeling his cock at half-mast through his briefs. His tongue made wet circles over my nipples, first one, then the other, making them stand up pink and proud.
"Gonna have to do something about that, then." His fingers replaced his tongue as he licked his way down my belly. I knew where he was headed and spread my legs, eager for his mouth. He liked to warm me up, and licking me always made him hard as a rock.
"Damn, you're wet." His eyes were bright as he sank his tongue between my shaved lips.
I gave him a secret smile. "I'm ovulating."
His eyebrows went up. "No pressure or anything."
"Don't you wanna make a baby?" I moaned when his fingers slid inside of me, his tongue teasing my clit.
"I told you I did." He kissed circles around it and then did the same with his tongue, making me dizzy with the pleasure of the motion. I gave up a soft cry to the ceiling, closing my eyes to the funny light that came in the window on that side of the house now, rocking my hips up to meet him. I knew his cock was growing hard against the mattress and I imagined it, long and thick and throbbing, aching to slide into my wetness.
"Rusty," I panted, grabbing his dark hair in my fists. "Come on. Put it in me."
"Don't you wanna cum?" He lifted his wet face, wiping at his chin, and I smiled, tugging gently at his curls.
"I want "you" to cum," I urged as he slid up between my thighs, slipping his underwear down his hips. I pressed my mouth to his ear, sucking at his earlobe and making him groan—he loved that so much—before reaching for his cock. It was just as I knew it would be, thick and pulsing in my hand, eager for my pussy. "I want you to cum inside of me."
He groaned as I slid it between my lips. "It won't be long," he warned. Like I didn't know—it had been almost two weeks since we'd done it. Whenever we went so long, he came almost the minute he slid inside me. He always apologized, but I secretly loved how good it made him feel to be in me.
"Should I be mean?" I teased, rocking my hips up and sliding him in deep. I made my voice high and breathy. "Oh, baby, please don't cum yet, it feels so good."
"Ohhh!" He bent his head to nip at my breast. "Brat!'
"Oh, Rusty, baby, please," I moaned, sliding my hands down his back, cupping his ass as he began to fuck me. "Don't cum, please, I want to cum first…"
"Quit." He leaned in and kissed me quiet, his tongue slipping between my lips, making me shiver. I loved the way he kissed me, the thousand ways he had of kissing me. His cock plunged with the same rhythm as his tongue and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, hanging on and enjoying the ride.
He broke the kiss, moaning into my mouth, "Ohhhh fuck, baby!" God, I loved hearing him like that, pushing toward the edge.
"Come on," I urged, reaching between us to feel his cock thrusting into me, rubbing my clit with my fingers. "Do it! Fuck me hard!"
He slipped his arms under me, his weight almost entirely on me, now, crushing the breath out of me, but I didn't care. I welcomed him, my hand working faster, rubbing myself toward the same end. God, he made me want to cum so hard, his breath panting in my ear, his hips thrusting against mine, bodies slapping so hard the bed shook and made Domino whine and jump down to settle in a pile of dirty laundry on the floor.
"Rusty, I'm gonna cum," I whispered, my eyes half-closing. He searched my face for the truth and saw it, groaning at the realization. My pussy clamped down on his shaft with that first shuddering wave and I bit his shoulder to keep from crying out—it always made Scrabble howl right along with me. Rusty drove in deep and fast, grunting as he came. I felt every hot throb of his cock as we trembled together. I don't know why, but I had tears in my eyes as I felt him filling me, again and again.
"I'm gonna be late." Rusty groaned as he rolled off me and out of bed, his hand searching the floor for his socks and underwear.
I smiled, still breathless, watching him pull them on. "You keep saying that."
"What are you gonna do today?" He stood, starting to slip his coveralls on.
"I have to update the web site before I go into the diner at four." I loved my late days, getting to laze in bed with the dogs.
"What about dinner?"
"I'll have something in the crock pot waiting for you, just like I always do on my late days, Mr. Spoiled Rotten."
He buttoned himself into his coveralls, picking up his keys from the bureau and pocketing them. "Can it please not have too many vegetables in it?"
"I thought you didn't want to die of a heart attack?" I smiled, rubbing my knees together under the covers, loving the feel of his cum on my thighs. "Maybe we made a baby." I didn't want to say anything and jinx it, but I had a funny feeling. I wondered how the dogs would react when we finally had a little one…
"I don't—what the fuck is that?" Rusty turned toward the window, the one with the funny morning light. Domino's head shot up at the sound and he whined.
"Sounds like Clint shooting off his .22 at the coons again." I rolled to my back and put my knees up. That's what they said you should do at the web sites I'd been visiting in between working on the one for the Coldwater Creek Spill. All the trying-to-conceive sites (TTC, they called it—they had a whole language all their own) said it encouraged a "seminal pool" at the "opening of the cervix." Whatever might make us a baby, if it meant standing on my head, I was willing.
"Lolly." Rusty stood looking out the window, pushing the dog down. Domino wanted to see, too, but Scrabble barely lifted his head from his paws on the bed.
"What?"
"Lightning's striking twice in the same place."
I sat up, forgetting about semen and the possibility of babies. "Oh my god."
I ran to the window, hanging onto the ledge to see what Rusty was talking about. The sound hadn't been a gun. It was the trees. One after the other, they were cracking in half under the weight of the sludge.
"It's coming too fast." His voice sounded strangled, like he was already drowning in it. "It's gonna bury us."
"Oh my god."
He turned to me, pulling me into his arms. "We can't get out in time."
"Rusty!" I turned toward the window again, seeing a river of black flooding the creekbed.
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Keywords: Doesn't, Lightning, Strike, Twice,