Storm Damage

My husband Mark left for his month-long research expedition in the Amazon two weeks ago. I stood at the kitchen window that morning, sipping coffee, feeling the usual mix of pride and loneliness. The house felt too quiet without him. Then the storm hit that night — wild winds, driving rain — and I woke to find half the roof tiles ripped off, water dripping into the attic.

I called every roofer in town, but they were all slammed. That's when he showed up.

The new neighbor from across the street knocked on my door the next afternoon. His name was Alex. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark messy hair and these intense green eyes that seemed to see right through me. He'd noticed the damage and offered to help.

"I do construction on the side," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "I can patch it up for you before the next rain. No charge. Just being neighborly."

I hesitated. Mark had always handled these things. But Alex's smile was easy, confident. "Okay... thank you. I'm Laura, by the way."

We spent the afternoon on the roof together. He worked shirtless in the late summer heat, muscles flexing under tanned skin as he hauled new tiles. Sweat glistened on his back. I handed him tools, trying not to stare. The way his jeans hung low on his hips made my stomach flutter in a way I hadn't felt in years.

"You're staring," he said suddenly, grinning down at me from the ladder.

My face burned. "I am not. Just... making sure you're not going to fall."

He laughed, low and rough. "Right. Want to hand me that hammer?"

By evening the worst of the damage was fixed. We climbed down, both dusty and tired. I invited him in for a cold beer. "Least I can do," I said.

Inside, the air felt thick. He stood close in my kitchen, taking the bottle from my hand, fingers brushing mine. A spark shot straight between my legs.

"Thanks, Laura," he murmured, eyes locked on mine. "You know, you've got this little smudge of dirt right here."

His thumb grazed my cheek. I didn't pull away. My breath caught.

"Alex... my husband is away," I whispered, voice shaky. "This isn't like me."

"I know." His voice dropped, rougher now. "But the way you've been looking at me all day... tell me you don't want this."

I swallowed hard. "I shouldn't."

He stepped closer, backing me against the counter. "Then say stop."

I didn't.

Instead I grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. Our mouths crashed together, hungry and desperate. His tongue slid against mine, tasting like beer and salt. Strong hands gripped my waist, lifting me onto the counter like I weighed nothing.

"Fuck, Laura," he growled against my lips. "You're so damn beautiful."

His fingers worked my blouse open, exposing my lace bra. He yanked the cups down, mouth latching onto one stiff nipple, sucking hard. I moaned, arching into him, fingers tangling in his hair.

"Alex... oh god..."

He pushed my skirt up, rough palm sliding up my thigh until he cupped my pussy through soaked panties. "You're dripping already. Been thinking about this cock all afternoon, haven't you?"

"Yes," I gasped, grinding against his hand. "Please..."

He shoved my panties aside and sank two thick fingers into me without warning. I cried out, walls clenching around him. He pumped them deep and fast, thumb circling my swollen clit.

"Look at this tight little pussy," he muttered, watching his fingers disappear inside me. "So wet for your neighbor. What would your husband say?"

"Don't talk about him," I panted, but the forbidden words only made me hotter. "Just fuck me."

He pulled his fingers out, making me whimper at the loss. Then he freed his cock. It was thick, veined, the head already leaking. I wrapped my hand around it, stroking the hot length.

"Condom?" I breathed.

"Drawer behind you," he said, voice strained.

I found one, rolled it on him with trembling fingers. He didn't wait. In one thrust he buried himself balls-deep in my pussy.

We both groaned. He felt huge, stretching me perfectly.

"Shit, you're tight," he hissed, gripping my hips. "So fucking good."

He started moving, hard and deep. The counter creaked beneath us. My legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into me. Every thrust hit that perfect spot inside, sending sparks through my body.

"Harder," I begged, nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck me harder, Alex."

"Yeah? Like this?" He slammed into me, grinding his pelvis against my clit. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the kitchen. My breasts bounced with every stroke.

I was close already, tension coiling tight in my belly.

"I'm gonna cum," I whimpered.

"Cum on my cock, baby. Let me feel it."

He reached between us, rubbing my clit fast. That pushed me over. I came hard, pussy spasming around his thick shaft, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crashed through me.

"Fuck, Laura... so good," he groaned.

He didn't stop. He lifted me off the counter, still impaled on his cock, and carried me to the living room. We collapsed onto the couch. I pushed him down and climbed on top, sinking back onto his length.

"Ride me," he ordered, hands squeezing my ass.

I did, rolling my hips, taking him deep. My tits bounced in his face. He sucked one nipple, then the other, while I fucked myself on his cock. The room filled with my moans and the obscene wet sounds of my pussy sliding up and down his shaft.

"God, your cock feels so good," I gasped. "Bigger than his... stretching me so full."

He thrust up to meet me, gripping my hips. "That's it. Use me. Take what you need."

My second orgasm built faster. I rode him frantically, grinding my clit against his pubic bone. "I'm cumming again... oh fuck, Alex!"

My walls fluttered around him. He growled, flipping us suddenly so I was on my back. He drove into me with short, powerful strokes, chasing his own release.

"Where do you want it?" he panted.

"Inside. Fill me up."

With a deep groan he buried himself to the hilt and came, cock pulsing inside me even through the condom. I felt every throb, milking him with my pussy until we both trembled.

We stayed like that, sweaty and breathing hard, his weight comforting on top of me.

"Stay the night," I whispered, tracing his back. "The roof might need more work tomorrow."

He chuckled against my neck, kissing the skin there softly. "Yeah. Definitely needs more attention."

For the first time in weeks, the house didn't feel empty.