What a day! During the night, storms passed through the area, and the power failed. This morning the alarm didn't go off because after you had stayed up late, reset the clocks, and gone to bed the power had failed again. You had a busy morning of appointments scheduled, but you were late starting and had to reschedule the first one and now after arriving at the second you are told that that one had to be rescheduled also, due to an emergency. Now it is after 11AM and you are struggling with traffic to get to the store to do the grocery shopping you need to get done before tonight. It has started raining and as you take the back way to get to the store, the way through the countryside that will avoid traffic the rain starts again. You are frazzled and tired and upset and totally disgusted. One last thing, that dream or something like it had come back last night. You remembered the feelings yet today you seemed on edge and pressured to get someplace, sometime; but you don't have a clue where or when. Just like the last time you can't remember the details just the feelings and you woke very excited, then everything from there has put you on edge. The storm intensifies and the road seems to swim in front of you. The car is sluggish and begins to pull to the right, as the tires leave the road you feel the rumble before you hear it, a flat tire, in the rain, on the back road with no other cars around. Great. Waiting for the rain to slow, the lightening cracks the sky, listening to the thunder, you tremble a bit, not from fear but from the anticipation that something is about to happen. The air is electric. The power of the storm is impressive. With a blinding flash of light and peal of thunder the rain lets up. Climbing from the car you pop the trunk and walk to the back of the car, no jack, just fabulous. Reaching for your cell phone you realize you left it in the car. Turning to get back in the car a gust of wind catches the door and slams it shut, you know it's locked even before you yank futilely on the handle. Thunder rumbles its throaty laugh as the rain starts up again. Your going to get soaked, just perfect. There is a house up the long drive next to where your car sits, there are lights on up there, and you ignore the images of horror movies that flash through your brain starting toward them. Each step brings a heightened sense of energy, you think fleetingly that this may be what people feel just before getting struck by lightening. Goose bumps rise on your skin and not only because of the warm summer rain. You are quite aware that your clothes are soaked through and the goose bumps are not the only bumps showing through. You cross your arms over your chest and trudge the final few yards to the shelter of the front porch roof. As you climb the steps the storm takes a breath and holds it, the rain stops again, time slows so that you feel as though it takes minutes to cross the last few feet to the door. "Please let there be someone home who will call for the service to change the tire" you say in a whisper. "Please don't let it be some crazed killer or worse." The oldies station plays on the radio. As you reach to press the doorbell the comic image jumps to mind of Jason, his white William Shatner mask laying on the end table within reach, sitting happily sharpening his machete, chair dancing to the oldies. You press the doorbell. Looking around you notice the porch is clean. Well tended flower gardens edge the porch and around the sides of the house. Pruned fruit trees with pears and apples hanging from them speak of fall promises of fresh pies and canned delights. Rather than Jason now you picture an old woman knitting an Afghan for her great grand daughter and listening to the radio. The sound is turned lower and you ring the door bell again in-case granny is hard of hearing. The strange energy of the day raises the goose bumps again and you begin stammering out your tale of the flat tire and your terrible day as the door opens. You look up and you know immediately that you flush the deepest red a face can manage, your gasp causes the words to cut off and you are struck dumb on the spot, it is him!! The man from the dream is standing there with a surprised smile and welcoming you into his home. He smiles deeply, a look of recognition, knowing and excited; but it was a dream, he doesn't know you, he may have seen you around; but he can't know of the dream. He takes your hand and welcomes you into a room filled with soft music and the smells of fresh baked bread. "Come in and dry off," he says in a deep friendly voice. "I almost didn't recognize you." Your heart skips a beat he guides you through the house to the tidy bath and hands you a towel and a robe. "You'd better get out of those wet clothes," he says, "and I'll put them in the dryer." Smiling and in shock you close the door and take off your wet clothes, drying off and wrapping your hair in a towel, the big soft robe nearly covers you to the floor. He takes your clothes from you as you step out of the bathroom and as your hands brush innocently together a shiver runs threw your whole body. He sees your shiver and after throwing your clothes in the dryer and starting it he takes you by the hand and leads you back to the bathroom. "You need a hot shower, your chilled to the bone" he states simply. "Go on, or do you need some help." Your hands move without your volition, clasping his hands and pulling him in with you. Your arms around his neck and your body pressed to his, your mouth seeks the heated passion of his kisses. The sham of your remembered dream lost now, the night had been a dream but the sun, the woods and this man were real. You hungrily seek his mouth passion rising, your whole body, no, your whole being craves his kiss, his touch, the pressure of his body against yours drives you higher still. He pulls back and you think he is repelled, you've gone too far, you passion and wanton lust for him has made him pull away. Again, you begin to stammer an explanation, yet, how can you explain. As your panic rises he presses his fingers to your lips, softly, gently, and caress not in the least rejecting. He touches your lips, your face, your neck and shoulders. He pulls the towel from your hair and drops it on the floor. Stroking your trembling body through the robe is both exciting and frustrating. You crave the touch of his hands on your skin. The tingling sensations flood over you. Each touch inflames your desire. Sliding his hands slowly down, taking an excruciating eternity he clasps the tie of the robe and pulls it loose. Slowly he reveals the aching skin beneath the covering robe. Your breasts seem to reach for him, your body craves his touch. You reach down fumbling with his belt as the robe drops to the floor around your feet. Pulling on the stubborn belt you try to remove the offending thing, trying to get to your passionate desire. He grabs your wrists, pulling your arms up and back, pinning you to the cold tile wall, pressing his body to yours. Again you seek the delight of his kisses, again he pulls back, just out of reach. This tease has set you aflame. The sensations of the cold tile against your skin, skin that now burns in a passionate flame consuming you. The heat coming from somewhere beyond the depths of you being. Holding you this way he slowly moves forward, his lips brushing a ghostly touch against yours. A butterfly touch that begins a pounding in your ears. Your breath is already coming in short gasps of pleasure. Pressing your hands against the wall, he lets you know he wants you to hold them there. He moves back and the release of his bodies pressure against yours is nearly unbearable, yet you stand as he wants you to. Now his eyes move down your luscious curves. You can feel his gaze like you can feel his hands on your wrists. Lightly he traces his fingers over your arms, from your captured wrists slowly over the soft flesh, the inside of your arm the inside of your elbow, to your shoulders. You have known that just this type of caress would bring intense pleasure but until now he is the only man who has known it too. Again, he traces the lines of your face, taking time to know each inch, looking deeply in your eyes you can feel the crimson flush of your passion moving out over your whole naked body for him to see. Now his hands are bushing over your body, bring involuntary gasps. He circles his touch, not quite stroking your nipples, making them ache for his touch. Sliding down your skin to your thighs he teases so close to the hottest part of you that you press against his touch to try to let him know what your body needs. He does not touch you there. He takes yours wrists again and turns you to the wall pressing you against the cold tiles again, the feeling is exquisite torture. He is tracing the contours of your back from your fingers to your thighs, and each cell of your body now cries out for the release you desperately need. He kisses your neck pressing you against the wall tightly with his body, the cold buckle on the belt making you jump and tremble all over again. He moves to a place at the base of your neck right in the middle that as his lips and tongue slide over your whole being leaps into a new level of pleasure. Now he takes you by the hand and pulling you along brings you to his bed. He has you lay on your back, he takes each hand and holds it to the rungs of the head board and tells you to hold on and not to let go. He strokes your body with his fingertips, finding each spot that makes you move in pleasure. Moving to the foot of the bed he lifts your left foot kissing and rubbing, massaging and moving farther and farther up your leg. He lightly kisses along the inside of your thigh, his lips and tongue driving you mad, as he stops you jump and helplessly your hand comes down to his head trying to guide him to the place that needs him most. He stops. Moving off the bed he comes around and takes your hand and places it on the rungs of the headboard again. You moan in pleasure and frustration. He moves back and repeats the erotic massage on the right leg, stopping again just short of what will release the tension that is building inside you. He moves to your arms repeating the exquisite torture. Then your body, you can see that he is now having as much trouble holding back as you are. He pulls off his clothes, you watch in growing anticipation. The pressure building in you threatens to erupt like a volcano. Laying next to you pressing his body against yours heightens your desire and suddenly there is no thought, nothing but the two of you locked together in total ecstasy. Each touch of his fingers, lips and tongue creates flashes of pulsing pleasure through your body. Outside the storm echos the passion acted out in this place. Lightening flashes and rolls of thunder are reproduced in the orgasmic waves crashing over your entire being. The winds rush is picked up in the blowing away of all barrios to the pleasure you experience. Nothing is left out, no inhibition left in place. Mind, body and spirit you are slept away on the wind of ecstasy.Your bodies moving and peaking together as no part of the body is left unsatisfied. You drift off in a blissful slumber you have never felt before, completely and utterly sated. Some time later you wake and he is gone. When you look out front your car, with the flat repaired sits waiting. The house is quiet. It's almost 5 and you have not gotten groceries or started dinner, your husband and daughter will be home soon. You move through the house but it is empty. Your clothes folded neatly and still warm from the dryer lay on the chair next to the bed. A note lays on them. "I'm sorry I could not be here when you woke but I have to catch a flight. I didn't have the heart to wake you. I'll get in touch with you when I get back. Hunter." It strikes you that until this very minute, you did not know his name, and maybe still don't. Hurrying home you can not believe that no one notices your light step and bounce in your walk. You know they must be able to tell, yet not a word is said, and you retire to bed later still glowing from the total bliss.