Stormy Encounter

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Passionate couple finds meaning in the storm.
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As my eyes follow the lightning path across the black sky and to the churning sea below, my mind drifts aimlessly. Random thoughts of you and of our precious time together cause me to smile wistfully. I think of all that we have shared, and of all that we have yet to share.

I wrap my arms around my waist, the thin satin gown and robe completely inappropriate for the brewing storm, the chilly wind swirling it around my thighs in an icy caress. Briefly considering going inside, I find myself unable to turn away from the magnificent display of the storm over the ocean. There is something exhilarating and wildly exciting about it. It is not yet raining here, but the rain can easily be seen slanting down when the lightning illuminates the sky. Even the loud rumbling thunder is not enough to induce any trepidation.

Knowing you will return shortly, I step forward to the railing of the balcony, leaning out to see the shoreline directly below. The narrow strip of sand is gone, only the tops of the rocks now visible at the seawall. As I step back, shivering slightly and uncertain whether from excitement or the chill, I feel your warm hands on my shoulders. Thinking that my thoughts must have conjured you somehow, I relax against your warmth, feeling your hands slide down my arms and cross over the tops to embrace me.

Your breath is soft and warm against the side of my neck, and I instinctively turn my face toward you. I feel your lips softly touch my cheek before nuzzling against my exposed neck. The chill in the air is much diminished by your presence, and I feel quite comfortable. Therefore, I cannot help smiling when I hear the words you whisper against my skin, a gentle rebuke for being out in the inclement weather.

I lift my arms over my head, linking my fingers together behind your neck, smiling again as your arms instinctively tighten around my waist. Continuing to watch the storm, in spite of the danger, I feel a deliciously familiar heat slowly spreading outward from your touch. Your fingers are teasing slowly along my ribcage, gradually upward. My breasts feel hot and swollen as your thumb brushes the softly rounded underside of them. My eyes close involuntarily and I am intensely aware of the tactile stimulation: a chilly wind, the cool satin fluttering against my lower body, the incredible heat of your touch, the soft pull of your lips on the sensitive flesh of my neck, and the solid wall of your body, blanketing my back with welcome heat.

I feel my heart rate quicken as your hands move higher suddenly, cupping both breasts simultaneously, your thumbs now brushing over the tight points. I press closer to you, feeling the evidence of your own arousal even as a warm dampness forms between my thighs. Sighing softly, I turn to face you, your lips softly touch mine, brushing lightly across them several times before applying any pressure at all. As the kiss deepens gradually, my body molds itself to yours. I feel your hands resting on my hips, pulling me closer still.

Our mouths mesh fully in a deep sensual kiss, sharing the air we breathe. One of your thighs presses between mine, feeling the heat easily through the fabric of our clothes. As our mouths finally separate, I kiss my way down your chin and throat, nibbling along your neck to the buttons at the collar of your shirt. My fingers easily manipulate the buttons loose, allowing my lips to continue a sensuous journey along your upper body.

My tongue lightly teases along your collarbone and down to your breastbone, where your heartbeat is easily detected under my lips. The buttons on your shirt continue to yield to my touch and my hands slide inside over your warm flesh. As I bury my face in your chest, nuzzling with my lips and tongue, I feel your hands grip my bottom. Groaning softly, I softly nibble your chest, letting my tongue tease over the sensitive nipples.

The incredible power of the storm is now unnoticed by either of us, the heat between us rendering the chill of the weather ineffective. The erotic combination of adrenaline and passion races along with our heartbeats, saturating every part of our bodies. I feel my knees weakening imperceptibly as your lips find the pulse fluttering at my throat. You guide me to one side of the sliding glass doors to the chaise lounge on the balcony, a reminder of the warmer summer days. You press me down onto the chaise, my body easily bending to your will. The hard, molded plastic of the lounge chair feels icy under me, but the heat you have kindled in me effectively blocks that sensation.

I am aware of your fingers and your lips on my body. The storm rages unnoticed while you manipulate my body, tweaking my nipples with your fingers. Your mouth feels hot on my skin and I find myself desperate for your possession. My mind races ahead, thinking of the coming act. I anticipate your mouth moving lower, across my breasts and stomach, finding the spot which only you could claim. Your hands easily move the gown aside, exposing my upper body to your eyes,. Displaying none of the urgency I feel, you slide your tongue around each nipple, sucking softly at first before allowing your teeth to graze the surfaces. The nipples swell and harden with your loving attention, and I am aware of your hands moving beneath the short gown. Your fingers are warm and demanding as you stroke my hip and slide slowly between my thighs.

The heat and moisture there leaves no doubt about my excitement. I whimper as your fingers enter me smoothly. Sucking harder at my nipples, you thrust your fingers deeply into my center. You shift your attention, pulling your fingers out and softly rubbing at my clit with the slick digits. I feel like screaming as you tease me, slowly and expertly pushing me toward the limits of my endurance. The tiny circles you trace around my clit have my hips arching and twitching involuntarily. I know you savor the unmistakable response of my body, and I surrender to you completely.

Finally, knowing how aroused I have become, you move lower, your breath barely touching my inner thighs. You place my hands as you want them, your voice husky as you instruct me to open myself to you. I feel the wind rising again; suddenly a light mist of the approaching rain covers us. Closing my eyes, I savor the contrast in sensation, the rain cold against my flushed skin. With my eyes closed, I am acutely aware of the warmth of your mouth pressed against me in the most intimate of kisses. Every teasing stroke of your tongue causes an involuntary physical reaction, the taut muscles of my inner thigh twitching, my hips rocking and arching against you.

I am vaguely aware that my breathing is erratic and my pulse is racing. Coherent thought is utterly impossible now, and I am only aware of the delicious sensory overload. Your hands cradle my bottom, lifting me toward you imperceptibly; the hard cold plastic under me replaced with tender, warm flesh. I feel your tongue firmly massaging the tight swollen bud, motions unerringly calculated to create a maelstrom of feelings, linking me to the storm unexpectedly.

Opening my eyes, I see the jagged lightning illuminate the sky as your shoulders nudge my legs further apart, your lips and tongue tasting the excitement as my body begins to tremble uncontrollably. Several heartbeats pass before the loud booming thunder drowns out all other sound. Only then am I aware that I am moaning, gasping. Your name on my lips is a plea, but the nature of it is uncertain. Am I begging for you to stop, or begging you to continue? I am unsure myself, but you pause, raising your eyes to mine, questioning.

My body feels as if it is hovering in midair, only a few tender seconds from a soul-shattering explosion. The faint sheen of perspiration on my upper lip reminds me oddly that it was cold out here only moments, hours, days ago. Groaning in indecision and uncertainty, aching for something unknown, I watch your tongue slide through the trimmed, damp curls and back down into the smooth, warm cleft below. I feel it flutter lightly against my clit just as another mist of rain and gust of wind blow over us. With a sudden insight, I realize the secret to completion, the answer plain in the urgent storm around us.

Our eyes still meeting, I subtly shake my head, hearing your disappointment in the groaning sigh. Nevertheless, after a quick teasing foray with your tongue once more, you concede, accepting if not yet understanding. Standing requires a considerable effort, my legs trembling, weak. The rest of our clothing is lost in a moment, four hands eagerly assisting it on its way. As our bodies touch, warm flesh against warm flesh, I hear another impassioned moan accompany my own. My lips meet yours, softly but deeply kissing you, feeling your tongue slide over mine, tasting myself on your lips.

Instinctively, my body presses ever closer, attempting to surround your body with my own, or to be surrounded. Your hand slides down one side of my body, over the indentation of my waist and the soft curve of my hip. Realizing your intent as you hand reaches the top of my thigh, I wrap on leg around yours, feeling your throbbing maleness pressed against the warmth and dampness of me. Feeling your hand cup my bottom, I reluctantly step back a single step, urging you to take the chaise in my stead.

I explore your warm enticing body, first with my eyes, then my hands. Memorizing the contours, the texture of your skin, seeing your responses, I realize the depth of feelings we are sharing. Your eyes reflect a hunger, more than just desire or passion, and I know mine reflect the same. There is an urgency and at the same time, a need to prolong. My open mouth touches the side of your neck, swirling my tongue over the skin, savoring the slight salty taste of your flesh. Your chest and stomach are an open invitation, which I find it impossible to resist. Splaying my hands over your chest, I stroke, sometimes rubbing, sometimes barely grazing a finger over the skin.

I hear you draw in a breath sharply as my hand slips lower, just brushing the nest of curls before moving sideways to slide down your hip and rest easily on the bunched muscle of your thigh. I trace teasing circles lightly on your inner thigh, your anticipation a very nearly tangible thing. My mouth moves lower, nibbling softly on your chest, tasting the salt of your skin and the sweet droplets of rainwater.

Reaching the evidence of your arousal, my lips hesitate, a soft exhalation causing a warm moist puff of air to caress the tip. Brushing my hair back with one hand, the other moves to caress you more intimately. Meeting your eyes, waiting anxiously, I hover. When the next flash of lightning makes the balcony as bright as daytime, my tongue slips along the underside tasting you intimately. I swirl my tongue wetly over the top of the sensitive head for several suspended seconds.

As the lightning slowly recedes, the crashing thunder surrounds us and my lips surround you. Any sounds either of us made were inaudible in the storm, but, then, maybe the storm is making the noise for us. I can feel your hands gently cradling my head as my lips envelop your arousal, my tongue massaging the shaft rhythmically, tasting, stroking, and sucking.

The urgency is ever increasing, the fury of the storm building and drawing nearer. Finally, you pull me away, finding me unresisting and agreeable. I move over you, hovering on the threshold, feeling the rain increasing, wetting my body, my hair. Once again, our eyes meet and hold, souls connecting, bodies yearning. When the lightning strikes again, I lower my body, both of us seeing, feeling, wanting, and aching. Three, four heartbeats later, the thunder comes. The storm is so close now. Your shaft is tightly sheathed in my body. I can feel the ridges and pulsing of it, even as my own body quivers and trembles.

When your hands would cup my breasts, I take them in my own, twining my fingers through yours, moving them behind my back as you embrace me, your lips devouring the tender flesh of my neck and collarbone. Leaning forward, I urge you back on the chaise, smiling when you easily lie back. My hips rock slowly at first, feeling the delicious slippery friction, feeling my fingertips tingle at the contact with yours, pressing my chest to yours, my nipples hard points against your warm rain-wet flesh. I wrap my legs around yours, my hands pressing yours down over your head, my lips meeting yours passionately. Every possible part of our bodies is linked, as it has to be tonight, the storm is closer, as are we.

Each jagged bolt of lightning is followed by the thunder, the pause between them growing ever shorter. As I move over you, rhythm as old as creation, I can feel the trembling in our bodies, the intensity and urgency overwhelming us. I feel your body tensing in anticipation, and the tiny pulsing indications of my explosion nearing. Heartbeats of time, moments suspended deliciously, stroke, kiss, so close, so desperate for completion.

The lightning reflected in your eyes, and in mine, the thunder following a heartbeat later, the adrenaline pulsed through us. Stroke, gasp, foreheads pressed together, lips meeting, air exchanging. Waiting, impatiently waiting...

The lightning, thunder, simultaneous around us, fireworks, lasting for a moment, the space of several lifetimes, drowning out the cries, moans, screams of two people, lost in a storm of passion and desire, reaching for a shining pinnacle together and sharing an exquisitely beautiful, soul shaking experience....

And the rain came pouring down...

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Lalenya LoveLalenya Lovealmost 20 years ago
By Thor's thunderbolts,....

...this is beautiful! I love the rain and good erotica, and the combination is irresistible. Keep writing!

Cheers,

Lalenya :^)

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