Thunderstorm

More sweet than anything else . . . just letting my mind wander for a little bit.

She was giggling. I don't know if I can tell you the last time that she, honestly, giggled, but, as we walked hand in hand, she giggled. And skipped! She was giggling and skipping about the long grass, and I was in a little bit of heaven, her fingers intertwined with mine.

And then we felt the first drops.

She broke the hold on my hand, lifting her hand to the sky (because we all know that it's not really raining unless a drop lands on the palm of your hand). I mimicked the gesture, my hand brushing the back of her head as I did so.

And then I couldn't wait.

My hand reached into her hair, grabbing a fistful. She opened her mouth in a gasp, and I covered her mouth with mine. My tongue found hers and her own tongue retreated, for just a second, before investigating the corners of my own mouth.

The drops fell more steadily - cold on our sweaty skin.

Her tongue retreated into her mouth and I bit down on her lower lip. She sighed and my left hand felt down the front of her body, tracing her curves through her wet t-shirt. My right hand, firmly grasping her hair.

I release the hold of her lip and she shudders, reaching for my mouth with her own. Her body telling her that her lower lip belonged between my teeth. I felt her knees give, just the tiniest bit, when I renewed the kiss.

The hand in her hair released its grip as I traced it down her back, forcing her body against mine.

Again, I bite her lower lip, and she jumps into me, her legs wrapping around my hips and I adjust my stance, my legs wide apart. For just a moment, I test, seeing if she'll fall if I release her.

She stays steady.

My hands pull down on the front of her drenched t-shirt and I force her breasts free of her bra.

We hear thunder.

I find her nipples already hard from the cold, as I manhandle her breasts.

She throws her head back in ecstasy and I feel the precarious balance sliding away from me. I throw both of my arms around her middle and drop to my knees, the long, wet grass ticking my legs as I kiss her collarbone. She tastes of rainwater.

We fall to the ground and roll around - teenagers in a wet romp in the hay. I look at the sky and notice just how dark it is, in the middle of the afternoon, before looking at her.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," I whisper - a strike of lightning illuminating everything about me before leaving me with a temporary blindness. Like God, himself, needed a picture of her wet, exposed, a little muddy, and damn-near perfect body.

I paw at her after the sudden change in light, and I find the button of her shorts. With short work, her fly is down and I leave her nude from the waist down. I wrap her in my arms, feeling the hint of a shiver from her, as the rain picks up to a new fervor - torrential downpour being the only term I can use to describe it.

"Take me," she whispers, and I feel the heat from her breath against my cheek as my surroundings are suddenly illuminated yet again.

The resulting thunder, a mere second later, is deafening.

I release her for a second and peel my soaked shirt off of my body before clumsily removing my own shorts.

Lightning strikes as I enter her - because, just sometimes, nature has no choice by to cheer you on.

Her hips rise to meet mine, and I realize that starting off slowly was far from the approach I should take.

The two of us batter each other with our hips until my weight has her pinned to the ground. I pull out slowly before starting a relentless string of hip thrusts. I feel her legs wrap around mine, and I feel her entire body shudder as the rain starts falling even harder.

The sound of her gasp is hidden by simultaneous crack of thunder and sudden light.

The smell of ozone is still thick in the air as I release, myself.

And, just like that, with my thrusts and spasms slowing, my body pressing harder into hers, the rain begins to let up and the "dead of night" dark starts to relent.

We lay like that for minutes, catching our breaths. A distant roll of thunder is heard and my cock falls out of her.

I kiss her once more, a rainwatery kiss, before standing while holding her hands, helping her to her feet.

We spend a minute looking about, finding the dislodged clothing. My shorts are grass-stained; her shirt, stretched beyond repair.

She reaches up for a quick peck on the cheek and reaches down my shorts. "That was fun; last one to the cabin has to make dinner," as she tweaks my balls and takes off running.

I start to run, myself, thinking that tonight will be a good night for steak.