#860) Storms of All Sorts

They planned to spend the Saturday at their community pool. She didn’t check the forecast, as she usually did. They weren’t on their beach towels on the concrete very long before the sun disappeared. Storm clouds obliterated it. People scurried to leave, but Chloe wanted to stay. All alone at poolside, she untied the strings of her bikini and let it slip off. Thinking that this wasn’t enough of an invitation, she turned to her lover and whispered in his ear.

“Fuck me, Jay… Let’s make love in the rain…”

“The pool staff is still here, we have our reputations to think of,” he sagely advised, retying bows in her bikini strings. “How about something almost as good?” He took her by the hand and raced to their car just as fat rain drops started to splatter against the the concrete deck and car doors. They crawled into the backseat.

Chloe could feel the barometer drop as Jay watched her bikini drop. They could smell the sweet wetness in the heavily humid air, promising a huge storm. They could smell her sweet wetness fill the air inside the already steamy small car.

“Out there, for just a quickie,” Jay said, “we couldn’t have followed our ritual…”

He turned Chloe away, bent her over the backseat, caressed her backside. Pitter-pat outside became a drumming, a deluge. Love pats became spanks, a drumming, a deluge. They most enjoyed spanking as foreplay and now indulged their interest thoroughly. Rain drops hammered on the car like it was in the middle of a car wash, splooging over it in waves, while his hand rained down on her, hammered her hind-end until her middle became a puddle of desire, his a rigid rod of need. She twisted around, their mouths joined, their sexes joined.

Her cunt never felt complete without his cock, it was like a cosmic closing of her circle. She said a silent prayer of thanks to God for helping her find this man who provided such completeness, such closure. She came. Simple words cannot convey the cataclysm that washed over Chloe, swept her up, tossed her around, nearly drown her like a tidal wave, a tsunami, another deluge of a different rain from heaven.

And in the crystal-clear clarity that followed this dark storm, a thought occurred to Chloe, something that had been perplexing her for days suddenly became orderly in her mind with this brain storm. Instead of saying, “God, I love how we fuck!” or “That was the single biggest climax I’ve ever had in my life!” or “Thank you for being such a considerate, consummate lover!” she exclaimed, “I’ll organize some blog posts by themes!”

4 responses to “#860) Storms of All Sorts”

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