In Every #Cloud :: #WankWednesday
Cera watched it rain. It was easy, for the time being. Thunder had rolled in, drawing her outside. The clouds tumbled in after; great cumulonimbus masses that blotted out the sun. And now the first drops fell, pregnant spheres that splatted against her skin. Soon the storm would let loose. But not yet.
Summer in this city differed greatly from others she’d lived in. Or perhaps it was just the comfort of the neighborhood. Still, in the dark, steely towns of her younger years summer thunder heralded a respite from the heat. The raindrops drew residents out onto their balconies and stripped away any thought of propriety.
When it was too hot to fuck, the rain presented an opportunity not to be missed.
Not so here. Everyone enjoyed their climate controlled havens. Rarely did Cera have company on the neat rows of balconies. Even more rarely during the frequent deluges. Still she followed the patter of water and leaned out over the railing, letting summer’s wet kiss slick the back of her neck. Far below cars swooshed through gathering puddles. The metal beneath her hands pressed warmly into her stomach and she slid against it.
How long has it been?
Cera ignored the niggling voice. She didn’t want to think about how long it had been.
Eight days. Eight days, fourteen hours. . .
Her growl rumbled just under the thunder and the sky opened up. Rain drops crashed into her skin, streaming continuously, soaking her through. Lightening snaked across her vision, lighting up the dark belly of the storm. The downpour smeared everything, isolating her from the world. The caress of the rain flushed her skin.
Touch yourself for me.
Her thoughts jumped to the last night with her lover and she shivered in the hot bath of water.
No one would see, right? Who else but her would be out watching the rain?
Cera turned her back to the courtyard, leaned against the railing and let her fingers follow the flow of rain down her body. Her thin cotton shirt clung to her curves, a near transparent second skin. At the gap her wrist made in her shorts the current of precipitation followed the path of least resistance, coursing down her belly and over her heated cunt. She gasped aloud.
A curtain of water sheeted down her from above. Her soaked body offered no resistance, yielding and shifting until the stream of rain fell in a torrent across her torso and between her thighs. The warm rain still felt chill to her flushed flesh. Her fingers pressed into her own fluid, slick and hot and inviting. Thunder sounded constantly. Lightening lit up her vision until she closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensuality of the moment.
For right then, that instant, the storm unleashing above fucked her. Her fingers followed the percussive explosions that split the heavy air. It was a fuck with no rhyme or reason; it drove her to the edge of orgasm just as quickly as her lover did.
“Come for me.” The voice speared through Cera. She opened her eyes to meet her lover’s and cried out, her voice drowned in the ferocity of the storm. Her muscles quivered and gave way. She was caught half way to the balcony floor by arms she’d not expected to feel.
Their lips met in a slow, languid kiss. Cera groaned softly, melting, her body still a live wire of arousal. “Take me,” she whispered.
“I plan to.” The reply sent a shiver of need through her and she followed her lover inside, ready to ride out the release of an entirely different storm.