This gorgeous piece of thunderstorm erotica is written and read by Spencer Pritchard.
The downpour hit hard and fast. So hard, in fact, that just the sound of the heavens opening and the deluge smashing against the concrete slabs outside made us both jump! The day started off with a low, cold, harsh sun, the kind that forces you to squint as a bitter wind pinches at your face. The kind of weather that stops customers from heading to your pub, no matter if the heating was on full and the beer was good…
I moved from my usual spot in the hatch to get a closer look at the rain bouncing up off the pavement, but also to break some of the palpable tension between us. We’d worked together for some time now, and had become firm friends with a hint of mutual attraction that reared its flirtatious head in shared conversations, furtive glances across the room, and the occasional, accidental, unavoidable crossing of bodies behind the tight bar which seemed far more charged than when it happened with any other team member.
Fascinated by the sudden torrent it took me a moment or two to notice you by my side, also wide-eyed and wondering just where the fuck this monsoon had come from. I noticed your perfume first. A delicate, sweet and fruity smell that was more refreshing than attention-grabbing, and another note beneath the delectation that was deeper, woodier, much more primal, urgent even.
I took a chance to glance at you, to take a snapshot of your face in this moment and commit it to memory. The grey-blue of those wide eyes. The adorable nose made edgy with a small and neat septum piercing. The summer freckles that were beginning to fade. The full, dusky pink lips that could fill hearts with a smile and then break them all with a pout…
My reverie was broken by a rapturous break of thunder so deep the old Victorian walls shook a little. You caught me looking and broke into a toothy grin.
“I bloody love a thunderstorm!” I said, before an awkward silence set in. “How awesome is that rain?!”
“It’s amazing,” you replied, still smiling, “can you imagine how soaked we’d be if we were out in it?!” A semi-nervous giggle escaped from those perfect lips and I couldn’t help but picture us outside the window I was looking through. I watched us embrace. I looked on as our lips met and our bodies locked together. I saw every raindrop cascade down our faces as we melted into one another and finally gave in to the unspoken lust that had hung in the air for years…
More thunder shook me from my daydream.
“How hot would it be to kiss someone in amongst all that…?”
Your question hung in the air, not really asked to or of anyone, but somewhere between being rhetorical and a statement. I didn’t reply, partly because it went without saying but mostly because my mouth was cotton-dry from you seemingly reading my mind in that moment. Tension now filled the empty room, yet we were still the only two bodies there, mere inches between us, still fixated on the rain lashing down outside.
All I wanted to do was turn and kiss you. Take you into arms and show you how I felt, how long I had wanted you and how I knew that you felt the same. I fought the urge to lift you up and carry you to the bar, your legs wrapped around my waist, pressed against each other, feeling the heat and feeding off one another’s passion. I could think of nothing else but breathing in the heady mix of that light perfume and the deeper, more sensual scent of your own, letting it intoxicate me and cloud my judgment, an appetiser arousing my senses and exciting my palate.
I couldn’t help but think of us hurriedly tearing at your jeans and knickers together, a frenzied stripping of clothes as you perched on the bar top, the perfect height for me to stroke your thighs with my beard, to inhale every delicious aroma from you, to devour your perfectly formed pussy with your legs around my neck. I imagined the squeals and moans and lip-bites as I circled your taut clitoris with the tip of my tongue, only stopping to kiss and suck at your blushed lips and spread your sweet vanilla nectar over those glorious folds of anointed flesh as my strong hands gripped soft hips.
I wanted to suck that stiff clit between my lips and write poetry upon it with my tongue. I wanted to push two fingers inside of your teeming cunt and slowly work them in tandem with my mouth, curling them to that sacred spot and beckoning forth the fire that lies deep within your soul. I wanted to taste and feel the changes in you as the tingle in your clitoris grew and spread out to your fingers and toes, buzzed in your stomach and behind your eyes, urged you to focus in on that feeling and give in to waves of deep pleasure that began to wash over you.
I wanted to watch you come. To gasp and moan and hold your breath as your resistance caved. To squirm and writhe and waver on whether to pull away or to push for more. To clench your cunt around my fingers and cry out as the pressure finally releases and slowly ebbs through every inch of you until all that’s left of it is the deep beat of your heart and the shallow breaths you’re taking. I wanted to slide you closer to me so I could kiss you again, your flavour still fresh on my lips…
Thunder cracked and rumbled once more and interrupted the fantasy. You had left my side and were pottering about behind the bar, kettle on and two cups out, but still no customers. How long had I been daydreaming for, and how obvious was it? I had a quick glance down at the betraying bulge in my jeans and cursed the thunder for forcing me back to reality. I turned back to the bar and settled back in my spot in the hatch as you put a mug of tea down in front of me with a smile. I take a swift sip and glance up at the window. The rain has stopped and the low sun has broken through the cloud.
“That’s a shame,” I hear you say, “I was enjoying that.”
“Yeah,” comes my reply, “so was I…”
If you enjoyed this stunning thunderstorm erotica, check out more of Spencer’s fantastic work over at Lush Stories, and hear more sexy stories read aloud at the free audio porn hub.