I always loved rainy days. Ever since I was a small child, being out in the rain was one of my favourite feelings. The cold rain hitting my skin would immediately bring a smile to my face. The fun of splashing in the puddles was an added bonus. Then, the sprint indoors to be bombarded with the warmth and hot chocolate shoved into my hands from my mother. A movie on the TV whilst snuggled under a blanket. It was perfect.
As I got older, the rainy days only improved. All the same activities still occurred -- my mother bringing the hot chocolate was swapped with my boyfriend -- but with one more thing: sex. Arguably the most fun rainy day activity.
This particular day, there was a thunderstorm. Every so often the window would be illuminated by a flash of lightening and the roar of thunder would cause the house to feel like it was shaking. I would flinch with each roar of thunder. I wasn't scared of storms but the claps were so loud and harsh.
I had been wrapped in a blanket since the morning. The entire day the movies had been circulating on the TV. Some channel had been playing back to back romance movies all day. They were my boyfriend's favourite genre, even if he never admit it to me.
He was beside me, underneath the blanket from the waist down, his arm slung over the back of the sofa behind me. His fingertips moving in small circles on my shoulder. I cuddled my body further into him, letting my arm rest over his torso. Over a few seconds, my arm slid down his torso and my hand was resting on his crotch. I hadn't noticed the movement until I felt his chest tense underneath me.
Once I had realised, a small smirk made its way onto my face. I continued to adjust myself, making out as if I was uncomfortable in my current position, but making sure my hand grazed over his crotch as I moved. Now, his entire body was tense and I could feel his eyes on me.
He leant his head down to my ear. "You know exactly what you're doing," he said.
"Oh, but I don't," I giggled, continuing, "Sir."
With that one word, his hand had grabbed my wrist to halt my movements. Although, I had felt the movement in his trousers before he moved me. He had been asking for me to call him 'Sir' for the longest time. I was always open to try it but had never done so up until that moment. I immediately could tell he was not joking about liking it from the reaction it elicited.
"Are you sure you want to try this now?" He asked me with love pouring out of his eyes. His grip still tight around my wrist.
I nodded. "Yes, I'm sure." I loved that he checked.
A smile took over his face before he captured my lips with his own, kissing me aggressively. His hand let my wrist go free so it could toy with the hem of the tank top I had on. He parted his lips from my own and both his hands grabbed the bottom of my top, pulling it up and over my head in a swift movement. My breasts fell out of the top, a small bounce as they situated themselves back to normal.
The normal didn't last long as he grabbed one in his hand, squeezing tightly. A breath left my mouth when his hand grazed over my sensitive nipple. His hand left my boob, falling to my panties. He pushed them halfway down my legs. I lifted my body so I could pull them off the rest of the way. In all the commotion, the blanket had fallen to the floor.
He looked over my body. "Get on your knees." He motioned to the gap in between his legs on the floor.
I nodded, moving to the floor but, before I could, his hand clasped around my throat, lightly squeezing.
"Did you say something?" He asked and I immediately knew what he wanted.
"Yes, Sir," I said.
With one tighter squeeze, his hand dropped. I moved off the sofa and knelt between his legs. I let my hands rest on my thighs. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and chewed on my lip whilst I waited for his to tell me what to do next. His eyes were travelling over my body and his right hand was in my hair, gripped tightly.
I suddenly realised I was completely naked, yet he was fully clothed. There was something so arousing about that. Something about being knelt in front of him, completely bare, waiting for him to tell me what to do was making my entire body excited. I felt my nipples get harder and my pussy warmer.
Once he was finished admiring me, he started to unbutton his trousers. "Put your hands behind your back and do not move them," he said.
I complied with his wishes and moved my hands into that position, clasping them together behind my back. He pulled his trousers down slightly, his cock popping out of its confinement. I instinctively licked my lips at the sight of his hard cock in front of my face.
"Suck."
"Yes, Sir."
The hand that was entangled in my hair pushed my head down to his cock. His other hand guided his cock into my mouth before joining its partner in my hair. I kept my hands firmly behind my back as I worked on his cock. I sucked, licked, and twirled my tongue around in various motions. His hands pushing down on my head, so I had no choice but to continue sucking. I was desperate to move my hands, to touch my aching pussy while I sucked him, but I couldn't. I had to do what he told me to.
His breaths and moans kept me going. The quiet curses I hear exit his mouth whilst I sucked his cock was euphoric in my ears. I was moaning too. As he was keeping my head down on him, pushing himself further and further into my throat, I was letting moans slip whenever I had the air too.
He hit the back of my throat suddenly, causing me to gag.
Abruptly, using my hair, he yanked my head off him. I looked up at him once more, hands behind my back, eyes watering, lips parted slightly -- and definitely plump -- and saliva running down my chin and over my tits.
His hand brushed past my cheek and his thumb ran over my wet bottom lip, a smirk pulling at his lips as he looked at me.
"Stand up," he ordered.
I did as he said. I pushed myself up from the floor, keeping my hands behind my back the entire time, and stood proudly in front of him. His hand stroked lazily over his cock as he watched me move.
He reached his other hand out towards me, resting it gently on my thigh. My pussy clenched when his hand made contact with my skin, begging for his hands to move and to touch me where I needed to be touched. My cheeks flushed at the realisation he had noticed how effected I had been from one simple touch.
Slowly, his hand moved towards where I needed it most. He travelled up my thigh, leaving goose bumps as he moved, and, eventually, rested his hand on my mound. His fingers splayed across the bottom of my stomach as his thumb stayed motionless above my clit.
I whined. "Please, Sir, please touch me."
