After the Rain...

My body feels a slow, soft kind of ache... The sky is grey, the air thick with both the feel and the smell of the previous rain. Both my mind and body long for him in ways never known to either one before. The combination of the longing that both mind and body feel, causes me to long for a walk. A walk far away from the confines of my life, my current state of mind, to a place where only my need for him exists.

My body still aches from a night of delicious dreams, dreams of lovers, dreams in which my body indeed felt release. Wanting to stay in that haze, I don't bother to do anything with my current attire other than to don a ball cap and jean shorts and shoes. As I step out, though it isn't the slightest bit chilly but, rather, steamy, I feel my nipples harden. They are hardening at both the freedom I feel physically from my day to day environment and the freedom I feel in allowing myself to swim in thoughts of my lover.

As I walk, I breathe deeply, close my eyes for a moment and allow the dream of my lover to wash over me. I cross a bridge and feel as if I am crossing over a barrier of some sort between the me I am at home each day and the me that exists deep inside, waiting like some great caged cat for my lover. As I walk, I pass a horse farm. I look at them longingly thinking of rides I took on such animals in my youth and rides I long yet to take in my life.

My path takes me to a lake, a lake where lovers linger, a lake that holds memories passionate, playful and painful for me. And, there it is... The garden... The one that calls to me each and every time I pass it... The sun is setting and I unlatch the gate hesitantly and step inside. I wind my way amidst plants and stones, making my way to a beautiful bench. I seat myself there and allow my soul to slip away to some far off place where I am unbridled and unabashedly wanton.

He approaches, this man jogging with his dog... He waves at me and I find myself watching him go, something in me is drawn to him, wishing he were mine. He passes on by and I resume my musings. I find myself closing my eyes as the sun goes down and taking in the sounds and smells of the garden around me. Can hear the frogs awakening for the evening at the lake nearby. I lose track of time, periodically opening my eyes to see that the lake's occupants are all packing up and leaving for the day.

The rising moon catches my eye and I smile up at it, enjoying the shadows it begins to cast in the garden. I close my eyes again and for some time just inhale and exhale slowly, languidly. I am so absorbed in my breathing and moonbathing that I don't even hear the latch on the gate... I am, however subtly aware of a scent within the garden, that is different from that of the flowers that bloom there... I smile to myself, eyes still closed, giggle at myself in fact for the vivid imagination that I have.

I feel lips on mine, jump to a start with my heart banging inside my chest. It is him, the gentleman from earlier, only now, he is damp from his shower as opposed to the sweat he had been sporting earlier from his jog. I am paralyzed, unable to speak or breathe for that matter. He smiles at me, kneels down before me and runs his hands up my thighs to the hem of my shorts. I inhale sharply, my face now ashen from this unexpected visitor in my garden. He slides his hands slowly back down to my knees, allowing his fingers to play there, causing me to shift myself on the bench.

He has yet to speak to me. He rises and sits next to me, studying me, waiting for my reaction. Maybe it is the result of my musings of my lover or maybe it is simply the titillation of such forward behavior by a stranger but, I find my own hands hungry for exploration of this man. I rest my left hand on his knee, study his profile, wait with bated breath for him to find my lips again with his own. He sits quietly, smirking and I find myself consumed with a desire to satisfy both the curiosity and hungerof that cat that I spoke of earlier, the one pacing furiously inside me.

I find myself straddling him on that bench, taking his face in my hands and kissing him fully and hungrily on those lips of his. I feel his body respond, hear him respond gutturally to my assault on his mouth. I find myself wrapping myself ever tigher around him, feeling the need for him in every part of my being. I find his neck, kiss and taste it, inhaling him from that spot, taking him in. My hands find his waistline and feverishly pull his shirt free of his shorts and up and over his head in a blinding flash. Can't wait to have my hands on his chest, the warmth of his skin, the nipples that are every bit as hard now as mine. I continue kissing his neck, his collarbone, allowing my teeth to enter into the assault and my thumbs slip slowly across his nipples. I feel his hands now at my waist, unsnapping, unzipping.

I can't get enough of his flesh with my mouth, am so hungry for him I fear I will literally devour him, much like those cats do with their prey. My fingers find his shoulders and cling to them, my mouth again on his tenderly this time and teasingly, tasting with my tongue the lips, tracing them, nipping at them. I rise up off him and finish the undoing of my shorts that he has started. He rises as well and does the same. His hands find the bottom of my shirt and much more slowly than I had removed his, removes my shirt.

We are now exposed to the moonlight, exposed to one another, exposed to the night and all its splendor. I feel his hand on my chin, pulling my face towards his for a kiss that leaves me shaken. He takes my hand, leads me through the gate, towards the lake. Leads me to a stone bench, sits me down there, takes my shoulders and presses them back so that I am now lying on the bench, so ready and wanting and wanton. He straddles the bench so that his knees touch mine, teases the waistline of my panties with his fingers, making my belly quiver with anticipation and sensation. He slips his fingers just inside them and draws them slowly from me.

I am now as naked and vulnerable and exposed as I have ever before been in my life or even in my dreams. His hands find my hips, rub them, causing me to feel renewed wetness. His hands travel deftly up my belly to my breasts, covering them with splayed fingers, holding them steadily there. I writhe on the bench for him, wanting his hands to find that ever growing wetness. He rewards me by doing just that, sliding one hand lazily down to my swollen lips. Teasing them with the tips of his fingers, watching my face as he does so.

The ache I feel for him now more intense than ever. He continues to touch and tease and take me to the edge over and over and over again. Making me want to scream out across that lake for release. He stands, leans forward and allows his wonderfully warm and wet cock head to tease my now throbbing clit. Puts his hands on either side of my head on the bench, pulling himself forward and back, ever teasing and tempting. My fingernails find his forearms and dig in entreaty for him to end the torture. Once again, I am rewarded but the reward is slow and painstaking.

His head entering those trembling lips so slowly. While steadying himself with one hand, he uses his thumb on the other to keep my clit swollen and hard and aching. And, as he does so, he enters me so slowly and deliciously and I am filled, with wonderful sensation, with satisfaction and at the same time, even more aware of my neediness. He moves inside me, dancing with me on this moonlit bench, holding me in a steady spiral until I can't hold on much longer. It is at this point that I think to ask him his name...

"Jeff" he says breathlessly.

I plead with him, "Jeff please take me with you, come with me..." And, with that introduction and invitation, I feel myself fall from that edge I have been clinging to and feel him fill me even more now, with his release, with his pleasure, with his heat. My hands raking his backside, crying out across that lake, quieting all other sounds. And, with that, raindrops begin once again to fall slowly and I am aware that the moon has long ago disappeared and as the rain begins to fall, I am cooled and soothed and washed away again in every way. Washed away again in the pleasure of my surroundings, in the pleasure of this man, in the rain of the sky and of the soul and of the spirit...