Big Cree Par

AUTHORS NOTE: When my ex-husband, we'll call him "Allen," read my first literotica submission, "Creatures of Habit," he asked me to write about a night that we shared early in our marriage, before things went to hell. After 16 years, I won't swear to the total accuracy, but this is what I remember…

People talk about "fuck music," the best songs to play when you want to set the mood for sex - not romance, not love, hot, steamy, let it all hang out sex - thunderstorms are my favorite fuck music. I love thunderstorms, the sight, the sound, and the tremors when the thunder is so close you feel it as much as you hear it. My ex-husband didn't care one way or the other about the weather, but if it got my motor running, that was good enough for him.

It was a hot summer night in '88, and I couldn't sleep - between the humidity and our newborn, midnight came and went while I stared at the clock. Somewhere around one, a cool breeze flowed through our window; the rain the weatherman had been promising all day had finally arrived! I woke Allen up and told him I was going for a walk in the rain and asked if he wanted to come along. He thought I was crazy, but he asked his mom to watch the baby for a while because he knew I was determined to go, and he was determined not to let me go alone. The small Illinois town we lived in was perfectly safe, but Allen was slightly overprotective and way too possessive.

When we started walking, the summer rain shower was gentle and still warm, but cooling down slowly, so we were enjoying the feel of the water and the mild wind as we let our feet wander. I don't know how long it took us to get across town to Big Creek Park, but by the time we got there, the rain was driving and cool, while the wind was harsh, but still warm, the result was the biggest thunderstorm we'd seen in months. As the lightning played across the sky and the thunder rolled through our bodies as well as the air, my skin began to tingle, and I felt a heat rising that was unrelated to the summer air.

Allen always liked to push the limits of my decency; I was a virgin and very naive when we met, so everything we tried was new and sometimes unnerving to me. He had tried to talk me into the public places thing before, but I was resistant, so when he saw the effect the storm was having on me, he knew his opportunity had come. We walked to a picnic table and as I leaned against it, he started kissing me and pressing against me with his almost constant hard-on. Allen's overactive libido was a large part of our eventual separation, but in the early years it was what kept me coming back for more. He always made me feel wanted, desperately, passionately, and constantly wanted - until I realized that he wanted a lot of women desperately, passionately, and constantly.

As we kissed, his hands roamed over my body and I responded in kind, so wrapped up in the moment, I didn't realize he was unbuttoning my blouse until he started to peel it off my dripping arms. "Allen, what are you doing? Somebody might see us," I asked half-heartedly, not even bothering to push him away. "If anybody's crazy enough to be out here tonight, they won't be able to see anything. Besides, who cares if they do?" he replied, as he kissed a trail from my ear, down my neck, to my breasts he had just liberated from my bra, I realized I didn't care. All I could think about was the sound of the elements, crashing around us, and the feel of his hands and mouth - warm in contrast to the cold rain pouring over me. Looking back, I'm still not sure which was causing my skin to break out in goose bumps.

He pulled away to remove his own shirt, and I kicked off my sandals, reveling in the feel of the wet grass under my feet and between my toes. I felt like I was on fire, but the rain only fed the flames as Allen shoved me back on the table and yanked my slacks and underwear off. He'd never been that rough before, but my shock at his Jeckle and Hyde transformation was replaced with excitement as he freed his dick from his jeans and unceremoniously slammed it into my waiting pussy. He climaxed quickly, but I knew from experience we were just getting started.

Allen dropped to his knees in the grass and buried his face between my thighs as my legs hung over the end of the table. Never one for wasting time on a slow build up, he went straight for my clit as he slid two fingers inside me. The electricity in the air seemed to flow through me and the nerves in my body were stretched as tight as the strings on a fiddle, so the results were almost immediate. I began to tremble and arch my back as Allen replaced his tongue with his thumb and stood up again, stroking his cock with his other hand. As a blinding orgasm crashed over me, I begged, "fuck me, Allen! Please, I need to feel you inside me!"

Well, I don't think he ever turned down that request - from any woman - in his life, so he pulled his fingers out and quickly thrust his cock back into me. He always loved the feel of my pussy tightening around his shaft, and as I came back down from the heights of my ecstasy, he was rapidly building up to his own. If he said anything, it was lost in the fury of the storm and my own blood pounding in my ears, but I felt the liquid explosion deep inside me when he came again. When Allen withdrew, he helped me to my feet and kissed me, softly at first, then more demanding as we went. I could taste the mixture of our sex on his lips as he turned us around and leaned on the table, holding me tight against his swiftly returning hard-on - like I said, the man was insatiable!

Mr. Hyde returned as Allen pushed his fingers roughly through the soaking wet tangle of my hair and shoved me to my knees in front of his bobbing cock. I smiled and licked my lips because I love to give head - Allen always said I had a natural oral talent, and I've been told I have a very fuckable mouth. Maybe I'm so good because I enjoy it, or maybe I enjoy it because I'm so good at it, but either way, I knew what he wanted and I was more than happy to oblige.

First I slid my tongue around the head, tasting the salty-sweet blend of our juices and the crisp rain as it fell on my lips. I worked my way down the underside of his shaft, using just my tongue to tease him all the way to his balls, which I hungrily sucked into my mouth one at a time. Then I licked all the way back up in one swift stroke and quickly plunged the entire length of his cock into the back of my throat. As I continued sliding my lips up and down his pole, I zigzagged my tongue across the sensitive underside, sometimes pausing to circle the head. I varied my speed, hurrying and slowing to keep him on the edge, but not allowing him to go over. Finally, he couldn't wait anymore, and he grabbed my head with both hands and pulled me down on him, ramming his dick so deep into my throat, I couldn't breathe until he pulled back to thrust again. I knew I was no longer in control of the situation, so I just allowed him to use my mouth to pleasure himself. I settled into a pattern of breathing between thrusts, keeping my lips tight, my tongue moving, and my teeth back - wouldn't do to nick him with an incisor, now would it? He was nearing climax, his breathing was heavy, his pulse was frantic, and he had a death grip on my hair as he pulled me all the way down until my nose was smashed against him. I felt the sperm shooting up the length of the vas and I knew I had no choice but to swallow, which I did with no hesitation. I savored every drop, licking him clean to make sure nothing was missed.

As our breathing returned to normal we realized that the storm was passing as suddenly as it had appeared, so we quickly dressed and started home. As we left our table, a car pulled into the park, a police cruiser by the shape, but if he saw us, he didn't bother to say anything, so we just kept walking.

It's been sixteen years since that night, and although things didn't work out with us, Allen and I are still friends, Big Creek is still one of my favorite memories, and I still love thunderstorms.