A Summer shower can be a delightful experience. The warmth of the day and the feel of soft rain against the skin is often followed by the bright sun chasing the clouds. Sometimes rainbows appear as the sun scatters leftover rain drops. A sensuous experience. I love getting caught in a gentle rain. Perhaps because it led to one of my favorite erotic experiences.
I was 20 years old, a junior in college. I had just begun dating Melissa, a freshman beauty. Brown hair down below her shoulders, a trim athletic figure, lovely breasts that stretched her t-shirt, and a beautiful smile. Her face shone when she was happy, the smile filling her face and her eyes lighting up when she laughed. I was much smitten, but she said she wanted to keep things slow and we had never done more than good night kisses. One Sunday, we drove to her family's cabin about 20 miles outside of town, a retreat. We had it to ourselves that July day. Our intent was to hike in the woods, eat a picnic lunch, and return to town in the early evening.
We set off toward a clearing in the woods where we could spread our blanket. We laid out the food and were enjoying the meal and a little wine we'd purloined from the cabin. While we ate, the sky slowly filled with clouds and it became apparent that the weather was turning. It began to rain, gently at first, just a sprinkle. But it intensified and the warm rain grew heavier. We scurried to collect our belongings. We hadn't brought umbrellas, and were too far from the cabin to avoid getting wet. But we were young and happy, and the rain dripping down off our heads and down our clothes was just part of the experience. When we found the safety of the cabin, we were soaked but laughing over our predicament.
Melissa was dressed in a thin t-shirt and shorts. I hadn't noticed as we scurried through the woods, but once in the cabin I realized how the rain had accentuated her figure. Think of a wet t-shirt contest, and that was how Melissa looked. Her shape of her breasts and her bra were conspicuous through the fabric. The wet shorts clung to the curves of her thighs and buttocks. I was the same, with my t-shirt clinging to the muscles of my chest. My wet shorts emphasized the bulge of the groin.
The shower hadn't lasted long, but long enough to get us soaked. Soon the sun was restored to the sky.
"We're going to have to dry these clothes," said Melissa.
"How do we do that?" I asked. The cabin did not have a washer or dryer.
"We live a rustic life here," said Melissa. "There's a clothes line out back. We'll dry them the old fashioned way, with the sun. There are some towels in the back room. We can wear them til the clothes dry."
