The fourth in the Rick and Diane series, "Wet" is also inspired by true events, as one day in the neighborhood where we all live the sky just seemed to open up and begin pouring, and I happened to glance out my window to see the woman I call "Diane" running with her dog to get back to her house and out of the deluge.
The full back story of these two - actual people, not actual names - is available in my previous posts, but as context for this story, you just need to know that "Rick" is gorgeous, middle-aged, single, and very fit (and yes, I had a major crush on him until I learned he had a major crush on Diane). Diane is dark-skinned, petite, beautiful, and even though she is married with two kids, she's stayed in phenomenal shape and always seems game for anything.
Through mutual friends in our neighborhood, I'd learned quite a bit about the two of them, notably Rick, with whom I struck up an anonymous email relationship. In our email exchanges, he shared quite a bit about his feelings for her, his interest in having more than a platonic relationship with her, and the fact that he'd previously had an affair with another married woman in our neighborhood served to make me believe that it wouldn't take much to convince him to make a move on her.
I'd also learned that Diane's marriage wasn't the strongest, and that she wasn't particularly happy at home. And because her husband worked a lot and was traveling for business and away from home for sometimes weeks at a time, it seemed to me to be a natural and convenient opportunity for both of them to get a little enjoyment on the side. As I sent Rick these stories, he agreed to send her increasingly sexy texts, but alas, Rick didn't live up to his commitments, and so nothing happened between the two of them.
Don't be sad for either of them, though - Rick told me he'd enjoyed the stories so much that he'd beaten off to the thought of them happening, and as for Diane, well, thanks in part to me I heard she had some fun with another single neighborhood guy who lived much closer to her anyway. Kinda sucks for Rick - I wondered if he ever found out she'd done some of the things with the other guy that he'd wanted to do with her - but because he was a baseball coach I kept reminding him, if you don't swing at the plate, you can't get a hit. And he just didn't swing.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy "Wet." Along with the other stories, I originally sent these to Rick in hopes of inspiring some action, so the "you" in the story is him.
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A gray overcast Saturday on which you were getting some inside work done, relaxing with a fire going in the fireplace, had all of a sudden become a torrential downpour and major wind storm. Hanging out in sweatpants and a t-shirt, staring out the window at the lagoon, barely able to see it through the rain, you could tell from the way it was pounding on the roof that it was coming down in buckets where just moments before it hadn't even been drizzling. Happy that you'd cleaned out your gutters the weekend before, you were equally glad that it hadn't started earlier when you were walking the dog.
All of a sudden your doorbell rang. "That's odd, who would be out in this weather?" you thought to yourself. Heading to the door, you wondered if maybe the postman had a package he didn't want to leave out in the rain. As you opened the door, ready to accept the package with thanks, you quickly learned it was definitely not the postman. It was Diane - with her dog - and she was out of breath, dripping wet, without even a raincoat on.
"I was on a walk and got caught in this rain over at the high school, I ran all the way here, mind if I take refuge and ride out the storm here?" she asked.
"By all means, come in, come in," you said, surprised that even soaking wet she's still strikingly beautiful. "You're soaked, can I get you a towel or something?"
"A towel would be good, but I'm afraid that won't do much for these sopping wet clothes," she replied.
"Well," you said, trying to be helpful (but also a little bit hopeful), "I could see if I might have something you could change into, if you like." She doesn't respond right away, so you quickly say, "My dog's in the garage, can I put yours out there as well?"
She answers quickly, "Yes, I'm sorry, thank you. Do you know if this is going to blow over quickly?" she asked, and damn if you didn't think she sounded like she was hoping it wouldn't.
"Hard to say," you replied as you put the dog into the garage and grabbed a towel from there, calling back, "I didn't realize it was even coming in this soon, but they did say that once it got here it could stick around for awhile. Do you want me to give you a lift home?"
You were hoping she'd say no, and as you reentered the room and handed her the towel, she said, "No, that's ok," adding, "None of my family is there anyway, and I love how warm your house is, mine's always so cold."
"Can I make you some tea, or coffee?" you offer.
"Tea would be nice," she says, "Any kind is fine. Um, where's the nearest bathroom?"
You direct her to the master bathroom, in part because it's the roomiest one in the house, but it will also give you an excuse to show her your bedroom just in case she has any ideas...as you walk into the bedroom, she compliments on you on it, but doesn't give anything else away, and she disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, so you head back into the kitchen to get the tea ready.
A few minutes later, as you're getting the tea ready, you hear her reappear behind you saying, "Well, that feels much better."
As you turn around, starting to say, "Good, I'm gla..." and as you do, you realize she's changed out of her clothes and put on the robe that was hanging on the back of the bathroom door, a thick comfortable white fleece robe that you "borrowed" from a Four Seasons stay a few years prior. "Umm, wow, I'm, uh, glad you found that, it looks much better on you than it does on me," you manage to stammer out, and you turn back around to check the tea, aware that the front of your sweatpants may be starting to bulge out a bit.
As you try to regain your composure, you're again aware how turned on you are by her, knowing that you have been for years. You've never shared with her that you've fantasized about her for a long time, that when she thought your relationship was "just friends," in fact you caught yourself many times thinking about her, wondering if she would be fun to be in bed with, watching that great ass as she walked away after a conversation in the neighborhood, or at the baseball field. You're just amazed that all these fantasies you've had about her are finally coming true, one by one, and you know that you won't be able to hide the bulge in the front of your pants when you turn around.
"Thank you," she says, "It's really comfortable, really warm, and I just really needed to get out of those wet clothes - would it be okay if I put them in the dryer?"
"Of course," you say," the laundry room is just right around the corner there."
She heads in, and you return to the kitchen, but you hear her call you a minute later, "Umm, hey Rick, can you help me out with this machine? I'm afraid it's a bit more technologically advanced than the one I have at home."
"Of course," you say, walking into the laundry room. You're not often in there with another person, so you didn't really realize that it was such close quarters, and as she moves to allow you to pass and get to the dryer, your bodies brush briefly against each other, and in particular the protrusion in the front of your sweatpants brushes against the robe she's wearing, and that now-familiar jolt of electricity passes through you again, which if past experience is any indication, means that something amazing is about to happen...
"It's pretty easy once you get the hang of it," you say, as you switch the dryer on and the machine starts to vibrate as it begins its work, "but I remember when I first got it, I thought it was pretty hard."
"Yes," she says, glancing down at the front of your sweatpants, "I can see that it's pretty hard."