I love thunderstorms at night; we get a lot of them in Texas. I enjoy sitting on the porch after dark, with the rain pouring down as I watch. I shiver as the rain sprays its watery breath upon me. I love the thunderclaps that make me jump and laugh, the jagged lightning streaking down to the ground. It's exciting to have this storm swirling around me, it so powerful and makes me feel so out of control. It makes me want to run with someone into the rain. I want to be chased around the trees and through the grass that sticks to my bare feet. I want to slip and slide through the mud; cold, soft and slick between my toes and splattered onto my ankles.
I often imagine you're the one there with me. Playing 'till we're breathless with laughter, chilled in our drenched clothes. I want to see you with your hair dripping and tousled, your eyes lit with mischief, your body warmed by desire. It would make me want to take shelter beneath a tree so I can press you against it and lick the rain from your lips, to bite into their softness until they are angry red and swollen. I want to feel the leaves dripping on me, sending chills down my spine from cold drops. The thunder booming all around, egging me on, daring me to go further. It makes my heart race in anticipation, hammering as hard and fast as the rain pelting down.
I want to peel the shirt from your body and throw it carelessly on the ground. I want run my hands over your chest, to press my cheek to it, cool and wet, to taste the ridge of your collarbone and the hollow of your neck. I want to flick my tongue against your nipple, sucking each of them in my warm mouth, until they are hard and pebbled. I want kiss lower and dip my tongue into your naval, collect the rain gathered there as I caress your jean clad ass. I want to press my nose to the trail of hair leading into your jeans, to nip at your stomach and press my hand to your cock, kneading it through your jeans.
I can't help but wonder what you taste like. I know my fingers would shake, trembling in anticipation. I would be so eager to pull down your jeans and your boxers, to touch you, to taste you. I want to wrap my hand around your cock, and relish how heavy it is in my hand. I want to press my tongue to your slit; bitterness bursting on my taste buds, letting my tongue circled your head, and suckle your tip. I want to suck you in and keep you there. I wish I could stretch this moment, stop it forever, me kneeling with my knees smashed in the mud, my hand clutching your ass and wrapped around your cock. The sour tang of your cock in my mouth, filling it as you grow harder. I wouldn't stop though; the desire to suck would be to strong. Even in my fantasy, I want this to much to settle for anything less than all of you.
