Note: This story is purely adult entertainment; it's also my National Nude Day contest entry. It has explicit descriptions of masturbation and lesbian sex. Please don't read it if you aren't old enough to legally. The story is fiction; any resemblance of this character to anyone is coincidental.
OOoOO
My alarm clock beeped loudly. I slapped the switch, sat up, and turned on the light.
Except I didn't, because the light didn't come on. I listened for my fan, the compressor of my fridge, anything that needed electricity. Steady rainfall was the only sound to be heard. For the third time this year, I had no power.
I was displeased. I had 45 minutes to get ready for work and I was going to have to do without electricity. What really irritated me about this blackout was that this storm only had heavy rain. There were no high winds and no lightning. The utility company just didn't feel like using the money we paid them to update the failing infrastructure. My town had about 4500 residents. I guessed we would have to complain louder if we wanted reliable service.
I had candles and flashlights. What I didn't have was a working stove, microwave, or well pump. (Our town doesn't provide water; dwellings and businesses have wells.) In other words, I had no food or water.
I wanted breakfast, but I could probably get that at a convenience store. However, there was no way I was going to work without a shower.
Using one of my small LED flashlights, I found the matches and lit a couple of candles. I looked in my closet and dresser and picked out clothes for the day.
I opened my top drawer and picked out my lingerie.
Okay, I could get ready for work. All I needed was for the power to come on again. Right now would be good....
How long could I wait for it? What options were there? Without electricity, I was about as paralyzed as any modern American citizen would be. My supervisor wouldn't like me being late, but there was nothing to be done.
...While I sat in my most comfortable chair and listened to the rain, my brain turned over the problem again and again. What was in the lowest drawer of my dresser? Old shirts, old shorts, old pants--all ready to be used as clothing for dirty, messy jobs. Next to the worn, stained, or threadbare clothes were my three swimsuits.
...Still I sat, listening to the rain. It was particularly loud toward the rear of the house, right outside the porch. The west half of the porch roof met the north half of the main roof there, making a valley. The south half of the roof had gutters. The north half didn't. Water that funneled to the northwest roof junction poured in a torrent along that valley every time it rained.
...It was unorthodox, but I had a shower!
As I gathered my shampoo, conditioner, and towels from the bathroom, I thought about the idea. It wouldn't be too cold; this was early summer. I wouldn't be too exposed; I sunbathed in my backyard pretty often and I would wear one of the swimsuits I wore when I was tanning. There was no reason not to try using the spout that formed in the rain. It would be like a beach shower.
I got into my smallest bikini, picked up my bundle of shower supplies, and went to the back porch.
The neighborhood looked pretty deserted. Rainwater was rushing from the roof valley and splashing forcefully on the square slab of concrete that stood under the step that led to the wooden decking of the porch. I pulled one of the little wicker tables over to the porch's screen door and piled my stuff on the table.
I opened the screen door and stepped into the rain.
The water was cool, but not cold. The power of the rainwater was amazing; it was much more forceful than my shower. The water crashed onto my hair and body like it was trying to give me a deep tissue massage.
--Exhilarating! In a word, it felt wonderful.
Not just my hair, my entire body was soaking wet in moments. I stepped out of the stream of water and lathered my light brown hair--then most of my body--with shampoo. The suds didn't seem to get as thick as usual: was that because of the rainwater? I stepped eagerly back under the flow.
Rinsing had never gone so quickly! The soapy bubbles washed away immediately. I ran my hands through my hair, enjoying the feeling of the rushing stream on my scalp and hands. I ran my fingers along my arms, then down my torso, finally along each leg. The rain felt great splashing freely against my back.
I felt completely alive. Turning toward the house, I furtively slipped my fingers under the little cups of my swimsuit--to make sure my breasts were really rinsed, I told myself. Thrills of bliss shot through my core while I massaged my large breasts and swollen, throbbing nipples.
(Too bad the utility company didn't have wires hooked up to me; I was producing surges of electrical energy!)
My right hand wandered lower of its own accord. The storm of sensations was carrying my consciousness with it. My fingers got busy under the stretchy cloth of my spandex-and-nylon swimsuit bottom. I teased my sensitive spots for a few long, delicious seconds.
Remembering what I was supposed to be doing, I got my conditioner and put it in my short, thick chestnut brown hair. I let the cool water splash all over my back for a couple of minutes. I stroked my exposed skin lightly and infrequently, not wanting to be too naughty, in case someone was watching. But the better it felt, the bolder my caresses grew.
I turned my back to the porch door and stepped back under the stream of collected rain. I rinsed the conditioner out of my shoulder-length hair.
My eyes darted to and fro across the small expanse of lawns and buildings in the neighborhood. I'm slightly myopic--and I don't wear my glasses while I shower, of course--but I was pretty confident that there was no one around. It was me and nature, me and the rushing water. I glanced around again. Not a soul could be seen.
Two simple bow knots (one behind my neck, the other in the center of my back) fastened my string bikini top. I tugged the trailing ends of the lower knot. I felt the strings slowly go slack. Leaving the other knot, I pulled the bathing suit top over my head.
