Fun in Scotland 1 - Thunderstorm
After a long, sticky day of minimal activity we finally slob out drowsily together on the sofa. My head is in your lap and I and stretch one arm up, running a nail gently down your jawline, your neck and chest as you lift your bottle to your lips. I watch, feeling myself getting aroused at the movement of your mouth, my mind straying, as you take a mouthful and smile.
You run your hands through my hair and I murmur with pleasure, then twist so I’m propped up on one arm, my face by your bare chest, kissing you gently towards your arm, where I breathe in the smell of your heat and sweat, and growl. Your hand twines my hair round, holding it tight, my lips part for you, wanting you, as you slide your hand down past the narrow straps of my vest top and feel the lycra yield as you cup my breast…
A rumble of thunder shakes us.
Looking out of the window we see the first fold of a cloud speeding westerly over the trees. We look at each other, both of us welcoming the imminent relief, and almost simultaneously the rain reaches us, pounding off the roof. We stand to watch it bouncing off the grass, the dirt track up to this secluded chalet, and the loch just down the hill from us. You’re right behind me, and we intertwine our arms, feeling each other’s hot flesh, I look back up to you, and we grin before we’re tearing off our remaining clothes and running out the door.
I’m gasping as the rain stings my flesh and you’re ahead of me, whirling and spinning and howling at the clouds. We run down to the water, the tide is into the bay and I don’t have to wade far before it’s round my waist; you however prefer the short-cut along the jetty and I see you leaping high before bombing down and drenching me. You’re laughing at the look on my face before I splash towards you to dunk you, a hopeless task I know, but that’s not the point; and you’re grabbing me and spinning me so I lose my footing and fall under the water; emerging spluttering and screaming with fury and laughter.
You tread water just beyond my reach, knowing I don’t like to go so far as you, so I have to make do with splashing you, before I turn to head back to the shore. Only a few strokes along I feel you grab one of my ankles and twist me over. By the time I’ve surfaced and pushed the hair out of my eyes you’ve got me close; one arm round my waist and the other teasing my ring until I squeal. I run my fingers through your hair; we meet each other’s gaze and then we’re kissing slowly, softly then harder and harder as the passion burns deep inside.
