Embodiment of Thunder

When she looked up and met its eyes, for just a second Salene thought it a person, with her first instinct being to cover up, closely followed by the pent up, frantic need that radiated through her body.

But no longer than that moment, for though it had a face and a body, it was not a person. She stared in fear and awe at the creature, its form mimicking a person's, crackling with electricity and magic, the silhouette flickering. As wild as the thunderstorm that raged on. Its eyes locked with hers and her breath stopped. A deep, endless blue that thrummed with power and made her tingle. They betrayed an underlying intelligence that was entirely foreign to her. Mesmerising and terrifying in equal measure. She let out a little gasp when it moved, in fear and some anticipation both, raising a hand towards her as if in a bid...

Her eyes widened as lightning struck, seemingly right over them, the violent rumble through the earth transferring first to the log between her legs, then to her slit still pressed hard against it in need.

She couldn't scream. She couldn't even breathe. Curling up around herself at the literally stunning pleasure.

When she could look up again with desperation and want, she was prepared to beg it for release - to push her over into the orgasm that was building and building just over the edge. But it was still a surprise to see the creature, hand extended in invitation, just beyond the smoke. Deep seated roots of fear threatened to trip her shaking legs as she rose to take it.

Warm summer rains kissed the fevered skin of her arm, pleasantly refreshing and yet titillating, as she extended it outside the reach of the overhang. Every story she had been told rung in the back of her mind, screaming- but nothing happened. No monsters, no shifts of reality.

Just her hand hovering over that of this creature of magic and thunder. Even from a little distance, she could feel the sparks on her hand. A sort of... Goosebumps, only it moved and shifted. A dizzying tingle, running up her fingers, the thrum of power from the creature just barely sensed through the air.

It's head tilted, looking at her standing there still, as if asking silently why she hesitated. Salene paused. Really, she wasn't quite sure why.

And so, she placed her hand in its.

Her eyes widened. It stole her breath away, a thousand little jolts setting her nerves aflame, with each drop of rain a drum to quicken her already racing heart - tiny gasps of air and smoke all to keep her grounded. A touch, inhuman in its ephemerality, ever shifting with the wind, but as solid on her skin as any of the paltry lovers she had ever had. Like candles to the might of a wildfire.

Or a drum to the rumble of thunder.

She couldn't get out of the stifling pen fast enough, stumbling over the threshold, rushing to the welcome of the forest and the open arms of the fate that beckoned her. She couldn't wait.

The first thing that struck her was how sweet the air was. Fresh and invigorating, filling her lungs as if ripe to burst, promising relief through the cleansing of the dread smoke from her confinement.

The second was the rain. Tiny cooling drops, wept in joy through dappled tree crowns. She had expected it to be cold, removed thus from the fire, perhaps even freezing. She did not foresee the gentle summer rain to be so soothing. It was barely colder than her heated skin, and each drop was akin to a cool kiss, placed with no rhyme or reason, keeping her guessing where they would fall - on her shoulders, between strands of hair? On her thighs, tensed in lust? Or best of all, on the sensitive skin of her breasts, the storm itself showing them appreciation. It left her chasing each sensation, dearly wanting more.

And more she would have, if the air of heated amusement from the creature was anything to go by at least. It watched her with eager jolts and a patience that she was grateful for, letting her fears - though not her nerves - calm down. Letting Salene acclimatise to the feeling of rain on naked skin, to motes of magic dancing around her feet, and to the electrifying touch at her hand. Letting her take the step closer, to press herself against the storm personified, this sprite of thunder.

She had half expected it's chest to give way as parting mist, but it was as solid as the hand that held hers and the other arm that grasped around to the small of her back, running breathtaking little circles. The touch was almost too much and she writhed against the innumerable sparks that struck her skin, tantalising, intoxicating. She hurried her hand up to the thunder sprites face, to cup its head and pull it down to her, wanting more, needing more.

She pressed her lips hard against where she thought the mouth of the sprite ought to be, somewhat startled to be met with nothing at first, only for it to reshape to her desires, lips locking with hers, becoming full and soft and tingly. Her gasps and heavy breaths heated to wanting moans as sudden sparks like teeth bit down on her lip. Salene was shaking, quivering, writhing with overwhelming need, releasing its hand to grasp around and pull it closer, her nails raking down through the sparks on its back. "Please," she whispered against its lips. "Please". A whimper, an undignified whine as she pressed her mouth to the sprite's, and she couldn't care less.

She yelped with a start as it grasped a hand into a cheek of her ass, kneading her flesh just so. But just as she made to push back against it, eager for more, she could feel all her weight come down on the hand and the arm and the chest on which she now leaned, her feet having left the ground as she was picked up. Brief panic drummed through her heart, strangely adding to her addled lust, as she wrapped her legs around the sprite, settling her tensing thighs on its waist. Her hands desperately clung and clawed at it, pulling it closer.

Though the feeling of its skin on hers - mind-scattering jolts giving no reprieve - was an unreal and electrifying experience that she was loving every moment of, nothing could have prepared her for the hand grazing her weeping sex. She shrieked and writhed, pulling away at first from the sheer shock at the sensitive lower lips, only to embrace it and hurtling herself on the way over the edge and into the abyss with raw abandon. There was nothing she would not give of herself in return for the promised release ahead. She was seeing stars, grinding down on the sprite as its hand amorphously grew to cover her sex, like liquid conforming and clinging statically to each inch of flesh that she frantically rubbed against it. Friction rising as it spread her folds to breathy moans-

And it thrust into her core, filling her, charging her, overloading her first orgasm. Lights flashing before her eyes, as she buckled on the thunder that rumbled inside, vibrating with energy, giving her no time to recover from the first wrecking orgasm, but sending her violently jolting into the next. Fingers twitched, nails desperately dug into the sprite, clinging on for dear life. There was nothing, no raging, violent storm, no dancing lights, no drumming rain - only overwhelming pleasure. Only the current, slamming in and out, harder and harder and harder 'til nothing else mattered, not even her screaming muscles or fried voice. Her whole body contracting as the embodiment of the storm hammered into her, from one orgasm to the next until she lost count, at the mercy of a tireless sprite filling her with energy 'til she was ripe to burst, ravishing her body and making stars dance on her eyes.

Pleasure, writhing.

Unending.

Electric.

It wasn't until she could barely hold on any more, her body rapidly falling limp from contractions and her poor sex having gone numb that she tapped on the sprite, lightly first, then urgently, to make it stop the hand from drilling into her. The sprite paused, puzzled, hand perched in the entrance of her slit to painful jolts on her tender skin, making her squirm weakly in discomfort before it finally pulled away. The other hand, grasped still firmly on her ass, should have been painful too, as should the chest pressed against hers or the shoulder on which her head rested. But to Salene, they were naught more than tiny sparks, reminding her that she was still alive, despite her body doing its best to feign otherwise. She could feel it looking at her in befuddlement, carefully setting her down upon the soft mosses next to her shelter - going no further than the thin wisps of white smoke from the dying fire. It was all that she could do to keep her eyes open, watching that incredible creature as it straightened up and retreated into the forest with the storm.

She fell asleep a changed woman to the distant rumble of thunder.

- | | -

The sound of gentle, trained footfalls were obscured by the drums of thunder and the rain striking earth. She wished she could shed the greenscloak from her shoulders, release the lightning pin holding it closed, to feel its familiar kiss on the bare skin beneath. But there was no time for that. Not yet.

Just beyond a few hills and bends in the forest path that she walked parallel to, lightning was striking rapidly down, making the forest thrum with thunder. Passing the bend, the source was plain to see - a beloved thunder sprite, bent over a young traveller, convulsing in pleasure.

Young and naive, as she once had been, before her revelations. She smiled and watched the expression of rapture, a hand drifting downward, knowing that the forest kept her hidden. That too, the traveller would know in time, learning as she had. No longer shunning the rain, but embracing it in secrecy. But they would not have to fumble in the dark as she once had.

Salene couldn't wait to enlighten them on the ways of the Storm.