Gathering Rain

“Fuck.”

His key always got jammed in the door at the most inopportune moments, now being one of them. He stood in a puddle of water that was rapidly dripping off of his coat and making the carpet outside his apartment all sloshy. There was water rolling off of every possible surface; his nose, eyelashes and the bits of hair plastered to his forehead were all breeding grounds for droplets. He struggled with the key for a few moments more, cursing at it and willing it, no, begging it to open the damn door. Finally the door opened with such a force that he was flung into the room.

“Fucking door.”

He removed his water-laden coat and left it on the linoleum floor; he didn’t care if the water did anymore damage to the 40-plus year old yellow and green tile. Pulling at his tie, he attempted to turn on the hall lamp. Several times.

“Damn, damn DAMN DAMN DAMN!”

Everything was going fucking wrong. He just wanted to drop his things, strip off his clothes and get in the hot bath and forget about the cold, wet miserable day. This was not happening, he thought, as he stumbled to his bedroom in the dark.

The storm was not dissipating. A blinding flash of lightening provided enough light to prevent him from tripping over a pair of shoes. It took less time than the following crack of thunder to realize that the shoes he avoided did not belong to him. They were red, which was not terribly strange, but they were patent leather stilettos and at least 3 ½ inches tall. They resembled the shoes of the old school pin-up models he was fond of. Confused, he sat down on the bed and loosened his tie and his top three buttons and rested his head on his hands, elbows on his knees. He let out a big sigh.

Suddenly a pair of warm, dry hands snaked up his arms. One slid its way stealthily into the inside of his shirt, while the other raked through the back of his hair to his forehead, pulling his head out of his open palms.

“You’re wet,” said a low female voice. The hands kept moving, one loosening and removing the tie, while the other drew lazy circles in his hair with one finger.

He relaxed back into the soft warm female form. “It’s raining, in case you hadn’t noticed. And the power is out.”

He inhaled the scent of the woman, leaning further and further into her until he could see her face from the bottom up; the neck, the chin, the full lips and nose, the dark-lashed blue eyes, the inquisitive eyebrows, the forehead and her hair, falling around her face like waves, no like waterfalls, like the rain running down the glass windows in his bedroom, that was her hair. He reached his hands up, and gently laced his fingers through the cascading hair. They stayed that way for a moment, entwined like a classical Greek statue. Her hands moved again, this time undoing the buttons of his shirt and un-tucking it from his pants. She lightly raked her nails up his torso, causing him to hiss and arch his back. She chuckled softly.

“You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”

“Oh come now, this is no where near torture… not like that one time, anyway,” she whispered conspiratorially.

She nudged him forward slightly, so that she could remove his shirt; making sure to get his arms out of the sleeves without him turning around. He leaned back into again and discovered something: she was not wearing a top, either.

How had he gone this whole time without knowing? His curiosity was too peaked now for him to resist any longer. He pretended to succumb for a few more moments. While she seemed to be giving a great deal of focus to his left ear, he flipped around and pinned her underneath him. She grinned up at him, her white teeth making her smile seem less innocent.

“You caught me,” she said, as she tried to gesture with her hands, although he was holding her wrist.

He took a long minute to observe her from the neck down. She was all curves and shadows; the perfect mix of light and dark in the near blackness of the thunderstorm. He loved to look at her, even after all this time; the dip of her clavicle, sloping down to her full, round breasts with the mauvey-pink nipples, the little space beneath her breasts that always collected sweat when she was hot, the nipped in bit that was her waist that rounded down to her belly and hips, her navel, that tiny non-orifice that was so enticing. Beneath that, he couldn’t see as he was straddling her hips, holding himself up. He released her wrists, too caught up in observing to want to restrain her any more, now wanting to use at least two of his senses to explore this wanton flesh. She laid her hands above her head when he let go, and watched him as he explored.

He took one finger and traced it from her forehead, down her jaw and to her collarbone. She arched into his hand. He then ventured to her shoulders and slid both hands around them. Down into her armpits…

“That tickles!” she squirmed under his touch but he didn’t stop. He moved on, cupping her left breast and then her right, holding them as if to measure their worth. He gently rubbed the areolas in to tiny peaks, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from his companion. He abandoned (though not entirely willingly) this area and made his way further south to her curves, pausing for a moment to ring around her adorable navel. He smiled, and looked up to see blue eyes glazed over with an unmistakable thought. Lightning flashed and her eyes appeared to be the only thing in the room with color, glowing hotly at him. She sat up quickly and kissed him throwing him off guard. Her hands attacked his belt in earnest, removing it from the loops completely and then going to work on the fly. Once she had that undone, she looked at him, slightly annoyed. He stood up on the bed and jumped to the floor. He removed his pants and boxers, all the while never taking his eyes off his lover. She lay in the bed, languid but impatient, her eyes drinking in the sight of him naked.

He was well built, and a tiny bit proud of it. His broad shoulders and narrow hips were the totally opposite of his female compatriot; his powerful lean legs completed the look. He stood over his lover, his arousal quite obvious now. She looked as if she wanted to devour him whole; given half a chance, she might do it. He slowly lowered himself down into the bed, inching his way closer and closer to her mouth. She had other plans, however and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling his mouth to hers. He laughed into her mouth as she assaulted him with her tongue. He situated himself on top of her, laying between her thighs and wrapping his arms around her.

They kissed for a few minutes (or was is a few hours?) and then both of them started to explore with their mouths, she nibbling at his neck and he assaulting her knuckles with his teeth. She hissed into his neck, damn him knowing the spots that made her wetter and hotter. She licked the spot behind his ear, the place she knew drove him wild. He bucked against her, so close to her warm wet entrance. He slid further down and attached himself to a nipple and she cried out.

“Damn,” she hissed, “I can’t… need to… please.” She looked to out of sorts and lovely her hair wild and bits of curls stuck to her perspiring face made her sight.

She was beautiful and he had to acquiesce to her. He positioned himself at her core; the heat radiating from her was amazing. He slid into her, causing both of them to vocalize incoherently. He stopped once he was entirely inside her, leaned down and kissed her. She arched against him and the two began to move together, hips shifting to a rhythm older than time. Neither spoke a word, or needed to; the actions were automatic and yet never felt tedious. The moans, gasps, and half-words leaving his lover’s lips let him know that she was near the edge and he was about to fall over with her.
Rapidly, both came to a mind shattering climax, wrapped about each other as if the world was ending. Neither breathed for a long moment.
He turned them onto their sides, still inside of her.

“You’re the reason my key is getting stuck in the lock,” he stated, matter-of-factly.
“Perhaps… but I had a good reason to break in.”
“Oh? Enlighten me.”
“It was dark in my apartment.”
“It’s dark here, too”
“I left my shoes here.”
“No, you didn’t, they weren’t here when I left this morning.”
“Fine… you have nicer sheets than I do,” she conceded.
He laughed, and they both drifted off to sleep, lulled by the sound of the fading thunder.