Message-ID: <15244eli$9809110542@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/15244.txt> From: Sven <sven@brass-neck.demon.co.uk> Subject: NEW STORY: Summer Rain - (MF Rom Cons) Sven the Elder Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-Id: <E0zHDyC-0002Kw-00@post.mail.demon.net> Summer Rain ©Sven the Elder Sept '98 =========================================================== This story contains words of a sexual nature and should not be read by juveniles. If this means you, go away and read something else; you shouldn't be here anyway. This is a work of fiction and in no way portrays real life - if you can't hack that, go lie down in a dark room; the bad feelings will go away. =========================================================== This work is copyright by the author. You may download and keep one copy for your personal use as long as the author's byline and e-mail address and these paragraphs remain on the copy. Any posting on a website or to a newsgroup requires the previous permission of the author. =========================================================== Dedicated with much love and affection to a special person. The skein of geese swept low down the river, wildly honking as they talked amongst themselves. The leader was too busy piloting to chat. Eying the bridge ahead, he swept majestically upwards, taking the group up, over, and then swooping down the other side and out of sight. Distant splashing told the tale of their arrival further downstream. Shortly they would wade ashore and start grazing as they fed in the warmth of the late afternoon. The sounds of the river generally were muted in the shimmering temperature of the end of the hot summer's day. The heat was oppressive and the towering clouds nearby spoke of a thunderstorm before long. From the reeds close by where the boat was nosed in came the gentle cluck of a moorhen, still protectively watching her chicks, even though the second, late brood were now almost fully grown. A gust of wind from the gathering storm rustled the reeds, the gentle noise breaking the quiet. The fisherman sitting in the stern glanced at the clouds, sighed inwardly, and started to gather his lines in. Finally, all done and tidied away, he pulled in the keep-net and released the meagre catch back to freedom. The watching woman, looking at the dark clouds sweeping in, said, "I think we should just secure things and stay here to ride it out." A quiet man, he nodded his agreement, and went forward to set out the hitherto unused anchor. Swinging it briefly, he threw it towards the shallows and waited as it sank; then, putting his weight against it to make sure it was gripping, he tied the end fast on the foredeck. He came back along the side deck of the dayboat, unfurling the canvas top to the cabin, springing the bungee cords into place along the sides so that the impending weather would be kept at bay. As he returned to the after part of the boat, a gust again stirred the reeds. This time the wind was heavily laden with the smell of rain. A scant few seconds later the promise was fulfilled, as the first heavy drops splattered down in desultory fashion. He ducked quickly under cover as the storm broke with a raking flash of lightning and its accompanying growling roar of thunder. The noise of the rain and intermittent thunder on the awning top made speech next to impossible. The man gazed at the curtain of water, visibility down to no more than a few yards. The woman glanced up occasionally, otherwise staying immersed in the book she was reading. Eventually, as the dusky gloom of the storm closed in, she gave up the struggle. With no lights in the cabin, and now only the flashes of lightning to illuminate the page, the effort was too much. Bored, she studied the profile of the man opposite as he half-dozed in the gloom. The face was rugged and lean, the neck powerful. His hair was flecked with grey, the beard grey, almost white. Had she been able to see them, the eyes were a deep ice blue. They gave him a piercing look, making his face seem stern, but kind, with laughter lines to soften the cragginess. She leaned forward beside his head and stroked the side of his cheek with the back of one hand. "Penny for them?" Without opening his eyes he laughed gently, softly, almost inaudibly in the noise of the drumming rain, and said, "Not a lot, really; the old days, I suppose. The madness of youth." She giggled a little. "Do you remember, all that time ago, dancing in the storm, in the rain? It was like a pagan ritual, made me feel so alive." Abruptly she stood up, half-stooping under the rain-drummed awning. Easily she slipped her light top off and threw it gently on the seat. She followed it quickly with the tracksuit bottom she had been wearing, skimming her knickers off at the same time. As she slipped them off, she eased her deck shoes off as well. In a slightly awkward, self-conscious movement, she brushed her hair back out of her eyes. Still stooped and with her slight breasts suddenly pendulous, full and swaying to her movement, she eased gently past him and stood in the open awning door. The skin of her front already glistened from the spray of the rain and her own perspiration in the humidity of the storm. She stepped outside and straightened up in the downpour that was still going on, even though the eye of the thunderstorm seemed to have moved off upstream. Holding her head up and back, she opened her mouth wide to trap some of the water now coursing down her naked body. Her arms momentarily outspread, she pirouetted and dipped her dance to the rain gods. Beads of water ran down her bobbing breasts in rivulets, down to meet at the junction of her naked thighs, and then on down into the wiry fur of her sex. She keened an ancient chant now, still dancing but directing her movements towards the man, who smiled gently to the woman. It was a wistful smile of times gone by. Then, caught up in the magic of the movement, he too disrobed and slowly, almost shyly, joined his lady in that pagan dance of love. The pair, oblivious to the rain coursing down, danced, then clinched, as he kissed her neck and face, trying to kiss away the water. He dropped his face to her breasts and kissed the drops from their slope before nibbling gently at her erect nipples. Eyes closed and head still tilted back, she moaned, the sound lost in the noise of the storm, her hands now cradling her lover's head, pulling him to her breasts. Her dance now stilled, she held him still as he moved his head down across her stomach, his lips making her shiver in spite of the summer warmth, as he brushed her navel and then the top of the light thatch of fur at the confluence of her thighs. She gasped as he, now kneeling, held the sweet roundness of her rear and pulled her to him, nibbling at the very centre of her being. He darted his tongue across the top of her slit, nudging the pebble of her sensitive spot, and feeling her intake of breath as he did so. Then he pierced her with his tongue, tasting the rain-diluted juices of her arousal. He held her to his lips as he felt her knees start to buckle when the sensations became too much and almost overwhelmed her. He held her to him as she slid down to sit on his knees while he knelt before her, now kissing his way back to her breasts, and then finally to her neck and mouth. Aroused now to savage proportions, she attacked him back, pushing him to the deck. Straddling his legs, she bit him hard on the neck, leaving a purple bruise that rapidly deepened in colour as she paused to laugh a deep throaty chuckle and enjoy her handiwork. Then she kissed his neck again. more gently this time, lulling his senses before swooping on one of his wet, erect nipples and biting it gently. Sitting on his upper thighs, she raked her fingernails, none too gently, down across his chest, leaving red lines that met in the wiry grey hair of his loins. Without pausing she cupped his straining penis in her finger tips as she slowly ran them up his length, dipping her head so that, as her fingers reached the corona of the head, her lips touched and kissed the very tip. He gasped, his back arching at the sensation, trying to move with her and make her take more of him into her; but she laughed again, a long low laugh as she teased him, running the cleft of her sex down the sharpness of his shin bone, arching her back in the pleasure of the sensation as she did so. Then she swooped on him again and took his length between her pursed lips. Aware of his distant gasp as the blood thundered in her ears, she bobbed her lips round the sensitive head. Again rubbing her own sex against his legs, she moved up and, deciding the time was ripe, positioned herself over him before plunging down to take his whole length inside her in one movement. They paused for a heartbeat before they thrust and moved against each other, both so aroused that the ensuing climax came crashing as quickly as the thunder still rumbling in the background. They held their arched position, fixed in the strobe effect of the still flashing lightning, each straining against the other for maximum penetration. Then, slowly, she subsided, collapsing, to lay her breast on his and her head alongside his, cheeks touching, breathing in unison, hearing the hammer of the other's heartbeat as they held on tightly, lying in the now slackening rain. She sighed gently as she felt him shrivel and slip from her now tenuous grasp. She kissed him and smoothed the hair back from his rain-slicked forehead. She shivered slightly as the summer rain continued to fall, and then, as if returning to the full awareness of their surroundings, they stirred and she raised herself up and helped him to his feet. She held his hand as they ducked back under the shelter of the awning roof. He rummaged in a bag and produced a towel. Lovingly he dried her, occasionally pausing to kiss her shoulder, or the edge of a breast, or anything else near to him. He kneeled as he dried her legs, and then paid homage to the centre of their recent pleasure, drying her carefully and then planting a kiss, that made her gasp in her still sensitive state. She in turn returned the favour, drying him lovingly. Then, as the rain outside the cabin began to thin and finally stop, they slowly dressed. ############## Some time later they sat silently in the sternsheets of the boat, holding hands in the normal gathering dusk of evening. No words passed between them; no words had been or were necessary to express their love. The love of years of togetherness needs no words of expression. Just a touch, or a look, or even a mutual thought shared by intuition to confirm that place, deep in the other's heart. © Sven the Elder September '98 With much gratitude to FredFan, my most excellent proofer and friend. He has the wit, ability and kindness to alter things to reflect what I meant to write in the first place. Sven the Elder official Website is now at: http://www.asstr.ml.org/~sven Sven the Elder http://www.asstr.ml.org/~sven Erotic Authors Guild (UK Chapter) -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>