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Archive name: smelling.txt (MF, rom, exh)
Authors name: RJJoseph (blndplt1@aol.com)
Story title : Smelling Rain

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Smelling Rain (MF, rom, exh)
by RJJoseph (blndplt1@aol.com)

***

A passionate stolen moment consumated beneath an angry 
sky. 

***

Thunder booms from the distance, ringing off the hills 
behind me. 

Dark thunderheads rise, looming over the horizon. The 
last dying rays of the sun, refracted red and angry 
slowly give way to the growing clouds rising on 
convected air masses. 

The storm will strike soon; wreaking havoc on the 
orderly masses of humanity whose timetables rarely allow 
any time for the intrusions of an environment everyone 
takes for granted. The birds, in their wisdom, take 
flight for higher ground along with the gathering 
breezes, desperate to stay ahead of the coming torrent. 

I stand, face to the sky, eyes closed; smelling the cool 
change as the barometer drops. The clean smell harkens 
my memories back to the night I had you, beneath the 
stairs, between the townhouses, stolen into the night.

As the first raindrops spot my shirt, I drift off 
reveling in the passion that drove us past our fears and 
inhibitions.

My arms are spread in supplication towards the heaving 
sky, mutely pleading for the chance to have you again. 
Lightning strikes nearby, responding to my cries as if 
to say, be careful what you wish for. 

As the tears roll down my face, the saltiness mixed in 
my mouth with the incessant rain, I realize that being 
careful is not what I seek, it is you.

Ironic how it's come to this, when you consider how it 
all began.

We were both wary of each other. The stolen glances only 
supported our fear that this may be something larger 
than we could comfortably handle. We both had histories, 
certain baggage that precluded us from standing forth 
openly and proclaiming our lust. 

So we skirted the issue, our conversations ever placid 
and safe; devoid of any innuendo or suggestion. We never 
showed each other the face of the desire that welled 
inside us, as we stood close. I seem to remember that we 
stayed rooted in that spot, lulled by the false sense of 
security, for a while.

That Friday night in late August, however, all hell 
broke loose. 

The coming storm was the worst one to hit the seaside 
town in ten years. It was if the streets had rolled up 
in fear. There was not a soul to be seen or to be 
served. The restaurant closed early, those of us on 
shift clustered around the bar as if we had nowhere else 
to go. As I remember it, I think we all were scared to 
leave. Better to have taken our chances there, where 
there was at least food, drink and candles to be struck.

The dank walls of the familiar bar were as a sanctuary 
that night.

After a few shots of tequila the mood started to loosen 
with the nervous laughter of people trying very hard to 
ignore the obvious. Everyone got a little more animated 
as the liquor poured through them, filling them with an 
empty bravado. 

Conversations took on a boisterous level as braggarts 
and liars competed for attention. I straddled the corner 
of the bar, nearest the window, as far away from the 
sweating crowd as I could. I couldn't deny that I was 
part of it, but embarrassed by my need to be there.

That's when I saw you through the streaked window, 
outside, down at the corner. You watched the front door 
of the bar, waiting. My heart leapt at the thought that 
it might be me that you were waiting for. Finally you 
caught me, looking at you through the smoke-smeared 
glass. Defiantly you held my eyes, as if in dare. You 
lowered your umbrella and I watched, mute, enraptured as 
the steady rain soaked your hair. The black dress you 
wore clung to your body like a hungry lover, your 
breasts outlined against the rough cotton fabric. 

Your eyes never left mine, the light turn of your lips 
tempting me out.

Leaving my warming beer on the bar, I stumbled through 
the crowd that had gathered at the door, watching you. 
Forgetting my change, my glasses and any chance left for 
sanity, I went forth into the rain. I stood in front of 
you; close enough to smell your need, still held by your 
graying eyes. The damp hair framed your lovely face that 
haunts my dreams still. You held out your hand and I 
took it meekly, knowing that my time had come at last; 
that defining moment when I knew greatness was upon me.

I shook with the fear and the joy of it. 

This was the gift I would not squander, I silently swore 
to myself.

We silently turned and walked up the winding lane, into 
the gathering gloom of our stormy nightfall.

I gathered up my courage about me, forcing my pace.

It was now or never, I chided myself.

Swallowing deep, I took charge and veered off to our 
left; ignobly dragging you in my wake. Away from the 
dimmed streetlights, between two towering buildings, we 
huddled into one another. The apartments that loomed 
above us seemed to cower before the storm, lashed 
together against the onslaught with the fragile strength 
of an intricate lacing of stairs. 

Quietly, I ushered you into the shadows of streaming run 
off, beneath the stairs; a temporary shelter in which to 
grab a brief respite against the wind and rain. 

A secret place in which to finally show you the dreams 
that I had held so close. 

You shivered briefly in the coolness of our hide away 
chilled by the breeze that whistled through the 
alleyways.

For the first time I saw in your eyes a tinge of panic, 
uncalculated dangers running through your mind. I held 
onto your shoulder with one hand, using my other hand to 
furtively search my jacket's pockets.

Dammit, I cursed to myself, it had to be there 
somewhere. No not there, here perhaps.

Shit.

Thunder crashed over my head. 

Startled, I laughed. 

Remembering now, I shake my head and silently chuckle. 
The look of your face then in that moment, what you must 
have thought. 

The panic was clear for anyone to see. You had started 
the dance but half way through you found out that the 
rhythm of the beat might sweep you away, in spite of 
your leading. 

Then, I finally found it.

It was where I least expected it; I mean I had saved it 
for so long. It was not like me to have been so careless 
with it. It had been my own fault, of course. The object 
that I had held and cherished for so long was rolled 
sloppily, stuffed haphazardly into an inside pocket of 
my jacket. Pulling it from my coat its condition lacked 
any of the meaning and importance that I placed upon it.

In fear of my next movement you stood away; ready for 
flight, listing before me so that you could make a break 
for the street, if the need suddenly arose. 

Who would feel more stupid then? The one who promised or 
the one who delivered?

You decided to yourself that it might be worth riding it 
out; just to see, just to guess, if only for a minute.

You watched me smooth the paper out, straightening the 
edges with care. As the paper rolled out your eyes 
brightened to see what I had placed upon it, using color 
and charcoal to convey what my soul saw of the outside 
world. Your smile shined through the gloaming, as you 
instinctively knew, that the patterns of shading and 
colors portrayed your greatness as perceived by me. I 
proudly displayed it to you, showing without words but 
with gestures how, in the perfect patterned world of my 
imagination; your lovely spirit interacted with mine.

It is not complete, I pantomimed to you using grand and 
meaningless movements. I mysteriously placed it into a 
covered alcove.

Then, I pulled you close. 

With one last falling look into your eyes, my hands 
moved to your face. I wanted to remember every facet, 
every mark; every line for if this were to be the one 
and only time with you then my memories would have to 
suffice the rest of my days. I wanted them as rich and 
complex as possible. You followed my eyes, mesmerized at 
the care with which you were being fondled. You closed 
your eyes and, without intent, bit your lip, lost in the 
loving way in which I smoothed your brow. 

You had wanted it, imagined it to be a coupling of rough 
savage beauty, a hard joining that would carry its 
motion's memory in your bones for days. You foundered in 
the unexpected luxury of caress. That caring, sensuality 
of touch played over you and took you away. Your back 
arched, swooning in my arms as my hands inspected your 
body, following the curves of your ass.

I took great pains to follow the deep curves of your 
body, fingering the slope of your pelvis, grasping the 
back of your knees; digging in to your muscles.

Your nipples were raw from erection, brushing against 
the heavy broadcloth of your dress. Your head snapped 
back as I took your breast into my mouth, tenderly 
biting it through the rain-drenched material. 

My left hand supported you in the small of your back, 
the right burrowed beneath your dress to massage your 
inner thigh. I began to nibble, kiss and devour your 
neck, pushing your dress off the shoulder with my mouth. 
Your moaning told me that the pace was excruciatingly 
delicious, pulling up your need through your soul 
slowly. My hand made it's way up your leg until it 
rested, almost, upon your heat; your pussy so hot and 
wet, longing to be loved.

Pushing against the low storage shed next to the 
building, I spun you around and bent you over the box. 
You gasped as I threw your dress over your back and got 
down on my knees behind you. Clutching the sides of the 
shed with your hands, your hair flipped over your 
shoulder as you turned your head, desperate to watch me. 

In the mud, I roughly gripped your thighs and pulled 
your ass to me. You arched your neck and threw your face 
to the sky as you felt my mouth sucking on your ass, 
probing with my tongue; inhaling your sweet desire. I 
took time to release you long enough to catch your 
breath before I started to spank the white cheeks of 
your ass as I kissed it sloppily from behind at the same 
time. Once, twice, the redness started to spread, 
bringing heat and color to the surface; exposing your 
passion openly. 

I reached around your thrusting hips, placing my hand 
upon your throbbing pussy. I soul kissed your pussy from 
behind, my face becoming one with your body. My tongue 
lashed your lips in circular motions. I tenderly played 
with your clitoris, awakening the hardness within. It 
strained against it's hooded flesh to rub up against the 
flirting fingers that teased it. You felt your body 
pulling at the seams, your lust filling you so much so 
that it was like the taste of blood in your mouth; the 
power incessant, undeniably urgent in it's potency. 

Your guttural cries demanded me; called me to action. 
The fevered look in your eyes commanded me to mount you; 
to impale you upon my ready manhood. 

We became like feral animals, howling into the night, 
fierce against the elements.

The rain took on a rapid primal pace as I stumbled to my 
feet, drunk with the power of the passion that held us. 
Lightning shattered nearby as I entered you slowly from 
the rear, cautious and careful. I pulled your arms back 
as you whimpered into yourself; my gliding prick filling 
you as you had only hoped it would. I pulled your dress 
down to your elbows and used the loose material to bind 
your hands tightly. You whispered raggedly with hopes 
that I would not hurt you or abuse the opportunity that 
you had placed in my trust. Your edgy fears only 
heightened the energy that coursed through your limbs. 
Your heavy breasts were your only purchase against the 
unforgiving wood of the storage housing.

The drapes of the nearest window swayed, catching our 
eyes. Frozen, we barely breathed as your muscles clamped 
down on me, holding me still; feeling every inch of me 
in and on you. Gone too far to care about being caught 
out in this position I started to move against you in 
determined long, loping thrusts. Your eyes closed and 
your mouth moved in silent supplications, grateful for 
this moment of complete domination and submission.

The tempo slowly increased as we slipped between perfect 
rhythms and opposing strokes. At that point it was clear 
to us that we must only move quicker and quicker, 
rushing together towards ecstasy. My legs tightened as I 
felt my orgasm rising, gathering momentum up through my 
body. I slammed harder, gyrating my hips. 

Slapping your body with mine, the sound echoed off the 
closest walls. Your body rose off the storage lid as the 
first wave of pleasure ripped through you. Panting, your 
eyes were wide open in astonishment; you realized that 
you were coming again. The orgasms came closer together 
till they became one so large that you could not think, 
breathe or move. Your body shuddered against me, your 
limbs quivered, spastically. In the throes of that most 
impossible passion I grabbed your arms to steady you, 
rocking you back from the brink. I was so swollen, 
unable to hold back, unwilling to release.

I reached over and grabbed the pastel sketch that I 
brought. I tried to vainly keep the pace, struggling to 
place the drawing under us. You rode your passion again 
towards another climax. Then you broke your bonds and 
braced your body with your hands, moving up towards 
mine. I could no longer hold back my desire. Deeply 
wrenched inside, I howled at the rain, screaming your 
name as I came. Feeling crushed, I spewed my seed 
strongly inside you. I felt as though I would come 
forever, the orgasms in my mind matching the ones 
ravaging my body.

The skies brightened again as thunder exploded forth. A 
celestial orgy coming to climax just as we had done.

Instead of collapsing into a spent heap, I became 
energized. My emotions welled up inside me, threatening 
to overwhelm me. The tears streamed down my face as I 
scrambled to kiss you, to taste your mouth, to breathe 
your breath. My manhood slowly softened but I did not 
want to lose that feeling of being connected to you, of 
being one with you.

Still, there was work to be done so, reluctantly, I 
pulled out. Your moans were evidence to your desire to 
stay together a little longer. I held my prick 
carefully, watching as our combined juices fell from our 
organs, spilling onto the sketch, marking our spot. You 
looked at me dumbfounded as I pulled the paper here and 
there. It dawned on you suddenly, as I danced naked in 
the rain, that the picture was of us, of there, of then. 
The streaks of color, human liquid and rain formed 
swirls of dancing pigment on the porous paper.

It was our commemoration, our document of desire. I ran 
to you laughing, holding it so you could see. Delirious 
in that moment we gathered each other up, dancing half-
naked. Clear and free of all that had held us back.

To us it was our precious performance art piece; the 
passion, paper, dance and the slowing rain joined 
together becoming more than each alone could ever be, in 
one place, on one page, immortal.

Afterward, for the longest time that sketch hung in a 
place of honor in my warehouse studio above the 
materials rack. I enjoyed seeing it every time I went 
for a fresh piece of canvas or a particular brush. I 
lost it and everything else in the fire two years ago 
but I still see every line and splash of color that made 
up the piece in my mind's eye. The curious keeper of 
revisionist dreams inside my head helps me to keep alive 
that much of the past, at least. 

I can't seem to remember how we left it off that night 
or why we drifted apart. Maybe it was the fear that 
after the fantasy was complete there would be little 
else to sustain the relationship. Or perhaps it was the
realization that we could make our lives just as we 
always dreamed it could be; all it took was the effort 
and the tenacity to see it through. Maybe it scared us,
just a little. Much easier to go back to the mediocrity
of our previous lives and leave well enough alone. 

Looking back at it now, I would have at least liked to 
have tried. 

Still, we had our high water mark. One that we could 
always look back on and reminisce about. Something with 
which to judge our present lives against and know that, 
once, we had been there too.

Wet enough, tired and alone enough, I make my way back 
inside the house. Shaking off the excess water from my 
head and shoulders, I stop and turn back out the door.

Closing my eyes, I breathe in again, filling my lungs 
with the smell of lust remembered, fantasies lived and 
love lost.

It gets me every time.

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 24