A Romp in the Rain

A Romp in the Rain is a work of Fiction

---

Rain pitter-patters on the tin roof, only to be drowned out by a roar of thunder. It echoes off the coniferous trees which line the mountain encompassed valley like it needs to remind the forest of its power. The sound is deafening, even inside. It has been raining since I awoke this morning and with nothing to do, I’ve laid in my bed, mostly nude, a book propped up in one hand.

The smell of coffee brings me out of my pages, my nose leading the way. I tiptoe to the galley-style kitchen and stop in my tracks. His back is to me, but what a back it is. Muscles roll over his frame as he bends to take something from the oven. Jeans sit low on narrow hips and when he turns around, that prominent V that I love to run my tongue along fills my vision.

I eye him up, from his bare toes to the tip of his nose. This man makes my mouth water and looking at him now, I feel my heart rate increase. I bite my lip as I take him in, receiving a sinister smile in response. He stalks toward me, his hips shifting with each step. His jeans barely cover the ridge where pelvis meets cock, and I have to resist the urge to pop his top button.

“See something you like?” he asks me seductively.

Releasing my lip, I smile back, taking in the sight of his chest, biceps, and abs. All the firewood he’s cut the old-fashioned way has done him wonders.

“Indeed, I do.” I reply, “Although, I’m unsure if I like this,” I say, running a single finger along the groove that disappears inside his jeans. “Or this,” I run my fingers through the spattering of hair that lines his chest. “Or this more.” Standing on my tiptoes, I place my lips on his and give him a chaste kiss.

His arms come around me, holding me against him. He’s let me be playful, but I know he’s now in control. Lifting me with ease, he settles my bottom on the tiled countertop where he quickly fills the space between us with his hips. Deepening the kiss, he pries my mouth open with his tongue, probing in that seductive way he does. When I succumb to his advances, the tip tickles my lip before running along the tip of my own.

In a quick movement, my hands are behind my back, held in position by his larger one. He pushes me back gently, then lifts the only piece of clothing I wear over my head. Not expunging it, he lets the white shirt settle across my eyes, blocking my view of his gloriousness. I let out a groan that turns to a gasp as his warm mouth latches onto a nipple.

Holding it in place with his teeth, he teases the sensitive peak with his tongue, waiting for it to respond. His fingers brush up my thigh before being buried deep inside me. He pumps slowly, much too slow. Once my nipple is at full attention, he increases the pressure until the only sound I can make is a whimper. He’s always rough with me, just the way I like. He lets my nipple go with an audible pop. The sound makes me giggle, but the roar of thunder drowns it out.

Removing his fingers, he grabs my legs, wrapping them around his waist. I have the sensation of moving but cannot see where. I hear a door open, and then the cacophony of the outside storm fills my senses. The temperature change brings goosebumps to my skin and I shiver in his arms.

“Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up,” he says as he steps into the deluge of rain. I gasp as the torrential downpour blankets us, soaking the T-shirt still fastened around my face. We make it to the canopy of a tree, where he removes the wet garment from my head, letting it fall in a puddle to the ground.

I look up at him with a question firmly on my face. Could we not have continued in a warm bed? It says. His returning look promises, We can do that anytime. This will be more fun. Before I can form a rebuttal to our wordless discussion, I hear the zipper of his pants being undone.

He raises my arms against the rough bark of the tree, wrapping my hands around a low laying branch. “Hands stay here, dirty girl. If you move them, I will punish you,” he whispers in my ear. The words sound soft, although his meaning is not. The threat only arouses me. A simple nod is my reply.

I watch as he releases his hard length from his pants, pushing them down to give him better access. Using one hand to hold me in place, he covers his cock with the other. I watch as he strokes himself, his hand brushing my mid-section with every pull. He picks up the pace and I watch in fascination as his face fills with arousal.

He releases animalistic sounds as he forces himself towards climax, his moans and grunts mingling with the sounds of thunder and gusts of wind. Water streams down my back, but I have my gaze focused on him, his hand and his glorious erection. My mouth waters as I think of all the possibilities, places he could wedge his length into. Each scenario passes through my imagination, and I moan as arousal slams into me anew.

“You want this? Tell me.”

“I want you.”

“You want me? I’m right here.” His hand continues its journey up and down. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and I lick my lips, wishing I was whisking the milky essence away.

“I want your cock.” I say unsure.

“I’m sorry, I missed that. The wind seems to have blown your words away. What did you say?”

“I want your cock!” I say again, much louder.

“Where do you want it? Here, against your belly? Do you want me to paint you in my desire? Place a claim on you, here for the entire forest to see?”

I moan at this. He makes it sound so delicious and dirty. Moisture swells from my folds and I squirm, trying to press myself against him, to relieve some of the built-up pressure created there. Smiling at me, he takes a step back, still holding me in place, but putting me further from what I crave. My lips turn down in a pout.

“Tell me where you want my cock, dirty girl. In your mouth, so you can swallow my seed. Or maybe in your beautiful round ass, milking me with your tight hole. Do you want me in your wet cunt, your juices running down to the forest floor? You better be quick about it, or I’ll decide.”

I can’t concentrate, his movements mixed with his words have created a heady knot of desire in my belly and all I can think about is eliminating my need. I’m not quick enough and he lifts my legs over his shoulders, drapes them over him, opening me to his desires. I’ve never felt more vulnerable, or more aroused.

His mouth latches onto the nub at the apex of my thighs and I cry out, eclipsing the rumblings of thunder. He devours me lick by lick, before pressing his tongue inside. My hips gyrate against his stubble, the short hairs chaffing my thighs. It just pushes me higher. Before I know it, my release is there, a flood waiting to be released from a dam. I take a breath and just as I’m about to explode; he stops.

I groan as my head tilts back against the tree. His laugh fills the surrounding space as he lowers my legs back to his waist.

“Time’s up, dirty girl. Now I take what I want.”

He pulls me onto his hard rod in one tug, filling me, rubbing just the right spot. Within seconds, my climax is again at its peak. I moan and groan and try to push against him, but he keeps me firmly in place, not allowing me to take what I need.

“Are you ready to come already, dirty girl? You like this? Like having me in control?”

I’m about to say yes, but my eyes roll into the back of my head and I let go. My orgasm rips through me, makes me see stars. As I’m groaning with each wave of climax, a clap of thunder sounds overhead and the rain streams down harder. He’s thrusting into me ruthlessly, each ram of his cock slapping against my ass. My vision is slowly clearing when he stills and releases a primal grunt, loud enough to compete with the thunder.

Holding me in place, he catches his breath, forehead against mine. The tree is doing a good job of covering us, but the rain has found a trail. Drops land on my head, splatter on my arms. It’s soaked through his hair and jeans.

He’s massaging my shoulders to work out the kinks, my feet finally planted on the ground. Taking my hand, we walk towards the cabin, but stop as we see a hiker step out of the woods into our clearing.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I was looking for some shelter from the storm. A place to get dry.” The stranger says, a rosy hue highlighting his face. The flush says he embarrassed, the hooded lids and tented slacks say he’s aroused.

I look at my lover and smile at him. Winking at me, he looks back at the hiker and welcomes him in.

Header image for Romp in the Rain found on Canva.

---

For more erotic fiction from MrsK, see Fiction.

Find Non-Fiction in Submissive Journal.

Header image created with canva.com