Perfect Storm

She slid the length of his body and knelt naked at his feet in the pouring rain, yielding to the unspoken demand in his eyes.

Looking up, silently shouting over the deluge of thunder and rain, her eyes begging for him to take her.

He stood above her, one hand cupping her face; the other stroking, offering.

In the flash of lightning that illuminated her hands round his hips pulling him to her, it was impossible to tell who was the master and who the slave. He, with head thrown back, eyes closed in surrender; she looking up, eyes wide open, mouth and tongue insisting, pleading…

He moved to enter her from behind, kneeling and turning her body to fit his, in one graceful, powerful movement.

And as the torrent of the heat storm played out, thunder took them both.

She laid her face on her hands in the wet grass and only the storm heard the sound of his moans mingled with her cries of release and joy.

~ kei

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