Collage by Steph!

This story is dedicated to someone who will always be very special to me who’s finally realizing his dreams. I wish him well.

 

In the Eye of the Storm...

It’s blowing in, I can smell it on the wind that’s lightly fluttering my curtains. Sitting in my big comfy chair I notice that the sun is no longer shining, the dark clouds starting to shroud the day in darkness. Lightning flashes and in the distance I hear the rumbling of thunder, its low resonance striking a cord deep inside of me.

Storms have always fascinated me. The sights, the sounds, the power. While I love everything about them, I also respect them. A thing of beauty but a force of nature. Simplicity and chaos.

Kind of reminds me of the man sleeping in my bed.

I look over at him, and the feelings I have for him...I never would I have imagined my heart ever feeling this full. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, in a man, in a lover. When he touches me nothing in the world matters but just us, in that moment in time. The world and all of its troubles and trials fade away, and all that’s left is what’s right in our lives. Shelter in the eye of the storm.

Another rumble sounds, closer this time, and I let the power of the storm surround me, igniting a deep and burning passion inside.

I want him.

I want to touch him, feel him come to life under my hands. A mental picture of Dr. Frankenstein and his monster pops in my head before I can stop it, and I giggle. The sound rouses him, but he doesn’t wake.

I bite my lip to keep from making another sound, warring with myself over whether to wake him or not. He’s tired; he’s been carrying a lot on his shoulders recently. The gentle maternal side of me wants to coddle him, to love and care for him, to hold him close as he sleeps.

But right now the other side of me is winning. What I feel for him is far from maternal. No, right now, all I want is to have him inside me. I want to feel him hot and hard and ready only for me. I want him to feel as out of control as I do when I touch him.

Unable to stay away, I make my way to the foot of the bed, dropping the thin robe I’m wearing before placing one knee and then the other onto the soft mattress. As if sensing my presence he rolls on to his back, the sheet riding low on his hard abdomen. His bare chest and that little patch of skin bellow his belly button is enough to make my mouth water.

I’m in a bad way. I can feel my whole body thrumming with sexual energy. Without a second thought I move the sheet away, exposing his nude body. He’s so incredibly built, and my fingers actually itch to start at the soles of his feet and touch every inch of him.

But my need wins out, and instead of foreplay I go right for the goods. I take his semi-hard cock into my hands, feeling its silky steel texture between my fingertips. He’s growing in my hand, his body reacting to my touch even in slumber. For a moment it almost feels like I’m taking advantage of him...almost.

He whispers my name, and I look up, but his eyes are still closed. I wonder for a moment if he’s still asleep and decide to find out the answer in a most satisfactory way.

I lick the blunt tip of him, swirling around, his salty taste bursting on my tongue. I moan, unable to go another second without taking him into my mouth. When I feel his big hand on the back of my head, I have to smile. I love his gentleness. He makes me feel special no matter what sexual situation we find ourselves in. I trust him and he trusts me.

When I suck harder he gasps, and I take it as a sign to continue. I fondle the heavy weight below his cock, and love it when I feel him strain against me. He wants to come in my mouth, I know he does. And right now I’m in the mood to let him do it.

Never moving my mouth, I look up at him through my lashes, giving him the look I know he’s wanting. He sighs in pleasure and moves my head with his thrusts. After several hard strokes he tenses and groans out my name, his hot liquid splashing against the back of my throat. I take all of him I can before lifting and licking my lips.

This time he growls, taking me by the arms and pulling me up his body. I straddle his hips and I sigh with relief. He’s still hard.

He lifts me slightly and next thing I know he’s finally there, buried inside me. "Oh, yes..."

I ride him, with the wind and the rain and the shadows surrounding us. Pushing me on, driving me forward. It all feels so good, every thrust bringing me that much closer to the edge. He’s looking into my eyes, the intensity in that steady gaze rivals the gale just outside my window. I want release. I never want it to end.

I’m torn between wanting to come and wanting to stay like this forever. But he doesn’t give me a choice. When his hand reaches between us to stroke me I go up in flames. I come, my body shaking with the force of my orgasm and I clench around him, my whole being continuing to rock with the aftershocks.

I feel him grasp my hips in both hands and soon he’s following me over the edge, emptying himself deep inside me.

I fall forward my body resting on top of his. He kisses my forehead, and somehow I find the strength to look up at him. My hair is a mess, hanging limply in my face and he smiles as he brushes it out of my eyes. It’s such a tender gesture that I feel my eyes start to tear up.

I kiss him, trying to tell him without words exactly how much he means to me. There’s another crack of lightning, the thunder rumbles and I shiver. When his arms tighten around me I sigh.

God, I love the rain.

The End.