Rainy Night Seductions

A light rain was falling when Alexander Brock left his office at the end of the day. It had been unseasonably hot and humid for several days until a front moved through during the night and brought the rain. Alexander stepped out through the glass door underneath the overhang. It had been raining steadily all day, but never very hard. A refreshing breeze accompanied the rain, cleansing the air of the humidity and rejuvenating the city despite the dreary sky.

 

Alexander pulled the collar of his raincoat up around his neck, opened his umbrella, and headed down the street to the diner where he always went for supper. He walked slowly, leisurely, inhaling the fresh air, listening to the rain drumming on his umbrella, and watching the raindrops fall off the edge, splashing into his face. He didn't mind. He loved the rain, the feeling of invigorating renewal it brought with it, and the clouds traveling overhead to unknown destinations.

 

At the diner, he hung his raincoat on a hook in the entrance, deposited his umbrella in the stand, and found himself a table in the middle row where he liked to sit. He barely looked at the menu; he usually knew beforehand what he was going to have. While he waited for the waitress to come and take his order, he glanced around the diner as he always did after he decided on his meal.

 

A young woman sat in the booth across the aisle, facing him, apparently waiting for the waitress as well, for she still had the menu in front of her. She was more interesting than beautiful, in an alluring kind of way. She appeared to be quite tall, a bit heavy, perhaps, but her face fascinated him the moment he laid eyes on her.

Her face was quite pale and had an almost watery kind of translucence to it, as if her skin were reflecting the windowpane with the rain running down the glass. 

 

Her lips were full, glistening with moisture, glassy, almost, he thought. Her eyes were deep blue, like twin ponds in the aquatic landscape of her face, giving her an impression of sensuous fluidity and calm serenity. It was almost as if he could see raindrops bouncing off the quiet surfaces. Her tousled blonde hair was damp with rain, probably from walking to the diner without an umbrella, raindrops still clinging to it, a bush gathering the rain with its leaves, the droplets glistening, sparkling under the neon lights.

 

He realized he was staring at her and that she knew he was, but she merely looked back at him with a quiet, liquid kind of smile on her face. He couldn't help glancing at her all through his meal; he was so fascinated by her looks, and she smiled every time he did. He wanted to say something to her, but he couldn't quite find the proper opening, especially since they were both concentrating on the meals in front of them. He would think of something.

 

When they finished eating and the waitress brought their coffees, he finally looked straight at her, and she quickly looked back at him.

Encouraged by her easy smile, he held up his cup and said across the aisle, "Good coffee, isn't it?"

 

She nodded, then gestured invitingly towards the seat across from her. He took his coffee over to her and slid into her booth.

 

"Alexander," he introduced himself, holding out his hand across the table. "Alexander Brock."

 

"Nikki," she said, putting her hand into his. "With two k's."

 

Her hand felt soft and easy in his, and he didn't want to let go, didn't want to stop looking at her. They made small talk, sipping their coffees, and although he had to let go of her hand, he didn't have to stop looking at her. He kept looking into her pond eyes and saw his reflection in the rain-pitted surface. He could drown in those eyes.

They finished their coffees and put their cups down. "Would it be alright," he asked, "if I gave you a ride home? Or do you have your own car here?"

 

"I don't have a car," Nikki replied. "I take the bus wherever I have to go, or I walk." She hesitated for a moment, glanced at him as if she weren't quite sure about something, then continued. "I share an apartment with two girlfriends," she said. "It wouldn't be a good place to go."

 

He wanted to shout with joy. He wanted to drive out into the countryside somewhere and go running naked in the rain with her, but he couldn't quite get himself to verbalize his thoughts. "Mine, then?" he asked instead. He was disappointed in himself, but he really wasn't outgoing or adventuresome enough to transform the flash of a thought into reality. Perhaps the apartment was enough for just now.

She nodded. There was no need for her to say anything else.

 

They retrieved their raincoats on the way out; he picked up his umbrella, stepped outside in front of her, opened his umbrella, and held it out for her.

 

She stepped under it, slipped her hand casually over his arm, and snuggled up against him. "Where to?" she said.

 

"Underground garage," he replied, pointing in the general direction along the street.

They walked the short distance to his office building, leaning against each other, retrieved his car, and drove to his apartment, the windshield wipers maintaining their own rhythm against the persistent rain. She was leaning comfortably back in her seat, he concentrating on the wet road.

 

Once inside his apartment, he hung their raincoats on hangers in the closet and put his umbrella out on the balcony to dry while she wandered about the apartment and looked at his various collections and displays on the various shelves arranged around the living room. She seemed to feel quite at home.

 

He couldn't get back to her quickly enough. She smiled her inviting smile when he stepped back into the living room. He took her by the hand and led her straight into his bedroom. She didn't object.

 

He started with the buttons on her blouse, slowly, one by one. He liked taking his time with the undressing, and she didn't seem to mind at all, just stood there quietly and let him proceed. Before long, he came to the end of the buttons and pulled the blouse down over her arms, revealing the tops of her breasts nestled into her bra, soft, alluring promises of what was yet to come. He slid one hand into her bra and touched her breast, feeling the silky softness of her moist skin against his hand.

She sighed deeply, pressed against him until he withdrew his hand and reached behind her. 

 

He undid the clasps and slowly, slowly, so as to savor every moment, every inch of the revelation, pulled her bra down over her shoulders, and let her breasts tumble out of their enclosure. He loved this moment, this delicious ripple in time when the breasts came free and he took them into his hands, carefully and gently like invaluable treasures, and started to fondle them, squeeze them, and stroke them, touching every square inch, every alluring curve, and every sensuous line with his eager hands. It was like sliding his hand over the smoothest of surfaces, polished by rain.

She moaned delightedly, put her own hands over his, and pressed them against her breasts, leaning into him, molding herself into his hands like liquid flowing into a container. Her nipples were growing and hardening under his touch, the rain outside dripping against the windowpanes, and night falling slowly as they stood in the soft light of his bedside lamp, fondling her breasts together, rubbing them and caressing them as if they couldn't ever get enough.

 

But he wasn't finished yet. He pulled his hands out from under hers, slowly and reluctantly detaching himself from her to pull her pants down over her legs. And then the panties, bright red ones, these, the second delicious ripple in time. He hooked his fingers into the elastic and slowly, ever so slowly, pulled them down over her hips, uncovering her frizzy blonde bush, the beginning of her slit, and down over her legs. She quickly stepped out of them, and he went on his knees in front of her.

 

She readily spread her legs, and he nuzzled her bush and licked her delicious hair. She arched her back and pushed her pelvis against his face. He found her clit with his tongue and with his lips, stroking it and sucking it, and she moaned, gyrating her hips, wanting him closer, deeper, harder until he couldn't contain himself any more. He pushed himself up on his feet and led her to his bed. She pulled the covers back and they tumbled on the bed together, wrapped their arms around each other, found each other's lips and kissed as if their life depended on it and they couldn't get enough of each other.

 

She wriggled in his embrace, keeping her lips glued to his, and rolled on top of him with the fluidity of a luscious wave, rolled off him with the same kind of fluidity, the same smooth, continuous motion of a breaker rolling ashore and rolling back, and pulled him on top of her. He felt as if her body were undulating beneath him, as if he were riding a beautiful wave, rocking back and forth on her soft, sensuous body like a boat out in the ocean, like a dolphin playing in the breakers, like a toy on a pond.

She spread her legs, and he let his penis glide into her rain-soaked cave, slowly so as to savor every single moment of his penetration. 

 

He could feel her internal muscles tighten around his penis and suck him inside, suck him into the wetness, the warmth, and the comfort of her receptacle until he had slid into her as far as he could and she had swallowed him as deeply as she possibly could. He took her liquid breasts into his hands, her eyes drawing him into their world.

 

A sudden lightning bolt zigzagged across the sky, a clap of thunder overhead, vibrating the windowpanes, and the rain was stronger now, fiercer against the glass. She shuddered and moaned at the same time and flung her legs over his hips, her arms around his shoulders, molding her liquid body against him again. Her skin was moist and slippery with excitement as he let his hands glide over her trembling body, her moans delirious with unrestrained joy, her eyes full of rain. The lightning bolts kept flashing into the room, the thunder close behind, the rain tapping against the window, engulfing them in its spell.

 

They spent hours in each other's embrace, floating from orgasm to orgasm, effortlessly, harmoniously. They watched the lightning in the room and listened to the thunder echoing through the night as they pleasured each other in so many different ways. They were rolling under and over each other like wind-swept waves, her eyes wide with wonder and excitement, glistening droplets of water running slowly down the windowpane. They finally fell asleep late at night, still holding on to each other as tightly as they could.

 

When he woke up in the morning, she was gone. The rain had stopped, and the early morning sun was shining brightly into his room from a fresh sky. The faint echo of her perfume hovered in the air, the smooth texture of her damp body still fresh in his mind, the memory of her delicious fragrance lingering on his moist lips.

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