Inspired by the Rain

I curse my stupidity as I step off the train. I’d heard the weather forecast that morning; there is no excuse for not bringing a jacket or an umbrella. As if to mock me, the oppressive heat of the last three days has disappeared, replaced by an autumn-like coolness and a stiff breeze that blows right through my little purple sundress. I’d have driven today, but you have borrowed my car for an out of town trip. And so I am faced with a walk of nearly a mile in a torrential downpour.

I take no advantage of the relative shelter offered to me by the trees or the awnings, but walk on under the open sky – my punishment for my lack of planning. The rain beats down on me like a thousand tiny fists. The puddles are too big to jump over, my feet in their tiny sandals sink into them up to my ankles. Gusts of wind make me shiver and blow my dress even tighter against my body where it clings to me as a second skin.

As I walk, I find myself thinking of what you might say if you saw me like this, drenched to the core as a result of my usual flightiness about practical matters. I know it drives you crazy. I imagine your face as I walk through the door, my dress obscenely molded to my flesh, my erect nipples straining against the thin material. “Typical,” you say, “just typical. Never prepared for the weather, and now look at you. Look you’re dripping a puddle on the floor.”

“I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “You are a dripping wet mess. You’re going to have to learn to start planning ahead.” You walk to the closet and get my umbrella and a jacket, then grab me by the back of my arm and steer me into the bedroom. You toss me facedown on the bed. I feel you push my dress to my waist and peel off my soaked through panties.

I gasp the first time you bring the umbrella down on my ass. My bare skin stings from the blow, the wetness and the cold heightening the pain. CRACK! Again, and I feel the sting of each metal rod punishing my behind. On the third blow I open my mouth to scream, but you cram the jacket into it and silence my cries. I bite down on it as your umbrella blows rain down on me, harder now and faster, each one steadily increasing the pleasure and pain.

When you drop the umbrella and drag me off the bed onto the floor I am breathless and weak. But I will get no respite as you sit on the edge of the bed, pull the jacket from my mouth and replace it with your hard cock. Your hands grip the sides of my wet head and pull me down onto you. I try to keep from gagging as you force your entire cock down my throat. Tears run from my eyes as you ravage my mouth. I can feel the rain dripping off my ponytail, running cold down my back and into the cleft of my ass, in sharp contrast to the hot tears streaming down the side of my face. I am fighting for my breath now, struggling against panic as you grind my face into your pelvic bone, pummeling the back of my throat with your enormous erection.

Just as I think I can’t take any more you pull your cock out of my mouth, pushing my head back and holding me there as you empty your balls onto my face. Your cum mixes with my tears and the rainwater and the wet strands of hair that are stuck to my cheeks. You relax your grip on my head and I hear you say, “Perhaps next time you’ll take an umbrella,” as I collapse in a heap on the floor, soaked with rain and with your cum, my cold, wet dress still clinging uncomfortably to my skin.

The images stay with me as I reach my empty apartment, peel my wet clothes off and step into a hot bath. You see, my darling? Even the rain reminds me of you.