Read Coming Together: Special Hurricane Relief Edition Online
Authors: Alessia Brio
Tags: #Anthology, #Erotic Fiction, #Poetry
Valerie
shuddered and nodded. She swallowed nervously as she agreed with Pat.
"Uh huh," she murmured, "they're wet. And cold."
"That's
not why. You're wet, but you're not cold at all. Tell me what you're
like."
She
bit her lip, her eyes closing for a moment while she thought. They
remained shut while she softly answered, "I'm just me. Friends
have told me I'm charming, but I don't know exactly what they mean.
Ben thinks I've changed from who I was when we got together, but I
think I'm still who I've always been. At heart, anyways."
Pat
slowly began to rotate his hands. He breathed hotly against Valerie's
neck while the motion caused her to rub her palms in small circles
against her nipples. "Of course," he said.
"I'm
a very sensual and passionate person, and very frisky when given the
opportunity," Valerie added, her words coming a bit slowly as
she tried to speak without moaning or catching her breath.
Pat
dropped his hands from Valerie's wrists to her hips and drew her body
up against his own. He nuzzled her neck while caressing her body and
the front of her thighs, and whispered in her ear, "Is that
knocking I hear?"
Valerie
sighed and leaned back against Pat. He could feel that her sleep
shirt had rolled up slightly; a quick glance down confirmed that she
wasn't wearing panties. There may have been a thong, but Pat wasn't
sure...yet. Valerie's voice was feather soft. "Sometimes, I just
can't help it. I've always been that way, but he is so, well, NOT,
that I've always kept things toned down for his sake. I was his first
serious girlfriend, and it freaks him out to see me flirt with
people." "So why do you?" Pat asked as he slowly
ground himself against Valerie's exposed ass. "He just doesn't
respond too well to my advances, especially these days. I thought I
could deal with things on my own, but I needed the contact other
people gave me. Even anonymous, faceless people online worked. It was
a chance for me to let it all out, so to speak." She bit her lip
and rotated her ass against Pat, letting air seep into her lungs and
back out again.
His
fingers crept beneath the sleep shirt, and Pat realized Valerie
wasn't wearing even a pair thong panties. "Step forward. I want
you to feel something."
Valerie
stepped forward. The mist blowing off the edge of the downpour was
suddenly eclipsed by actual rain cascading down upon her and Pat.
Within moments, they were both soaked. She sighed, arching her back
and letting her hands fall away from her chest to spread her arms
wide and take in the storm's energy.
"Mmm,"
she said beneath her breath as she stepped further into the torrents,
moving away from Pat to turn and regard him. He smiled and gave her a
look that echoed the hunger she hadn't realized she'd had. She rushed
to him and threw her arms about him.
Pat
caught Valerie's body as she lunged at him. He embraced her in the
same wild manner and sought out her mouth. They kissed frantically,
like neither had kissed anyone for weeks. Lips and tongues and open
mouths met without need of introduction, while hands caressed bodies
and began undressing them.
They
sank into the muddy backyard. Pat eased Valerie onto her back and
positioned himself between her spread thighs. His cock nudged her as
he leaned in close to move his kisses from her face along her throat
and then down to meet the breasts his hands lifted in their palms. He
swirled his tongue around an erect nipple and then closed his teeth
upon its hard, pink flesh.
Valerie
moaned and raised her hips, trying to get more than just the barest
part of the tip of Pat's cock inside her. "God, just do it,"
she said to him in a soft voice that dripped with urgency.
"Do
what?" Pat asked; his own words as audible a tease as his
rubbing head was a physical one.
"Mmm...fuck
me. I...god, just fuck me, damn it! I can't stand it any more!"
Valerie screamed up at Pat as her hands hooked themselves in the
crook formed by his bent elbows and pulled his body forward and down
upon her. They both moaned as the movement sank his cock almost
entirely inside Valerie's waiting pussy.
"Yes!
Give it to me, Pat!"
Pat
tried to respond, but the sudden aggressiveness and passion from meek
and mild Valerie had surprised him and left him groping for words. He
buried his face in her neck and kissed her skin while his hips rocked
the two of them back and forth on the muddy patch of backyard by the
clothesline. Pat groaned and sighed as he pumped his cock in and out
of his neighbor. Amazed and, perhaps just a bit, fearful of the
powerful passion awakened by the mix of wind, rain, and his own
nudging, Pat knew there was more going on here besides simply a woman
denied...and denying...the release she needed.
"Oh,
Val... mmm..." Pat gasped in her ear. "Oh... what was... oh
yeah..."
While
Pat kissed and bit at her neck and shoulder, Valerie slid her arms
around him. Tilting their bodies, she made Pat look at her and kissed
him once more. He began to move back and forth between the little
niche he'd found and her soft mouth and playful tongue. Whenever they
broke from a kiss, Valerie would continue to fill Pat's ear with a
heavy string of encouraging smut, while her pussy clutched and
gripped him in a similar... although different... sort of
encouragement.
And
the storm continued to fall upon their bodies. Its steady rain pelted
their flesh and drove both of them into a frenzy.
~
~ ~ ~
Riding
the Rain
©
Duel Citizen
MICHELLE
'I'd
give anything for summer,' I recall muttering under my trembling
breath. My nose was practically freezing with every intake of air. My
body was stiff, and my cold, white hands were shoved in the pockets
of my mid thigh, black leather coat. No gloves, no hat, no scarf,
just a fashionable red turtleneck, and jeans. I was in University
after all, and had an appearance to keep-up.
I
teetered back and forth on my heels, and as I glanced over to the
nerd in the lime parka, salivating at the warmth of his (or her)
oversized mittens, the wooly pink scarf and faux fur lining, I
convinced myself that I was better off, even if I was practically
frozen to death.
Finally,
the bus pulled up to the outdoor platform. The big metal monstrosity,
bearing a red and white logo, and with the local newspaper advertised
prominently below the windows, shuddered to a pulling halt, and threw
a hot puff of exhaust in my direction. I winced, as the diesel raced
into my lungs and I contorted my face in disgust.
I
heard a bellow of laughter and turned around, abruptly. I hadn't
expected 'him'.
I
had noticed him at the clubs. He was the kind of guy I couldn't help
but notice even if I were a bit drunk when I did. I had seen him at
Gord's on Wednesdays, Midnight Club on Thursday's, Jerry's Alley on
Fridays and The Mansion on Saturday's, but we were in different
crowds.
Of
course, I didn't know which crowd he was in exactly, but he wasn't in
'the art crowd'. He didn't hang in the green room of the theatre
department, the cinema of the film department, or the studio in the
fine arts wing. In fact, I don't think I had seen him in that wing of
the school at all, and yet I had seen him at school. Possibly in the
cafeteria, or maybe in one of the larger classes I was taking.
Psychology or geology, perhaps.
He
smiled at me. He was gorgeous. I could practically feel his eyes burn
a permanent place in my heart.
The
bus doors swung open.
"Ladies
first," his voice was deep and lyrical, and his smile lustrous.
I could have warmed myself on his smile alone.
He
swept his hand in front of him as if laying out a path, and I said
thank you as I climbed the steps and walked to the back of the bus.
He followed. I sat in the back corner, and he sat on the opposite
side of the bus, on the bench stretching at least six feet
lengthwise, facing me.
We
sat there. We sat glancing at each other every once in a while, our
eyes meeting briefly with a smile. He was cool, with straight sandy
hair, all one length, falling across his eyes, his blue eyes, and
almost reaching his shoulder. He was wearing a tan suede jacket, with
a cameo-colored lining, brown leather gloves, and a pair of jeans.
It's funny that I can remember all these details, but I don't
remember his shoes. Not that his shoes are important or anything, I'm
just surprised I missed that detail.
The
ride to the University was fifteen minutes, and we sat there for the
duration, which seemed an eternity.
I
looked at him occasionally when his head was turned. I looked
intently at his slightly bristled face, his strong red lips, and his
clear skin. When he first sat down, his cheeks were rosy from the
cold, and he sniffled a bit, but the warmth of the bus returned his
skin to a natural, warm flesh color. He was tall. I loved that he was
tall. I am tall, well, not an Amazon or anything, but 5'11 with my
heels, and I always wear heels, so generally most of the guys I date
are slightly shorter, or about the same height.
We
sat there. We just sat there, and when our eyes met, words almost
left my mouth, but instead recoiled into a smile, which he returned.
I
am sure he saw me staring, just as I caught him staring at me every
once in a while. On the other hand, maybe he wasn't staring... He may
have just been looking out the window to the snow blistering against
the bus. I wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say to
him. I was a bit nervous, really. Well, more than a bit nervous,
which was unusual for me.
I
had never had trouble speaking to anyone before, and yet, as my heart
pumped out of my chest and my pulse practically ran out of my skin, I
couldn't think of a thing.
Of
course, I remember trying to think of something to say, but
everything that I came up with seemed silly. Maybe I was thinking too
much about it beforehand. I wanted to know his name, to find out if
he was interested, but 'I've seen you at the clubs' seemed a bit
slutty, 'What's your major,' a bit on the nerdish side, and 'God,
don't you hate winter,' a bit whiney. No, I kept my mouth shut for
that whole ride, for each painfully long streetlight to change, for
every slow motion corner that the bus turned, I stayed quiet
contemplating something to say, anything to say, and yet I couldn't
just say 'anything'.
We
arrived at school, and cordially smiled as we rose from our seats.
Again, he was a gentleman, and let me pass first, and when we exited
to the main entrance of the school tower; we both hesitated, and
looked at each other. I could feel the tension, the wanting to say
something that neither of us seemed to be able to speak.
None
of that matters now.
It's
April. Final exams are over, and we met through a friend at a party
on Saturday night.
He
asked me out!
PETER
I
still remember, in the same manner you remember all events in your
life when you know deep down that you had an opportunity but failed
to make the most of the moment, the first time I really 'met' her.
It
was outdoors, and it was cold that day. That odd time of the year
when you're never sure how cold it will be, but I was still surprised
to see her in such a thin, even if stylish, jacket. Most of the girls
walking the campus that day were dressed in parkas, which, looking
back, made her stand out even more. Still, she looked cold, and I
watched as she exhaled and her warm breath hung as frozen mist in the
air, waiting for the bus to arrive. As it pulled up to our stop, a
blast of exhaust kicked out at her, and she turned her head and
coughed in response. I couldn't help but chuckle.
She
glared at me, and I promptly averted my eyes. I don't know why I did
that. I've never been uncomfortable with returning someone's gaze,
but for some reason, she made me nervous, jittery, and I didn't want
her to think I'd been laughing at her misfortune. Of course, it was
painfully obvious that I had been. I looked back at her and smiled.
Our eyes locked. She smiled back.
God,
she was beautiful.
I
didn't know what to say, or do, as the bus doors swung open.
"Ladies
first," I said, as I stood aside to let her in. That was lame.
She smiled and thanked me as she entered the bus. I decided to follow
her in and try to continue the conversation. Now that I had a chance,
I didn't want to lose it. Of course, she went and sat way in the back
of the bus. I sat across from her, smiled again, and my mind raced
trying to think of something interesting to say.