Girl on the Net

How appropriate that this guest blog is due to go live this week, when the UK has been having a sweltering heatwave. I’m editing this on Tuesday but praying that by the time it goes live on Friday we’ll have had a huge thunderstorm or two to clear the muggy air. Something about the weather makes me horny – from sweaty fucking to fantasies about getting whipped on the back of my thighs with ice pops, heat is horny. And now, courtesy of this week’s guest blogger Theodore Bentley, fucking in a thunderstorm becomes sexy too…

Thunderfuck – fucking in a thunderstorm

I love the month of July. The days are long and although the weather can be sporadic, we often get an unbalanced mix of hot and wet. Perhaps it’s the hot and wet that I like: they are the key ingredients for a thunderstorm.

I love the electric charge in the air when I am caught in the middle of one. I can feel it and it excites me.

We are by the river bank. You are wearing a summer dress. Bare legs and espadrilles. You speak but I can barely hear you over the thoughts in my own head. You look … French. A mixture of pure beauty executed in simple form.

“Don’t stare,” the voice in my head says.

I try not to look at your cleavage and disguise my staring with nods to the half-heard words. Your legs are pale. It is too early for the sun to have coloured them and the thought of the contrast of your pubic hair against your skin crosses my mind. I snap back and fill the sudden empty silence as you sip from your glass. Bare toes with young fresh red nail varnish. You have that French style: simple and sexy.

We lie back and look at the sky. The blue blue sky is starting to fill with high, billowing clouds. As they pass towards us they block the sun and then I feel the telltale rush of air. That rush of air is the vortex sucking up the air and inflating the storm cloud in the sky close to us. I know it well and the brightness of our day is switched off: it’s going to piss down any second.

I scoop the picnic up into the basket and tell you that we need to leg it for cover. Across the field is a wood with large oak trees. I grab your hand and we run. I pull you slightly faster than you can run, and it excites you.

The rain starts. Not drips but proper drops. The type that bend plants like small bullets being fired out of the sky. We run together, getting soaked before we hit cover.

The first flash of lightning cracks as we get to the woods. It feels like we just escaped a chasing wolf. Safe under the tree. Soaked to the skin. Your hair clinging to your head. Your dress stuck to your hips, breasts and thighs. There is no hiding.

Your hard nipples poke from your dress, your pubic mound completely visible. Breathless and panting, we stare at each other and laugh. Another crack of lightning swiftly followed by the long rumble from the belly of the thunder beast. We exchange a look and intuition screams at me to kiss you.

I grab your shoulders and pull you swiftly towards me and my mouth. My god I got that right: you respond with the same frantic passion. Hands, mouths and bodies moving frantically towards each other. I burst your breasts from their constraints. I suck on your nipples like a starving man. Your hands on my buttocks, forcing pelvis on pelvis. Your leg lifts. My hand slides down. Your dress rises up. My hand goes down and the backs of my fingers shove your knickers halfway down your thighs.

You’re in my hands now and I take control. My hand quickly releases myself and you feel me prod you. I courteously yank your knickers down so that you can step one foot out. You push your pelvis forward. I guide myself against you and push at you. Your guiding hand lets me slide into you just as the rain intensifies.

So wet. So very fucking wet.

I pin your hands above your head and pump my body against you. I look you in the eye. It was meant to be sexy and intense, though I can’t help but smirk at what a mess you look. Hair stuck to your head. Mascara running down your cheeks. Dishevelled and available. It makes me so fucking horny seeing you like this.

Vulnerable and not perfectly sexy: it’s more sexy. I fuck you intensely, as hard as I can, like I want to hurt you by nailing you to the tree.

Every crack of lightning energises my body. Every thunder clap makes me fuck you harder. Your legs now round my waist, held against the tree by my pinning hands and my nailing cock. You gulp for breath as I slam the air from your body. My other hand goes over your mouth. Your pupils dilate and I watch you gasp when I release you.

The thunder rumbles on and so do I, banging you to make your storm break.

I want it wet. I want it flooding and with a lightning bolt flash I break you. You gorgeous beautiful sexy woman.

You broke me too.