There is something so erotic about rain, even moreso thunderstorms. It’s as though the lightning travels through the air, straight into my veins. I love warm, stormy nights. Of course, they’d perfect for sleeping soundly but there’s even more electrifying things to do in bed during a thunderstorm.
I love to crack open the windows, to feel the humidity. I love the scent of rain. Precipitation on blacktop. I remember once, I had just opened the blinds, and opened the patio door in the bedroom just a bit. Thunder rolled and lightning crackled, lighting up the room briefly.
I don’t remember if we had been lying in bed, trying to sleep or what. But I do remember our kiss, my back to the window and soon our clothes were coming off, thunder playing the soundtrack to our intimacy and lightning setting the mood. I can’t remember the sex itself anymore but I remember the feeling. I remember thinking how incredibly erotic it was; I had always loved storms and the adrenaline pumping through my veins. It wasn’t long until something else was pumping in my body.
I recall another time, we walked through the pouring rain across town. I was wearing a tank top, black with lace straps and the rain weighed it down against my breasts. It had already been a little tight and I felt super sexual. We both wanted to find a place to have sex but none was to be found. We grew soaked to the bone, chilled with the rain – it was not a warm night. We stopped, huddled in a doorframe but it was no shelter and soon we made out way back home, towelled off and crawled into bed warming each other with our bodies.
