His fingers tracing up and down my spine like a light rain flowing over my skin.
The gentle whoosh of his breath in my ear.
The twinkle in his eyes
So like the sky.
If he is the sky, I am the earth, and I am desperate to be flooded.
The weight of his body on top of me feels like the heaviness of clouds before a storm
The lightning running across our skin
As he explores the earth while I stargaze.
The teasing.
The buildup of atmospheric pressure as the moment of anticipation grows.
His fingers reach down and the feeling of his fingertip brushing my clit
Gently
So gently
Like a breeze, building to a gust, building to a strong wind.
I wonder if, when the earth trembles, she is quaking from pleasure?
When she opens herself up, I wonder if it’s for the same reason I am opening my legs to my own night sky.
Finally, the breaking of the tension is announced by the rumbling of thunder as he growls
“You want to be filled with Daddy’s cock, don’t you?”
I wonder if
When the crashing of an earthquake echoes through the mountains
When the earth loses control of herself
When the rivers rush and the boulders fall
Maybe that’s how she screams
“Yes”
And I let the storm overpower me.