I gazed through the window and watched the rain-sodden landscape being battered by another squall. A blast of rain and sleet blattered on the window; unseeing now, I remembered another time when the weather seemed to be a mirror to my feelings. Only then my depression was to be lifted by my best friend Sandra. Another wave of blackness overwhelmed me and once more I felt the ice enter my soul, what had I done?

"Come on, you have to eat something."

"Why?"

"If you don't eat, you'll waste away and then who will I play badminton with?"

I smiled grimly. Our Badminton matches were legendary, neither of us were particularly good, but neither of us wanted to lose nor were either of us willing to give an inch. Points were contested as if lives depended on it; play was probably not the right word in this context, 'fought' had more of the right connotations.

"If you're not going to eat it then I'll just have to tickle you instead..."

"That's not fair!"

Sandra advanced on me fingers outstretched and wiggling, "All you have to do is eat. Look I'm a good cook, you like chilli; just eat it will you." Her smile faded and it was this, rather than her intended assault on my ticklishness, that made me take the first mouthful. Which was, of course, what she intended all along. Her face lit up with a smile to rival the sun. "Good"

Her smile was contagious and I smiled my first genuine smile and felt better.

"Thanks Sandy." Now that I had started to eat, I realised exactly how hungry I was. I couldn't remember the last time that I had eaten properly. Sandra smiled proprietarily as I started to wolf down her cooking.

"Come on, run!"

The rain that had been threatening all day finally happened and now Sandra and I were getting soaked. Laughing like maniacs we ran, hand in hand, for the shelter of a spreading Oak tree up ahead. We reached it and collapsed into each other's arms.

"Next time, perhaps, you'll listen to me and bring an umbrella."

"Next time, if you suggest an umbrella, I'll certainly listen."

"Are you doubting the word of a fair maiden, sir?"

Sandra took a step back and swooned theatrically. Which drew my attention to the fact that she was wearing a blouse that turned see-through when wet and that she wasn't wearing a bra. I stared at her with my mouth open, aware for the first time in months, of my growing erection. The lack of banter on my part alerted Sandra to the fact that my attention was elsewhere and when she realised what I was staring at she stepped towards me with a huge smile.

"At last! I was beginning to think I was losing my touch." And then she kissed me.

"Oh God, Sandra are you sure?"

"Shut up and kiss me you fool."

Always do what a lady tells you to do, is my motto and so I did. After a while my legs seemed to lose their ability to support my weight and I sank to the ground. But this was okay, as Sandra seemed to be having the same problem. Feverishly we kissed, my hands roamed over her back, Sandra was dragging my shirt off but her activities were hampered by her insistence on keeping our mouths locked together. Again we acted as one as we broke that second kiss and frantically undressed each other. As we dragged the last of our clothes off we fell together and, still synchronised, I entered her with one thrust.

"Ohhh Sandra."

Frantic now, we thrust together; too aroused for finesse and soon all too soon we screamed our release, uncaring of who might hear us. I tried to roll off her, but Sandra hugged me tight and we rolled, still joined, onto our sides. Sandra snuggled her head into my shoulder as I showered her with little kisses.

It was darker now and the rain had settled into a steady downpour. As it darkened outside the lights inside caused my reflection to become more and more visible. When it was fully dark, I stared at the face revealed to me. The rain on the window looked like tears; I lifted my hand and felt the wetness there. I don't remember how long I sat there staring. I must have slept or something, because the next thing I knew the scene before me had changed and it was morning.

The rain had stopped and watery sunlight was reflected in the puddles that dotted the pavements. I looked around me listlessly, I didn't want to be here, but the bed and breakfast in which I was staying wanted the rooms unoccupied during the day so that they could clean them. So for the next few hours I roamed the streets; I realised almost immediately that coming here was a mistake, there were too many happy couples, too many happy faces and too many memories.

I woke in her arms, the sun shone through the gap in the curtains and dust motes danced. I couldn't get the words out of my head, 'What a difference a day makes, twenty-four little hours... '. Outside I could hear birdsong and the bright sunlight was testament to the fact that the storm of yesterday had dissipated. Sandra snuggled close to me and hummed happily. I felt her hands stroking my chest and then my stomach; my anticipation grew, along with something else, as her caresses descended slowly down my body. Finally she reached her goal and I gasped.

"My, my, you are happy to see me this morning, aren't you?"

"What a difference a day makes..." I sang to her.

She smiled, "Do you know how long I've waited to hear you sing again?"

"... twenty-four little hours..." I continued, deliberately tuneless.

"Then again," she dived beneath the bedclothes and took me in her mouth. I groaned and stopped 'singing'. Spastically I pushed the sheets and blankets out of the way and she looked up at me mischievously. I groaned again as she lifted her mouth from me and she giggled as I arched my back to follow her mouth with my penis. "Don't worry I have other ideas for him." As she said this she straddled me and began to rub her sex against my dick. She leant forward and kissed me aggressively, our tongues duelled, first in my mouth and, as I grew more assertive, in hers. She broke the kiss and sat back on her heels.

"Wow. Now just lie back and 'think of England'." Gently she grasped me and holding me steady with one hand she knelt above me and lowered herself until I was resting just at her entrance. I could feel the heat pouring out of her and then I was engulfed in a veritable furnace as she sank slowly down until I was embedded fully. She groaned and collapsed forward onto me. After a while she gathered her strength and pushed up until she was, once more, sitting above me; her nipples were hard and her face and chest were flushed. It seemed that she needed a steadying hand or two so I raised my hands until I could grasp her breasts. I rolled her nipples between my fingers and thumbs and she moaned and writhed, doing wonderful things to my buried manhood.

Sandra had always considered offence to be the best defence, so she reached down and began to pinch my nipples, I gasped; it was like there was a direct connexion to my balls. I couldn't last much longer and so I began to thrust; both of us were gasping and moaning suddenly, almost without warning, I felt myself pour into her. Sandra seemed to feel it too and screamed her own release. I lowered her gently onto my chest and we rested like that for ages.

"I love you, Sandra."

"You don't have to say it, if you don't mean it."

"I do mean it, I love you."

"I love you too."

I'd reached the end of the promenade, but rather than turn back the way I had come I steeled myself and walked up to the turnstiles that marked the entrance to the pier. I paid my 50p and hoped the bored attendant wouldn't notice my tear-stained cheeks. What had I been thinking?