The rain is lashing the window panes, washing away every suggestion of dirt from them, spreading sheets of blurring water across them. The thunder of the deluge roars from the roof, echoing around the room, sounding a contralto note to the bass voicings of the thunder in the clouds.

I hold you to me tightly, at once thrilled and scared by the storm. You wrap your arms around me, and open your legs so I can snuggle between them. Storms invariably bring out the wild woman in me, and you never fail to give me what I need each time. I shiver in anticipation of the pleasure we will drown in together.

"You're shivering," you whisper in my ear, letting the warmth of your breath caress my lobe, and slip down the column of my neck. "Shall I warm you?"

I smile, hoping it is as sensual as I am feeling. "Can you?" I ask, entering into the spirit of the game. Your answering smile is knowing, teasing, and lustful all at once.

"I can do whatever you can imagine, and a whole lot more!"

Your boast tickles me, and I chuckle, a low, delighted sound, followed almost immediately by a moan of pleasure as you take my mouth in a hungry kiss. The room is silent as we taste each other, and savor the flavor of our growing passion. I can still taste a hint of the drink you had just before we repaired to bed, chasing each other like children up the stairs as the storm hit, stripping and diving beneath the blankets amidst giggles and chuckles.

"Are you as hungry as I am?" you ask me, nibbling your way down my neck, nipping and soothing my skin as you go.

A flash of lightning illumines your face as I arch under your suddenly marauding fingers, which have wound their way down to my breasts. You pinch me, enough to make the pleasure peak with a bite of pain, and I gasp, wondering, as I do every time, why I am suddenly wet and needier than I was a minute ago.

"You like that, baby?"

Not waiting for a reply, because you seem to know that I can't speak past the cotton in my throat, you tweak me again, twisting a nipple between your thumb and forefinger, making me cry out in an anguish of ecstasy. How can you make sharp pain so unbearably pleasurable? Even as the thought swirls around in my dazed brain, you lower your mouth to an aching breast and suckle me like a newborn.

"Shit, Abe!" I exclaim, and hear your chuckle as you delight in my deteriorating language.

You know I will grow increasingly loose about the lips, and dirty talk from me will fuel the lovemaking to come. You switch breasts, and I cry out again, and pull you hard into my chest, wishing you could consume me whole. The thunder rumbling overhead seems to beat in time to my racing heart as you play me like a master musician. I am trembling and losing control of my limbs, when you shift again, and I feel your mouth where your fingers have been. The warmth of your tongue, coupled with the invasion of three digits into my very core, pulls the juices from me, as well as a scream that is drowned by a loud clap of thunder overhead.