Sex In The Rain
Abril shivered from the rain streaming from her shoulders to her breast. The water hung like teardrops from the end of her nipple. She trembled more from the lips sucking fire from her core to and through her other nub. She reveled in the pleasure that plowed her open to further exploration. The intensity of passion caused her to pull Eric from one nipple to the other. While he feasted on her flesh, she closed herself off to the sound of the rain falling on the rainforest canopy high above, the cool droplets dripping on her head and shoulders, the twittering of birds, and the buzzing of insects to enjoy the tsunami of readiness flooding her.
It was too much--too much. She pushed him away, unrolled her poncho, laid it on the leave strewn floor, removed her shorts, dropped to the fabric, and spread her legs wide, waiting. She watched him remove his cloths, unfold his raincoat, pull it over them, and crawl between her legs. She anticipated the head of his cock separating her vulva lips and was pleased at his size. With her hands on his hips, she urged him forward, gasped as her vaginal walls split apart, first thinking it too big, but feeling fulfilled when he was encased.
“Lassie that was too ea . . .”
She stopped him with her lips over his; her tongue searching for his tonsils and holding him tight against her breasts. He began to move within her; she thrilled as his cock stimulated every inch of her cavity. She moved with him increasing her arousal. Fearful he would cum to soon; she pushed him upright and used her hand on her clitoris. She watched the changing contortions of his ordinary face as he concentrated on his pleasure. Her expert finger caused a wonderful warm feeling to radiate from her clit to her brain and back again. She approached the edge of orgasm; pulled him to her, lifted her pelvis, placed her legs around his calves, and with her hands on his hips caused him to move. His strokes became longer and faster and harder. She delighted as his cock engorged and became more rigid. With her eyes closed, she felt increasing intensity sweeping over her until with one last plunge he released his semen; she exploded in ecstasy. Their spasms continued unabated until his weight, and the heat and humidity of the poncho became unbearable. The rain had stopped and the sun was shining.
* * * * *
Eric was a guest at the Tree Top Ecotourism Resort 100 miles north of Manaus on the banks of the Rio Negro River. Abril was a college trained biologist from Buenos Aires who served as a guide. He was a middle-aged, self-made millionaire from England looking to invest in tourism enterprises. She was a 24-year old environmentalist trying to save the rainforest. He was a stout, over-weight, ordinary looking, former, rugby player. She was a tall, slender, shapely, and attractive but not beautiful Brazilian female. He was gregarious, swapping jokes with all the men and flirting with their wives. She was a personable, quiet, hard working, intelligent, and competent tour guide.
During his week at the resort, their interaction was limited to that of host and guest. On this particular hot and humid day, he was the only visitor who wanted to visit the site of an historic Swidden site. It was unusual for a guide to take only one guest on a trek into the rainforest, but he had insisted and requested Abril to serve as his guide.
They left soon after lunch prepared, with umbrellas and ponchos, for the expected afternoon convectional rainfall. She led along a narrow overgrown trail. Her short-clad, fiddle-back shape was appealing to a man who had never met a woman he didn’t like. As expected within an hour the skies darkened and rain began to fall. They took cover from the torrential rain at the base of a Babassu palm. The rain and shade of the tree reduced the temperature and Abril became cold. Eric placed his arm around her shoulders to keep her warm and protect her from the tree-filtered rain drops. Their touch and odors were intoxicating and soon they were kissing, at first timidly but then with passion. Within a short time, she was sitting on a fallen Pataua with her blouse around her waist.
* * * * *
They lay side by side in the afterglow of mutual satisfaction.
“Abril, I never thought . . .”
“It’s okay Eric, I wanted that, I needed that, I wanted you to . . .”
“I had a feeling but I never . . .”
“Me too and you’re not my type.”
“What type am I?” he asked looking at her as never before.
“You’re too old, too fat, too talkative.”
“Then why . . .”
“Because you’re funny, charming, and gracious; and because I felt something for you. I don’t know what it was but you had – have an effect on me,” she said as she fingered his flaccid penis.
“You’re not my type either: too skinny, too flat chested, and too quiet; but I wanted to be alone with you,” he said as he felt himself becoming aroused and his hands sought her nipples.
Kissing him, she thrilled at his rapid response and the rising flesh in her hand. Twisting, her lips sought his erection and she covered his face with her pubis. She licked and sucked his erection and experienced the excitement of his tongue enticing her clitoris. Aflame with excitement, she twisted again and mounted his cock. She became lost among the sensations of electric-like shocks that coursed between them. Her head flung back, arms outstretched, her body bounding on his horn of plenty like a vaquero on the Pampas Plain; she experienced his cock inflaming her soul. She didn’t notice the fading sun or the falling rain.