Message-ID: X-Archived-At: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: stbush@iglou.com (S THOMAS BUSH) Subject: One Rainy Morning by Tom Bombadil One Rainy Morning (Romantic Interlude) Short Story #12 by Tom Bombadil (c) Jan 1997 Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your computer. This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work of fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives. You've been warned. I give permission for anyone to archive or share this story. ******************************************************************** Diane knelt on the big, overstuffed chair, leaning over the back, resting her elbows on the window sill, holding her chin in her hands. Outside, the rain fell silently and steadily. She could still see the beach, still see the walkway and the few pedestrians foolish enough to be out in such weather, and could still see her favourite sunning spot. A sigh escaped, unnoticed, as she mourned the passing days of their vacation, time lost to the inclement weather. The noise and bustle of someone getting ready to head out into that same rain hardly penetrated her gloom, as did the voice that came from behind her. "Are you sure you don't want to come with me, dear? Denise and Sylvia promised to show us all the sights around town. They'll be quite disappointed if you don't come, you know." Several seconds of silence followed, ending with a small sigh. "No," Diane said in a flat voice. "You go ahead without me. I'd be nothing but a total drag today. You'd better hurry, or you'll be late." She continued staring out at the leaden sky, the grey sea, and the dull and lifeless beach. The mood outside was reflected in her face. A light touch, little more than fingertips, rested on her back for a second before running up to her shoulder and neck, ending with a caress of her cheek. "C'mon, Diane. You've been miserable for days. Let's go have some fun. This is a vacation, remember? So what if the sun decided to go on holidays at the same time. We can still enjoy ourselves. There has to be more on this tiny island than just one hotel and a beach." The only reply was another small sigh. Two hands began a massage of Diane's shoulders and back, kneading gently, yet firmly, into all the muscles. After a few minutes, those hands had reached her buttocks and thighs. They slowly worked the hem of her dress higher and higher, until all of the woman's panty-clad bottom was exposed, then they started shifting the black, lacy silk material down her thighs. A pair of lips joined those hands, exploring and tasting skin as it slowly became exposed. Another sigh was heard, ending with a slight catch of breath, as a warm wet tongue touched her delicate skin. Parts of her bottom and legs were soon covered in a latticework of moist coolness. The rest was warmed by those same two active hands. Yet another sigh, sounding suspiciously like a groan, came out. Diane arched her back, then spread her knees as far as her lowered panties would allow. The invitation was clear. One pair of lips and a few fingers found her moistening centre. With long practiced ease and sure knowledge they began a journey completed many times before. Diane's whimpers and quickening gasps were the signposts on the path, and her thrusting bottom and clenching thighs were the landmarks seen along the way. When those lips, that tongue, and two active fingers finally invaded, they captured one prisoner and teased it mercilessly. Faint gasps and mewling cries filled the room. Diane's panting breath reached a crescendo, then ceased altogether as her body went rigid. Ragged breathing marked the end of one peak, and several gasps, as that pair of lips and tongue continued their wonderful torture, mapped the beginning of another. Soon, all was finished, as a few final licks, cleaning up the liquid evidence, marked the end of their brief excursion. Those hands repaired their mess, pulling up the panties and pulling down the dress. All had been returned to as it was. Almost all. Warm breath and a pair of nibbling lips touched Diane's ear. Hands caressed her shoulders and upper arms. "Mmmm. You do feel nice. Is it all this rain making you so gloomy? Or is there something else?" All was silent for several more seconds. "Still not talking?" There was no answer, as Diane's eyes continued gazing out the window. They didn't seem to be focused on anything in particular. "Just remember why we're on vacation. This is, after all, our fifth Valentine's day together. Five already. It still seems like yesterday when we first met in the grocery line. I can still picture your face when that carton of milk split open and doused you from waist to toes. Remember? Hey?" Diane ignored the fingers tickling her ribs. "Such a sourpuss today. I hope you're not like this at dinner tonight. I've got something special planned. Then, later, you can open your present. You remember that thing, don't you?" Diane worked hard to control the quivering of her lips. They were threatening to break into a smile. "How silly of me. How could you forget? You've been looking at it, sitting there on the dresser, for almost two weeks. Don't think I haven't noticed your staring, because I have. Later on you get to open it. No fair peeking until then!" One set of fingertips gently traced their way along her cheek and jaw, then around her lips, setting off tingles that again almost made Diane's mouth turn up into a grin. "Are you sure you won't come with me, Diane?" There was no reply. Diane felt a pair of lips touch her cheek, sensed a body moving away, then heard the door open. There was a final "See you later," and she was alone. Diane knelt on the big, overstuffed chair, leaning over the back, resting her elbows on the window sill, holding her chin in her hands. Outside, the rain fell silently and steadily. She could still see the beach, still see the walkway and the few pedestrians foolish enough to be out in such weather, and could still see her favourite sunning spot. A sigh escaped, unnoticed, as she recalled many other such mornings over the past two weeks. This time, the sky was a little less leaden, the sea a little less grey. She could almost hear the laughter from the couples walking along the seafront boulevard, lost to sight under umbrellas of every rainbow hue. Even the beach, a patchwork of pastel creams and tans, was dotted with bits of green, brown, yellow, and grey, the detritus of the ocean breaking up the otherwise uniform colours of sand. A slight smile curled one corner of her mouth as she planned her payback for the morning's brief interlude. ******************************************************************** -- Story Submission: Moderator Contact: Newsgroup FAQ: Archive site (could be better):