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From: Sven the Elder <sven_the_elder@ntlworld.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} [rom fest] Romance Classics - 'Summer Rain' Sven the Elder
Date: Sat, 22 Jun 2002 03:10:05 -0400
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The tale *behind* Summer Rain.

I had been helping a friend run his business in a town that
straddles the River Thames in Oxfordshire, UK.  That's right -
the river that ends up flowing through London. He needed someone
to help 'turn the hire-boats round' on busy days and having
nothing better to do that summer I was volunteered. As a
confirmed water rat who grew up on a waterway I was in heaven -
boats *and* beer money - bliss.

One particular day a younger couple took out one of the day
launches - I watched quite enviously as a picnic, complete with
wine and fit to beat the glorious one described by the Water Rat
in Kenneth Grahams Wind in the Willows, was loaded aboard.

They came back rather later in the day, early evening almost, and
were quite obviously sated by the effects of sun, sex, food, sex,
the boat, sex, being on the water - oh and probably a bit of sex
as well.  They tied up along side the jetty and the boat reeked
of a mixture of pussy and sex. He hopped out and went off to get
their car, she looked slightly embarrassed and could hardly walk
- she had cum stains on her legs, had lost her bra somewhere -
nice tits there lady - and really didn't want any help from me

So I went away and busied myself discreetly elsewhere - after
they'd gone I hosed the boat down, inside and out and was sat in
the sternsheets watching a rowing eight shoot the bridge when a
flight of Canada geese flew down the river and over the bridge.
A little while later I went home and wrote this piece in a
remarkably short space of time....

Sven


Summer Rain (C)Sven the Elder Sept '98

===========================================================

This story contains words of a sexual nature and should not be
read by juveniles. If this means you, go away and read something
else; you shouldn't be here anyway.  This is a work of fiction
and in no way portrays real life - if you can't hack that, go lie
down in a dark room; the bad feelings will go away.

===========================================================

This work is copyright by the author.  You may download and keep
one copy for your personal use as long as the author's byline and
e-mail address and these paragraphs remain on the copy. Any
posting on a website or to a newsgroup requires the previous
permission of the author

===========================================================


Dedicated with much love and affection to a special person.

The skein of geese swept low down the river, wild honking as they
talked amongst themselves - the leader too busy piloting to chat.
Eying the bridge ahead he swept majestically upwards and took the
group up, over and then swooping down the other side and out of
sight. Distant splashing told the tale of their arrival further
downstream. Shortly they would wade ashore and start grazing as
they fed in the warmth of the late afternoon.

The sounds of the river generally, were muted in the shimmering
temperature of the end of the hot summer's day.  The heat was
oppressive and the towering clouds nearby spoke of a thunderstorm
before long.

 From the reeds, close by where the boat was nosed in, came the
gentle cluck of a moorhen, still protectively watching her
chicks, even though the second, late brood were now almost fully
grown.

A gust of wind from the gathering storm rustled the reeds, the
gentle noise breaking the quiet.  The fisherman sitting in the
stern, glanced at the clouds, sighed inwardly and started to
gather his lines in. Finally, all done and tidied away he pulled
in the keep-net and released the meagre catch back to freedom.

The watching woman, looking at the dark clouds sweeping in, said,
"I think we should just secure things and stay here to ride it
out."

A quiet man, he nodded his agreement, and went forward to set out
the hitherto unused anchor.  Swinging it briefly, he threw it
towards the shallows, waited as it sank, and then, putting his
weight against it, made sure it was gripping and tied the end
fast on the foredeck.  He came back along the side deck of the
day-boat, unfurling the canvas top to the  cabin and springing the
bungee cords into place along the sides so that the impending
weather would be kept at bay.  As he returned to the after part
of the boat, a gust  again stirred the reeds.  This time the wind
was heavily laden with the smell of rain.

A scant few seconds later the promise was fulfilled as the first
heavy drops splattered down in desultory fashion.  He ducked
quickly under cover as the storm broke with a raking flash of
lightning and its accompanying growling roar of thunder.

The noise of the rain and intermittent thunder on the awning top
made speech next to impossible.  The man gazed at the curtain of
water, visibility down to no more than a few yards.  She glanced
up occasionally, otherwise staying immersed in the book she was
reading.

Eventually as the dusky gloom of the storm closed in she gave up
the struggle.   With no lights in the cabin and now only the
flashes of lightening to illuminate  the page the effort was to
much.  Bored she studied the profile of the man  opposite as he
half dozed in the gloom.

The face was rugged and lean, the neck powerful.  His hair was
flecked with grey, the beard grey, almost white.  Had she been
able to see them the eyes were a deep ice blue.  They gave him a
piercing look, making his face seem stern, but kind, with
laughter lines to soften the cragginess.

She leaned forward beside his head and stroked the side of his
cheek with the back of one hand, "Penny for them?"

Without opening his eyes he laughed gently, softly almost
inaudibly in noise of the drumming rain, then said.  "Not a lot
really, the old days I suppose.  The madness of  youth."

She giggled a little "Do you remember, all that time ago, dancing
in the storm, in the rain - it was like a pagan ritual, made me
feel so alive."

Abruptly she stood up, half stooping under the rain drummed
awning. Easily she slipped the light top off and threw it gently
on the seat. The followed it quickly with the tracksuit bottom
she had been wearing, skimming her knickers off at the same time.
 As she slipped them off she eased her deck shoes off as well.
In a slightly awkward, self conscious movement she brushed her
hair back out of her eyes. Still stooped and with her slight
breasts suddenly pendulous, full and swaying to her movement she
eased gently past him and stood in the open awning door.  The
skin of her front already glistened from the spray of the rain
and her own perspiration in the humidity of the storm.

She stepped out through the door and straightened up in the
downpour that was still going on, even though the eye of the
thunderstorm seemed to have moved off upstream.  Holding her head
up and back she opened her mouth wide to trap some of the water
now coursing down her naked body. Her arms momentarily outspread
she pirouetted and dipped her dance to the rain gods.  Beads of
water ran down her bobbing breasts, ran in rivulets down to meet
at the junction of her naked thighs and then on down into the
wiry fur of her sex.

She keened an ancient chant now, still dancing but directing her
movements towards the man, who smiled  gently to the woman.  It
was a wistful smile of times gone by.  Then, caught up in the
magic of the movement, he too disrobed and slowly, almost shyly,
joined his lady in that pagan dance of love.  The pair -
oblivious to the rain coursing down - danced, then clinched, as
he kissed her neck and face, trying to kiss away the water.

He dropped his face to her breasts and kissed the drops from
their slope, before nibbling gently at her erect nipples.  She,
her eyes closed and her head still tilted back moaned, the sound
lost in the noise of the storm, her hands now cradling her lovers
head, pulling him to her breasts.  Her dance now stilled she held
him still as he moved his head down across her stomach, his lips
making her shiver in spite of the summer warmth, as he brushed
her navel and then the top of the light thatch of fur at the
confluence of her thighs. Gasping as he, now kneeling, held the
sweet roundness of her rear and pulled her to him, nibbling at
the very centre of her being. He darted his tongue across the top
of her slit, feeling the pebble of her sensitive spot and feeling
her intake of breath as did so.  Then he pierced her with his
tongue, tasting the rain diluted juices of her arousal.  He held
her to his lips as he felt her knees start to buckle as the
sensations became too much and almost overwhelmed her.

He held her to him as she slid down to sit on his knees as he
knelt before her, now kissing his way back to her breasts and
then finally to her neck and mouth.  Totally aroused now to
savage proportions she attacked him back, pushing him to the
deck.  Straddling his legs she bit him hard on the neck, leaving
a purple bruise that rapidly deepened in colour as she paused to
laugh a deep throaty chuckle and enjoy her handiwork.  Then she
kissed his neck again. more gently this time, lulling his senses
before swooping on one of his wet, erect nipples and biting it
gently.

Sitting now on his upper thighs she raked her fingernails, none
to gently, down across his chest, leaving red lines that met in
the wiry grey hair of his loins.   Without pausing she cupped his
straining penis in her finger tips as she slowly ran them up his
length, dipping her head so that as her fingers reached the
corona of the head, so her lips touched and kissed the very tip.

He gasped, his back arching at the sensation, trying to move with
her and make her take more of him into her, but she laughed
again, a long low laugh as she teased him, running the cleft of
her sex down the sharpness of his shin bone, arching her back in
the pleasure of the sensation as she did so.  Then she swooped on
him again and took  his length between her pursed lips.  Aware of
his distant gasp as the blood thundering in her ears she bobbed
her lips round the sensitive head.

Again rubbing her own sex against his legs she moved up and,
deciding the time was ripe, positioned her self over him before
plunging down to take his whole length inside her in one
movement. They paused for a heartbeat before they thrust and
moved against each other, both so aroused that the ensuing climax
came crashing quickly like the thunder still rumbling in the
background.

They held their arched position, fixed in the strobe effect of
the still flashing lightning, each straining against the other
for maximum penetration.  Then slowly she subsided, collapsing,
to lay her breast on his, her head along side his - cheeks
touching.  Each breathing in unison, hearing the hammer of the
others heartbeat as they held on tightly; laying in the now
slackening rain.  She sighed gently as she felt him shrivel and
slip from her now tenuous grasp, kissed him and smoothed the hair
back from his rain slicked forehead.

She shivered slightly as the summer rain continued to fall, and
then as if returning to the full awareness of their surroundings
they stirred and she raised herself up and helped him to his
feet.  She held his hand as they ducked back under the shelter of
the awning roof.  He rummaged in a bag and produced a towel.
Lovingly he dried her, occasionally pausing to kiss her shoulder,
or the edge of a breast, or anything else near to him.  He
kneeled as he dried her legs and then paid homage to the centre
of their recent pleasure, drying her carefully and then planting
a kiss, that made her gasp in her still sensitive state.  She in
turn returned the favour drying him lovingly. Then, as the rain
outside the cabin began to thin and finally stop, they slowly
dressed.

##############

Some time later they sat silently in the sternsheets of the boat,
holding hands in the normal gathering dusk of evening.  No words
passed between them, no words had been or were necessary to
express their love.  The love of years of togetherness needs no
words of expression.  Just a touch, or a look, or even a mutual
thought shared by intuition to confirm that place, deep in the
others heart.

(C) Sven the Elder September '98

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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