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RAIN

by Zane Rivera

I am waiting for you. It is almost dark and I have lit candles, small sunsets glowing in my livingroom. Rain is pouring down, the whole world is slick, drenched and warm outside, humid-smelling and muffled. I have been waiting so long to see you, I worry that something is wrong, I am wild to see you, to feel your flesh and caresses...

I hear your motorcycle and am out the door as you come up the walk. I cannot wait to kiss you. You are soaking wet, the rain has made you cool, the inside of your mouth warm to my lips and tongue. We pull each other close. I am getting wetter, you hold me tighter as you kiss me, arm wrapped at my waist, fingers of the other hand entangled in my hair, tilting my face up to your mouth's caress. I want to be drawn into you. We kiss passionately as the neighbors may or may not watch. You lift me off my feet, I wrap my legs tight around your waist, sitting in your arms, your hands supporting my thighs and I am finally almost closer to you, your breath becoming heavy.

Entwined like this you carry me up to the porch, inside. It is almost completely dark. The air is still and no other sounds penetrate the rain pelting the roof, the windows, the leaves, the grass, the trees. You lower me to a corner of the couch and kneel on the floor. You kiss my face, your hands running along my brow, stroking the shape of my cheekbones, thumbs rubbing the rain into my lips. I feel the strength of your back under your soaked shirt. I pull it up, over your head -- I have to touch your slick flesh, slightly cool, you have been so long in the rain. In the candlelight, under my hands, your skin is like living gold, the rain dripping from your hair onto my face, into my mouth, is like liquid silver. I drink from you, I am rich from your weight upon me, feeling your heart expand with every breath, feeling like I can't breathe quickly enough. I'll drown in your beauty and kisses turning greedy, sucking the rain from my neck.

You unbutton the top of my dress and we are both half naked, hot beneath the first layer of chilled flesh. My nipples are very hard, very small red unripe fruit you pluck tenderly first with your hands, then mouth, then tongue. I can feel the length of your body between my legs. You stroke my arms, shoulders, collarbone, breasts, waist. You raise up to watch me watching your fingers unbutton the last fastenings of my dress and I am laid bare before you, gleaming slightly in the candlelight, loving that your gaze is transfixed, eager to drink in every part, not touching me so that your view is complete.

My wet hair sprawls over the pillow, curling in unintelligible strokes along my neck and shoulders. You begin to caress me again, in long motions from the top of my head to my knees, along my sides from my palms along the underside of my arms to my breasts, navel...you stop short of where I am aching for your touch, wet from an inner storm. You are pleased by my desire, your fingertips run along my inner thighs, brushing so close, your teasing turns my languor to impatience. I am missing the weight of you on me, the muscles of your arms, back, ass under my hands. I want to touch you as you are touching me, naked, open, wet hair tangled in my hands, pulling your head back, exposing your strong lovely neck to my kisses. You know this, but still you tease me, pushing my hands away from your flesh. I can think of nothing but having you, completely, inside me.

I stop your hands with mine, draw you close, undress you to feel your own eagerness pressing against me, pulsing and hard, searching blind against my stomach and thighs. I must feel it, guide you, but now your hands hold mine away, palms pressed together, your future hard against my unforeseeable future, feeling suddenly that our bodies have no flesh, no appendages, but are summed up in our palms, our mouths, our sexes searching for each other. You find me in one stroke, in one motion you are deep inside me, a hot brand of fire melting my inner flesh around you and I cry out, for this is the moment I have waited for, waiting for you, the intense pleasure of you moving inside me, never wanting to leave this place where you rise over me in protection while I have opened to you what is most vulnerable and yet contain you. I am strung electrified between these two poles of safety and danger, hidden and most open. I feel I cannot take in enough breath, and I hear you breathing too, the expanse of your ribs a sign of life beneath my fingers, your chest heaving above mine.

I hear the thunder breathing outside, the torrent coming down in desperate gasps trying to get in and rain down upon us, douse our sweet passion again as we move together, press together, kiss whatever flesh passes by our lips: your shoulder, my ear, your nipple, my temple. I cannot touch you enough, I don't have enough flesh to gather you as you are gathering me, closer in your arms, your hips faster, your thighs stronger, your breath and my breath...our skin damp now with sweat, our stomachs slick with rain from our own bodies and I begin to shake like thunder as you tremble with your stroke of lightning shooting inside me a storm I want no shelter from. We are together, our wetness mixed, tears mingling, crushing our flesh so tight together no cloud could slip between us.

It is dark around us and the rain slows with our breathing.