Rain does this to me. Gets me stimulated, aroused beyond belief. If there are thunderstorms involved, damn, I’m done for. It beacons me to come just a little closer. Inexplicably, I feel the need to step right under it, be it a drizzle or a downpour. I immensely relish the stormy winds, the flashing thunder, the dark clouds covering the sky, as if all of it wishes to envelope me in it embrace. It’s a moment of nothingness, like you don’t even exist. It reiterates the sentiment that in this vast universe, you are but just a small speck. It seems as if there is no past, no future, no worries, no thoughts even, just the rainwater that drowns you, but almost.
It feels as a moment frozen in time. Not so different from some memories that stick around, as if you could just close your eyes and re-live it at an instance.
Almost a decade back, there was one such incident, memory of which is crystal clear, even today. It was my first crush, my first exploration of pleasures and pains of this lifestyle.
Him and I, we both loved rain. More often than not in monsoon season, we would bring the air mattress up to his terrace and lie under the shade, a few meters away from the direct rain, admiring the view. Of course, I, the insatiable one, would always think up some or other form of suffering for him. It would make it even better that the rain would work as a curtain, covering us from the eyes of strangers from other buildings around. The raindrops would drench us as the winds shift, and that would act as a fuel to the ever burning fire.
That evening, just as the dusk was giving way to darkness, we were at our favourite spot on the terrace again. His back was already covered in bruises due to my earlier assault with my leather belt. Each movement he made while setting up the air mattress was making him wince. I silently watched him, being turned on by his painful movements.
He looked up at me as he finished, almost aware that I was staring at him. He stepped closer and pulled off his tee-shirt, knowing all so well my love for feeling his welts as we hungrily made out. His fingers were fumbling with my shirt buttons when I abruptly stopped him.
He looked at me curiously, speculating what tortures I had on my mind right then. His face was glowing, flushed with anticipation, longing, and terror of equal measures.
I whispered, “Stand up and take a few steps back.”
He smiled, it was an easy task, and he knew how I loved looking at his sexy physique. He got up, doing a gentle 360 degrees turn, showing off his purple bruises proudly while at it. He took a few steps back and stood at the edge of the mattress, not willing to go too far.
I was watching him, my mouth forming a slight smile. I asked him to take few more steps backwards.
He complied instantly. He was only a step away from open terrace where it was raining heavy. There was a slight shiver that I caught in him, which he tried to hide. His back was being drenched in water, yet he was still not fully under the force of the nature.
After a moment of quiet I got up and stood in front of him, two steps away.
Time stood still as our eyes locked in a fervent battle of wills. He knew what was coming. He knew what it was doing to me.
With thoughtful precision I spoke, “Two more steps”
He closed his eyes for an instant, savouring my words, knowing they were the source of all his miseries in that moment.
And then, he obeyed. Deliberately took those two steps, his body now being battered by the relentless cold rain. Another tremor ran down his spine, visibly. The thunderstorm was heavy and we were at the height of a fifth floor. He was trembling, wanting to fold his arms to get whatever warmth he can, but the look in my eyes said otherwise. He stood frozen, literally almost, trying hard to get used to the agony but not able to.
I pointed him to kneel down, he submitted. I didn’t need to say anything more as he grabbed his ankles with his palms, spreading his knees wide. He took in a deep lungful of air before pulling his head up high.
There he was, shaking, rain falling directly on his face, his neck exposed and inviting, for what ever I wanted to do.
I had a wide grin on my face. That moment was a pure bliss, observing him do everything I asked and more, for my pleasure. He desired to satisfy my demands no matter what I asked him to do. It was orgasmic, without even needing me to touch myself. I was in the domspace. There was already a psychological explosion of pleasure within.
I stepped under the rain, moving closer, straddling his thighs as I went in for the kill, biting intensely on his neck.
The rainstorm was raging on, as ravenous as I.