Quench of Thirst

The thunder rolled to announce its presence. Blue sky was quickly pushed across and away by dark gunmetal grey clouds, like henchmen clearing a restaurant for the Don.

Jenna’s brown eyes glanced up into the darkening sky as her olive face caught the first of the spitting rain with her long straight brunette hair falling down her back. She took a sip of her coffee and quickly put away the blue spiral scribbler she had been writing in. Her sweater and leggings are black over top of an aqua blue tee-shirt. One of her brown boots bopped, with her legs crossed and music from one of the parked cars offering Sammy Hagar telling her to “com’on baby, finish what ya started…”

The rain turned from the occasional spit to actual drops and the thunder roared again. The cream of sidewalk became quickly dotted with darker brown patches. Even some birds took cover beneath the building overhang. Cars began splashing between zips along the crowded street.

Jenna stood up and placed her bag under the chair with the thought of it staying dry. She then stretched her hands towards the dancing clouds. “Bring it on,” she whispered in a deep sultry tone that none of the, now scampering, passers by hear.

The sky listened. The rain started to beat on the ground making minor splashes as it hit and widening the dotted sidewalk to more of a painted brown look.

Jenna slipped her black sweater off her shoulders and tipped her head back. Quickly, her brunette hair becomes shiny black, her aqua blue tee-shirt turned to a darker blue-olive and showed a white bra seeping beneath it. She reached beneath her shirt and skillfully, quickly, pulled the bra off and out from under the shirt.

Rain became a down pour as it wished to touch her, to caress her…

Jenna’s nipples poked through her shirt, hard as rocks and attempting to make the rain’s journey that much less. She swung her head, causing hair to slap audibly against her shoulders as the wet ran down her head, into her shirt, down her breasts and belly. Her leggings now stuck to her, but reveal little other than shapely slim legs.

Rain let up just enough that the music in the car was noticed again…”We shall never surrender!” Winston Churchill announced the beginning of Supertramp’s Fool’s Overture.

Jenna loved the song. She spread her arms straight out and silently called for more rain.

It came. The rain orgasmed over her like a flood washing her inhibitions away with wave upon wave as the keyboards of Fools continued.

Jenna stood and continued to bathe. Her clothes, a second skin and a smile that could not be vanquished.

Finally, as the rain began to subside enough to allow those afraid of melting back onto the street, a passerby slowed to watch. His ball cap kept the rain off his eyes, but his tee-shirt and boarder shorts were drenched as well.

Dropping her arms to her sides and lowering her soaked gaze, Jenna’s brown eyes caught his blue.

“Wow,” he whispered.

Jenna smiled. “Name? What’s your name?”

“Darren.” His eyes slipped to her very visible breasts for a quick view.

She bent down and picked her sweater and bra off the chair to wring out the rain. “Well, Darren…” Bending to pick up her bag, she dropped the sopping clothes into it before standing completely straight and giving him a bright smile. “Wanna fuck?”

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