Caught in the Rain

A Summer shower can be a delightful experience. The warmth of the day and the feel of soft rain against the skin is often followed by the bright sun chasing the clouds. Sometimes rainbows appear as the sun scatters leftover rain drops. A sensuous experience. I love getting caught in a gentle rain. Perhaps because it led to one of my favorite erotic experiences.

I was 20 years old, a junior in college. I had just begun dating Melissa, a freshman beauty. Brown hair down below her shoulders, a trim athletic figure, lovely breasts that stretched her t-shirt, and a beautiful smile. Her face shone when she was happy, the smile filling her face and her eyes lighting up when she laughed. I was much smitten, but she said she wanted to keep things slow and we had never done more than good night kisses. One Sunday, we drove to her family's cabin about 20 miles outside of town, a retreat. We had it to ourselves that July day. Our intent was to hike in the woods, eat a picnic lunch, and return to town in the early evening.

We set off toward a clearing in the woods where we could spread our blanket. We laid out the food and were enjoying the meal and a little wine we'd purloined from the cabin. While we ate, the sky slowly filled with clouds and it became apparent that the weather was turning. It began to rain, gently at first, just a sprinkle. But it intensified and the warm rain grew heavier. We scurried to collect our belongings. We hadn't brought umbrellas, and were too far from the cabin to avoid getting wet. But we were young and happy, and the rain dripping down off our heads and down our clothes was just part of the experience. When we found the safety of the cabin, we were soaked but laughing over our predicament.

Melissa was dressed in a thin t-shirt and shorts. I hadn't noticed as we scurried through the woods, but once in the cabin I realized how the rain had accentuated her figure. Think of a wet t-shirt contest, and that was how Melissa looked. Her shape of her breasts and her bra were conspicuous through the fabric. The wet shorts clung to the curves of her thighs and buttocks. I was the same, with my t-shirt clinging to the muscles of my chest. My wet shorts emphasized the bulge of the groin.

The shower hadn't lasted long, but long enough to get us soaked. Soon the sun was restored to the sky.

"We're going to have to dry these clothes," said Melissa.

"How do we do that?" I asked. The cabin did not have a washer or dryer.

"We live a rustic life here," said Melissa. "There's a clothes line out back. We'll dry them the old fashioned way, with the sun. There are some towels in the back room. We can wear them til the clothes dry."

I began to breathe a little heavier. That meant we'd have to strip. I had not seen her naked except in my fevered imagination. How was this going to work? Would she strip in front of me? Alas, that wet dream didn't happen.

"I'll go in the back room and take off my clothes. You can do it here in the front," she said.

She handed me a towel and disappeared into the back. I removed my clothes and wrapped the towel around my middle. When Melissa returned, she had her clothes in her hands with a towel tied around her chest, covering down to her thighs. I could see that her red panties and bra were among the wet clothes. She was naked behind the towel. We both were.

We took the clothes outside to the clothes line. I watched as she hooked the clothes with wooden clothes pins to the line. The line was above her head and I watched as she stretched her body upward. Each lift upward elevated the towel slightly higher on her thighs, revealing the bottom swell of the buttocks. In truth, I couldn't see much but just the sight of a few extra inches of skin excited me. And the thought that just inches separated me from her nakedness.

"Should take about an hour, and we'll be fine," she said. "There are some folding lawn chairs that we can set up outside. We can sunbath while we wait."

I set up two chaise chairs side by side, extended horizontally. Melissa lay down on one, and the towel edged higher toward her crotch. If I covertly looked at a certain angle, I could see small pubic hairs. My head was swimming.

We chatted for a while, then she closed her eyes and went silent. A semi-doze in the hot Summer warmth. I was too excited to sleep, but closed my eyes to keep her company. The chairs were close enough that I could listen to her breathing. I wanted to reach over and grab the towel. I wouldn't of course; I'm not a predator. She had said we should take things slow, but such temptation.

After a while, she roused and went to check on the clothes. They were dry. But as she stretched to unclip the clothes, the towel around her top loosened and fell. She stood with her back to me, nude. Her beautiful firm behind and the sensuous curve of her back transfixed me. To my surprise, she made no attempt to cover herself. She continued to collect the clothes. As she turned to deposit the clothes, I glimpsed her breasts. They were lovely, well-shaped and firm. After she took all the clothes down, she refastened the towel, more securely this time. She carried the clothes over to me.

"They're dry. But before we get dressed, you saw me naked. Don't you think it's only fair that you reciprocate?"

I lay on the chaise, stunned.

"I beg your pardon?" was the best I could muster.

She laughed. "You heard me. What are you waiting for?"

I knew what she was saying, but I didn't believe it. I'm not normally a lucky guy. I didn't move.

Melissa reached toward me and placed her hand on my towel. She locked her eyes on mine, and pulled the towel free. She didn't look down at my now exposed and stirring penis but looked straight in my eyes. With her other hand, she loosened the towel around her chest. It fell to the ground.

Thankfully, I recovered my senses. I grabbed her and pulled her down on top of me on the lounge. She put both hands on my face and kissed me deeply. And pressed her body against mine.

She rubbed my chest and my middle, and when my penis rose to the challenge, she stroked it with her hand, moistening it with saliva. I moaned with pleasure, and she pulled me to the ground, lying on her back so I could caress her. I kissed every part of her body, lingering at her groin. My tongue found her womanhood and she writhed with pleasure. I (idiot that I am) had not brought a condom, so I satisfied her with my hand, as she did to me. When we both found release, we lay in each other arms.

"I hadn't planned on this," she said. "When my towel fell, I had to make a choice. I guess the sight of your body with those wet clinging clothes turned me on. So I chose you."

I said before that I love a Summer rain. We both do. It conjures up that delightful time when we first knew each other. There have been many more times since, of course, but when gentle Summer rain falls, we make a point of letting it drench our body and clothes. We don't need it as an excuse as we once did. We just love the memory.