The Rainstorm

It always amuses me how guys carefully construct ways to lure women into sexual situations. After food and alcohol, it's what we spend most of our time thinking about. But my most erotic experience, ever, was completely unplanned, even came about innocently. All because it rained.

A friend from my home town, Melissa, was visiting NY City in the Summer with her college roommate Denise. Melissa was a beautiful, willowy brunette whom I'd known for years. We flirted a little but essentially were just friends from the 4-H club. (Yeah, country hicks.) I invited them to my apartment near Central Park for dinner that evening. Beforehand, the girls went to listen to some musicians playing an outdoor concert in the park. However, the weather conspired against them and in the middle of the concert, the sky darkened and the heavens opened. A downpour ensued, washing out the concert. They raced off on foot, but it was too late. They appeared at my apartment door, soaked. They dripped water as they staggered into the apartment. Their thin Summer dresses clung to them.

"We're half drowned," Melissa exclaimed.

"Oh my," I sympathized. "Come in, you've got to dry off."

They realized that staying in dripping clothes was not an option.

"Why don't you guys put your clothes into my clothes dryer. Here's some towels to wrap yourselves in," I offered.

I handed them the two bath towels I owned (I'm a bachelor; two was all I had.) They went into the laundry nook just off the living area of the small NY apartment. I pretended to busy myself elsewhere in the apartment but with a slight turn of my head, I had a line of sight. And a lovely sight it was. Melissa was always buxomly, but with a farm girl's firm body. Denise, blonde and petite, was smaller-breasted but curvaceous with a round and shapely backside. They stripped off their clothes, including underwear, and threw everything into the dryer. Naked, they each wrapped a towel around their body. My bath towels aren't large and a towel wrapped around the chest would reach just to the top of the thigh. Glimpses of their groin could be seen beneath the towel. But if they wanted to fully cover the groin, the breasts would be exposed..

"Are these the biggest towels you have?" Melissa called to me.

"Yes," I replied. "Why, what's the matter?" (As if I hadn't noticed.)

"These are terrible," she complained.

They chose to cover their breasts, and scurried to sit down in chairs in the living room. They crossed their legs, protecting their modesty but their entire legs, bare to the waist, were exposed.

I kept my gaze on their eyes, in a gentlemanly gesture. (Although I have excellent peripheral vision.)

We chatted casually for a bit, but their condition could not be ignored.

"Do you often have half-nude women in your apartment?" Melissa asked, smiling.

"Well, yes," I replied. "It's a house rule that women have to strip when they enter. It saves me so much time from wondering what they look like naked," I said cheekily.

"Does that rule apply to the men, too?" Melissa asked.

"I've never had that situation arise," I answered.

"What about saving us from wondering what you look like naked? Do you recall the old saying, what's good for the goose...?"

Huh?

"Are you suggesting that I take off my clothes?" I asked, naively.

This was taking a turn I hadn't contemplated. After all, we weren't dating, nor were Melissa and I old lovers. And I had never seen Denise before in my life. Who were these brazen women? Are they as sex crazed as men?

"This is an age of equality. Why should only us women be undressed? Are you embarrassed to show off your body?"

"No," I answered. "I'm proud of my physique. But my clothes aren't wet."

The girls exchanged glances. Then Melissa and Denise arose and went into the kitchen. I heard water running from the faucet into two glasses, one held by each woman.

"Hang on, now," I protested. "You wouldn't dare!"

They smiled Chesire-cat grins and walked toward me. I backed to the windows as they circled me from each side. They ignored the limitations of their towels; I stared at the two approaching vaginas. They cornered me and two glasses of water splashed on my clothes.

"Oh my," Denise said, "you need to get out of those wet clothes. We can help."

I could have fought them, of course. But truth be told, I was excited by four hands grabbing at my clothes. Soon my shirt was off, while other hands unbuckled my belt. My trousers were lowered and I was just in my underpants.

"They must be wet too," Melissa said. But before I could reply (they weren't), she and Denise had them around my ankles. My penis, already excited from ogling their bodies, sprang to full height.

"I see what you're proud of." Denise offered.

Denise cupped the testicles while Melissa rubbed her hands up my chest to my neck. She leaned in and inserted her tongue into my mouth. Denise continued to massage my sensitive parts. Wide-eyed and stunned by what was happening, I still moaned with pleasure. This encouraged Denise to rub the shaft of the penis. She wet her hand with some moisture from the glass, and applied it to that quivering organ. I was ok with that.

There are many things that human beings do very well upright. Sex is not one of them. "Lie down," Melissa commanded. I did as I was told, but reached out and pulled off her towel on the way down. Those fulsome breasts finally made an appearance, bouncing free from the towel. I reached up to circle her protruding nipples. She didn't stop me. Denise followed suit with the towel. We were all nude.

"Isn't this so much better now that you're free of those wet clothes?" Melissa mocked.

I lay on my back. Denise, above me, straddled my head with her knees, leaning forward to massage my chest and abdomen. This gave me a privileged, inches-away, view of her bottom. So much for those earlier feints of modesty. Melissa was down at my feet, pressing my knees outward, and leaning forward to my middle. She used her mouth to excite me. With her hand, she massaged below the penis, putting pressure on the prostate gland, with predictable results.

"I'm going to come," I cried.

"No," Melissa said sternly. "Not yet."

Then she squeezed the tip of the penis, shutting down the pressure to ejaculate. (This girl knew what she was doing. How did I miss this during our 4-H days?)

"We get a turn before you come," she said. With that, Denise lowered her female parts toward my mouth, inviting me to satisfy her with my tongue. Hard to refuse an offer like that. I lapped hungrily away at her, inhaling the musk of her sex. When she had her fill, Melissa took her place. My tongue was getting tired but I'm a good sport.

After a while, Melissa sweetly asked me what I wanted.

"I've got to get some release here. Can I come inside you?"

"Yes, but only if you have a condom. I already bought a souvenir of my visit to New York; I'm not interested in another one."

I retrieved a condom from my bedroom and put it on. Melissa lay on the bed and I thrust into her. It wasn't long before I cried out.

Denise was standing, watching, a little miffed seeing my collapsing penis; she hadn't a turn yet. I reassured her that, with a little time and some orange juice, I was sure I could oblige her. Which in fact is what happened.

We spent the rest of the evening in the apartment. We played nudist until their clothes dried. Then we got dressed and ate the Chinese food I had ordered.

They were in town for a few more days. We enjoyed each other several times more. They left with kisses all around and promises of future visits. A few days later, a package arrived at the apartment The note said, "In case you have some more wet guests, these are what a gentleman should offer." It was two jumbo bath towels. They were lovely.