The Tempest is Thy Namesake Pt. 03

My long, low groans were a plea for contact. Cane moved his thumbs closer to my sex button, but he was going too slowly, I could not bear the sexual suspense. I howled in frustration. I howled in harmony with the growls and rumbles rolling through the dark clouds above our love nest.

Cane was close to my sweet spot. I held my breath. My ribs tightened in expectation of the night's first volcanic explosion of passion. In my sharp-edged anticipation, a primal cry seeped out of my throat ahead of my storm lover's touch upon my trigger. I was primed and loaded to blast at the instant my throbbing nub was mashed.

Cane reversed the motion of his thumbs, sliding them back down the lacy outer edge of my thong, along my sparking labia toward my buttocks. I screamed in frustration at his denial. I kicked my legs, still slung over his shoulders, beating my heels into his shoulder blades as I spurred my storm lover like an unbroken stallion. I kicked. I spurred, and I purred; pleading for him to give Stormy the satisfaction that she demanded.

Cane was unfazed by my tantrum. I think he rather enjoyed seeing me dangling over the edge of sexual ecstasy; fully aroused and yet wholly unsatisfied. I hated the way I loved being tortured by him under the turbulent skies within his cloud chamber.

I stopped kicking and waited to feel where his long, teasing fingers and thumbs would strike next. Once I quit spurring his back, Cane moved his thumbs under the elastic piping of my thong, lifting it off my moist skin.

His thumbs pulled my succulent labia, parting them like he was peeling the flesh off of a ripe peach. With my pussy lips gaping open, he plunged his thumbs inside of me, making me scream with the delight of being penetrated. Cane's thumbs traveled up the inside of my peeled fruit, rubbing my hot, viscous nectar into my pink folds as he worked me carefully, pushing me open wider, which only made me want to be filled full with his cock. The flat pads of his thumbs made small rotations as they progressed toward my bud, aching with the need to be fingered. He stretched me open, allowing my juices to trickle between my legs as he massaged his fingertips around the top of my scanty undergarment.

Millimeter by millimeter he climbed toward my pulsing princess. I was ravaged by intense desire; I rolled my hips up to meet and embrace these interlopers into my secret canyon. With an involuntary feminine response to his inserted digits, I ground my vulva into his hands, rocking and thrusting with grunts of deep gratitude; when I remembered I had been silently admonished for such behavior moments earlier.

This time Cane allowed me to continue. I arched and rubbed my soft flesh onto his hands, humping and bumping as hard as I could, intending to paint the hands of this artist with my sticky fluids. His slickened and scented thumbs worked their way up to my clitoris as I was building to a sharp-peaked, explosive orgasm, moaning and whimpering in the pre-orgasmic way I do.

My insides were winding tight. I was close to the crest; I would break over any second now. My uncontrolled breaths were rapid and shallow. My nipples were hard as they poked into the corset which was shifting back and forth over my titties as I pushed my calves against Cane's shoulders, rocking my torso across the bed in a delirious rhythm. The storm's display continued above the cloud chamber, urging me to reach orgasm as sharp bolts of lightning ripped the clouds and thunder split the air.

My electrified bud was about to be ripped by an intense bolt and my stewing honey pot was about to be split by thunder. The soft, fleshy pad of Cane's thumb stroked the underside of my distended clit; lightning struck. My body went rigid. I seized up solid with all of my muscles clenching into a big knot. My lungs stopped taking breath for a moment. The lightning strike whipped in and out of my body, leaving me to shake in its thunderous aftermath.

My lungs filled with a rush of sweet air and I shrieked in terrified pleasure of the moment. Cane rolled his thumb around my swollen bud in small circles, making me gasp for short breaths that were quickly exhaled as sharp, barking screams. The orgasmic thunder's shockwaves ran up and down my body from throat to toes.

Cane kept rubbing my clit as I came flying off of my orgasmic peak, only to make me build up to another sharp peak in an instant. In a rush of clenching muscles, flexing belly contractions and in a cadence of building moans; I climaxed, swooping down from the stratosphere in a rapid free fall. I threw my arms wide out to my sides, gripping the bedspread with all of my might as if it were a parachute which I needed to hold onto in order to break my screaming fall from heaven. I seized the midnight blue comforter as if I feared letting it loose would be like free-falling without a parachute, only to be dashed to pieces as I fell to earth from my sky-high orgasm. The hot sex flush brought on by Cane's playing with my twat made me believe I saw steam was rising from my damp corset.

Cane backed off from his toying with my love bud, "I thought that your damp clothes would dampen your mood, guess I was wrong about that."

I was gasping for breath when he slid both hands down the outside of my legs toward my hips. "But did we not agree, passion is best served without damp clothes? A deal is a deal."

I lifted my ass off the bed so he could scoop around behind me and remove my thong. He pulled it free of my feet and brought it to his nose. Cane inhaled my musk and then sucked my juices out of the crotch's fabric. Cane held my soaked pretty nothing close to his face and explained, "I make my living from the sky, where I find inspiration. But I must admit there is a wonder and an inspiration to be found in the earthy scent and herbal notes detected in the intimate rain which drips from an aroused woman's love chamber." Cane took another deep breath of my scent for more inspiration and then let my lingerie drop to the floor.

Laying on my back, naked only from my waist down, it seemed inexplicably more taboo than if I had been undressed starting with my chest. Cane's reverse order of stripping my clothes off added to my teeth-grinding excitement.

Cane pushed my knees apart, spreading my legs wide. He parted my puffy labia and then used a single index finger to insert himself into my honey pot, dipping his finger into my sex juices and then smearing them over my outer rim. He painted my pussy with my self-generated lubricant before burrowing below my puckered folds to bathe my clit with the sticky liquor, using small circles.

I clenched my jaw tight and drew in a large breath through my nostrils. I held a lung full of air as I waited for another explosion. I was climbing toward a shattering climax, arching my back to bend myself into an angle where I presented my clitoris to my lover; then he stopped his rubbing.

I dropped my hips and exhaled in a loud moan of exasperation. Yet again, Cane had brought me close to the edge, only to stop at exactly the wrong moment. His teasing of my secret parts sure did hurt a girl so good.

After my moan of exasperation, Cane came right back, slipped two fingers into my quivering vagina and began to stroke the interior top of my hidden hole with slow, beckoning strokes. My internal muscles contracted, flexing my stomach as my lady parts offered a tight hug to his penetrating fingers. I rapidly built back toward a sharp-peaked orgasm as I writhed and chugged out quick bursts of plaintive chirps of gratification. I wanted to beg my lover to let me come, but I was too dizzy and overcome by my building sensations to be able to squeeze any words out of my fizzy brain. I had climbed to the first shoulder of a steep orgasm, my pussy was raining lubricant on Cane's two fingers as it clamped tight in a shuttering warning of the volcanic burst just seconds away. Then he stopped his stroking and let me twist in the wind, grinding and begging for relief.

Cane announced, "Sorry, I seem to be getting ahead of myself here. Back to our agreement; I have neglected to remove your damp clothes. Please forgive me."

I didn't give Cane an answer, nor did he seem to expect one; he was going to do with me what he wanted. And for my part, I was happy to have it that way.

Cane backed in between my spread legs and sat in my lap so I was pinned down by his weight on my lower belly. As I faced his back, he bent down and removed his boots and socks. With a twirl he flipped next to me and began to remove my damp blouse, as promised. With the fingers of a magician, my blouse was unbuttoned and disappeared in an instant.

My silver satin corset was a tougher nut to crack, with multiple eye hooks and with very little play in the encompassing fabric, Cane had to work to reveal my secrets. I took a perverse pleasure in holding still while the man fought with my seductive wrapping before he got to the prize inside. With the tension in the last fastener removed, I was unbound and revealed.

My nipples sprung out, tall and proud upon their release. My breasts flattened without the support of the corset's boning, but held their young, mounded shape well.

"I love those long, sexy nips. Those nipples are the most stately and beautiful feminine attributes I've ever had the pleasure to unveil," Cane said in a hushed voice with the tone of honest appreciation. "They look like weathervanes atop a pair of cupolas. They are truly magnificent."

I blushed with the compliment and felt the warmth rise into my erect pair of nipples. I was pleased to have my upturned tits on display for Cane and I wanted them appreciated with more than words. I moved my hands up under my boobs, cupping them to increase their height. It was a move that was meant to be a physical offering to my storm lover.

Cane couldn't resist, he petted the upper slope of my breast where it rose from my shoulder to the pointed pink pillars at the tip. He gave me a slow pinch, the pressure between his thumb and finger sent a shiver down my middle and rattled my core. He held my nipple tight at its base like a smoldering joint and leaned over and gave the sensitive top of that nipple a quick flick of his tongue. I wasn't expecting that this little lick would ignite the flash orgasm that shot through my pussy with the biting kick of an electric shock.

Cane moved across my chest to the other neglected sister and stuffed her between his lips with a slurping sound. I braced for another shocking flash, but got a pool of warm butter melting and dripping inside my center instead.

Cane rolled off my tits and laid on his back reaching for my right hand. He put his hand on mine and lingered there for a moment as we looked upward through the crystal roof. A lightning bolt streaked across the sky, blue and jagged. Cane squeezed my hand tight at the powerful show playing out above us. "That's some kind of weather out there. It must be making those weathervanes of yours spin something fierce," he said after another squeeze of my hand and a quick lick over each erect nipple.

I smiled to myself at his affectionate touch, but this storm and that kind of lightning had me worked up and in a mood for some ferocious sex. "It's all about the weather," I reminded him in a whispered, slow and sultry voice.

Cane released my hand, gave me a tap on the wrist as he dropped his feet to the floor at the edge of the bed. "Yes it is - it's all about the weather. Forgive me. I have been distracted by your erotic beauty and I have let my head stay in our game to the exclusion of my more artistic member. It is all about the weather. I believe we have that in common."

I tried to contain myself as I watched Cane toss his black blazed over the back of a wooden chair and pull off his black, knit shirt. The percussive sound of a good and raucous game of ninepins continued to echo through our cloud chamber.

Cane's bare chest was broad with the hint of definition in some of his muscle groups. Off center of his manly chest was a moderate sized tattoo, shifted to the left as if it was meant to sit over his heart. I looked closely. It was a red circle with two flared fins or wings pointing in opposite directions, one above and one below. It was the same symbol that I had seen in the corner of Cane's skyscapes when I looked to find the artist's signature on the paintings downstairs. I had to think there was some significance to this symbol that he used both as his mark on his art and permanently emblazoned over his heart.

Cane bared himself in a single move, placing his slacks and underwear next to my skirt on the wooden chest at the end of the bed. "There, that completes my half of our previous agreement. It feels good to be out of my damp clothes. This will set the proper mood, to which we had agreed earlier." Cane stood in front of me, with a casual, underhand grip on his cock, he stroked himself as he admired my bare, white skin contrasting with the dark blue of the comforter beneath me.

I got well aroused all over again as I watched him handle his member; I never realized how much I enjoyed being looked over by a man as he fondled his stiffening cock. I had this recurring thought as I lay spread eagle in the cloud chamber, titties up to the storm which was howling outside; I thought, I'm lying naked in the middle of fierce storm clouds, I'm in heaven.

Cane eased onto the bed, I watched him fold his long limbs into compact form. He sat next to me without making a sound. He ran his fingers around the edge of my breasts, working his light touch down my cleavage, using the tips of his four fingers to excite my belly skin. He worked my flesh as if he were preparing a canvas before painting a skyscape.

I closed my eyes, concentrating on the touch of his fingers as I listened to the tempestuous sky above and the throbbing of desire within. His fingers moved further down, pausing to tickle the bald, smooth area that I had prepared the day before. My new-look, lacking pubic hair, gave me a fresh feel and permission to embrace Stormy's wild side. Having altered my appearance specifically for a moment such as this; I was no longer Wendy I reasoned; I was a bald pussy Stormy. I centered my thoughts on my lower belly as Cane's fingertips swept over my skin as if he was gathering a bunch of tiny, fleeting bubbles into a cluster. I smiled to myself, imagining liquid pleasure like Champagne bubbles oozing out my pores, being gathered into a pool by Cane's fingers.

He finished his curious touches, extending a single finger straight down the axis of my body to the beginning of my slit. He paused and then applied pressure to my swollen clitoris, buried just below the surface, hot and saucy within my puffy folds.

I gave him a convulsive shudder when he pressed my button and a simultaneous gasp. He parted my labia with two fingers, submerging them into my dewy interior. With fingers wetted by my own liquid excitement, he returned to the underside of my clit and mashed it with up and down rubbings. There was an invisible cord that attached to my belly button and with an invisible hand it lifted my hips off the bed. I arched and floated skyward, coaxed by the toying of my twat. The expanding bubble within my pussy was making me rise and float as it grew larger and larger; it was about to burst in another explosive upheaval of gluttonous gratification.

The eruption surprised me. I threw my arms across my head, screaming for mercy in short, starving breaths as tremors shook my glutes and thighs. Had the dome of the cloud chamber been torn away? The lightning and thunder that surrounded me seemed to be inside the room.

"You seem to be the one having all of the fun. Not that I mind. I enjoyed listening to your sex sounds; you sing sweet harmony to the thundering bass of the heavens."

I did not answer my lover's words to me. I was grasping for my wits and gasping for breath.

"You feel the storm, don't you? We have that in common. I sensed it from the beginning." Cane appeared standing at the edge of the bed. He held my ankles and pulled me toward him until the fleshiest portion of my rump was balanced on the edge of the mattress. He held my legs together as they pointed up to the flashing sky. He pushed them back toward my boobs, folding me at my waist. I spread my arms for balance. In this position I felt like I was one big, wet pussy. Cane shoulder my legs over his left shoulder, held my thighs tight to his chest and used his right hand to place his erection at the entrance of my love tunnel. I grabbed fistfuls of fabric as I braced for his penetration. I was eager to finally be fucked on a dark and stormy night such as this.

I held my fists tight, feeling a whirring inside my pussy from the building anticipation of my lover's penetration. Cane locked onto my eyes while he handled himself, bathing his cock in my plentiful juices, getting himself primed and lubed. The tickle of his dick's tip as it dabbed at my pink pussy made me think I was his palette and Cane's cock was his paint brush. He was a fine artist as he loaded his man-brush with the aromatic contents of my feminine well. He held the base of his cock as he swirled and mixed our fluids around the pulsing rim of my opening. I grew heated and flush at the thought of being his living canvas, of being one of Cane's creations. I drew my chest tight, expectant beyond measure for the moment when Cane would paint me with his own ejaculated spatter of creative paint, using my body as his canvas. I wanted to be his masterpiece.

Cane had worked me over, prepping me and his dick with glorious gobs of natural lubricant.

A brilliant flash blazed through the cloud chamber accompanied by a resounding crack. "That's the sign," Cane said to me as he stuck his cock between my legs and drove into me with a hard thrust.

I responded to the spreading of my slippery velvet walls by the massive manly intrusion with a huge groan of pent up pleasure escaping from me as if I had been punctured. I wanted him deep. I want him all in me. I wanted to consume him and suck up every millimeter and become drunk with ecstasy as I felt him fill me full.

He held my outstretched legs tight over his mysterious tattoo making my pussy feel slender and tight for my lover. He stayed still inside of me after his first hard plunge. I took the opportunity to flex my vaginal muscles to clinch the glorious manhood lodged deep within my secret chamber. The flexing brought on an increased intensity of gratification as small waves radiated throughout my loins.

My lover began to push his penis in and out of me in slow, rhythmic grinding thrusts. Each inward brush stroke was met with a spasmodic moan as he went deep in my pussy. He pumped me with a growing intensity, each stroke gaining speed and power, jarring my pelvis and shaking those moans of anguished pleasure out of my lungs. As his thrusting frequency sped up, I matched his cadence with a staccato burst of smeared sounds and simpering pleas. I wanted the intensity to build and not stop. I could not speak; I could only babble frothy sex sounds into the storm ravaged night.

The large cock sliding in and out was making sloppy, wet slurping sounds in my juice-slathered vagina. I squeezed my inner parts to give Cane's cock some resistance as he continued to slam me up something wonderful.

Cane held my legs bound with his left arm and probed with his right hand between legs to find my clit. His thick cock kept sliding hard into home as he used his right thumb to stimulate my clitoris while I was being fucked hard on my back with my legs over his shoulder. The sex was all the more wild owing to the fury of the storm, the fervent fucking and the ferocious massaging of my twat. I short-circuited. My pussy, my nipples, my uterus went haywire. I hollered, "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! That's too much!" I pleaded. "Oh no, no; It's too much to handle." I begged for a break. "Whoa! I'm going to die. God help me!" I screamed for relief from the killing pleasure ripping through my uterus. This is the kind of sex that Stormy demanded, but in the midst of my orgasmic convulsions I wasn't so sure anymore. I feared I had overdosed on frantic fucking. The intensity was too great to truly enjoy.