The Storm

I pull into the driveway just as the first, fat drops begin to splatter my windshield. I hurry and park as quickly as I can but even the few seconds it takes are long enough that, by the time I get out of my car and dash for the front door, it's as if a giant tap has been opened up in the sky above.

"So much for helping with the yard work," I mutter as I ring the doorbell. Oh well - plants don't care where their water comes from, they'll be happy either way.

I turn to watch the deluge falling behind me, sheltered by the small overhang above the door. I don't have to wait long before I hear the door opening. I turn back and I'm greeted by your lovely face, currently marred by a frown of concern.

"There you are," you say with relief by way of greeting. The frown turns into a smile, a far more familiar expression. "Come in, Craig! Come in!"

I follow you as you back away from the door and step inside your home.

"It's good to see you, Mai," I say, pronouncing it properly, as 'my'.

I open my arms step forward to claim my much anticipated hug. Hugging you feels fantastic - your body feels so soft and warm - and I try to get them whenever I can.

Lately I've been letting them linger, a bit longer than is polite. You never seem to mind though and always tell me you enjoy our hugs as much as I do.

You eye my wet clothes dubiously but then smile and open your arms as well.

"Yuck, cold!" you say as we squeeze each other close.

"You didn't have to let me hug you, silly," I laugh lightly. But inside I'm glad you did.

"I like your hugs," you say. "Even cold, wet ones!"

"I like your hugs too, Mai," I reply. We still haven't released each other and my heart begins to beat a little faster. I experimentally squeeze a little tighter. To my pleasant surprise you squeeze back.

"You arms feel so good and strong," you sigh with contentment. You place your head against my chest, long, dark hair partially shrouding your face as nestle in.

My mouth has become a little dry in my mounting excitement. I swallow before speaking.

"You feel good too, Mai. So soft and warm."

My words are bold and, if they'd been overheard by the wrong person, decidedly inappropriate. But I know we're alone in the house, with Jake not expected back for another week at least. It's part of the reason I drove over - to help you with some of your heavier chores.

"Thank you, Craig," you say, "You're so sweet."

I feel your voice vibrating through your body and mine. We've snuck in many lingering hugs together through the years, but this is by far the longest. I wish it would never end and you don't seem in a hurry to let go either.

I still feel guilty at how attracted I've become to you. We're both married, after all. I tried to resist it at first, but as time went on the guilt started to become a source of titillating pleasure in itself.

"I got worried when I saw the sky get so dark," you say. "I was just about to call you and tell you to stay home."

"About an hour too late for that," I say wryly. "We don't exactly live close to each other."

You laugh warmly, free of inhibition or reservation. The sound fills me with joy and I lips curve upwards into a smile an involuntary smile of their own.

Let's be honest, it wasn't even that good a joke. But you only ever laugh in one way: enthusiastically. As if you'd never imagined anything could be funnier. It's one of the two or three dozen reasons I've secretly grown to love your company so much.

"No, we don't," you reply, eyes dancing merrily. "But that didn't stop you from coming over to help. You're so considerate."

"Are you kidding?" I'm filled with the sudden wild urge to kiss the top of your head. I throttle it back, barely, even as a insidious little voice in my head asks why. "You promised to make your noodles and fried chicken. Nothing short of a twister would keep me away. Maybe not even that - I could always learn to fly."

You laugh that same joyful laugh again and I join you with a light chuckle. Your laugh is so beautiful, I can't help myself even if I wanted to.

Your laugh also does wonderful things with other, interesting parts of your anatomy. I feel the vibrations of your mirth channeled between us as your chest shakes and your breasts move against me.

The sensation drives me a little bit wild. At least that's my excuse as, emboldened beyond reason, I decide to caress your back. Slowly at first, as if I believe that should you voice protest I could pretend I'm just . . . what? Stretching my fingers?

But no protest is forthcoming and after a few seconds I shamelessly increases the length of my caresses, travelling further up to your shoulders and lower down towards your waist.

"Mmhm, that feels so nice," you sigh. "Your hands are so strong." If that weren't approval enough, you trace your own hand lazily up my spine.

I groan low in my throat as your small, soft hands caress my skin through the fabric of my wet shirt. I tuck my chin in against my chest and inhale deeply of the scent of your hair.

"You always smell so good, Mai," I say softly.

"I love your smell too," you purr. "So manly and sexy."

You press your palms flat against my back and pull me closer to you - spasmodically, almost furtively. While I don't know if it was your intention, your action has the consequence of pressing your chest even more tightly against mine. I groan again, louder this time, as two delectably pliant orbs press firmly against me, hard enough that our clothing no longer feels like a barrier. I imagine I can detect two hardened nubs through the layers and feel a part of me swell to semi-hardness as well.

Any remaining shred of pretense is abandoned completely when I push my hands down your back, past your deliciously sensual waistline. Down to that those treasures of sumptuous flesh that I've salivated over at many of our group's get-togethers, but never dared to touch until now.

"Yes . . ." The breath hisses through your clenched teeth as my hands grasp that which they've craved for so long. I squeeze both cheeks firmly, lovingly. You hiss again, wordlessly - then lift your head from my chest and turn your beautiful face up towards mine.

"Kiss me," you demand impatiently, your lustful eyes locked on mine.

"Please," you sigh softly as you slink your arms around my waist and pull me in for an intimate embrace.

"Your wish is my command," I smile hungrily and lower my head to claim your lips for the first time.