Open Love

Rain Rain c*m again...

Its really pouring cats and dogs today. We might get sent home early. We get phenomenal rains like these once every year in Mumbai. And Ruia lies in a low lying zone. Meaning water pools here like crazy. Just getting to college drenched me completely. The wind broke my umbrella. We all were sitting half soaked, waiting for lecture to begin. And again they got cancelled. But we still had lab work.

Me and my group of friends decided to go on the building terrace. It would be slipping wet, but we were soaked anyway. It was all empty and flooded. We dragged the tyre-cum-chaises and sat on them. It was lightly drizzling now.I looked around.

I really loved the terrace. It wasn't too big and it wasn't too small. It was the perfect size to hang out in. And from here, you could see the Matunga skyline. A weird mixture of really tiny, two-storeyed residential complexes and huge high-rising sky-scrapers. The clouds were rolling overhead. They looked so pregnant, their water ready to break at any moment. I loved being here, even if I was chattering from the ice-cold wind.

I text you, to come here. I need you to come here. You reply back a negative. You're busy with your own labwork at the moment. This won't do.

'I am soaking wet from the rain and I'm so so cold' I text back, attaching a selfie, as risqué as I can manage to get with people around.

I get a reply back.

'give me 15 minutes'

Everyone else decides to leave. The labwork is simply not worth drowning for, we decide. Almost the entire college is emptying. I tell my friends I'm leaving with you. I wait inside until they leave and go back on the terrace waiting under the roof of the entrance. Out of the two entrances one is locked to prevent flooding. I am shivering.

I hear the elevator door open and close. I attack your form furiously kissing you,pulling you into the terrace area. Thank God you're alone.

'Whoa,you're wet!'you say.

"And not how I'd like to be" I reply.

You take that as a challenge. My bra is unpinned under my shirt yet again. You're getting irritatingly good at this. I back you up against the wall next to the entrance, just out of range for any pair of wayward eyes. Not that it mattered, we were literally out in the open.

'You are so worked up today" you whisper in my ear.

'Mhmmhm' is all I can manage while peppering kisses on your neck. My hands are all over your chest and fumbling at your waist. Your hands are splayed across my back rubbing sensationally, sending delicious electricity down my spine.

You bring your hands around my waist to slip inside my shirt and under my bra. I exhale. My hands are in your hair now, I can barely do a thing. I am shivering, but not from the rain.

'Looks like you need this way more badly than I originally thought ,we need a quick fix' you say.

I bite your ear.

You look around and suddenly your eyes brighten. You lead me to a corner section of the terrace, where remnant beams of the building structure protrude outwards. They look like concrete tables. They are the perfect height to rest your elbows but a little difficult to climb and sit on.

But you straight up hoist me onto one, and pull down my pants. Track pants were a wonderful decision.

I gasped. I am soaking wet and now half naked, well almost, the pants pool at my feet. Your hands are under my thighs,over my calves racing across to my sex. Your fingers find me first, and I pull in your face for a kiss. I have crossed all my boundaries today. Your fingers come back slick, I blame the rain.

Pleasing me is difficult. Both your hands are at work. One rubbing circles on my clit, the other pumping finger after finger into my vagina. I my legs start to shake, my stomach starts to quake.

Every breath is inching me closer to glorious death. Le petit mort. I moan. Out loud.

The rain has gone from a drizzle to a raging storm. All that cold water on us, and I'm on fire.

You push away from my face only to bring yours on my sex. Your first lick on my clitoris sends me shaking into spasms. I can no longer sit upright, I lean over the surface, splayed out like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Your tongue finds rhythm with your fingers. Pumping me, sucking me, pulling me closer and closer to you, until I can bear it no longer. With a scratch of your finger and flick of your tongue, I convulse into climax.

A bone-shaking, muscle-quivering, petit mort.

I cannot move. You help me into my pants and steady me inside the building, out of the terrace plot. Everybody is going home. We get our bags and reach the exit of college too. We leave and walk together. You notice I don't turn towards my usual way.

'You're home is that way' you turn to me and say.

'I'm coming with you today, I have to finish what you started' I whisper.