Raging Storm 7

The campervan was perched on a cliff, parked in a rest area overlooking the ocean. The sea below was in turmoil, grey and thrashing under the force of the storm. Lightning flashed towards the horizon, and thunder rolled in with the waves to crash against the cliff face. The humidity of the day had been driven away by the chilled winds, leaving the world grey and shining. Inside the campervan, a completely different storm had been unleashed...

Ivy was on her hands and knees, her face buried in the thin, camping mattress, taking a fast, rhythmic fucking from behind. The cock pumping in and out of her belonged to Simon, a man she'd met only a few hours earlier while surfing down below. A friendly conversation, some easy chemistry and a cheap, flirty dinner of fish and chips later -- albeit, with a couple of drinks to ease the process -- and here they were, slick with sweat and writhing in the trapped humidity of the van, a jungle born of their own hot breath and urgent lovemaking.

Simon wasn't her ordinary type, a little leaner, a little less traditionally masculine than, but he had made her laugh and then blush in quick succession, and she'd found herself smitten with the kind of love you only find on the road. She asked where he was staying, he told her a local hostel. She told him about her van, and they had practically run to it.

And now she was biting the sheet and groaning as he suddenly slowed his pace, pulling his cock almost the entire way out before driving it straight back in again. His instincts so far had complemented her tastes fairly well. But there was one thing missing.

She pushed up on her hands, arching her back and peering over her shoulder. "Pull my hair. Hard."

Something rough.

She thought she sensed some hesitation, but he took her hair up in his hand, nonetheless. She had to coach him to grip it closer to her scalp, but once he had it she felt that sweet, bright, sinful pain light up.

"Yeeeees. Now fuck me hard, Simon. Right now!"

He pulled, she reared and yelped and let some more filth spill from her lips, and he obliged. His balls slapped against and around her clit -- he wasn't necessarily aiming -- and she grinned dumbly up at the ceiling, letting him hold her in position by her thick, matted hair. After a few minutes she reached up and grabbed the handles she'd had installed in the roof for 'passengers' and started throwing her ass back into him.

"Harder," the demand came in sharp, ragged gasps. "Harder," her voice was pitching up into a whine. "HARDER!"

Something in Simon must have been triggered by the sheer ferocity in her voice, because he suddenly let out a strangled grunt and she felt him tug hard on her hair -- "FUCK UNGH" -- and crack his palm across her ass, sending up a mist of sweat.

Her knuckles turned white, her mouth drooped open and her eyes rolled as the orgasm rocked through her like an earthquake. She could dimly see a flash of her torso in the rearview mirror, flexing and contracting as her muscles spasmed. Her throat felt tight, and for a brief moment she wasn't sure she could breathe. But then it opened back up, she pulled in a huge breath and let out a long, low, trembling moan as she finally let go of the handles and fell back down to the mattress, shaking. Simon, god bless him, slid up behind her, pulling her onto her side so he could wrap an arm around her and stroke her hair. He gave her ear what he must have thought were gentle kisses, not knowing they were like electric shocks through her body until she shooed him away.

When the thumping in her ears subsided, and the coil in her groin had unfurled, she was left aware of two things: Simon's erection pressing a reminder into the small of her back, and the sound of the storm outside.

When had it started raining?

Thunder rolled, and the sound mirrored a hunger growling inside of her. She wasn't finished.

"Simon?" she asked, a mischievous smile unfurling across her lips.

"Mhmm?" No seductiveness, no guile, just an open, honest, 'yes?' So much innocence in that tone for someone who had just been riding her harder than she'd had in six months.

"You didn't cum, did you?"

A bashful laugh, then, "Uh, no. Not yet."

"Good. I've got an idea." She scrambled to her knees before he could ask further and flung open the side door of the van. A wave of cold wind rushed in with a shower of rain, and she heard him give a startled yell. She reached for his hand, grabbed it, dragging him towards the storm, "Come on!"

The park was deserted, and the closest houses were over a kilometre away and wreathed in the haze of the rain. She ran boldly to the railing, cool water running down her burning skin in a thousand tiny rivers. She looked out at the ocean, the vastness of it, grey and active and agitated. She felt a deep kinship with it.

She turned to Simon, who was trying to cover his genitals without appearing too un-masculine.

"Fuck me here," she said.

He laughed, "What?"

She beamed, pushing a swatch of wet hair out of her face. "Bend me over the railing and fuck me, right here, right now. Cum inside of me while I'm hanging off the edge of the world!"

Maybe she was being too erratic, or the flashes of lightning were throwing him off, but after a long moment of consideration, Simon nodded. He stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace whose warmth defied the chill of the storm. She let him kiss her deeply, snaking a hand down to wrap around his cock and keep him primed, until he finally broke away, grabbed her hips and spun her around. She gleefully pressed right up against the railing and held onto it while he slid into her. She felt his warmth penetrating and she let out a cry of joy, her face turned up to the rain. Once he was inside her, she let go of the railing and held her arms out to him.

"Grab my wrists!"

He took them dutifully. Now she was bent over the railing, her chest and face turned to the ocean and the storm, completely exposed.

"Now, Simon!" she called. "Go and don't fucking stop!"

Thunder rolled and he started pumping into her. The leverage afforded by holding onto her wrists appeared to be enough to let him drive into her with a fair amount of force. She heard their bodies slapping together, and felt her pussy clamping onto him every time he bottomed out. While he ravaged her from behind, the storm attacked her from the front. She felt its hands on her breasts, her neck, her stomach. She felt the ice of the wind biting and clawing at her. The harder Simon fucked her from behind, the harder the storm seemed to want to claim the rest of her.

Lightning flashed again, and she almost felt like it was reaching out for her.

"I'm fucking close," she dimly heard from behind.

"Yes," she whispered.

Thunder rumbled, so close she could feel it in her bones and flesh.

"Fuuuck."

"Yes," she whispered again. Was that a tear running down her cheek, mixing with the rain?

There she was on the edge of the world, legs apart, chest bared and ready to fall into it for the rest of her life.

She heard groaning and felt hot cum blooming up inside of her. She didn't close her eyes but stared straight ahead. Straight into the storm. Straight into the heart of the world.