Thunderous

The sky was getting darker and the air was hot and oppressive. A storm was imminent, both literally and metaphorically.

'I don't know what you expect me to do.' he said with his back to me.

'I don't expect anything' I replied, glancing up at gathering charcoal clouds overhead. If the situation hadn't been as difficult as it was, this would be the perfect situation for me.

Nothing turns me on like a thunder storm, a good fight and the back of his neck. Don't ask me why - I didn't say I wasn't a complicated character.

He turned around and looked at me - the look was essentially cold but with something definite underneath.

'I don't want to talk about this anymore.' he said

'Ok' I replied, still feeling really angry but not wanting to make things worse. Anger is not good on me. It rarely happens, but when it does, it really does!

'Come on then we might as well go, it's gonna start pissing down.'

We're in complete silence, unsaid things weighing down on us both worse than the humidity. Then all hell broke loose and a torrential downpour started, soaking both of us to the skin in ten seconds. He grabbed my hand and pulled me under some trees next to a high wall surrounding god knows what; I had no idea where we were and there was nobody else around. It made very little difference.

We stood there for a while, saying nothing, getting soaked and more and more annoyed. Then my rage got the better of me and I let fly at him with a torrent of abuse. I blamed him for everything, calling him every name under the sun and he just stood there and took it, letting me rant like a woman possessed, the only hint of a reaction being his tensed jaw - or so I thought.

Without a second's warning he'd grabbed me by the shoulders and thrown me up against the wall.

'Are you going to fucking shut up any time soon or am I gonna have to make ya?' he sounded genuinely incensed.

'Get your fucking hands off me!' his unexpected act of aggression had caught me off guard and I didn't quite know what to do with it. A part of me was concerned, even a little bit scared, but that was over-powered by a wanton, furious lust which, in combination with my earlier rage made my heart race. I wanted him now more than ever. He was staring at me with an expression that said he wanted to tear me apart - and I knew I was returning it with an I dare you.

I tried to push him away from me, but he definitely had the physical advantage here and with one hand pushed me hard back up against the wall, the other hand slamming into the wall an inch away from my face with some serious force.

At this point I was actually getting a little more scared, but being pushed around by a guy who could seriously hurt me if he felt inclined but who I knew never would was more turning me on than frightening me.

Our faces were inches apart, staring eachother down. He still had a hand on my chest, holding me down. Then he kissed me, violently. There was no romance here, I was about to get punished for my mistake, and for having the audacity to blame it all on him. He bit my bottom lip, I dragged my nails down his back so hard it drew blood. The rain was still coming down in buckets and my vest top had gone completely transparent - bad day not to wear a bra. His hands were underneath it, holding my breasts hard enough to hurt. I bit his neck, just below his jaw and I started to feel myself getting more and more wet - and not just from the rain. If he didn't do something about it pretty damn quick there would be hell to pay.

As if he'd read my mind, he pulled up my top and started to suck and bite my nipples. I moaned involuntarily and ran my hand over the front of his jeans, feeling his hard cock and desperately wanting it. He undid my jeans with one hand and pushed them down over my hips. I tried doing the same with his but he smacked my hand away and shoved me back against the wall, holding me there by my wrists.

'Do as you're told, slut. I'm calling the shots here.'

I loved how aggressive he was, how demanding he was being. He looked down at me, I could tell he was deciding what to do with the royal blue thong I was wearing. He did exactly what I wanted him to and ripped it off in one go. He let go of one of my wrists and almost savagely pushed his fingers inside me, breathing heavily against my neck. I thought I was going to pass out I wanted it so badly. He was hurting me, but it was so good I didn't want him to stop.

'Like that you dirty bitch?'

'You know I do, so less of the conversation and fuck me' I replied, defiant.

He undid his jeans then grabbed my thigh hard and pulled my leg up round his waist. I could feel cold concrete against my back, grazing my skin. He thrust into me so violently my head banged against the wall. I was too into it to care. He was fucking me so hard and so deep that I knew I was going to lose it really quickly. He felt amazing, all strength and raw masculinity giving me the fucking of my life. I dug my nails into his arm and kissed him with the same ferocity as before. He stuck his finger up my ass and I knew it was all over for me. I came so hard on his cock I couldn't even see straight.

Breathless and shaky, he didn't even give me time to recover. He grabbed my hair and pushed me to my knees. I knew what he wanted and was happy to accommodate.

I licked him up and down, one hand stroking his cock, the other playing with his balls. I looked up for some kind of direction or reaction. He smiled and said

'Filthy whore' before grabbing my hair and shoving his dick in my mouth.

I was loving every second and took all of him in, teasing him with my tongue then pulling him deep into my mouth. His hands tangled in my hair and by the movement of his hips I knew what was about to happen.

Then he came with a violent shudder, forcing himself right into my throat and I swallowed it all down, loving the taste of him and never wanting to stop.

He leaned back, satisfied, then looked at me, jeans half down with torn off underwear, grazed, covered in dirt and bite marks and laughed

'You're great'