The night sky boils with the threat of a thunderstorm- inky clouds stirring patterns over a moonless sky. The air is heavy and electric, and the boy I love lies next to me in the tall grass of an abandoned field.

"Turn over. Look at me." His voice is low and strong. I roll over, into his waiting arms.

He wraps me in a warm embrace that could have lasted an eternity. In his arms, I feel safe and strong, and completely carefree. The static charged, pre-storm air mirrors the sparks I feel coursing between us.

He rubs his thumb in small circles on my shoulder blade. He pauses, and suddenly he pulls me in closer to his chest. One of his hand curls into the hair at the back of my neck with burning urgency, while the other presses into the small of my back. Our eyes lock for a fraction of a second before his lips hit mine.

He kisses me roughly. Rough lips, noses bumping carelessly, the taste of my own chapstick, his tongue on my teeth. I'm overwhelmed with the violent passion erupting between us, and the raw need we both feel. I take a shaky breath. He smells really fucking good.

I want him, badly. The wetness starts to pool between my thighs.

His hands are almost too rough as he reaches down to grasp my shirt and yank it over my head. I copy him, and something rips. I don't care. Running my hands over his naked back, I shudder in lovely anticipation.

His eyes- oh god, that boy has beautiful eyes!- sparkle darkly as he drinks in the sight of my black-lace clad tits.

Our hands fumble in unison for a moment as he struggles with the clasp of my bra and I try to open his belt. He wins the impromptu contest, and throws my frivolous lingerie away from us with a triumphant exhalation.

Quickly his hands replace my bra, cupping and squeezing and gently massaging my breasts, before lightly traces circles around my nipple. His fingers leave burning lines of pleasure before giving a sharp pinch. I fall onto my back, flooded with fresh lust. He quickly follows my lead, swinging one leg over my torso so that he is straddling my hips.

A wickedly mischievous look flits across his face. I don't have time to anticipate the sudden bob of his head down to my breasts... the teasing kisses he plants between them... or the sudden firm bite he gives my right nipple. I shriek out in surprise- I can't help it- but I quickly stifle the noise. His hands continue to grope sensuously while his mouth explores, and I'm shocked at how incredible it feels. I feel a familiar warmth spreading in my lower body.

Twining my fingers through his hair, I show my approval by drawing his mouth to my other nipple. I'm rewarded with a dozen little hard bites, interspersed with teasing flicks of his tongue. He draws back slightly, only to lightly graze his teeth down each breast. It feels really fucking good, and elicits shivers of delight. By the time he has lavished each breast with equal attention, I am absolutely dripping with arousal.

I moan his name softly. Already I feel myself approaching an orgasm. This won't do; not just yet. I interrupt his ministrations by shoving my hands between us to finally open his belt, pull open the button of his jeans, and slowly push down the zipper. I slide my hand in, resting my palm on the bulge in his cotton briefs.

His cock gives an sudden jerk, and I feel something stirring hungrily inside me. Quickly he pulls off his jeans, then undoes mine. I shimmy them down to my knees and kick them away as he traces my hip bones with his fingertips.

My panties must be soaked through by now- I can almost smell my own arousal. He slides his hands behind me to squeeze both ass cheeks at once, forcing me to arch my back upwards. He is still straddling me, so our crotches grind together. The friction is unbearably nice.

My body screams for him; longs to to be filled and fucked and adored by him. I try to buck my hips upwards, but he stops me with a passionate kiss that steals my breath. Then he's moving downwards, kissing and biting a line towards my navel.

With two fingers he tests the wetness of my panties. He sighs appreciatively.

"Fuck, you're soaking..."

"Wet for you." I breath back at him. "I need you. Now."

He flashed a grin, then bites the lace covering that hides my pussy and drags my panties down with his teeth. The sight of his head between my legs is incredibly hot.

He discards his own underwear carelessly, then kneels over me and teases my pussy lips with the head of his cock. Slick with his own precum, he runs it up and down my wet folds. Teasing, tempting. It feels heavenly, but I'm going crazy with lust- I need more.

My hands cling to his shoulders. "Fuck me already, please-"

He cuts off my plea by finally thrusting deep into me. I gasp in pleasure. Over and over and over he fills me, and I find my hips willingly rising to meet his thrusts. The lovely feeling of fullness overpowers any discomfort. Our bodies combine perfectly. I am his.

As we slam together in sweaty passion, my mind turns over to pure carnal love. And then he permeates all my senses: he is all I can taste, and all I hear and see and smell and feel. His presence is all encompassing.

We're both getting closer. As his breathing becomes shaky, he drags his nails down my back. I feel angry red scratches blooming across my skin, but they only serve to accentuate the poignant imperfections of our perfect sex.

Thunder rolls in the distance, and rain starts to fall.

His cock pounds into my tightening pussy rhythmically, like the steady beat of a drum. With each thrust, the rhythm becomes more erratic, with the lovely friction increasing in a crescendo right up to the breaking point. I love him, but tonight we are not making love. We are fucking, and fucking hard; this is pure, undiluted lust. Our mutual need is stronger than any warm emotions.

He lets out one last uncontrollable gasp, and I feel his warm cum gushing into my core. The sensations sends me into my own earth-shattering climax. I moan slightly, which turns into a shriek. All of the built up tension inside me cracks and shatters at once, leaving me spasming and crashing down from a heady high. My back arches and pops as I ride out the waves of an incredibly strong orgasm, and fall gasping and shaking back to earth.

Dizzy from the natural orgasmic high, I barely notice the heavy rain falling down on our intertwined bodies. When our breathing slows and he finally pulls out, I whimper at the emptiness. He must feel it too, because he holds me close again and brushes my wet hair back from my face.

Thunder rolls in the distance. Together we lie in the pouring rain and hold each other close. Once again he kisses me, but this time it's lingering, sweet, gentle- a different kind of perfect.

(Author's Note: I have questions for y'all. First, how did everyone enjoy this? Did you, y'know, "have fun" with it? I really like the nameless protagonist trope, especially in erotica. Does anyone have any thoughts on this? Also- does anyone else have as much difficulty as I do in choosing which word to use when referring to man-bits and lady-parts? All the words seem either icky or immature. It's such a dilemma... Anyways. As always, reviews are adored because I am a conceited writer who wants to believe her work is somehow appreciated. Have a lovely day! -Dally)