“No way, Annie, you should have brought your own umbrella.”
“But it’s chucking it down! Look at me – I’m soaked already.”
“Didn’t you read the weather forecast? They said there were going to be short, thundery rainstorms today. Like this one.”
“But it’s baking hot,” I moaned. “It’s the middle of bloody August. How is it raining?”
“That’s just when you do get short, thundery rainstorms. It’s because of that unusually high pressure front coming in from the Atlantic. If you’d watched the weather last night instead of arsing around on Twitter, you’d know.”
“I was not arsing around.” I said, flicking my wet hair out of my eyes. “I was doing something important.”
“Yeah, like tweeting Rita Ora. You are such a celebrity whore, you know. Just because she replied to that tweet of yours about liking broccoli, you think she’s your best friend forever.”
“Look, can’t we find somewhere to shelter,” I grumbled, trying to change the subject. “Or at least let me squeeze up under your brolly. Just look at me.”
“I am; you really shouldn’t have worn that t-shirt, especially without a bra.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I said, looking down at my chest. My tight white t-shirt had gone totally see-through and I might as well not have been wearing it for all the good it was doing. My breasts and the darker circles of my nipples were totally visible through the thin cotton, which clung seductively to every curve. My short skirt wasn’t much better, moulding itself to my thighs and hips, although at least it hadn’t gone transparent.
“Yep, if only we could find a wet t-shirt contest for you to enter, you’d be a shoo-in.”
“No wonder all those people walking past have been staring at me,” I wailed. “I thought they felt sorry for me – they were obviously just ogling my boobs!”
It was that very heavy thundery rain, falling straight down, and I couldn’t have been more soaked if I’d jumped fully-clothed into a swimming pool. I’d have laughed if I hadn’t been so cross with myself. The galling thing was that I knew I was in the wrong: I should have checked the weather before coming out, and it wouldn’t have been a problem to put a small umbrella or my folding waterproof into my bag. So I couldn’t really blame anyone else, which only made it worse.
“Come on, make room for me under there,” I said, pressing my wet body against his as I tried to get under the umbrella.
I felt his cheek against mine, and heard him whisper in my ear. “You know, you really do look hot like that. It makes me want to fuck you.”
That came as a bit of a surprise, but he was turned on, too: I could feel the swell of his cock inside his trousers, pressing against my leg. I put my hand on it, and massaged it gently, feeling it stiffen even more.
“Come on then, big boy, let’s get back to your flat,” I giggled.
“I don’t think I can wait that long, I want you now.”
He placed his hand on my breast and began to knead it gently through my wet shirt. I could feel my nipple start to harden, and suddenly he pushed his hand up underneath my shirt and cradled my bare breast. I whimpered slightly, aroused by his touch.
God, he wasn’t usually like this in public. I don’t think I’d ever heard him speak with such lust in his voice. I felt a surge of desire; the feel of his hand on my sensitive nipple made me want him too. I pressed myself against him, as his other hand moved up my bare thigh, under my skirt, stroking the front of my panties, then urgently pushing them to one side. I gasped, leaning further into him as his fingers parted my labia, then slipped right up inside my slippery tight vagina. I felt them curving inside me, tickling my soft spongy walls.