Dragonslut's Blog

Tales of a Hyper-sexual Spy

The Girl in the Storm

It was a Monday night; there was a student night on in a bar in town, which was our target for the evening. We never made it. We started at one of the university bars. It was the same one I’d met Bethany in. My friends and I were all dripping wet having decided to walk down in torrential rain. My friends began chatting to girls in a corner while I sat there watching drinks, shivering and thinking.

Some other girls started screaming behind me, so I turned to look and a ratty little man was dragging one of them by her hair across the room. He didn’t see me coming. I punched him in the head, throwing my whole body weight into it. He went straight down, knocked clean out.

I hadn’t had a fight since high school, not until I’d shot Rory two days earlier. But this was the least impressive fight I’d had all weekend. So I sat back down to finish my drink and think about Bethany with the rose and the pistols. It was all very matter of fact to me that punch, the violence of it was casual, the punch beautiful.

The doorman threw the little rat man out and my friends missed it. But she saw and her name was Ally Goodman…

She was staring at me from across the bar, all apple blonde hair and eyes blue like alexandrite. There was something edgy about her, something of the wild and windswept night…

She rocked a black leather jacket, over the top of a blue dress, her boots black like her jacket, her eyes blue like her dress. There was something about those eyes. Her pupils had dilated; my take on it was that she wanted to get fucked hard, but was too much of a lady to say so.

Now it wasn’t that I didn’t love Bethany. It’s that I’m badly behaved and like badly behaved girls. Girls who are graceful, elegant, intelligent, sexual and badly behaved to boot, those girls, the ones who like to hide how bad they are…

I beckoned her over; she came like she was innocent. She was nothing of the sort. It was her eye contact that gave it away. She had one thought in her mind. We’ve all been in that mood before haven’t we reader? Ally was no different, still didn’t mean she wouldn’t be picky. She was a woman, so this wasn’t a done deal by any stretch of the imagination.

‘You’re staring,’ I told her.

‘You’re very ugly,’ she said.

‘My bruises will heal.’

‘You’re wet,’ she said.

‘I’m not the only one.’

‘Do you hit a lot of people?’

‘Do you always get off on it?’ Her mouth dropped open.

‘I did not get off on it!’ She slapped my wrist playfully. I gripped her arm tight. Her eyes flashed. ‘Who are you?’

Smiling and cocking my head I let her go: ‘Just a writer.’

‘I love writers, I love poems.’

‘Prove it,’ I said.

‘To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wildflower, to hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour,’ she said quoting William Blake. I was curious; it didn’t take much, I could smell the lavender in her shampoo. She wasn’t just pretty, she knew her words too. That mattered to me.

‘Your turn,’ she said.

‘My turn for what?’

‘Poetry you ugly man.’

‘I see you lady looking good…I don’t know about you… but I think we should. What? What do you expect? A light shining out of the depths?…A sublime divinity?…when you speak from the heart I see a star that never sets…lady of light…love me and hold me tight…fuck with me tonight…’

‘Tell me more…’ she smiled, words mattered to her too. I paused more often and spoke slowly.

‘I see through the mists and the shadows of your soul…passion, fire and flaming coal…only desire makes people whole…skin upon skin…flesh upon flesh…that tender touch…that morning caress…it sends shivers up and down your spine…I see you lady looking so fine…as prettier girl as I ever did see…an archangel of feminine divinity…’

Ally’s pupils dilated again, she really did love poetry. She shared my passion for words. I gripped her by the scruff of her neck and leaned in for a slow and tender kiss. Her mouth was cool and tasted of long island iced tea.

‘That was the best opening line I ever heard,’ she said. ‘Who wrote that?’

‘I did.’


‘I’m not lying,’ I kissed her again.

‘I’m Ally Goodman,’ she said between kisses.

‘Yeah,’ I said under my breath.

There was electricity between us; we both felt it right away. Our kisses were hard, the passion sudden and too steamy for public so I grabbed her wrist and dragged her out of the bar. It being a university there was a corridor outside with a photo booth. I shoved her inside and drew the curtain.

We stood. Her nails scratched the back of my neck like claws. Don’t you love it when someone scratches your neck? Again we kissed hard and her lips were wet…

‘Tell me you don’t feel it,’ I said pinning her to a wall. She gasped.

‘Feel what?’

‘Tell me you don’t feel a strange intensity with me.’

‘I feel it.’

It was bad to steal Bethany’s line, like it should have been forbidden. It was a guilty pleasure, like a glass of whisky before bed. I don’t care. I loved it. I am bad. There’s a part of you that’s bad too, isn’t there reader? Don’t worry about it, we’re all human.

Ally pushed me down on the plastic stool and sat facing me on my lap…murmuring lovers sounds as I kissed her neck…and bit her earlobe…she unbuttoned the cleavage of her dress…unclipped her front opening bra…as I touched her chest she pulled her legs apart…but then she grabbed my hand so I could feel the pounding of her heart.

‘It’s not the punch, it’s the poem,’ she half lied, ‘I love poems.’

It was enchanting; a few delicately placed words had set her heart racing. It’s the little things that are important. When she was being serious Ally would put your hand on her heart. Often for a few words which I loved to write. It was a lot more charming than the guns and fists of Bethany’s world.

It was my reckoning I could be murdered soon. So right there I decided to live at a higher intensity. There was no point in holding back, not for me, not with Bethany being a bitch, not with the threat of death. To me Ally might have been my life’s last breath…so screw Beth.

I kissed Ally’s lips again, holding my hand firmly over her heart, feeling its rhythm. There was a very sudden intensity with her, maybe it was her appreciation of words, maybe it was the way she looked at me and maybe it was because it was a bad thing to do, I don’t know; I just wanted it. She was my audience, a muse, a spark, a fuse. I wanted her like a junkie wants drugs.

Ally closed her dress and leaned over to whisper in my ear. ‘Not here,’ she playfully licked my face and laughing left the booth. Like the cat that got the fucking cream I followed her. She sauntered towards the exit swaying her hips in the way girls naturally do.

It seemed Ally felt it too. The water soaked her hair, but unlike most girls she didn’t care. Instead she twirled, her arms outstretched, catching raindrops on her tongue. I copied her. Laughing she kicked half a puddle at me.


I kicked a puddle back at her.

‘Right Mister, I’m gonna get you,’ she said putting up her fists.

I caught her play punch with ease, and kissed her again. We could still hear the music from the bar and we began to dance in the November rain. Who knows how long that lasted, it was strange. There was a sound of far off thunder. Water droplets formed bell shapes as they ran down her skin. Everything about her seemed to draw me in. It was that happy sinking feeling I’d had with Bethany, that sweet sin…I got off on it. I kissed her mouth again.

My hand traced the arch of her back…the cool bare skin of her thighs…her firm legs…I pinched her bum as I kissed the lids of her eyes.

‘Hey Mister!’

‘No tights?’ I asked.

‘I don’t like them.’

‘Aren’t you cold?’

‘No, give me another poem.’

I pulled her away from the street lights that lit the car park, onto the darker half-light of the muddy grass. I placed her back to an oak tree and leaned in for another kiss. She leaned away.

‘No ugly,’ she said with a smile. ‘I want a poem.’

I brushed some raindrops from her face, slowly my hand slid under her dress as I said. ‘Now come on…come on…you turn me on…you are the mythical one…the girl from kingdom come…your eyes…your eyes eclipse the sun…’

It was half true; her eyes were shining blue and bright, shining ever like alexandrite. She knew it too, that’s why she wore blue. She blushed as my hand slipped inside her panties and her mouth kissed mine…her heart beat hard inside her chest…my fingers wet inside her…her apple blonde hair dripping from the storm…she gasped and bit her lip again and again.

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‘Stop there’s people,’ she said. I took her hand and we started walking. I licked my wet finger…you could taste her desire…you could taste her passion fruit body butter…lord knows what the little minx had been doing with that…she was a bad girl…you could feel the rain lashing your face…it was good to be alive in this place, reader.

‘Let me,’ she said…putting my finger in her mouth…she mimed a more erotic act…and like it always seems to do in passionate encounters time slipped further out of my mind.

There in the storm, as her mouth moved up and down my finger, it seemed as if we were the only two people in the world. You know how it felt. You remember when it was just the two of you and nothing else mattered. It was as though you lived in a bubble. It was a quick surrender; we threw caution to the wind, we were living at a higher intensity. At least that’s how it seemed to me and Ally.

We were dripping with rain…and desire. There was something between us. It’s not a feeling you would get if you were using common sense or trying to be normal, you have to let go…just let go. There was a wild happy madness to the feeling. So more fool the sane, sensible people, who never let themselves get carried away in an experience like this. Those who never feel the bliss, the bliss that the universe can offer when you surrender yourself to its madness…

Goddamit! But her sucking my finger had turned me on…we were at the back of someone’s house now…her back was to the wet bricks…her hand inside my jeans…the buttons undone…my fingers back inside her…she looked for other people over my shoulder…lightening flashed…thunder crashed…we carried on…our moans…our breathing…the wild rain…the power of the storm…made it seem like the Earth herself was at one with us…maybe it wasn’t madness…maybe it was real passion.

‘Let’s not go inside, let’s just feel it.’

I knew what she was talking about right away…I kissed at her neck as she felt me go hard…I pulled her panties to one side and lifted her against the wall…I was inside her…there was friction between my skin and her panties…it burned…we kissed…our mouths…our lips…the rocking of her hips…

We gasped for air…we gazed in each other’s eyes…the rain lashed…the lightning flashed and the thunderclap followed right on top of it…the heart of the storm…we were sodden…dripping wet…my biceps strained hard to hold her in place…a windswept stormy night…dark and powerful like a raging ocean…


‘Fuck’s sake!’ I swore under my breath and buttoned my fly, my dick pushing against the denim.

‘Just wait…wait,’ she blushed, ‘they’ll pass.’

Now you could feel the electric in atmosphere, high up from the storm clouds to the ground. There was a tingling feeling… like static on your skin…my hand under her jacket scratching her back…every second seemed like an eternity as we waited for them to pass…rain hurtled down…

Then they were gone… I threw Ally onto the grass…I knelt in the mud between her legs…she wrapped her thighs around me and rolled us over…the mud covered us as she opened my jeans again… she pulled me inside her…and rose and fell above me…again and again.

It seemed then as though we were all one thing…me…Ally…the mud and the thunder…the wetness inside and outside…rain and sweat on her skin…it seemed to last forever…her long blonde hair caressing my neck…the smell of rain, of lavender and earth…the sound of thunder drifting away…Ally moving faster as though she wanted to hang on to the storm…

I remember her dress pulled down…I remember lightly biting her nipple…I remember her leaning far back…I remember her face as she said she was coming…she seemed surprised, her eyes alive…but I wasn’t done…I rolled back on top of her.

‘No…please,’ she said. ‘Sensitive…sensitive,’ she clawed at the ground and grabbed fistfuls of turf…she splattered one weakly against my chest…her hands on my face rubbing mud into my skin.

‘For God’s sake, hurry up and come hard…all I can see is purple.’

I put a hand over her mouth to stop her chatter less we were heard…I went as fast and hard as I could…her bum sank into mud and I came inside her…I felt so alive it was hard to breathe…for a few seconds it was as though I could feel the marrow in my bones…

More tomorrow xxx


One comment on “The Girl in the Storm

  1. dougstuber
    February 11, 2015


    Hamburgers are fun to eat.
    Always are a special treat.
    But what of vegetarians who can’t
    Enjoy the stuff?
    Is there room to stroke the womb
    While dancing buff to buff?
    Or is the bride open so wide
    She gains enlightened bliss,
    While jokers jam and smokers cram
    Each other fist to fist.

    Us vegetarians can eat hamburgers too!
    It’s just a matter of who you meet
    And with whom you do your do.
    And when she cums,
    It’s because your tongue
    Can be soft or attack.
    So kick back and enjoy the rack
    Of a red-headed Hamburger girl.
    And her redheaded friends, who, until the end
    Love to give new lovers a whirl.

    Now she lives in Hamburg
    And braves the winter snow.
    Each time you eat hamburgers
    Your penis starts to grow.
    Which makes you think that someday
    Your heart will sing the praises
    Of juicy pink hamburgers
    You devour in three stages,
    And red-headed party burgers
    Who defy mere mortal phases.


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This entry was posted on December 18, 2014 by in desire, erotica, love, romance, sex and tagged , , , , , , , , , .
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