Outside, it's raining almost hail. She can’t concentrate. She’s sat at her desk, legs held closely together, biting her lip and imagining that it’s him. She does this until the pain is unbearable, releases, and then savours the momentary cold, perfect ache. She’s tingling all over and outside is real hail now.
Later, there’s no wind. Her friends don’t know it, but she is now pierced in six places, all of them for him. She sent him photographs in her last letter. She closes her eyes to the cold grey evening and explores each one in turn, reaching orgasm effortlessly. She whispers his name to make it harder. A wind comes up and brushes across her face. It smells of the lilac tree outside her house or him, she can’t decide.
Afterward, she lies there catching her breath, for a while daydreaming in the billowing clouds. The wind has picked up strongly. She sits up, rubs her face back into life and flicks on the television set. He smiles at her and she smiles back. He tells her there will be more hail tomorrow. The blind clatters against the bedroom window but she doesn't look.
Later, there’s no wind. Her friends don’t know it, but she is now pierced in six places, all of them for him. She sent him photographs in her last letter. She closes her eyes to the cold grey evening and explores each one in turn, reaching orgasm effortlessly. She whispers his name to make it harder. A wind comes up and brushes across her face. It smells of the lilac tree outside her house or him, she can’t decide.
Afterward, she lies there catching her breath, for a while daydreaming in the billowing clouds. The wind has picked up strongly. She sits up, rubs her face back into life and flicks on the television set. He smiles at her and she smiles back. He tells her there will be more hail tomorrow. The blind clatters against the bedroom window but she doesn't look.
1 comment:
This really is awesome, as in awe-inspiring. I hope the weather will be a series.
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