In hand

03 Aug


Rain has just started to fall

It is a hot, close, velvet summer’s night at the end of a sweltering, oppressive August day. Three hours ago the sun sank overripe behind the suffering trees. Midnight arrived steamily, with thunder rumbling like rumour in its wake. The stars are invisible behind a thick blanket of inky cloud. There is no moon. The air is heavy with the fragrance of honeysuckle and roses, and alive with the coming storm.

I stand alone on the terrace in the dark garden letting the new, warm breeze ruffle my hair and tug at my thin shirt. I have been unable to escape the heat all day. I can smell the coming deluge. I feel the electricity. It raises the hairs on the back of my neck.

Suddenly the black night is illuminated as if by a photo flash. A beat of a strobe light. For an instant the world is stark black and white. A brief, shocked silence and then the crack of thunder. Loud. Primal. A battlefield in the heavens.


A monsoon. A deluge. A flood. Hissing, sizzling, pissing, lashing down.

It is like being in an almost cold shower fully clothed. I stand my ground and am soaked within a minute. And yet despite the falling temperature I am still burning like a furnace inside.

I walk out barefoot onto the middle of the lawn. Past the sleeping sundial and the overflowing bird bath. Finding my way through familiarity and the brief, ghostly-white illuminations

I undo the buttons of my sodden shirt and strip it from my shoulders, dropping it to the grass. I tug at the buckle of my brown leather belt and slide down the zip of my blue jeans, black with moisture. I have to peel them off me, the material clinging to my thighs. I slip down my stretchy black boxers. They lie at my feet like a dead bird.

As if delighted by my nakedness the intensity of the rain increases. It wants to punish me. It falls so heavily that it stings me. My skin tingles and the water runs down my body in cool rivers. Over my shoulders, chest and back. Over my belly. Into my dark curls. Down my slender, muscular thighs.

I close my eyes as the lightning splits the night. Thunder booms and crashes overhead. My pulse has quickened, my mouth is dry. There is a growing ache within me.

I stretch my arms upwards. Drawing the tempest to me.

I realise that I am hard. Swollen. Proud. Erect.

And as the storm breaks around me in fury I give myself up to its elemental power.

I take myself purposefully in hand.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from brandinisays



Posted by on August 3, 2014 in Erotica, Still Life


Tags: , , , , , ,

31 responses to “In hand

  1. suzisummer

    August 3, 2014 at 7:07 pm

    Powerful and so erotic! 🙂


  2. Desiree G

    August 3, 2014 at 7:08 pm

    Wow … so very hot. You allowed the reader to be a shameless voyeur in this most erotic scene. Thank you.


  3. thepaintedladyuk

    August 3, 2014 at 7:09 pm

    Oh Signore! This is stunningly evocative, such descriptive beauty has made me want to dance in the rain, bello!


  4. redklwr2006 Kym

    August 3, 2014 at 9:50 pm

    The imagery you have created is incredible… So sensual and powerful at the same time


  5. Enigmatic Amor

    August 3, 2014 at 9:57 pm

    Oh, to be the rain!


  6. georgeforfun

    August 4, 2014 at 6:51 pm

    Reblogged this on georgeforfun.


  7. ~ Sadie ~

    August 7, 2014 at 6:57 am

    WOW – you are such a wonderful writer – really! The emotion, imagery, narrative – just brilliant! I really liked this. I’d love to know what happened before this – that day, week, month – what prompted this behavior, state of mind and reaction? I could visually see this as I was reading it – IT would MAKE a GREAT scene in a movie – REALLY!!! 🙂


  8. mariatestarosa

    August 15, 2014 at 8:26 pm

    A vivid reminder of the sensuality of every moment if we stop time in that way we can by memorizing every sight, sound, taste, smell, and feeling.


  9. newsubmissivestranger

    September 4, 2014 at 2:30 pm

    There is nothing in nature so arousing as a storm


  10. Madhura

    September 6, 2014 at 5:20 pm

    So sensuous, erotic. Rain always touches me this way..
    Very beautifully written…


  11. noirfifre

    November 16, 2014 at 6:42 pm

    Rain is the ish. There are few things in life which comforts like the rain.


  12. sirensong1208

    July 1, 2015 at 5:34 pm

    There is something very freeing about the rain. This is quite evocative and erotic…makes me wish for the rain.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Leslie Meeks

    July 1, 2015 at 6:13 pm

    I know I have read and commented on this before, but I find this so erotic Mr. D. One of my favorites.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Ranterina (@ranterina)

    July 1, 2015 at 7:42 pm

    This is so so beautiful. I have never heard, read or imagined such also could be erotic. Such could be the strength of acceptance of merging with nature. Thunderous and beautiful 🙂

    Liked by 1 person


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