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Sarahs Sweet Storm

{ It was time for the items from the last package; the instruction was brief...."Lose yourself in the storm." }

The weather forecast was a 97% chance of thunderstorms beginning at sundown, lasting most of the night. While everyone else in her firm was making useless complaints and grousing about ruined plans, Sarah felt a thrill. Smiling to herself, she hurried out of the office and finished her shopping with an urgent sense of purpose.

Unlocking the front door of her apartment she kicked off her shoes as she crossed the threshold, arms full with her purse, laptop bag and treats for the evening- a nice, Portuguese red wine, baguette, creamy soft and sharp aged cheeses and some other nibbly bits of tangy, savory, sour and sweet flavors. Friday nights are her favorite, the weekend stretching out before her, full of possibility, and this night was hers alone. With a hip check, the front door swung shut and officially started an evening scripted to pleasure all her senses. She set the bags down everywhere and the treats on the kitchen counter.

Immediately she shed her public skin to free her slim, almost muscular form. Slipping off her skirt, wiggling out of her panties, unbuttoning her light cotton blouse, she took notice of how the edges swayed back and forth across her shapely breasts, stroking her areola and nipples as she moved about. No bra today, it is her way to mark "casual Friday" on these warm, humid summer days. That simple liberation drives the guys and many of the gals at her firm to distraction, along with her well toned derriere, athletic physique, pretty features and a sensuality that acts like a radiant source to those open to receiving her transmissions.

Her clothes lay on the floor where she dropped them, following her into the kitchen like stepping stones in a stream. With just her blouse on, the long tails revealed only a narrow strip from her slender neck, between her breasts, her small, innie, belly button, and ending up with a vertical strip of her closely trimmed, soft, blonde bush. Looking down, she thought that might make a nice photo to add to the collection she shares with some select, on-line friends.

She unpacked her goodies and set right to preparing them, slicing the cheeses in thin strips so they would melt on her tongue, pulling the bread apart, feeling the softness between her fingers as she pinched small pieces of the airy inside, putting small bits in her mouth to taste the tang and then the sweet of the sourdough, feeling the crunch of the crust, closing her eyes to focus on the feel and the flavor of each bite.

Pulling the cork on the wine she poured a bit, took in the aroma and tipping the glass she drank in a small amount, holding the deep red liquid on her tongue, lightly breathing in through parted lips to blossom the flavor of the first taste, then poured some more. She followed, to the letter, the instructions that had come with the five packages, which had arrived every few days for the past two weeks. Each one disclosed an item or two inside and a small numbered card with instructions to be followed in order. The first instruction was to fully savor all of her senses throughout her every day activities. The effect was to set a faint arousal that bobbed from the subconscious up into the waking mind at interesting times.

The item in the first package was the note itself, written on hand made paper with soft edges and long curled fibers on two edges like fringe. The note explained what and how to prepare and when she would be able to put the items to use. The last note and package had arrived several days ago and she had been patiently waiting for a stormy night to be able to enjoy the evening laid out for her, being a Friday doubled the pleasure.

She drew the edges of the paper across her skin in the prescribed places- back and forth across the insides of each wrist, along the sternum in the valley between her breasts, on the inside of her elbows and behind her knees, along the tops of her feet, and many places she had not thought would excite as they did. The fiber fringe delivered a sensation between a tickle and a very light scratch; she felt the early stirrings of her arousal. She slowly finished her light meal, taking in the tastes and textures; the wine had fully opened up revealing its silky blend of flavors- light berry fruits, earth and distant traces of vanilla. She also enjoyed the slight buzz that helped keep the week's work and worries out of her mind, allowing a deeper focus on her senses.

Following the instructions of the second package she lit a few candles, unscented, drew a warm bath, pouring out the item, a envelope with a home made blend of bath salts containing flowers and herbs, into the turbulent water, the salts were special blend with aromatic scents, that reminded her of a walk through a field of wild flowers on a dry, late summer afternoon. Dropping her blouse to the floor, she slipped into the water, laid back and, moved her hands over herself feeling the slippery sensation from the water, the salts and her natural body oils. The instructions directed her to explore, move slowly, tour the scripted erogenous places, discover her own and wake her familiar pleasure spots. Sarah spent a while taking in the sensations, mildly hypnotized by the soft light dancing on the walls, the aroma of the bath, the relaxation of her muscles balanced by the counterpoise of the sensual pleasure from her explorations.

She thought about the new pleasure points she had discovered on her own body that had been hiding from her so long. The water was starting to become too cool, so she rose up out of the bath, dried off in a large, thick, all cotton, terry bath towel, as instructed, and padded to the bedroom letting the towel drop to the floor in the hallway. She was now following the instructions of the third package; she had dried herself, but left a scant amount of moisture on her skin. She lit three more non-scented candles on the high chest of drawers to cast a light glow on to the bed, opened up the curtains and raised the window. The bed was turned down and the sheets, all cotton, were washed, fresh and crisp, no dryer sheets, no soap scent, the instructions were firm- no artificial aromas or tastes, natural fibers. A sprig of dried, French Lavender from the package lay on her pillow and the scent from the flower mixed with the aroma of the rain-moistened breeze began to carry her off to another world. Lying on the bed she felt the smoothness and the slight rasp of the sheets on her back. She made certain to remain open to all her senses.

The breeze lightly chilled as it dried her skin, stiffening her nipples and waking her as she nearly lulled to sleepy comfort during the bath. As instructed, Sarah took the Lavender sprig and dragged it across the ridge line of her well defined collar bones, circling around the contour of her breasts, coiling in to her stretching nipples, then reversing outward to reach the curvature under those firm full breasts, down each side from under her arms tracing her rib cage, in a lazy S pattern across her stomach, up and down the length on inside of her thighs, along the under side of her wrists over the top and the inside of the arch of each foot- all the directed and discovered places visited during the bath. The rain outside pattered on the ground, lightning flashed and the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance.

Sarah faithfully followed the instructions and had spent a while exciting herself first with the Lavender sprig, then followed the same pattern with a new camel hair artists brush and then with a fine silk scarf, items that had come in package four. She took in the different sensations on each tour that followed the same pattern. Her excitement slowly building, instinctively paced with the storm that was rolling ever closer. After some time, she set the items aside.

The rain intensified the curtains began to flutter as she slid her fingers across her skin, silky from the bath, sending them down between her legs, feeling the slight bristle of her pubic hair, then for the first time that evening, opening her labia, her own moistness was increasing as was the rain outside. She did not need to read the instructions as she had committed them to memory, rolling her fingers over and spreading the petals of her love flower, dipping inside, feeling the fleshy contours of the firm hills that rose up along the valley of her delight, then softly squeezing her pleasure bud. First the right then the left hand would plunge down and come up to her lips to bring tastes of her slippery nectar. With moist, slick fingers she tugged, squeezed and circled the nipple of one then the other breast, stopping at the many pleasure points on the hand's travel back. The storm was closer now, increasing in force. Lighting banished the soft flickering candle light and thunder punctuated Sarah's throaty moans as the tension from the long, slow increase of her arousal had nearly consumed her senses. The balance of control began to swing from mind to body.

It was time for the items from the last package; the instruction was brief...."Lose yourself in the storm." Without slowing the rhythm or breaking the spell, Sarah reached over to the bedside table and took the items, finally being able to press them into service. In her right hand she took a long, smooth, spiraled glass piece and studied it, glowing the color of the candle light, and then magnifying the flashes from outside her window. It seemed like it was taking on energy from outside. At its base, about the thickness of three of her fingers squeezed together, slightly longer than her hand, tapering to an inviting arc. She accepted the invitation, and first brought it to her lips, working her tongue around the smooth contours and wetting it as she slowly slid it in and out of her mouth. Pulling the fingers of her left hand out of herself at a measured pace, she lazily slid them up over her hipbones and along her side, feeling the moistness on her skin as they traveled upward. The glass glided downward, plunging into her slippery wetness in a second, the coolness of it brought a pulse of energy as she felt it inside, delivering her to a higher pleasure plateau.

The second item was now in her left hand, the shape, and twice the size of a robin's egg, it was a curious thing. She had studied it more than any other that had arrived, discovering a small soft spot on the bottom, that when pressed would reveal its purpose, emitting a low hum and mild vibration. She awoke the egg while moving the glass in and around now her fully awakened sex. Without realizing it, the pace and flow of her movements had completely matched the storm's surging and slowing in an elemental rhythm. The egg hummed along all the pleasure points on its travel downward. It seemed both hours ago and as recent as a blink in time since discovering those places.

Both hands were working in ebb and flow cycle between her legs, at what was now the center of Sarah's sensual universe. It was as though she were the one driving the storm. Bolts and thunderclaps outside matched her thrusts and arches. The winds whipped through the window as if drawn in with her quickened breathing, pleasantly cooling her now heated body. The glass sliding inside of her while the egg buzzed and danced like an urgent bumblebee around her engorged pleasure bud.

A bright flash of light seemed to come from inside the room and the near instantaneous thunder clap reverberated in the floor and rattled the windowpanes, the height of the storm arrived and so Sarah's climax. From deep within her, waves of pleasure pulsed with the rain now beating the windows, spraying through the screen and soaking the carpet. Lost in her own storm, her thrusts and shudders followed with breathy cries and deep, dry-throated moans, she was enveloped in a cloud charged with her own sexual energy, which continued to surge as time stayed suspended. Only when she could no longer will herself to move, her entire body tingling, did the cloud dissipate. beats and breaths eventually slowed to their natural pace. Sarah had no idea how long she had been on this journey or when the storm had passed.

The candles were out, the room was silent, the incoming breeze was slight, the skies were clear and a sliver of the moon was in view through the window, casting just enough light to paint everything in blue-gray tones. Sarah rolled out of bed, put on her silk robe, walking on the fabric stepping-stones of the bath towel and clothes, she took slow graceful strides through the apartment to the kitchen, still savoring every sense. She poured some wine in her glass, picked up the phone and pressed the numbers on the glowing keypad, it was a request not an instruction that had come with the last note and she was glad to honor it.

"Mmmmm.. that was a sweet - storm loves" her voice on the line was somewhere between a purr and dry rasp, she took a slow drink and she could hear the smile in his voice, as he said they were both on the line, ready to hear how she weathered the evening.

For the pleasure of Sweet Sarah, from Allen Marks.