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Message-ID: <29587asstr$985727402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Beltorion@aol.com
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Subject: {ASSM} Coming In From Out Of The Rain (M/F, romantic, slight D/S)
Date: Tue, 27 Mar 2001 16:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Coming In From Out Of The Rain (M/F, romantic, slight D/S)

      It was a miserable late afternoon.   Gray and overcast and cold all 
day, when I got home it was just misting a little bit of rain.   But even 
before I got out of the parking lot into the stairwell it was raining harder. 
 Soon the wind was picking up, and the rain was a torrent.  No thunder and 
lightning, just a damp cold steady drizzle.  It might even freeze tonight, 
and then tomorrow would be a mess of ice.
     I shivered, and rummaged in the kitchen.  At least I was well stocked 
and didn't need to go outside to the store.   I microwaved some chicken soup 
from a can.   I watched the rain and was glad I wasn't out in it.   Picking 
up the unread newspaper, I scanned over what was happening elsewhere.   
According to the Weather section, many more days of this were in store; a 
hurricane was off-shore, blowing all of this far inland.  
      Interrupting my reverie at that point, came a weak pounding on the 
door.    
      I opened the door, and there she stood in the stairwell.   Dripping wet 
hardly describes it.   She was soaked to the skin.   Her hair was soaked; she 
looked like a drowned rat.  Rivulets of cold water ran from her hair across 
her face.   She was pale, and shivering, teeth chattering. Her eyes bigger 
than life.  Nose running in an unbecoming way. Such a picture of misery that 
I almost laughed; not at her discomfort, but because she looked like an 
orphan out of a Dickens story or something.   Her blouse was soaked through 
completely, molding tightly to her.   Her jeans were like cold stiff armor.
      "I...my car wouldn't start, in the parking lot, and it was just a few 
miles away...I didn't think you'd be home, I was going to use the key you 
gave me..." she stammered, still shivering.   I knew what had happened.  She 
loved to walk in the rain, and when it was just a faint mist, that was 
acceptable.  But somewhere in the three mile hike, the mist had changed to a 
steady rain, and then a downpour, and the wind had picked up, cutting like a 
knife.   I put my arms around her.  She was chilled to the bone.
       "Shhhh." I said, "Don't say a word."
       I ran off, ticking the thermostat up 5 degrees, and came back with a 
couple of big thirsty towels.  I took her purse from her shoulder, and set it 
down on the entranceway tile.  It seemed fairly watertight, hopefully the 
contents weren't too wet.  I ran a towel over her head, through her hair, and 
vigorously rubbed it to get at least some of the moisture out.   I dried off 
her face,  I moved upwards, drying the rivulets where they still extended 
from her hair. Using one corner of the towel, I wiped the combination of 
water and snot beneath her nose.   Then I balled up the towel and threw it in 
the corner.
      Quickly and nimbly, my fingers worked the buttons on her soaked blouse. 
 It was clinging to her like wet paper-maiche.  I shrugged it off and hung it 
on the doorknob.  Grabbing the second towel, I furiously rubbed it over her 
shoulders, her back, down her arms, across her belly.  I grabbed each hand 
between my own and rubbed it briskly, to get some warmth back into them.  Now 
she was just wearing a bra from the waist up.
    I knelt down and unlaced one tennis shoe.  Grasped the back of her ankle 
and lifted her foot out of it, like a scene from Cinderella in reverse.  
Repeated with the other shoe.  Peeled her wet socks off.   Then I unbuttoned 
her jeans, and yanked them down.  I didn't do this sensually, I did it 
quickly, forcefully, a task to be done.  Soon the wet stiff jeans were on the 
floor, and I maneuvered her out of them.  Now I briskly rubbed up and down 
her legs with the towel, then her bare feet, then set it on the floor beneath 
her to soak up the excess water.  Now I stood.  She was dry now in just her 
bra and panties, and her teeth weren't chattering, she wasn't shaking.  But 
she was still obviously cold.  She opened her mouth to say something.  I put 
a finger to her lips.  "Shhhh.  Not a word." I said again.
      In one move I picked her up, and then, tossed her up a little to 
reposition her weight.  One arm under her knees, another behind her back.  
She clung to me, and put her head and damp hair against my chest and shoulder.
      I carried her through the living room, and into the hallway.  Careful 
around the corners; you can bash someone's head against the doorway trying to 
be romantic!   I set her down in the bathroom, on the big throw rug.
      I turned on the bathtub, adjusted the water, put my hand under it, 
adjusted it again until there was just a little more heat, a little more bite 
to it.  Then I stoppered the tub and let it begin to fill.
      She was sitting on the rug in her bra and panties, watching me with 
those big eyes.  I grabbed another towel and again gave her a vigorous 
rubdown with it.  Almost as an afterthought as I rubbed her back with the 
towel, I undid her bra and made it disappear.  Now, her breasts exposed, I 
moved to her front and rubbed the towel all over her breasts and tummy.  
Moved back to the hollow just below her neck and above her breastbone, where 
somehow I'd missed some damp before...or more rivulets had dripped out of her 
hair, over her jaw line and down.
      Now I pushed her onto her back, the weight on her shoulder blades, and, 
in less time then it takes to describe it, grabbed her by the hips, peeled 
her panties off, and yanked; off her ass, down her legs, over her knees, as 
they descended, I urged her knees and feet together to make the passage 
easier.  Once they were completely removed, I tossed them onto the sink.  
Now, lifting one leg in the air, I toweled it carefully, then repeated up her 
other leg, starting with her bare foot and ending with the towel rubbing in 
the crack of her ass.  Then up, vigorously between her legs, into her pussy 
hair, which had been trim but was getting a bit bushier.  Finally I 
delicately rubbed around her inner thighs, letting the towel create some 
delicious friction there.  
      I checked the tub.  Still a few minutes to go.  I lowered my head 
gently over hers, kissed her forehead.  She closed her eyes, and I kissed 
them too.  Down over the nose, and then I locked my mouth on hers.  Now 
lower, until I took one breast in my hand, and took the other breast's nipple 
in my mouth.  Her nipples were hard, from the recent cold or from my towel 
friction.   She gasped and ran her hands, idle until now, through my hair.   
Then I slid lower, my mouth going between her breasts, across her belly, 
lingering briefly on her belly button, and then between her legs.  With two 
hands I spread her pussy, and then just delicately visited various areas.   
Really little more than a hello kiss.
      Now the tub was full, and I shut off the water.  Tested it.   Pretty 
hot...maybe a little too hot...but I think she'd get used to it.  I stood her 
up, and then led her by the hand until she stepped into the tub.  Then she 
lowered herself.   At the point where her ass and pussy went below the 
waterline, she jumped involuntarily, and rose up a few inches, before 
settling back down again.       She stretched out, now just her knees and 
head and the tips of her breasts protruding.  But, because I'd forgotten to 
put in bubble bath... I had some, somewhere...the water was clear and I could 
see her nude body, displayed for me.
      I left the room and got a plastic pitcher.  Returning, I quickly 
stripped off my clothes, and then got in the tub behind her, sitting on the 
edge.  I put my hands behind her back, and raised her up to a sitting 
position.   Filling the pitcher with bathwater, I poured it over her head.  
Tilting her head back so that I poured just above her forehead, and it 
cascaded though her hair.   I did it again, running my free hand through the 
hair.  Then I set down the pitcher and got out the shampoo.  Massaged it into 
her scalp, rubbing it through her hair until it was a big mass of foam.  Then 
another pitcher, and rinsed it out.   And then, repeat.  Just like the 
shampoo instructions.    She kept her eyes closed and smiled.   
      Now I soaped up a big bath sponge, and ran it over her shoulders, down 
her arms, down her back, across shoulder blades, then up and down, following 
the backbone, and then the rest of her back.  On to the sides, until soon I 
was reaching around, rubbing the sponge over her chest, and soaping up her 
breasts.   
      Then down under the waterline, where I gently but firmly rubbed the 
sponge between her legs.  Such a delicate friction, and different from 
fingers there.  With my other hand I played with her breasts, first one, then 
the other, feeling their weight in my hand, playing delicately yet 
insistently with the nipple.
      All this I did while sitting on the tub shelf behind her; my mouth 
roamed the back of her neck, through her wet hair, nuzzled one ear.  She kept 
her eyes closed, and luxuriated in the new warmth.        There was no hurry. 
   But in ten minutes her breathing was rapid and husky.  She started to say 
something, but I put my finger to her lips, silently admonishing, reminding 
her of the words I said before:  "Shhh...not a word."
      She came with a strangled gasp, the sponge continuing to rub warm water 
all over her pussy.   I spent another five minutes doing a slowdown.  
Finally, shifting position and stepping out of the tub, I slid her back down, 
supporting her back, while I sucked on one nipple.  Then I let her sink into 
the water until again just her knees, breast tips, and face were out of the 
water.   
      I headed off into the kitchen, and let her soak for another fifteen 
minutes or so.   I came back in, carrying a tray, with a dish of chicken 
soup, and some tea, all microwaved.
      She sat up again, and started to reach for the tea, but I shooed her 
away.  Setting the tray down, I brought the tea to her lips, and tilted back 
a little into her mouth.   "More sugar?" I said.  She shook her head no.   
      After the tea, I got back into the tub balancing the bowl of soup.  She 
kept her arms behind her, supporting her, and I fed big spoonfuls of warm 
soup to her.
      Finally it was done, and I served the rest of the tea to her.
      "Please...some water?" she said.
      I ran the sink water for a few seconds to get it its coldest, and then 
rinsed the teacup out and brought her the water, which she drank down 
greedily.
      Then she got out of the water, and I toweled her dry.  She was content 
to let me control her movements.   Once I'd run a smaller towel through her 
hair, I sat her on the toilet seat, and got a hairdryer.    Blowing it dry, I 
then got a brush and ran it through her hair, repeatedly.   I wasn't much of 
a hairdresser, but she seemed to enjoy the attentions.
      At one point, she unselfconsciously peed into the toilet.   It wasn't 
an erotic moment, she was just comfortable; with all that I had done with her 
body over the 45 minutes or so, it seemed silly to get all private now.
      Now she had a big contented smile, and was getting sleepy.   I led her 
to the bedroom, dry but nude, and then opened up the bed, putting her 
in-between the (fairly clean) sheets.  Then I loaded a couple of blankets 
atop it.   I bent down until I could smell her sweet breath, but she was 
already fast asleep, so I didn't kiss her.
                    * * *
      I went into the living room, turned out the lights,  and curled up on 
the sofa, wrapping myself in a blanket.  I was nude otherwise, and my free 
cock was erect, inspired by the sleeping form off in the bedroom.   I 
resolutely decided against taking matters into my own hands, and turned on 
the television.   I muted the sound and turned on the closed captioning, so 
that I didn't wake her.   It didn't matter what was on; within a few minutes 
it was all just moving images and I was drifting into sleep.
                    * * *
      Sometime in the wee hours I woke up to my name being called softly.  I 
looked up.  She was standing before me in shadow, wrapped in a bathrobe.  It 
wasn't tied tightly, and a tantalizing glimpse could be seen within.  She 
undid the belt and then shrugged the bathrobe off her shoulders, until it 
fell, exposing her completely naked outline in the weird light of the 
television.  She crawled onto the sofa, and wrapped herself around me.
      She put a finger to my lips.  "Shhhh.  Not a word." 
      She parted the blanket I was wrapped in, and knelt, burrowing down 
until her head was in my lap.  Since I was wearing nothing, she had full 
access.  My stiffening cock was guided by her cool fingers, and drawn into 
her mouth.  I put my hands atop her head, gently caressing her hair as she 
went to work, and all was right in our world.


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