Rain Speaks… It Calls Me
Kink of the Week July 16-31Getting wet in the rain
The splatter of gentle rain against a tin roof. Soft patterns of percussion overhead.
The even tonality of an overcast sky. It’s soft diffused light.
The fresh smell only rain can provide, unlike any other.
Rain is a sensuous experience. Or, it can be.
If only you allow yourself to feel it. Really feel it…
I love the power of Nature, in all its aspects.
I’ve always felt the power most strongly away from the works of man.
In the woods. On a shore. Standing at a canyon’s precipice.
I once lived in a National Park for a year. It was glorious.
But, no matter where I am, no matter what I might be doing, rain connects me to nature’s majesty and strength.
The vital power of rain speaks to the primal within me.
It awakens my senses. And, it arouses my desires.
The Tantric and the Master within me both revel in the energy rain provides for play.
Soak it up.
Soak it in.
I went to the desert, and there I found rain.
The skies opened up. It rained for days until the sand itself became saturated.
We walked and laughed in the rain at first. Joking about being beavers, we dammed a little stream in what was usually a dry desert gully.
The sprinkles from the sky came down harder. Then harder still. Soon, they were no longer sprinkles at all.
The dam burst. Beavers would have done better, I’m sure. So, we walked and laughed again.
I’ll share a little secret I learned that day. Don’t start a walk in the rain with the wind to your back…
We wandered for about an hour, then we turned, and headed for home.
The skies opened up. Water poured down harder and harder. The wind picked up. Nature’s power can be unrelenting.
It felt like my face was being scoured by the rain. My fancy raincoat soaked thru and stuck like a second skin, colder still than my own.
Arriving at camp, we shed our clothes, quickly.
I will always remember the rain beating down on my naked skin, like a full body shower.
We nearly knocked each other over crawling into the tent at the same time. Both seeking the warmth of our bedroll.
Inside the confines of our tent, snuggled into a giant sleeping bag together, Bliss and I smiled and laughed some more.
The sound of rain beating on the tent roof was hypnotic. So was her naked body.
We made love.
It was glorious, intense, and satisfying.
We lay together then for another hour, listening to the storm, basking in the glow of our lovemaking.
Time seemed suspended. We lay together almost as if in a trance.
The afterglow continued, as did the storm. But, the feeling of being sexually sated drifted away.
We explored each other’s bodies again. Perhaps less frantically, but still filled with the rain’s sensual energy.
Still more fully satisfied, the sun’s glow receding, we fell asleep with the dusk.
Rain, whose soft architectural hands have power to cut stones, and chisel to shapes of grandeur the very mountains.Henry Ward Beecher
I came semi-awake, in the dark, to a roar.
A deep rumbling. Earth lightly trembling under me.
The sound of rain falling on the tent was still present. But, this was deeper
A grip of fear struck me for a second as I fumbled for a flashlight.
I’d always wanted to witness a flash flood in the desert. But, not like this. Not in the middle of the night. Not while camping in an isolated campsite.
Grabbing the flashlight, I wandered off into the night, moving towards the rumble.
Sure enough, the arroyo we’d been playing in was flooding. A solid wall of red-brown water filled the gulch.
The water surged and rolled like an angry beast. The closer I got, the louder the sound. Large boulders, heavier than Bliss and I could lift together, were rumbling in the stream. Rolling and crashing like dice being tossed.
Then I realized we were stranded. The only way out crossed another similar ravine. I could hear a muffled roar in that direction too.
If the water got any higher, our camp was in danger of being flooded.
What to do?
Certain emotions just take you to the notes – being furious, heroic, sad, erotic, when rain comes.Jeff Buckley
Rain pouring down on me, I scurried back into the tent.
There was Bliss, awake now herself.
I explained the flood. I told her about the boulders rolling and tumbling against each other. She could hear the roar, feel the ground’s vibrations.
What to do?
Fuck the rain, the storm. Oh, fuck the flood. Just fuck it all.
Hey, let’s just fuck.
Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.John Updike
When the morning came, the storm had passed, only light rain remained.
It was three days before the dirt road to our campsite opened back up.
When it was over, I was raw.
Anytime we lacked a purpose, anytime we lacked a plan, one of us would ask the question…
“What do you want to do now?”
“Let’s fuck,” became our refrain.
It took us all three days to work off all the energy we’d absorbed from our walk in the rain. The power infused from the ground trembling beneath us.
What glorious days they were…
The best thing one can do when it’s raining is to let it rain.Henry Wadsworth Longfellow