Rain-Soaked Cravings

The downpour hammered the café windows like it wanted in. I sat across from my client, Marcus, the ripped fitness trainer who'd been pushing my limits for months, and the air between us crackled with raw want. His dark eyes kept dropping to the way my wet blouse clung to my tits, nipples hard from the chill and from the way he was staring. We were supposed to be reviewing my progress over coffee, but the storm had trapped us here, and every second the tension thickened until I could barely breathe.

"Damn, Lena, you look like you just stepped out of the shower," Marcus said, voice low and rough. He leaned forward, elbows on the small table, his broad shoulders stretching his damp t-shirt. "Those workouts are paying off. Your body's fucking insane now."

I shifted in my seat, feeling heat pool between my thighs. The café was nearly empty, just the barista in the back and rain drumming on the roof. "You think so? All that sweating and grunting with you in the gym... it's made me crave more than just reps." My foot brushed his leg under the table, deliberate. I saw his jaw tighten.

He didn't pull away. Instead, his hand slid under the table, fingers tracing up my calf. "Careful what you say, Lena. I've been holding back during sessions, imagining bending you over the weight bench. That tight pussy wrapped around my cock while you moan my name."

My breath hitched. The explicit words sent a jolt straight to my clit. Fuck the small talk. I glanced around—the rain made the windows fogged mirrors, hiding us from the street. "Then stop holding back. Right now. I need it."

Marcus's eyes darkened with lust. He stood, pulling me up by the wrist, and we slipped into the narrow hallway leading to the single-stall restroom at the back of the café. The door clicked shut behind us, the rain muffling everything. He spun me against the sink, yanking my skirt up over my hips in one rough motion.

"God, you're soaked already," he growled, fingers shoving my panties aside. Two thick digits plunged into my dripping pussy without warning, curling hard against my g-spot. I gasped, gripping the edge of the sink as wet sounds filled the tiny room.

"Fuck, Marcus... yes, finger my cunt like that." I pushed back against his hand, my juices coating his knuckles. He pumped faster, thumb grinding my swollen clit in tight circles. My legs trembled, the smell of rain on our skin mixing with the sharp tang of arousal.

He freed his cock with his other hand—big, veined, the head already leaking precum. "Suck it first. I want to feel that pretty mouth before I wreck you."

I dropped to my knees on the cold tile, not caring about the dirt. His thick dick slapped my cheek before I opened wide, taking him deep. The salty taste flooded my tongue as I bobbed, gagging softly when he hit the back of my throat. "Mmmph... so fucking big," I mumbled around his shaft, saliva dripping down my chin.

Marcus groaned, fingers tangling in my wet hair. "That's it, deepthroat my cock like a good slut. Shit, your throat's squeezing me perfect." He fucked my face with short thrusts, balls tapping my chin, until tears pricked my eyes and my pussy throbbed with emptiness.

He pulled me up suddenly, turning me to face the mirror. "Watch yourself get fucked." My hands braced on the sink as he kicked my feet apart. The fat head of his cock nudged my slick entrance, then slammed in balls-deep in one brutal stroke.

"Oh fuck!" I cried out, the stretch burning so good. He was huge, filling every inch of my tight pussy. Marcus didn't ease up—he gripped my hips and pounded me hard, the wet slap of skin echoing over the rain. Each thrust jolted me forward, my tits bouncing free from my blouse.

"Look at that juicy ass jiggle," he grunted, one hand cracking down in a sharp spank. The sting made my walls clench harder around him. "This cunt's gripping me like it owns my dick. You been wet for me all those training sessions?"

"Yes... every time you touched me, I wanted this. Harder, Marcus—fuck me like you mean it!" My voice broke into moans as he railed me faster, the mirror fogging with our breath. He reached around, rubbing my clit furiously while his cock drilled deep, hitting spots that made my vision blur.

I came first, hard—pussy spasming, squirting a little down my thighs as waves of ecstasy crashed through me. "I'm cumming... shit, don't stop!"

He didn't. Marcus flipped me around, lifting one of my legs onto the sink so he could drive in even deeper from the front. Face to face now, his mouth claimed mine in a messy kiss, tongues battling while he hammered my soaked hole. The new angle had his cockhead grinding my g-spot relentlessly.

"Gonna fill this pussy up," he panted against my lips, sweat mixing with rain on his brow. "Tell me you want my cum."

"I want it—cum inside me, flood my cunt!" I begged, nails digging into his back.

His thrusts turned erratic, balls tightening. With a deep groan he buried himself to the hilt and exploded, thick ropes of hot cum pulsing into me. I felt every spurt, my walls milking him dry as a second, smaller orgasm rippled through my body.

We stayed locked like that, panting, his softening cock still twitching inside me. Cum leaked down my leg when he finally pulled out, but he just smirked, tucking himself away.

"Progress review complete," he said with a wicked grin, helping me fix my clothes. "Same time next week? Rain or shine."

I laughed breathlessly, kissing him once more as the storm raged on outside. "Only if we skip the café and go straight to the hard stuff."