“It’s coming! Hurry up, fuck, hurry the fuck up!”He is yelling at me, pushing heavy curtains that cover the glass wall of the living room to the sides, howling like a wild dog. A giant storm is coming, the sky has turned black and the lights above the kitchen desk are flickering. The air smells of rain and electricity, and it makes me shiver. He makes me shiver, too.It’s wakened up in him again, this element, this force. Oh my God, what’s going to happen this time? It excites him so much he would rip his own skin off. And maybe also mine. When a storm is coming, he acts like he’s out of his mind – well, mind… he acts like he forgets everything about normal behavior and decency. There’s only a strong, animalistic need left. Like when you give a cigarette to a heavy smoker after a long, long time. He’d do anything to just grab it, light it and take a deep drag.I take a step back from the sink, stepping over the shards of the plate I dropped when he yelled at me. Slowly, I walk inside the living room. There’s a strange, unpleasant feeling in my lower abdomen now. The floor creaks. The sky behind the glass wall looks like the world is about to end.“Hurry up, let’s go outside! I don’t want to miss it in this fucking small room! The tears of love are falling, look! You’re scared, aren’t you?”From my angle, he looks terrifying. His tall body with a crown of fair, curly hair, face covered by darkness and lit up by lightning in turns. He’s disgustingly animalistic, standing there like a giant demon and staring at me with ankara travesti a question carved in his face.“No, I’m not going there tonight! I’m scared! It’s raining cats and dogs. You’re not getting me outside. Not tonight!” I whine.“Come on, girl, just come. I can hear the rain, the atmosphere… you know it… You have to go there with me, I need it. I’ll do you like never before. You’ll never forget it.”There’s a lump in my throat and my heart is beating hard. There’s no cruelty in his eyes, though, just an unimaginable need. He has always been like this. Strange, demonic, with storms as a trigger. I’ve never met anyone like him before. He’s simply unique.He throws himself at me like a beast, grabs my elbow and drags me out of the door. I try to get free, but I stand no chance. When we leave the protection of the veranda, the heavy rain makes us wet in seconds. Lightning continues to set the sky ablaze. The thunder is still coming from afar. The thin, white summer dress I put on when we agreed on a calm August night date is now sticking to my body. The night is warm, but the streams of water running down my skin feel icy cold. My nipples are rock hard.“We run, is that clear? We have to make it before it’s gone! If we miss it, I’ll punish you, and you remember last time. You didn’t like it much, did you?” He looks at me with fire in his eyes, pulls me closer by the elbow and picks up his pace. He likes it a bit too much when I’m like this… how to say it… wet and juicy through and through. travesti ankara It would probably even excite him if I pissed myself out of fear.We run through the unkempt garden. Lit by lightning, it looks scary. Sometimes we can barely see the path. Tall grass, flowers and nettles whip my legs with each step. I keep on whining, almost like making a constant sound somehow calms me down. We head to the fence at the back of the garden. All I can hear is the steady rain and my own heart now beating somewhere in my throat. The thunder gets louder.He pushes me ahead of him a few times during the journey, grabs my breasts through the wet fabric of my dress and kneads them in his large hands. I can feel his erection through his shorts. My knees get weak from the mere feeling of it. I slip on the muddy path crossing the wet bushes and my sandals eventually get stuck and slip off my feet.He forces me to climb over the fence, repeating that we need to get on the hill behind the house, under the giant linden tree where he can best feel the storm. The fence is not too high, three round poles lodged in vertical ones, buried firmly in the soil. I struggle, propping myself up against the fence. Wrong move. He presses me against it even more from behind, fixing me expertly in the front with his left arm. I hang over the fence, the log pressing into my stomach, my breasts spilling out of the stretched fabric of the dress.He pulls the wet dress up, over my buttocks, and his right hand reaches straight between my ankara travestiler legs. He rubs my labia, presses a finger against my opening, through my panties… crazy, crazy, crazy. Devils dancing in the sky, and one breathing hard against the back of my neck.“Come on, whore, you’ll feel the power of lightning in you, nature, all the elements… your head will spin, you’ll be breathless with pleasure… Wait, I’ll show you… The more you’re scared, the harder it gets me… see? It’s your fault, that’s what you get for being scared, stupid bitch!”He bends me over the fence even more. I hang there, half-naked, in the rain. He wants to pull down my panties, but the fabric is wet, it gets stuck. I try to climb over the fence. No chance. He rips the panties off and throws them in the mud. I can hear the splash. He parts my legs with his knee and reaches between my legs again. I feel small and helpless… and above me, him, who wants to devour me like a hungry beast… he truly is a beast and I am merely a weak prey. It’s scary, and so simple at the same time, and it excites me in a strange, twisted way.He has woken up these instincts in me a couple of times before, found them deep inside of me, where no one could find them before. And now they come back, without me truly wanting it. Maybe I even hate it in a way, but when it comes over me, thanks to him, it completely engulfs me and I can’t fight it.I start getting used to my new role. I can feel the pleasure spreading from between my legs throughout my whole body. It’s pulsing. He’s got his middle finger inside of me now, fingering me like he is truly making love to me. I’m getting wet on the inside as well. Before long, I’m dripping. If I wasn’t lying on the fence, I’d probably fall to the ground, weak and pliant. He can feel it.

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