Tuesday, 30 May 2017

The Wetter, the Better

Writing erotica has made me realise that I have way more fetishes than I realised and that one of these is WOMEN GETTING ALL WET IN THE RAIN AND THEIR DRESS STICKING TO THEM.

Catchy, huh?

Seriously, two of my three published novels and my current Work In Progress all have a scene where the heroine gets completely drenched in a sudden downpour, culminating in lots of spanking and/or sex.

Don't believe me?

Then check this one out from Claimed By The Captain:

"Soaking wet and half-blinded by the rain, Ellen sped up, her muscles screaming and her focus narrowed down onto nothing more than the next few yards in front of her feet. 

His breathing…the pounding of his feet… he was so close now. 

Ellen’s dress snagged on a briar and she almost fell, gasping for breath. Veering off to the left, she fought her way through two close growing rowan trees and found herself in a familiar clearing: Nanny’s old meeting place. The rain came down harder here and whether it was the sacredness of the place or her own exhaustion, Ellen didn’t know but she realised she could go no further. 

She staggered into the middle of the clearing and dropped to her knees in the mud next to the altar stone, pressing a hand to her chest.

[And then a bit later...]

Though it was wet, the air was still warm with the last of the late summer heat and Thomas felt sure that removing Ellen’s clothes for her punishment would lead to no ill effects. Wide-eyed and trembling, she however made no objection as he stripped her of her dress and then her shift, leaving her kneeling in the rain and the mud in nothing but her stays and her drawers. The sight of her cleavage, wet and slippery, was almost enough to deter Thomas from his purpose entirely, as was the look of combined lust and fearful anticipation on her face."

Or this, from The Soldier's Girl:

"As the skirt of Kathy’s green dress whipped around the corner to her street, a bewildered Frank gave chase.

What the hell had happened here? He just couldn’t make sense of it. The rain was plastering his hair to his face and he could feel cold droplets running down the back of his shirt. Damn, it rained a lot in England! He didn’t know how Kathy could stand it. Speaking of which…

“Kathy!” he shouted again, as he rounded her corner and saw her fumbling for her keys halfway down the greying street.

She looked at him then and her eyes were wide in the semi-darkness. Even her hair looked dark in its sodden state and her soaking green dress was moulded to her body.

[And then a bit later...]

“You’re going to take off all your clothes now, fold them neatly and put them on the end of the bed.”

Kathy gaped at him… but it only took him raising his eyebrows again – the warning clear – to persuade her to obey. Her still sodden dress had to be near enough peeled off her body and the underwear beneath was almost as saturated. As each garment was removed and folded and more and more of her body was revealed, Kathy felt herself sink deeper and deeper into a state of submission. She would never have believed that it could feel so wonderful just to do as you are told."

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