Peaches and the Rain

Just the Sex by Philip Webb Gregg

This story contains: her and him, contemporary romance, outdoors, shower/bath, friends to lovers

The first time we came together was in a thunderstorm.

Isn’t it strange how sex is never really about sex? You think you want what you want, but there’s a deeper part of you that wants something else. Call it the subconscious, the shadow, the soul; sex is just the fastest way to tap into it. And tapping into it is the fastest way to a good orgasm. For us, it took three goes to get it right.

The first was shortly after I picked her up from the station. After months of sharing deep and tender emails, I’d finally worked up the courage to invite her out to the holiday house for some time in the country. 

We talked for hours, and later she invited me into the shower. 

I ran my hands down her back and pressed her breasts into the tile wall as the room filled with steam. She said she liked the sensation. Ice-cold tiles. Scalding water. A soft-sharp fuck. But something was missing. 

We were distant. Separated. Not capable of feeling anything beyond cold and hot. 

We were both freshly broken-hearted. That’s one of the reasons we’d been emailing so intensely: we’d just been left by long-term partners. And though we thought we wanted sex, we actually wanted something else.

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