I walked part of the way home in the rain after work because the bus I usually take was half an hour late. I don’t like standing still, so when I’m caught in moments of waiting, I always opt in to walk. It helps my mind feel like it’s moving even when it’s stuck in a loop.

“Two questions for you,” is how I started it off.

“Okay,” she says back.

“One, did you want to stay the night? It’s already like 10PM and I don’t want you thinking you have to leave. It’s late.” I should’ve just said “I don’t want you to go.” But.

She looks at me for a moment, and I don’t give her time to answer before asking the second question.

“Two, did you want water or something?”

She says yes to both.

I love being kissed and touched and made to feel soft. I’m beginning to realize that I don’t want that from just anyone. I go from wanting all of the world to tell me how lovely I am so that I don’t have to remind myself of it, to not wanting anyone to know that I exist. I really think somewhere in the middle is where I’d like to be, but I’m simply not meant for that.

One extreme to the other. Hot then cold. Did you know that tornadoes are created from opposing air forces of different temperatures? Hot and humid clashing with cold and dry. So much destruction from elements so natural.

I think she might be a storm chaser, because people like that exist. One of my favorite movies is Sweet Home Alabama. In the beginning of the movie, we see how glass can be made during a lightning storm when you stick giant metal rods in the sand. Maybe she sees the art that comes from me. The good hidden behind guardedness.

I climb onto my bed where she’d been sitting for some time. She slips her hand behind my neck and as her lips touch mine, I can feel the hot and humid current inside my body make its way between my legs.

I don’t think she knows what she’s getting herself into when she slides her fingers into me.

“Harder,” I say.

I’m a mess of a person. A tornado that wants to destroy. I want to wreck your life, leaving it in pieces.

Now, I’m on all fours and look in the mirror to see her body behind mine.

“I wish I could watch myself be fucked while in front of this.” And she does just what I hoped she would, but better.

I lower my chest to the bed, sticking my ass out in the air as she goes deeper and faster into me. Then, sitting upright to get a better look at our bodies in motion, I feel more of her than before.

I gasp and she uses her left hand to help keep my body in time with her right. She doesn’t let up.

“You look so good,” she says in my ear, “ride it just like that.”

And that’s what is looped in my brain as I walked in the rain.

Storm chaser, I’m a storm that’s always coming, please proceed with caution.