Chapter 8

I’m gonna tell you about this one time I set off on an adventure, cutting across Brazil to meet a guy I’d connected with online. I’m not some young thing anymore. I can’t pretend it was one of those reckless youthful escapades, the kind you do on a whim and forget about later. But maybe it was worse — or better — because it was deliberate. What drove me was the hunger to feel alive again, to love, to be loved, to remind myself there was still fire burning inside me.

I met him on Instagram. A smooth-talking guy. One day we started chatting, and I quickly picked up on something about his vibe. A quiet charm, teasing, that hooked me in. I let myself get carried away slowly, without even realizing it. Talking to him was easy, even kinda hot. He wrote like someone who knew his shit, like he’d lived a little more than he let on. And before I knew it, there I was, stepping off a plane at Rio de Janeiro airport, right in the middle of a bustling crowd, faces rushing by, voices blending into announcements and hurried footsteps, and me standing there — nervous, palms sweaty, heart pounding — wondering just how big a mistake I was making.

I spotted him first. He was there, looking anxious, checking his watch, scanning the people coming off the plane. He might not even recognize me — we’d never met in person, just photos. Or worse: what if he did and didn’t like what he saw? He could just turn around and walk away. Those thoughts raced through my head one after another, overriding any logic. So many insecurities squeezing my chest all at once.

I walked slowly, dragging my suitcases with this fragile grip, and that’s when he noticed me. His face lit up. A bright smile, warmth in his eyes. He came toward me discreetly, almost shy, and stopped right in front of me like a goofy kid.

“Hi…” he said, his voice low but steady.

“Hi…” I replied, feeling my cheeks burn.

“I don’t even know how to greet you… I just wanna kiss you right here, in front of everybody.”

I’d never thought I’d blush like that in public again. But there he was, making me flush like a schoolgirl.

“How about a hug to start?”

He pulled me into a tight hug. The kind that squeezes the breath out of you, that says “I love you” and “I’ll protect you” without a single word. I stayed there, pressed against his body, feeling his chest rise and fall, the warm scent of skin and cologne mixing, and something inside me settled for the first time in days.

The suitcases went straight to the car. According to his plan, we still had a short drive ahead. Since I’d said I loved the cold and overcast weather, he’d picked a spot up in the Rio mountains, tucked into the hills and close to the clouds.

The drive was stunning. Rio de Janeiro put on a show with its best and worst views, unapologetically chaotic, like it knew the power it held. We climbed a beautiful ridge, with breathtaking vistas and a temperature drop so sudden it was shocking. At the airport I’d been sweating; now I was digging through my bag for a jacket to handle the chill that wrapped around me like an unexpected — and delicious — embrace.

The last stretch was down a dirt road in some godforsaken spot, with old houses where quiet folks lived in harmony with the landscape. Our place was simple, wooden with a golden-yellow oil paint job, built on a sloping lot covered in a carpet of emerald grass. Around us, the mountains rose to the sky, majestic, their peaks shrouded in grumpy clouds that threatened to soak everything below. Scattered houses showed the neighbors were few and far between, everyone tucked away in their cabins.

Behind the house, an icy stream tumbled straight down from the mountain, snaking over rocks to form a natural mineral pool, clear and still. A lazy sun, filtered through the clouds and treetops, scattered golden beams dancing on the water’s surface, like it was painting the scene with strokes of light. Trees heavy with seasonal fruit leaned over the path, generous, while wildflowers burst out everywhere, like they’d sprung from nothing — colorful, vibrant, growing like weeds in garden beds the earth had taken its time to craft.

Inside, there was nothing fancy — and maybe that’s what made it so cozy. It was straightforward, with that musty smell of old vacations. A good smell. The big fireplace dominated the living room, promising warmth, relaxation, and maybe… something more.

Once we were settled, he turned to me with a teasing glint in his eye.

“Let’s see if you really like the cold… You got the guts to jump in that icy pool?”

“It’s freezing out here!” I shot back, shrugging, laughing, trying to hide the shiver that wasn’t just from the breeze.

“We gotta make the most of this sun before it bails. Otherwise we’ll be cooped up inside all day. Buck up and throw on a swimsuit.”

He headed through one door, me through another. The insecurity of being so exposed hit me hard in the chest. It was cold, but the promise of that mountain sun, even if shy, was comforting. I slipped into a tie bikini, wrapped myself in a sarong, and took a deep breath. It took some nerve to show off like that.

When I stepped out, he was waiting, in his trunks, standing there watching me. I tried not to check out his body, but my eyes — and my desire — betrayed me. I blushed. But then I felt the heat of his gaze roaming over me. He wanted me. And that made me feel even more exposed.

The pool water was impossible to face. Liquid ice. I spread the sarong on the edge and we sat there, feet dipped in the freezing current rushing down from the mountain, chatting. We traded flirts, silly smiles, talking about this and that, in that same easy rhythm we’d always had online.

But the weather wasn’t playing nice. Thunder cracked in the distance, and suddenly the sky opened up. Rain hammered down, driven by the wind, whipping across the landscape, blotting it from view. In minutes, everything turned gray, hidden behind the thick, heavy downpour. We sat there, stunned, watching nature’s fury pound the grass, the rocks, us.

The rain soaked us through. Skin prickling, lips trembling, hair plastered to our faces. And between laughs and shivers from the cold, I said:

“Let’s go inside… we’ll catch our death out here, it’s too damn cold.”

He stepped toward me, right in the middle of that bone-chilling cold and water streaming off our bodies. He looked at me steady, eyes burning.

“I’ll warm you up… come take a rain shower with me.”

And he kissed me.

The kiss started with the cold still closing in. Water streamed from our hair, our shoulders, stinging our backs like icy needles. But his heat… his heat came like a flame starting small and spreading fast.

When he pulled me into the hug, I felt his body press against mine, hot, solid, his warm skin contrasting my chilled one. The touch of our chests, arms, bellies… everything seemed to want to warm me up. And it did.

The kiss was urgent, wet, starving. His mouth sought mine like he’d been waiting his whole life. His tongue met mine without hesitation. His hands gripped my waist hard, making me forget the wind, the rain, the embarrassment. The cold was still there, nipping at my neck, making me shiver, but it was hard to tell if it was the temperature or desire. He squeezed me tighter, and I felt it. The bulge. The hardness. His arousal growing, stiff, rubbing against me through his soaked trunks.

I froze, not knowing what to do. My muscles tensed, legs locked for a second. My heart raced, but it wasn’t fear anymore — it was excitement.

His hands started roaming my body. First my back, then my waist, sliding up my ribs slowly, slick from the water. He held me with real want, a gentle hunger that’s firm at the same time. When his fingers dug into my thighs, I felt my body give in.

I didn’t fight it. Didn’t want to. I just let it happen, and the cold vanished.

He stepped back, still eyeing me like he could see right through me. His wet body glistened in the light rain, and his eyes… dark, locked on, commanding.

With a calm, almost lazy motion, he untied my bikini top at the back. The fabric slid down my wet skin, and on instinct I cupped my breasts, trying to cover up. But he gave a subtle shake of his head, like “no.” No words, just that silent, firm command.

I took a deep breath and let go. My hands dropped slowly, letting my bare tits feel the wind and rain. The sensation was sharp, raw, but strangely freeing. My skin prickled in the cold, but inside, what burned was something else.

He came close again. Without breaking eye contact, he glanced down just for a second, and with the same easy calm, undid the side ties of my bikini bottom. No rush. No doubt. The water hitting my skin down there seemed to evaporate on contact. The cold lingered around us, but my pussy was on fire.

Nothing was said.

His trunks dropped just as easily as he’d undone my ties. They slid down his wet legs to his feet, revealing his hard cock, out in the open, throbbing — and somehow hotter than anything there. It sprang free right in front of me, and my body reacted before my brain could catch up.

I wanted it. Wanted to feel it. Wanted him in me, on me, everywhere. A raw, almost primal urge took over my chest, my belly, the aching space between my legs.

He pulled me close again, and when our skin slapped together, the rain became a distant afterthought. His mouth crashed into mine hard, hungry, like the kiss was the last spark to set the blaze. It was a wet, desperate kiss that stole the air and made the ground slip away. I kissed him back with total abandon, thinking of nothing but the taste, the tongue, the press of his body against mine.

My hands slid down and wrapped around that hot, firm bulge, feeling every ridge, every throb under my trembling fingers. He groaned low and rough into the kiss, like that simple touch was an open invite to madness. At the same time, his fingers were already exploring me with greed. One dipped between my legs with precision, soaking in the wet heat that was already burning. His other hand squeezed my tit hard, marking my skin, making it alive, surrendered.

The shock of it all left me dizzy. It was like being naked in an electric storm. Every touch a lightning bolt. Every kiss a thunderclap. I moaned without thinking, bit my lips between breaths, clinging to his back as my legs started to give.

Our moans cut through the world like the sheets of rain. The sound of drops hitting leaves, rocks, the distant roof blended with our bodies, our ragged breaths, the moans we couldn’t hide anymore.

He looked down at me, eyes blazing, face wet, mouth parted with heavy breathing. He dropped to his knees in front of me like he was worshiping my body — like that’s where he belonged.

He grabbed my waist and I got it. I threw one leg over his shoulder, the other planted firm on the slick ground, heart hammering, hairs standing not just from the cold but the anticipation. And then he ate me out.

His hot mouth, his alive tongue, dancing on my pussy like it was playing a holy instrument. He licked me without fanfare, without shame, without stopping. His tongue rose, circled, pressed, tracing pleasure in me like he was writing our deepest secrets on my soul. His fingers dug into my ass, holding me tight, spreading, probing. One found my asshole and slid in slow, and my whole body lit up in an electric shiver, deep, racing up my spine and bursting from my throat in a hoarse, wet, yielding moan.

I leaned back, the world spinning. I threw my arms wide like I was surrendering to the wind, the sky, whatever came. Head tossed back, hair dripping, body arched like a drawn bow, mouth open in an uncontrolled laugh that wanted to drown in the sky’s water — a laugh that was a moan, relief, madness. An orgasm so intense my legs buckled, the ground vanished.

It was like I was tiny, floating between giant mountains, heavy clouds, and wet stones. Just me and him, two small bodies, defying nature’s vastness with raw pleasure.

I collapsed to my knees in the soaked grass, laughing, gasping, unable to stand. He caught me, steady, keeping me from falling flat, but my body wasn’t listening anymore. I ended up on all fours, laughing like a maniac, satisfied, grateful for the gift that felt hand-delivered from above.

Panting, out of breath, I tried to gather my scattered thoughts, but he didn’t let me.
He took the place of the raindrops trickling over my ass cheeks and brought heat between my thighs, with a touch that didn’t ask permission. A hot stroke, unexpected, made me freeze. I let out a muffled, deep moan that no one in the world could hear — except him.

And then I felt the first thrust.

My body jerked back on instinct, trying to escape, but he held me firm. His hands kept me in place, spread over my waist, telling me I was his now. My mouth fell open, and I couldn’t close it. Raindrops hit my eyes, but my eyelids were too slow to shield anything.

I felt him enter me.
It wasn’t gentle. It was deep, intense, slow and final.
He claimed his space inside me. Pushed through, broke resistance, made my body mold to him. With every inch, the heat spread through my guts like a living ember.

He was inside me.

He started fucking me.

There was no tenderness left — it was something else. Instinct. Hunger. A brutal rhythm pounding into me like strong waves against rock. Each thrust a raw invasion, aching, that made me grit my teeth, cry, scream. But it wasn’t rejection pain — it was the ache of surrender, flesh opening to receive.

He gripped me so hard it felt like my hips would snap in his hands. With every drive, my body lurched forward and snapped back. Grass mixed with mud under my knees, and he held me steady, lifting my hips off the ground like I weighed nothing.

I screamed.

Screamed his name, screamed nonsense, moaned through sobs and mad laughs. His balls slapped my clit with every plunge, making me shake, moan loud, lose my breath. It was too much. Too hard. Too deep. And I came.

I came with my whole body. Legs quaking, vision blurring, soul leaving for a second.

But he didn’t stop.

He kept pounding me like he wanted to dig even deeper, like he wanted to go right through me. And I came again, unable to hold back, unable to escape. The pleasure turned to agony. My muscles clenched in spasms, my belly contracted like it wanted to push the ecstasy out, but he was there, still inside, harder, deeper, more his.

“Stop… for the love of God… I need a break…” I begged, my voice cracking in crazy laughs between moans and pleasure-tears.

And even then… deep down, I didn’t want him to stop.

My body shook. Breath came in gasps, still bent over, knees in the soft earth, eyes full of water and rain. But something inside me still craved more of him.

I turned slowly, mouth parted, eyes gleaming with lust and abandon. I faced him, his cock still hard, slick with me, throbbing in the air like an unfulfilled promise. I grabbed it with both hands, firm, and brought it to my mouth without a second thought.

I sucked slow at first, just the head, licking the taste of my own cum still dripping off. He groaned loud, head thrown back, and I smiled around him, tongue swirling, sucking, teasing. I savored every bit of myself on him, and more.

Then I went deep. Mouth fitted tight, jaw aching, the wet, filthy sound of my mouth working him in the rain, no shame, no pause. He held my hair, panting, lost, and I felt the power of every groan vibrating on my tongue.

When he got hard again, even tighter, I sped up. His breaths shortened. And when I felt him coming, I took him down my throat, eyes rolling up to meet his — and let him.

He came with a rough, almost angry groan, body trembling under my hands. I felt every hot spurt fill my mouth and swallowed it all without looking away. When he softened, I giggled, rubbed his cock on my cheek like some dirty, intimate joke — naughty, shared, ours.

We both laughed, still breathless, still naked in the rain. The water didn’t feel cold anymore. The world didn’t seem so big.

Spent, exhausted, laughing like a couple of reckless teens, we ran inside naked, slipping on the wooden porch, soaking everything we passed, leaving footprints and sin on the floor.

And in there, between the drips still falling from our hair ends and the scent of wet earth drifting through the window, I knew: the cold was gone.

It was just our heat now.