I’ve been achy and sniffling for two days.
Because I can’t behave like a grown-up.
A rain storm started just as The Attorney and I got back from out Friday night date.
A gushing, skies opened, downpour.
There had been a big drop in temperature and it was cold.
Not bitter cold.
And I loved it.
I’m a water baby by nature and I love anything that gets me wet.1
We ran from the car to the house. But I stopped half way, peeled off my shirt, turned my chest to the heavens and let the shower pelt it and my face.
The Attorney, ever the grown-up, shouted from the porch to get my ass out of the rain.
I told him I wouldn’t until he came and kissed me in the rain.
Reluctantly he did.
A quick one. “Okay, can we go in now?”
I held him back and pulled his shirt over his head.
We kissed again.
Bare-chested in the rain.
I undid my britches and shook them down to my ankles.
Only thing I love more than getting wet is getting naked.2
I told him to take his off.
But I had a way to convince him and eventually I did.
It wasn’t like we were not on private property a couple of acres from anyone else and under the cloak of night.
Plus we couldn’t go inside in soaked clothes.
So we made out bare-chested and bare-assed in the rain, until we shivered, goose-bumps and all.
But that’s something only grown-ups should do, right?
And now I have a summer cold.
But it was worth it.