It rains. In the Grange, the leaves had long since fallen from the trees, been trodden into mulch and washed away. Skeletal branches touched the drenc...ed grey sky. A figure stood in that torrential downpour. Being watched.The figure in the rain walked barefoot across the muddy grass, moving almost in slow motion, each pace measured and careful. There was mud and grit on the soles of his feet. Good blond hair that was now long enough to tickle his collarbones was plastered flat to his skull by. I twisted my body so as to push my moistening lips against the hard flat surface. I pushed myself closer to the edge of the machine in order to give myself a corner to grind against. The change in surface was immediately beneficial. I crossed my legs tighter and gripped down harder. My panties were soaking, causing droplets of my own juices to run down my legs and drip from the tips of my toes onto the floor.I felt something building inside me, something I’d never felt before, something brand. More

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