I think I sensed something on an unconscious, visceral level, that required no words to communicate.Finally, the band started a slow dance. We were br...athing hard, from our wild gyrations.“You want to take a break?” she asked. Her shoes were hanging from her left hand. They’d lasted less than thirty seconds after she started dancing.“No,” I said, firmly.“I’m sweaty,” she said.“I don’t care.”Almost carefully, we approached each other. We were hesitant, but I think it was only because we weren’t. The first thing she asked was what was I doing, and I had to explain that I loved the rain, and how my shirt got all muddy, and that I was hopping to get to my car without being seen – I left out the masturbating part. She had more questions, and had me walk over to the bathroom area that was out of the rain and had lighting, hear she asked my name, and started to ask more about how it felt being naked in the rain. I explained how I enjoy being naked at home and the rain was just another. More

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