AT THE BURST OF THE CLOUD

The sky might be greying
as we are a-laying.
Hot enough for stripping,
clothes off backs are slipping.

I give her a fumble,
kiss deep as the rumble
of thunder overhead.
She feels my pencil lead.

At the burst of the cloud,
she is moaning out loud
as, ignoring the sky,
we remained thigh in thigh.

Both of us in the nudd,
on ground turning to mud,
in the Cotswold cornfield
where to me she did yield.

My back takes the rain's brunt
while my torso shields front
of her belly and breasts
(which I dub her 'head rests').

Our clothes lying nearby
turn to wet from the dry
except for our Levi's
cushioning her back, thighs.

Rain falling like drumming
did postpone my coming
as its oncoming cool
brought slight chill to my tool.

But that didn't matter;
the rainfall's sharp patter
raised some new sensations,
on my key locations.

The rain did not deter
the grips I got from her,
squeezing on each butt cheek
helping me to the peak.

At next thundering flash,
my seed started to splash
all around her wet walls,
thus emptying my balls.

Her moaning and lowing
attended the sowing
of seed I was planting,
ending in much panting.