It was midnight; the night was dark and stormy. He labored to run against the ominous whipping of wind and punishing downpour of the rain. A few minutes ago, he was in the comforts of his car, driving home from work. But Mark Salazar met a mishap when he thought he ran over a person which caused him to step out of his car. Upon doing so, he realized that he had locked himself out with his keys inside the car. So there he was, running towards the safety of a rundown waiting shed.

Upon reaching, he instantly positioned his shivering body at the left corner where not a splatter of rain reached him. His phone too was inside his car. That left him with no alternative other than to sit and hope that a car would pass by. As the sound of everything around him faded, drowned by the continuous slaps of rain rivulets on the asphalt, he couldn't help but have dark imaginings enter his head. The weather was so bleak, that if anything would have happened in that small waiting shed, no one would hear or known of it before it was too late.

He felt cold and could only wish that a car would pass by soon, but as his gaze lingered on the desolate road in the middle of nowhere, restlessness loomed and bloomed over and inside him. The chill and shivering he felt from the slapping of wind that billowed toward him heightened that sensation even more. There was something about that particular spot in the city. Lew street is a place that held no residents other than overgrown and hundred-year-old trees. Perhaps that's why the government protected the land in that area—to preserve nature.

The minutes dragged on and just when he thought things couldn't get any more uncomfortable, he saw a silhouette a few meters from him. The image was blurred by the rain, but he could tell it was someone running towards the shed. He squinted his eyes in hopes to perceive the image better and a minute later, he was presented with the entirety of the impression against the pouring rain—it was a woman. Initially, he felt skeptical. What if the woman was a ghost or something, why would someone even..." whatever his train of thought was running into immediately halted when his eyes caught sight of an ID hanging around her neck, the lace that held it had the markings of a call center company that he was familiar with. That was enough to calm him down. She wasn’t some kind of an entity but a breathing human being who happened to have found herself in the same predicament as him.

Before she stepped in, she asked, "May I? I need a place to stay."

He bobbed his head.

Mark was not a person who easily got his breath taken away, but the woman who appeared before him was a goddess in every sense of the word. She wore a white satin cocktail dress that was a few inches above her knee. It had a spaghetti strap with a really low V-cut neckline. It dipped too low, her cleavage was almost spilling out of the dress. At some point, it must have looked elegant on her body, but when it got drenched by the rain, the material of her clothing had clung to her like a second skin. Every curve of her body was accentuated. It highlighted her waist, her chest, and for God's sake, her bum. She stood in a corner with her back turned to him so that he was able to catch a glimpse of the silhouette of her butt crack by how tightly her dress had clung to her lower half. The six-inch red stilettos she wore added to the allure of her image by how they helped her butt stick out even more.

"Do you think the rain will light up soon?"

Mark almost choked on his saliva at how alluring her voice sounded. It was so damn sweet he almost tasted the words. Weird as that may sound, that was how he felt.  He must have stared at her blankly for over ten seconds before he swallowed the lump of fluids that accumulated inside his mouth then answered, "I... I hope so."

She turned to face him, and immediately, his eyes fell on the two mountains that peeked like twin comforting pillows just waiting to be nuzzled by someone willing. Well, willing was probably the wrong word. It would be more like; someone whose self-control crumbled. The woman was an embodiment of sin; just waiting to be made.

"It's really cold." After she said those, she walked over to him and sat beside him. She was too close that despite the chill, he felt like fire licked every crevice of his body, and his skin burned with a desire he had never felt before. He also smelled liquor on her breath. The woman seemed drunk.

He smiled at her and then bowed his head. He couldn't keep his eyes on her without having dark thoughts plague his mind.

"I was on my way home from a company party. My car broke down just a few meters from here. When I saw the shallow light from this waiting shed, I came running here immediately. I’m glad someone’s here to keep me company.”

Mark knew she was perhaps talking to keep herself busy. He could tell she felt cold. From the corner of his eyes, he saw how her left hand crossed over her chest, accentuating further her huge mounds that could easily drive a man insane. She rubbed her upper right arm with her left and as her hands moved up and down, so did her twin pillows.

Mark's breath hitched and he felt a hardening from his nether regions. At first, he felt embarrassed, what if she noticed? He couldn't help but question. So he scooted a few inches away from her and angled his body to his left, further from her sight.

"You're not one for small talk are you?"

Why was she continuously talking to him? Mark complained mentally. And when she crossed the distance that he created between them, bumping her wet and exposed legs to his own. He felt like electricity swam from the place she bumped into, up to his hardened manhood. With a sigh, he stood and made his way toward the other side of the shed. He didn't want to offend her or anything so he pretended as though he was perusing the rain that fell against the cement bracing the shed.

Silence encompassed them, and just when Mark’s inner turmoil started to calm down, he felt a hand wrap around his waist. Startled, he turned and met the eyes of the woman who by then had one of the strings to her dress sliding off her shoulders.

"It's cold. Since we're here with no alternative, perhaps we can keep each other warm. I don't want to die of hypothermia," she murmured sweetly.

What the hell? Those were the only words in Mark's head. He knew he shouldn't, but his eyes once more fell on her twin mounds. They were pale, and since she was drenched, droplets of water were cascading down the side of her cheek, sensually sliding down her neck and then to the slit between her breast. It took every inch of his sanity to keep his arms to his sides and not grab those tempting pillows.

"So? Won't you help me get warm?"

That was it. He felt like the woman wanted something from him. She wanted what he felt. When she swallowed and her throat moved sinfully up and down, his loins twitched and raged against his jeans. His head was screaming to him to grab her shoulders, drag her to a corner and bend her over the long cement chair then rip her clothes off. It was not impossible and even if she resisted, who would stop him? Her? Her body was soft looking and so petite, doing whatever he wanted to her was a task that can easily be done. She can scream, but who would hear her? The rain and the wind were perfect accessories to drown her voice. Who would see him doing things to her? Their surroundings were so dark, that not even an owl would perceive how he'd take her.

He swallowed hard as the hands she had wrapped around his waist tightened their hold on him. His inside churned and commanded him to move. Take her. Drag her somewhere and rip those clothes off.  You know you want it, his mind urged.

Just when the sensations and mind blogging urge consumed him, he immediately remembered his mother's words before he left their small province. Respect a woman Mark, just as you respected me and your sisters.
When his mom told him those words he hated her for it because it made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t something you tell your son. Those words should be told by his father. So he didn't respond to his mom back then, but at that moment, in front of the sensual woman who drilled sinful desires and challenged his morality, he couldn't thank her enough. Instead of keeping his eyes on the woman who seemed to have turned mute, just staring at him with wide doey eyes, he closed his own and pictured his mother.

"Resist, respect," He told himself.

When those words came out of him. The woman released his waist.

"You don't find me attractive enough," she asked. As she said those, she leaned her head on the junction of his neck.

He flinched. He felt like he was inside a sauna. The chill and shiver from the rain minutes ago were gone, replaced by nothing but a burning sensation and the constant twitching of the thing between his thighs.

"Don't resist it. Don't you want me? I can hear what's going through your head. Just imagine, having your desire fulfilled in ways you've never thought of. You're right, you can do whatever you want to me. Bend me, choke me, eat me, or perhaps the other way around. You can force whatever you want down my throat and there's nothing I’d be able to do. No one will know."

Those words made the beating of his heart race like it never had before. He was losing it and his hands seemed to have moved from his side, going up to grab the woman by her hair, but instead of accepting defeat and assaulting someone drunk, who’d likely regret it the following day, he continued to picture his mother and managed to take a few steps back.

"Leave me alone," he murmured.

Silence.

All that answered him was silence. And when he finally dared to open his eyes, his sight was that of a steering wheel. He was inside his car, head slumped on the wheel. Confused he craned his neck from left to right. Had I dreamt it all? He asked himself and then further thought that yes, he probably had, as he stepped on the gas and drove home.

Five years later, Mark found himself standing in front of the altar. He was about to marry his long-time girlfriend. The marriage almost didn't happen, because his girlfriend thought he was sleeping with another. But the following day after that fight, his GF appeared before his door and said that she received advice from a gorgeous woman who said that he can never do such a thing because Mark was a decent man. The woman said she was Mark's childhood friend. Though Mark couldn’t remember if he had one, he thanked the person mentally. After their wedding, he murmured to his wife, "I feel like you are a gift to me. Have I passed a heavenly test or something?"

She smiled and said, "I don't know."