We're standing at the ______, watching the dark clouds roll in. Lightning glares across the distant sky. You tug me into your arms
and _______ me, and I'm lost to the storm that brews between you and I. As the thunder roars and swift winds cart away tiny twigs and leaves, we remove our _______ and lie down, lips meeting lips, flesh meeting flesh, hands exploring and caressing. I'm vaguely aware of the rain pounding against the windows as I ________ you, so lost to the bliss that nothing beyond making love to you exists. Yet, I feel empowered by the storm that's raging all around and within as if we're part of the violent tempest. Finally, the rain dies and the sun breaks through the lace of clouds, but the tempest remains between you and I.