This is a rewrite of a story I wrote a few years ago, back when Taylor was still at least partly 'America's Sweetheart/Girl-Next-Door' rather than 'Global Pop Royalty'.
Content: M/F, Oral, Romantic
Nothing is real, especially this.
Rain & Chocolate
I’d had one hell of a year – the startup I’d joined after graduating had been unexpectedly bought out by a much bigger firm, and life had suddenly gotten complicated. One week I was junior employee; the next I was low-tier management. So there was more money, and more stock options, and more opportunity; but there was also more responsibility, more pressure, and more work. A lot
more work. On top of that, I’d just split up with my girlfriend, which really didn’t help. I just threw myself into the work even more, making sure I was too busy to really think about anything else.
So as you can imagine, after about a year of this I was very badly
in need of a vacation. Things in the office had more or less calmed down, so I took a week off and flew to the other side of the country, leaving my work phone behind me. (The morning of my flight I went through my luggage twice, to make sure it definitely
wasn’t in there.) I wanted to really get away from it all, leave everything behind and finally relax for a while.
Which is how I came to be staying in a rented place outside of a small town I’d never heard of, somewhere in Essex County. One of those Colonial-style old-money houses, maybe not so big but cosy, and very well built. You know those shows about bored teenagers at expensive private schools? You can imagine them coming here to visit their grandparents at Christmas.
I spent a few days just wandering around, enjoying the bright, chill weather of early Spring. Admiring buildings older than my home state, hiking along the coast, rooting through tiny antique stores, and generally pretending to be a Lovecraft protagonist. After twelve months of frantic activity, being off the grid and all alone felt very odd at first; but soon I was enjoying the peace and tranquillity. Of course, when the storm came howling in out of nowhere that morning, I found myself rather more isolated than I'd planned.
The day started out promisingly enough; then the wind started to pick up, and up, and up. The sun disappeared behind the clouds, the town behind sheets of rain, the power went out, and I realised the meaning of ‘Off-Season Discount’. The gas stove in the kitchen still worked, but I couldn’t get the heating to come on, and it was starting to get pretty cold. Fortunately there was a great big fireplace in the front room, and plenty of firewood; honestly I was kind of glad for an excuse to really get into the spirit of things. A short while later I was standing in front of a blazing fireplace; I’m not the most practical of people but I do enjoy lighting things on fire. The storm was raging outside but inside I was safe and warm, happily listening to the crackling flames and the drumming rain.
When I first heard the knocking I figured it was just something outside getting banged around by the elements, but after a few moments I realised it was someone hammering frantically on the door. The moment I turned the handle it flew open and she fell past me into the hallway, an unknown figure in a swirl of rain and leaves. Closing
it again proved harder, until the wind let up a little and the heavy door slammed shut. When I turned to take a proper look at my unexpected guest I saw she was, naturally enough, unsteady on her feet and dripping wet. There was something about her that seemed curiously familiar though, even with her face partly hidden behind a sodden scarf and tangles of blonde hair.
“Come in where it’s warm, you’ll catch your death like that!” A smile lit her flushed, exhausted-looking face and I felt that twinge of recognition again. Who was she? She took a few audibly-squelching steps, before stopping and trying unsteadily to bend over. For a moment I thought she was about to keel over in front of me, before realising she was just trying to take off her wet shoes. “Hang on, let me-” I knelt to undo their waterlogged laces and slipped them off her feet.
“Oh, thank you!” The sound of her voice triggered my memories, and as she clawed the hair from her blue eyes I realised who it was. She must have seen the shock of recognition on my face because she gave me a tired smile and said “Yeah, it’s me.” Taylor Swift. The beautiful, famous, and famously beautiful singer. I didn’t have the faintest idea what to say so I just waved towards the front room and she staggered off gratefully, a trail of wet footprints in her wake.
I was, naturally, pretty shocked to have America’s Sweetheart turn up half-drowned on my doorstep. For the moment I decided to concentrate on practical matters. “You just get warmed up in front of the fire, I’ll see if I can find you something dry to wear.” Heading upstairs, I wasn’t really sure what I had that would suit, until I spotted the voluminous bathrobe hanging on the bathroom door whilst grabbing a pile of dry towels. Perfect.
I went back downstairs, half expecting her to have vanished in the meantime, or at least turned into an ordinary, non-famous woman. But she hadn’t. She was still there, and she was still Taylor Swift. “I hope this is alright, it’s the best I can do?”
“Thank you so much!” The fire must have been doing her a world of good, because even weather-beaten she still sounded sweet as honey. I felt a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the blazing fire and hoped I wasn’t blushing.
“I’ll uh, I’ll just go make you something to drink whilst you change.” I went through into the kitchen, lit the stove, and grabbed a mug. Coffee? No, a situation like this definitely called for hot chocolate. As it burbled away on the stovetop, I gazed out of the window and saw nothing but cloud and rain. Five minutes or so later I knocked on the door. “Is it OK for me to come in?”
“Sure,” she called back, “I’m decent now.” I stepped into the room and she was standing in front of the fireplace, swathed in the fluffy robe, combing the worst of the knots from her hair. I handed her the steaming mug and she took it in both hands gratefully. “Oh, that’s wonderful, you’re so kind. Could you put my things someplace to dry?” Taylor pointed at a soaking heap of clothes and shuddered theatrically. “Right through to my skin, ugh.”
“Of course, no problem.” There was a clothes horse in the corner, so I pulled it out and began arranging her things on it. “I hope you’re feeling-” I realised I was holding her panties “feeling, er, better now?” They weren’t particularly sexy or anything, but well, they were her panties
. That she’d just taken off. I put them carefully with the rest of her clothes, hoping I hadn’t been obviously perving on her underwear.
better now.” Taylor paused and took a sip of her chocolate. “Ooh, that’s nice!” She took a seat on the rug across from the fire, so I followed suit. “I’m so lucky to have found you, I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise.”
“What were you doing out there, anyway?” A vehement howling emphasised my point.
“It was fine when I went out! I wanted to clear my head before I started working on new material, so I went for a walk.” A particularly expressive shrug. “Then everything just went crazy!” A swallow, and a contented sigh. “Sometimes it’s nice to get caught in the rain, but . . .”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“Oh, really?” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Do you now?”
“Really. Once I made my girlfriend come out in the middle of a downpour so we could kiss dramatically in the rain.” I couldn’t help but grin at the memory. “She said I was an idiot who watched too many movies.”
“You don’t really seem like the Four Weddings & a Funeral type.”
“Ha! No, Streets of Fire.” God, she was lovely. And naked under that robe.
“Well, I guess that makes me the damsel-in-distress, and you’ve come to my rescue . . .”
“I always wanted to be a hero! Kinda thought it would be harder than just opening the door, to be honest.”
“Well, don’t let it go to your head.” Was she sidling up closer? I could have been imagining it.
Taylor finished her hot chocolate, scooped up an errant marshmallow with an elegant finger, and popped it into her mouth. A look of sheer satisfaction spread on her ever-so-pretty face. “Ahhh, this is nice though, isn’t it?” She rested her head on my shoulder and I knew I wasn’t imagining it. “Romantic, even . . .”
For a while we just sat there on the rug in companionable quiet, just the two of us all cosy and warm whilst the storm raged outside. We didn’t have much in common, or know each other at all, but it didn’t matter; we were just two people outside of our everyday lives, thrown briefly together by sheer chance.
She turned her head and looked me straight in the eye, an unspoken question hanging in the air between us. I knew if I thought about it at all I’d never do it, so I leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. For a moment the sick fear that I’d made a terrible mistake lurched through me; then vanished utterly when I felt her reciprocate eagerly. I tasted rain and chocolate.
We began making out in a way I hadn’t done since I was a teenager with my first girlfriend, smothering each other with kisses and embracing tightly, all lips and tongues and trying to get as close as possible. My hand slipped under the folds of her robe, felt the smooth warmth of her skin, I put my arm round her waist and held her tight.
After what felt like forever she shrugged out of the robe and stood up, standing before me totally naked in the firelight. She looked perfect
, pert, toned, and utterly confident in her body, a not-quite-angelic smile on her face.
It took me a moment to understand the quizzical expression on her face; then I took my cue to stand up and disrobe as well. I felt the urge to just tear my clothes off and toss them away, but I somehow I was afraid I’d look silly, so instead I undressed carefully and folded my clothes neatly. Which must have looked even sillier. When I turned round, Taylor looked me up and down with a smile; then she looked down again and grinned.
“I knew it, guys only ever want one thing . . .” She stepped closer to me, encircling me with her arms and pulling me close, nuzzling against my neck.
I put my lips to her ear and whispered “Oh, I want lots of things . . .” and was rewarded with a sparkling laugh.
Taylor pushed me away gently, and lay down on the rug, the fire blazing behind her. I got down atop her lithe, eager body, our gazes locked. Then she fluttered her eyelashes and melodramatically whispered “Be gentle with me!”, and it was my turn to laugh.
I kissed her again and again, moving from her lips down her elegant neck to her pert breasts. My achingly hard cock was pressed against her taut tummy, and as I wriggled back a little I felt it slide over flawless skin, through neatly trimmed hair, and onto the softness of her pussy. I held it there a moment, kissed her once more, and slowly slid inside her. She bit her bottom lip, somehow making herself look even cuter, then sighed in pleasure as I filled her.
Her tight wet warmth felt wonderful as I thrust into her as deeply as I could, and the look of mounting bliss on her sweet face made it feel all the more pleasurable. Taylor lay beneath me taking everything I had to give her, one hand resting on my shoulder and the other clawing at the rug. With every thrust she gave the sweetest moans, breathing harder and harder as she grew increasingly flushed. Not that I was any calmer; the sweat beading my face and chest had nothing to do with the fire blazing nearby.
If it had been up to me, I would have fucked myself into her until I came like an animal. Fortunately Taylor still had a little self-control left. She put a hand on my chest and pushed me away, gently but insistently. “Slow down honey, don’t waste it . . .” I knew she was right, and with a groan I pulled out.
Taylor lounged back with her hands behind her head; she could almost have been sprawled out on soft grass, watching the clouds on a warm spring day. Well, apart from being stark naked, sweaty, and obviously mid-fuck, of course. I picked up where I’d left off earlier, kissing her tits and down her stomach until my face was up against her perfect pussy. Naturally, I didn’t stop there.
Her cunt was as wet as the storm outside, but much warmer and far more inviting. Eagerly I worked my tongue into her velvet folds, licking and slurping at her snatch, burying my face hungrily in her.
Eating Taylor Swift’s pussy was, of course, its own reward; but hearing her breathy moans mingle with the wind and rain was the cherry on top. She sounded almost as good as she tasted, all the more so when her voice started to catch and I knew she was struggling to control herself.
I felt a hand on the back of my head; I expected it to pull me in hard, holding my face there to lap, lick, and suck an orgasm out of her. Instead it pulled me back. As I lifted myself from her, Taylor rolled over and rose onto all fours, turning her head to look over her shoulder at me with an expression of pure hunger.
This time there was going to be no stopping, no pulling back, no drawing it out any longer. I took her from behind, squeezing her ass as my throbbing cock slid into her sopping snatch. Taylor pushed back on me as I thrust into her, giving her every inch as hard as I could, the two of us coupling in pure animal lust. For a moment I forgot all about the storm, the house, everything except fucking her and hearing those honey-sweet squeals. I drove my cock into her with everything I had and in no time we were both on the brink, fucking desperately in front of the fire.
Taylor’s squeals broke into a ragged groan and her whole body seemed to quiver as she came, hard. That was more than enough to finish me off, and with one last balls-deep thrust I exploded inside her spasming pussy, cum erupting out of my cock in spurt after endless spurt.
When the last drop had been milked out of my overstimulated prick, I pulled out and the two of us collapsed besides each other. For a few minutes we lay there in a sweaty post-orgasmic heap, grinning helplessly as we slowly got our breath back.
My mind had gone pleasantly blank and I was slowly coming to my senses, enjoying the feel of the rug, the heat of the fire, the sound of the rain. If I’d been any more relaxed you could have carried me out in a bucket. I was brought back to my senses when Taylor unexpectedly (but not unpleasantly) nibbled on my ear and purred “Take me to bed, honey”, low and sensuous.
I roused myself, clambered unsteadily to my feet, stretched. “How could I refuse?” I bowed and gestured towards the door. “After you! Top of the stairs and first on the left.” Taylor curtsied, and strode across the room.
The moment we stepped out of the front room we realised how cold
the house had gotten away from the fire, yelping, shivering, and helplessly giggling.
“Ooh, hurry!” Taylor headed up the stairs quickly. “And don’t think I don’t know why you let me go first!”
“I don’t know what
you mean!” I followed a few steps behind, her cute little ass directly in my eyeline. We made it into the bedroom and practically leapt into the pillow-heaped bed, sliding under the covers hurriedly.
!” She was right, but I figured we could warm each other up easily enough. We held each other close, the heat of each other’s body mingling with our own until the chill was gone. Then we kept holding each other close, because it felt so good to be wrapped up together in a warm bed in a cold house. “Mmmm, now it’s my turn . . .”
Taylor slipped down under the covers and I felt her mouth trailing down my chest, just slow enough to be teasing. Just her breath on my rapidly-stiffening cock was enough to get it fully hard again in no time, and her talented mouth on it made me gasp. She sucked, licked, kissed it, working my rock-hard cock with incredible skill, constantly switching up her technique. One moment she’d be throating my full length, the next teasing the head with the tip of her tongue, then lapping at my balls . . . I was on cloud nine, and the fact that I couldn’t see what she was doing because of the blanket made it even more erotic.
She pulled her heavenly mouth off my shaft sloooowwwwly
, wriggled her way up onto me, and I heard a muffled giggle. Next thing, she yanked the blankets up and over me until the two of us were wrapped up closely together under the covers. I felt a finger pressed against my lips, and a hand snaking down between our bodies to hold my aching prick in place; I took the hint and let her take control.
Taylor slid down onto me carefully, her perfect pussy taking me in deliciously as her sweat-damp breasts squashed against my chest. After a few moments of stillness, she started to work her hips back-and-forth, riding me with just enough movement to make me feel it. If I hadn’t already cum earlier I’d probably have been out of my mind with frustration; but after the fast and hard sex we’d had downstairs, being curled up together in a slow, snuggly cuddlefuck was just perfect.
She worked us towards orgasm with exquisite care, keeping her rhythm without missing a beat or speeding up, milking my cock slowly and thoroughly. A finger on my lips turned into a finger in my mouth, and I sucked on it gently without really knowing why, Taylor’s breathing the only clue that she was getting as near as I was. And I was close, feeling it build inside me and just letting it happen.
When it finally did happen, it was wonderful, the two of us cumming against each other in a woozily slow mutual orgasm. She didn’t cry out, or moan, but instead gave a drawn-out sigh as she nuzzled against my shoulder; I would
have moaned, but I still had her fingers in my mouth.
Once we’d both come back down to Earth, we disentangled ourselves from each other and from the sheets we’d been cocooned in. I drifted off to sleep, lulled by the sound of what was either Taylor whispering sweet nothings, the rain outside, or both.