Behind the Curtain of "radar of tropical storm debby": Emotional Adventures

Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in radar of tropical storm debby. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In radar of tropical storm debby, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for radar of tropical storm debby. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in radar of tropical storm debby; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in radar of tropical storm debby is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.