Summer Showers

Summer Showers

Say the word ‘summer’ and what do you think of? Sunshine, birdsong and the smell of cut grass. Lazy hours sunbathing on the beach or reading a book under the shade of a tree? Maybe you think of barbecues and kick-abouts in the park. Whatever you imagine, you have to take into account that this is Britain so summer also guarantees something else, and lots of it. RAIN. Rain has spoilt hundreds of planned days out over the years for me and the family and I’ve stood outside under a brolly grilling sausages on the barbecue while my guests huddled inside in the dry more times than I’d like to remember.

And there’s absolutely nothing more annoying than going out on a beautiful, sunny summer’s day wearing a light, floaty dress and your cutest sandals and being caught out in a heavy shower. It happened to me just the other day. My car was in the garage being repaired and I decided as it was such a beautiful day I’d walk to work. That was fine, the sun shone, I got my exercise and felt very happy with myself. It was only when the heavens opened just after I left the office on my way home that it all went downhill and fast.

After a matter of minutes in the pulsating rain I was soaked to the skin, my dress that was ethereal and floaty became skin tight and close to transparent. I was not in a good mood, Diary, I can tell you that. Luckily, Mr Divine was in when I got home and the kids weren’t.

“Oh I like that dress my love,” he exclaimed as I walked in.

“Don’t start,” I snapped, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Aw, sorry, I was just admiring your amazing curves and the way that wet material clings to your gorgeous body. Tell you what, you strip out of the wet clothes and I’ll run you a bath.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, “that’d be great.”

My husband ran me a bath, added bubble bath and even scrubbed my back for me. He was wonderfully attentive and by the time he’d wrapped me in a big fluffy towel, my mood had improved and I was feeling more than a little amorous. Suddenly, getting wet wasn’t such a negative thing after all.

We had to be quick and quiet as the kids could arrive back at any moment. It was one of those hot, instinctive moments of connectivity. It left me breathless and panting. My skin reverberating with the orgasm I’d shared with Mr Divine.

“What’s the weather going to be like tomorrow?” I asked when I’d got my breath back a bit.

“They’re predicting more heavy showers,” he replied, “why?”

“I think I’ll walk home again tomorrow then, I’ve decided I quite like getting wet.”

And actually I do. So when I see showers in the summer weather forecast I no longer moan, I look forward to them. Getting wet makes me feel sexy.