found this hope you all like it

[kellyp]

It was very nearly midnight when Horinda left Peter's house for the walk home, across the fields, around by the edge of Foxley wood to the next village. It was not a journey to be recommended in the black of night, unless one knew the path well, & with the rain falling this was a dark night indeed. Still, Horinda had been brought up in these parts, she had played in these very same fields & woods as a child, & wearing her trusty mac & sturdy wellingtons, she could see no special danger as she set out. Peter kissed her on the cheek, wished her good night & asked her once more if she would be okay. "Yes of course! Don't worry", replied Horinda dismissively, "I'll be fine". "If you're sure, I could always walk with you". "But you would only have to come back on your own, I'll be okay". She returned his kiss. "Good night Peter" she smiled at him, "& don't worry!" He watched her put up the close fitting hood of her rubberised cotton mac, the steady rain already beginning to darken the dusky pink material around her shoulders. Seeing Horinda like this, standing in the rain in that marvellous mackintosh, double breasted, traditional trench style, the effect on him was always the same, it made him tingle, it made him shudder, he felt very protective towards her & she knew it. Horinda caught the glint in his eye, she smiled. Having tied the hood under her chin, Horinda pulled on her rubber gloves, turned, & walked the few yards to the gate. There, she half turned, waved & wished Peter one last good night, she closed the gate behind her, began walking, & was very soon out of his sight. Horinda walked along the main village street, reached the gap between the two end houses, & turned to follow the public foot path to the village of Harendon. She climbed over the style, difficult in her stiff shiny wellingtons, taking care not to snag the full skirt of her mac on the uprights, & not to slip on the wet wooden step. Soon she was up over the ridge, out of sight of the houses & away from the village lights. The first hundred yards or so of the path were easy as it followed the course of the dry stone wall.

Horinda walked along the main village street, reached the gap between the two end houses, & turned to follow the public foot path to the village of Harendon. She climbed over the style, difficult in her stiff shiny wellingtons, taking care not to snag the full skirt of her mac on the uprights, & not to slip on the wet wooden step. Soon she was up over the ridge, out of sight of the houses & away from the village lights. The first hundred yards or so of the path were easy as it followed the course of the dry stone wall. Horinda walked briskly, the clop, clop of her wellingtons, the sort of sucking sound in the soft earth was having it's effect on her already, she loved that sound, it thrilled & excited her. Then there was the swish of her rubberised mac, that crackling sound. At times she would use exaggerated body movements as she walked to bring out the full audio effects, the flapping, the swishing. Cool, dry, smooth rubber kissed her legs in passing, below the short, paper thin summer frock, the only thing that she was wearing beneath the mac. Peter himself had noticed & remarked that she was not wearing a bra, she had confirmed, no underwear at all. Peter, knowing her as he did, had guessed why, she would want to enjoy the full effect of her mac on the way home. As the path curved away from the wall the rain began to come down a little harder, she was going to enjoy this she thought. A little while later there was that first flash of lightning, a blue flickering across the sky that for a moment showed her the path clearly. There was a long pause, then a distant roll of thunder, not loud, just a grumbling. Horinda, without even realising it pulled her hood forward, it was already well forward covering her hair, it was just a subconscious comforting reaction really. She was not exactly scared of the thunder & lightning, but then again, she was not too fond of it either, her pace quickened.

A breeze was beginning to pick up, more rain, the popping sound on her hood & shoulders, the sharp spattering sound down her front was getting louder. The rubber on her arms was damp, feeling colder as the outer cotton became wetter. She remembered with a thrill the feeling of stone cold rubber through the thin floral dress when she had put the mac on in Peter's house, the thin dress had not been able to hold back the cold at all, lovely! Shivery! Now there was the squelching beneath her rubber boots, the clinking as she walked through puddles, the occasional grit from a rocky outcrop that would sometimes cause a slight stumble. The truth was that in such total darkness she found herself not nearly so sure of the path as she had lead Peter to think, or as she had allowed herself to believe, now, just the first pangs of apprehension were entering Horinda's mind, she thrust her hands a little deeper into the pockets, the rubber lining against her rubber gloves, nice, protecting, comforting. There was another flash, lines zig zaged across the blackness, the time delay to the thunder was shorter, the storm was getting closer, the rain grew heavier the wind a little stronger. Horinda stopped briefly. She pulled her belt one hole tighter, adjusted her wrist straps until they were as tight as she could make them, she undid her hood, pulled it forward again, pulled the draw string much tighter than before & retied it. It was obvious to her that she needed to be well battened down, this was going to be a real storm. She put her hands back in her pockets & walked on, trembling with excitement, with apprehension. She crossed the bridge over Hindle's brook, a little relieved to find herself still on the right path. She heard the water below, normally not much more than a trickle during these summer months, tonight the water rattled over the stones in the bed, there must have been a lot of rain upstream she thought, the direction the storm was now coming from. Inside the upper part of her mac, the thin dress, damp with perspiration was clinging to her body, now, with the wind getting stronger & the outer cotton soaking wet, this perspiration began to strike chill through her, shivery, but in a nice thrilling sort of way. She put her arms around her body, as if to hug herself, she felt cold rubber through her thin damp dress, lovely, loving, beautiful! Horinda's mind was racing, all sorts of thoughts rushing through, very much a mixture of excitement & fear. She was out in her beloved mac in the now pouring rain, that was exciting, she loved it. It was really dark & the path was proving more difficult to follow than she had anticipated, that was causing her some anxiety. Then there was the thunder storm, it was showing every sign of brewing up to become really a bad one with dangerous fork lightening, that was her main fear. If she could not get home before the storm reached it's height then she might be caught out in the open on the high ridge above Harendon, the very thought struck terror through her. She tugged her hood again, seeking the comforting protection of her rubber. Soon she would reach the woods, skirting around the edge to the place where the paths for Harendon & Fernley diverged, further on there would be another footbridge, this time across the small river that ran down from Fernley, then up over the ridge, down the other side & home. Home, thought Horinda, she was probably not even half way there yet.

The thunder was getting louder, the lightning & the sound closer together, the storm was much nearer, the wind was really whipping up. Suddenly the heavens opened, the rain had been pouring down for sometime, but this was something else, this was absolutely torrential, sheets of driving rain carried on the vicious wind were thrown at Horinda one after the other forming an almost continuous wall of water. It threatened to tear back her mac hood, she was forced to hold it in place with both hands, she couldn't see, she leaned forward, bending down into the wind. All this & the uneven path were making it difficult just to stay on her feet. The path at last reached the woods, for a moment she even contemplated taking shelter there, but common sense said that with this lightning around standing under a tree was the last thing she should be doing, she must go on. The wind tugged at her mac, she was still holding onto the hood, the rain driving into her face, the skirt of the mac lashed at her legs, cold wet rubber flapping violently about her. Her legs above the wellingtons were streaming wet, her thin summer frock completely drenched, the wet rubber wiped her across the legs with such force as to be painful, stinging. Still holding onto her hood with one hand, with the other she tried in vain to hold down the skirt of her mac, again it flailed madly out of her grasp. Far from being afraid for herself, in fact the opposite was true, she was excitedly enjoying herself, she was afraid for, believe it or not, her mac, her old & trusty mac, her friend through thick & thin, please don't let my darling rubber mac be torn she prayed, tears welling up. The path seemed to go on forever, still she had not yet reached the point where the path to Fernley parted. The path was dropping down the hillside, keeping her feet was difficult, once or twice she slipped & very nearly fell. Still the torrential rain thrashed her, driving into her in the high wind, the thunder let rip another loud crack overhead. She must be getting near to the bridge over the river by now. She was cold, she was wet through, the wind had driven the rain into her face & past her hood, the water soaking her frock inside, not even her beloved rubber mac could keep out such weather. Inside her wet dress clung to her chilled body, her breasts, cocooned in wet cold cotton & rubber were excited, it was as if they were mocking the cold rain, refusing to be quelled, they were pushing out the rubber bravely. Inside, deep down there was one warm spot, surrounded by the endless darkness, the cold, the wet, there was one warm spot, it felt so nice, comforting, exciting, she held on to that one warm spot. Horinda felt that she must be getting near to the river bridge, but where was the junction in the path? The wind seemed to ease very slightly, but still the rain came in great roaring sheets, clattering over her. More lightning, for one or two seconds everywhere was lit up brightly. It was then that the full horror hit her, a devastating blow. In that second or two of bright light all around her, the scenery had meant nothing, she did not recognise it, she did not know where she was, she was lost! Horinda could feel panic welling up inside her. She was on the wrong path, she must have missed the junction in all that blinding rain. Another jagged line of light flashed through the darkness & down to earth, striking somewhere high on the hillside. In the light she saw the river, but no bridge.

She had an idea of which direction to take, she reasoned that she had to cross the river, she might as well cross here. If she could get across here, then climb the hill, she might with luck see the village, or at least recognise where she was. At this time of year the river was often almost dried up & not even worthy of being called a river, but not tonight. Illuminated by each flash of lightening she tried to judge the depth of the fast flowing water, a foot maybe, but then again it might be two feet deep, or more, far more, & Horinda couldn't even swim. Slowly, bravely, knowing that she was taking her life into her own hands, she gingerly headed into the water, first one foot then the other. She felt the cold fast flowing water squeezing the rubber around her ankles. Further in she went, holding out her arms for balance, like a tight rope walker, the water rising. She was not even half way across yet, there was another bright flash, crazy lines zipped across the sky & down to earth. Still the rain beat down on her mac, the cotton long since totally saturated. The water was now pressing the rubber around her calves, gripping her legs tightly, it was up to the hem of the mac. Inch by inch she waded further in, slowly, the water now near to the tops of her wellingtons. Horinda let out a cry, a gasp, her breath was taken away, the water flooded over & filled her left wellington followed a second or two later by the right one.

If the wind & rain had seemed cold, then that was as nothing compared with what the poor girl felt now. Her feet & legs were now in ice water, she was freezing, shivering with the intense cold. Horinda just stood there, shaking. Water everywhere, in her wellingtons, up to her thighs, & still tumbling out of the sky unabated. She must go on, or she would die of exposure just standing here thought Horinda, her breathing began to return, short & snatched, erratic. Slowly she edged still further towards the middle of the river, trying to keep her balance in the fast flowing water, there were lots of stones in the river bed making it difficult, then, she tripped on just such a stone, down she went. Down on her knees, then her body dipped beneath the water, only at the last moment did she get her hands down in front of her, stopping her fall, just managing to prevent her head from going under as well. Horinda's breathing which had just been returning was snatched away from her again. It was as if she had been thumped hard in the stomach, she was winded, she couldn't breath, when she tried it was painful. She felt the air being pushed out past her collar as the freezing torrent of water burbled & flooded up inside her mac. It was unbelievably cold, she was on her hands & knees up to her neck in the middle of the fast flowing icy cold river, trying desperately to hold her head back to avoid going completely under, the water lapping at her chin. Her mouth was wide open but the poor girl could not breath. The cold was paralysing, she was shaking again, vibrating, she could not stop, the water was flowing straight through her mac. She could feel her breasts floating inside the thin dress in their water filled rubber prison, a most peculiar feeling, her small nipples, hard, defiant, trapped inside the mac, passing on sensation after sensation. The flowing river washer the the skirt of her mac up between her legs, cold wet rubber flapping between her legs, silly really thought Horinda for an instant, but it thrilled her, excited her, she felt in a way, wonderful, despite the impending danger of drowning. For a fleeting moment the thought flashed through her mind that it would be so easy to let go, feeling wonderful, she only had to relax her arms, the water would close in over her hood, so simple, so easy, was this how life ebbed away?

No! No! Mentally she shook herself, steeled herself to go on. Horinda tried to regain her feet but she could not move. She just had to stay there, waiting for her breathing & some strength to return. She was looking up, the rain fell on her face, again the lightning flashed, again the thunder crashed. She tried again to move, the desperation somehow gave her strength, strength that she thought had all gone, slowly she sat back on her heels, still shaking, still up to her waist in the bitterly cold water. The sleeves & the upper part of her mac were still full of water, the tight wrist straps & belt around her waist reluctant to let it drain away. As she tried with every last ounce of her failing strength to rise to her feet she felt the full weight of the that water, almost pulling her down again, then slowly it escaped. Slowly she edged towards the bank, still shaking, still freezing, she could not feel her legs, but the water was less deep now. At last she reached the edge, gained a foot hold in the mud. Horinda was out of the river, not a moment to soon, her body was becoming numb, all sensation had been leaving her. She must go on she thought, desperation drove her on, she must get out of this storm, the lightning was getting worse, in a short time from now it would be overhead, at it's worst & she was still not sure where she was exactly. Horinda climbed away from the river, staggering, hardly able to walk on legs that felt like wooden stumps, there was not even a path to follow, her wellingtons were still full of water, she must empty them, but she would never get them of, if she did she might not get them back on again, her feet were numb with the cold. She sat down in the wet grass, lifted her feet into the air, it was not easy with the weight of water in the boots, she was also very weak now. The water cascaded out. "Onward, you must get on", her brain was saying to her over & over. It seemed forever before she got to the top of the hill, the rain was still frenzied, wiped up on the wind.

Horinda had never been so happy to see the flickering lights of Harendon below & to the right. She was some distance from her intended path, but at least she new where she was. Her relief however was short lived. When the crazy lines of lightning flashed the thunder growled instantly, the storm was over her head, her worst nightmare was happening. Horinda knew enough about physics to know that wearing rubber, particularly rubber boots, would help to protect her against being struck by lightning. At the same time she knew that all her rubber wear was very wet & that was not so good, besides how thick did the rubber soles of her wellingtons need to be? One thing was for sure, out here in the open on the top of Harendon ridge, she was the tallest thing around. There was another flash, bright blue light fizzed around her, instantly the thunder crashed. She felt her skin prickle, was that warmth she felt through her mac? Surely not, the rain was still cold & torrential. The awful truth dawned, she had very nearly been struck, she must get down, there was no point standing here acting like a lightning conductor. Without another moments thought she hurled herself to the ground, she lay flat, face down in the mud. Instantly there was another flash, more sharp lines of light across the angry sky. She had not flung herself to the ground a moment too soon, again she felt that sharp prickle, the shorter hairs on her head were trying to stand up under her hood. The thunder, so loud, crashed & seemed to bounce along the ground, still the rain howled down in buckets.

Was she ever going to get out of this? she asked herself choking back tears that were welling up in her eyes. Horinda lay there not daring to move, not even to lift her head for fear of being struck by the vicious lightening. Every time there was a flash Horinda felt the effect on her skin. She felt more wet than she had ever thought possible, the front of her mac & her face too were caked with wet sticky mud, from lying face down on this bogey wet ground, but she had to stay here, for now at least. The back of her mac, face up to the sky was washed clean by the intense rain, the dark pink cotton saturated, but still the thin rubber held the water at bay, totally in vain now of course, with what she had been through she was as wet on the inside as she was out, her thin dress inside her rubberised mac, soaked & clinging to her. Horinda thought that she had never felt more intense cold either, & certainly she had never felt more scared in her life. Was it that fear, that terror that gripped her, was it that that now brought about the most unexpected change in her. Lying there, face down, helpless, out of all that wet, all that cold, the fear, that warm spot deep inside was spreading. Captured, a prisoner of the storm, helpless in her mac, the thin wet dress clinging, touching all her most intimate places, held closely in her thin wet rubber, squeaking & squelching, it was all making her feel warm. Suddenly she felt so lovely, nasty somehow turning to nice, wave upon wave of beautiful warmth overtook her. She rolled on to her back, her face to the heavens, her mouth wide open, drinking in the cool rain, washing her mud streaked face. This was the ultimate example of what she craved. Fear turned to happiness, cold turned to flames searing through her body, she ran her rubber gloved hands over the wet cotton, the wet rubber mac moved against her, her hands moved down below, oh! Oh...! A long breath was expelled, her eyes rolled back in her head, the lightning flashed across the sky, the thunder crashed as one, the fire erupted, spontaneous combustion, Horinda was consumed.

[MacExp]

Great story, it's a shame he didn't walk her home like a gentleman!

I'm probably going to sound a bit stupid, but at the end did she orgasm? Or did she literally et struck by lightning?

MacExp

[ashim2002]

Nice story

[mrbassman101]

Thank you Kellyp for posting this story .
I remember it from Lorraine's Rainwear Club from the Lakeland Elements site , both now sadly no longer with us .
This story was part of a collection called "Barbara Mackintosh Stories " I believe . I don't suppose you have any more of those stories ?
Best regards mrbassman101

[kellyp]

Hi
Pleased you like it
Sorry I don’t have any others I love stories where rainwear are being used in storms.

[Rainworshipper]

Great story. I find the thought of a woman getting really drenched in her rainwear very erotic. Shame it seems to have her killed at the end.

[kellyp]

As a woman
Being drenched in plastic is erotic
It really had an input on my wife never going out with out a raincoat even I a hot summers day

[TStorm56]

That was a fantastic read, thank you for sharing. Summer downpours are my favorite because the rain is so, well, torrential in nature! I can't say I've ever gotten lost before or totally soaked as I'm usually enjoying the storm from the comfort of my backyard patio chairs clad in heavy rain gear!