No really, it was blowing a gale outside the tent, the Rain was slamming down like it had a grudge against the earth and as Mike pulled his head back in from braving the elements he told me he wouldn’t be surprised if we got a little thunder and lightning.

“I told you this was a fucking bad idea.” I yelled, “I want to go home.”

“Well, Jo, we could do that but-”

“But what?” I throw my hands in the air, “don’t tell me you’re actually enjoying this.”

“Well, no, that’s not it. It’s just that erm, well. Just look out the tent flap and look at the car.”

I muttered and mumbled, shot evils at my darling boyfriend and crawled passed him to look out into the storm. He passed me a torch so I could see out into the murk. It wasn’t really late but the storm had brought darkness early. Our little car was standing where we parked it except that when we parked it had been on firm solid grass covered ground but now it’s surrounded by a quagmire of mud.

“Fuck.” I cursed, “I told you we should have parked it in the car park.”

“You did no such thing,” Ben exclaimed, “you dragged me in here and fucked my brains out.”

“Well, okay. I meant to tell you we should park on the car park.”

I burst into laughter when I turn and look at him. Sometimes you’ve got to laugh or you’ll cry. When he realised I wasn’t hysterical, he joined in.

“I guess we’re stuck here.” I sighed and clambered back to my sleeping bag beside him.

“Yep,” Ben nodded. “Sorry, Jo. I really thought this would be a lovely bank holiday to remember.”

“Well, we’ll certainly remember it,” I stroked his cheek, “and I’m sure it would have been seriously romantic if the British weather had behaved.”

“Should have known it’d rain. It is a bank holiday after all.”

“Precisely,” I kissed him gently on the lips, “but then God blessed you with brilliant good looks, he couldn’t fit in the brains.”

“Oy!” he yelled and pushed me onto my back. I collapsed in a fit of giggles as he mercilessly tickled my ribs and kissed my neck, “take that back.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” I giggled, “I surrender, you win!”

“Good.” He cooed, “because I really want to fuck you, now.”

As the wind whistled and the canvas flapped and creaked he striped me of my anorak and the layers of clothes beneath. While the rain battered the sides of our tent sounding like a rock fall of some huge proportion he stripped me out of my trousers. We rolled under the picnic blanket, used more for warmth not its original purpose all weekend. And Ben settled himself between my thighs, his trousers kicked off, his t-shirt discarded.

Ben was right, there was thunder and lightning flashes which illuminated the tent with their brightness. I didn’t care though s the storm raged around us. We may have only been separated from it by a few poles and a waterproof sheet but I was too busy wrapping my legs around Ben and pulling him deeper into me. His cock is hard, thick and satisfying and he always rubs me just the way I like. Our breath mingled as we fucked. The scent of hot man blended with squashed grass and my own light, feminine scent to create a perfume I would always remember.

“Fuck, Jo,” he panted after a particularly long rumble of thunder, “I’m gonna come.”

“Hold on,” I gasped and slipped a hand between us, “wait for me.”

He stilled as I rubbed my clit. He was so close to the brink I could feel it in the steel of his body,

“Fuck me now,” I panted, “I’m close, honey, I’m close.”

“Yes,” he growled and forced himself deeper into me, “yes, Jo, come for me.”

We growled and panted, moaned and sweated as the thunder rolled past. I screamed as I came, clamping his throbbing cock as he pumped his orgasm into me.

We lay in each other’s arms and listened to the receding storm.

Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone was moved away from the entrance. She ran at once to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, breathlessly panting, “They took the Master from the tomb. We don’t know where they’ve put him.”

Peter and the other disciple left immediately for the tomb. They ran, neck and neck. The other disciple got to the tomb first, outrunning Peter. Stooping to look in, he saw the pieces of linen cloth lying there, but he didn’t go in. Simon Peter arrived after him, entered the tomb, observed the linen cloths lying there, and the kerchief used to cover his head not lying with the linen cloths but separate, neatly folded by itself. Then the other disciple, the one who had gotten there first, went into the tomb, took one look at the evidence, and believed. No one yet knew from the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead. The disciples then went back home.

But Mary stood outside the tomb weeping. As she wept, she knelt to look into the tomb and saw two angels sitting there, dressed in white, one at the head, the other at the foot of where Jesus’ body had been laid. They said to her, “Woman, why do you weep?”

“They took my Master,” she said, “and I don’t know where they put him.” After she said this, she turned away and saw Jesus standing there. But she didn’t recognize him.

Jesus spoke to her, “Woman, why do you weep? Who are you looking for?”

She, thinking that he was the gardener, said, “Mister, if you took him, tell me where you put him so I can care for him.”

Jesus said, “Mary.”

Turning to face him, she said in Hebrew, “Rabboni!” meaning “Teacher!”

Jesus said, “Don’t cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I ascend to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.’”

Mary Magdalene went, telling the news to the disciples: “I saw the Master!” And she told them everything he said to her.