Until around 5 PM. Then the rain came.
I was wearing my classic denim jeans with the leather stripes down the side and the biker leather reinforcement My Wesco Jobmasters were laced up tight, hugging my ankles and calves, almost up to my knees. A black t-shirt soaked with sweat, and a singletail around my waist. When the rain came though I knew I needed a costume change.
I ran to the TES table and fished for my bag underneath. Inside the bag I searched for the garment I packed just for the occasion, a neoprene shirt that zipped up skin tight, the sleeves short enough to leave a hint of my tattoo and my cutting visible. And then I ran and found spikydave, with whom a date was previously arranged, and put my master plan into action.
See, despite leathermen being all gruff and rough and manly, when the rain comes down, they run as fast as they can to shelter. Some people think leather should never get wet, I say it's skin and can handle some wetness now and then. But I digress.
When the crowd parted, a full open street was left. And right in the middle was a St. Andrews cross, so thoughtfully hosted by MAsT. I turned to Spikey Dave, and said now. Now? he replied. Yes, now.
It was beautiful. With my friends sir_lone_wolf and njlexi keeping the unwary out from my swing radius, I aimed at the beautiful boy standing topless before me. The rain sliding down my neoprene, down my hair, down my cheeks, my singletail flew through the wetness of the air. Every crack of the whip brought with it an extra burst of water mist, and then the slight writhing of his body.
We went three rounds, pausing to kiss heavily as the rain poured between our faces.