...the outlook immediately becomes more rancid rain to be followed by a few days of dusty flakes to be followed by a few more days of indiscriminate cloudiness with a long-range forecast that delineates the possibility of a string of perfect sunny days, or maybe it's the big Arctic blast covering me with a different kind of string, one made of snow white pearls that she pulls out of her moist vagina and slowly slides up the side of my ass, gently tracing a ticklish route up to my chest, the pearls and their taste of womanly cum hesitating over my mouth until suddenly, without even realizing it, she starts violently choking me around my neck so that I know she's in control and that I have to be better, have to do better, be the one who expectantly lies inside the softness of her digitally-musked nest of sex-driven fractals...