Strangers in the RainSetting: A stormy night in Ikeja, under a bus shelter


She didn’t even know his name.

The rain came suddenly—heavy, angry, blinding. Lagos traffic had come to a halt, and the only dry place in sight was the small concrete shelter at the junction. She dashed in, breathless and drenched, only to realize she wasn’t alone.

He stood in the corner, tall, shoulders soaked, dark eyes fixed on the street—but they flicked to her and didn’t look away. He smiled, not with his lips, but with his eyes—slowly, like they knew her already.

She pulled her dress away from her skin, which clung tight from the rain, nipples pressing boldly through the fabric. She caught him staring. Neither of them looked away.

Minutes passed, thunder rumbling above them like a warning—or an invitation. They didn’t speak, just edged closer, as if moved by the same silent force.

Her breath hitched when his knuckles brushed her waist. He didn’t apologize. He leaned in, voice low and rough.
“You cold?”
She nodded.
“Come closer.”

She did.

Her back pressed against the wall, his palm sliding up her thigh, fingers dipping beneath the edge of her soaked panties. The thrill of being in public made her wetter than the rain ever could. His lips met hers—urgent, unforgiving—and the kiss said everything they didn’t.

His fingers found her heat. She gasped against his mouth, her legs parting instinctively. He worked her slowly, teasing her clit while his lips explored her neck, her collarbone, the curve of her breast. Her moans were muffled by the roar of the rain—and she didn’t care who might see.

Her hands fumbled with his zipper, releasing his need. She stroked him once, twice, and then turned around, bending just slightly—offering herself without a word.

He took her with a growl, sliding into her with one swift thrust. The wall scraped her cheek as she clung to it, biting her lip to keep from screaming. Each thrust sent shockwaves through her, fast and deep, her body clenching tighter with every motion.

He came just as she did, both of them shuddering as the thunder cracked above.

When it was over, they adjusted their clothes in silence, still breathing heavily.

The rain had stopped.

She glanced back at him, eyes wild, lips swollen.
“I didn’t catch your name,” she said.
He smiled again.
“Maybe next storm."

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