Lily's Viewpoint
I never had an issue with temptation until I met Adam. I've always been quite devout, and despite any other transgressions I committed, I managed to steer clear of lust. But everything changed after dating Adam. As a child, I wasn't particularly fond of boys, but Adam turned that around. His captivating green eyes made me feel like he truly understood me, while his cheeky smile would brighten up my world. Before long, I started seeking him out wherever I went, and when I saw him, I had to restrain my urge to mess with his curly dark hair. He often flirted with me or made mild compliments, but I couldn't determine whether he was genuine or just teasing. After all, that was just Adam – playful, mischievous, and showman-like. However, in those rare instances when he revealed his true self, he implored me to stay away from him. Despite this, it took time for me to understand that he actually felt the same about me as I did him. I was about average height, skinny with brown hair, pale skin, blue eyes, and small breasts, glasses, and I wasn't considered attractive in the traditional sense. Then, I'd catch his gaze lingering on my chest or on my bottom a little longer than necessary. In those moments, the mischievous grin would vanish, and his gaze would be filled with intensity, a force I can only describe as yearning. Yet, this was relaxing for me, as it usually came from him. Eventually, we admitted our feelings and began dating.
There I was, in Adam's parents' hot tub, with our knees touching, his hand grazing my back and my hand on his arm, appreciating the strength of his bicep. I'd never fully observed his body before without his shirt, so was relieved to see that his workouts had paid off. His muscular chest got my heart racing, and I felt the urge to touch his chest, but was hesitant fearing his parents could be spying on us. I didn't want to mislead him. Kissing and touching were fine, but we decided on no sex before marriage, and I didn't want him to misconstrue it. However, his hands began moving. His hand stroked my lower back, while his lips brushed against my neck. I couldn't hold back a gasp. It was as if he knew exactly what to do to pique my excitement. I silently hoped his parents weren't watching while trying to focus, but my mind was getting cloudy. His hand stroked higher up my back and his lips kissed below my jaw. My thighs trembled, and his other hand moved toward my thigh.
My instincts warned me, (This is getting out of hand,) I thought. (We ought to stop.) I moved from him and took a look at his face. His cheeks were flushed, and his gaze was unyielding, hungry. He grinned at me, displaying his endearing look when I did something adorable or when I wore his favorite outfit. My heart palpitated.
"Let's get in the pool," I suggested. It was time to cool off and somehow work out this overwhelming sensation. I swam laps, but none of them slowed him down. He stood in the middle of the pool, watching me as I swam. I could feel his gaze as I passed, but thankfully, most of my body was beneath the water. But on certain laps, as I swam toward him, he gracefully swooped in, brushing his hand along my back. This felt innocent enough, but his actions weren't limiting to that. As I approached him in later laps, he'd rush toward me with a naughty grin, and then scoop me up just before I reached him, holding me there for a moment, offering me a quick embrace in his strong arms.
"What's this?" I flirtatiously inquired.
"Nothing," he responded with a smirk, and then released me.
This pattern continued for a short while more, but he eventually stopped. (He's like a mindless machine,) I silently though, (Can't he think of anything else but wanting to touch my body?)
In front of me, he halted a few feet away, making me feel slightly penned in between him and the wall of the swimming pool at my back. His face underwent a transformation from the impish grin to his familiar loving smile. Much like those Sour Patch Kids advertisements, he would switch from bitter to sweet, from mocking skepticism to exquisite fondness. I enjoy sour confections, thus it's understandable that I would fall in love with him.
With his fingers on my sun-kissed shoulders, he gently massaged them. My bosom felt somewhat snug in my swimsuit, and my lower body tingled.
(I adore him.)
I closed my eyes, leaned towards him, and kissed him. This was my first kiss - his as well, as far as he's informed - and it proved to be slightly uncomfortable. I was taken aback by my own aggressiveness, and he seemed similarly surprised. He responded with gentleness and determination, pressing me against the wall. My heart raced, and my abdomen was filled with butterflies. My skin grew hotter as I leaned into him, and I placed my hands on his chest. I longed to get even closer, but I hesitated. I experienced a sense of thankfulness and, admittedly, a tad of disappointment as he maintained a certain distance between our pelvises. It felt both frightening and electric to be pushed against the wall like this. I felt fragile and minuscule; I felt as though I belonged to him for whatever he desired. For the time being, that meant his lips pressing against mine, but if things continued, the situation could get dicey. We ended the kiss, and without much hesitation, his lips returned to my neck. I'm not sure if I groaned, yet it was difficult to focus while enduring his neck caress. I glanced up at the house. Thankfully, the view was mostly shrouded by a tree, so it's unlikely that his parents were watching us. Possibly. Despite my excitement increasing and his growing more energetic, I felt more sinful.
(We must cease,) I considered. (If this escalates...)
I distanced myself from him. He gave me a hazy gaze, alerting me that he too was losing control. I took a deep breath.
"Let's...go back inside," I stated, my expression as calm as possible.
He nodded, looking dejected but attempting to hide it. "Okay."
We went outside, with me taking the lead. As I climbed out of the shallow beach of the pool, I could feel his gaze upon me, squatting close enough to be an ambusher. I shivered, not just from the chilled water on me. As we walked towards our towels, I wished I owned another swimsuit. This faded teal bikini was a leftover from my youthful days, and at this moment, it seemed too small, revealing, and excessively revealing. His eyes started to glimmer when I cautioned him about it, which gave me conflicting sentiments: I felt remorse for stirring him on and leading him on, but there was also satisfaction in realizing that he could be so delighted simply due to me and my body. We reached our towels, and extending one to him, I held the towel out. He took it, bending over for reasons that still baffle me. As we proceeded to pat ourselves dry, he unfolded the towel to drape over himself, only to stiffen his pose. His posture straightened, causing my gaze to stray to his pelvis, where I saw that something else had stiffened beneath the fabric of his shorts. He covered himself just in time, but looking at him, it appeared that he might have caught my glance. I felt mortified.
(Oh dear.)
He, however, did not indicate any discomfort.
(He's probably embarrassed too.)
Attempting to avert his gaze, we reentered the house.
I relish being the small spoon. I love his embrace. His bed smells like him, and he smells like him, so when I'm his spoon, I feel as if I'm entirely wrapped in his aroma. He exudes a calming, warm, earthy scent, similar to campfire ashes or the scent of mole sauce. As we snuggle, he prefers to wrap one arm around my head and the other on my breast, covered by my bra and the material of my dress. Although it may sound improper, it just feels natural and comfortable. As we cuddle in bed, he began to slide his hand down my torso. He touched my waist, and then my abdomen. As I gasped, I placed my hand on his.
(Oh my goodness.)
My stomach flared like fireworks had been ignited upon it.
He paused. "Are you okay?"
I nodded. "I'm fine. I think my stomach is simply overly sensitive."
He stalled for a moment before inquiring, "Sensitive in what way?"
"I'm not sure. It feels good, I guess."
He froze. [
(Oh dear, did I scare him off? I shouldn't have said that; now he must think I'm a peculiar one.)
Adam, however, took hold of his hand and gently traced my tummy with his fingers. I began squirming.
(Ah, that feels so divine!)
I placed my hands on top of his, halting him. I resumed normal breathing. I wanted to be closer to him, so I scooted back into him. There was a narrow space between us due to his bulky arm, but I tried to push it out of the way. I gingerly reached back to touch it, but a fabric barrier hindered me. I was puzzled.
"Is that your arm?" I questioned.
He grinned half-heartedly, looking a touch baffled and interested, before lifting both his arms still around me.
"Indeed. That's my third arm."
For a couple of seconds, I remained motionless, suddenly realizing what he meant. I averted my gaze from him, feeling rather self-conscious and extremely foolish. I wanted to roll my eyes at myself.
(Great. Now I'm doing a perfect imitation of a pervert...And they can indeed grow that large?)
I tingled all over.
Adam drew nearer to me, positioning himself so that if I shifted back a bit, I would collide with "it" again. His right hand glided across me, clasping my waist before turning his attention back to my stomach. I held my breath as he resumed his soothing strokes, gently tracing his fingers at first, gradually stepping up to applying full pressure with his whole palm. I issued a shaky exhalation and began twisting and contorting, powerless to withstand the waves of ecstasy that were washing over me. My hands moved back to his of their own volition and, in a meek attempt at stopping him, I weakly tried to move them away, but he instead held both my arms in one hand and raised them above my head, pinning my rebellious arms in defiance. I didn't know what to do. I knew he wouldn't hurt me, but it felt like I was losing control and I was strangely into it.
"No, no, no, no..." I heard myself mumble faintly.
Adam, nevertheless, paid no attention to my protests. He immobilized my arms with one hand and pleasured me the way he saw fit with the other. He intertwined light strokes with strong swipes, triggering one intensity spiral after another, seamlessly arranging the keys to switch on the power against my body.
(Goodness me. How does he know what to do?)
I was growing restless. I detached from him, tugging down my dress to expose my purple panties to him. It made no difference. I longed for his touch on bare skin. I felt my legs rubbing together and realised that within a few moments, my panties would be soaked. A part of my brain, or potentially my pelvis, signalled that I had a dilemma to be addressed, and it felt as though the solution to my issues could be found just behind me, near where Adam's pelvis was. My instincts urged me to edge back on my feet. Doing so, I stumbled upon "that thing" again. I started squirming, stealthily endeavouring to sense its shape and size. It felt solid. I mean, yes, "it" felt solid but it was almost as if it was struggling to break free of its cotton and nylon confinement. Yet it still felt like a monster eager to burst free and exert its power over me.
(This is wrong. I can't...let this continue for longer. But maybe a little while longer is acceptable, right?)
"What are your plans?" I inquired casually.
He lifted his eyebrows with an act of feigned innocence.
"Nothing," he retorted carelessly.
I remained still, waiting anxiously, yearning, and a little furious.
"Why?" He wondered. "Are you asking me to accomplish a task?"
(What's off about him?)
His hand hovered barely above my stomach, just a mere centimeter away. At times his fingers barely grazed the surface of my skin.
I didn't utter a word for a while, then in a tiny voice, I whispered, "I want you to touch my tummy."
In reply, he tipped his head closer, his hot breath in my ear as he murmured, "I love you Lily."
At that instant, his hand, which had hovered just over my stomach for so long, suddenly dropped onto it like a predator. Ravenously, he dragged his fingers across my stomach and tugged at the skin. Not difficult enough to hurt, yet unbearable. I gasped, struggling not to yell, and my hands shot to block his. Adam, however, grabbed them with his free hand and held them back over my head. I was confined, yet this time I had invited the beast in. My mind became confused and engulfed in a fog as every reason was lost to insanity; I was like a ship tossed in a storm at sea, determinedly clinging to reality. I groaned and whimpered as I thrashed like Leviathan, only praying to be perforated if it would free me from this agony. It felt like forever being captured in his hold, it felt like the entire world would crumble before he would free me. I sensed something stirring in me, something beyond my control, something terrifying and inescapable and magnificent. It had to cease.
(This needs to cease! Before, before...)
"Stop!" I exclaimed. "Fairly, stop!"
He let me go and moved backward. I took a second to catch my breath. I peered at him. He seemed troubled.
"Allow me...let me perform something for you," I offered.
I rubbed his stomach, striving to stroke it as he stroked mine, but he shook his head.
"I don't believe I'm sensitive there like you are."
"Is there anything I can do to satisfy you?" I inquired, disheartened. "Apart from, you know," and I mimicked a pumping motion with my proper hand.
He stared at my hand pumping and gave it a distanced look. Then he paused for a moment, contemplating, before signaling to his chest.
"Attempt touching here."
I brought my hand to the region he indicated and started manipulating it. As my thumb grazed the material covering his nipple, he gave a slight jerk and moaned.
After pausing, I attempted that again, tweaking his nipple. His body jumped a little and he moaned again. Success!
I moved the fingertips on his nipples, speeding up and slowing down, trying various angles and various fingers, feeling other parts of his chest every now and then as well. He initially struggled a bit, but he started to calm down and relax a tad. His groans became more subdued and less frantic, but he seemed to adore it.
The angle was slightly awkward, so I hoisted my leg over him, straddling his waist as he placed his palms on my legs. I then began unbuttoning his shirt, unbuttoning the flaps, uncovering his chest. I next began tweaking his nipples unobstructed. This induced him to jump into me for a moment and then he settled down again. Having his thing so near my hindquarters felt more than a tad naughty, but I wanted to pay him back for what he had done to me. His face contorted with pleasure at first, but as it continued, he simply gazed at me from head to toe, his green eyes attempting to focus through the haze in them. His eyes settled on my face, his expression depicting contentment and relaxation. I became overheated and aroused once more, and I fervently hoped that he couldn't feel that through the layers between us. Eventually, yet, Adam's palms departed from my legs and rested on my waist, palming my stomach. His right palm explored my stomach, while his left palm palmed my bosom. I tilted forward so that he could get more of my breast in his palm while I let out a coquettish groan. Concentrating on tweaking his nipples and massaging his chest gave my hands something to do, so I felt no urge to remove his.
(This is okay, I mean this is good, I mean...we'll stop soon...I'll...ughh...)
My legs were squeezing his waist of their own accord, I only had to get closer, or...something. I definitely needed something.
I gazed down at him. His chest rising as he regulated his breath, his face displaying that he was combating the haze to please me, his concentration and his hunger so evident as he focused on pleasing me in return.
Oh my, he's so good-looking, isn't he? Almost irresistible. It's just that I... want him.
I was also feeling hungry, so I leaned forward and kissed his lips, trying to swallow his scent and to take some pieces of him into me. He kissed me back passionately, lustfully, sticking his tongue into my mouth and sucking it. I accepted it willingly, savoring his taste. Adam excitedly thrust his hips, making his hands leave my chest and moving to lift up my dress. I felt vulnerable having my skirt raised up, but it felt nice to be touched and my cheeks spread apart. My emotions were going crazy.
Then I moved my lips away the kiss and attached them to his nipple. I licked it, then sucked on it. And soon enough, I bit it a bit with my teeth. He delivered an approving smile and whispered, "You're such a good girl, Lily."
I was extremely aroused now, feeling like I was sitting on a stove.
(Oh no, I cannot bear this. He knows exactly what to do to me.)
I lifted my head from his nipple and started to move my hips backwards and forwards. I was struggling against my desires.
(I need... oh my God, I need more.)
I tore my dress down and threw it off. habitually I would've been appalled to be seen in just my panties and my bra, but then and there my embarrassment, ability to reason and my moral guidelines had been pushed to the center of my brain, utterly demoted. Something else was in control.
"I feel like an animal" I complained, a slight bit of my previous embarrassment slipped out.
Adam's gaze became scrutinizing, I could see hunger in his eyes but nothing else.
His hands moved back to my hips, pushing them down against him encouragingly, before beginning to rock them back and forth. He alternated between holding my hips and feeling my stomach and breasts. If I slowed down, he would rekindle my momentum by nudging me where needed. He was in control and I had to obey.
Grinding my hips against his and playing with his body while he stoked the fire of pleasure in me, didn't sate my desires, but it controlled them. I didn't need anything more as long as he was in charge. I just needed this to continue.
I opened my eyes and saw him looking pained. I realized.
"Sorry," I switched forward. "That must be painful, with your-"
"It's OK," he replied. "It's just a little uncomfortable when it's confined like that."
"Not your trousers?" I asked.
"Yup," he confirmed.
I frowned and hesitated.
(That's it, I should leave.)
However, Adam said "Here" and signaled me to get off.
To my surprise, he discarded his shorts and stripped his shirt entirely, now in just his red boxers. He then signaled for me to climb back onto him.
(Uhm, does he want to do things to me using his package lurking in there?)
Cautiously, I returned on top of him.
(We're still wearing our underwear.)
But we picked up right where we left off, me grinding against him while he passionately pleasured me. His hands played with my hips, coasted over my thighs, raked my stomach, pinched my breasts through my bra, pulled my buttocks apart, and petting the bare skin revealed by my torn dress. In response I groped his kipples, caressed his chest, stroked his hair, and shared several kisses with him. Underneath me, and most of my body exposed to his hand, eyes and breath, it felt like we were naked and doing it without the formalities. But the constant rumbling of his third arm tenting my panties made its voice loud and intense. The more it touched my buttocks, the more I desired it to do so. It was thrilling if not so satisfying.
He stopped me, "Is this OK?"
I shakily agreed, "Yes", slightly frustrated.
But surprisingly, he stood up and pulled my shorts down, throwing them away as well. He then lay down with me on top of him. He was a sight to see.
(No way, he wants to do stuff with his thing encased in that?)
But again, I resumed our previous activities, grinding my body against his while he caressed me here and there. His hands were everywhere, he made sure I was thoroughly pleased. I, in return, stimulated his nipples, caressed his chest, mussed up his hair and feasted off his lips. My panties rubbing against his torso and most of my skin was on display, making me feel like we were really going at it without the barriers of clothing. But his hands beneath my dress and his eyes on my torso made this exposure all the more exhilarating. And with my wet panties slipping onto his bare chest and so much flesh exposed to his hands, his cock, and his gaze, the third arm felt alarmingly more present. The more it brushed my buttocks, the more I desired it to do so. It was an intense ride.
Adam seemed to reach his limit suddenly, sitting up strongly and placing one hand on my lower back and the other on my stomach. While doing this, he rubbed me with his right while holding me in his lap using his left hand. This put us in a more perilous position though, as his third arm was now pointed directly at me. Despite this, he leaned forward to kiss me. Responding to his kiss, I started moving back and forth, rubbing his pole against my entrance. The air in the room had become a potent blend of Adam's enticing scent and the aroma of my own arousal. Following the kiss, I whimpered in his ear, to which he replied by growing more vocal in mine own. However, I started feeling exhausted and had to lean back, supporting myself on my arms on his bed while he kept thrusting and grinding against me. This wasn't enough for Adam, as he soon growled and pushed himself up on his knees before lowering himself back onto me. He lined up the tent in his boxers with my entrance and pushed down, pushing a portion of my panties into me.
I gasped loudly.
(Oh my God, I could feel it inside me — just for a moment, it felt like my entrance was being opened and invaded.)
In response, I wriggled against him, craving more. On top of me, he continued to viciously thrust down onto me, his hidden member sliding my panties across my entrance: it was shockingly intense.
(I need to be filled. I feel so empty, I need it inside.)
Adam brought his lips down on the breast above my bra, then laid his whole body weight on top of me while he continued to thrust and grind against my entrance. I was pushing back against him too, trying to help him find his way in and guide him deep inside me. In this position, I was experiencing genuine stimulation, and seeing his increased force, it seemed like he was gaining momentum as well. Something was brewing; something was forming within me. I needed to get there. We kept thrusting, with him picking up speed and grunting fiercely the entire time. He was becoming more urgent, more desperate, as if he was getting closer and closer to something. I desired him to be closer to me, and I wanted to get there as well, so I looped my legs around him and drew him in even closer. His arms wrapped around my back, his rod in his boxers thrusting against my panties, the wave that had been developing finally broke, and I felt myself shudder as an overwhelming wave of pleasure gripped my senses, causing me to lose myself in it. I moaned and roared like a wild beast as I gave in to this demonic grip, my entire being consumed by it. As I writhed and shuddered, he grunted and groaned incessantly before abruptly freezing, then jerking forward with a sudden surge, pushing me further onto my bed. I felt something hot splash onto my panties, and he slid back slightly before impaling me a few more times, adding more hot, thick liquid to my panties. Eventually, he stayed still, then completely relaxed on top of me. Both of us were gasping heavily. After catching his breath, Adam rolled over and gave me a friendly peck on the shoulder.
I closed my eyes and indulged in the post-orgasmic afterglow.
(Oh my God, what am I going to do now?)
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