Lilys Perspective

Lust had never been my vice. I'm quite religious, and I'd always been pretty good about resisting the temptations of the flesh, whatever my other sins may be. But that all changed after dating Adam. Growing up I was never all that interested in boys, but Adam changed all that. When we would talk I just felt so seen by his dazzling green eyes, and when his face would contort into that devilish smile of his my whole world lit up. Before I knew it, I found myself looking for him wherever I went, and when I would see him I had to restrain myself from tussling his curly dark hair. In our banter he would make sly teasing remarks about me or occasionally compliment me for this or that, but I could never know if he was serious or not. After all, that was just Adam: flirty, teasing, and performative. It was only those rare moments when I got to see the real him, when he truly bared his soul and tried to warn me that he was no good for me. Nevertheless, it took me a while to believe that he felt the same way about me as I did him, as I figured that he just saw me as the serious, mousey religious girl that was fun for him to mess with. As a 5'10 skinny brunette girl with pale white skin, blue eyes, b cup breasts and glasses, I never thought of myself as conventionally attractive, but more than once I would catch him glancing at my chest or my backside a little longer than what was appropriate. In those moments that fiendish smile would disappear and be replaced by an intense seriousness that I could only describe as hunger. From anyone else that look would leave me uneasy, but coming from him I couldn't help but feel a little thrill. Eventually we gave up on trying to hide our feelings for one another, and as our college's summer break began we began dating.

Thus I found myself in his family's hot tub, our knees touching as we sat next to each other, his hand caressing my back. For its part my hand was on his arm, feeling the hardness of his bicep. I knew that he worked out but this was my first time seeing him without his shirt off, and I had to admit that his time at the gym had been worth it. I felt the urge to touch his muscular chest, but I did not dare in case his parents were watching us from the house. Besides, I didn't want to lead him on. Touching like this was fine, but we had agreed on no sex until marriage, and I didn't want him thinking anything had changed. Suddenly, however, his hand moved to my lower back, and his lips fell upon my neck. He began kissing my neck just below my jaw, and his other hand went to my thigh. I gasped: I couldn't help it. My neck began tingling and my whole body shivered. How did he know to do that?? He told me he had never dated anyone before me but somehow it was like he was pushing all the right buttons. I stifled a moan as his lips pulled at my neck while his hands gently felt at my thigh and my back. I held his hand on my thigh with one hand while my other hand went to my side to steady myself. I was beginning to get hotter at my core and I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. I looked to his parents' house and dimly hoped that they weren't watching, but my mind was beginning to get too foggy to focus on such thoughts. His hand was beginning to massage my thigh.

(This is getting bad,) I thought. (We should probably stop.)

I scooted away from him and looked at his face. It was flushed red and looked determined, hungry. He smiled at me. Not his devil smile, his adoring one, the one he got when I did something he found cute or when I wore one of his favorite outfits. My heart beat faster.

"Let's get in the pool," I said.

It was good to cool off, and I had to work off these sensations somehow. I began swimming laps, trying to work off this tension I felt. Adam seemed uninterested in swimming, however. He simply remained near the middle of the pool, wading around where his feet touched the bottom, watching me. I could feel his eyes on me as I swam around, but thankfully most of me was hidden underwater, so it's not like he could get a glimpse at anything particularly exciting. As I would approach the middle of the pool, however, he would glide over to me, caressing my back as I swam near. That was fine, but it didn't stop at that. On later laps he would approach me with a mischievous smile and then scoop me up when I got too close, holding me there for a moment in his strong arms.

"What's this?" I coyly implored.

"Nothing," he said with a smirk and released me.

This went on for a few more rounds, before I stopped and stood in the pool as he once again waded toward me.

(He's like some kind of mindless beast or automaton,) I thought a little nervously. (Can't he think about anything else other than wanting to touch my body?)

He stopped just a few feet in front of me, leaving me feeling a little trapped between him and the wall of the pool just behind me. His face had melted from that impish grin into his loving smile again. Often he reminded me of those Sour Patch Kids commercials: he often went from sour to sweet, from mocking cynicism to beatific affection. I love sour candy, so I guess it makes sense that I would fall in love with him.

His hands went to my freckled shoulders, gently rubbing them. My breasts felt a little tight in my bikini, and my lower body tingled.

(I love him.)

I closed my eyes, leaned forward and kissed him. My first kiss, and his first too based on what he's told me. It was a little awkward. I surprised myself with my aggressiveness, and he seemed a little surprised too. He reciprocated with gentleness but insistence, pushing me back against the wall. My heart beat faster and my stomach filled with butterflies. My face grew hotter as I leaned into him, putting my hands on his chest. I wanted to be even closer, but I did not dare. I found myself feeling both grateful and admittedly a little disappointed that he kept his pelvis pulled back. It felt a little frightening but so thrilling to be pushed up against the wall like this. I felt so fragile and small; I felt like I was his to do with as he pleased. Right now that just meant him pulling at my lips with his own, but if this went on things could get bad. We ended the kiss, and with little hesitation his lips went to my neck again. I think I might've moaned, but it was hard to focus on anything when he did this to me. I looked up at the house again. Thankfully, the view was largely obscured by a tree, so it's not like his parents were actively watching us. Probably. Nevertheless, the more excited I became and the more energetic he got, the more sinful I began to feel.

(We gotta stop,) I thought. (If this goes on...)

I pulled away from him. He gave me a hazy look that told me that he was as out of control as I was, if not significantly more. I swallowed.

"Let's...go back inside," I said, as impassive as I could.

He nodded, looking despondent but trying to hide it. "Okay."

We got out, me before him. As I climbed out of the shallow beach of the pool, I could feel his eyes on me, crouched in the water like a crocodile waiting in ambush. I shivered, only partially because of the chilliness of the water on me. As we walked over to our towels I wished again that I owned another swimsuit. This little teal bikini was something leftover from when I was younger and smaller, and right now it felt tight, undersized, and downright immodest. The way his eyes lit up when had I warned him about it had given me mixed feelings: on the one hand I felt bad for making him excited and leading him on, but on the other hand it felt a little good to know that he could get so happy because of me, even if it was just for my body. We reached our towels, and grabbing them I extended one to him. He received it, his back bent over for some reason. As we went to dry ourselves off, he opened the towel to drape it over himself, and as he did his back naturally stiffened. His posture corrected, my eyes flew on their own to his pelvis, and there I saw that something else had stiffened beneath the fabric of his shorts. He quickly covered himself too late, but looking up it seemed as if he had caught my glance. I felt embarrassed.

(Great. Now I look like a pervert.)

He on the other hand betrayed no expression at all.

(He's probably embarrassed too.)

Hoping that he didn't catch my look, we headed inside.

I love being the little spoon. I love his arms around me, holding me. His bed smells like him, and he smells like him, so when I get to be the little spoon it feels like I'm practically "hotboxing" his scent. He smells so nice. He has such a comforting, warm, earthy smell, like campfire ashes or the taste of mole sauce. When we cuddle, he likes to put one arm underneath my head, and he puts the other hand on my breast, covered by my bra and the fabric of my dress, of course. I know that sounds like a bad idea but it honestly just feels comfortable and natural. As we lay there cuddling, however, he began to move his hand downward, caressing other parts of my torso. He touched my waist, and then my stomach. I put my hand on his as I shuddered and gasped.

(Oh my God.)

My stomach lit up like there were burning firecrackers on it.

He stopped. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "I'm okay. I think my stomach is just really sensitive."

He paused for a moment before asking, "Sensitive how?"

I whispered, "I don't know. It feels kinda good I guess."

He went still.

(Oh no. Did I freak him out? I shouldn't have said that; now he thinks I'm weird.)

Adam, however, picked up his hand and began lightly drawing his fingers across my stomach. I began twisting and writhing.

(Oh my God that feels so good.)

I put my hands on his, stopping him. I began breathing again. I needed to be closer to him, so I scooted back into him. His arm was in the way, however, so I reached back to move it. I lightly touched it, but there was fabric in the way. I was confused.

"Is that your arm?" I asked.

He half smiled, looking a little perplexed and intrigued, before lifting his two arms still around me.

"Yeah. That's my third arm."

Two whole seconds passed before I realized what he meant. I turned away from him, feeling very embarrassed and extremely foolish. I wanted to roll my eyes at myself.

(Great. Now I really look like a pervert...Wait. They get that big??)

My body tingled.

Adam scooted closer to me, just close enough to where I knew that if I scooted back even half an inch I was bound to bump into "it" again. His right hand creeped over me, holding my waist before sneaking down to my stomach again. I held my breath as he began stroking my stomach again, lightly tracing his fingers at first, before beginning to press and pull on my stomach with his full palm. I exhaled in a shuddering breath, and I began to twist and contort again, unable to stand up to the electric waves of pleasure that were assaulting me. My hands moved down to his on their own and in silent protest I weakly began to move them off, but instead of complying he slowly took both of my arms in one hand and moved them above my head, pinning my rebellious arms down. I didn't know what to do, I knew that he would never hurt me but it felt like I was losing control and I really, really, liked it.

"No no no no no..." I could hear myself faintly protesting.

Adam however ignored me, holding my struggling, helpless arms above me with one hand while he continued to pleasure me with the other. He alternated light strokes with heavy scrapes, sending waves of pleasure one after another, seemingly always knowing EXACTLY what button to push to send another jolt of electricity throughout my body.

(Ughhh, seriously how does he know how to do this??)

I was beginning to get restless. Pulling free of him, I raised my dress up, exposing my purple panties to him. It didn't matter, I needed him to touch my skin. My legs began to rub together and it felt like I had an itch that needed to be scratched. He took my arms before grasping at my stomach again, pulling and scraping at my bare skin. I continued to let out whimpers and moans, not feeling like it was worth the effort to keep them in and not sure I could even if I wanted to. I also realized that my legs had gotten wet and that before long my panties would be soaked. Something in my brain or perhaps my loins was telling me that I had a problem that needed to be solved, and it was beginning to feel like the solution to all my problems was located just behind my backside, right around Adam's pelvis. Maybe it was a bad idea but I just had to scooch backwards. Doing so I felt that "thing" again. I began wiggling around, not so subtly trying to feel its size and shape. It was hard. I mean yes "it" was hard but I mean it was difficult, constrained as it was within the fabric of his shorts. Still, it felt like a monster eager to escape its prison and do terrible things to me.

(This is so bad. I can't...can't let this go on much longer. Maybe a little longer is okay though.)

To my great dismay, however, Adam stopped. He pulled my dress down back over my lower body. Moving his hand up to my face, he began stroking my jaw and kissed my neck. It felt good, but I needed his hand on my stomach. He released my hands and let my arms fall back to my side. Trying to steady my breathing, I just lay there. His right hand went back to my stomach while his left hand went to my breast. Rather than stroking my stomach, however, his hand just remained in place, pressing against the fabric covering my stomach. I began to feel frustrated. I wiggled against him. Nothing. I fumed.

(Obviously he enjoys doing this. Why did he stop?)

5 seconds passed. Then 10. Then 15. Then 30. Then a whole minute passed, maybe even more, and I was getting fed up. Adam, however, said nothing. When he moved his hand, it was only to reposition it onto my waist, or to stroke my clavicle, or to feel at my leg. Eventually, he pulled up my dress and returned his hand to my stomach, but rather than stroke it he merely traced the air above it. Finally, his hand simply froze, positioned ABOVE my stomach. It was infuriating.

"What are you doing?" I asked as calmly and ambivalently as I could.

He raised his eyebrows in an expression of mock innocence.

"Nothing," he said nonchalantly.

I lay there. Expectant, anticipatory, desperate, and frankly a little pissed off.

"Why?" He asked. "Do you want me to do something?"

(What's wrong with him?)

His hand remained poised JUST over my stomach, less than a centimeter away. At times his fingers just BARELY scraped the surface of my skin.

I said nothing for a moment, and then in a whimper I confessed, "I want you to touch my stomach."

In response, he leaned his head closer, his hot breath in my ear as he whispered, "I love you Lily."

At that moment, his hand, which had remained poised just above my stomach for so long, suddenly descended upon it like a bird of prey. Mercilessly he raked his fingers across my stomach and pulled at the skin. Not enough to hurt, but enough to be unbearable. I gasped, trying not to scream, and my hands flew to stop his. Adam, however, scooped them up with his free hand and pinned them once again above my head. I was trapped, again, but this time I had invited the vampire in. My mind tumbled into confusion and fog as all reason was lost to madness; I was like a ship tossed in a storm at sea, desperately trying to hold on to reality. I moaned and whimpered as I thrashed like Leviathan, except I wanted to be pierced if it would release me from this agony. It felt like eternity being caught in his grip, it felt like the whole world would fall away before he would release me. I could feel something rising in me, something I could not control, something terrible and inexorable and wonderful. It had to stop.

(This has to stop! Before, before...)

"Stop!" I managed. "Seriously, stop!"

He released me and settled backwards. I took a moment to catch my breath. I looked over at him. He looked concerned.

"Let me...let me do something for you," I offered.

I touched his stomach, trying to stroke it the way that he stroked mine, but he shook his head.

"I don't think I'm sensitive there like you are."

"Is there anything that I can do to make you feel good?" I queried, disappointed. "Other than, you know," and I made a pumping motion with my right hand.

He looked at my hand pumping and gave it a distant look. Then he paused for a moment, considering, before gesturing to his chest.

"Try touching right here."

I put my hand in the area he pointed out and began moving it around, feeling and exploring. As my thumb passed across the fabric covering his nipple, he gave a little jump and moaned.

After halting for a moment, I tried that again, tweaking his nipple. His whole body thrashed for a moment and he moaned again. Success!

I began to play with both nipples, speeding up and slowing down, trying different angles and different fingers, feeling other parts of his chest at times as well. He continued to buck a little wildly at first, but eventually he began to settle a little and become more relaxed. His groans became more subtle and less frenetic, but he seemed to be enjoying it.

The angle was a bit awkward, however, so I swung my leg over him, straddling his waist as he placed his hands on my legs. I then began unbuttoning his shirt, pulling the flaps to the side, exposing his chest. I then began tweaking his nipples unobstructed. This led to him bucking up into me for a moment, before he settled back down once again. Having his thing so close to my backside felt more than a little naughty, but I wanted to pay him back for what he did to me. His face contorted with pleasure at first, but as it went on he began to just look at me from bottom to top, his green eyes struggling to focus through the haziness in them. His eyes settled on my face, his expression projecting pleasure and relaxation. I was getting hot and wet again, and I prayed that he couldn't feel that through the layers that separated us. Eventually, however, Adam's hands went from my legs up to my waist, holding me there and caressing up and down, before moving on to my stomach. His right hand began to grope my stomach, while his left hand began to palm my breast. I leaned forward so that he could get more of my boob into his hand while I let out a soft groan. Focusing on tweaking his nipples and feeling his chest gave my hands something to do, so I felt less of need for them to remove his.

(This is fine, I mean this is good, I mean...we'll stop soon...I'll...ughh...)

My legs were squeezing his waist all on their own, I just needed to get closer, or...something. I definitely needed something.

I looked down at him. His chest rising as he moderated his breathing, his face showing that he was clearly fighting through the haze to service me, his concentration and his hunger so evident as he focused on pleasuring me in return.

(He's so handsome; what a sweet boy. I just...need him.)

I felt hungry too, so leaning forward I kissed his lips, trying to devour his scent and force some of him into me. His tongue came forward and I accepted it greedily, sucking his mouth and marking it as mine. Adam bucked some more and his hands left my front, moving around to lift up my dress and grope at my butt cheeks. Dimly I felt exposed for having my skirt raised up and having his hands on my cheeks, but it felt good to be touched and to have them be spread. It was such insidious stimulation for...

I pulled my head back from the kiss and planted it on his nipple instead. I licked it, and then sucked it, and then eventually nipped it just a bit with my teeth. Looking up I saw him give his adoring smile and then moan in a whisper. I felt like I wanted to service him; I felt like I wanted to be his good girl.

He moved his hands to my hips and then said, "You're such a good girl, Lily," with a satisfied smirk.