A Spicy First Kiss

This chapter continues the story of Eden Oasis and its weird horny misfits. You can find the last chapter here if you’re interested, but it’s entirely up to you. Where will you jump into the story? It’s like a choose-your-own adventure book, but with orgasms. You decide for yourself where to begin! You are the master of your fate, the captain of your soul! EMBRACE YOUR FREEDOM IN CHRIST MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS!

 

SHOOTING STARS

 

Adán Flores walked naked through the desert, skin prickling in the cold night air. The sand beneath his feet was cool to the touch; the heavens above blazed with stars, bathing everything in an icy glow. In all directions stretched an unfathomable expanse of glittering sand.

It didn’t even occur to Adán to wonder where he was, let alone how he went from lying in bed to strolling through the desert in the nude. It was a lovely night. What else was there to do but enjoy it?

A breeze made him shiver. The hair on his arms and legs stood on end. His balls retracted, retreating from the cold, and his penis shrank to a frigid stub. Even in the cold, he wore but one thing: a golden band on his ring finger. It sparkled in the starlight, but did absolutely nothing to keep him warm.

There came another gust of air, but this one felt warm. Movement overhead caught his eye. It was a shooting star. Another streaked across the sky, and then another, and yet more in streaks of gold. The wind blew harder, its temperature rising.

The sky was no longer a tapestry of frozen stars. It was an ocean of rushing light, running like water and burning like fire. The air was bracingly hot. Adán’s balls no longer huddled together for warmth, but hung loose and free. His penis relaxed, expanded, and grew until it stood erect and proud. As he walked, it bobbed jauntily up and down.

Then Adán saw someone standing atop a dune, silhouetted against the molten sky. Her curves were unmistakably feminine. His erection gave a throb. Turning, she appeared to notice him and began picking her way down the sandy slope.

It was Eevee, and she was naked.

In the flowing starlight, Adán could see everything. Her short brown hair danced in the wind. As she slid down the dune, her breasts bounced with every slip and stumble. She came nearer. He spied a dark patch of hair between her legs, hiding her most intimate parts. Eevee was now so close that he could almost reach out and touch her. He could see her freckles, her flushed cheeks, and her nervous, hungry smile.

Something gleamed on her left hand. It was a ring to match his own. Oh yes, they were married. Weren’t they? Yes, of course they were. Whom else in the world could Adán possibly want?

She sank to her knees in front of him. His dick bobbed gently as though nodding “Yes.” She reached out and took it. At her touch, a contraction jolted through his groin and a bead of precum welled up at his tip. With an effort, he held back an orgasm. It was too soon. Wasn’t it?

Eevee gave him a playful squeeze. He moaned. She began to stroke him, teasing out a dribble of precum, and then kissed him right on the tip. His nectar shone on her lips. She licked them and kept stroking. The stars streamed overhead. Around them, the wind kicked up golden clouds of sand, yet not a speck of grit interrupted their ecstasy.

With an almighty throb, Adán erupted. Strands of semen burst out of him, shooting like the stars overhead, spattering Eevee’s face and neck. She giggled and picked up the pace, pumping furiously. His orgasm didn’t fade, but intensified with every rapturous contraction—until, for the first time that night, Adán began to wonder what was going on.

He awoke in his own bed, dick twitching, covered in semen. In the worst of all storytelling clichés, it was all a dream—a very wet dream.

It had been ages since his last nocturnal emission. Adán emptied his balls so often that wet dreams were but a memory of adolescence. Now that he thought about it, though, he hadn’t masturbated in some time. All those extra shifts at the restaurant had kept him busy. He hadn’t even seen Eevee since last week.

The memory of Eevee’s pert nipples and soft brown bush gave Adán mixed feelings.

On the one hand, he felt guilty for picturing her naked, and especially for imagining her so humbled and vulnerable: kneeling at his feet, utterly exposed, covered in his cum.

On the other hand, it was super sexy.

Adán couldn’t deny it. Inwardly and outwardly, Eevee was lovely. She was kind, funny, gentle, honest, endearingly silly, and lusciously curvy. After six months of living next to each other, going to church together, and beating the daylights out of each other in Super Smash Bros. Melee, they were more than neighbors and more than friends.

Even his subconscious was telling him that he was in love.

 

THE FLOWER BOX

 

“Have you ever noticed how much cactuses look like erect penises?”

Eevee’s question jolted Adán out of his reverie.

“What?”

“Cactuses. Cacti. Prickle-plants. Have you noticed how phallic they can be?”

Adán chuckled. “I guess so. Don’t get any ideas, though.”

“I’m not that brave. Speaking of plants, Adán, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What happened to your flowers?”

She gestured toward the window. Its flower box, Adán’s pride and joy, was empty.

Adán lived up to his last name: he loved flowers. Gardening was one of his hobbies. (His others were reading, gaming, carpentry, and touching himself.) He had a green thumb, which really impressed Eevee. Her own thumb was pale, like the horse of the apocalypse whose rider is death. She could kill flowers by looking at them. Houseplants feared her. She was the Medusa of the vegetable world.

The first thing Adán did after moving into his apartment was to build a flower box. (Well, the first thing was to masturbate. The flower box was the second thing.) Using reclaimed wood, he built a garden box and installed it outside his window. Weeks passed, and then months. To Eevee’s amazement, Adán coaxed a riot of flowers from that tiny patch of dirt: zinnias, petunias, desert marigolds, and even a pair of brave little bougainvillea shrubs.

Now they were gone. Their stalks were bare.

Adán swallowed once or twice. Eevee wondered whether he was all right.

“About that,” he began, hesitating. “I, uh, picked them.”

“You what?”

Adán disappeared into his bedroom. He emerged a moment later holding a bunch—no, an explosion of flowers.

“I picked them,” he repeated. “To make a bouquet. For you.”

He held them out: a spray of fragrant reds, vibrant yellows, and majestic purples, accented by blue and green, and held together by a gold ribbon. Eevee took them in a daze.

“I, uh, wondered if you’d like to go out sometime,” said Adán. “On a date, I mean. Like, a proper romantic one? If you want. Of course, if you don’t want—”

“I want,” declared Eevee. Her eyes shone with happy tears. “Yes, Adán, I want.”

 

AN HONEST ANSWER IS LIKE A KISS ON THE LIPS

 

Adán and Eevee sat on a park bench and looked up at the sky. For once, the neon light pollution of Oasis City didn’t veil the stars. They shone in all their glory. Adán remembered his dream of shooting stars, gathered his courage, and took a deep breath.

“May I hold your hand?” he asked, not looking at Eevee.

She giggled. “Oh my! How lewd. You naughty boy.”

“Shut up,” he teased, and bonked her softly on the head. She held out her hand. He took it. They sat together, fingers intertwined. The breeze whispered in the palms around them. A nearby fountain, lit from below, sprayed water skyward to fall in a shower of diamonds.

“Thanks again for dinner,” said Eevee. “Your restaurant has the best tamales. You know, tamales may be the most phallic Mexican food.”

Adán snorted. “That would be burritos, you pervert. What’s with you and phalluses lately?”

“What can I say? They fascinate me. Maybe, someday, I’ll get to see a dick for myself.”

“What are you talking about? You just met one. His name is Antonio.”

Eevee laughed. “Your cousin doesn’t count! Besides, he didn’t seem like a dick. He was really nice.”

“He was,” agreed Adán. “It kind of freaked me out, honestly. Antonio’s always teasing me, you know? Poking fun at me, bossing me around.”

“He’s literally your boss.”

“My point is that he was different tonight. He was polite. Serious. I think he knew how much I wanted tonight to be perfect. I think he knows that you mean a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, too,” murmured Eevee, and squeezed his hand. “You weirdo. Speaking of weird, what was with all the mints? Mints don’t seem very Mexican.”

“Yeah,” muttered Adán. “About that. Antonio said he wanted me to have good breath after supper in case we… you know… kissed or something. ‘You don’t want to taste like guacamole,’ he said.”

Eevee leaned in a little closer. “I like guacamole,” she murmured. “Kisses are supposed to be spicy, aren’t they?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” blurted Adán.

Eevee laughed. “Obviously.”

“It’s just… you know… I don’t have a lot of money.”

“Me neither.”

“I don’t have citizenship.”

“So what? We can take that journey together.”

“I don’t—”

“Listen, Adán. Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love Jesus?”

“I do.”

“Do you have a penis?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Is that a trick question?”

“Just answer it!”

“Yes. I have a penis. At this moment, I am extremely aware of that fact.”

Eevee laughed. “Then you have everything I want in a man. Yes, Adán, I will be your girlfriend… on two conditions.”

“What are they?”

“First, will you be my boyfriend? It’s a two-way street, you know.”

“Yes. Yes!”

“Second, will you kiss me already?!”

Adán and Eevee finally kissed, holding hands on a park bench under a starry sky. It tasted like mint, with a faint aftertaste of guacamole. They didn’t mind.

 

AUTHOR’S NOTE

 

Poiema here! I’m no expert on dreams, but I bet Freud could have shared some thoughts on Adán’s vision of shooting stars and spurting semen. Cum to think of it, I wonder what Freud would have said about tamales and burritos, never mind about the cactus plant! I guess the moral of the story is this: Look hard enough and you’ll find a penis anywhere.

For the record, on the night Adán dreamed of Eevee manhandling his man handle, she also dreamed of nudity. Her dream wasn’t sexy, though. She dreamed of giving a book report at school only to find herself naked in front of the class. This didn’t seem like much of a turn-on for you wonderful, horny Marriage Heat readers, so I went with Adán’s dream this time. In the next chapter, perhaps, we can spend some quality time with Eevee.

Until then, thank you for reading. Stay well, be kind, and stay sexy!