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Leaves crunched beneath your boots as you stormed through the woods, the sound far too loud in your ears, which were still twitching in sheer irritation. Behind you, Adam lumbered along like a clueless ox, his footsteps clumsy and dragging. Of course, he wasn’t bothered. Why would he be? He wasn’t the one currently marinating in lukewarm tomato juice like some unfortunate pasta dish gone wrong.
You huffed, shoulders tight with tension, the cold sticky fabric clinging to your back like a second skin. The metallic tang of tomato clung to your nose, your furred ears and tail sopping wet and matted with red goop. A weekend getaway with a couple of friends—that was the plan. Some drinks, laughter, maybe even a few fireside stories. But no. The moment things were getting good, Adam had to trip over his feet and baptize you in an entire pot of tomato juice.
And the cherry on top? This absolute buffoon didn’t even bring the right kind. You told him to grab tomato soup. You said it three times. Soup. Not juice. There’s a difference. Soup is warm, cozy, thick enough to possibly pass as a sauce. Juice is… well, it’s this. You were soaked like a crime scene victim in a grocery store horror movie.
You pushed a low-hanging branch aside with more force than necessary, your voice dripping with venom. “I swear to Lucifer, if I don’t find that goddamn lake in the next five minutes, I’m going to scream.”
Behind you, Adam groaned theatrically. “Ugh, babe, why don’t we just go home already?”
You spun on your heel so fast that your sticky tail whipped a leaf off a nearby bush. “You can go home,” you snapped, eyes narrowing into slits. Your ears stood on end, trembling with outrage. “I have been planning this trip for months. I’ve had a countdown on my phone. I packed snacks. Not only that, but I colour-coded the itinerary. And you—” you jabbed a tomato-stained finger at him, “—ruined it in under ten minutes.”
Adam blinked like a confused golden retriever before his face split into a sheepish grin. “Look, I said I was sorry,” he said with a laugh, shrugging like an idiot who didn’t understand why setting the house on fire was a bad idea. “But come on, you gotta admit—seeing your face when it happened? Pretty fucking hilarious.”
His laugh echoed through the forest like a bad joke that wouldn’t die.
You didn’t dignify it with a reply. Instead, you stomped forward, boots smashing twigs and kicking pebbles like you were punting his dignity. “Not cool, ya dick,” you muttered, flipping him off without even looking. “Where is this stupid lake?” Your fingers curled with frustration as the juice began to flake off, crusty and dry, making your skin itch like hell itself was crawling across your back.
“Hey! Found it!” Adam’s voice rang out from the left.
You didn't expect anything when you looked that way, but there it was, glimmering through a tree gap. A broad lake with a crimson surface glistening from the unsettling colour of Hell's never-ending fire was stretched out in front of you. The surrounding grass was lava-red, swaying gently in the warm breeze. It looked strange, unnatural, but vaguely beautiful in that cursed sort of way.
You barely had time to appreciate it before you caught movement in your periphery.
Adam was already stripping.
“What are you—?!” you started, but it was too late.
Shirt, pants, socks, all flung like offerings to the wind. Then came the final insult: his ridiculous, oversized boxer briefs sailing through the air and smacking you square in the face with a damp, unfortunate slap.
For a moment, your vision was orange and cottony. Then, from behind the darkness, his voice rang out like a gleeful child. “CANNONBALL!”
There was a splash, loud and echoing. Water flew in all directions. You peeled the offending underwear off your face with two fingers, holding it like it was radioactive.
You stared at the lake, then back at the boxer briefs, then at the ripples in the water.
“I should’ve left him home,” you muttered, and trudged toward the lake anyway.
“Adam!” you snapped, hurling his stupid boxers to the ground like the insult they were. Your voice cracked with fury, raw and cutting through the warm evening air. You were soaked, sticky, itchy, and livid. Over an hour—gone. Spent trudging through unfamiliar terrain, looking for this damn lake, while your friends were probably laughing around the fire, sipping drinks and dancing under Hell’s shimmering sky.
Adam, in all his clueless glory, was floating without a care in the world. “Babe, get in,” he called out, grinning like the devil himself. “Water’s warm. Feels good.”
He waded closer to the edge, arms spread as if he were inviting you into some romantic paradise instead of a demon-bathed hellhole. “I’ll even help you wash,” he added with a raised brow and a voice like sin dipped in honey.
The surrounding lake rippled with lazy waves, blood-red under the light of Heaven’s Gate shining far above. Hell’s version of moonlight danced on the water, giving it an ethereal glow that almost made the place feel peaceful. Almost. What sounded like crickets chirped softly in the brush, and not a soul was in sight. You might have enjoyed the beauty of it all if it weren't for your heavily nude boyfriend's bobbing silhouette performing a lazy backstroke, his limp dick breaking the surface.
You looked down at yourself. Your clothes were heavy and damp from the drying tomato juice, and they clung to your skin in the most uncomfortable ways. There was a strong smell that stuck to your skin and made your nose twitch. You sighed, defeated.
Stripping on the opposite shore, you peeled off your shirt first, slow and deliberate. The warm, damp air touched your skin. You felt the splashing stop behind you. Your eyes flicked up. Adam had moved closer and was now half-submerged. He looked at you with that familiar, hungry look. His eyes tracked your every movement like a predator watching prey.
When you were down to your underwear, you paused. “Adam,” you warned, narrowing your eyes. “I’m here to wash this tomato shit off me. That’s it. Then we’re going back. Understand?”
You tried to sound stern, but your voice lacked its usual bite. You were tired. Sticky. Half-naked. And he was giving you that look.
His eyes darted shamelessly from your breasts to the sopping cloth stuck between your thighs, he said, “Don't worry, babe,” with a wolfish grin. “With my help, you’ll be clean in no time.”
You slipped into the water, the heat of it instantly melting the grime from your skin, easing the ache in your muscles. You took a breath, letting the warmth soak in. And then he was behind you.
Your ears twitched, body tensing as his hands slid around your waist, pulling you back until your spine pressed flush against his chest. One of his hands came up to your breast, fingers rough and eager as they squeezed and kneaded, while the other slid low, cupping your cunt like he owned it.
His teeth grazed your shoulder, just along the sensitive edge of your neck. “You smell like pasta,” he murmured against your skin, voice low and amused. “Sexy, saucy little thing.”
You shuddered, caught somewhere between exasperation and arousal. “You’re an idiot,” you whispered, your voice trembling as heat pooled in your stomach.
“Mmhmm,” he hummed, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “But I’m your idiot. And your tits feel fucking amazing right now.”
You groaned softly as his fingers teased your nipple, thumb circling it lazily, while his other hand slipped lower, parting your folds beneath the water. He knew exactly how to touch you. Exactly how to make your threats dissolve into moans.
You hadn’t expected this. Not really. But maybe you should’ve. The two of you were insatiable. Horny, impulsive, greedy for each other. The moment clothes came off, it was only a matter of time before one of you had the other panting and begging.
And here you were, tomato juice lingering on your skin, legs trembling in warm, crimson water, already melting in his hands.
“A-Adam…” you moaned, voice catching in your throat as heat coiled in your belly.
His tongue traced the sensitive shell of your ear, slow and wet, before he caught your lobe between his teeth. He sucked, then bit, just enough to make your breath catch, but not painfully. Your skin broke out in goosebumps. Every nerve felt alive, like your whole body was tuned to the rhythm of his mouth and hands.
“Yeah, babe?” he asked, voice deceptively innocent.
As if he weren't currently playing with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers in a devilish way. Like he wasn’t teasing the slick folds between your legs, the pads of his fingers circling your entrance, just to watch you squirm and whimper in anticipation.
You shuddered. Your hips jerked involuntarily.
“T-the c-camp…” you tried to protest, only to yelp when his thick finger finally slid inside you.
The sudden stretch had your thighs tensing. The surrounding water rippled with the motion, a sharp splash echoing into the stillness of the forest. The soft chorus of Hell’s crickets and croaking frogs tried and failed to mask the wet sound of your moans echoing off the rocks.
“Of course, babe,” Adam muttered with mock sweetness, curling his finger just right.
He thrust it in slow, but firm, rubbing against that perfect spot at the top of your cunt that made your whole body clench. “Just making sure you’re squeaky clean.”
“Idiot… ah… ah, ahh…” Your head dropped helplessly onto his shoulder, your back arching as your legs quivered beneath the water.
His fingers were relentless, massaging that tender inner spot with calculated precision. Your toes curled, your ears twitched, and your heart pounded like it was trying to break out of your chest. The air smelled like damp earth and summer heat, the faint iron tinge of the tomato juice lingering on your skin. But beneath it all was him—his sweat, his scent, his warmth pressing against your spine.
Then he cursed, soft and low. “Ah, shit.”
Your eyes flew open, panic scraping at your chest. “Wh-what?” you asked quickly, scanning the water for shadows, movement, danger.
“Can’t reach you any further,” he panted. His breath was hot against your neck, ragged and hungry. “Need to make sure I get every inch of you.”
You felt the grin forming against your temple before you even saw it. That cocky smirk you knew too well.
Your eyes widened. “Oh, for fuck’s sake—A-AH!”
Your protest melted into a strangled cry as he shoved his cock into you, thick and hard, sinking in with one deep thrust that stole the breath from your lungs. The stretch burned in the most exquisite way. Your pussy fluttered around him, trying to accommodate the sudden fullness.
“Yeah, fuck,” he groaned, holding you tight as the water splashed around your bodies. “That’s the stuff, right, babe?”
You were weightless in the water, but he lifted you higher, gripping under your thighs as he pulled them apart. Your legs were spread out and suspended by his two hands, held open as an offering. The cool air brushed against your wet skin, making your nipples pebble. Goosebumps prickled up your arms.
“Gotta get you nice and clean,” he muttered, voice gravel and sin.
“Ah… ah… ahhh!” Your voice broke into short, desperate bursts. Each thrust drove the breath from your chest, your head swimming in pleasure.
You could feel everything. The hot, sticky air kissing your wet, sensitive pussy slowly. His cock stretching you open. The delicious sting with each thrust. Your skin burned with embarrassment and thrill all at once. Your bare body, your flushed face, the way his cock repeatedly vanished inside of you—everything would be visible to someone strolling through the trees right now. There’d be no mistaking what was happening here.
The slap of his hips against your ass echoed louder than the water, than the wind, than the chorus of crickets around you. His balls smacked your skin with every punishing thrust, and the sound only turned you on more. You clung to his biceps, nails digging in, unsure if you were trying to pull him closer or push him away before you drowned in the sheer intensity of it all.
And still, he moved, relentless, fucking you deep under the watchful, uncaring eyes of Hell’s twisted stars.
“F-Fuck, Adam!” Your voice broke apart in ragged gasps as he rammed his cock deep inside you, each thrust slamming into your core with punishing precision. Your breasts bounced with every movement as your whole body jolted forward and back like a rag doll in his grip.
His hands gripped your hips tight, guiding your soaked, trembling body to meet each thrust. Every time he bottomed out, your vision blurred with pleasure, your pussy clenching wildly around him. And then, like a gunshot, your orgasm burst forth. Your body arched, legs shaking as you screamed, warmth squirting out of you in a hot spray that splattered into the lake below, rippling the water like rain.
Adam let out a filthy chuckle behind you, his voice thick with strain. “Damn babe… now that’s a power wash.”
You barely had time to catch your breath before he grunted low in your ear and slammed his cock all the way inside, burying himself to the hilt. “Now for a good spray of my own,” he panted, and you felt it—thick, hot spurts of cum shooting deep inside, filling you up until you could swear it reached your throat. “Yeah, fuck, take it. Get it all, baby… fuckin’ hell,” he moaned as his hips jerked once, twice more, before he stilled.
His cock throbbed inside you while you both gasped for air, your bodies trembling and dripping wet. The forest had gone oddly quiet around you, as if the trees themselves were catching their breath too. Only your harsh panting and the gentle slosh of the lake remained.
“I think you’re clean now,” Adam finally said, voice smug and shaky as he carefully let you down.
You hissed softly as his cock slid free from your overstimulated pussy, your walls fluttering at the loss. Warm cum dripped out of you in lazy trails, mingling with the shimmering red water below.
Leaning your back against his chest, you let out a long, unsteady breath. “Think,” you murmured, ignoring his dumbass remark, “they’ve noticed we’re gone for a long time yet?”
Adam gave a loose shrug. “Are you asking for round two?” His tone was pure mischief.
You turned your head just enough to glare at him. His stupid grin was wide and shameless, his chest slick with water and sweat. Droplets trailed down the line of his abs and disappeared into the damp patch of hair below his navel, leading right to his cock—half-hard and glistening with your slick.
Your tail flicked in annoyance. “N-no!” you snapped, clamping your thighs together.
But damn it, your body betrayed you. Your cunt still pulsed from the orgasm, and deep down, you wanted more. You always wanted more when it came to Adam. The worst part? He knew it.
As you tried to twist away, he looped his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his warmth. His fingers slid down again, feather-light against your folds, brushing your throbbing clit.
“Babe,” he whispered, voice syrupy soft against your ear. His fingers danced lower, collecting the mixture of your orgasm and his cum. Then he lifted them up in front of you, glistening and slick. “Look at this mess,” he said, smearing the wetness across your lips with a slow stroke. “And here I am, just a man trying to clean up after his girl.”
You shivered as his cock pressed against the small of your back, hardening again with infuriating eagerness.
“Fuck… I hate you,” you muttered breathlessly, though your hips were already grinding back against him, your slick ass brushing the length of his cock.
Adam just laughed, the sound boyish and far too pleased with himself. “This is why we’re late to everything,” you added, slapping his thigh without any real heat behind it.
“Maybe,” he hummed, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “but at least we’re late together.”
The water resumed its gentle splash around you, and the crickets slowly picked up their tune again. Above, the crimson-tinted sky flickered faintly, and you almost forgot you were in Hell.
Almost.
Because your boyfriend was already lining himself up behind you again.
“Adam,” you warned.
“What?” he said innocently. “You’re still dirty.”
The water splashed again, and the night went on with moans, laughter, and two idiots who couldn't keep to the schedule.