Touching herself, Amy ravages her insides. Her legs slowly giving out on her, her hips shaking, the figure of her face fading as she gets lost in her lust.
"Babe! I'm gonna cum!" the boyfriend says as he holds down on his girlfriend's head, coming deep in her throat.
Amy cums too, squirting against the ground and the base of the tree.
'G~god—'
Her voice is weak, her bottom hitting the ground as she breathes heavily. Her thighs twitch. The bark digs into her back but she doesn't care. She can smell herself — the wet ground, the sweat on her skin, the thick musk of the couple only a few feet away.
Pop.
The sound of the girlfriend's mouth leaving his cock rings out. She opens her mouth, sticking out her tongue, showing how she swallowed her boyfriend's load.
"Thanks for the meal, babe. Now let's move on to the main course."
Turning herself over, the girlfriend slides down her pants, dropping her panties with them as she steps out. She juts her ass out, putting her boyfriend's cock on top of her heart-shaped ass. She starts to jiggle it back, teasing her boyfriend, who's already getting hard.
"Come on, baby. You know what I want so just give it to me."
She teases her boyfriend, who grabs ahold of her ass, sliding his cock up and down, enjoying the feeling of his girlfriend's plump ass.
"Anything for you, babe."
Sliding it in, he penetrates his girlfriend, stretching out her folds.
"Oh—" his girlfriend lightly moans.
All while Amy watches. Her face is still a mess, but watching them continue reignites her lust. Her hands once again reaching in, she fingers herself, following the rhythm of the boyfriend who pounds his girlfriend's ass. Each slap of their thighs, she follows in rhythm fingering herself, matching his pace. Pinching her nipple when the girlfriend moans. Rubbing her clit when the boyfriend smacks the girlfriend's ass. Everything they do, Amy uses for her pleasure.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
The sound of sex echoes out in the forest. The smell of body odor of two individuals rubbing up against each other starts to fan out. Amy gets even more aroused, her body responding in kind.
'I'm— f~fuck—'
She moans loudly, not caring to be heard, knowing the amulet will stop all sound.
She falls on the ground again, face first into the dirt, her legs twitching. Grass presses against her cheek. The earth is cool and damp beneath her.
'...more.'
She moans, looking up to see the couple continue at it. Joining them, she continues, she gets lost in it. She doesn't care what's happening around her. The amulet will protect her, she thinks. Nothing will happen to her.
And then a fingertip presses against the back of her neck.
Cold Deliberate.
Her body goes rigid. Every muscle locks. The pleasure drains out of her like someone pulled a stopper.
She turns around and then she sees him.
Arthur.
His grey eyes look down at her, not shocked, not disgusted, just... studying. The way one would look at a chest board.
His gaze moves from her face to her hand still between her legs to the wet ground beneath her, to the tree she's leaned against, to the couple still going at it behind her who can't see or hear either of them.
He takes all of it in. Says nothing for a long moment.
Then —
"Didn't expect this use for my amulet." His voice is flat. Almost bored. "But I'm not complaining."
"A~Arthur— w~what are you—"
"Relax."
One word and Amy's body freezes even harder, especially as his hand settles on her shoulder. His palm is warm. She can feel the calluses on his fingers through the thin fabric of her shirt.
'He's touching me. He's t~touching me and I'm—'
She looks down at herself with her skirt hiked up. Panties shoved to the side, her thighs slick. Dirt on her knees, on her cheek, under her fingernails.
'...I look like—'
"I knew you'd do this eventually." Arthur crouches beside her, resting his forearm on his knee. Casual. Like they're having a conversation in the dining hall. "I just thought it'd take a little longer."
"W~what are you talking about?" Amy's voice cracks. She pulls her knees together, trying to cover herself. It's useless. The mess she's made stains the ground around her.
Arthur doesn't look away. He doesn't give her the mercy of pretending he hasn't seen everything.
"Really?" He tilts his head. "You don't remember being a peep and watching me and Mira? I'm sure it was you who left that stain on the ground."
"That wasn't— that was someone—"
"And Ryn. You were there too." He pauses. "I remember the sound of someone breaking a stick and running off."
'Shit.'
Amy's stomach drops. The heat in her body turns into something else. Shame. Real, burning shame that starts at her chest and crawls up her throat.
"So you knew." Arthur's voice doesn't rise. It stays flat and certain. "Don't lie to me, Amy."
She can't meet his eyes. The truth of what happened those nights sits deep in her mind. The reality that she has rather overstayed her bounds.
"...Yes." She swallows. "It was me."
Silence.
The couple behind them keeps going. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the gap where Arthur's words should be. Amy can hear the girlfriend moaning, can hear the boyfriend grunting, can smell their sweat mixing with the night air, and all of it pressing in on her while Arthur just watches her face.
"The closet exhibitionist tells the truth." He says it like he's confirming a chess move. Not mocking. Just noting it.
Amy flinches.
"You wanted to be found out, didn't you?"
At those words, Amy turns flush. Her body agrees with them even as her mind tells her it's wrong. She can feel it, the heat pooling low again despite everything. Despite the shame, despite the dirt on her face, despite Arthur crouching right next to her seeing all of it.
'W~why am I—'
"Your body's answering for you." Arthur glances down. Just once. Then back to her eyes. "It always has."
"S~stop—"
"I'm not doing anything, Amy. You're the one who's still wet."
She has no response. Her jaw tightens. Her fingers dig into the grass beside her.
Arthur lets the silence sit. He's in no rush. Behind them, the boyfriend picks up his pace. The girlfriend's moans get louder. Amy's breathing quickens and she hates herself for it.
"It's okay, Amy." His voice drops. Not softer — lower. The kind of low that you feel in your chest. "Your secret's safe with me."
He pauses and watches her shoulders drop half an inch.
"Here." He takes her hand. Her fingers are still slick. He doesn't react to it. He places her palm flat against his chest, over his shirt, and his tattoo starts to heat up beneath her touch.
"Feel that?"
She nods. The warmth spreads from his chest into her palm, up her wrist, along her arm. It's not normal warmth. It pulses. Like a second heartbeat pressing against hers.
"This is my bloodline, Amy. You know a bit of what it does, don't you?" He holds her hand there. Steady. "That night you saw what it does. How I can help those with it."
She nods once again. Her breath is uneven. She can feel the pulse getting stronger, syncing with her own heartbeat, and something in her body responds to it — a deep pull, like gravity shifting.
"Then let me help you."
Pulling her in closer, Arthur closes the distance. His free hand comes to the side of her face, his thumb brushing a streak of dirt off her cheek.
Author Note: Patreon.com/Lord_Cuckles or Search up TabooQuill on Patreon.com