Incubus's Hot Day - Beginning (Patreon)

Okay, here it is! I hope to upload 1 part every Wednesday based on what you vote on. It's been a lot of fun writing it!

“Boy, what side of the bed did you wake up on?” asks Amber, your childhood friend. She arches her eyebrows at you, looking up and down your body. “I mean, did you shove an energizer battery up your ass or something?”

You just shrug, giving your playful friend a grin. She likes to tease. She's been doing it for as long as you can remember. She shifts her hips, clad today in a tight jeans skirt and a black halter top with Avenged Sevenfold's logo, a skull with bat wings, stretched across her small breasts. Her brown hair is cut short, a cute bob framing her teasing face.

“I mean it,” she says, falling into step beside you as the pair of you walk to college like you do every day. Just like you did when you were in high school and junior high. Even elementary school. Amber the tomboy has been a closer friend to you than many of the boys you knew. “Look at you. It's like you flipped the switch and became a walking Ken doll.”

“Fuck, Amber,” you grunt, giving her a look. “Really? Some preppy douche bag?”

“Not all the Ken dolls are preppy douchebags,” she says, arms thrust behind her. She leans forwards, her eyes on your t-shirt stretched across your chest. “I mean, when did you become so ripped?”

“You just haven't been paying attention. I'm not that scrawny kid any longer.”

“No, you're not,” she says, something dripping from her voice, something you've never quite heard before.

You glance at her, studying her. You've known she's a girl for a while. I mean, when puberty hit, it was hard not to notice those small breasts ripening before you day after day. But she's just Amber. Your friend, not a girl you spanked it to at night. Or who starred in your wet dreams as you tossed and turned at night. She isn't the girl you fantasized with while board in class, doodling pictures of her on the side of your spiral-ring notebook.

She is Amber.

And now...

And now she has that playful smile on her face, that pixyish cut to her brown hair. Her eyes darting, her breasts jiggling in her top. They may not be big, but they look perfectly-sized for your hands. You clench them, wanting to seize them. Squeeze them.

Today, you did feel different when you rolled out of bed. Today, you felt like you awakened into who you truly were: an Incubus.

That word floats through your mind as you strut alongside Amber. Incubus. A being of sex. A creature who feeds off of women by fucking them hard. By making them melt into your hands. And you can feel Amber melting beside you.

Her nipples poke at the front of her halter top. Her cheeks have a cherry glow about them. Her eyes a glassy sheen, her pupils so wide, almost swallowing her hazel irises. She licks her lips, her eyes flicking up and down your body.

“Really, what did you do?” she asks you. “I mean, damn, have I been blind all these years?”

“Yeah,” you grin. “You're about to walk into the lamp post after all.”

She blinks as she looks ahead and gasps, jumping closer towards you to avoid running into the silver pole thrusting out of the sidewalk. She presses against you, her body so lithe and warm. Your arm slips around her waist, holding her tight. She feels so comfortable there, like she belongs pressed against you. 

For a moment, she stiffens against you. Shock flickers across her face. Then the blush deepens and she doesn't pull away. She squirms against you as the pair of you keep walking, her breath quickening, those small, firm tits rising and falling.

“We should... take the shortcut today,” she says. “I mean... we might be late to class...”

“I thought you hated the shortcut. Didn't you get mud all over your favorite jeans last time?”

“It hasn't rained in a week,” she says. She licks her lips. “Don't tell me you're scared of the shortcut. Because if you are”—she snuggles closer to you—“I'll be there to protect you.”

“Do I look like I need protection?” you ask her with a grin.

“I don't know, you're wearing so much clothing.” She shivers, blinking. “Gosh, what have you done to me? I feel practically like one of those slut-cheerleaders. Like Lilah, just throwing myself at a hunky guy.”

“What if I told you I was different,” you say as you take the shortcut, a dirt path cutting through a grove of trees, your school on the other side. Cutting diagonal through the dense woods was faster by a few minutes than walking around the woods. “That I'm the real me today.”

“Then I'd say I'm glad to meet you.” She swallows. “You know... I've kinda always liked you.”

You blink at that as you walk down the trail with her. The sounds of civilization fade away, swallowed by the trees. “Kinda liked me?”

This time her blush as untomboyish as any expression you've seen on her. It's practically virginal as she squirms. And then you realize she's never dated a guy. All throughout high school, she'd help you get ready for dates with girls then laugh at you the next day if you struck out, or give you high fives if you didn't. You never even questioned that she didn't want to date.

But now...

“Really?” you say. “All this time, you've been burning a torch for me?”

“Yeah. I can't even believe I'm telling you this. It's going to swell your head, and as ripped as your looking today, that's the last thing you need.” She breaks away from you, walking ahead. Her ass looks amazing in her jean skirt. How had you never noticed that rump?

But you don't let her get far. You catch up and grab her and. Her revelation has shifted your relationship. You can feel it tingling the air between you. Lightning crackles between you as you spin her around, staring into her eyes. This tomboy girl you've known all your life. You realize you could have been doing this for months. Years.

You pin her against the tree and kiss her. Her lips are far, far sweeter than you could ever imagine. She squirms against you, making such sweet, sighing sounds. Her arms wrap about your neck, clinging to you as she kisses you with such a ravenous passion. The feel of her body, even separated by your clothing, excites your skin.

Your dick throbs so hard.

You have to touch her. To feel more of her silky flesh. Your right hand finds the bare flesh of her thigh above her knee, savoring how smooth she is. She shudders against you, her tongue caressing yours, her hazel eyes glistening. You spot little flecks of gold around her irises. A feature you've never noticed before. 

They entrance you as your hands slides up her legs.

She doesn't fight you. Instead, she spreads her thighs, giving her permission, her acceptance. She wants your touch. You can feel her lusts are boiling through her as badly as they surge through your body. Your heart hammers in your chest, thudding away with such powerful beats as your hand climbs higher and higher, reaching towards that wondrous apex.

The heat grows with every inch your hand climbs. You vanish beneath her skirt. She whimpers into the kiss, clinging to you. You can feel her heart thudding beneath her breasts, beating with the same intensity as your own.

Your hand slides higher.

You've reached beneath other girl's skirts before, but today... Today it feels special. She's special. It's Amber. It's like both your lives had built towards this moment. You both quiver on the verge of crossing that line as your inch closer to her panties.

Your dick aches in your pants.

You brush her panties.

She whimpers into the kiss.

You stroke across her gusset, feeling her passion bleed through. She's wet. She's soaking her cotton garment. Every time you run your finger along the groove of her pussy, she moans into your kiss, her arms squeezing about your neck.

Faster, harder. You press the cotton into her folds, teasing her. But you want to feel her flesh directly. No barrier between the two of you. No cotton obstacle keeping you from touching your friend. Your blossoming lover.

You rip her panties to the side. Her silky bush, damp with her excitement, caresses your knuckles.

And then you feel her directly. Her pussy is hot on our fingers. She breaks the kiss, moaning your name as her head arches. 

“Amber,” you pant, leaning in to suck at her pale neck. 

You stroke through her folds, her body twitching as the pleasure surges through her. Her labia engorged. Her clit hard. And... And you feel her hymen. A maidenhead stretches over the entrance to her pussy.

No man has ever touched her like this. She's saved herself for you.

You rub against her, stroking her, making her tremble and know that today will be special for the both of you. Your dick throbs in your jeans, aching to burst out and pop her cherry. But not yet. It has to be perfect.

She needs to be quivering. You stroke her faster, harder, sliding up and down those pussy lips. Her juices coat your finger, the sweet musk of passion fills your nose as it wafts from between her thighs. She quivers, groans.

And then comes the unmistakable sounds of footsteps walking down the path. Someone approaches, about to catch you fingering Amber. You don't want to stop, cursing the intruding person. You feel so connect to Amber right now.

But if you keep fingering her and someone catches you, will it ruin the magic building between you and Amber? You have to decide, the interloper is about to round the corner and step into view.

Do you keep fingering Amber? 

Do you stop fingering Amber?