Passion and Lust 02

Dragging his feet, Allen went back to the cart and pushed it towards its next location. It couldn't be easy for Val to do that to her sister, even as evil—yes, she was evil whether Val admitted it or not—as she was. A little help from Allen might go a long ways.

Somehow, Allen's wearied, numb and sore body managed to catch things up. When afternoon came around, Allen had just gotten back on track. Jesse still found something to be condescending about, but at least it was bearable. Had Jesse gone on another full rant, Allen didn't know if he'd be able to hold himself back.

He wondered what Val was doing back home. Messing with his remote? Weighing the option of leaving his apartment? Burning her tongue on coffee? Allen grinned when the thought of Val cooking entered his mind. With the limited utensils at his house, she'd probably either get halfway through it before giving up or burn the whole thing. He couldn't deny a twitch of nervousness, though, whether it was for the good of his apartment or for her own safety, he couldn't tell.

She was half-playful, half-serious, like oil and water that somehow mixed to make a coherent person. Or spirit.

Shaking his head, Allen got back to his work, scanning the books returned yesterday. He'd have to take a look in the history section before heading back home. Wasn't much, but it was all he had to offer.

~~~

Just like in the early morning, Allen couldn't keep his hand steady as he moved the key toward the lock. He'd never had this problem before. Was it the lack of sleep? Grumbling, Allen set down the books he'd checked out and held the key with both hands. It wasn't much better, but it did the trick. The wonderful sound of his door unlocking clunked throughout the hallway and Allen smiled as he opened the door.

"Val?"

The scene that greeted Allen caught him between falling over laughing and dropping his books in shock. Val was on the computer typing something in with the strangest technique he'd ever seen. Instead of learning how to use the keyboard properly, Val had settled back on the old 'hunt-and-peck' method, hitting each key with her pointer fingers. Only, having eight hands meant she could use seven of them to hunt and peck while keeping one on the mouse. Val looked over and caught him staring, nodding a welcome.

"Good evening. You looked tired."

Remembering he didn't want anyone seeing Val with all eight arms out, Allen spun around and closed the door, sliding the lock into place before dumping the books on his bed. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, walking closer to get a good look at her typing technique.

"I'm using the computer. You said it was alright."

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I mean with your hands. Why are you using seven hands to type? This thing was made for two."

She shrugged. "Is this not more efficient? And why should I not use the assets I have available?"

"You might be typing faster, but there's no way that's efficient. Here, do it like this," he said, pushing her hands away and placing his on the keyboard's home row. She stared intently at his demonstration. "If you do it this way, like it was designed, you can type just as fast and only need two hands for it."

He typed a few example words to show how to move her fingers, watching her nod in acknowledgement. As he continued, a few of her now-free hands wandered over to Allen's body, touching his stomach and lower back. Her purpose sat vaguely between 'comforting' and 'arousing'. Allen about told her to knock it off, but for all he knew she was just teasing him again.

"Alright, got it?"

"I believe so."

"Great." He stepped away, Val's hands leaving his body as he walked to the closet to hang up his jacket. "I brought something from the library. Something you might be interested in. I'm not sure on the specifics of your history with your sister, but those books could have some useful information, like where she was put after the imprisonment."

Val stood up, picking up a book in each of her hands and inspecting them one at a time. "Thank you. There are a couple here that may be of use."

"Welcome." Allen shuffled over to the kitchen. He rarely got to each lunch at work, both a combination of lack of time and lack of money, which left him starving.

"The library... I heard you mention it once before. Is it where you work?"

Allen frowned, pausing as he pulled out dishes. His job wasn't exactly a point of pride. "Yes." No need to go into details.

"Is it far?"

"Thirty minutes far. Though thirty minutes to you probably doesn't mean the same as thirty minutes to me."

"And that is where you learned about the Binding Stone, correct?"

This was drifting more from casual talk to an interrogation, though Allen couldn't tell whether it was from Val's lack of social awareness or her devotion to getting this problem fixed. "Yes. Book caught my eye while I was shelving. Happens every now and then."

"Is it one of these?" Allen heard the shuffle of turning pages in the other room.

"Would've been, if we still had it. Got lost a while back."

"That is unfortunate."

"A real bummer. Can we not talk about work when I'm not at work? I get enough of it as is."

A pause hung in the air. A book thudded shut.

"Of course. I'm sorry."

Allen smacked his face. He hadn't meant to snub her. "Don't worry about it. You couldn't have known." He opened up the fridge, pulled out leftovers from last night then threw them in the microwave. Leaning back on the opposite counter, he crossed his arms, sighing. Thank god he didn't have to cook tonight. Not that what he did could constitute as cooking.

"You hungry at all?"

"I don't need to eat, though I can if I wish," said Val, appearing in the kitchen doorway, filling it with her figure. "One of the advantages to being a spirit."

"Lucky you."

Val crossed two pairs of tanned arms, using the other to lean on the doorway as she regarded Allen with a touch of curiosity. He glanced at her from his heating meal, waiting for her to say something.

"I'm sorry if this is intruding, but you seem stressed."

"That obvious?"

"Your stride is off-balance, your shoulders are sagging and you've got bags under your eyes." She spoke without condescension, merely stating a few facts about his appearance.

"Well, I thank you for the appraisal, but I was already aware of it," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Was it work? Or something else? If my problems have burdened—"

His meal finished heating, but Allen ignored it. He instead stepped toward Val decisively, jabbing his finger at her. "Hey, I made my choice, and I'm not going back on it. I knew there'd be shit to deal with and I knew the answers wouldn't come easy. Don't talk like you're sorry for your problems because I won't hear it. That's not something for you to be sorry for any more." He punctuated his statement with a huff and grabbed his food. For once, he actually felt taller than Val. The urge to cough rode up from his chest, but he suppressed it.

Allen shoveled down his dinner, both from a mixture of hunger and a desire to dodge Val's questions. For whatever reason, he felt much more vulnerable with a plate of food in front of him. He knew she asked out of concern both for him and herself, but today he just didn't feel like it. He'd gotten hardly three-and-a-half hours of sleep, been hounded by his shit-for-brains boss and still worked a full day without exploding on anyone. His allowance of consideration for others was dried up.

Val finally got the hint around the time he started doing dishes and cleaning the kitchen. When she walked off to the bed to read one of the books he'd brought back, he leaned over the countertop and sighed as quietly as possible. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd have a full night of rest, he'd be in the mood to talk about himself and Val wouldn't be so worried or naggy. Tomorrow even Jesse's condescending, brow-beating, pointless little lectures could be shrugged off like nothing more than background noise.

After cleaning the kitchen, Allen collapsed onto the couch and switched on the TV. Val glimpsed up from her book as if considering another question, but ended up keeping to herself.

Network shows and the news captured Allen's attention for all of thirty minutes before his brain started turning into mush. Maybe all those studies about TV making you stupid were right. At least with a belly full of food, he was able to lean back without triggering long, noisy protests from his stomach. He still ached from the digging and the fall yesterday, but it was nothing he hadn't dealt with before.

In an effort to alleviate his boredom, Allen started stealing glances at Val, his eyes gradually settling on her for longer periods of time. She sat with her muscled, running legs over the edge of the bed, one over the other. Occasionally, she'd unconsciously rub them up against each other, her skin slick against itself as if oiled. She held the book she was reading in four hands, two on the covers and two to turn and hold the pages. The bracelets on her wrists would slide up and down her bare arms, sometimes clinking softly together. The other four hands rested on Allen bed, supporting her curvaceous upper body. Allen could make out her nipples pressing into that pathetic excuse for a bra with each breath. Her long brown hair clung mostly to her body, stopping just past her shoulder blades, drifting off whenever she shifted position or let out a larger breath.

Soon enough, the TV had completely lost Allen's attention. He kept his face toward it as not to alert Val to his gaping, but her body was all he could think about. Still engrossed in the book, she raised two hands from the bed to softly stroke her smooth legs, running her fingers in an agonizingly-slow motion up and down. It was then Allen felt the straining in his pants, his body leaping into full alertness for the first time since yesterday. His eyes darted back to the TV, his brain scrambling to think about anything besides the smoking hot woman on his bed. He even tried paying attention to the show. But every time he relaxed his concentration, even for a second, his eyes would drift back to Val, watching her nimble hands play across her bare legs or run through her flowing hair.

There was only one way to fix this.

After spending a minute shifting himself around, making sure his erection wouldn't be obvious when he stood up, Allen grabbed a change of clothes from the closet and walked into the bathroom. He told Val he was talking a shower before closing the door. The second it closed, he scrambled to get his clothes off and turn on the shower, just like last night. Images of her attending his cock last night were already rushing through his head, that glorious pussy crushing and draining him for everything he had until he passed out. He could practically feel her hands down there, lovingly stroking him into one of the fiercest orgasms he could remember. His own hand was a shit substitute, but it was all he had right now.

Tossing off the last of his clothes, he hopped under the stream of water, letting it hit his face and flow down his body. That alone was enough to send chills up his spine when it began flowing over his member. Sighing, he soaked his body before grabbing his cock to deal with the issue at hand.

It was then he heard a knock at the bathroom door.

"I could take this as an insult, you know," said Val, her voice muffled by the door.

"W-what?"

"I'm talking about your arousal. I can sense it from out here. You're drowning in it."

He loosened his grip on his hardness, sticking his head outside the shower curtain. The hell is she talking about? "My what?"

Val's exasperated groan was loud enough to hear from the other side of the door. "Your arousal. You're hard as a rock in there, I can tell. Spirit of sexuality, remember? I can sense these things."

Allen stood staring at the door, gripping the shower curtain, trying to figure out what to reply. "Uhh... okay?"

"I could feel it while you were on the couch, too. Did you think I was rubbing my legs out of boredom? I felt you respond to it." Her tone carried a growing irritation. What was she upset about?

"You could tell?" asked Allen, still struggling to find a way out of whatever was happening.

"Yes. I feel like I'm talking to a wall." She paused. "Okay, technically a door. This is ridiculous." The door burst open and Val barged in, shutting it behind her.

Allen jumped back, almost losing his grip on the curtain and falling over. "Hey! I'm in the middle of something!"

"Yes, and that's the problem."

He swallowed, taking in the fullness of Val's now-naked body, four of her arms crossed and four hands on her hips. Those bountiful breasts Allen often found himself admiring sat out in the open, as if inviting his hands to grab and hold as much as they could. Her eyes, while currently glaring at Allen, shone a captivating blue, enrapturing Allen even in their fierceness. He couldn't help himself from giving her a once over, his cock twitching in response to the view.

"Sorry, I'm not exactly sure why you're annoyed," said Allen.

"I am the origin of libido. The symbol for all things sexual along with my sister. This body of mine was built to bring men and women indescribable pleasure. I enjoy bringing that pleasure to whoever I can just as much as I enjoy receiving it. My sex drive dwarfs even your own. I'm annoyed because instead of coming to me with this," she said, a hand darting out and seizing Allen's member, "you want to take care of it alone in the shower. Yesterday, I could understand. You were tired and had work to do. But now?"

His legs began shaking, her hand's grip awakening erotic memories. "V-Val, I didn't mean it as an insult. But it was a bad time." Her hand began stroking, slowly moving from tip to base. Allen's knees about gave out and he gripped the shower curtain for dear life, but didn't move to stop her. That was the last thing he wanted.

Val's face calmed, watching Allen's intently as he spoke. His voice stumbled when her grip tightened. "I didn't wah-wah-want you thinking you had to take care of me, either." Mouth hanging open, Allen could manage to speak no further, Val's skill crippling his ability to talk. Another hand joined the first and Allen almost shriveled up into a ball right there.

"It's fine, Allen. I know I do tend to let my temper get the best of me sometimes. But here's what we're going to do. You're exhausted from a long day with little sleep, so I'm going to use these wonderful hands of mine to wash you off. I'll clean every last inch of your body, even give you a nice massage." He lost his balance, finally succumbing to her stroking, but Val was quick to catch him. "And then, when you're completely clean, those same hands are going to make you come harder than you've ever come before. Does that sound alright to you?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but Val squeezed his member when he tried to speak, and all that came out was a gasp.

"Good."

She stepped inside the shower with Allen, using her hands to turn him until he was facing away from her and toward the shower head. Each movement was poised and graceful like it'd been practiced a hundred thousand times before. Val sat down, carrying Allen down with her to where the hot, comforting shower steam hit Allen right below his face. Releasing the tension in his shoulders, Allen closed his eyes. Finally, he could allow himself some peace.

Val rested his head upon her bosom, giving her teats a nice squeeze and push just like a feather pillow. Two hands laid on his shoulders, fingers digging lightly into Allen's skin in a glorious massage. He felt washcloths at his legs, his back, and his chest, Val pressing them into his body with a light caress. He wondered how well they were really cleaning—not that it mattered. The hands at his cock slowed down, ensuring his sensitivity was peaked, but never beyond the point of orgasm. They played with his member and balls like a massage, kneading the skin over his shaft and tip.

Allen melted into Val's caress, feeling much like the shallow pool of water they sat in. All the tension built up at work, the stress of releasing Lust, the worry about bills and everything else in the world—Val coaxed it out with her dexterous fingers and sent it all down the drain. His breathing slowed to a near-standstill and a blissful grin grew on his face. He should've come to Val sooner. There was nothing like this in the world, not even close. Sure, you could get close with four women working in sync, but the way Val moved her hands, balancing the massage with the handjob and the cleaning, it was perfect, like she knew his body better than he.

Her voluminous legs and broad hips cradled his wearied body, those tree-trunk thighs fondling Allen's legs in fluid motions. Her feet snuggled Allen's, each toe moving distinctively, well enough to give a massage of their own. Even with his eyes closed, he could picture both of her feet's movements, as well as the mountainous, olive legs shifting subtly in the rocking water. Val's thumbs dug into the back of Allen's shoulders, the massage reaching deeper and becoming rougher. Allen moaned, surprised he could drown even further into her embrace. A stray thought ran through his head, wondering if she'd ever done this sort of thing back before she turned to stone.

"Huahmn," said Allen, trying to articulate the question, but Val placed a finger over his mouth.

"Shhh," she cooed, speeding up her hands on his member, "this is the time for you to relax and not worry about a thing." Her full lips descended to his forehead, giving a light kiss before withdrawing.

The cleaning hands grazed down his back and up his legs, moving as if they would never finish their task. Eventually, however, they gathered at his crotch, dabbing at his now intensely-sensitive member. His heart, which once beat at a pace so slow Allen thought it would stop, now animated, his thoughts on the inevitable orgasm ahead. His eyes struggled to open, barely making out the sight of six hands crawling up toward his manhood, not a single washcloth in sight. Their aim was clear.

"You're all clean now, Allen." Val's thighs clamped down on his waist, making sure he didn't move around. "Do you know what that means?"

"G-going to... to..."

"That's alright. You don't need to say a word."

All six hands descended on his aching stiffness, a hundred indistinguishable touches undulating Allen in pleasure. He moaned, trying to writhe under the attention, but Val's thighs had him secure. All he could do was shiver his feet and arms. Somehow, Val managed to put every hand to work, somehow touching or groping his cock. He tried to keep track of her hands and fingers, but soon everything blurred in a constant torrent of pleasure. From base to tip, head and shaft, she tenderly stroked. Even his balls were not ignored.

His breath haggard, Allen's hands found Val's smooth, round hips and squeezed. "Oooh g-god, please...!" No matter how wonderful Val's expert touch was, she still denied him release. She took Allen to the edge, holding him over it, letting him stare at the world or ecstasy that awaited him. "Val!"

"Don't rush it. It'll come."

I sure hope to god it does!

"You know... staring at that erection of yours has made me hungry. I hope you don't blame me for wanting a taste."

No! he thought, body finally finding some life. "Let me come first! Please!"

Withdrawing her hands, Val slipped from underneath Allen, holding him so his head didn't fall onto the hard bathtub floor. The instant her hands left his member, he cried out, trying to grab them and put them back, but Val took him by the wrists and held his hands helpless. Like a starving man would watch food, Allen followed Val as she descended toward his crotch, rubbing her body against his rock hard and frighteningly-sensitive cock. Val's handjob had ignited a desire like he'd never felt before, and all he could think of was the release. He didn't care how it happened any more, just that it did.