Goosebumps. Shivers.

All things I felt as Adam stroked a poppy petal against my clitoris. Brushed it up and down, coursing electricity through my veins.

Lips of my vagina throbbing, clitoris swelling, like the flower in his hand waiting to bloom. Raindrops falling from the thick clouds. Dripping on my vulva. Moisture in the sky could not compare to the feeling between my legs.

Adam placed the poppy on my thigh and set his warm tongue on my clitoris.

Left. Right. Up. Down.

The motion of his tongue, the ways the flowers blew around us in the storm.