My mind raced. Was it Ryan? Erectile dysfunction? The thought sent a twisted thrill through me—imagining him failing, night after night, Hina's legs spread and waiting, only to be left aching, unsatisfied.
Or was it her? Some hidden barrenness, a cruelty of fate that had turned her bitterness inward, then outward, like a blade unsheathed?
I risked another look at her face. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her chest rising and falling just a little too fast. Kerry's words slithered back into my mind—"Hina gets irritated, angry..."—but it wasn't just anger.
Not just frustration. It was hunger. The kind that gnawed at you, that made you claw at your own skin when no one else would touch you right. The kind that turned love into something sharp and ugly.
And Ryan? He knew. Oh, he knew. The way he refused to look at her, the way his fingers twitched at his sides like he was fighting the urge to reach for her—or maybe to strike her.
There was a story there, one written in bruises and whispered apologies and nights spent turned away from each other, bodies stiff with resentment.
My cock throbbed under Hina's grip, her touch suddenly possessive, almost punishing. She wanted to hurt someone. And if it couldn't be Ryan—well. I was right here.
A drop of pre-cum welled at the tip, and she smeared it with her fingertip, her touch sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my balls.
"It's so different from Ryan's," she murmured, her voice a velvet whisper that slithered down my spine. Her fingertip traced the sensitive underside of my cock's head, slow and deliberate, like she was memorizing the shape of me.
A jolt of pleasure shot through my body, my hips jerking upward before I could stop them. "Aunt—!" The word tore out of me, half-protest, half-moan, but she didn't stop. She just watched—her dark eyes locked onto my cock like it was the answer to something she'd been starving for.
And then I saw it. The way her lips parted, just slightly, her tongue darting out to wet them. The way her throat worked, like she was already imagining how I'd feel sliding down it. My pulse roared in my ears. She wants to swallow me whole. The thought sent a dirty thrill through my veins, my cock twitching under her touch.
But it wasn't just hunger in her gaze. It was a calculation.
Was she thinking of taking advantage of me? Or was I just desperate enough to hope she was? The line between fantasy and reality blurred as her fingers tightened, her grip shifting from teasing to possessive.
My mind raced—would she force me? Pin me down, spread my legs, and ride me until I fill her with something Ryan never could?
The thought should've terrified me. But the way she looked at me—like I was prey, like I was hers—made my cock ache with need.
Hina's fingers traced the swollen ridge of my cock, her nail grazing the sensitive slit at the tip. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure straight through me, my hips jerking involuntarily.
"I'm sorry, Dexter," she murmured, though her voice carried no remorse—only curiosity, dark and hungry. "It's just... I've never seen one like this. The skin here—" she pressed her fingertip against the exposed crown, swirling it lightly, "—it's gone. Why?"
I swallowed hard, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The sensation of her touch was maddening, my cock throbbing painfully, the tip already slick with pre-cum. "I don't know," I managed, my voice rough. "It was burning this morning... like fire. And then I noticed the skin was gone. Aunt Kerry used her saliva to soothe the pain."
Hina's eyes flicked to Kerry, her brows furrowing slightly. "Did he bleed?"
Kerry shook her head, her gaze lingering on my cock as if she were remembering the way it had felt in her hands, in her mouth. "No. But he was in pain, so I checked. Dexter's a healer—he said saliva could help." A faint flush crept up her neck, betraying the memory. "So I... used mine. And it worked."
Hina's grip on my shaft tightened, her thumb pressing against the slick tip again, smearing the pre-cum in slow, deliberate circles. "Is it hurting like it was this morning?" she asked, her voice low, almost teasing. "If you want, Dexter, I can use my saliva to heal you..."
My cock twitched violently in her grip, another thick bead of pre-cum welling at the tip, glistening under the dim light. The image of Hina's lips parting, her tongue swirling over the sensitive head, sent a scorching wave of heat crashing through me, my balls tightening with the thought.
I could almost feel it—the wet heat of her mouth, the way her throat would clench around me, the way she'd take me deep and swallow every last drop.
But I didn't want her mouth.
I wanted her cunt.
I wanted to be buried inside her, to feel her walls milking me, to fill her with something Ryan never could.
So I forced out a lie, my voice rough with fake protest. "No, Aunt," I groaned, my hips jerking despite myself. "It's not hurting—it's just..." My cock throbbed in her hand, betraying me.
"Too hard. And it won't calm down." I let my voice drop, let the words come out like a confession. "I think... it needs a woman's pussy to ease itself. That's what my grandfather taught me."
Hina's lips parted, her breath hitching as she stroked me again, slower this time, her grip firm and knowing. "It's good you're a healer, Dexter," she murmured, her voice thick with something unspoken. "Otherwise, we'd have to ask other tribes for help."
She leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear, her body pressing against mine. The scent of her—earthy, musky, female—filled my senses. "Don't worry," she whispered, her fingers tightening around my shaft, her thumb swiping over the tip again, collecting the slick fluid.
"I'll find the most beautiful girl for you. Or..." Her grip shifted, her fingers sliding down to cup my balls, rolling them gently. "Is there someone in the tribe you like? Your status as a healer—and a hunter—means no woman would refuse you."
A broken groan tore from my throat as my hips rolled into Hina's touch, my cock aching for more—more pressure, more friction, more of her. But it wasn't just Hina's hand I wanted. It was everything.
The image of Ruth flashed behind my eyes—her long, silver-white hair spilling over pillows, those full, pouty lips parting in a gasp as I pushed inside her.
I could almost feel the way her body would move beneath mine, her thighs trembling as she spread them wider, her cunt slick and begging for me. The thought alone made my cock throb, a sharp, almost painful pulse of need.
And then—Ada.
Ruth's mother.
The thought slithered into my mind, dark and intoxicating. If I could take Ruth, make her mine, then why not Ada too? The older woman's body, still ripe, still hungry—had she ever been properly fucked?
Had she ever been stretched open by a cock that knew how to ruin her? The idea sent a filthy rush through me. I could deceive her. Seduce her. Make her crave me the way her daughter would.
I could have both.
The thought was intoxicating.
My cock jerked in Hina's grip, leaking another thick bead of pre-cum, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I could almost taste it—the way Ruth would whimper as I filled her, the way Ada's nails would dig into my back as she came undone.
Kerry stepped forward, her voice cutting through the haze of pleasure like a blade. "Hina, I think Ruth would be best for Dexter," she said, her tone firm, almost possessive.
"She's a little older than he, but she can take care of him. And after her father died while protecting the tribe..." She paused, her eyes flicking to me, then back to Hina.
"We've struggled to justify giving them food in winter. But if Ruth follows Dexter, we can provide for Ada and her without breaking the rules. It's what we owe them."
Ryan nodded in agreement, his voice gruff with approval. "It's the best solution. Ruth's father gave his life for the tribe. We can't take care of his family otherwise—not without breaking the hierarchy. But if they follow Dexter, we can ensure they're fed. It's what we owe them."
Hina's fingers still hadn't left my cock. She gave me one last, slow stroke, her thumb pressing against the slick tip, sending another jolt of pleasure through me.
"Then it's settled," she said, her voice husky, her breath warm against my skin. "Ruth will be yours, Dexter. And she'll take very good care of you."
I should have been excited. The thought of having Ruth—beautiful, kind Ruth—to myself should have been enough. She was no less stunning than those stars from Hollywood, with her full lips and curves that made my mouth water.
But as I opened my mouth to speak, I found myself pretending to be kind, my voice barely steady. "Aunt Hina... I don't want to force Sister Ruth..."
Kerry's eyes sharpened, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "So you do like Ruth..."
She chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Dexter, do you know... even if your Sister Ruth wanted to follow someone, no one would accept her?"
I shook my head, my cock throbbing in Hina's grip.
Kerry's voice dropped, her tone almost conspiratorial. "Because if Ruth follows a man, that man has to take care of Ruth and Ada. Feed two mouths in winter, which is difficult for anyone of any status, even as a hunter. And if someone had a kid..."
She trailed off, her meaning clear. "We'd have to share our food with the kid, with only two people's rations. No one wants that burden."
She stepped closer, her gaze locking onto mine. "So your sister Ruth will be happy when she knows you want her as your woman. And I think Ruth..." Her voice softened, almost affectionate. "She is a beautiful girl. And she's kind. She'll take care of your kids."
The image of Ruth flashed in my mind again—her white-streaked hair, her soft hands, the way she moved with quiet grace. And then Ada, her mother, her body still full and warm, her eyes wise with age and experience. The thought of both of them—mother and daughter—under my care, under my body, made my cock twitch violently in Hina's hand.
Hina's voice pulled me back to the present. "Dexter, Ryan, and I will go talk to Ruth and Ada. They'll be happy..." She paused, her fingers giving my cock one last, lingering stroke. "Especially Ada, knowing someone is actually willing to be with Ruth."
She stood, her leaves shifting slightly, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of her thighs, the shadow between them, the hint of dampness that made my throat go dry. Then she was gone, the flap of the hut falling back into place, leaving me alone in the darkness.
My cock still throbbed, aching and heavy, my body burning with need. My mind was consumed with the image of Ruth—her thighs spread wide, her cunt glistening and wet, taking every inch of me until neither of us could think straight.
But as the moonlight faded and the silence settled around me, one thought burned brighter than the rest:
It wouldn't be her.
And that made me want to fuck Ruth harder.
The moment Hina, Ryan, and Mitt stepped out of the hut, the air between Kerry and me grew thick with something unspoken—something raw and hungry.
Kerry lingered, her eyes locked onto my cock, still swollen and throbbing, the tip glistening with pre-cum. She bit her lower lip, her breath coming faster, as if she were fighting an internal battle.
Then, in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, she spoke.
"Dexter..." Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips, and my cock jerked in response. "Are you sure your cock isn't hurting? It looks just like it did this morning... so swollen... so angry..." Her gaze flicked up to mine, dark and hungry, before dropping back down to where my cock pulsed, the tip already slick with pre-cum. "Should I use my saliva... and see if it helps?"
I didn't answer. I didn't need to.
Kerry sank to her knees in front of me, the movement slow, deliberate, like she was savoring every second. The leaves covering her body shifted, parting just enough to give me a glimpse of the soft flesh of her thighs, the shadowed heat between them.