"I—I can’t—" My voice cracked, half-choked. It wasn’t a lie. The way her thighs brushed against mine, the damp warmth radiating from between them—if she didn’t stop, I was going to blow right here in these stupid leaf shorts, and that wasn’t part of the plan.
Kerry pulled back with a smirk, her fingers trailing down my chest like she owned me. "How do you expect to handle a woman if you can’t even breathe?" Her laugh was low, mocking, like she had me figured out.
Oh, she had no idea.
I locked eyes with her—Aunt Kerry—and let my lips curl into something darker. I wasn’t the one who was supposed to be on the back foot. I was the fucking playboy here. The one who broke women, not the other way around.
My hand dropped to my crotch, fingers digging in like I was in agony. "Aah—fuck, Aunt—it hurts..." I groaned, letting my voice shake just enough to sell it.
Her smirk vanished in an instant. "Dexter?" Her hands were on me before I could blink, gripping my waist, her face twisted with concern. "Where? Did you get hurt? Let me see—"
I didn’t hesitate. The second her fingers fumbled with the leaf skirt, I let my magical tool dissolve the modern underwear beneath it—no way was I explaining that to her. The fabric vanished, leaving only the flimsy leaf cover, and the second she yanked it down—
My cock sprang free, thick and veiny, already leaking at the tip. The sudden release sent it swinging forward, the heavy weight of it slapping hard against Kerry’s cheek.
SMACK.
Kerry moaned out in surprise, " Aaaah"
A wet, obscene sound echoed between us as my dick left a glistening trail of pre-cum across her skin, the mushroom head smacking her just below her cheekbone. The impact was hard enough to leave a faint red mark, the heat of her skin making my cock twitch against her face.
Kerry froze.
Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as her wide eyes locked onto my cock—thick, veiny, and circumcised, nothing like the rough, uncut dicks she was used to.
The glistening tip was already leaking, a thick bead of pre-cum dripping down, smearing across her cheek where my cock had just slapped her. Her lips parted, her tongue darting out almost instinctively, like she was drawn to the salty wetness coating her skin.
"W-what...?" Her voice was a breathy, confused whisper, her fingers still clutching my waist like she’d forgotten how to let go.
She’d never seen a cock like this—never had one smack her face, never had one so close to her mouth, already throbbing, already demanding her attention. The way she stared at it—like she was hypnotized—made my cock twitch even harder.
Then, her expression shifted. Concern flooded her face as she gently—too gently—wrapped her fingers around my shaft. "Dexter... what happened to your cock?" she murmured, her thumb brushing over the swollen, flushed head. "It looks so... angry. Oh my god, it’s huge—so much bigger... and so thick..."
I could see the shock in her eyes. Of course, she was shocked. My cock wasn’t just big—it was circumcised, the smooth, exposed head already dark red from how fucking hard I was. Nothing like the men in her tribe. She’d never seen a cock like this—bare, veiny, the tip already weeping for her.
Her fingers trembled as she poked at the head. "The skin... It’s gone. Is that why it hurts? But there’s no cut... no blood..." She pressed a little harder, her touch sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. "Does it hurt here?" Her finger circled the tip, and I had to bite back a groan.
"Nnn—yes, Aunt..." I forced a whimper, my voice rough with fake pain. "It burns..." (It did—but not the way she thought.)
Her innocence was fucking killing me. The way she touched me—like I was something fragile, something that needed fixing—her soft fingers tracing the veins of my cock with wide-eyed fascination.
"It’s so hot..." she whispered, her thumb brushing over the slick bead of pre-cum oozing from the tip. "And it’s dripping so much... Is this... is this sickness?"
I let out a shaky breath, my hips twitching forward, pressing my cock deeper into her grip. "Y-yes, Aunt..." I gasped, my voice rough with fake desperation.
"It’s infected... just like when your pussy gets rubbed too much—it starts leaking, right? Swells up? Burns?" I could see the confusion flicker across her face, her fingers tightening around my shaft like she was afraid she’d break me.
"Oh no—" Her voice pitched higher, panic creeping in. "You must be in so much pain! What do I do? Should I fetch the healer? Or—or Uncle Mitt?" Her eyes darted between my cock and my face, her breath coming faster. "I don’t know how to fix this! It’s nothing like the men here—"
"No!" I cut her off, my voice cracking just enough to sound desperate. "Aunt, please—they won’t understand! They’ll just make it worse..." I whimpered, my cock throbbing in her hand. "But you... You can help me..."
Her cheeks burned crimson, her fingers trembling around my shaft like she was holding something forbidden. "M-me? How?" she stammered, her voice cracking. "I don’t know the first thing about—"
"Your mouth," I cut in, my voice rough and desperate, dripping with fake agony. "My grandfather taught me—when a woman cleans it with her tongue, the pain fades. The infection heals." I let my hips twitch forward, pressing the slick tip of my cock against her lips, watching her flinch.
Her breath hitched, her eyes wide and horrified. "M-my tongue?!" She stared at my cock like it was some kind of cursed object, her thumb smearing the pre-cum in slow, clumsy circles over the swollen head. "But I’ve never—! What if I hurt you? What if I make it worse?"
A slow, predatory smirk tugged at my lips.
Of course, she’s never done this.
This reaction confirmed it—no teasing, no foreplay, just raw, primal sex. They fucked like animals, driven by instinct, not desire for pleasure. Maybe they only did it to reproduce, or maybe they didn’t bother at all if they didn’t want children.