Heart of the Hunter

I paused before answering. “Yes,” I said at last.

“Good girl,” he said, grinning, and began playing with the delicate folds of my clit, his thumb gently touching me, making me so wet that his enormous cock might just be able to slide inside me.

“Have you ever done this before?” I said.

“Fucked?” he said.

“No, not fucked. Fucked without a condom, taking the risk of letting something happen?”

He shook his head. “This is a first in more ways than one, Lacey.”

“Oh, God,” I gasped, as his finger slid inside my wet *.

It was the first time in my life that any part of Grant had entered my body, and all I wanted was more. I wanted everything he had to give. I wanted him to be so deeply inside me that I’d never be able to remove the traces he left of himself.

“Secondly,” he continued, “when I come inside you, when the semen flows from my body into your body, when that most intimate thing happens, you’re going to be wearing your mother’s wedding dress.”

I caught his eye. What was he doing? What did all this mean? Was he trying to tell me something, or was he trying to find the most intimate, meaningful, one-night-stand in the history of one-night-stands?

“Okay,” I said.

“You don’t have a problem with that?” he said, his long, index finger sliding in and out of my wet * in the most intoxicating way imaginable. My hips were thrusting up and down with the motion of his hand. I was ready for him to enter me. I was ready for him to fuck my brains out. I was dying for him.

“No problems here,” I said, or rather, tried to say. It came out more as a moan than a proper sentence.

“Good,” he said, looking down at me, his thumb rapidly rubbing over my clit as his index finger fucked me repeatedly, “because there’s one final part to the fantasy.”

“The fantasy?”

“That’s right, Lacey. Are you ready to hear it?”

I was on the verge of coming. I would have said anything to make him stop talking and start fucking me. I wanted him so badly I was ready to scream.

“I’m ready,” I panted.

“It’s a little strange.”

“I don’t care,” I panted.

“We’ve got one night to make up for seventeen years,” he said.

“Just tell me what it is, Grant.”

“The moment you orgasm, I want you to cry out husband, okay?”

“And you’ll cry out wife?”

“That’s right.”

“Why, Grant?”

“Call it a fantasy,” he said. “It’s just something I want to do with you. Just this once.”

I shook my head. “You’re weird, Grant Lucas. I always knew you were weird.”

He smiled. “I’m weird, Lacey. But will you do it for me?”

His finger was making a beckoning motion inside my *, bringing me so close to the verge of orgasm that I was almost in tears.

“If I say yes, will you stop talking and start fucking me?”

He nodded. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes, Grant.”





Chapter 8


Grant


SHE WAS SQUIRMING IN PLEASURE. I couldn’t believe I was actually touching her vagina. It was such a thrill my throbbing cock almost squirted all over her before it even touched her, but I restrained myself.

From somewhere, I don’t even know where, I started concocting a fantasy. I made her make promises that I didn’t even know I wanted her to make.

I told her we’d fuck without a condom. I never fucked without a condom. I never took needless risks.

I told her she’d be wearing her mother’s wedding dress. What did that have to do with anything?

And worst of all, I told her to call me husband, and I’d call her wife. Where the hell did that come from? I didn’t even want to get married. Not ever.

All I can say, is that I was losing it. I was so excited to know I was going to fuck her, that I was losing hold of my senses.

She was so ready for me she was practically orgasming already. She was writhing in pleasure, my finger playing with her * like it was a toy.

“Are you going to fuck me?” she moaned.

I smiled at her, then climbed down beneath the skirt of her silk dress. She gasped. I felt the muscles in her thighs clench in apprehension. She was right to be scared. I was going to devour her and there was no longer anything she could do about it.

Once my head was inside her skirt, I inhaled deeply. I wanted to breathe in the scent of her. That sounds like a strange thing to do, but everything about that night was strange, and I’d waited so long for that moment that I wanted to savor every tiny detail.

Her * was already dripping wet when my tongue reached the soft folds of her clitoris. She gasped and moaned as I slid my tongue over it, moving it back and forth. I knew she was desperate to get my cock inside her, but there was one more thing I wanted from her.

I wanted to hear her beg.

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