Chapter 18: Milfs Are Hated

"Everyone in our Kronos tribe—and even other tribes—once a woman chooses a man, she follows him... And why would anyone want to have sex with me....?"

Her gaze locked onto mine, her voice filled with a mix of confusion and disbelief. "Nobody would even ask someone this question... ?"

I pressed further, my voice gentle, my fingers still brushing against her skin. "Why is that, Aunt?"

Kerry sighed, as if explaining something obvious to a child. "Oh.... because no man would like to mate with a woman who already has a man... because it is considered dirty..."

She shifted slightly, her fingers resuming their slow strokes along my cock, her touch sending shivers down my spine. "Every man wants a clean woman... to give birth to his child..."

I tilted my head, pretending to be confused, my voice soft and innocent. "What do you mean by a clean woman?"

Kerry blinked, as if surprised I didn’t know. "Didn’t your mother teach you this?"

My stomach twisted for just a second—fuck, I almost slipped—but I forced my expression into something wounded, my fingers tightening just slightly around Kerry’s wrist where she still gripped my cock.

The lie about my parents being torn apart by a tiger was fresh in my mind, the story I’d fed these people to explain why I was alone, why I was there.

I let my voice crack, my eyes dropping to the stone floor between us. "Mother..." I whispered, my throat tightening with false grief. "She ignored me when I asked her about this. She just... patted my head and said I was still a kid. That I wouldn’t understand."

My fingers trembled against her skin, selling the lie. "She never got to explain before—" My voice hitched, just like it would if I were really holding back tears. "Before the tiger took them both."

Kerry’s breath caught, her grip on my cock loosening as her free hand cupped my cheek, her thumb brushing away a nonexistent tear. "Oh, Dexter..." she murmured, her voice thick with sympathy. "You poor, poor boy. No one ever told you how these things work?"

I shook my head, letting my lower lip wobble. "No one’s left to tell me now." My hips shifted restlessly, my cock twitching in her grip, the movement drawing her attention back down. "Except you, Aunt Kerry."

Kerry’s expression softened as she realised that I had just lost my mom and dad, her fingers squeezing my cock gently, her touch filled with sympathy. "I’m sorry, Dexter... I didn’t mean to upset you..."

She paused, as if gathering her thoughts, her voice quiet and almost reverent. "Okay, I will tell you... don’t be sad..."

"On the day a woman and man mate for the first time... the woman bleeds as the man’s cock enters inside her..." Her fingers traced the thick veins of my cock, her touch sending waves of pleasure through me.

"That blood signifies the purity of a woman... So once a man takes away a woman’s purity, she will be considered dirty from other men’s perspective..."

I chuckled internally. This fucking purity nonsense... virginity cults... But this is good for me.

Because if Kerry believed in this purity bullshit, then she’d never suspect what I was really after.

And if she thought I was still a kid—an innocent, untouched boy—then she’d never see me as a threat.

Not until it was too late.

I looked at her, my voice soft, almost vulnerable, my fingers brushing against her cheek. "Aunt Kerry... if my cock wasn’t hurt... would you let me put it inside you? Just to calm it down... like Uncle Mitt does?"

My fingers traced the curve of her cheek, my touch deliberate but gentle, as if I were truly just a lost boy seeking comfort. Her grip on my cock tightened just slightly, her thumb brushing over the slick tip where pre-cum glistened, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

Kerry’s cheeks burned as her fingers tightened around my throbbing cock, her thumb tracing slow, teasing circles over the slick, leaking tip.

Her breath came in uneven gasps, her dark eyes darting between my face and the thick, veiny length of me—like she was torn between shame and hunger. The air between us crackled with something electric: guilt, lust, and the raw, animalistic pull of forbidden desire.

"Dexter..." Her voice trembled, thick with conflict. "You’re still just a boy. You don’t know what you’re asking for." Her stroke faltered, her touch hesitant but impossibly hungry. "And when you’re older, you’ll look back and resent me. For corrupting you. For taking what I shouldn’t..."

I let my lower lip tremble, my voice trembling with practiced innocence. "But I’m not a kid anymore, Aunt Kerry." My hips shifted restlessly beneath her touch, my cock twitching in her grip, desperate for more.

"I’m old enough to know what I want. And it—it hurts so bad..." I wrapped my fingers around hers, guiding her to stroke me slower, deeper, my voice breaking just enough to sound pleading. "Please... I don’t know what else to do..."

Her breath hitched, her fingers curling around mine as we worked my cock together, her thumb brushing over the sensitive head. "Oh, Dexter..." she murmured, her voice thick with torment. "You don’t understand what you’re asking for..."

I tilted my head up, my gaze locking onto hers, soft but probing. "Aunt Kerry... would Uncle Mitt hate you if he found out? If he knew you let me put my cock inside you?"

Her fingers stilled. Just for a second. Then her grip tightened, almost imperceptibly. "Why would he hate me?" she whispered, confusion threading through her voice.

"For putting my cock inside your pussy," I clarified, my voice barely above a breath.

She let out a hollow, humorless laugh, her fingers resuming their slow, torturous strokes. "He wouldn’t hate me, Dexter." Her voice dropped, darker now.

"But Mitt? Oh, he will probably make fun of you." Her dark eyes burned into mine. "For wanting a dirty, used-up woman like me. For stooping so low. And he’d laugh—God, he’d laugh—because I’m old enough to be your—"