Rachel stood in front of me outside the cave, her hands clasped together, her eyes darting nervously.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Can we talk?" she said quietly.
I stepped closer, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back gently. She gasped, her body arching toward me instinctively.
"I've missed the way you squirm under me," I said, my voice low, my other hand sliding down her back to grip her ass.
"Jack—" she whispered, her breath quickening. "It's... it's important."
"What's more important than this?" I asked, grinding my hips against her. My cock was already hardening.
She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to melt into me. Then she opened them, and I saw something that killed my arousal instantly.
Fear.
Not fear of me. Fear of something else.
"David said he wants to kill himself," she whispered.
I released her hair.
"What?"
"He told me tonight," she said, tears forming in her eyes. "He said he can't take it anymore. He said there's no point. He said everyone would be better off without him."
I stared at her for a long moment.
Fuck.
"Stay here," I said.
---
I walked back inside and found David sitting alone near the far wall of the main chamber, away from the others. His knees were drawn up to his chest. His bruised face was blank and empty.
I sat down across from him.
He looked up but didn't say a word.
"Your mother tells me you want to die," I said flatly.
He didn't react. Just stared at the stone floor.
"So you're becoming bold now," I continued. "Finally growing a spine. Just to use it on yourself."
Nothing.
"Let me tell you what happens if you kill yourself, David," I said, leaning forward. "Your mother won't follow you. She won't commit suicide out of grief. You know why? Because she has me now. She'll cry for a week, maybe two. Then she'll move on. She'll spread her legs for me every night, and she won't think about you."
His jaw tightened. Good. A reaction.
"I'll fuck her on your grave," I said. "I'll make her scream my name while you rot in the dirt. And eventually, she'll forget what you look like."
"Stop," he whispered.
"Why? You don't want to hear it? Then don't be a coward."
He looked up at me, his eyes wet. "It's okay."
I frowned. "What's okay?"
"Take her," he said quietly. "My mom. She was someone's wife before me. She'll be fine with you."
I studied him. He was giving up. Not just on himself—on everything. On his mother. On his life. On his claim to anything.
But there was something else in his eyes.
"It's not your mother you care about losing," I said slowly. "Is it?"
He looked away.
"It's Mia," I said.
His whole body flinched.
"You want Mia," I said. "Don't you?"
"I love her," he whispered, his voice cracking. "But knowing the kind of person you are... you'll take her too. Just like you took my mom."
I smiled. "I will fuck her soon. Have you seen her pussy? Tight. Pink. Perfect."
His hands clenched into fists. His breathing quickened.
And I noticed it.
The bulge in his pants.
"You're hard," I said, glancing down. "You're sitting here talking about killing yourself, and you've got a hard-on thinking about me fucking Mia."
His face went crimson. He tried to cover himself with his hands.
"That's pathetic, David," I said.
"Please," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Can you just... can you let me watch? When you fuck her. Just let me be there. Please."
I stared at him for a long moment.
Then I stood up.
"No," I said. "You want to die? Die. But you don't get to watch."
I walked away.
---
Rachel was waiting outside the main chamber, her face tight with worry.
"Is he okay?" she asked. "Did you talk to him? Is he—"
I grabbed her hand.
"He needs time," I said. "He's not going to kill himself."
"How do you know?"
"Because I gave him a reason not to."
She stared at me, confused. "What reason?"
I didn't answer. I just pulled her toward my chamber.
"Jack, wait—" she started.
"You said you needed my dick," I reminded her.
She went quiet. Her cheeks flushed red.
"That was before—"
"You need this," I said. "And so do I."
I pulled her into my chamber and closed the heavy wooden door behind us.
The room was lit by a single lantern, casting warm flickering shadows across the stone walls. A wide cot sat against the far wall.
Rachel stood in the center of the room, trembling.
"Come here," I said.
She walked toward me slowly, her eyes locked on mine. When she reached me, I grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head.
Her breasts spilled free—full, heavy, her dark nipples already hard. I cupped them, squeezing, feeling their weight in my hands.
She moaned softly, her head falling back.
"Shorts," I said.
She pushed them down her hips along with her panties, stepping out of them. She stood naked in front of me—curves everywhere, her skin warm and tanned, her pussy already glistening with wetness.
"Lie down," I ordered. "On the cot. On your back."
She obeyed, lying down and spreading her legs without being told. Her pussy was swollen and wet, her lips parted, her arousal already dripping down to her ass.
I knelt between her thighs.
"Jack," she whispered. "Please. I need—"
"I know what you need," I said. "But we're going to try something different tonight."
She looked at me, confused. "What do you mean?"
I spread her pussy lips apart with my thumbs, exposing her fully. Her clit was already swollen, throbbing.
"Has anyone ever made you squirt before?" I asked.
She blinked. "What? No. I—I don't think I can—"
"You can," I said. "And you will."
I slid two fingers inside her—she was so wet there was no resistance. Her pussy clenched around my fingers, warm and slick and desperate.
She moaned, her hips rolling immediately.
I started moving my fingers slowly, curling them upward. Searching.
When I found that rough, spongy patch deep inside her, I pressed down firmly.
Rachel's entire body jerked off the cot.
"Oh—oh god—" she gasped, her eyes flying open. "What—what is that—"
"Your G-spot," I said, rubbing it in slow, firm circles. "Has anyone ever touched you here?"
She shook her head frantically, her fingers clawing at the thin mattress. "No—never—oh god, Jack, that feels—"
I pressed harder. My two fingers made a steady 'come here' motion inside her, massaging that swollen spot relentlessly.
Her back arched. Her hands flew to the sides of the cot, gripping so hard her knuckles went white.
"Jack—Jack, something's happening—" she gasped, her voice rising with panic. "I feel like I need to—I feel like I'm going to—"
"Let go," I said firmly.
"I can't—it feels like I'm going to pee—I don't want to—"
"You're not going to pee," I said, my fingers moving faster, pressing harder. "You're going to squirt. And you're going to do it all over my hand. Now let go."
"No—I can't—I've never—"
I leaned down and sealed my lips around her clit, sucking hard while my fingers hammered her G-spot.
Rachel screamed.
Her back arched violently off the cot. Her thighs clamped around my head. And a gush of clear fluid sprayed from her pussy—hot and forceful, soaking my hand, my wrist, my forearm. It splattered against my chest and pooled on the cot beneath her.
She squirted.
For the first time in her life.
Her eyes went impossibly wide, her mouth frozen in a silent scream. Her body convulsed, her hips bucking, more fluid gushing out with each spasm.
"Oh my GOD!" she screamed. "Oh my god—what's happening to me—I can't stop—"
I pulled my fingers out and looked at my hand. It was drenched. The cot was soaked. Rachel was shaking violently, staring at the wetness between her legs in shock.
"I—I'm sorry—" she gasped, her face burning with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to—I've never—"
"Don't apologize," I said, sliding my fingers back inside her. "We're doing it again."
"What? No—I can't—"
I found her G-spot immediately this time and pressed down hard.
She screamed, her body jackknifing off the cot.
"Again," I ordered.
"JACK—"
I rubbed that spot relentlessly—fast, firm circles that made obscene wet sounds in the quiet chamber. My other hand found her clit, rubbing it in tight, rapid circles.
She squirted again—harder this time. A long, powerful spray that hit my chest and stomach, soaking through my shirt. The sound was obscene—a wet, rushing gush that echoed off the stone walls.
"FUCK!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "Oh FUCK—Jack—I can't—it won't stop—"
I didn't let up. I kept my fingers buried inside her, pressing and rubbing and curling.
"One more," I said.
"No—please—I can't—it's too much—"
"One more, Rachel."
I pulled my fingers out and replaced them with my tongue, burying my face between her trembling thighs. She tasted incredible—sweet and musky and overwhelming. Her juices coated my face, dripped from my chin.
I licked her from her entrance to her clit, my tongue pushing inside her while my fingers found her clit and rubbed furiously.
She came again—squirting directly onto my face.
"You taste so fucking good," I growled against her soaking pussy.
Rachel was sobbing now—not from pain or sadness, but from sheer overwhelming pleasure. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, her hands clawing at the mattress, her legs trembling so hard the cot was rattling against the stone floor.
I sat up, wiping my face with the back of my hand. I looked down at her.
She was destroyed. Her hair was plastered to her face with sweat. Her breasts heaved with every ragged breath. Her pussy was swollen and red, still twitching, still dripping.
And the cot was absolutely soaked. A dark, spreading stain that had already dripped onto the stone floor.
"I'm not done with you," I said, pulling off my soaked shirt and unbuckling my belt.
Her eyes widened as she saw my cock —thick, hard, the veins standing out, the tip dark and swollen.
"Jack, I don't know if I can—"
"You can," I said, positioning myself between her legs. "And you will."
I pushed inside her in one long, slow thrust.