Greer pulled the curtains aside and opened the window to get a little fresh air into the room. As she turned, Hunter neared her, stepping in and grazing his hands around her narrow waist. He tilted his head, angling his lips so close to hers that her breath hitched in her throat in anticipation.
He was squeezing and kneading her waist almost as though he couldn’t believe she was real and when he pressed his lips against hers, the intensity behind his kiss conveyed a deep sense of loneliness. There was something desperate in the way he needed her, or so it seemed.
“Hey,” she said softly, urging him back so she could get a read on him. “I don’t want to have to ask you if you’re okay again.”
He concentrated on unbuttoning her jean shorts and said, “I don’t want you to have to ask me that again either.”
She was about to object, but he pressed his lips to hers again, as he unzipped her shorts and worked them down over her hips. She decided that forcing him to come clean about what had been disturbing him—of course it had been Jamie, but she was still at a loss in terms of understanding why he was so deeply affected—would only risk him pulling away and shutting down all over again.
Her shorts fell to the floor and she stepped out of them, feeling his big, warm hands massaging her ass. He grazed his fingers under her pink, cotton panties, exploring the crease where her buttocks met.
She moaned and draped her arms over his broad shoulders, widening her stance for him to fondle her.
When he did, caressing the length of her labia from behind and tracing his fingertip along her moist slit with the lightest, most gentle touch, she let out a dreamy sigh and began kissing his neck.
But it wasn’t lost on her that she only had Hunter’s body in this moment. Somehow he was still a million miles away.
She took hold of his face, looking up at him, and searched his eyes, as he played between her legs. She could feel his penis growing erect beneath his jeans where their hips pressed together.
He clenched his jaw, exhaling heavily, as he drank in the sight of her and when he kissed her again, he was so forceful and hungry about it, sucking her lips and probing his tongue into her mouth, that she thought he might draw blood.
“Hunter,” she breathed, urging him to calm, her hands pressed firmly against the wall of his chest.
He loosened his grip, but only by a fraction, and yanked her panties down. When they hit the floor, she stepped out of them and widened her stance all over again, inviting him to touch her.
His intensity, the urgency and forcefulness he used grabbing her ass and pulling her against him again, caused a rush of arousal to flutter between her legs. He was turning her on but also scaring her and she suddenly felt as though he might be a complete stranger.
Without warning, he lifted her. Her legs wrapped his waist and as he held her firmly, one arm under her ass, he used his free hand to rip her tee shirt up and over her head.
Her arms whipped up but as soon as the garment fell to the floor, her hands were back on his shoulders.
He carried her to the bed and dropped her. She bounced against the mattress, as he grabbed her thighs, keeping her legs spread for him.
She was wet and aching for him to penetrate her. The sight of him kneeling on the bed, staring down at her vagina, his breath quickening as he studied her most private parts was so erotic that she began squirming just to see how much strength he might exert to keep her still.
The next thing she knew, he had braced his palm against her stomach. As he held her down, one hand just north of her pubic bone, he slipped two fingers inside of her tight, throbbing vagina and she gasped in surprise. He began massaging his fingers along her frontal wall in a way that stirred up heat and slippery friction.
Hunter hadn’t removed a stitch of his own clothing. She reached for him, aiming to unbutton his jeans, but he caught her wrists and pinned her hands above her head.
She stared into his eyes, anxiously anticipating what he might do next and feeling the throbbing ache between her legs return.
He clamped her wrists together with one hand, a stern look clouding over his expression, and used his free hand to jerk her pink, cotton bra above her breasts.
As he roughly shoved his hand beneath her back and unsnapped her bra with expert precision, she whispered, “What’s gotten into you?”
“I don’t know,” he said in a smooth, deep voice devoid of emotion. “But I need this.”
He released her wrists only to tear her bra down her arms and throw it aside, after which he quickly unbuttoned his jeans, pulled the zipper down, and freed his long, thick erection.
In the moment that followed, he grasped hold of her hair at the nape of her neck, dominating her, and thrust himself inside her so forcefully that she cried out.
When she quieted, tears stinging her eyes, his expression softened with concern so she breathed, “Just do it,” suddenly interested in discovering how hard he might go on her.
His thick, hard penis filled her completely, stretching her tight, wet vagina, though he held himself deep inside of her as though this moment of complete physical connection had somehow brought him back to life.
She could feel his jeans dig into her inner thighs. His tee shirt brushed against her stomach as he breathed. His fist balling her hair pinched her scalp, but as uncomfortable as these aspects were, they only added to the sweet, mounting pleasure between her legs.
He began thrusting.
Gently at first—smooth strokes that sent a flare of arousal blossoming deep inside—he soon became forceful, pounding into her, the hard tip of his penis slamming again and again, yet grazing so sweetly over her g-spot that she couldn’t help but moan and let her entire body go limp, allowing him to take her in the manner he needed most.
The heat and slippery friction deep inside swelled with the onset of a mounting orgasm. Greer’s eyes drifted shut in response, her mouth opening wide, but he tightened his fist around her hair and she gasped, eyes widening up at him, as he thrust into her harder and faster.
She didn’t know what had gotten into him, but she liked it and to provoke him further she said, “Is that all you’ve got?” as a powerful rush of tingling heat bloomed between her legs, marking the first tightening clench of her climax.
The next thing she knew, he had sat back on his heels, his throbbing erection deep inside her, and yanked her legs into the air. He slapped her feet onto his shoulders, Greer lying on her back, her ass on his thighs, and as he began thrusting his hard penis into her at this new surprising angle, he reached under her ass, spread her cheeks apart, and traced his slippery finger around her anus as if asserting that this region also belonged to him.
“Oh God,” she said, aroused into a new height of pleasure thanks to the added stimulation. She had to make herself keep breathing, relax her body, surrender to his primal needs, as he dared penetrate his finger into her ass, his hard erection thrusting all the while. She was on the brink, the sensual combination of being filled in both places causing a fresh billow of ecstasy to blossom throughout her genitals.
In response, Hunter slowed his pace, delivering long, firm strokes that stimulated her tight, wet vagina, inch by inch.
He groaned, looking down at his work, at the erotic sight of his erection sliding in and out of her, at the way her breasts jiggled every time he’d thrust in so hard and far that the tip of his penis was met with firm resistance deep inside of her.
While he continued probing his finger in and out of her anus and thrusting his erection slowly and firmly, he began gently massaging her clitoris with his free hand.
The added sensation was all it took. She locked eyes with him, as those intermittent clenches swelled into a powerful orgasm, which began rolling through her entire body, wave after blissful wave. She cried out and he quickened his pace. Before long she was moaning loudly over the sound of his deep groans, as he climaxed in flawless timing.
The burst, their bodies coming in perfect orchestration, lingered in the sweetest way, and soon they relaxed, breathing heavily and subsiding.
He wiped the sweat off his brow then plowed all ten fingers through his shaggy hair, combing it back, as his motionless yet hard penis pulsed inside of her.
When he rested his hands on her spread thighs, she studied his expression. No longer hardened with meanness she’d never seen before, Hunter now looked remorseful, as though he had taken things too far.
“Hey,” she said, lifting up onto her elbows and offering him a reassuring smile. “I’m here for you.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
She let out a breathy laugh, saying, “No, not at all.”
He ran his hand down his face then shielded his eyes and after a long moment his shoulders began shaking. As it dawned on her that he was crying, she sat up, his softening penis slipping out of her, and took hold of his hands.
“Hey,” she said again, though much gentler this time.
“I don’t know why...” he began to explain, but he couldn’t get the words out.
She wrapped her arms around him, guided him to the bed, and held him tightly.
“Shh,” she whispered, stroking his hair, as she cradled him.
He let out a frustrated sigh, his tears tapering off, then said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” she whispered, and soon they drifted off to sleep.
The next morning as they woke with the sun, showered, and got ready for the second day of art camp, Greer knew that something inside of Hunter had changed. He seemed different—not worse or better, but unlike himself.
It wasn’t until they arrived at the Youth Rec Center however, and watched as clusters of children laughed and skipped their way into the building that Hunter’s mood turned especially dark.
And she knew why.
Jamie Sand hadn’t shown up.