I made sure to fill her up well, and send her home dripping 💦 who knows what might come out of her in around 9 months 😉

Would you raise my offspring as your sibling or secretly despise them? Be honest 🤭

Rachel and Hunter: A Mother and Her son’s Bully Chronicles.

Episode 23 – “Camping Trip plus State Finals”

FYI:Episodes mean sexual encounters between Rachel and Hunter.

Saturday morning started early in the Smith house.

Rachel stood at the stove in a black sports bra and matching high-waisted shorts, flipping eggs and bacon while the Breville hissed behind her. The kitchen smelled like coffee and grease. Mark came in wearing an olive green hiking shirt and a baseball cap, already carrying two duffel bags. Ethan followed more slowly, left forearm in a white cast, gray hoodie half-zipped, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Emily bounded downstairs in her navy-and-gold cheer uniform, yellow bow perfect, duffel bag over one shoulder.

“State finals, baby!🤗” 

she said, kissing Rachel on the cheek. 

“I’ll text you after every routine.”

Mark hugged Rachel from behind, hands resting on her hips. 

“Three days. Me and Ethan, 😄 some fishing, no cell service half the time. You sure you don’t want to come? We could still make room.☺️”

Rachel smiled over her shoulder, but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

“You know I hate hiking.🙄The last time you dragged me out there I spent the whole weekend pretending the mosquitoes were a personality test.😆 Go. Have fun. Don’t let him fall in the lake.🤭”

Ethan barely looked up from his phone. 

“I’m not five.”

Mark’s jaw tightened as he looked at the cast. The anger was still sitting right under the surface — the same anger that had been there since the day Ethan came home with his arm broken and the school once again said there wasn’t enough evidence to prove who was responsible. He’d wanted to drive to Hunter’s house himself. Rachel had talked him down. Barely.

They sat around the kitchen island—scrambled eggs, bacon, orange juice, toast, a bowl of berries in the middle. Emily was already talking a mile a minute.

“Coach said if we hit 2 or more perfect scores back to back we moved on to the next round.🤗Jenna’s still nervous about the dismount we’ve practiced long enough but I told her she’s overthinking it.🤷🏻‍♀️”

Mark poured himself more coffee and glanced at Ethan’s cast. 

“You good for the drive? We’re gonna be in the RV most of the day.🥸”

Ethan poked at his eggs with his good hand. 

“Yeah.”

“You packed the sling?”

“It’s in my bag.”

Mark’s jaw flexed. The anger was still right there under the surface. 

“School still hasn’t done shit about it. I still can’t believe they looked at the footage and said it was ‘inconclusive.’”

Rachel reached for the orange juice pitcher. 

“Mark.”

“I’m just saying. Kid comes home with a broken arm and they act like it’s a playground accident.”

Ethan kept his eyes on his plate. 

“Can we not talk about it.”

Emily glanced between them, then tried to lighten the mood. 

“At least you’ll have good signal for the first couple hours, right? You can text me when you get to the campsite.”

Mark forced a small smile for her. 

“We’ll try. You just focus on the competition. Don’t worry about us.”

Rachel set the pitcher down. 

“He’s right. Go dominate. We’ll be fine here.”

Emily grinned. 

“I know. I’m just gonna miss having you in the stands.”

“I’ll be watching the live stream the second it goes up,” 

Rachel said.

Mark looked at her across the island. 

“You sure you don’t want to come with us? Last chance. We can still make room.”

Rachel shook her head, smiling the same way she always did when she was deflecting. 

“You know I hate hiking. The second I step on a trail I start calculating how long until I can get back to Wi-Fi and a real bathroom. Go. Have fun. Don’t let him fall in the lake.”

Ethan muttered,

“I know dad I know” 

but there was no real fight in it.

Mark reached over and squeezed Rachel’s hand once, quick. 

“Alright. We’ll check in when we get signal. Love you.”

“Love you too,” 

she said.

Emily stood up, grabbed her duffel, and kissed Rachel on the cheek. 

“Okay, Maya’s mom’s gonna be here any second. Love you guys.”

The table went quieter after that. Ethan finished what he could of his breakfast. Mark checked the weather app one more time. Rachel cleared a couple plates just to have something to do with her hands.

By 8:10 the black SUV pulled up out front. Maya’s mom stepped out, waving.

Rachel walked Emily to the curb. The two mothers hugged briefly.

“You sure you’re okay with taking the whole squad to the airport?🤔” 

Rachel asked.

Maya’s mom laughed. 

“Are you kidding?😆I’ve been living for this chaos all season. We’ll get them there in one piece. You enjoy the quiet house😜.”

“I’ll try,” 

Rachel said, and meant it more than she wanted to admit.

Emily threw her arms around her one more time. 

“Love you, Mom. Don’t forget to watch the live stream if you can.❤️”

“I will. Go dominate.”

Emily climbed into the back seat with two other girls already waving. The SUV pulled away.

Mark was standing by the rented Jayco, the big white-and-gray RV taking up most of the driveway. He gave Rachel a thumbs-up from the open door.

“I got this,” 

he called. 

“We’ll check in when we get signal. Love you.🥸❤️”

Rachel lifted a hand. 

“Love you too. Be safe.”

Through the RV’s side window she could see Ethan already sitting in one of the captain’s chairs, casted arm in his lap, staring straight ahead with that same closed-off expression he’d been wearing for weeks.

The engine started. The Jayco pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the street.

The house felt bigger than usual.

Rachel’s phone buzzed.

Trinity 💜**:** Gym in 30? Legs and cardio. You’re free, right?

Rachel typed back: Be there.

The gym was already busy when she arrived. Trinity was waiting by the entrance in a lavender sports bra and charcoal leggings. They hugged, then headed straight for the treadmills.

For the first twenty minutes they just ran side by side, talking about nothing important—Emily’s competition, some new true-crime podcast, how Mark still couldn’t pack a cooler without forgetting the ice packs. Then they moved to the free weights.

They were in the middle of a set of goblet squats when two guys in their late twenties drifted over, water bottles in hand, clearly working up the courage.

The taller one smiled at Rachel. 

“You two need a spot? Or just company?😜”

Trinity didn’t even slow down. 

“We’re good.🙄”

The second guy tried anyway, looking at Rachel. 

“Come on. You look like you could use a break. Let us buy you a protein shake after.”

Rachel racked the dumbbell and wiped her face with her towel. 

“We’re both married. Appreciate the offer, though.☺️”

The first guy held up his hands, still smiling. “Can’t blame us for trying.”

They walked off. Trinity waited until they were out of earshot, then muttered, 

“Every single time.”

Rachel just shook her head and grabbed the next set of weights.

A few minutes later, while they were resting between sets, Trinity finally said it.

“You’ve been weird the last couple weeks.”

Rachel racked the dumbbell. 

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You’re distracted. And you keep checking your phone like you’re waiting for something bad.”

They finished the set in silence, then grabbed water and sat on a bench near the windows.

Rachel wiped her face with a towel. 

“I’ve been seeing someone.”

Trinity’s expression didn’t change much. She’d already known for a while that Rachel wasn’t completely faithful. What she didn’t know was who.

“Is it serious?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Rachel stared at the floor. 

“He’s younger. A lot younger. And he’s connected to the school. To the PTA program.”

Trinity exhaled slowly. 

“Rachel.”

“I know.”

“Does Mark know?”

“Of course not.”

“Does Ethan?”

Rachel’s stomach twisted. The cast. The hallway. The Photo Booth on Hunter’s birthday. Everything stacked on top of itself.

“No.”

Trinity was quiet for a long moment. 

“You need to end it. Before it blows up in your face. You’re not the type who can live with this forever.”

Rachel nodded, but the nod felt empty.

They finished the workout without talking much more about it.

Starbucks was crowded. They sat by the window with iced lattes and a shared croissant. Rachel picked at the pastry more than she ate it.

“I keep telling myself I’m going to stop,😞” 

she said. 

“Every time. And then I don’t.”

Trinity reached across the table and squeezed her hand. 

“Then stop today. While your family’s gone. Use the time to get your head clear.❤️”

Rachel wanted to believe she could.

They hugged outside by the cars. Trinity drove off in her Camry. Rachel was halfway to her Equinox when her phone rang.

Hunter.

She stared at the name for three full rings before answering.

“What?😒”

“I’m at your house,😏” 

he said, casual as anything. 

“Family’s gone, right?😎”

Rachel’s blood went cold. 

“How the fuck do you know that?😠”

“Ethan mentioned the camping trip last week. Figured you’d be alone.”

“You talked to my son about my schedule?”

“He was complaining about having to go. Cast and all. I listened.”

Rachel closed her eyes. The same cast Mark was still furious about. The same arm that had been broken in a “tackle” the school still refused to properly investigate.

“Stay the fuck away from my house.”

“Too late. I’m already on the porch.”

She hung up, got in the Equinox, and drove home faster than she should have.

Hunter was leaning against the porch railing in a black T-shirt and light-wash jeans, messy hair falling into his eyes, looking completely unbothered. Rachel slammed the car door and walked straight up to him.

“You don’t get to show up here,😤” 

she said, voice low and sharp. 

“You don’t get to use my kid for information and then just appear. Not after everything.😠”

Hunter pushed off the railing. 

“You gonna yell at me out here where the neighbors can hear, or you gonna let me in?🤔😈”

Rachel glanced at the house next door. A curtain twitched.

She unlocked the door and jerked her head. 

“Inside. Now.😡”

The second the door closed she turned on him.

“This is done. I’m serious. I spent all morning listening to my friend tell me I need to stop, and she’s right. You’re eighteen. I’m married. I have kids. One of them is still wearing a cast because of you and your friends, and my husband is still ready to drive over to your house himself.”

Hunter just watched her, arms loosely crossed, that same calm half-smile on his face.

“You finished?😎” 

he asked.

“Don’t do that. Don’t stand there like none of this matters.😔”

“It matters to you,😎” 

he said. 

“That’s why you keep opening the door. That’s why you picked me up from school on my birthday and let me fuck you in a Photo Booth in the middle of the mall.😈🍑🍆”

Rachel’s hands were shaking. She walked further into the living room, trying to put distance between them. Hunter followed at a leisurely pace.

“I mean it is this time,😔😒” 

she said. 

“We’re done.😣”

He stopped a few feet away. 

“Okay.😎🤷🏻‍♂️”

The single word was so calm it made her angrier.

“That’s it?🤨 Just ‘okay’?🤷🏻‍♀️”

“You said we’re done. I’m not gonna beg.😎😏” 

He tilted his head. 

“But you’re still standing here. And you’re still looking at me like you want me to push.😈”

Rachel turned away, pressing her fingers to her forehead. The house was too quiet. No kids. No Mark. Just the two of them and the weight of every time she’d already given in — including the Photo Booth only days earlier on his birthday.

“I need a minute,😔” 

she muttered, and walked upstairs.

She went into the master bedroom, closed the door halfway, and changed into a black lace cover-up over now her bra and thong. When she stepped back into the hallway, Hunter was still there, leaning against the wall like he had all the time in the world.

Rachel stood in the bedroom doorway, one hand on the frame.

For a long moment neither of them spoke.

Then Hunter pushed off the wall and walked toward her, slow.

“You can tell me to leave,” 

he said quietly. 

“I’ll go. But we both know that’s not what you want right now.”

Rachel’s breath was uneven. The guilt was loud — Mark somewhere in the mountains with their son, still furious about the cast, Emily competing, Trinity’s voice still in her head. But under it was the same heat that had been winning for months.

She didn’t step back when he reached her.

Hunter’s hand came up, fingers brushing the edge of the lace cover-up, then sliding underneath to rest on the bare skin of her waist.

“Last chance,” 

he murmured.

Rachel looked up at him. Her voice came out rough.

“Don’t make me say it.”

Hunter’s mouth curved. He leaned in, lips almost touching hers.

“Then don’t.”

He kissed her.

It wasn’t soft. It was the kind of kiss that already knew it was going to end with her on her back. Rachel made a broken sound against his mouth and kissed him back harder, fingers fisting in the front of his T-shirt. Hunter walked her backward into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them.

The lace cover-up hit the floor first. Then the sports bra. Hunter’s hands were everywhere—cupping her heavy tits, squeezing her ass through with her black color thong, dragging them down her legs until she stepped out of them. He didn’t bother with his own clothes yet. He just pushed her onto the bed and followed her down, mouth already on her neck, her collarbone, the soft underside of her breast.

Rachel’s hands were in his hair, pulling. 

“Hunter I feel so bad…😣😫”

“I know babe,😏🍆🍑” 

he said against her skin. 

“You’re supposed to be ending this. Instead you’re about to let me fuck you in the bed you share with your husband while he’s gone. Same way you let me fuck you in that Photo Booth on my birthday after you picked me up from school.😈🍆”

He bit down lightly on her nipple and she arched.

Hunter sat back long enough to strip his shirt and jeans. His cock was already hard, thick, the head flushed. Rachel reached for it without thinking, wrapping her hand around the shaft and stroking once, feeling the weight of it. 7.5 inches of the exact thing her body had been starving for.

He didn’t let her stroke him long. He pushed her thighs apart, dragged the head of his cock through her soaked pussy, and pushed in with one slow, continuous thrust until he was buried to the g-spot.

Rachel’s mouth opened on a silent cry. The stretch was still overwhelming every single time. Hunter gave her two seconds to adjust, then started moving—deep, steady strokes that made the headboard tap the wall. He fucked her like he had all day and nowhere else to be.

“Look at me Rachel,😈”

 he said.

She did. His eyes were dark, focused, completely in control.

“You’re not ending shit,😏👹” 

he murmured, fucking her harder. 

“You’re just telling yourself that so you can feel better when you cum on my dick.🤫”

Rachel’s nails dug into his shoulders. The guilt was still there — the cast, the Photo Booth, Mark’s anger — but it only made every stroke feel sharper. She came first with her face turned into the pillow, trying to stay quiet even though no one was home to hear. Hunter kept fucking her through it, then pulled out, flipped her onto her stomach, and dragged her hips up.

He entered her from behind in one hard push and started pounding her properly. One hand stayed on her hip; the other reached under and rubbed her clit in tight, relentless circles.

“That’s it,”

he growled. 

“Take it. Take your son’s bully’s dick in your marriage bed while your whole family’s gone.😭🍑”

Rachel came again, harder, legs shaking. Hunter followed a minute later, burying himself deep and emptying inside her with a low, gritted groan.

They stayed locked together for several seconds, both breathing hard.

Eventually he pulled out. Come immediately began to leak down the inside of her thigh.

Hunter rolled onto his back beside her, one arm behind his head, looking completely satisfied.

Rachel lay there staring at the ceiling, the lace cover-up still on the floor, her body still pulsing, the silence of the empty house pressing in from every direction.

Hunter reached over and lazily traced a finger through the mess between her legs.

“Three whole days,😎😏”

 he said quietly. 

“You really think you’re gonna spend them alone?😈🍆”

Rachel didn’t answer.

She already knew she wouldn’t.

To be continue…