The day after: An apocalyptic morning
Page 19
"You like that, don't you?" she asked softly, applying a little more pressure and moving her feet just a little faster. "You never had a foot job before?"
"Uhhh," he groaned, still trying to resist her.
"I could make you come like this you know," she said, increasing the tempo, forcing him to raise his hips up to her. "I could make you shoot all over my feet if I wanted to."
"Missy," he moaned. "Please?"
Her foot action continued, the water in the tub starting to ripple with the motion now. "But I wouldn't do that," she said, the action slowing a bit. "That would be an awful waste of a good load of come, wouldn't it?" She let her feet come to a halt, ending the sensation for him.
He groaned again at the sudden cessation. Unable to help himself, he plunged his hands in the water and grabbed her feet, forcing them to start moving on his cock once again.
"Well, well," she said, smiling wickedly, her own hands dropping to his legs. "I thought you didn't want to do anything in here. I though we were just taking a bath. Could it be that you're starting to get a little interested?"
"Ohh god," he moaned, continuing to force her feet against him. His hips moved up and down, driving him in and out.
She suddenly jerked her feet away from him, breaking the contact. He tried to grab them and bring them back but she was too fast. "You don't want to come on my feet," she told him, sitting up in the water and showing him her soapy breasts. "You want to come in my pussy. Don't you?"
"Missy," he said, his voice choked, his body trembling, his mind pulling him in several directions at once.
"Don't you?" she asked again, her hands sliding up and down his legs sensuously.
"Yes," he said, giving fully in. He wanted her. He had to have her. Christine huddled in her lean-to didn't Micker at that moment. He needed Missy like he needed air.
"Tell me what you want to do," she said, continuing to rub his legs, her hands going higher and higher up his thighs with each repetition. "Tell me."
"I want to fuck you," he said, sitting up and grabbing for her. "I'm going to fuck you."
"Oh yes," she said, bringing her own hands up and putting them around his neck. "Do it to me, Skip. Fuck me good. I need it too."
He pulled her over the top of his legs, his hands going to her firm ass, his mouth mashing against hers. Their tongues stabbed out and connected, plunging together passionately. She continued to move forward atop his legs, until her small breasts were pushing against him, until he felt her ass nestled against his thighs. Their bodies slid together on a slick film of hot soapy water. Her hands left his neck and reached beneath the water, grabbing his prick. She stroked it up and down.
"So nice," she said, breaking the kiss and attacking his earlobes. "So hard."
"Yes," he said, his fingers digging into the firm flesh of her ass cheeks, squeezing it nearly hard enough to hurt her. She didn't seem to mind. In fact, her moans encouraged him to squeeze even harder.
She continued to squirm forward on him until he felt the head of his dick dragging through hair. She shifted her hips a little more, adjusting him with her hands until it was rubbing against slippery lips.
"Oh, you can't believe how much I've wanted a dick in me," she said. "Let's do it!"
"Yeah," he agreed. He lifted up on her ass, positioning her opening against him. He then pulled her down, forcing his dick into her lips, plunging himself inside of her in one smooth stroke. She was not as tight as Christine was but she was experienced. He felt it in the knowing way she clenched him, in the way she drove herself downward to meet him. It was an almost violent thrust, not for the faint of heart. And the pleasure that it sent radiating through him was almost more than he could bear.
"Ohhhh," he groaned, feeling the penetration.
"Yesss, oh fuck the shit out of me!" she agreed, her hands going back around him.
He began to thrust up and down, not bothering with a slow build-up, just rutting at her like an animal. She responded in turn, forcing her hips downward to meet each of his strokes. Waves of sheer pleasure radiated outward from his cock as he plowed into her. Water, churned up by their motion, splashed over the side, turning the area under the tub into a slippery, soapy puddle. His hands moved from her ass to her slippery tits, each breast fitting neatly into a hand, the nipples pushing into his palms. She pushed her chest forcefully into him, squirming her shoulders back and forth to increase the friction. He craned his head downward, taking her right nipple into his mouth. He sucked it between his lips, biting at it with his teeth.
"Oh yesss," she moaned, her hips moving faster, her hand pulling him against her. "Suck my titties, suck them!"
He continued to suck at that nipple until it was blood red and hard as a rock. He then switched to the other one, giving it the same treatment. Through it all his hips kept rising and falling, pushing and pulling, slamming his cock into her body like a piston. She loved every second of it, every thrust, ever motion of his lips and tongue against her. Her hands clawed at his back, twined through his hair, squeezed his ass.
When she came, she slammed her pelvis down onto him so hard that he bounced upward. Her fingernails dug into his back and her tongue slammed down his throat so far that he almost gagged. She moaned into his mouth as she fucked up and down, as water splashed out of the tub by the gallon.
He sucked at her tongue obscenely, taking over the job of thrusting as her orgasm faded away. He powered up and down in her and her muscles continued to clench and unclench rhythmically, gripping and ungripping him. He ground himself forcefully into her with each movement, his pubic hair abrading against hers beneath the water. Soon, too soon, he felt the spasms start. His thrusts became more powerful, less controlled.
Missy, sensing the change, began to suck on his shoulder, licking and biting at it. "Yes," she breathed, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Come in my pussy! Give it to me!"
"Uhhhhh," he grunted, as the waves of pleasure began, as the machinery of orgasm kicked into maximum overdrive. The sensation climbed and climbed and finally peaked in a pinnacle of pleasure. The first jet shot from his driving member, splashing forcefully against her insides.
"Yesssss!" she cried, feeling it. "Oh yessss!"
He continued to plaster her insides with his seed. Her vaginal muscles gripped hungrily at him, drawing every last drop from his body. Her channel was suddenly a lot slipperier as his semen was added to her juices. When the last spurt was finally shot, when the last tingling of pleasure started to fade, she continued to grind herself atop him while they kissed passionately.
"Oh god," she told him, kissing his lips and licking at them. "You can't imagine how good that felt. It's been sooooo long."
"I can imagine," he panted, feeling sweat running down his face. His hands continued to run up and down her soapy back, caressing the silky skin.
"You're pretty good at this," she said, giving him one more little grind atop his wilting cock.
"Thanks," he said, glowing from the aftereffects of orgasm but already starting to feel the first tinges of regret at what he had done.
"Yes," said a female voice from the entrance to the locker room. It was not an amused voice. "That was a very impressive performance indeed."
With a start they both looked at the doorway. Standing there were Paul and Jessica, their eyes glaring at the two lovers. Both of them had pistols in their hands.
Part 4
"Missy, get the hell out of that bathtub right now!" Paul yelled at her angrily.
"All right, all right," she said, pulling herself off of Skip, her voice far from regretful. She stood, unashamed before Paul and Jessica, stepping down and heading for the towel rack.
"Are you okay Honey?" Jessica asked her gently, her gun pointing at Skip.
"Okay?" she said, grabbing one of the towels and starting to pat herself dry. "Of course I'm okay."
"Thank God for that," Jessica said, continuing to glare at Skip. "How dare you abuse our hospitality like that," she accused. "We inv
ite you into our town, feed you, allow you to bathe and you repay us by attacking the girl who was guarding you?"
"Attacking?" he said, raising his eyebrows.
"How else did she get into that tub with you?" Jessica asked. "And just what happened to Hector?"
"Christ almighty," Paul said, shaking his head sadly. He put his gun back in its holster and then turned to Jessica. "Jess," he said, "I don't think Skip attacked Missy, did he Missy?"
"No," she admitted without shame. "It was actually more the other way around." She bent over to dry her legs.
"You attacked him?" Jessica asked in disbelief.
She shrugged. "He has a nice ass," she said. "And I was horny. What's wrong with having a little fun?"
"What's wrong with it," Paul said, "is that you were supposed to be guarding him. What if he was dangerous? What if he had attacked you? Nice ass or not, we don't know this man! Anything could have happened, anything! For Christ's sake, Missy, he is in the building that we store our goddamn food and ammunition in!"
"Sorry," she said softly, her eyes downcast now.
"Sorry," Paul repeated, mocking her. "And just where is Hector, your partner in this guard detail?"
"I'd rather not say," she replied. "He's all right though."
Paul buried his face in his hands for a moment and took a few deep breaths. When he looked up he noticed that Jessica was still pointing her gun at Skip, murder in her eyes. "Jessica, would put that freaking gun away before you accidentally shoot something with it?"
"Put it away?" she asked. "What about him?"
"What about him?" he returned. "At least this proves he wasn't trying to attack us from the inside, doesn't it?"
"It doesn't prove anything except that he's an animal willing to come in here and take advantage of our hospitality by..."
"Oh please," Paul said, cutting her off. "I hardly think it makes him an animal because he responded to the seduction of a beautiful woman after he's been out in the wilderness for two weeks."
"Do you really think I'm beautiful, Paul?" Missy asked, beaming, immediately interested.
"Shit," Paul muttered. He turned to Skip. "Are you about done with your bath now?"
"Uh... yeah," he said. "Look, I'm really sorry about all of this. The last thing I wanted to do was..."
"Don't sweat it," Paul told him. "Just get out and get your clothes on. We'll get you a bed set up in one of the rooms."
"You're not going to let him stay here after what just happened, are you?" Jessica asked.
"I don't see how this changes anything," Paul replied. "You know as well as I do that what just happened is far from unusual in this town these days. I probably should've known better than to have Missy guard him. I should've found two of the men. But then I probably would've had both of them run off to screw someone and Skip would've been free to wander around at will. At least this way someone was with him."
"I don't think we need to discuss town business in front of him," Jessica whispered, although loudly enough for Skip to hear. "Especially not... you know?"
"He already knows about it," Paul said. "I filled him in earlier on the various games that are played here."
"You did what?" she asked, horrified.
Paul ignored her. "Now you see what I mean, right?" he asked Skip, smiling a little.
Skip smiled back hesitantly. "A very graphic lesson," he agreed.
"Sorry we came rushing in here with guns," he said. "We heard moaning and splashing coming from in here and we thought that maybe... well..."
"That I was hurting her?"
"Yeah."
"I didn't realize we were so loud," Missy said, embarrassed now.
"Nobody ever does," Paul said. "Nobody ever does. Get yourself dressed, Missy and then I'd like to have a word with you in the office."
"Okay," she said, dropping her towel and grabbing her clothes. She began to put them on.
"Jess," he said, turning to her, "can you go get Jeff from the front and have him take over watching Skip for us?"
"You want me to do that?" she asked with distaste, as if she was being asked to gut a fish or slaughter a chicken.
"Yes, please," he said, just a hint of sarcasm tinting his words. "If it's not too much trouble that is?"
"I don't like the way you've been talking to me tonight," Jessica practically hissed at him. "You seem to have forgotten what your place in this town is. Remember..."
"I wasn't a resident," he said before she could. "I know. You've only told me that a hundred times or so. And as for forgetting my place, I think that it's the opposite that's happening here. I think I'm just starting to realize my place as well as your place."
"Are you threatening me?" she said, taking a step closer. "Because if you are, you'll be out of here so fast..."
"Take it for what you want, Jess," Paul told her, standing his ground. "We've already been over this once tonight, haven't we? Now, if you're finished, would you please go get Jeff so we can make sure that Skip doesn't find himself in any more mischief tonight?"
"I am far from finished," she said angrily. "We will talk about this some more."
"Fine, let's just do it later, okay? It's been a hell of a long night and we have a lot of people to talk to tomorrow."
"You're overstepping your bounds," she warned, pointing a finger at him. "And you'd better check yourself." This statement might have had a little more dramatic effect had she not then turned and headed off to do exactly what she'd been told to do.
"Fuckin' bitch," Missy, who was now completely clothed again, muttered once she was gone.
"Enough of that," Paul told her wearily. "I'll see you in my office, Missy."
"Sure," she said, sulking to the door. Before she went out she shot an affectionate look at Skip. "See you later," she told him.
He gave no acknowledgment to her and a moment later she disappeared. Once she was gone he looked at Paul. "Sorry about all this," he told him. "I seemed to have created some power struggles for you."
"Nothing to be sorry about," Paul said. "I'm kind of glad that all this happened tonight. Jessica and Dale need to be taken down a few notches and this struggle over you has given me the means to do it."
"I see," he said. "Will this incident with Missy affect how people feel about me staying?"
"No, not in the least. Trust me on this. You'll be voted in as long as I'm with Jessica when the story about you gets told. You're a man in a town where men are scarce. You'd have to be Ted Bundy before these women would vote to exclude you. If nothing else, the rumor about what happened here tonight will strengthen your case. After all, they'll know you can be seduced, right? That's the best thing you can say about a man in this town."
"That's good to know," he said.
"Don't be so happy about us accepting you though," Paul warned. "Once you're a member of this community, I'm going to move to put you in charge of defense and training. And then you can be the one who deals with all of this guard duty crap. I imagine it will be the toughest job you'll ever have."
"So I hear you bagged Missy," Jeff, the nineteen-year-old guard that he had first encountered at the front entrance, asked him with a shrewd smile. He seemed to have put his hostile feelings aside. "How was she? She was one of the virgins but I was thinking about maybe giving her a try." They were walking down the hallway of the community center, Jeff in the rear, lighting the way with a flashlight.
"Virgins?" Skip asked, raising his eyebrows a tad. Missy certainly had not been a virgin.
"You know," he said, "it means none of the guys have tapped her yet. Nobody's worked their way around to her yet. So was it worth it?"
"Jesus," Skip muttered. "I'd rather not say. I prefer to keep my experiences to myself."
"Bummer, dude," Jeff said sadly. "But I can get down with that, you know? That's the same thing Paul and Mick do. They don't say shit. Sometimes I think they're out there getting more pussy than anybody." They arrived at a small storage room near the back of the building. "Here
's your suite. Sorry it ain't much." He shined the flashlight inside, allowing Skip to have a look at it.
It was pretty much a case of what you see is what you get. It was a windowless room with only one door. About ten feet by ten feet, the floor was covered with the same industrial carpet that covered the rest of the building. There was a rollaway bed of the sort usually found in motels set up in the corner. A neatly folded stack of linen sat atop it. On a small table next to the cot was a candle, unlit, with a pack of matches next to it. Skip walked inside and picked up the matches, lighting the candle and allowing Jeff to douse the flashlight.
"So, dude, you were like a cop and all, right?" Jeff asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his flannel shirt.
"That's right," Skip told him, picking up the stack of linen. It was soft, dry, and smelled faintly of laundry soap. Clean linen! Amazing. He began to unfold it and place it on the bed. He would get to sleep in a real bed.
"Well," Jeff said, "even though you were a cop, I guess it's only polite to ask. I'm not a Bogart you know?"
"What are you talking about?" Skip asked, looking over at him.
"You wanna burn one with me?" he asked, holding up a tightly rolled joint. "It's good shit."
"You want to smoke a joint with me? The man you're supposed to be guarding?"
"Hell yeah," he said, putting the joint in his mouth and pulling out a disposable lighter. "I ain't never smoked out with no cop before. It'll be the bomb." He lit it, taking a large hit and filling the room with the pungent smell of marijuana.
"My work is going to be cut out for me here, I can see that."
"So what do you say?" Jeff squeaked, speaking and holding his breath at the same time. "Wanna get loaded?"
"What the hell?" Skip said, reaching out and taking the joint. "I guess they can't fire me now, can they?"
"You the man," Jeff squeaked, grinning at him.
Though he had not smoked any since his high school days, it really was like riding a bicycle. He put the smoldering joint between his lips and sucked, drawing a medium hit into his lungs. "This is some good shit," he squeaked back as he handed the joint back to Jeff. "Where'd you get it?"