The day after: An apocalyptic morning

by Jessy Cruise

  "Having fun I see," Christine said lightly as she set the candle down on the nightstand.

  "That's what it's all about," Skip agreed. "Did you get the guard problem taken care of?"

  "Oh yes," she said, unclipping her belt and sliding the holstered gun free. "I warned them all that they were the test case for resumption of coed teams on guard duty and that they should behave appropriately. I think they got the message."

  "Hopefully," Skip said. "It would sure make staffing a lot easier if we could put men and women together without having to worry about them being distracted."

  "You're telling me," said Christine, who did all of the staffing.

  "Uh, is there any chance," said Paula, who was flushed and panting, "that we can continue this discussion at a later time? I was kind of in the middle of something here."

  "Sorry, Shelly," Christine said with a grin. "Skip, get back to work."

  He went back to work, dropping his head into her crotch once again and lapping away. Christine went to the bathroom and relieved her bladder and then walked back into the bedroom just in time to see Paula starting to raise and lower her hips with impending orgasm. She watched them as she took off her jeans and panties, feeling her own juices starting to flow as they always did at such times. She could not resist running the back of her hand across her wet pussy lips as she reached for the hem of her shirt.

  "You can play with yourself if you want," Paula, who had been watching her, said breathlessly.

  "What?" Christine said with a start, pausing with her shirt halfway up.

  "It's okay," Paula said. "It's... ohhhh..." she squealed as Skip gave her a particularly pleasurable suck on the clitoris, "... it's sexy."

  Christine felt herself blushing again but she also felt a renewed gush of moisture in her sex at the thought. Sure, it was nasty but hadn't Paula told her before that married people were sometimes nasty in front of each other? Wasn't that part of what made a successful sex life?

  "Come on, Christine," Paula breathed, patting the bed next to her. "You know you want to."

  She did want to, was barely restraining herself as it was. She quickly pulled off her shirt, tossing it to the floor, and then unclipped the white bra she was wearing, letting it fall as well. She sat down on the bed with her legs spread widely, facing Paula's supine body, close enough to see Skip's tongue stabbing in and out of those wet folds. The smell of aroused vaginal secretions hit her nose and her hand dropped between her legs, her fingers probing at her own wetness. She began to rub, her eyes peeled to the junction of mouth and vagina.

  "Oh God, that is such a turn on," Paula panted excitedly, her head turned, her eyes looking directly at Christine's pussy. "You put yourself there on purpose, didn't you? You nasty girl."

  Christine didn't say anything. She just smiled and kept rubbing, feeling the waves of pleasure spreading out in her lower stomach. She shoved two fingers inside of herself for a moment. They came out glistening with moisture.

  "Oh God," Paula groaned, her hips rising and falling rapidly now. "Oh, Christine that's... oh Skip... ohhhh... ohhhh!" She screamed as she came, her hands gripping the sheet on the bed hard enough to pull it loose at the corners.

  Skip raised his wet face from her crotch after giving her one last loving lick. He had been watching Christine's antics as well as he had been ministering to Paula and he was incredibly turned on. Watching women masturbate had always held an erotic fascination for him. Watching a woman masturbate while she watched him eat out another woman was completely off the scale. "Does Christine need a little kiss too?" he asked her, reaching out with his hand to stroke her soft leg.

  "Not just yet," she said, taking his hand and putting it back on Paula. "Fuck her first. I want to play with myself while you fuck her."

  "Yes," Paula said, her eyes glazed with lust. "Fuck me while she watches."

  Skip slid up Paula's body, grabbing her legs and pushing them back as he went. This opened her up widely, obscenely for Christine's viewing pleasure. His cock was about as hard as it was possible to get and her pussy was about as wet as it was possible to get. As such he was able to slide inside of her in one stroke, sinking until his pubic hair met hers. He began to thrust in and out, not bothering with a slow build up. As he moved within her he kept his head elevated and his back straight, using her thighs for leverage.

  While Paula moaned in pleasure her eyes never left Christine's crotch. She watched those fingers move around and around through that light blonde hair, watched them dip in and out of her chasm itself. She put her hand on Christine's leg, near the knee, and began to stroke back and forth, marveling at the sexy softness of female flesh. When Christine made no protest at the touch, she began to move her hand higher.

  Christine felt the intruding hand as it crept higher up her leg, as it inched across her inner thigh, and her fingers began to move faster. She felt the same pang of guilt and shame that she had felt that night in the bathing room but the sense of arousal and excitement was easily enough to override it. The nastiness of being touched by Paula, of knowing where Paula's hand was heading, the forbiddeness of the act, was what made it so appealing. "Put them in me," she whispered to her co-wife. "Help me come."

  Paula slid her hand across the inner thigh and to the wet junction where Christine's fingers were rubbing. She touched the soggy hairs around her lips and then ran her fingertips over the swollen membranes, feeling their slippery texture, their warmth. Using two fingers she penetrated her, pushing into the tightness, feeling her co-wife's body clutch greedily at her. Christine moaned loudly at the intrusion and began to rub her clit harder.

  Paula had never done such a thing before but she knew exactly what would feel good. She began to push and pull, twisting her hand a little as she fingerfucked her, putting pressure on the top of the vagina, where the clitoral nerves ran. It didn't take long before Christine's juices were saturating her hand and starting to run down her wrist.

  "Oh, Shellie," Christine moaned, her pelvis starting to thrust now. "That feels so good."

  "Yes," Paula panted, her own hips thrusting against Skip's cock. "It feels beautiful."

  Skip watched all of this excitedly, nearly blasting his load prematurely as he saw Paula fingering the younger woman's blonde pussy. As before in the bathing area, he could not believe that this was actually happening to him. He was really participating in a threesome with two beautiful women; something that he had decided long ago was a myth. And he was really watching lesbian activity take place between the two women, activity that was not faked for his benefit but was actually spontaneous and full of passion.

  " Christine," Paula grunted after a few minutes. "Sit on my face, baby."

  "What?" Christine said, shocked and excited at the same time. Had she heard her correctly?

  "Sit on my face," Paula repeated with a desperate moan. "I want to eat your pussy. Please... let me eat you, baby. Let me taste you."

  "Oh God," Christine said with a shudder. Without pausing to consider the ramifications of her actions, she raised herself up and hiked one of her legs over Paula's body, bringing her dripping sex directly over her face, her body facing towards Skip.

  "Bring it down, baby," Paula moaned, seeing it above her. She reached up and grabbed Christine's hips and began to pull. "Don't tease me with it."

  Slowly Christine lowered herself onto Paula's mouth, feeling the wet contact of her tongue suddenly licking at her in her most sensitive, most secret place. It was a woman doing that to her, her mind screamed at her. A woman. And it felt so sexy, so shamefully nasty. "Oh, Shellie," she said with a moan of sheer pleasure. "Ohhhh..."

  Again, though she had never done anything of the sort before, Paula knew exactly where to lick and how much pressure to lick with. She used broad strokes of her tongue at first, lapping from the bottom of that tangy slit to the top and making a brief circle around the engorged clit before doing it all over. She relished the flavorful bite of Christine's juices. She had smelled Christine in arousal
many times and she had tasted her own secretions clinging to the face of lovers many times, but this was her first actual taste of another woman. It was very similar to her own taste while being strikingly different at the same time. She loved it, loved the depravity of what she was doing. She was eating Christine's pussy! She longed to feel her coming on her mouth.

  Skip, meanwhile, was exhibiting an almost superhuman strength just to keep from coming. The sight of Christine rubbing herself over Paula's face, of Paula's tongue running between those pink lips, licking at that clit, was driving him nearly crazy. His cock continued to pound in and out Paula's body wetly. He took his hands from Paula's thighs and leaned forward, putting them on Christine's waist. His mouth found her breast and began to suckle it.

  "Ohhhh," Christine cried as she felt Skip sucking her nipple. Her mind went into an overload of sheer pleasure at the feeling of two mouths attacking her erogenous zones at the same time. While Skip switched back and forth from nipple to nipple, Paula began concentrating upon her clitoris, licking it and sucking it, bringing her closer and closer to an inevitable climax.

  "My ass, Skip," Paula grunted, taking her mouth off of Christine just long enough to spit these words out. "Put it in my ass!"

  Skip reluctantly broke contact with Christine's breasts for a moment and leaned backward. He pushed Paula's legs further apart, widening them as far as was anatomically possible, and pulled his dripping cock from her chasm. He pushed it down, sliding the head into the slippery valley where her ass started, towards the puckered ring of her anus. Paula loved anal sex, especially during the height of arousal after being fucked in the traditional fashion. He put the head right against her smaller opening and then pushed a little. She was well lubricated from the juices that had run down there and the first two inches slid inside easily, making her grunt from around Christine's clit. He began to push and pull in and out of her ass, slowly at first, going a little bit deeper with each stroke. Soon, very soon since she was used to this sort of thing, he was buried to the hilt within her and able to thrust normally. As she grunted and groaned from the pleasurable intrusion, he leaned forward again, going back after Christine's breasts.

  Christine, on the verge of orgasm, was nonetheless fascinated by what she had just seen. She had heard Skip and Paula make several allusions to anal sex in the past but she had never actually seen them do it. How had that thing fit in her like that? Wasn't it painful? Though it looked like Skip was about to split her open, it was obvious from the enthusiastic way that Paula was attacking her clit that she was not having an unpleasant time of it. As Skip started sucking on her tits again, tonguing the nipples, she found herself craning her head to look below his body and watch him go in and out. Paula's pussy now looked so lonely, sitting there all by itself, its lips swollen and dripping, the clit standing up at attention from its hood. She took her hand, which had been resting on Skip's head, and reached for that pussy, wanting to touch it, wanting to caress it. Her fingers found the folds and she began to rub, pleasuring her co-wife's body the same way she pleasured her own.

  Skip came first. When he felt the back of Christine's hand against his lower stomach and looked down to see her masturbating Paula's pussy, the circuit breaker in his head finally tripped, falling to a smoking mess. He grunted and began to shoot a huge load of sperm into Paula's bowels, the waves of pleasure so strong that he almost fell over.

  Paula, feeling the indescribable sensation of Skip ejaculating into her ass coupled with the feminine touch of Christine's hand upon her clit, was the next to go. Her second orgasm of the night rattled through her, making her cry out loudly against the wetness on her mouth.

  Though Christine was the last to come, she experienced perhaps the most powerful orgasm, its energy released after a long build-up. While Paula attacked her clit in earnest Skip began kissing her neck and shoulders, placing soft bites upon her skin while his hands fondled her boobs. So strong was the pleasure that hit her that her body spasmed violently, her pelvis bouncing up and down on Paula's face hard enough to hurt her.

  They fell to the bed in a heap, Paula in the middle, Christine and Skip to the sides. Unable to help herself, Christine began to kiss her co-wife on the mouth tenderly, running her tongue inside and tasting her own juices clinging to her. Paula kissed back, putting her arm around Christine's back, letting her tongue slide into the other woman's mouth. Skip, not to be left out, pushed his face in there with them, inserting his own tongue from the side, licking at their lips. Soon all three tongues were dueling back and forth, exchanging playful licks.

  "That was incredible," Paula said at last, after the kissing died out. "I have never had an experience as erotic, as sexy as that."

  "I must say," Skip agreed, running his hand from one female body to the other, "that it wasn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

  Christine, still tingling a little from the aftereffects of her orgasm, looked at both of them. "That was very nasty what we just did," she said softly. "But God help me, I loved every second of it. I can't believe you ate me, Shelly. That was so kinky."

  "I was so turned on looking at you and touching you that I had to do it," Paula said, her finger playing with Christine's left nipple, which was still hard. "That was the first time in my life that I put my mouth on another woman, but it was so natural. And you tasted so good, baby. I want to do that again sometime. I can't believe I've gone my whole life without it. Did I do a good job?"

  "You did a great job," Christine said. "You're even better than Skip, and you know how good he is."

  "I'll choose not to be offended by that statement," Skip said.

  "I'm a woman," Paula said. "I know what feels really good on me so I just did it to you. I'll bet you could do the same to me," she said hopefully.

  Christine blushed, embarrassed again. "Probably," she said apologetically. "But I'm not quite ready for that yet. I'm sorry."

  "It's okay, baby," Paula said, kissing her on the lips. "You move at your own pace. I won't push you to do anything you don't want to."

  "I know," Christine said, kissing her back.

  "But in the meantime," Paula said, "I could use a little more practice on my technique." She shifted her position a little and began to tongue Christine's nipple. "You don't mind that, do you?"

  "Not at all," Christine sighed, closing her eyes and letting the sensation take her away.

  "Aircraft approaching from the east!" came the frantic cry from Stu, whose squad was handling rear guard for this second morning of the march back to Auburn. His radio was broadcasting his words even as he and his men were diving into cover alongside the roadway.

  "Cover, everyone," Bracken yelled into the command channel. "Cover! Don't let them see us!"

  It was a frantic ten seconds but every last one of the one hundred and sixty men and the single female that was being escorted along by second squad of fourth platoon, managed to get into the trees or brush before the black and white helicopter came close enough to see them.

  Bracken watched it through binoculars as it approached. It was the old CHP helicopter, just as the bitch from Garden Hill had told them. It was flying a little over two thousand feet above the ground, well out of range of accurate small arms fire, and moving at about eighty knots or so. Apparently this Skip character, the only one who knew how to fly it, was following the Interstate, using it as a navigational reference to wherever he was going.

  "That thing is quiet," observed Lieutenant Collier, who was crouching next to Bracken and looking through a set of his own binoculars. "It passed right over the top of us and I didn't even hear it."

  "It's got that super quiet rotor system," Bracken said, continuing to watch as it disappeared to the west, fading into the mist of rain. "I remember reading about it in the paper when the CHP first bought that thing a few years ago. It doesn't have a tail rotor so it doesn't make the noise that a normal helicopter does. Cops like it because it helps them sneak up on people and keeps down the noise complaints from ci
tizens."

  "Where do you think he's going?" Collier asked.

  "I don't know," Bracken said worriedly. "Maybe a little recon mission. If he hasn't already done so, we'll have to assume that he's going to check out Auburn and all the other towns around here, looking for supplies and food and so forth."

  "Maybe he'll land in Auburn," Collier suggested. "Wouldn't that be nice? We could take him real painlessly that way."

  Bracken shook his head. "I don't think he's that dumb," he said.

  "About two minutes," Jack said over the intercom to Mick and Paul, who were sitting in the back of the helicopter. With the help of Tim Harding, the former PG&E electrician, headsets had been fashioned and hooked into the system allowing communication between those in the front and those in the back. This was particularly useful on this mission since the right side door had been removed, an action that would make their task much easier to accomplish when the time came but which more than doubled the noise level.

  The two men looked at each other nervously, both of them taking a few deep breaths to try to calm down. "Got ya," Mick replied into his mouthpiece, giving a weak thumbs up. They were both adorned with rope harnesses that Paul had assembled from the vertical rescue inventory on the fire engine. They had packs full of breaking and entering tools upon their backs and rifles over their shoulders. Both of them carried a portable radio set to the helicopter's direct frequency. They sat shoulder to shoulder against the port wall of the cargo area, as far away from the missing door as they could get, looking out at the scenery passing below.

  "How are you doing, Mick?" Paul asked his companion as Skip started to descend towards the train cars on the hillside.

  "I'm not sure," he said, "but I don't believe that I've ever been this scared in my life. Not even when I was in the middle of that shooting match with those invaders did I have this much adrenaline pumping through me."

  "I know the feeling," Paul said with terrified sympathy. "I hate just being up in this helicopter at all. It scares the crap out of me. Now I'm going to have to jump out of the fucking thing and go down a rope from a hundred feet in the air. I'm telling you, there better be something down there we can use or I'm gonna be one pissed off individual."