The day after: An apocalyptic morning (26 page)

              "My husband used to think these were too small," she said, cupping them for a moment with her hands. "He always used to nag me to go get a boob job but I was always scared to do that. All the horror stories about implants, you know. What do you think?"

              "They're very nice," he said shortly, his voice wavering. He could not keep his eyes off of them.

              "Very nice," she repeated, mocking his tone. "You really know how to sweet talk a girl, you know that?"

              He said nothing, just continued to watch as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down her hips. Her bush was very hairy and very black, hiding everything beneath it. She rectified this by sliding her fingers into it and spreading open her lips, allowing him to see her pink membranes.

              "I seem to be kind of wet down there," she said, as if puzzled. "Isn't that weird?" She kicked the panties off and began to walk to the tub, her eyes locked on his face.

              "Missy, we can't do this. I don't want to," he said, making a last ditch effort to dissuade her.

              She mounted the step, looking down at him. "We're not going to do anything," she said teasingly. "I'm just going to take a bath, remember?" With that she swung her leg over the edge, preparing to step in. This opened her crotch up to Skip's inspection from less than two feet away. Her lips were swollen and reddened, moisture glinting off of them. He even caught a brief glimpse of her clit before she stepped in and hid the view. It was protruding from its hood and ready for action.

              Skip growled a little in the back of his throat, partially in desire, partially in frustration.

              She eased into the tub, sitting down in the water directly opposite from where he reclined. "Ahhhhh," she moaned, letting herself lean back against the edge, her legs stretching out before her. Skip felt her feet contact his and then her legs slide over the top of his. He jumped a little at her touch. "What's the Micker?" she asked. "You don't expect me to keep my legs all curled up beneath me, do you? I have to relax a little."

              Her legs continued to move forward until the backs of her thighs were resting firmly on his ankles. Her skin was hot and very smooth against him and his hand stroked a little faster on his erection. He felt the cheeks of her ass lightly touching his toes beneath the water. When he tried to pull back to break the contact, she scooted down further in the water, maintaining it.

              "Now isn't this nice?" she sighed, putting her arms on the edge of the tub, everything but her face and neck beneath the bubbles.

              "Yeah," he breathed through clenched teeth. He finally realized that his hand was grasping his cock and he removed it, putting his own arms to the side. "Are we ready to get out now?"

              "Not even close," she said, squirming a little closer to him. "I haven't even begun to relax yet."

              "Great," he said, trembling a little. He thought of Christine, who was out on the other side of the bridge, huddling alone in a lean-to in the rain while he was warm and safe in a hot bath with a beautiful woman trying to seduce him. Guilt added itself to his emotions, putting them into even more of turmoil.

              "There's just nothing like a hot bath," Missy said, her legs moving a little on his, sliding back and forth with an unbearable softness. "Everything else in the world is gone but at least we still have this, right?"

              "Right," he squeaked, knowing that the "this" she was talking about was not the bath.

              He felt her legs sliding together, felt her feet moving over his ribcage. Suddenly, before he realized it was happening, his dick was being grasped from both sides by the bottom of her feet. He jumped a little, trying to pull himself away, but she gripped him strongly, her legs holding him down.

              "Now what's this?" she said, rubbing her feet up and down a few times. "It seems that somebody in this tub has a little problem."

              He could not help but groan at the pressure. Never had a woman done what she was doing to him. He had never imagined that feet could feel so good on his manhood.

              "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 invite 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?"