The day after: An apocalyptic morning (45 page)

              He nodded, his mouth too dry for him to speak. He opened the bottle up, flipping the lid back on its plastic hinge by pushing upward with his thumb. This revealed a small hole through which the oil could be squirted. He upended the bottle over her stomach, right above the belly button, and gave a squeeze. This propelled a generous amount of the mineral oil onto her flesh. It puddled up and began to run quickly down the sides of her tummy, towards the couch. She giggled a little at the contact.

              He moved his shaking hand to her stomach and put it right in the middle of the oil puddle he had created. He began to rub in circles, sliding his digits over her skin, smearing the oil all over her. The oil quickly heated up from the radiant warmth of his hand and her stomach and she sighed a little, closing her eyes and leaning backwards against the couch. The feel of that slippery, oily flesh against his hand was perhaps the most erotic sensation he had ever experienced. Her stomach was very tight and hot, almost frictionless as his circles became wider and wider.

              "Ohhhh," Stacy moaned with a pleased giggle. "This feels soooo much better when you do it."

              "Does it?" he croaked.

              "It's the bomb," she assured him. "Be sure to get the sides."

              He continued to rub and caress her skin, even going so far as to dump some of the oil into his other hand so he could use both of them. Soon the entire mass of her pregnant stomach was coated and glistening in the candlelight. His penis was, by then, so turgid within his pants that he was forced to shift back and forth uncomfortably trying to adjust it.

              "How's that?" he asked her after about five minutes. Though he did not want to stop what he was doing he figured that her tummy was now very well oiled up.

              She opened her eyes for a moment and looked at him. "A little bit more," she told him with a contented smile. "Be sure to get the tops and the bottom." With that she reached up and pulled her pajama top even higher. He gasped a little as he realized that he could see the bottom of her breasts protruding from beneath the silk. It was just a hint of swelling, pale flesh but it was undoubtedly her tits - her tits - he was seeing. And then she moved her hands lower, grasping the waist of her bottoms. These she pushed downward, just a hint, revealing even more of her lower stomach far below where the bulge of her uterus stopped. Peeking from just above the waistband he was now able to see a narrow strip of bright red hair, very curly and very sparse, peeking out. That was her pubic hair, he realized. He was seeing the top of her bush!

              He hesitated for a second, his mind whirring in confusion as it tried to process what she was doing. Did she realize that she was showing him the bottom of her tits? The top of her bush? Did she have any idea at all? And if she did, why was she doing it? Was she trying to tease him? Or was she trying to seduce him?

              "What's the hold-up?" she asked softly, picking up the bottle of oil and handing it to him. "I can feel stretch marks forming as we speak."

              "Sorry," he said, taking the bottle. He squirted a little bit on her lower stomach and a little bit more on her upper. He began to rub again, spreading the slippery warmth towards her most private regions.

              She closed her eyes again, leaning back against the couch as he worked on her. His own eyes kept darting between that small patch of fiery red fuzz poking out of her bottoms and those two bits of pale pink swelling peeking out from the tops. His hands moved in wider and wider circles, his right hand moving upward with each rotation, his left hand moving downward. His erection was now throbbing almost painfully in his pants, bulging outward with enough pressure to make a noticeable lump beneath the button-fly. He noticed that her nipples were hard, their shapes pushing against the material of her top. Her breathing was also quicker than it had been a few minutes before. Did that mean anything? Or was it just a coincidence?

              Soon, the arcs of the circles he was making as he rubbed in the oil increased to the point that he was almost brushing against her clothing. His left hand began to slide along the patch of hair at the downward limit of its exploration and his right hand began to slide along the soft swelling of her tits. He watched her face as he made the first few contacts, expecting her eyes to fly open and her hands to slap his away from her. Instead, she only sighed and sank deeper into the couch, her body squirming back and forth a little bit under his touch.

              Suddenly, her hands were in motion, moving almost before he registered it. They grabbed at the buttons on her top, undoing them one by one. Her eyes opened up and looked at him. When the last button was released she pulled open the top, baring her breasts to his view. They were swollen and tight, about the size of softballs, the nipples huge and engorged with blood. This was Jack's first view of bare female breasts that did not belong to either Christine or his mother (he had once accidentally walked in on his mom in the bathroom about a year before the comet). He thought that they were, hands down, the most beautiful, feminine things that he had ever had the privilege of casting his eyes upon.

              "Put some oil on them," Stacy said breathlessly.

              "You mean..." he croaked, almost shooting off in his pants.

              "Touch them," she said. "Squeeze them. Rub it in!"

              With a hand that was now shaking like a paint-mixer, he squirted oil onto both of her mammaries, drenching them. He let the bottle drop to the couch between them and then reached out for her, each hand grabbing a slippery tit. He began to rub all over their surface, spreading the oil around and coating them until they were as glistening as her tummy. He then began to squeeze and feel them, touching everywhere at once, squishing them and feeling the soft skin give under his caress. Her nipples pushed insistently into his palms, slipped through his fingers, and begged for further touch. They swelled up even larger than they had been, becoming virtual rocks of pink flesh.

              "I like your hands on me," Stacy whispered to him, her eyes watching his exalted face. "Do you like touching me?"

              Speechless, he could only nod as he pushed the two boobs together and then pulled them apart, as he fondled and squeezed and palpated.

              "Why don't you suck them?" she breathed, her hand reaching out to touch the back of his neck. She pulled him gently towards her chest.

              A little groan escaped from his mouth as he lowered his head and put his lips to the nearer breast, capturing the slippery nipple and slurping it into his mouth. He tasted the bitter tang of the mineral oil on his tongue and felt it coating his lips but this did not detract from the pleasure of the moment in the least. He swirled his tongue around the nubbin and sucked on it like a baby.

              "Mmmmm," Stacy moaned, her hand continuing to caress the back of his neck. "I just love having my nipples sucked. That feels so good, Jack. Soooo good."

              Encouraged by her responses, Jack switched to the other breast, attacking that nipple and sucking all the oil off it. This forced him to lean over her body just a little bit more, bringing more of her flesh into contact with him. He could feel that big, pregnant belly pushing into his chest and he liked it.

              She grabbed one of his hands in hers and pushed it downward, sliding it over her stomach and down, until his fingers were touching the oily strip of hair at the edge of her bottoms. She continued to push and his hand slid beneath the silk and into the forest of pubic hair. Her legs opened up, giving him room and soon his fingers were touching the wet lips of her sex. He could not believe that this was happening to him. How many times had he imagined touching a girl's pussy? A thousand? A million? And now it was really happening to him. Not only was he touching it but Stacy was encouraging him, with the way she raised her hips up and down, to explore it thoroughly.

              "Mmmmm," she moaned as he felt all around the swollen lips. They were hot and very slick, made even slicker by the oil clinging to his fingers. He slipped his middle finger inside of her, having to reposition his arm to do so, and felt a wonderful tightness clenching at him. It felt even better than he had imagined it would in his fantasies.

              He fingered her for perhaps ten minutes, gradually adding a second digit to her chasm. The wetness continued to pour out of her, saturating his hand in fragrant juices. When the musky odor of her vaginal secretions reached his nose for the first time it gave him pause. It was strikingly similar to the odor that Christine had given off in the lean-to during those black nights when she and Skip would have sex next to him, thinking he wasn't awake. An odor associated with one's sister is not generally the best aphrodisiac in the world. But gradually, as nature intended, the subtle differences between Stacy's scent and Christine's asserted themselves in his mind. Stacy's smell was cleaner, fresher, not quite as strong (undoubtedly because Stacy was relatively clean as compared to how Christine had been on the occasions he had smelled her). Soon, instead of reminding him of Christine grunting and groaning and occasionally whacking him with her elbow, he began to associate the smell with the pleasure he was now feeling with his hands and his lips. He began to associate the odor with Stacy's body instead of Christine's, with the slippery feel of mineral oil on flesh, of hot nipple in mouth, of moist, inviting lips grasping his finger.

              He continued to suckle on her breasts as his fingers did their work, switching from one to the other with frequency. Stacy only moaned in pleasure, her fingers running through his hair, her hips slowly rising and falling upon his hand.

              And then suddenly, she pushed him off her, squirming out from beneath his body and standing up. He looked up at her guiltily, thinking that he had done something wrong or that she had suddenly realized what she was doing and was calling a halt to it. But she was doing no such thing. She shrugged her shoulders and the pajama tops fell to the ground. She gave a little push with her hands and the bottoms dropped as well, allowing him to finally see that wonderful pussy that he had just been groping. It was swollen and pouting almost angrily with arousal, the red hair Micked with her secretions. He saw a swollen red bump near the top of it that looked almost like a small nipple. Was that her clitoris? He had read about such a thing in magazines but had never seen one in the wild before.

              "Lay down on the couch," she told him lustily, her eyes tracking up and down his body.

              Wordlessly he did as he was told, lying on his back before her with his feet up. Strangely enough he instinctively tried to hide the fact that he had an erection from her. Never before had such a thing been a source of pride to him in an encounter with a female and old habits died hard. He turned his hips slightly away from her but she reached down and turned them right back, her eyes glued to the bulge in his jeans.

              "Should we let him out to play a little?" Stacy giggled, running her hand over the denim of his crotch.

              He jumped uncontrollably at the contact, nearly falling off the couch. "Umm, sure..." he panted.

              She smiled down at him, her fingers going to the button of his pants. "Its okay that you've never done it before," she told him gently, her fingers popping the first button open. "It's kind of sexy actually. I get to be your first."

              Of course he had never told her that he was a virgin but it seemed that his secret was apparent. "I don't really know... uh... what to do," he said.

              "It's okay," she said, giving her belly a rub. "I do."

              She undressed him slowly, pulling off his pants first and then his shirt. His cock, once freed from its confines, stood up as rigid as a flagpole, pre-come dripping from the end like a leaky faucet. He had not quite finished growing yet and, as such, he was only about five inches long. But Stacy did not seem to mind. Her eyes drank in the sight of his manhood, her tongue licking over her lips.

              But she did not touch it yet, did not even get close to it. Instead, she picked up the bottle of baby oil that he had recently used on her and sprayed it all over his chest and stomach.

              "Jesus," he cried, jumping at the feel of the cold liquid upon his skin.

              "It'll get hotter in a minute," Stacy promised, sitting on the edge of the couch near his hip. "Believe me, it'll get a lot hotter."

              She began to rub the oil into his skin, her hands spreading it all over his torso, turning his body into the same glistening mass of flesh that hers was. She squirted some more on his legs and rubbed each one, her hands massaging the muscles, driving his arousal to the brink. Throughout this massage she did not touch his penis at all, coming no closer to it than the top of his pubic hair despite his many attempts to lift his hips into her hands and force the contact.

              "The time will come for that," she said, kissing his cheek softly as she continued to rub up and down his stomach.

              Just when he thought he couldn't stand it any further, just as his balls were aching like a rotten tooth from pent-up sperm and his dick felt like it was going to snap under the pressure, she leaned over the top of him, so her breasts were dangling over his cock. Her boobs were still quite oily from the treatment he had given them earlier, everywhere except the nipples. She took a breast in each hand and leaned down even further, capturing his cock between them. She then pushed them together and began to move them back and forth, sliding that smooth flesh all over the shaft of his erection.