The day after: An apocalyptic morning (9 page)

              "Come on," Christine breathed, lust in her eyes as she looked at him looking at her. "It's your turn. Take your clothes off."

              He did just that. While he removed his boots, socks, and shirt, Christine unzipped her sleeping bag all the way and crawled inside of it. When he pushed his pants and underwear down, freeing his straining cock from its confines, she leaned up on one arm, her eyes locked onto it. She reached out with one hand and grasped it, feeling its girth, sliding her palm up and down lightly on it. It felt so good that Skip just held in place, letting her masturbate him.

              "Come to bed," she said, patting his sleeping bag, which she had pulled next to hers after flipping it over to make sure the zippers were both on the same side.

              He nodded, taking a quick look at Jack, her brother's presence occurring to him for the first time since they kissed. He was still sound asleep, snoring softly, completely oblivious to what was going on right next to him. That was good, Skip thought as he unzipped his bag and climbed inside.

              They let their two sleeping bags overlap each other, in effect creating one big sleeping bag. Skip pulled her to him, feeling her naked breasts against him, feeling her soft legs touching his. He slid his hand up and down her back as their mouths came back together and their tongues found each other once more. As the kiss deepened, Skip slid his hand down to her butt, touching it, feeling the firmness of her cheeks. Her hand reached out to find his cock again and she began sliding it up and down softly.

              He kissed his way down her neck to the hollow of her throat, spending a moment there before continuing his journey downward. His face rubbed over the swelling of her breasts and he let his tongue reach out and lick between them before he kissed his way to the nipple of the nearer one. He took it between his lips, tonguing it gently and then suckling it. Christine moaned softly from above him, continuing to caress his cock, her free hand on the back of his neck, encouraging him.

              After several minutes of attention to the left breast, he switched to the right, pulling himself a little further atop her. She rolled over onto her back to allow him freer access. He took advantage of this position by letting his hand slide over the front of her thighs. Though her calves were somewhat scratchy due to the lack of shaving, her thighs were baby smooth and very feminine. He stroked them with his fingertips, moving from the knees to the upper thighs and gradually forcing his hands in between them. She spread her legs for him as she felt his hand traveling towards her center and soon he was touching the junction between her inner thighs and her crotch. He let his fingers slowly explore her. They moved through kinky pubic hair and across soft, velvety outer lips before finding the warm wetness of her inner lips. She moaned again as he touched her there and then again as he slowly slipped his middle finger inside of her. Her sex was saturated with her musky juices and very tight. He could feel her muscles clenching at him strongly, gripping his finger. He added one more finger and began to slowly push and pull, sliding them in and out, up and down. He let his thumb lightly touch her erect clitoris and she jumped, squealing a little.

              "Shhhh," he whispered, bringing his head back up to her face and kissing her lips. "Wouldn't want your brother to wake up now, would we?"

              "Sorry," she whispered back, in a voice that was not quite steady.

              Their lips came back together as he continued to move his fingers in and out of her. After several minutes she loosened up slightly and her hips began to rise and fall in a gentle rhythm. He kept up the manipulation of her clitoris with his thumb and soon she was panting against him, her hands clawing at his back.

              "Mmmmm, ohhhhhhh, ohhhh God," she groaned into his mouth. Her thighs tightened against his hands and her pelvis rose forcefully upward. He kept her mouth covered with his own until her spasms died away.

              "Oh my God," she whispered excitedly to him, kissing his cheeks and his face. "I've never felt anything like that before."

              "You've never come?" he whispered back, slowly freeing his dripping hand from her sex. He began to stroke her stomach.

              "Well, yes, I have, but never like that. I've never had anyone make me come before. I've always... well... you know?"

              "Played with yourself?" he asked, sucking gently on her bottom lip.

              "Yeah," she breathed. "Sometimes I would. But you did it with your hand. And it felt so much better than the ones from my hand. My God."

              "Are you ready for another one?" he asked her. "A real one."

              "Yes, oh yes."

              He rolled his body upward, positioning himself atop of her. He had to do it entirely by feel since, while they'd been warming up for the main event, the light had abandoned the sky for the night, leaving them blind. This made Skip a little apprehensive since he could no longer look over to make sure that Jack was still asleep, but not apprehensive enough to stop.

              Her arms came up around him again and her legs opened up, allowing him to fall between them. He took his erection in his hand and rubbed it slowly through her wetness, lubricating it for the coming festivity in a most pleasurable way. Below him he could feel Christine trembling.

              "Are you okay?" he asked her, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips. "We can stop you know. It might even be better if we did. What if I get you pregnant?"

              "No," she said immediately. "I don't want to stop. And if I'm still around in two months to worry about being pregnant, I'll gladly accept the consequences. Do it to me, Skip. Do it to me."

              He did it to her. He put the head of his cock between her soft lips and pushed forward slowly. Despite the abundance of natural lubrication he had to force his way inside of her, she was that tight. It took a while to accomplish but soon his entire length was gripped within the snugness of her clenching sheath. He felt her sparse pubic hair mingling with his. He felt his balls resting against her butt.

              "Ohhh," she cooed in his ear. "Sooo big. So good."

              He knew that he wasn't really particularly big, just average, but he didn't bother correcting this notion at the moment. He began to move within her, keeping it slow so as to avoid waking up Jack (assuming he was still asleep). Very quickly the going became easier as her body adjusted to having him inside of her. Soon he was moving in a delightful friction, a tight, slippery channel that seemed custom designed for his pleasure. Though Julie, his wife, had been an expert at making love to him, Christine had the tightness and the allure of youth in her corner. Though she was clearly without much experience, and though she couldn't hold a candle to Julie's techniques at movement and gripping, he had to admit to himself that the actual sensation of intercourse with her was better than anything he had ever felt before. He could revel in the pleasure of her body for hours.

              The factor of Jack kept him from driving into her as he truly wanted to do. Instead, he kept it slow, using gentle, steady strokes designed not to make much noise or rustle the sleeping bags. It was a tender, almost hesitant act, though no less passionate than an unrestrained one.

              When Christine began to buck up and down with her second orgasm, Skip once again covered her mouth with his, sucking her tongue to keep her from moaning aloud as the waves of pleasure overtook her. The uncontrolled spasms of her tightness against him as she came pushed him over the edge of his own control. He felt the inevitability of his own orgasm building in his groin, moving up and down his spine. His hips began to move faster, driving with more power and now creating the noise that he did not wish to create. But he could not help himself. To not thrust potently in her body was impossible.

              This time it was Christine who kept him from moaning with her own mouth. She brought her legs up around his back, pulling him even harder against her. The spasms began and soon he was unloading thick jets of sperm into her body, plastering her cervix and overfilling her to the point that it ran out onto the fabric beneath them.

              Slowly the last vestiges of orgasm departed, the strokes slowed to a halt, and their breathing began to return to normal. They lay against each other, kissing softly, their bodies bathed in a sheen of sweat that quickly gave them chills. The entire lean-to, despite the ventilation from the openings on the side, reeked of sexual musk. Christine reached up and pulled the sleeping bag tighter around them.

              For the longest time they simply held each other, enjoying the sharing of their body heat, his wilting penis still nestled within her sopping opening. Finally Christine broke the silence. "I think the inside of my sleeping bag got wet," she said quietly to him.

              This gave them the giggles, the sound of which they covered by putting their lips to each other's necks.

              "Are you sorry for what we did?" Christine asked him when their laughter dried up.

              He didn't answer her right away, he only laid there atop her for a moment, trying to examine just how he felt about what had happened. "I don't know," he told her at last. "Ask me in the morning."

              "Okay," she said softly. "But in the meantime, can you hold me for awhile?"

              "Sure."

              He pulled himself off of her, rolling onto his back and she laid her head on his chest. His arms came around her, crossing protectively over her back. Within minutes, both of them were asleep.

              Part 2

              Skip awoke, as always, to the sound of rain and wind outside the lean-to. That was nothing unusual. What was different however was the fact that instead of shivering alone in his sleeping bag, he had a warm body lying atop him. Christine's head was snuggled into his chest, her blonde hair cascading over his shoulder. Her right arm was clinging to his upper torso. His own hands were still wrapped protectively around her back, his fingertips against her smooth skin.

              He groaned miserably as he remembered the events of the previous night. What had he done? He had violated a sixteen-year-old girl! That was statutory rape. Rape! A week ago he could have been thrown in prison for doing such a thing, and he would have deserved it. Skip, though a cop, had not been a fanatic on the subject of many of the laws that he had enforced. Some of them he had recklessly violated himself. He had been known to drive his car considerably faster than what was legal on a regular basis. He had been known to drink a beer while behind the wheel. He had routinely fudged deductions on his income taxes. He had taken home batteries, flashlights, map books, and several other useful items from the department supply room. But when it came to sex crimes against minors, he had always been a firm believer in the law that declared those under the age of eighteen to be hands-off. It was a good law, designed to protect young girls from people like... well people like himself. And now what had he done? He had slept with Christine. Just because the threat that the law represented had been removed he had done something that he believed, that he knew was wrong. What kind of man did that make him? Was he any better than the bikers he had shot?

              He opened his eyes slowly, noting that it was just past dawn. The meager light that marked the daylight hours was just starting to show itself, allowing him to see Christine's blond head on his chest and the slanted roof of the lean-to above him. Christine, feeling him stir a little, opened her own eyes and looked up at him.

              "Hi," she said meekly, offering him an embarrassed smile.

              "Hi," he returned, finding it difficult to look her in the eye.

              "That was the best I've slept since... well... you know."

              Skip did not admit to her that it was the best the he had slept as well. He let his arms fall to his side, releasing her from his embrace. "We'd better pull our sleeping bags apart," he said. "Jack will be up soon and I wouldn't want him to see us like this."

              She didn't move for a moment. "Skip?" she said, her face troubled. "Are you okay? You're not... mad at me, are you?"

              "No," he told her, shaking his head. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself."

              "You don't have to be upset," she told him. "What we did was..."

              "Wrong," he interjected. "What we did was wrong and I should have known better. Come on, let's get separated."

              Reluctantly she raised herself off of him allowing him a tantalizing and tempting glimpse of her breasts dangling beneath her for a moment. He did his best to ignore the sight and to try not to think about how those breasts had tasted and felt the night before. As he slid out from underneath her, trying to work his way fully into his own sleeping bag, he looked over the top of her, checking on Jack, expecting to see him still snoring away. Jack, a typical fourteen-year-old boy, was always the first to bed at night and the last to rise in the morning. But this time, as luck would have it, he was not. He was leaning on one elbow, looking at the two of them.

              Skip froze in place, a jolt of adrenaline surging through his body as he realized that he had been caught. Could this morning possibly get any worse? Would Jack pick up his rifle that he had been so recently taught to use and shoot the man that had raped his sister? That was certainly in the realm of possibilities, wasn't it?