The doctor even worked over my feet. Fingers rubbed my heels, arches, and the balls of my feet. Her touch was both sensual and professional, although there was an undertone of electric sexuality to the whole process.
Despite everything, though, I couldn’t help but doze a little. I felt so relaxed under her hands, despite my raging arousal, that when I closed my eyes, I was out. Some time later, I felt Estelle gently pat my ass just hard enough to bring me back to wakefulness.
“Seems I still have my touch,” she said, pleased with herself. The bottle clinked once again, and she rubbed her hands together. “How do you feel?”
“Kind of incredible,” I replied, my voice a little muffled by the rose-scented pillow. I let out a low groan and shifted a bit. Much of the aches and pains I felt almost all the time was gone. “I’m almost afraid to move.”
She laughed at that.
“You’re going to have to,” Estelle prodded. “Roll your ass over. It’s time for parts two and three.”
“Holy shit,” I muttered as I pushed myself up a bit. “That was just part one?”
“I told you I was a professional, Henry Forrest,” she replied, a teasing tone to her voice. “I’m not about to leave a job incomplete.”
I wriggled and squirmed and rolled onto my back, hardon and all, then folded my arms behind my head and gazed up at her. She sat off to the side, rubbing oil-slick hands together. The lavender and chamomile scent was stronger now. A glance at the nightstand showed a blue bottle with “Relaxation” printed in white on a clear label.
“I like that,” I said. “Smells nice.”
“It’s one of my favorites,” she said with a smile. Her eyes drifted over me and down, lingering at my crotch, I suspected, until she confirmed it by saying, “You are a big boy, aren’t you?”
“Like the horsepower and torque stats for a Rolls-Royce,” I said with a smirk. “Adequate and Sufficient.”
That earned me a laugh and a shake of her head.
“I see why those other girls love you,” she said, still rubbing her hands together. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that later.”
“Part three?” I wondered.
“Part three,” she confirmed with a firm nod of her head. “And don’t you fret that I find this any easier than you do. It’s been a lot longer since I’ve had a man than it has been since you had a woman.”
“Sorry?” I said, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Don’t be,” she told me. “It took me a while to get over being stupid, and I mean to enjoy myself.”
The doctor leaned over and gazed into my eyes, her hard nipples brushing the skin of my chest. “I think I’ve fallen for you, Henry,” she said. “Despite my best efforts to keep it all professional.”
“I love you, too, Estelle,” I admitted, it hadn’t been that long since I figured that out for myself, or maybe it took a little help from the other loves of my life. Still, it was a relief to say the words, much like it had been when I finally said them to Jackie.
19
I closed my eyes as Estelle leaned over to begin working on my shoulders from the front. Her body was warm against mine, and her hands were strong and sure as she dug them into stiff muscles. From my shoulders, she ran her hands over my collarbone, then down to my pecs,
With only touch to tell me what she did, I let my mind wander a bit, but instead of that, the growing sense of relaxation that filled me lulled me off into a drowsing state once more. I felt her hands caressing and kneading all across my body and briefly opened my eyes when she explored my old bullet scars with her gentle fingertips.
No words followed, only the continued attention of her hands while she hummed softly to herself. Despite moving dangerously close, her hands never actually touched my genitals.
At least not until she paused for a long moment, allowing me to sink down almost into sleep, then gently curled her fingers around me, exploring the length and thickness of my shaft with her right hand, while she cupped and held my balls in the warm palm of her left.
I couldn’t help but let out a groan as I opened my eyes.
“Part three,” she said softly.
My eyes closed again. I really wanted to see, or maybe feel, what the doctor had in mind. So far, I hadn’t been disappointed. It was certainlya different approach than the other women had taken with me, or that I’d taken with them. There was a very deliberate level of teasing here, but not without the definite promise of a happy ending.
Estelle’s left hand fell away, and she shifted against me, laying down along my side while her right hand kept up its slow stroke up and down along my erection. Her lips found mine, and the kiss took me down roads of desire that I never expected. I wanted her so badly that it was hard to resist making her mine at my own pace, rather than hers.
I resisted, though. There’d been so much buildup that I’d resolved to stay the course and see Estelle’s plan for me all the way through. That meant, though, exercising probably the most strenuous self-control that I’d had to engage in, well, ever.
Estelle kissed me again, then slowly began to trail her lips down as she nuzzled into my beard. Something about her movement and attention made me even more aware of her hand stroking my dick, and I inhaled sharply.
“This is what you had in mind for how long?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I’ve had a while to think about it,” she murmured in response. “Let’s just say it’s been a while.”
Her lips moved over my chest, now, and she squirmed a bit to reposition herself.
“It’s hard for me, too,” she said quietly. “You’re quite the man.”
I didn’t say anything as she kissed her way over my stomach on the way downward. My muscles tensed a bit. The new world had been fairly good for me. I had leaned up a bit, lost weight, added muscle, and it was honestly easier to eat healthy now than it had been before. Early on, my sex drive had increased a good bit, too, but I hadn’t really paid much attention to how fatigue had been affecting me.
This was a hell of a wake-up call.
I tensed as Estelle brushed her lips over the tip of my hard-on, then slowly and carefully took me into her mouth. Her teeth lightly brushed my skin as she closed her lips tight around my girth, and I think right about then was when my mind shut down.
The next thing I remember is arching my back as the doctor straddled my hips, impaling herself on my erection. She was warm and soft and slick around me, and I let out another groan.
“Yeah,” she murmured. “Oh, God. I need this so bad.”
I gazed up at her and peeled my hands from behind my head, sliding them up her thighs to her hips. No words came to mind at that moment, so I just rolled my hips a bit. It wasn’t so much a tease as it was a desire. I wanted to move. Hell, I wanted her to move.
When she did, it was a slow roll of her hips, and the inner walls of her sex squeezed me tight. I almost lost it right there, but the desire to please her as well as myself was a strong one. Strong enough to overcome the screaming need of my body to just let fly and fill Estelle with everything I had.
She leaned forward, and I moved my hands up to her breast, my fingers sinking into the soft swells as her nipples pressed into my palms. A little gasp of pleasure escaped her lips. Then she began to move in earnest, her strong legs flexing as she lifted and fell, riding me as if her life depended on it.
Neither of us lasted as long as we’d hoped, I suspected. A few eager lifts and grinds of her hips against mine while I thrusted and arched to meet her, while I squeezed and kneaded on her ample breasts was all it took.
Estelle began to spasm on top of me, crying out happily as she did, until the grinding of her hips carried me over that pinnacle as well, and I came, rather suddenly, deep inside her.
She made more sounds of delight and kept on grinding while my body tensed and relaxed beneath hers. Minutes or hours later, she sagged against me, panting while I stroked her breasts and then down over her ribs an
d hips.
“You make,” I murmured. “A good argument.”
“So, do I pass the audition?” she asked hoarsely.
“Oh, yes,” I answered, and closed my eyes. “With flying colors.”
“Good.”
We slept for a bit after that, neither of us able or willing to get up and clean up. That could wait for later.
When we woke up, spooned together, the light from the windows had dimmed, and there was something of a chill in the air. I shifted a bit to try to get a glance at my watch and found that it was a little after sixteen-hundred. We’d arrived at Estelle’s house around ten-hundred, so we’d had three or four hours of sleep, maybe five.
I didn’t want to move, though. She was warm, smelled nice, and squirmed delightfully against me when I started to move away.
“Not yet,” she protested.
“Fine,” I said and pressed against her back as I began to kiss the nape of her neck, my right hand sliding up to caress one of her breasts. “My turn.”
Things degenerated, or maybe went as expected, from there.
Sometime later, after dark, the pair of us sat on the pool deck with warm beers and the gas grill nearby cooking several cans of beef stew that we’d emptied into one of Estelle’s fine stainless-steel pots. A wooden spoon stuck above the brim.
Every now and then, one of us would get up to stir the pot. It was a quiet night but for the singing of the insects and the occasional hoot of an owl. The only light was from a small battery lantern that I kept charged in my truck.
Eventually, she interrupted the languid silence.
“So,” Estelle began. “You and the others talked about me?”
“Yeah,” I said. “We all are really fond of you, and it didn’t seem right for you to be excluded, especially if you didn’t want to be. I know that sounds kind of planned, but it really wasn’t. You fit really well into our little family, but none of us really knew if you wanted to take this step.”
“I was sort of mixed,” she admitted, then rose and went to check the stew. “It took me a while to figure out what I wanted.”
“Are you happy?” I asked.
Estelle turned the heat down and reached for the bowls. I just watched her in the dim light. It was a new moon, and the sky was overcast as well. Without streetlamps or light pollution, the darkness was really deep. Off in the overgrown yard, something rustled. A dog barked in the distance.
“I am,” she said at last, then walked over and handed me a steaming bowl of Dinty Moore. “We’ll really have to fix up the living arrangements, though.”
“Yeah,” I said, breathing in the heady scent of the food. “But we can worry about that later.”
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you say that, Henry Forrest,” she said with a laugh as she rejoined me with a bowl of her own.
“Might be the first time I said it in front of you,” I said with a shrug. “I like to just get things done.”
“Don’t I know it,” she said, laughing softly.
“Heh.”
Spoons clinked as we ate in silence. The unknown creature out in the darkness rustled a little more. I figured it was a raccoon or a possum, and just resolved to let it be. Estelle didn’t even mention the sounds, so she either wasn’t worried or didn’t notice them.
The stew was thick, salty, and filling. About the only thing that would have improved the meal was some thick, crusty bread to mop up the remnants of the gravy. Still, it hit the spot. We both went back for seconds, glad we’d made all the cans that she had tucked away in the pantry. Maybe we could have made biscuits to go along with the meal, but we didn’t really have that much energy to spare.
“So what happens next?” she asked after a few more minutes of silence.
“We see what’s up at the CDC and help out there for a bit, collect everyone that wants to head to the homestead, and return home,” I replied. The tepid beer was bitter in my mouth, but it went down easy. This particular brand wasn’t one of my favorites, but it was what we had.
“I mean longer term,” she said. “I suspect we’re going to collect more warm bodies…” Her voice trailed off. “Sorry.”
“For what?” I wanted to know.
“I’m supposed to help you relax, not talk to you about what might be.”
“Estelle, love,” I said. “Right now, I am so relaxed and happy that I’m more than willing to let tomorrow pass me by.” I chuckled and leaned my head around to gaze at her before reaching out for one of her hands.
She took my outstretched hand, and we gazed at each other in the lantern’s dim light.
“I still want only the best for all of you,” I continued. “Sure, the business with Price hasn’t even been a thing, yet. Maybe it never will be. I don’t think either of us is looking to expand far outside of our local area, and I can’t imagine he has that many people.”
“You’re probably right,” she said thoughtfully. “You really seem to know what you’re doing, too.”
“Like I’ve told the other two,” I said, smiling. “I’m pretty good at faking it.”
She snorted.
“I’ve watched you handle damn near everything that life has thrown at you,” she said, shaking her head. “If that’s faking it, then more of us would be better off taking your approach. About the only person that might be more prepared than you is Bruce, and he’s at least twenty-five percent talk.”
I laughed at that.
“Bruce knows his shit,” I said. “He’s even got some training, and he knows and respects the military. Angie and I suspect, though, that he never served.”
“Why?” She asked.
“It’s little things,” I opined, leaning back in my chair and stretching my legs out. Estelle’s porch furniture was nice enough to nap in. “It’s no single thing, either, and we could be wrong.”
“But it’s rude to ask?”
“Yeah,” I said. “At his age, he could have been in Vietnam and come back, only to go full prepper while the Cold War wound up. Hell, he could have been in Korea, too. Neither of us wants to potentially touch off that powder keg.”
“I like him,” Estelle admitted after a few more minutes of silence.
“Oh, so do I,” I said. “He’s an interesting guy, but real guarded about anything in his past. There’s a lot going on in his head, and I suspect we’ll learn a lot by paying attention to him.”
“It’s not a case of someone knowing just enough to be dangerous?” she asked curiously.
I shook my head.
“I don’t think that’s the case,” I replied. “He knows his way around weapons and safety protocols, and his sense for material needs is rather extraordinary. Military background or not, I’m glad he’s on our side. I’d kind of hate to be in a survival race with him.”
She chuckled.
“Sounds like you’ve got a strong opinion there,” she said. “I just get a pretty good feeling off of him. A lot like what I get off of you, but without any kind of raw, animal attraction.”
“Good,” I said. “I’d hate to have competition for you.”
“You’d win, hands down,” she said. “I’m sure Jackie and Angie think so, too.”
“I certainly hope so,” I said, grinning in the darkness. Both of the others were quite firmly in the Henry Forrest camp, something that I was rather inordinately proud of. After a pause, a thought occurred to me.
“Estelle,” I asked. “What’s that painting you’ve got in your bedroom? I was trying to place it, but it escaped me.”
“The larger one?” she asked. “The woman with the mandolin?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “That one.”
“La bohémienne à mandoline assise,” she replied, the French rolling off her tongue. “Seated Woman with a Mandolin, by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot. I kind of fell in love with it last year, when I saw it at the High. Bought a print and everything.”
“Cool,” I said noncommittally. “It is nice. Impressionist, right?”
“You are full of surprises, Mister Forrest,” she exclaimed. “I never figured you for an art lover.”
“I can tell if I like something or not,” I said with a grin.
She laughed at me, and we lapsed back into silence, listening to the night sounds and just enjoying the darkness and clear, chill air. My mind wandered back to trying to figure out what it was that kept rustling in the bushes out in the dark.
“So,” Estelle said after a bit more quiet time, accompanied by rustling in the bushes and other night-time noises. “How do you feel after all that?”
I paused for a long moment while I took an internal inventory. A lot of my aches and pains, along with the tension in back and shoulders, had eased off from just the extensive massage. I felt… good.
“Like a million bucks,” I told her.
“That’s a lot of deer,” she joked.
20
Raymond Price
“What have you got for me, Baron?” I asked, regarding the young man sitting across from me.
Baron Chandler pushed his glasses up along his nose with a finger and consulted his tablet. Since we had power, the technologist had gotten several computers, tablets, and even some cellphones operational over the past few months.
We had no internet, and long-range communication still required radio. Still, in the local area, my group of pilgrims and colonists had many of the benefits of before, although much hinged on the continued operation of generators and solar alternatives. The supply of fuel and materials for the solar arrays was a bit lacking for my comfort, but so long as Baron was the one who took the blame for any failures, I was happy to let him continue as my right hand.
“Johnathan Stern reported from Atlanta, and Jake Wilcox from Montgomery,” Baron said. “Your broadcasts are coming in loud and clear in both areas, and both teams have recruited a few other survivors. Stern also says that the CDC has become a hub for another survivor group. He’s keeping them under observation, but they seem to have an older military fellow at the forefront of their operation.”
After The Virus (Book 2): Homesteading Page 14