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by COE 3. 1. 0


  When he came within earshot, he said, “You’re beautiful.”

  His eyes were shining, and there was a very real clarity in them. What beautiful blue eyes he had, she thought. And how beautiful he was all over, with his hair and skin wet and his flesh shining against the gentle water caps.

  She did not move – did not breathe – as he came closer. Her feet were standing on the bed of the lake, as were his.

  “Felicity.” His voice was huskier than usual.

  Her tongue was frozen.

  “I have a bucket list too,” he went on. “I want to make love to a beautiful woman before I go out with my guns blazing . . . and I want that woman to be you.”

  There was a slight tremor in his voice at the end. A hesitancy. And that was what got her – what made her shudder deep inside. What made her think that he was definitely not the smug playboy he once was. That everything that happened had changed him, just as it had changed her, and they were both not the same people they were two months ago.

  She said, “Yes.”

  He came into her arms before she knew what was happening. His lips crushed against hers in an overwhelming kiss. But oh, he felt so wonderful in her arms, and his lips were as soft as his body was hard. Her hands roamed across and down the muscles of his back. He felt so good everywhere. Silky, silky skin in the warm, living water.

  The kiss intensified. Now his tongue was probing through the opening of her mouth. He wanted to enter her. She let him. Her first open-mouthed kiss! She tasted him, their tongues dancing and exploring the maps of each other’s mouths. His hands slid all over her body in the water – her waist, her back, and down to the curves of her naked buttocks.

  A thrill flowered in her pussy. And suddenly, there was nothing she wanted more than to be taken by this beautiful man. To have him carry her up by the waist in this water, and for her thighs to wrap around his hips. Oh, to be mounted by him! Her pussy clenched with ravenous need, and it was like she had never realized what she had been missing her whole adult life. What all those books said desire could be and was. What she thought she would have to forgo in life because of her weight and looks and unsunny personality.

  But here she was, being desired!

  He wanted her, she knew. Every inch of his body wanted her. The way his mouth kept kissing hers, gluing his lips onto hers. The way his tongue seemingly couldn’t get enough of hers. And there was something else both delightful and unnerving that she felt between them. His hardness – an exciting thing which was now impinging upon her belly in a very obvious way.

  His hands went up to her breasts.

  “God,” he moaned against her mouth, “these are so huge. I love your tits.”

  His mouth swarmed down her neck and sucked in the water droplets on her throat. Her breasts were submerged in the water and he squeezed them. His thumbs stroked her nipples, making the blood rush into them.

  She gasped.

  His hands left her breasts.

  “Not here,” he said. “I want to make love to you properly. We can’t make a baby. Not in this world.”

  He scooped her up in his arms. Her heart fluttered. No one had ever tried to carry her before, and he was so strong. She could just swoon in his arms right there.

  “Oliver,” she warned him, “I’m heavy.”

  “Not to me.”

  And he carried her out of the water and to the shore.

  17

  They were in the master bedroom. Her bed, the one she had claimed.

  They were both totally naked. He had been naked in the water. He wasn’t kidding about skinny dipping. Their bodies were still wet from the almost swim, and they didn’t care if they made the bed sheets wet.

  They were so into each other.

  His mouth sealed over her right nipple. He sucked it voraciously, as though he were a man starving. And maybe he was. When was the last time he had sex? Two months ago? He was a young man – he must have huge sexual appetites. She pictured him masturbating in the next room for the past weeks. Who did he think about when he masturbated?

  Well, he was about to be relieved.

  With each pull of his cheeks, her nipple peaked and her womb contracted. She could not help making soft noises in her throat.

  “Oh, oh, oh!”

  He sucked her and sucked her until she thought her mind would explode and her nipple would turn into a smoldering little peaked volcano. He would suck milk out of her next, and she wondered if such a thing were possible. Then he transferred his heavenly mouth to her left nipple and began it all over again. Meanwhile, his hands roamed all over her body – touching and caressing her waist, her hips, the area between her hipbones and her pubis, and finally entangling his fingers in between the long strands of her pubic hair.

  “God, I have to taste you!” he declared when he came up for air.

  His head dived southward, and he attacked her pussy with his mouth. She never had anyone touch her down there before – anyone but her own hand, that was – and the fact that his mouth was now latched on her most intimate part was staggeringly shocking. So shocking that she could not give in to the curious but wonderful sensations which were swarming in and around her pussy.

  Oliver Greene, the most desirable guy on campus, is giving me head!

  I can’t believe it!

  But once she could wrap her mind around that fact – that the beautiful, bobbing head down there was Oliver’s, and he was enjoying every minute of it – she could surrender to the licks and tonguing and nibbling he was subjecting her pussy to. And there was certainly a feast of it.

  She never knew a tongue could do so many things or worm itself into such intimate places. Not only was he using his tongue, but he was using his fingers to open her up – splay her bare. He touched her and licked her in places she never knew existed. Like her clit, for example. Who knew it had so many delightful striations, or that it was an ultra-sensitive cushion which could be wetly pummeled and molded and swollen into so many pliant shapes and variations?

  Her gasps came out fast, until she was panting, and tossing her head here and there. Her hands flew down to clasp his head and neck and whatever she could get on him. He was intent on making her come. His tongue became faster, and harder, and more insistent, until she was clawing at him and groping and panting and screaming his name:

  “Oliver!”

  Her muscles contracted and spasmed and did everything they could to send her to the stars. Or sky. Or whatever it was that was above them.

  Ohhhhh!

  This was far better than any orgasm she had ever given herself through her thick, unwieldy fingers. Her juices trickled out of her hole like a never-ending tide, and he lapped at them and drank them and savored them and swallowed them. It was as though he were drinking her in. Her font of womanhood. Her everything.

  When she finally descended, the world was in a gauzy haze. Oliver was glowing and shining. He had swung his long legs off the bed, and she could see his body for what he was. God, but he was so beautiful. His muscles were hard and lean and his body was glistening with water and sweat. His cock –

  Oh, his cock!

  It was the first time she was really seeing it. Before this, he was carrying her and kissing her too hard for her to notice. Of course she had felt it against her belly and she was always aware of it bobbing beneath her as he carried her. But this was the first time she could admire its length and girth in its entirety.

  It was just as beautiful as the rest of him. It stood straight and erect and at an angle from his body. He was rifling through the drawers in the cabinet beside the bed.

  “Oh, thank God,” he said, taking out a box of condoms. He emptied it, only to find one silver packet left. He held it up and grinned. “I’d better not break this then.”

  He tore open the wrapper with his teeth and handed it to her. “You want to put it on me?”

  She helped herself up on her elbows.

  “I don’t know how,” she confessed.

  He e
yed her steadily. “You’ve never done this before, right?”

  “No.” She couldn’t help blushing.

  “Was this on your bucket list?”

  “Maybe.”

  He took the folded cap of the condom and placed it onto the tip of his huge cock.

  “This is how you do it,” he explained gently. “You put it on first . . . and then you roll it back.”

  He did exactly as he described and sheathed the condom onto his cock. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. He pressed her slowly down onto the bed again.

  “Are you ready to complete your bucket list?” he teased.

  “Who said you were on my bucket list?” she teased back.

  “You’re certainly on mine.” He lowered himself down on her and held her hips. “Now, this is going hurt a little, but it’s all part of having sex for the first time.”

  “I’ll bet it never hurt your first time.”

  He smiled down at her and kissed her mouth.

  “Close your eyes, Felicity,” he whispered against her lips.

  She obeyed. Her thighs were parted and she felt his cock brushing against her pussy hole. Her heart cringed a little. She was a little scared. It was so huge.

  But it was the end of the world, and it was Number One on her bucket list, now that she cared to admit it. I want to make love to a beautiful boy before I die.

  He thrusted. A sharp pain flowered in her vagina. But she didn’t cry out.

  “You OK?” he asked her.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s in.”

  “I know. I can feel it.”

  Indeed, she could. It expanded her whole vagina more than she thought possible, but it also felt just right. As if it was meant to be inside her, and they were meant to be like this. Coupling.

  “You OK if I move?” he said. His voice had gone hoarse again.

  She looked into his eyes. His beautiful, mesmerizing blue eyes. They were looking down at her with emotion, with

  (dare she say it?)

  love.

  But he couldn’t love her yet, could he? Did she love him?

  (Yes.)

  (No.)

  Neither of them was prepared to be in love yet. But the Oliver she knew two months ago was not the Oliver of today. He had changed. They both had changed. She doubted the Oliver of today could ever go back to his philandering, devil-may-care ways. Too much had happened to him – to both of them.

  “Yes,” she replied again.

  “OK,” he said. He began to move. Gentle thrusts – in and out of her. She opened up her thighs further to let him slide in and out easier. His penis cleaved the walls of her vagina, allowing them to open and close like wet leaves. She could hear the wet squelching of hard flesh against soft flesh. Feel the head of his cock abutting against the greedy mouth of her cervix.

  She loved the fact he was so responsible – that he did not want to take her in the lake because he wanted to put on a condom first.

  With his cock still embedded in her engorged pussy, he bent his head down and sealed his mouth over hers. He kissed her over and over again, making the heat rise further within her body, until her mind was so filled with lust and love that the two were interchangeable, and she didn’t know which one began and which one ended.

  In this manner, they both rode out their orgasms. Until he too climaxed with a sharp cry and collapsed on top of her.

  When he came to, he stroked her face tenderly, brushing the tendrils of damp hair off her forehead and cheeks.

  “Did you like that?”

  She was pretty hoarse herself. “Yes. Very much.”

  “Good. Then we will do it again. And again.”

  A noise downstairs made both of them prick up. Felicity’s heart chilled when she heard growling. Someone was coming up the stairs and their bedroom door was open.

  “Oh shit,” she said, “we forgot to barricade the door.”

  Indeed, they had been so overcome with lust that they had lowered their guard and not put up their usual defenses when they came in from the lake. How careless could they get? For a while there, it was almost as if the whole world was theirs, and they didn’t have to worry about survival. But there it was – that omnipresent threat. And they were about to be punished severely for it.

  Oliver sprang up from the bed and flew to the door immediately. He slammed it shut and locked it. She caught a glimpse of a fast mutant launching itself at the door and crashing against it when Oliver shut it.

  Oliver stared at her. She got out of bed fast, her heart beating in her ears.

  “There are two of them,” he said.

  When she had come up here to change, she brought her backpack along upstairs. It was a stroke of foresight, thank goodness.

  “Wait,” she said, rifling in her backpack. She took out her gun. “Do we shoot them?”

  He hesitated. “No. Too messy and too loud. Give me the knife.”

  They had never encountered a fast mutant before and fought it. They had absolutely no practice with the real thing. All those rooftop rehearsals were staged with each other, and they had no idea how a fast mutant was going to act.

  “No, Oliver,” she cried, “stay here. They might go away.”

  He went to the backpack and took out a long carving knife. The mutants at the door clawed at it and made guttural animal noises.

  He said. “Point the gun at the door. If anything that is not me comes for you, shoot it in the head.”

  “What are you going to do?” She was truly frightened for him.

  I can’t lose you, she thought. It wasn’t the first time. She couldn’t lose him when he fell ill either, and more than ever, she couldn’t lose him now.

  “We can’t spend our time hiding under covers. This will be our test,” he said, going to the door. “I’m going to open this door. I’m going to engage them . . . but if I can’t . . . ” he paused meaningfully “ . . . you shoot them, OK? Shoot them till they are dead. Do whatever it takes.”

  “Oliver, no!” She couldn’t believe he was risking his life now. Risking theirs! (Well, OK, primarily his, since she had the gun.)

  But she wasn’t sure she could shoot straight anyway. They didn’t have practice!

  “I’m going to let one in,” he said meaningfully. “Ready?”

  “No, Ollie, no!”

  But he opened the door. Not fully, but partially. One of the mutants – a woman in a red dress – dove in through the crack in the door, snarling and baring her teeth. Oliver heaved his entire weight onto the door when she was halfway through so that half her body was jammed – her head and one arm was through.

  The mutant shrieked, which jarred Felicity. Did they still feel pain? Were they still human? She didn’t know if she could kill a human being.

  Oliver opened the door slightly again and slammed it down onto the mutant. Felicity could only train the gun at the mutant. Who had the mutant been once? She still had a full head of blonde hair, only that it was matted and tatty now. Felicity cringed.

  Then Oliver plunged the knife into the blonde’s throat. It was a swift movement – a slice across the throat. The blood spurted. It was very slow, dark red blood. Unlike the bright red arterial gush Felicity expected from living human beings.

  Human being or not human being?

  The blonde mutant fell without a cry, blocking the door from being shut. Oliver wrenched the door wide open and the second mutant leaped forward. The mutant was a man in extremely ragged clothes and wild, unkempt hair. He might have been a vagabond or drunk in his previous life. His stench was obvious to Felicity, whose hands were trembling as she aimed the gun at him.

  Oliver attacked with the knife, but the mutant caught hold of his knife hand at the wrist.

  They so damned fast, she thought.

  Oliver struggled, trying to wrench off the mutant’s grasp. The knife dropped from his hand. She couldn’t get a clear shot. The mutant’s teeth were dangerously close to Oliver’s shoulder and neck, and the thing was trying
to get at him, to sink its teeth into Oliver’s living flesh.

  What happened when a mutant bit you? Did you just die or turn into one too? Felicity didn’t think you would turn into one. There would be more of them around if they did.

  Oliver managed to twist his body. Now he was behind the mutant. She could get a clear shot. But what if she hit him instead?

  Oliver grasped the mutant’s neck with his arm. There was a sharp crack, and the mutant fell to the floor, its neck at an unnatural angle.

  Felicity stared at the two dead bodies on the floor. Then she stared at Oliver. His naked chest was streaked with dirt. His eyes were pained.

  “I’m sorry I was careless,” he said. “They got in. It was my fault for not fortifying this place before I threw you onto the bed and fucked you.”

  She was ashen. “No. I’m as much to blame.” She was trembling all over.

  His face flinched and he sort of melted. He held out his arms.

  “Come here,” he choked.

  She shakily made her way to him. He grabbed her as soon as she was within arm’s reach and crushed her to his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he buried his face in her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No . . . it’s not your job to protect me.”

  “It is,” he said fiercely. “You’re with me and that makes you my responsibility. I’m the one who brought you out here, so I’m responsible. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s OK, Oliver, it’s OK – ”

  Whatever she wanted to say was cut off by an abrupt kiss. His hungry mouth closed over hers and he sucked her breath in.

  When they both came up for air, he said, “I’m hard again.”

  She looked down, and surely enough, his cock was rising again.

  He laughed, as did she. “But let’s do clear these two out first, shall we?”

  “Yes.” She looked down at herself. Her inner thighs were stained with a little blood, but not much. His penetration had not caused much damage. But her pussy felt a little sore – in a good kind of way.

  Together – as a real couple – they put on their clothes and set to clear up and fortify their new home.

 

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