Living amongst the Dead

by J. Morgan

  Midway through, he felt her relaxing, even leaning into him a bit, and now appeared visibly more at ease. Her head lowered, embarrassed, wondering if she was any good at what they had just done, imagining not. It was alright, he thought. Not the best of course, she was still new to kissing, and few people are ever good at something they’re new at, but it was enjoyable all the same.

  “Looks like it’s… ‘grown’…” Looking down himself, he could see that it was indeed fairly swollen as she mentioned. His hand slipped from her shoulders as he stood up. Having been sitting down, much of the base was concealed within his crotch; it was just the nature of dicks, or at least his dick. When in a sitting position, some of it seemed to be withdrawn into his groin, but when standing, which he was now, most every inch was on display. Well over two times its previous size it had grown, and though it was still about average sized, at best maybe less than an inch above average, her eyebrows bounced up. It was like a magic trick; that relatively ‘small’ beginning turned out to be a respectable size in the end. Decently thick as well, by the looks of it. Not overly so, but it didn’t appear lacking, not by her inexperienced eyes anyways.

  With a pointer and middle finger on either side of its base, he pressed down; squishing the pubic hair and softness of his groin so as to reveal a bit more length. It was likely a bit above-average now, and her eyes widened to match her raised eyebrows. Handling it like this, there was more of a curve, and the foreskin was now stretched back enough to expose much of the tip of his reddish glans.

  “You can um… stop now…” Her eyes normalized, looking away, face very red now, and he felt embarrassed at his ‘little’ show. He figured she’d want to see the cock that ‘made her a woman’ as it were, but perhaps he was wrong. It annoyed him that she hadn’t gone along with the fantasy he had in his mind at the time of showing himself to her. Imaging her biting her lower lip, reaching out, grasping him, and stroking it while breathing heavily as her eyes gazed intensely at the length. Getting wet, she’d begin stripping off her underwear so she can once more enjoy that manhood, this time with the benefit of light, not cramped inside the box of some truck. Of course it was just wishful thinking…

  Still, he didn’t let the anger show, but there was obvious frustration. “Well go on, get in bed.” It wasn’t said impatiently, but wasn’t said as nicely as it could have been. Having just seen the thing that he’d put inside her, and having seen it hard, evidence of his arousal, and even thinking that SHE had caused it, she didn’t give him any hard glances or causes to upset him. Her heart was racing, her eyes wider than normal though not huge, but just keenly aware of all that was going on; any sounds, any movement. She got under the blankets on the far side of the bed, lying on her back, looking towards him. He stood, tossed his corner of the comforter and sheets aside, her green eyes glanced from his hard crotch to his face before simply going up to the safer location of the ceiling.

  He had noticed the look, smirked slightly, and then welcomed himself into the bed. His Lee Enfield, remembering that it was loaded with 7+1 still, was leaning against his night stand; his M1911A1 on top of it also holding 7+1. Keeping those in mind just in case he should be awoken with a start, he scooted over towards the woman he lay with, nearly in the center of the bed now, surrounded by pleasant softness. His right arm came across her belly, and though he expected her to turn away so they could spoon, she turned towards him, however merely looked at his chest, not at his face. Her arms were against her chest, hands in fists, holding each other and held close to her.

  The arm lifted as it happened, eyes flashing wide for a moment, prominent eyebrows bouncing in surprise, and the arm came back down. If she wanted to face him while they rested, then that was fine by him. The arm came down, this time across her left arm, elbow sending his forearm to drape down her upper back; he could feel the strap of her bra. Temptation to undo it just to be a little shit had crossed his mind, but he resisted.

  Tiffany looked nervously at the wall of hairy flesh before her, left arm at her side now, keenly aware that this aroused man lay in front of her in the same bed, that he was over half a foot taller than her, MUCH stronger than her, and had already fucked her once. Whether it was against her will or ENTIRELY non-consensual, she was still not entirely sure, but remembering that situation in the truck, with her wrists and ankles tied, feeling him on her, his musk filling their little ‘bedroom’ in the box of that truck, it made her heart skip a beat. It was so hot… just being fondled like that, being used, feeling such fear and yet at the same time such longing.

  After all while she was in that damned town, Strathcom, she thought she’d die without having ever had sex with a man. She was even considering lesbianism just to feel that closeness with someone, and though the thought of fondling/sucking breasts wasn’t too bad in her mind, almost enjoyable, the thought of touching a pussy other than her own was decidedly unpleasant, as was the thought of mashing her pussy against another during tribadism. No, Tiff was, though she would never admit it, happy that she had gotten to have sex before her death, whenever it should be.

  The woman hitched her breath in her lungs once more, body stiffening as the forearm on her upper back, not long after having lain itself there, then pulled her forward. Her breasts squished against that chest, she pointedly kept her hips away from his though, not wishing to feel where his cock was obviously sticking out, and her eyes went up to his. He was smiling down at her, hugging her to him. He was still so musky, his scent so manly, a tinge of sourness from body odour but it wasn’t all THAT bad. It was strong, not in the sense of a strong stink, but was simply a smell that made her think of strength, a strength she didn’t have, and a strength that had kept her safe while they traveled, a strength that had seen to giving a recently deceased elderly couple as proper a burial as they could have expected.

  It would have been nicer if he was washed, if perhaps he took a dip in the nearly river before coming in, and he was thinking the same thing, but she thought that she might even be able to get used to this… provided his smell never got any more ‘potent’. She stopped looking up at him, resting her forehead against his chest, secretly inhaling in her noes to take in his scent… and it stirred her in some way. Her left hand snuck forward, reached around his waist, and felt his warmth, his bulk. A little scared, she summed up the courage, and scooted her bottom half forwards. First she felt her right thigh meet his, the left came next, and she could feel ‘it’ prodding at her panties, at her pubic area. At least it didn’t go between her legs to rub against her lips.

  His left arm was beneath her pillow, giving more cushioning which was nice, though it also opened his left armpit. A more unpleasant smell was coming from there, but she tried not to notice. Scooting upwards, trying to get her head more above the pillow to get away from that armpit, with her eyes now at the level of his neck, they widened as she realized what she had just done. His hard cock was now on the outside of that thin, silky red underwear, and its head prodded and twitched against where her clitoris was swelling. A close-mouthed gasp, sudden intake of breath, and he sensed what just happened, felt her body stiffen.

  The right hand on her back was moving down, and to her horror, while it was descending, it stopped at her strap. He pulled on it, not to undo it, but pulled it outwards as though he were about to release it to make it snap onto her bare back which was a less than pleasant sensation. Her body stiffened further, and it made her hips go towards his crotch, nestling the member slightly between her thighs in that niche where they went up to her womanhood.

  “Don’t you dare…” she said clearly, feeling that he was pulling the strap back several times as though giving consideration to giving it one last tug back and letting it go.

  “Or else what?... what’ll you do?...” He said it with a grin, and she looked up to see it, fighting back a grin herself though the anticipation of the pain that would come on her back was making it quite an easy battle.

  There was silence for a time, she waited, b
ut eventually quietly told him the truth. “You’re ruining the moment…” it was said softly, a bit sadly, and he felt regret. The tension on the strap was released, laid down gently, and pinching the center of the strap between his fingers he felt the hooks come loose and the tension of the material lessen. A grumble came from her, wishing he hadn’t done that.

  “What? Think I’m still…” his hand slid down her side now and kept going, “… ruining…” it came to her hip, “… the…” that hand then went back to her left ass cheek, “… moment?” Simultaneously the ass was squeezed, and he pulled it to his crotch, pushing his member in that nook where her thighs met her vagina, the soft material of her panties still protecting it, but if it weren’t there, she knew that cock would be in the warmth… and the wetness… of her pussy lips. She had gasped, open-mouthed, her right arm had been curled up between them, hand closed and somewhere near the left side of his chest or his left armpit. The hand came up, opened, and lay on the center of his chest, feeling the coarse hairs there. The noise that had escaped her could very easily be construed as a moan. Whether that would be a misconstruance, neither of them truly knew. Deep down she liked his forwardness, even if she felt that merely lying together, cuddling if she dare use the word, would have been favourable, and well… more… romantic?

  She gave no grumbles, no complaints, nor any evil looks. He felt her hair on his chin as she pressed her face towards his upper chest and neck, hiding herself there, while her right hand was still against him, left arm hugging him. She was breathing noticeably more heavily, and not quite as noticeably, he was as well.

  “Why do I find it hard to hate you sometimes?...”

  “You can’t go through life hating all men. Maybe if you were a lesbian it would be easier, but if you’re straight?... How can you hate something that deep down, you desire?...” Surprisingly she didn’t talk back at him for his amateur bit of psychology, but he tried to look at it from her perspective all the same, and so the words came out that she had been thinking of saying herself. “You don’t need a man, just like I don’t need a woman.” His right hand came off her ass and rested on her hip which somehow caused relief and disappointment at the same time. For someone who seems like he should be wearing a loincloth and wielding a club, he was fairly well articulated, and his accent was coming out a little as he spoke softly to her. Seemed like a mix of Irish and English, but leaning heavily towards Irish. That was the best they could describe it; it was his Newfie accent.

  “I do find however that having one… just makes things… better.” That hand was already going up her body now, passing by her breasts without doing anything to them, and to her surprise, came to her chin. Thumb and second bone of his pointer finger making an angle in which the end of her jaw was caught. Gently, that jaw was pushed up, making her look up to him, and before she knew it his lips were on hers again, kissing her, the hand cupping the left side of her jaw now, thumb caressing her left cheek, and she melted into him, not minding that her pussy had just then grinded onto the hard cock that twitched between her thighs against her crotch, nor minding the faint feeling of moisture from the precum that was building.

  Their lips came apart, her eyes slowly opening, his having opened again already; she looked almost dazed, and he gave her a sincere smile, a smile that removed the coldness and intimidation that were typically present in his features when neutral. Her forehead went back to his upper chest/neck, and he let her nuzzle into there, resting his chin softly on her head, enjoying the feminine scent of her, even without all the products that women used to use to give themselves unnatural though quite pleasant smells.

  “Ohhh, you fucker…” She was wriggling somewhat, the words coming out airily, and he could sense her arousal. She blamed him entirely, and was at the same time, almost grateful for it, for she never felt like this before. Sure Tiff had been horny before, of COURSE she had, but here it was far more intense; in a man’s arms, surrounded by a man’s scent, and feeling manhood against her womanhood. Having heard something so nice even though the words could almost be considered sexist, it made her feel wild. The temptation was very real to reach down and feel that cock in her hand for the first time, to feel a cock for the first time.

  Richard gave a little chuckle at hearing her curse knowing why she had done so. Referring to a woman as ‘one’, that it was nice to have one, it almost sounded like a woman was an item to be had, to be enjoyed, yet she did not care, nor did she feel that’s what he meant. Even if it WAS what he meant though, she still didn’t care, because she had a man here with her, she had ‘one’, and it’s what she wanted right now. The right hand that cupped her jaw still, stroking the cheek, slipped down; she knew already where it was going… and welcomed it.

  It went down past the cushiony material of her bra, slipped under one of the loose rings, within the warmth between mammary glands and the material that had previously bound them close to her body, and so could feel the softness therein. He planned to merely tease her a little, to further arouse this pent up woman, to have his hand skim along the flesh of those sensitive creations that only God could have devised. He DID feel the stiffness of her nipples, but soon his hand was engulfed. She had leaned away from him slightly as the hand went down, to let him gain easy access, but now that his hand was there, she pressed herself against him, trapping the hand between his chest and hers. There was only one thing to do now that the prospect of gentleness was gone from him, taken, and so he squeezed.

  “Ooohmnnnn…” A blatant moan from Tiff and he gave a deep breath in and out, relishing in this sensation. His body was moving, hips bucking back and forth slightly, grinding his member against her crotch. She was hugging him desperately, left leg coming up over his hip, curling around him, giving his hard cock more access to her crotch and making it easier to grind into her. She was grinding back. His body rotated, nature was now taking over for the both of them; he was on top of her, between her legs, and she still hugged him close. The man’s crotch came down onto the woman’s, that meddlesome fabric still in the way, and both of them wished it gone. His stiff manhood was being grinded up against her lips, and though he was not yet inside her she was feeling pleasure, but it was teasing; she wanted MORE!

  His upper body lifted, pushed up by his strong arms, she lifted as well for a moment from hugging him so tightly but finally let go of his torso, falling back down to the bed. His right arm rose to get that bra off but she was already getting rid of it as soon as her arms were freed. It hadn’t been gone for two seconds before he dove down, crotch coming away from hers, her hips were moving beneath him of their own volition under no control of hers. His lips clamped down on her hard left nipple, he sucked, and her back arched, a moan leaving her which she made no attempt to stop.

  “Richard… ohhh Richey please, don’t tease me, no more… no more… mmmMMMMmmm…” Her whole body was writhing as though he were in bed with a snake; a voluptuous feminine snake, and he continued to suckle, left hand came up to her right breast, squeezed, then pinched the nipple. “mmmmoooOOOOOO…” it was a moan that started with closed lips, but opened out of utter want, need, and desire. It had started low, and then she forced it to go louder, a verbal complaint that they were still in the stage of foreplay.

  “Tiffany, baby, you keep moaning like that and I might just bust a nut before I even get in ya…” the eroticism was in his voice as well; deep, gravelly, and yet somehow soft. He was crawling down her under the blankets, out of sight; she could feel him kissing her on the way down, along the base of her breast, on her belly, down past her belly button, steadily lower.

  “No no, Richard don’t, please, I… uh… uhn… NNNN… mmmmOH! OHHHhhhhhh… yes… yes baby, ohhhh yes-mmmmmMMMMM!” The sight from outside the bed was obscene, her breasts exposed in the cool air, jiggling as she twitched, moved, and moaned. Legs clearly open, and between them, the bulk of his upper body, lower half having left the bed and now stood at the base of it. He was performing cunnilingus, the thing he had most
consistently been complimented on in his sexual lifetime, and by the sounds from her it was evident he still had the knack.

  The man had slipped her panties off much to her horror for she knew he was close to it, and she was terrified that he would catch the smell, that he might not like it. True, it wasn’t exactly ‘fresh’, but the panties came off all the same, he used them to rub her cunt, essentially scooping much of her wetness away and out from between the lips of her pussy. One event was recalled, probably over 6 years ago; he had slept with a girlfriend he had at the time.

  She had awoken him with a hand job, which was a huge fetish of his. He was a beast when he had awoken to find her rubbing him, and being a lover of licking pussy, flew straight down between her legs. SAVAGELY he licked at her in those early morning hours, but his head then stopped dead, and the next thing they knew he had leapt out of the bed, out the bedroom door, flew through the hallway and into the washroom, ran the cold water, and was washing his mouth out. Something BURNED… it physically hurt, he could not describe it but whatever was in her pussy had made his tongue hurt MADLY. Obviously the moment was ruined, but he learned from it, and hoped that this action of getting her stale wetness out of the way will have saved him from being burned again.

  His mouth came down to her pussy, feeling for the first time a bush against his nose, and her femininity was strong here, her scent, and though it was potent, he loved it. The taste, whether it was good or bad it was hard to tell; he had pussy before which was SO unbelievably enjoyable that he could happily live in their panties for the rest of time. Most times he went down on said woman that burned him it was enjoyable; she had a neutral flavour and scent. Then there was another which, often times, it was unpleasant to both senses, but still he went down on her from time to time.