Living amongst the Dead

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Living amongst the Dead Page 15

by J. Morgan


  “Nyeah… yeah… I want you to cum, daddy. I want you to cum all over my hot little kitty.” It made him grin, it was almost comical to him, but he could see that he had found some kind of fetish in her. She was a daddy’s girl, not in the sense that she loved her dad, indeed he didn’t know if she did or not, but she had the fetish of being a daddy’s girl. Her eyes were closed; she was sitting up now, breasts bouncing and jiggling as she viciously grinded her pussy against his cock, hands down on his stomach, sliding up to his chest, and then back, feeling his body hair.

  “Oh daddy you feel so good…” Her hands on his chest, her fingers curled into fists, feeling the harsh chest hairs between them, it pulled at his flesh and made him wince, but he kept on with this fantasy of hers, glad her eyes were still closed so she couldn’t see his moment of mild pain.

  “Yeah baby girl, come on, ride daddy, ride daddy HARD. Oh you feel so good, my angel. You’re such a good girl, such a good little girl!”

  “Yeah daddy I’m a good little girl, I’m your little girl, all yours…” Her features were full of lust as she looked down to him, then quickly closed her eyes as though she had seen something that went against what she wanted to imagine. They soon opened again, seemed to accept him, and she dove down. Her face came to his neck, nestled into the warm crook as she grinded against him, feeling him squeeze her chest.

  “Please daddy, please take me; please take your little angel. Please please pleeeaaaaaase!” She whined and moaned, and as he turned his body, taking her with him, she cried out her plea for him to continue. A mere couple seconds later he was on top of her, grinding his cock against her pussy just as she had been grinding her pussy against his cock.

  “You want to take daddy inside you, sweetie?” Her eyes were filled with lust and desire, looking up at him, writhing underneath, hips rocking back and forth and around and just wishing to have him, to take him inside her.

  “Yeahhhh daddy.” That first word was given out in a long moan, dripping with lust; almost squeaked out of her, making her sound MUCH younger. It was so naughty, and he loved it.

  “Alright, baby girl, remember to say please and thank you, okay? Can you do that for daddy?”

  “Mmmmm, please daddy, pleeeaaaaaase, I want daddy inside me, I want you so much daddy, please daddy I love you so much…” Her eyes flashed open for a moment, a brief instant where the insanity of what she was saying sunk into her, but she had no time to reconsider. As her eyes flashed wide, he was already reaching down, moving his bare cock, and it was slipped inside her tight, wet hole.

  “Ohhhhh thank you, daddy. Thank you so-o-o-o mu-u-u-uch da-a-a-ddyyyYYYYYYYY!” She squealed towards the end as the thrusts built up the pleasure within her; fast and hard, pushing and pushing and pushing into her, making her voice bounce. She hugged him, both her arms and legs tightly grasping him to her; face buried in his upper chest and neck while feeling the coarseness of his body hair against her. He felt the coarse leg hair she had on his lower back but ignored it, unbothered by it; too busy with the pleasurable business at hand. Her depraved squeal of lust drove him to go harder, and that in turn drove her squeal that had gone from whiney-but-normal to the higher pitched level it ended at, but now her voice dropped lower than even her normal adult manner of speaking.

  “Oohhhhhhh God, Richard… ohhhh God…” Much deeper than that and it would have rivaled his own tone. She had dropped character, moaning hot and low as she bounced beneath his thrusts, hugging him more tightly, but only with her arms, not TOO tightly with her legs lest it should affect the rhythm at which he fucked her. He was grunting from the effort already, breathing heavily; fucking her hard and fast. His efforts were clearly not in vain.

  “Yeah baby, my sweet little Tiffany, you feel so damn good, so damn tight…”

  “Richard please, don’t stop, DON’T STOP! KEEP GOING! YEAH! YEAH! MMMNNNNNN!” She shuddered beneath him, her second orgasm of the day, and she couldn’t tell if it was as intense or moreso than the first. Her voice which had been getting high again, suddenly dipped low once more. “Ohhhh God, Richard yes, oh God yes, oh this feels so good, it feels TOOOO… GOOOOOOD!” Her voice went from low to high as she moaned out those two last words. The tone and pitch of her voice was doing loopty-loops it would seem.

  “I’m getting close, Tiff, oh God, I’m gonna cum soon… fuck, your pussy feels so fuckin’ good, baby… so fuckin’ good, I’m gonna cum so hard.” His balls were slapping her ass with each hard thrust, fucking her balls-deep, hearing his grunts, his guttural moans, animalistic, she loved every sound that came from him, made her hotter, made her want this man even MORE!

  “Yes, baby, cum. Cum for mommy, baby.” The voice was high pitched and whiney again, erotically youthful like before, except now instead of calling him daddy which seemed to have turned her on UNBELIEVABLY quickly earlier, she was now calling herself mommy. That was getting a LITTLE too weird for him, but he continued without hesitation, wanting to make this as good as possible for her, knowing that he himself was enjoying it at its utmost.

  “Yeah mommy, you’re going to make me cum so hard mommy…” He tried to make his voice sound a little higher pitched to make him sound more teenage than the mid-late 20s that he was, but it was useless, so continued on with his normal deep tone. His hand reached down, going to grab his cock as he pulled out so he can cum on her hairy snatch as well as on her belly, maybe even reach her tits if he pulled his foreskin back and tensed his cock. Bonus points if it even reached her face, but he doubted it.

  The problem was, her legs were more tightly holding him to her, and he could just barely squeeze his hand between them, feeling his pussy-juice-soaked cock and pubic hairs with his hand; thumb and pointer finger on either side of the base of his cock, but he couldn’t pull out with her holding onto him so hard. “I’m gonna cum, Tiff, I’m gonna cum!” It was said in warning, as in ‘let me go or I’m going to bust my nut inside you’. “I’m gonna cum!” It was almost a sound of panic, but he dared not say ‘let me pull out’ for, inside, he wanted to creampie her, but knew he shouldn’t.

  His hips bucked back, trying to pull out, but it merely pulled her down the bed beneath him. His arms and legs moved, preparing to pull out again, but again she held on tight. The member was swelling, orgasm nearing, release was mere seconds away. “Cum for mommy, baby. Cum for MOMMY!” She was lost in lust and desire, her voice high pitched; begging for his seed, though he doubted she truly knew what was coming. It was no matter. She squeezed him tightly, feet going down to his rear and pushing his hips to make him thrust into her. That was the final straw; the erotic sensation of being PUSHED by her to enter her, and his hips worked of their own accord.

  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom, rapid thrusts, SAVAGE thrusts, and he gave an animalistic groan of a moan from within his throat. She had a beast on her; not a man, or even a human, but a big hairy beast, and she wanted him so badly. “God, gonna c-… MMMmmmmmm…” A final attempt at warning her, but the orgasm had arrived, a loud closed-mouth moan which mellowed out more softly as his cock began throbbing, twitching, pulsating, spurting his hot, warm seed inside her, filling her, into her vaginal passage, into her womb, balls kept bouncing in spite of the thrusts having stopped, pushing the white semen within her and leaking out around his cock to his own crotch.

  “Oh Richard, oh RICHARD! RICHARD! MMMMM!” She cried out, holding him close, feeling the cock inside her swell up and begin spewing its juicy contents within. She hugged him, he hugged her back, locked into each other as pleasure engulfed him, his large body shuddered against hers, the coarseness of his shaking chest feeling fantastic on her breasts, and finally her legs released him, feet falling to the bed, knees up along his hips, then his body went limp.

  His weight was let fall on top of her, to hide her, to shield her from the world, and though her hug softened, as did his, she kept her arms around him. Wishing never to let go, wishing that they could start all over and fuck more but knowing he needed a break, needed a rest, to rechar
ge, and then the realization and regret hit her like a truck. “Oh God…” it was not a moan though, but instead, sad. It was disbelief. It was scratchy, signaling that tears might follow soon, and though he felt weak on her; body racked by blissful release, muscles relaxed, he tried to hug her tight while her face was there at his upper chest/neck.

  “It’ll be ok, Tiffany…” she gave a tiny sob, her hug strengthening in turn, legs shivering on him. “It’ll be alright…” the sobs came for real now, her soft body shaking beneath his, her arms weakening, falling down from around his torso, hands open on his sides, her legs fell down flat, his cock was still in her, twitching, softening.

  “Get off me… please…” was her wish, and it was given softly. He exhaled, something of a sigh of forfeit, seeing that he could not comfort her after what just happened. He gave a shudder of pleasure as he felt his member slip out of her, and turning to his right, now on her side of the bed, she lay on his, just lying back, looking up sadly at the ceiling, some fear on her face. She sniffled. Richard tried to do what he could to help, grasping the towel that had soaked up the liquid from her squirt; he brought a dry portion of it between her legs, wiping up the white semen that was leaking out. She shuddered as the somewhat rough fabric was wiped along her slit, and her hands came to her face, weeping into them.

  “God, how could we do that?...” it relieved him that she didn’t pin the blame on him, after all, he had tried to pull out but she wouldn’t let him. Though to be fair, he didn’t warn of the sobering fact that if she didn’t let him pull out then he would cum inside her. It was obvious but when so lost in pleasure, the mind doesn’t always think at its most logically. “What are you going to do?...”

  “We’ll be ok, Tiff, b’y. We’ll be alright. Hey, I hear that women are only fertile, like, 3 days out of the month or something. You’re probably alright!” It was said softly, gently, and in a friendly manner; obviously trying to cheer her up and to keep her calm. She shuddered and wept all the same. The semen was cleaned from her slit, but pushing the lips open with his thumbs, more continued to dribble out. As her belly bobbed from the crying, slightly jiggling from her softness, it must have put pressure on her vagina for more of the seed was pushed out.

  The woman was too scared to be appreciative of his efforts to comfort her. “I’ll get more out, here, I’ll just…” He brought a finger to her entrance and she pleaded for him to let her go, to stop, to just let her be as the digit was being pushed into her. It made quite a bit more of his cum seep out around it, but then a queef came; the sound of a fart but from her pussy, and a mixture of embarrassed sobbing along with muffled laughter that she did not want to let out, came from the shaking female.

  “Oh-ho-ho nooooo-“ he said in a whiney voice as though a child had just fallen down harmlessly; telling her not to feel bad, “-it’s ok, it’s alright, darlin’.” The finger was wriggling around inside her, spinning about, stirring her up.

  “Mmph, no Richard, please, just stop.” Another queef, her serious face got a smile she could not stop. “STOP! Staw-haw-hawwwwwp…” she begged, but he continued to get more of the cum out. Occasionally it brought out another queef and they laughed when it happened, but he noted how she was reacting to the fingering he was doing solely to help her. It was turning her on; pleasuring her.

  “I’ll take care of you, Tiff…” he didn’t know if it was entirely true. The man didn’t know if he would stay with her because he didn’t entirely trust her. He didn’t know if he could truly protect her from death which they would risk meeting every single day, or if he even wanted to do all that. Their first impressions of one another were God awful, and in the face of death, in SEEING death today, seeing someone die before them, it reminded them of their own vulnerability and mortality. It drove their natural desires to pass on their genes, to carry on their species, to procreate. It made them, as shameful as it was for something like death to bring it, horny.

  So he was not sure if he wanted to stay with her; always nervous, not knowing if she would try to take one of his rifles to try and shoot him again or if she would try and attack him with a knife. Not knowing if she would try to bite his cock off, try to cut it off in his sleep; he just didn’t KNOW. Still, she was scared, of course she was scared. If she got pregnant and had to have the child, there was fuck-all medicine he could give her, fuck-all medical professionals to provide for her, if it happened at night then he would need to find candles to light to keep them illuminated as though it were the 18th or early-mid 19th century.

  He wiped the cum off his hand, and off her pussy, figuring he had gotten a lot of it out but knowing that he’d blew his load DEEP; there was still sperm within her and so she could still very well end up pregnant with his child. Then, lying down next to her, on his side, she still on her back, he started to rub her pussy while suckling her left nipple. Her left hand came up to the back of his head, rubbing his hair as he feasted greedily on her chest. Her hips were bucking back and forth, welcoming the pleasure he provided her in spite of the fear that still wrought at her soul. Soon he would make her cum yet a third time, and then, finally, barely able to see each other in the dying light of the setting Sun, they would sleep. In this soft, warm bed; in each other’s arms, after having had such intense sex, she lay in the security of the big, strong man that she was beginning to possibly fall for. Knowing he was well armed and knew how to handle those arms, it comforted her, and they slept.

  Chapter 5

  It was cold in the morning with a chill in the air hanging from the Sunless night; it would be a good few hours before temperatures rose. Rich awoke before Tiffany did; their positions changed since they fell asleep with his woman facing away from him, he holding her from behind, his morning wood tucked up against her ass crack nice and warm. He peeled his flesh from hers; she stirred in her sleep, but did not rouse. A brief moment of perversion, cock throbbing at her ass, the right arm hanging over her waist came up; fingertip of his right pointer finger went along the soft roundness of the underside of her right breast. A hot breath exhaled, eyes closed, but moved away from her; withdrawing his hand.

  An annoyed sigh was there for his morning wood to be greeted by upon standing, but he knew the erection wouldn’t last. Got dressed; on went his bayonet, bandolier, pack, and rifle. Pistol holstered; he did not yet fully trust her so would not leave her with his valuable gear, but also didn’t have the heart to wake her up. Made sure she was tucked in nice and warm, reflecting that she probably didn’t sleep well in the truck the night before, and so left her alone. First, the fire, he had to get the house warmed.

  From there, things went quickly, like a routine when he had a time to restock. Drank the rest of his water, went out with his pot in hand, got water from the river, put the pot on the fire place and the grave was inspected on the way. Didn’t look stirred by critters; good, but still wished he had rocks of sorts to cover their resting place. He was proud of their ‘grave pan’, or whatever it should be called. It shone; the names and date clear from the holes pierced by his bayonet. It had been laborious and time consuming, but worth it, and he felt pride however soon felt regret; there was no cross on it. Of COURSE there should be a bloody cross on it, but he didn’t have the patience to do it now. Later; it will have to come later.

  Breakfast; two cans of beans? There was the box of pancake mix, though… he checked the box. No eggs needed, no milk needed, just add water. “Golden...” he muttered in approval. A pan was found shortly in a cupboard over the counter in the kitchen. Sadly, no chocolate; he liked putting bits of chocolate in when he made pancakes… no matter. Ooo, butter, he wouldn’t be finding THAT anytime soon. Oil? “Oil oil oil…. oooiiiiiilllLLL!” More nattering to his sleepy self as he found what he was looking for. Obviously the electric stove/oven was out of the question, but maybe, MAYBE, the fireplace would offer enough heat to cook?

  His pot of water was not boiling, but steaming, and dipping a finger in briefly could feel the intense heat. It shouldn’t take much
longer. The hot pan had oil dipped in, and then a bowl was found to make pancake batter using the hot though not yet boiling water. He figured it had heated enough to be clean and safe… hopefully. It’ll be put on the stove again anyways when it came time to cook, so it should be alright. Before long the pancakes were being poured, he was smiling, and it had been so long since he spent this much time doing so.

  She came down the steps, still a bit of a limp; the bottle of Polysporin was already in her bag, intent on keeping it; her foot had been treated again this morning. She was dressed however he took note of what she was dressed IN. A new white jacket, red blouse underneath, a grey pair of pants; it was evident that she was not a morning person. She didn’t scowl at him, but certainly didn’t smile either, however he didn’t think it was from the fact he came in her last night; it was simply her mood this morning.

  “We-he-hell, looky you! Got a fashion show on for me? Go on, gimme a spin!” He addressed her with a wide smile, gesturing at the woman with his spatula; she just stood there in that access between kitchen and living room, staring at him.

  “How about ‘no’?” Evidently, though his cheerful mood wasn’t catching, his cooking had caught her attention. “Pancakes?” she asked curiously. He lifted one half-way, the top half already cooked, the bottom half not quite there but almost.

  “Yyyyup! Don’t worry though, I found a can of dog food in a cupboard so you can have something to eat as well.” Left elbow came out, nudging her, a grin on his face. She nudged him back, finally something that could be approximated as a grin coming to her tired features. “Nah, they’ll be good, you can go in the living room and wait if you wants; I’ll handle breaky this ‘marn.”

  “You’re perky this morning… got some coffee hidden away that you’re not letting me in on?” Tiff was walking away now towards the living room, faint limp, looking quite weary still.

 

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