by J. N. Morgan
The softer of the two bent down and started picking up the brass, Nicky started picking up the shotgun shells, and the two went in with them through the back door. “Pretty sure there was twenty-two of em…” the tall woman whispered.
“Shhh…” the amateur nurse wanted him to rest for as long as possible and as they got closer she noted that he was still breathing… she looked forward to the day when she would no longer have to worry if he was or not.
“I got one… that means he got about 20 or 21 I think…” remembering when she was cleaning up the ‘battlefield’, counting how many there were before starting just to see what she was getting into; it was either 21 or 22. Probably 21 for him and 1 for her which made 22. “So that’s 8 with the rifle… up to 10 with the shotgun… and… that leaves… 3 with the bayonet?” The hushed whispering went on as they stood the casings and shells up on the edge of the coffee table nearest him.
“Something like that. The first two almost made him hurl; they were on this side of the river. On the bridge… there were… two bayoneted I think? Maybe one of the shotgun bullets only killed one?” It was a lot of guesswork, everything had happened so fast that it was hard to remember what was what.
“I still think he’s a fat, ugly, hairy, gorilla-lookin’ sunnuva bitch… but the fucker can fight.” The plump woman disliked the insults directed at him, even if she also thought he was a bit heftier than she liked, and a bit hairier than she liked, but hey, a compliment is a compliment and it was not very often at all that she ever heard Nicky compliment a man. Even if it’s coupled with an insult. Considering she finds the sight of nude men to be repulsive, perhaps it’s to be expected for her to find any negative physical qualities he might have to be amplified.
“Well I still think he’s damn sexy… and yeah… he knows how to deal with the dead. He saved our lives in taking care of all those.” They were leaving again now, heading out towards the front porch and sitting down at the steps where Charlie had last been alive. “You only had those two bullets in your rifle, what would that do against over twenty of those things? You don’t have one of those spikey things. I’d have gotten trapped in the house, they would have probably gotten in eventually, you would have heard me screaming and I assume you’d have tried to help me… we probably wouldn’t have made it.”
“Well, I dunno about all that… I can handle those things pretty good t-”
“Nicky…” the young woman never did like to admit when others were better or better off than her, barely ever tolerated when others claimed to be as good as her at something. It was an arrogance that this new Tiff, this non-feminist Tiff, wanted to break from her. Pride is good, but too much of anything is a bad thing. “I know you’re strong, and that you can fight, but come on. It’s not like he was unarmed either… most of them were taken out with ammo, which gives him an obvious advantage over how you would have done because you don’t even have your scope on ‘Angel’ anymore. You can’t aim. So it’s not like I’m saying that on an even level he would be better than you. He’s just… a bit more equipped. Well, a lot more. If the situation had been the same and he hadn’t have been here, then at least one of us would have died.”
Mentioning ‘equipment’ brought a scowl to her face, almost expecting her to suggest that his cock had something to do with it. Thankfully she was strictly talking about his firearms and ammo. They had sights, hers didn’t. He had plenty of ammo for his rifle and also some for his shotgun, while she only had the two rounds, one of which she used on him. “Well, if I had all that stuff then-”
“Then you’d have done JUST as good…”
“… if not better…” the dark woman muttered.
“If not better…” Tiff gave in mocked agreement, which earned a smile and a shoulder-to-shoulder bump from her friend. “He’s preeeeeetty strong though…” now she was just teasing her.
“Well I’m strong too!” Nicky replied defensively; she had taken the bait.
“Yeah but he’s REALLY strong, I mean, do you have any idea how loud it is when he’s fucking me-”
“Ohhhh, OHHHHH, no, mm-mmm, mm-mmm, stop.”
“He can move me around so easily, squeezing, thrusting-”
“No seriously, Tiffy, stop. STOP! I’m gonna puke here!-”
“His balls slapping me as he humps. Boom-boom-boom-” she was slapping her thigh now, rapidly. Nick had gotten up, hand to her mouth, stumbling forward trying to get away from her.
“Sometimes they’re slapping my ass, or sometimes they’re slapping my chin!”
“Ooooah…. Ooooooooah…” she was dry heaving, rapidly waving her right hand towards the woman who was approaching, begging her not to continue. Tiff laughed and hugged her from behind, knowing the pain she was going through with Richard, but still, happy to have her friend back in spite of it all. She so wanted to let go of her anger and resentment towards the tall young woman, to be buddies like before, hoping that he’ll get better soon so that things can go back to normal but with the addition of Veronica.
“Hahaha, alright, alright, I’ll stop, relax…”
“That shit is nasty…”
“Well no offense, but the thought of us having sex is pretty nasty from my perspective.” Nicky had stood up straight now, no longer hunched over from holding back vomit, hands coming to those around her thin midsection.
“Oh geez, thanks.”
“Hey, I’m only being honest.” The hands came away, and the shorter lady walked back to the porch, sitting down, the taller one following in tow.
“Soon time for Dinner, huh?” Up above their heads the Sun peaked through dark clouds.
“Speaking of that… I know you got us this food, but I’d really like to focus on rationing, not just to make it last longer but also to give Richard what he needs. We could probably split a can of SPAM, and-”
“Really? I was going to have one of those ‘chunky soup’ things…”
“We should save that for him though, that’s probably the best food we have in the house.”
“I know, that’s why I want one… and like you said, I’m the one who brought it here!” There was indignation in it, she’d gone through the trouble, faced the danger, she ought to be able to choose whatever she wants to eat, or at least get one of the two cans of that good stuff.
“Come on, Nicky… pleeaaaaaaase…” the woman leaned over, resting the side of head against her friend’s shoulder. “You do kind of owe him your life… and his…” this was met with an exasperated sigh and a lowering of her head.
“Hahhhhh… alright, look, whatever, but like… can we SPLIT a can at least? I want to try some of it!”
“It’s true that he hasn’t been eating much lately… alright, I think he’ll be ok with that. Deal.”
“What? I meant like, WE split a can, not me and the guy.”
“No way, I’m not touching it, I’ll give my share to him.” It was spoken with utter conviction and confidence, a position that will not be budged.
“Christ, what did that guy do to you? It’s like he’s got you brain washed or mind controlled or something.” The head on her shoulder was shrugged off, lightly pushing her away, feeling that the woman beside her had completely changed and not necessarily for the better, but at least she was still her affectionate old self.
“What did he do to me? Rocked my fuckin’ worl-”
“Ooooah...” Another dry heave, her head going off to her left away from Tiff so as to not potentially puke on her. She laughed out loud, hard, enjoying how easy it was to get to Nick and simply from having herself a man.
“HAHAHAHA! Oh man, I’m enjoying this. I’m gonna head in and check up on Richard. You try not to think about how much of his cum I’ve dran-”
“OOAH- No-no, stop, seriously…” the words were sounding hollow from her throat being opened up, genuinely close to vomiting. Her mouth was starting to water, a warning sign of imminent stomach evacuation. “You REALLY will make me puke if you don’t stop…”
&nb
sp; “Hahaha-alright, I’m sorry Nick, I couldn’t help myself.” With that big toothy smile on her face, her lesbian friend somewhat doubted the sincerity in that apology.
Kneeling down next to him, she checked the bottles of the medication she’s been feeding the man. Still quite a few of each, good, and it was a little past due to give him another dose so picking up the book that her roomie had gotten her, she read as she waited for him to rouse from his sleep, checking his breathing from time to time and feeling the center of his chest to try and feel if he was still warm. The fireplace was restocked, sensing that it might not have been warm enough for him. Laying on the central shelf of the bookshelf she leaned against was that white shirt, or what left of it, cut into bandaging.
Macaws of Death, it was a good novel, starred a female biologist and knew it had a Hell of a twist in the end but still figured it was worth another read. It was much more her speed than the Sharpe’s series. Modern day was much preferred over historical works. It was somewhere around chapter 2 when he had awoken with a start and a groan, shoulder still feeling on fire, left arm moving slowly over towards it. “Shh-shh-shh, it’s ok, Richard…” it was almost speaking to him as though he were a child, but she thought it would be good to speak comfortingly, softly, and gently, especially after what he went through. Almost immediately he looked up to his rifle that was behind him and to his right, in the corner between the bookshelf and the eastern wall. Still there, he relaxed at the sight of it, but pain was still on his face from his shoulder.
“Here, time for more medication, ok?” It wasn’t until now that he had realized someone was next to him, and wide, disturbed eyes darted to her, which brought her aback. “Are you ok, baby?...”
“Oh, Tiff… Christ… scared me…” his breathing had quickened from the fright, but he appeared to visibly relax once he realized it wasn’t Veronica next to him. “More pain-… painkillers… need more…”
“Right here, Richard. Just try not to move your arm, alright?” He lightly scoffed at that, considering how bloody obvious it was, but he did not comment and merely watched as she poured a few pills into her hand from the large bottle of Extra Strength Aspirin. Hopefully three of them won’t hurt… she recalled something about those being blood thinners or anti-inflammatories or something like that, but had no clue if going a little bit over the prescribed dose with someone who was lacking blood would be harmful. He was a big guy though, and people with more body mass can usually handle drugs better than smaller people… it should be ok. He was asking for more after all.
“Three?”
“At least… tempted to… have four but… I dunno… here…” he beckoned for her to give them to him, and so one at a time, popped them into his mouth, fed him water, and they were being swallowed, followed by another antibiotic.
“Thank God Veronica brought all this…” she muttered, looking down at the bottles with a smile.
“Yeah… well I’d be… content… if she never… shot me at… all, but still… she is… trying-to-make-up…” wishing to get it all out in one last breath, he mashed the last four words together and she was so happy to see that he recognized her honest attempts to right the wrong she had done, or at least doing it to try and keep from losing her short friend.
“So… do you feel any better, baby?” Her hand came to his chest, outside the blanket, and rubbed him, steering clear from the wound and going slowly and softly.
“Well I’m… moving my good arm… now… and I’m not fee-… feeling quite so… weary or… dizzy.”
“Great! That’s great! I’m so glad you’re beginning to feel better. Don’t worry, Nurse Tiffy will have you back on your feet in no time…” she leaned forward and whispered, “so I can get back on my back…” he grinned, still looking pale, but she was just glad that he still had a sense of humour as well as the desire to ‘get back to business’ with her. Make him optimistic for the future, keep his spirits high, or at least keep them from dipping too low as they have already done before. Then the smile suddenly faded.
“Tell her… not to go… near my things…”
“I know, baby, I know… she forgot, that’s all. She feels bad for freaking you out like that, and… well… hahh…” an sigh of confliction, not knowing whether to say it or not. She leaned forward a little again, returning to whispers. “Don’t tell her I told you this, but she apologized to me for what she did, not just… that…” she looked at his shoulder, then back to his brown eyes, “but for yelling at you the morning after, for reaching towards your gu-… rifle…” a smile flashed and her eyebrows raised to him, pointing out that she was learning, and he smiled in turn, nodding his approval. “Just don’t tell her I told you, ok?... she’s um… a little stubborn…”
“Needs to work… on her accur-… accuracy… too… heheh-oooo…” a chuckle followed by another groan of discomfort. The drugs seemed to be kicking in, though. They work fast. Making fun of the fact she got him in the shoulder rather than the head or torso… she thought it brave for him to poke fun at it. Innocent fun of course, or at least she hoped so, otherwise his comment was a discretely shared wish that he hadn’t survived the ordeal. Hopefully that wasn’t the case.
“I’m sure she wants to learn more from you, you know. You do know a lot. I mean, I thought she was a whiz on this gun stuff, but by the sounds of what she says, you’re on a whole other level… again… don’t tell her I-”
“Said that… gotcha…” she laughed at him finishing her sentence, rubbing his chest more affectionately but the added pressure had moved his flesh a bit too much, lightly tugged at his shoulder. “Aaagh!… nnh… please…”
“I’M SORRY!” she cried back, her face instantly reflecting her apology, hands coming up as fists to her mouth and well away from him.
“Don’t… rub me that… hard… until you’ve got… my cock in…” she was already grinning at him, “… your hand…” She bent over at the waist, head and fists still in position, but coming down to his torso giggling at him.
“I’m so sorry, hahah… mmm…” her head turned, looking at him, his head craned down to try and see her though having difficulty, but her face none the less showed the affection she had for him. “I can’t wait… all that pent up cum you have building up… you know I’m gonna want it all, right?”
“Mmmmm…” a deep rumble of a moan in him, his head falling back onto the cushion, then in an equally deep and rumbly voice, spoke. “And you’ll get ih-… it too…” her hand crept under his blanket, up along his hip.
“I think it’s time for Nurse Tiffy to make an inspection… to make sure you’ve still got all your faculties…” it wasn’t long before the hand was to his crotch, feeling the coarseness of the lonely hairs on his scrotum, brushing along it until she got to his completely flaccid member, flipping her pointer finger under it, rotating the hand so that it pointed up and bringing her thumb up around along his bush, brought it down onto the top of the penis, and so with thumb, pointer, and middle fingers, she began lightly stroking him.
“Ohhh, Tiffany… believe me… I want it… but I… don’t think… we should…”
“Want what? I’m just making sure you can feel it… can you?” The stroking continued, and she thought she could feel it swelling a bit from her touch.
“Yes, now plea-… please stop…” his breathing was getting slower and deeper. She didn’t want to stop, she wanted to rub harder, rub longer, to feel his modest flaccid size grow into those several marvelous inches that she loved. Knowing that this was probably not the time though, the hand slipped out from under the blanket.
“Just something to remind you what you’re fighting for, ok?...” she kissed his cheek, or at least she tried, but he turned, and caught her lips. It surprised her and she moaned accordingly, but the moan came to mean something completely different as the kiss went on and she cupped his face. His head turned away from hers suddenly, taking in a few breaths. She was just getting started… and looked sad at how difficult he found
mere making out to be. The door opened and she sat bolt upright, looking at the blanket at his crotch, eyes widening as she noticed he had swollen larger. Eyes darted around for something she might put on it to hide it. The bandages were grabbed and tossed there. He twitched at feeling the light but sudden weight on his groin.
“What the-?”
“Shh.” The young woman’s face came around the corner to check on the two in the living room.
“Hey, just wanted to grab something to eat.” She whispered, not sure if he was up or not; his head was lying back so it was difficult to see if his eyes were open or not.
“Yeah sure, he’s up now so no need to whisper.”
“Oh good…” an awkward silence, she didn’t know what else to say, so just went to the coffee table to grab the can of chunky soup… stopping with her hand over it, not seeing that Tiff was watching, who smiled as the hand moved over to the SPAM. “Hungry?”
“Yeah, thank you…” it was a more earnest show of gratitude than half a can of SPAM deserved; she knew it was in regard of her leaving the better food for the man she shot.
“No problem.” He seen in his peripherals the tall woman heading to the kitchen.
“Vera…”
“Veronica… what’s up?” The younger one corrected him.
“I like… Vera…” her eyes rolled as she looked down on him. “You still… want to… learn how to… reload?”
“Sure!” It was an honest answer as well, she really did, even if he used a nickname she didn’t particularly care for. Made her think of an old white woman, not a young black woman… though granted… Veronica didn’t sound like a very black name either but she liked it. Made it work, and particularly liked ‘Nicky’, there was a spunkiness to ‘Nicky’, a go-getter quality to it. She didn’t think it really fit Adam Sandler, even a demonic version of himself.