by Natalie Foxx
I join in again, kissing Maggie and touching her clit with my fingers as Deon penetrates her. At the same time, she reaches her fingers down on me, making sure I stay warmed up, I’m next.
No, Deon is the one who’s next. He’ll be taken tomorrow, so they can try to save him, but they won’t be able to. Then after a month or so, I’ll be next, and life will be over. We’re all next. We’re all dying.
Deon grabs me and pushes me down, on top of Maggie. He pulled his penis out of her, and now he’s going to put it in me. Maggie kisses me as our boobs touch and our wet, warm underbodies also touch. Then Deon gets behind me, and slowly he pushes his dick inside me. It is a big, chocolate colored dick, bigger than any other dick I’ve ever had inside of me, and it always surprises me how big it is. I have to bite my lip not to moan. Deon starts going in and out, pushing my body forwards and backwards on top of Maggie. My hand goes down Maggie’s body and returns the favor, keeping her also warm, not letting her take a break. That’s what’s so special about threesomes, they’re always going on, if one of them isn’t touching you, the other one should be, and you should always be touching someone. The world would be a better place if everyone lived by this rule.
I stick two fingers inside of her. It’s so wet and warm. And it feels just like when I masturbate, except that’s it’s another vagina, another person. I’m not a lesbian, I never thought I would be doing this, but I like it. Maggie gives me a kiss as a thank you, and I kiss her a you’re welcome. And I wish I could turn around to kiss Deon a thank you. A thank you for fucking me, for loving me, for being with me when I was scared, for being a good friend. I want to kiss him a good bye. I pull out and turn around to kiss his salty lips. It was supposed to just be a kiss, but it turns into another sex position. Maggie pulls my legs towards her face, so I’m kneeling on top of her and her mouth can kiss my vulva. Then, as Deon and I are kissing, he starts fucking Maggie, while Maggie fucks me with her mouth. It’s a pyramid, or at least it looks like one.
Deon plays with my boobs and I hold his shoulders to keep balance. It’s really hard to not fall down when Maggie’s tongue is inside me. There are two tongues inside of me now, Maggie's and Deon’s. I can’t even begin to imagine what having a threesome with two guys would feel like, when instead of two tongues it’s two penises. Or, well, it would be two tongues and two penises. I’ll have to add a male, male, female threesome to my bucket list, it must feel amazing.
Shit.
My bucket list.
The number one thing on my bucket list right now is to survive, after that everything is a plus. I can forget about going to France, skydiving, getting married, having kids. I can forget about everything I ever wanted to do. I can forget about living.
“Don’t,” Deon whispers to me, wiping a tear from my eyes. “Don’t cry tonight.” I’ve cried before while we have sex, I can’t help it sometimes. It’s such a weird feeling, to feel so good but to know it won’t last much longer, or that it might not happen again. “Do it for me.” Then I see something on his face I hadn’t seen before, it’s fear, it’s the need to cry, it’s what I see when I see my reflection in the mirror. Deon always tries to look strong, to look fearless, and it has helped me. Whenever I’m freaking out I go to him and he looks so secure and sure of himself that it makes me believe things will be okay. But today, right now, I’m realizing it’s all an act. That he’s also scared. That he also knows it’s almost over. Maybe that’s why he’s so brave, because there’s nothing to fear. It’s done already, we’re all going to die. He will die soon, and then I’ll die shortly after, and then everyone who’s infected will die, and maybe the whole world will die. There’s nothing we can do, so we shouldn’t be afraid, but we still are.
I nod and swallow my sadness away. Deon pulls out of Maggie and moves us around, so he can fuck me instead. I’m on all fours, with my face to Maggie’s vagina, which I try to lick and suck, but it’s getting harder because I’m reaching my orgasm. Without teasing or starting out slow, we’re all warmed up already, Deon starts fucking me hard. He grabs me by my hips and thrusts in faster and harder than he has ever fucked me before.
It hurts, it does, but it feels good too. And tonight is Deon’s night. Tonight I’m his, we’re his, me and Maggie, because it’ll be the last time he gets to have something, to be something, to be human. We’ve already lost most of our humanity, but tomorrow morning Deon will lose what was left of his. No! I can’t be thinking like this. I have to be strong. Tonight I have to be what Deon has been to me the last few weeks. I have to make him believe things will be okay.
“Harder,” I tell him, whispering. “Faster.” For a second Deon is confused, as if he wasn’t sure he heard me right, but as soon as he realizes he starts fucking me as hard as he can. Every time he thrusts my face hits Maggie’s vagina. “Come one,” I say and Maggie holds me by the shoulders so I stay in place, so Deon can do me better.
I look to a side, we’re making too much noise because I can see open eyes, but I don’t care. It’s Deon’s last night, so I don’t care about anybody else.
I moan. I break the rules and I moan and this slows Deon down.
“Don’t stop,” Maggie tells him, vicariously getting closer and closer to her orgasm. Deon doesn’t stop, he keeps fucking me, and I want him to keep fucking me forever. I’m cumming. I don’t want to be done, I don’t want him to be done, because then it will all be done. He will have to leave in the morning. But he can’t hold it, he can’t stop it, the same way we can’t stop being sick.
He pulls out and I turn around, and Maggie and I crawl forward quickly, towards his penis. Deon strokes it, hard, and I give it one last kiss before he starts coming on my face, and Maggie’s boobs, and my mouth, and Maggie’s mouth. She gives it a last suck while I stroke it for her. This will be the last time I ever taste cum.
After cleaning up, we lay in our beds, cuddling, naked, speechless. Maggie on one side of Deon and me on the other side. There isn’t a clock, and there isn’t a window, so we don’t know what time it is. But we know the morning is coming. We know it’s almost time.
“Deon,” I say, staring at the darkest corner of the room. “I want you to know that I love you.”
Nobody says anything after that, and I guess I fall asleep because I start having dreams of what life should have been like if we hadn’t gotten sick. Deon, Maggie and I are hanging out between classes, joking, having fun, talking about the party we’re going to that weekend. The whole time I stare at Deon, in love, wanting to be honest with him, to tell him how I feel, to see if we can go out on a date, to see if we can be something more than friends. Nothing happens in that dream.
Then, I’m awake. I open my eyes and I’m back here in the hospital, in my bed out of the twenty two beds in this tiny small sealed room. I hear a noise, conversation, doctors, and when I realize what it is I get up and look. They’re taking Deon away in their germ-proof suits. Maggie is awake too, looking at them leave. Deon walks calmly with them, knowing there’s nothing to do. We’re not really prisoners, even though we can’t leave. They’re really trying to save us. We have to cooperate to see if we can survive, and help millions of sick people survive. Deon looks back at me with half a smile.
“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he tells me. The door opens and they take him away forever. In a couple of weeks the doctors will announce his death, and short after that they’ll be announcing my death.
That night Maggie and I don’t have sex, we just lay down in our beds, staring at the ceiling. Maybe we’ll have sex again, when the doctors tell us Deon is gone. Maybe. Probably. I still need it. I still need Deon.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Maggies says to me, without looking at me. “We don’t have to die in here.” In Maggie’s voice I can hear Deon. I think Maggie loved him too. “If we’re going to die anyways, why can’t we spend our last free weeks actually living?”
I think about it. I think what it would be like to be alive again.
“What can we do?” I ask her, and after a while she answers.
“We can run away…”