Andrea flicked her tongue in his ear. “Really! How so?”
Doug felt fingers of pleasure rock through him as Andrea ran her tongue through his ear. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”
“Where do you live,” Andrea whispered. She kissed his earlobe.
“High Sierra’s.”
Tiffany sat up in bed. “Geez, that’s a long way.”
Doug rose, too. “At least just come with me for a couple of days. I’ve got all the conveniences of modern technology and everything works.” He spilled out a rough list of how his place was set up, including the generator, the phone line, and the computer setup. Both girls perked up at the sound of it. Doug grinned and rubbed Tiffany’s shoulders. “Just for a few days. You’ll love it.”
“I don’t know,” Tiffany said. She turned to Andrea, who was lying on her stomach, her rump jutting in her air, legs bent upward at the knees. “What do you think?”
Andrea pursed her lips in contemplation. “Sounds okay to me.” She looked up at Doug. “You’ll bring us back in a couple of days?”
“Honey, after seeing what I’ve got at my place, you’re not gonna want to come back,” Doug chuckled.
Tiffany and Andrea traded glances. Doug smiled and Tiffany giggled. “Well, then, let’s go.”
An hour later they were winging their way out of the empty, dead city of Los Angeles to the mountains.
HE WAS RIGHT about their reaction when they got to the house. They were more than amazed; they were astounded.
The girls looked in awe at the massive living room, the huge dining room, and the downstairs rumpus room filled with toys, pinball machines, a large pool table, and other electronic gadgets. They marveled at the wide screen TV and the fact that it worked; they ooohhed over his massive collection of videotapes, DVDs, compact discs, and books. They were equally impressed with his massive kitchen and its supplies. Andrea squealed with delight when she opened the freezer and found a frozen pizza. To appease her, and their growing appetite, Doug put the pizza in the oven. Then he steered his guests out toward the back patio.
Once at the patio, they ahhed at the awesome sight his perch had over the mountain range. His house was situated on a crag that overlooked the main pass coming up the Sierras, and if you looked due west you could see the rolling hills of the San Joaquin Valley. It was an awesome sight to behold.
He took them down into the woods that consisted of his property and showed them the generator. He showed them the stream that ran by it and explained how it worked. He pointed out the massive satellite dish that sat next to his home; it brought in the phone line, and it used to bring in over five hundred channels from all over the world. The girls were doubly impressed.
They ate the pizza Doug had put in the oven with all the zeal and excitement of children spending an afternoon at Chuck E. Cheese. Neither of them had had a pizza in . . .well, gosh, in over a year, since the first zombie rose from its grave and bit through the first wandering human. In Los Angeles there had been plenty of frozen pizzas that had thawed out when the electricity died but with all the power gone, savoring their taste was something that could only be reminisced. Doug smiled and put another pizza in the oven and brought out two cases of Dos Equis. He reached underneath the cabinet in the kitchen and produced a bag of powdery substance that brought a squeal out of both girls. Pizza, beer, and coke—three great tastes that taste great together!
They munched and drank, babbling excitedly. Doug grinned. The girls were acting like they were in Donald Trump’s mansion. And to them, this was a mansion. Those that had survived the zombie plaque sure didn’t have luxuries like running water.
When they had eaten their fill, Doug rolled up a crisp, ten thousand dollar bill. Tiffany nearly babbled with excitement. “Jesus Christ, Doug!” Her eyes sparkled, her smile dimpled her cheeks. “So that’s how you were able to get such a bitchin’ place?”
Doug handed her the rolled up bill and winked at them. “There’s more where this came from, baby. Not that this money stuff is worth anything these days.”
DOUG WAS RIGHT about Tiffany and Andrea wanting to stay longer than a few days.
The first two weeks at the mountain retreat was spent languidly fucking, eating, sleeping, snorting coke, fucking, sleeping some more, fucking again, eating, drinking, partaking in some more toot, fucking some more, and, well, fucking. The two of them provided a workout that Doug never thought he would go through again with a woman. After the first night he thought his dick was going to fall off from the sheer exertion of the strange contortions they were putting it through. He was having sex everyday, if not with both of them at the same time, then with one or the other. Because they were bisexual, it spurned him on even further. There were moments when all the energy was drained from his body, but the sight of Tiffany eating Andrea’s pussy with her tender little ass poking up in the air brought the divining rod between his legs to full attention. It was always enough for a quick romp from behind.
Doug drove them down to Los Angeles two weeks later to gather their things. They really didn’t need that much, Tiffany said, just their keepsakes. Photos of their late boyfriends and parents, friends. Trinkets. Doug didn’t mind, and they were back at the house by darkness, enjoying another night of sex and coke.
The days seemed to pass quickly for Doug. Mornings consisted of awakening to the smell of frying bacon or perking coffee, one of the girls in the kitchen while the other lay nestled next Doug. He would awaken and sometimes, if the mood was right, make love to whoever was in bed with him. After breakfast he would do immediate chores while the girls lounged in the den, watching a movie on the big screen TV, or blasting the stereo. Andrea was the bookworm, and preferred quiet mornings in the library. Tiffany usually warmed up in the morning with a Cher video, and around noon they met at the back porch for a light lunch usually prepared by Andrea. Then it was whatever struck their fancy for the rest of the day and evening. Sometimes they went on romps through the woods, or accompanied Doug into the little town fifty miles down the winding, steep valley road to stock up on provisions. Movies and music were almost always on the agenda, and Tiffany told him that she could probably watch every single videocassette and DVD he had for a year and still not get through all of them. Doug had what amounted to a store full of videos and DVDs; his collection had grown since the plague.
But more often than not, their evenings ended up engaging in sex and partying, usually until the wee hours of the morning. The coke that Doug had was one of two dozen kilos he had accumulated over the past two years, gained from a dealer that also supplied him with a steady amount of marijuana, which Doug had started growing himself shortly after the zombie plague. The girls dipped into that stash too, usually in the early evening. Getting stoned always helped arouse the nerves and brought heightened climax to their lovemaking.
To Doug, it was heaven. How many guys would love to be able to fuck two gorgeous women with perfect breasts every night, anytime they wanted to?
And so the lifestyle continued into the summer months.
DOUG BEGAN TO sense that something wasn’t right toward the end of August.
The past couple of weeks had been filled with slightly tense moments. For the first time in almost two months, Tiffany started suggesting insane ideas that they pop down to Los Angeles and bring some of their friends out. Doug squashed that idea in a hurry. Andrea seemed to side with Tiffany, and they went around that topic for a good portion of a night. We just want to see some of our friends again, was the excuse. Well then, we’ll drive down for the day and visit, was Doug’s reply. No, they wanted to do more than that. They wanted to bring people up from L.A. to party. Well, what’s the matter with what we have already?
“Don’t get us wrong,” Tiffany said. They were seated on the cream colored couch in the recreation room. The VCR was unrolling Terminator 2. “We love it up here, and we love you.” She winked at him, smiling broadly, and Andrea second the motion with a kiss on his cheek. He was sandwiched
between the two women as they explained their situation to him. “But . . . well, we kind of miss our friends, and we just thought it would be nice to have a big party up here.”
“And then they would want to stay, and you would needle me into letting them.” Doug knew what they were getting at and, by God, he wasn’t going to let that happen. “The reason I built this house in the first place was to avoid all that live-fast-make-a-pretty-corpse bullshit lifestyle. So, no way, I am not throwing a big raging party for hundreds of people I don’t even know.”
“Don’t you even want to talk to other people, get to know what’s going on?” This, from Andrea. “Make new friends, meet new people?”
“I don’t want to make friends and meet other people.”
“Well, suppose we do?”
Now Tiffany joined in. “We love it up here Doug, and we like being with you, but we just can’t stay cooped up here. We need to...interact with other people every once in awhile. Play the field.”
Doug snorted. “Ha! So that’s what you wanted all along.”
Andrea sighed. “All the old moral codes are gone now, Doug. We’re not legally bound to you in any way, nor are you to us. We don’t mind that we’re sharing you, and personally, I would like it if I had more than one male lover right now.”
“Me, too,” Tiffany said, quietly.
This threw Doug into a rage, but he contained it. His cheeks grew beet red, his eyes flared righteous anger. He rose suddenly from the couch, his hands curling into fists. “It figures. I give you everything you could possibly want, yet you still want to...want to—”
“Fuck other guys?” Tiffany’s tone was ice. She leveled her sea blue eyes to meet his. Both girls were wearing shorts, bikini bras and nothing else. Couple their looks with their tone and anger, and they looked like Amazon bitches that weren’t going to take shit. “Yeah, to be quite frank with you, Doug, I would like to fuck other guys. Just as I’m sure you’d like to fuck other women.”
“That’s not true,” Doug retorted.
“Bullshit.” Now Andrea rose and stormed toward the French windows that overlooked the back deck. Tiffany joined her, leaving Doug to pace the floor of the recreation room. What the hell was wrong with them? He had given them everything they could possibly want, or need, and now they wanted to sample other pleasures. He had been nothing but kind and generous to them, loving and caring. The last few months had brought Doug to a feeling of closeness with them. Andrea and Tiffany were the first women he’dever felt this way towards; if the institution of marriage still existed, he would have done it with them in an instant. Because marriage was now a long disposed of issue, bigamy could only be much easier. You could love two women equally, and he loved both of them more than he had ever loved anyone. He told them that time and time again. Didn’t they understand that?
For the first time in almost three months they spent the evening in near stony silence.
THEY TOOK DOUG that night.
Doug seemed to switch from brooding, to lustful at the moment Andrea stroked him beneath the covers. Doug had tumbled into bed by himself, leaving the girls to simmer downstairs. Now they joined him in bed, waking him up with their expressions of affection. Doug woke up to a raging hard-on, Andrea’s hand stroking him expertly, Tiffany’s lips and tongue trailing wet kisses down his bare stomach. Doug turned over and took them into his arms; the argument was all but forgotten now.
The girls played this out, leading him along a cascade of endless sex as positions were switched, orifices were probed and entered, nipples and lips were kissed. Doug surrendered completely to them, yielding to their every whim.
When it was over the girls watched Doug slip into a deep sleep and traded glances. Neither had made verbal plans, but the same thought was running through their minds. They were acting on pure instinct now, letting everything run its course.
Andrea scrambled off the bed and out of the room. She emerged a moment later with a baseball bat. Tiffany scuttled off the bed quickly as Andrea cocked the bat behind her head like Hank Aaron poising for a homerun and then whack! The fat end of the bat hit the top of Doug’s skull. The impact sent reverberations of the blow up Andrea’s arm. Doug made a choking sound and was out, his breathing seeming to rise quickly, than stop altogether. There was dead silence for a moment as the girls stood frozen with bated breath, waiting for some signal of death to emit from Doug’s now bashed head. Tiffany could barely make out the trickles of blood oozing from Doug’s skull in the gloomy darkness, but she knew from his crumpled look and still chest that Andrea’s first swing had more than done the job. Doug was deader than a doornail.
Tiffany looked up at Andrea with rising glee. Andrea raised her left hand in victory, the right still holding the bloodstained bat. She let out a war whoop, and a moment later both girls were laughing, hugging each other, laughing so hard that tears spilled down their cheeks.
“We did it!” Andrea squealed. She kissed Tiffany, smack, on the lips, and Tiffany returned it enthusiastically. Andrea beamed at her lover, their arms encircling each other’s waists, their breasts touching. “We did it, babe. We did it, and this place is ours, the jeep is ours, everything is ours!”
“And we can go back to L.A. and bring Bruce and Janie and everybody from Club Dead back,” Tiffany echoed.
“And we’ll have one big party, and we can bring anybody we want to.” Andrea was so happy, she was practically glowing.
The implications of what their lives would be like now in this castle-like home hit Tiffany like an explosion. It would be wonderful, like heaven. The warmth of their lovemaking still coursed through her veins, and she could still feel Doug’s seed trickling between her legs, inside her. The feeling bubbled within her, made her take Andrea in her arms and kiss her passionately. Andrea cupped Tiffany’s face in her hands and kissed her back, remained lock in her embrace as the kiss waxed and waned.
When they came up for air, they were panting. “I love you, Andrea,” Tiffany breathed.
“I love you, too,” Andrea said.
“Let’s get Doug out of here now.”
They did it. They rolled Doug’s body off the bed and dragged him by his arms across the floor and out of the house. They dragged him out to the porch, down the stairs and laid him to rest beside the big oak tree that towered next to the cabin. Tiffany laid a green tarpaulin cover over him and smiled. Both girls were still nude, their skin goosefleshing from the cool mountain breeze. Tiffany tweaked Andrea’s puckered nipples and kissed her again. “We’ll bury him tomorrow,” she said. She was beginning to feel hot for Andrea all over again. “Right now I want you to take me down.”
Back into the house, through the kitchen and that was as far as they got. They didn’t even make it back to the bedroom, their passion and hunger for each other was so strong. They took each other in the kitchen, on the big table, and made love to each other until they sank into deep sleep.
MORNING.
Tiffany emerged from the bathroom wearing one of Doug’s chambray shirts and nothing else. Andrea was just beginning to stir in the early morning sun. They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms on the living room floor, and now the sun beat golden light through the window on their makeshift bed. Andrea smiled up at Tiffany, her eyes lush with love. “Hi!”
“Sleep good?” Tiffany asked, smiling down at her.
“Mmmm. Never slept better.” Andrea raised herself up on her elbows. “And you?”
“Like a baby.” Tiffany moved into the kitchen and rummaged around for a glass of water. Andrea rose and retrieved a T-shirt that had been tossed on the sofa a few days before. She slipped it over her head just as Tiffany came back from the kitchen. Tiffany was sipping on a glass of water. “Well, I guess we should take care of Doug.”
Andrea nodded. “Yep.”
Tiffany set the glass down and together they moved outside and down the steps to where they had laid Doug down last night.
They both stopped at the same time. Tiffany’s heart pou
nded in her chest. Her limbs felt suddenly light. She traded a fearful glance at Andrea, who looked like she’d just witnessed a ghastly crime. The same thought popped into their heads at the same time, sparking an instant rise of fear. “Oh, Jesus,” Andrea said.
Doug was gone from where they had left him last night. Only the tarp remained, with a few dried bloodstains.
It felt like an eternity passed before Tiffany could muster her collectiveness together. “Jesus, Andrea, why weren’t we fucking thinking.” She turned and began trotting up the steps to the back deck. Andrea followed her, more out of fear of being left alone. Tiffany strode across the deck and into the house, Andrea trailing right behind her. Tiffany’s thoughts were running like wildfire. He was dead, he had risen from the dead because he was the undead, they had killed him but not in the way they should have. They needed to arm themselves and find him before he found them. She darted through the kitchen toward the back den where Doug kept his gun collection. One good headshot would be all it would take. “We’ve got to—”
“Got to what, babe?” The voice came from Tiffany’s left, just as she was entering the threshold to the den. Tiffany started, the fear lodging in her throat and stifling her scream.
Doug stood in the darkened hallway, a Remington pump shotgun cradled in his arms. His flint gray eyes blazed with a maniacal fury. Blood caked the left side of his face and stained his left shoulder and chest in a gory mess. Tiffany thought she could see slivers of his skull from the ruined mass of his head. Doug grinned and shambled forward, bringing the barrel of the shotgun to a careful aim. His left arm appeared partially paralyzed, and he rested the barrel of the shotgun across it, holding it firmly with his left hand. He had them frozen in its sight. “Didn’t even check to see if I was dead, did you?” He snickered. “Stupid air-headed bitches.”
The girls stepped back. Tiffany’s throat felt locked up, but she still managed a few words. “Doug, please—”
When the Darkness Falls Page 4