by Claire Kent
“Y-yeah. Now is good.” His cheeks are flushed slightly, and his back is stiff. His eyes never leave me as I take a step closer to him.
I’m not exactly sure what to do, but his steady gaze is doing something wild to my insides. I lean over to carefully take off my leggings, and then I’m standing in front of him in just my tank and white cotton panties.
His gaze moves up and down quickly and then returns to my chest. Then my groin. I see a flash of heat in his eyes, and it reassures me.
He does want this. He’s just cautious. Worried about overstepping lines.
But he does want this.
And I do too.
I take a step even closer until his knees brush against my legs. His head is at the level of my neck.
He reaches out and gently touches my sides. I feel his hands through the fabric of my top. He slides them up slowly until he’s nudging the underside of my breasts. Both of us stare at his hands as his fingers move up to delicately tweak my nipples, which are jutting out against the worn cotton.
I gasp at the tug of sensation.
His eyes shoot up to my face. “You sure ’bout this?”
“Yes. I’m sure. Please. Touch me. I want to feel something... good.”
He takes the bottom of my top in both hands and pulls it off over my head. My breasts bounce free, and Travis makes a strange sound in his throat as he stares at them.
He reaches for my breasts again, this time nothing between his callused skin and mine.
I shift from foot to foot, that coil of heat between my legs intensifying.
He explores my body like this for a long time. Touching me softly, carefully. My breasts. My stomach. My arms. When his hands finally return to my chest, he rolls my nipples beneath his thumbs, and I arch my back into them with a gasp.
My knees are getting shaky. I hold on to his shoulders for support.
He cups my bottom over my panties and pulls me closer, fitting me between his legs. Then he takes one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking and flicking it with his tongue.
I whimper and dig my fingernails into his shoulders.
The pulsing of my arousal is everywhere now. I feel it from my toes to my eyes. I’ve been turned on before, but it hasn’t felt like this. I let out another whimper as his teeth graze the skin above my nipple.
He lets me slip from his mouth and pulls back enough to study my face.
“Travis,” I whisper.
“You like it?”
“Yeah.” My face is burning and my head is buzzing, and I’m throbbing between my thighs. “I’m getting...”
“Good.” He leans forward again to suckle my other breast, and this time one of his hands slides down from my bottom. He squeezes the back of my thigh and keeps squeezing until gradually his fingers tuck into the cleft between my legs, brushing over the fabric of my panties.
I’m wet. I suddenly realize it. He might even be able to feel it.
I make an embarrassing sound as my hips start to grind against the feel of his fingers.
“You do like it,” he mumbles, sounding vaguely surprised as he gives my nipple a quick little tug.
“Y-yeah. Yeah, I do.” I’m panting and starting to sweat and swaying on my feet, leaning against his shoulders so I don’t fall down.
He pulls back to stare up at me again. “You do want this.”
“I told you.”
Something happens to his expression that makes it clear he’s finally accepted it, that he believes this is something I genuinely want.
“How ’bout you lie down for me now?” He eases me back and stands up to pull his T-shirt off over his head. He’s been aroused since I first took off my leggings, but he’s fully erect now, the length and girth of him clearly visibly beneath his loose sweats.
I step over to pull down the comforter and top sheet and lie down on the bed, kicking the covers out of the way.
I feel naked in only my panties. Vulnerable as his urgent gaze crawls over me. I’m aching with need and having trouble staying still.
I shift my hips and fist my fingers in the fitted sheet beneath me.
Travis moves onto the bed beside me, still wearing his sweats. His too-long hair is mussed, and he needs to shave, and he’s starting to smell like Travis again. He’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
He’s propped on one arm and uses the other hand to fondle my breasts some more, trailing his fingertips up and down the contours of them and flicking the nipples in turn.
I gasp every time he flicks, and I lift my chest toward his fingers.
Then he teases me with his mouth until I’m almost writhing. I’m mumbling wordless pleas as his face lowers to nuzzle at my stomach.
I grip his hair with both hands. “Travis!”
“Hmm.” He surprises me with a big lick up the middle of my belly that ends with him sucking one of my breasts into his mouth.
I make a gurgling sound as urgency overwhelms me. “Travis, please!”
“Open your legs for me now.”
I’ve been squeezing my thighs closed around the throbbing ache, but I do as he says. I’m so wet now I know he can see the damp spot on my panties as his eyes move down to my groin.
We’re both breathing heavily as he stares at me. He uses two fingers to stroke a line up and down the inner section of my underwear. Then he starts nudging harder in different spots. Finding the pool of moisture. Opening me through my panties. Feeling some more.
I realize he’s trying to find my clit.
“Higher,” I whisper.
He moves his fingers slightly and presses.
I jerk and toss my head. “Yeah, there.”
He rubs my clit in circles through my panties.
I whimper and throw my arms backward to grab on to something. Anything. I find the headboard and hang on.
His eyes never leave me as he rubs me through the damp cotton. I almost sob when an orgasm starts to coalesce, but then he stops.
“You likin’ this, Layne?” he asks as he slides my underwear down and off my legs.
“Yeah. Oh God, yeah. I’m... I’m...”
His eyebrows pull together. “You’re what?”
“I’m dying here! Please, I need to come soon.”
“I’m gonna make you come. I’m gonna make you come real good.” There’s a hot promise in his eyes that surprises me and makes my whole body clench in excitement.
“Soon?”
“Soon enough.” He readjusts his position, moving over me so he’s straddling one of my legs. He nuzzles between my breasts.
“You’re too high there. You need to go lower.”
He chuckles. It shakes his body and wafts against my sensitized skin. “I will. Have a little patience.”
“I don’t want patience. I want to come.”
His tone changes slightly as he murmurs, “Don’t wanna go too fast. I wanna make it good for you.” He’s suckling at one of my nipples again.
The knowledge that he’s telling me the truth—that he’s trying so hard to make sure I enjoy this—provokes a different kind of tension inside me.
This one from emotion.
I stroke his back, enjoying the feel of his firm, rippling muscles, and then tangle my fingers in his hair again.
Very gently I push him downward.
He chuckles again, and this time he slides a hand between my thighs. I’m not wearing my panties now, so when he explores I feel his fingers against my hot, wet flesh.
I make a lot of silly whining sounds as he teases and caresses. Then he slides a finger inside me, turning it so he can feel my inner walls.
“Open up more for me,” he murmurs thickly when I tighten around the penetration.
I pull my legs apart, bending them at the knee as I do. He withdraws his finger and then joins it with another before sliding them back in.
I’m not sure how to process the deep sensations. I reach up to grab the headboard again and curl my toes into the sheet.
He nuzzles at my bre
asts and then my belly as he pumps his fingers inside me.
My body is clinging to them, trying to squeeze around them. He’s rubbing my inner walls with his fingertips as he pumps.
I’m sweating hotly now and tossing my head. I bite my lip around the helpless sounds I’m making.
His head is moving lower on my body. His hair is tickling my belly, his bristles scraping against my inner thigh. Before I know what’s happening, he gives my clit a big, hard lick.
I come undone completely, choking on the pleasure as my body rides out an orgasm on his fingers.
“That’s real good,” he murmurs thickly, nosing at my belly button and still pumping his fingers against my clenching muscles. “That’s what you wanted, ain’t it? You’re feelin’ real good now. Just like you said.”
I don’t want it to stop, and it doesn’t when his thumb closes down over my clit and starts massaging it. I whine and thrash as the pleasure intensifies again, and soon I’m hit with a couple of mini-orgasms on the heels of the first.
His fingers are still inside me as he moves up my body and mouths a line from my breast to my throat. He sucks on the throbbing pulse there, gently pushing against my lingering contractions.
He hasn’t kissed my mouth yet. I never expected him to.
“You got real wet,” he murmurs, a smile in his voice, although I can’t see his face. “My hand is soaked.”
I giggle and finally release the headboard. I tug on his hair with both hands. I’m feeling better now that he’s more relaxed, more sure of what we’re doing. “Well, you’re the one who put it there. I was feeling good, just like you told me to.”
“Yeah, you were. Let’s see if we can make you feel even better.”
“I have my doubts about whether I can—” I break off with a shrill cry. He’s hefted one of my legs up so it’s wrapped high around his back.
His fingers are still inside me, now at a different angle. I can feel his erection pressing into my other thigh, but he’s still got the sweatpants on.
He fucks me with his fingers. Not just pumping and rubbing. He’s fucking me. With his hand. Rough and fast and urgent.
It feels different. Harder. Deeper.
I gasp out a broken cry and dig my fingernails into the back of his neck. His face is still buried in the curve of my throat.
I’m coming before I know to expect it, my body shaking and my heel lodged hard in his bare back.
“Now you’re feelin’ even better.” His voice is low and thick and intoxicating. “Told you that you could. That’s real good. Feel real good.”
Maybe I come again. Maybe it just lasts a long time. But I never knew my body was capable of feeling this way. I’ve only ever had quick, hot rushes of pleasure from rubbing my own clit.
This is different. It’s wracking my body.
It’s turning me inside out.
Both of us are panting when his pumping hand finally slows down. He rubs me gently before he pulls it out.
“Now my hand is even wetter,” he says dryly, giving my shoulder a little nip.
“Told you. Your own fault for putting it there. Now I want to do more than your hand.”
He clears his throat and lifts up, bracing himself above me on straightened arms. “You sure?”
I almost choke on my surprise. “Yes, I’m sure. I want it. And I want you to feel good too.”
“I ain’t got no—”
“I know. But I don’t think we need condoms. I told you about my period. I don’t think I can... I’m not going to get pregnant.”
Fertility has dropped dramatically since impact. Babies are rare. If I do miraculously get pregnant, I’ll probably call it good for the human race and deal with it.
“I’ll pull out.” Travis has that watchful look on his face again. “At the end. Not a sure bet, but it helps.”
I nod. He knows a lot more about sex than I do, so I assume he can handle that part.
He stands up to take off his sweats. I stare at his naked penis—big, firm, slightly darker than the rest of his skin. He’s got coarse hair around the base and leading upward in a thin line toward his belly. His erection bounces as he moves.
He looks at me for a minute. Then gets on the bed, gently pulls my thighs apart, and positions himself on his knees between them.
I never make the conscious decision not to tell him I’m a virgin. I just don’t.
It would make him treat me differently. He might even change his mind.
I like how he is right now. I don’t want him to change. Or stop.
He edges closer to me. He takes his erection in his hand and wipes the few drops of liquid from the head. Then he cups my bottom to lift my hips. I hold myself in position as he uses one hand to line himself up and push in.
It’s tight. Really tight.
It’s intense. Raw. Overwhelming.
It doesn’t feel like there’s room for the length and girth of him in my body, but my channel stretches as he gets deeper.
I’m gasping loudly, fisting my fingers in the sheet.
Travis’s gaze moves from my face to the place where he’s penetrating me, like he’s watching himself sink inside me. His body is tense and sweating.
“How’s that?” he asks when he’s completed the slow thrust.
I make a weird sound in my throat and try to roll my hips.
“Layne?” He looks away from our groins and focuses on my face. “This hurtin’ you?”
“No,” I rasp. “Just... just tight. You’re... big.”
“Yeah?” He sounds surprised. Faintly pleased. Then his tone changes. “Too big for you?”
“No. It’s good.” I shift my hips again and realize I’m relaxing around him. It’s still full and raw and... so much. But it’s not so achingly tight.
“You sure? We’re not doin’ this unless you’re feelin’ real good.”
“I do.” I arch and toss my head. He’s holding me up by cupping my bottom again, and I try to figure out what I’m supposed to do with my hanging legs. “I feel real good now.”
He relaxes and lets his eyes rake over my body again. I’m stretched out shamelessly, my hips held in position by his hands. He can see everything about me there is to see.
He seems to like the looks of me.
A lot.
His eyes get hot again.
Then his hips begin to move. Slowly at first. Rhythmically. A careful rocking.
I moan helplessly as I feel the length of him moving inside me.
It aches. But not in a bad way.
“You feelin’ good now?”
I bite my lip and fumble for purchase against the sheet. My body is shaking with his motion. “Y-yeah. Good. So good.”
He holds me up and sustains the rhythm for a long time. My bare breasts jiggle. Loose hair sticks to my damp face. The bed squeaks softly.
And I’m having sex.
I’m having sex.
My legs dangle uncomfortably, so I hook them behind Travis’s thighs.
He’s starting to grunt to our motion. A rough, primitive sound that goes right to my center. His hips are speeding up, the thrusts getting more vigorous.
I arch my neck and moan, hardly believing the sensual sound came from my throat.
“Fuck.” His features are contorting. He’s losing control. His rhythm intensifies. “Oh fuck. Reach down and rub yourself.”
I’m surprised by the words. Shocked, really. But I respond immediately. I let go of the sheet I’ve been clutching and move my hand down to my clit. I give it a clumsy massage as he fucks me.
I make a mewling sound as the pleasure coils down tight.
“That’s it. Like that. Keep goin’.” His fingers are digging into the soft flesh of my ass. My body bounces in response to his thrusts.
It feels wild. Wanton. The sound of the bed, the sway of my breasts. The slapping of our bodies together.
I rub myself frantically as his thrusts grow hard and jerky. I cry out as my pleasure finally releases. He pushe
s against my contractions for a few seconds but then pulls out of me with a loud exclamation.
He lets me fall to the bed and comes on my stomach, using his hand to squeeze himself through the release.
Through my blurry eyes, I can see his face twist as he does, his mouth open in a rough groan.
I’m still rubbing my clit gently, feeling a few aftershocks of pleasure. I pant loudly as I watch all the tension in his face and body fade into soft satiation.
He falls down onto the bed beside me, his face turned in my direction.
It takes me a long time to catch my breath. When I can form words, I rasp, “Thank... you. Thank you.”
“You felt good?” His voice is just as hoarse as mine, and I can hear him breathing raggedly.
“Oh yeah.” I turn to look at him, meeting his gaze. “You did too?”
“Better than... anythin’.” His blue-gray eyes are sober. Sweat is dripping down his face.
He means it.
I sigh in relief.
This wasn’t a mistake. I did what I wanted, and I don’t have to regret it. Maybe—even in the midst of danger and loss and fear—there’s something we can do for ourselves.
Just Travis and me.
We can feel good. At least for a little while. In a stranger’s house. In the safety of a barricaded bedroom.
A needed release at the end of the world.
If I have any say in the matter, we’re going to do it again.
Six
WE LIE NAKED ON THE sheet and recover for a few minutes. I hear his breathing slow down and his body cools a bit.
So does mine.
Eventually I ask, “Do you ever still feel like a cigarette?”
He gives a soft snort of surprised amusement. “Not as much as I thought I would. I was tryin’ to stop when Grace was born. Got down to just one or two a day. Outside where the smoke wouldn’t...”
He trails off, but I know what he’s saying.
He was quitting smoking for his daughter.
And now his daughter is dead.
“Then, afterward, never had the time to think about smokin’ much even if there was any cigarettes around.” He folds one arm up under his head and looks at me. “But if I ever wanted a cigarette again, now would be the time.”