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The Final Candle

"“Finish in my mouth, Stuart,” Jayne begged."

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As he cradled Jayne in his arms, Stuart’s mind drifted back to the day it had started. Panic had slowly consumed the streets below, their twelfth-floor balcony affording a perfect view of the chaos that had eventually overwhelmed the city.

Abbey Road, the main arterial route from their estate to the outskirts had quickly become a river of abandoned cars as it became clear to the terrified populace that fleeing on foot was a faster escape.

Jayne had implored them to leave while they could and seek refuge with her parents in the country.

“Look at the roads, Jayne, and the people being picked off by those, those… things. We’ll never get out,” he consistently answered.

Like Stuart, Jayne had seen the drama unfold beneath them. Every time someone ventured from their block to escape or forage for supplies before they ran out, they’d been overpowered within minutes by the ever-escalating numbers of infected. She hated his inaction, though deep down she knew he was right. Staying put was probably the one thing that was keeping them both alive.

Water had been the first utility to stop, and as the pandemic spiralled out of control, the electricity supply had dwindled and died a week later. The last beacon of any remaining civilisation disappeared shortly after that. When the BBC’s World Service turned to a drone of radio static, it had been the final signal that both civilian and military authorities had been overrun.

Hand in hand, they peered through the railings on their balcony, hiding from view from the plaza below, knowing that tonight’s darkness was the night when Stuart must inevitably venture out. In the glow of sunset, the city looked like a skeleton, a derelict shell of its former self, the abandoned streets occasionally punctuated by one of the infected remorselessly looking for prey; looking for prey like Stuart and Jayne. As the sun approached the horizon, he wondered how many other surviving refugees there were, holed up in their own sanctuaries, facing the same dilemma; the need for food.

The sun finally merged with the deserted cityscape and disappeared, turning the sky first orange, then red, then dark blue, until all that was left was a deep mauve. Five minutes later darkness took over, the streetlights having long since ceased to function.

Stuart and Jane retreated inside, pulled the curtains, lit their final candle and contemplated the risk that had to be taken.

“You will come back, won’t you?” questioned Jayne, looking forlornly at the flame as it flickered vulnerably, almost as if it knew the wick and wax were just about spent.

“Of course,” Stuart answered, his voice wavering with fear. They’d both seen the fate of both neighbours and strangers who’d reached their own desperate supply predicaments far sooner than they had.

“Just in case you’re not, I want you.”

“Now?”

“Yes, Stuart. I need this.

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If you don’t make it back, I need to remember again how it feels to have you inside me.”

“I love you,” whispered Stuart as he took Jayne’s hand and gently pulled her to the bedroom.

She had always been intoxicated by his touch and now was no different. Despite the hopelessness of their wider circumstances she was already wet, and as he leant into her, with his stubble grazing her cheeks, she could feel shivers of carnal need running down her spine.

Stuart brushed his lips across hers, and allowed his hands to encircle her, then travel the distance from her shoulders to her buttocks until they were gently cupping her cheeks, pulling her tight against his already erect manhood.

Stuart lowered her to the edge of the bed, and the fingers that had so tenderly cupped her cheeks moments before, were now feverishly tugging her flimsy knickers over her hips, down her legs and off.

Within seconds he felt his own clothing being tugged to the floor, allowing his cock to spring free. He thought about pleasuring her pussy and ass with his tongue as she so often liked, but sensed that now was not the time for slow romance. Jayne didn’t want that either. She needed Stuart’s cock buried deep in her cunt and his lean body pressed on top of her, smothering her in his raw need.

Jayne leant forward, taking Stuart’s bulbous erection in her hand. She lovingly stroked its length before centering the head on the entrance of her sopping core.

“Fuck me, Stuart. Fuck me now.”

Stuart pushed his hips, sliding his cock deep inside Jayne’s soaking pussy, before starting a rhythm of deep, hard thrusts punctuated by shorter invasions of her sex where he let his throbbing cock rest tantalizingly just inside her.

Jayne was already close, as intimacy between them had been so rare during the unfolding apocalypse. Her sighs and moans built and built until the crescendo of orgasm washed over her body.

She sensed Stuart was close too, and given their situation, the last thing she needed was the potential complications of him coming in her pussy.

“Finish in my mouth, Stuart,” Jayne begged.

Needing no further invitation, Stuart withdrew his cock and slid it hard between Jayne’s eager lips. It only took three thrusts into her mouth before his eyes rolled back and he let out a low moan as he came. Jayne greedily gulped down the three ropes of sticky sweet cum that pulsed deep into the back of her throat before tenderly licking the eye of his cock, making sure she’d swallowed every bit of his lust.

They held each other close, basking in their sated desires before it was time for Stuart to venture out.

One hour later, just as Stuart softly closed the door to the block and stepped out into the night, Jayne watched their final candle flicker one last time and die, consumed by the pool of molten wax it had created. The only certainty was uncertainty. Bathed in moonlight, Stuart crept nervously out into the unknown.

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Written by Sara
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