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The World Ends With A Whimper

"One man's life on the precipice takes a new turn."

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All around me, the grimy, cracking walls echoed with the deafening snarl of pistons. Burning rubber kicked up a storm of gravel that ricocheted all around like gunfire. I pressed myself deep into the darkest corner of the bridge arch and curled up as small as I could.

I admit it wasn’t my most courageous or heroic moment, but I’ve learned to do whatever it takes to survive. I had no plans on becoming a piece of sport for the lunatic petrol-heads. I could hear their whoops and hollers of joy over the combustion choir, followed then by an unmistakably metallic crash.

A sudden hiss and the slow, whining death of an engine hailed another ear-splitting roar of cheers.

“Tha’s tha’ fuckin’ end of that piece of shit, kidda! You ain’t pushin’ that one back!”

Another squeal of burning rubber came seconds before a clash of steel.

“An’ tha’s sealed tha’ fuckin’ deal! Get in or some fucker’s gonna mince you up, too!”

A young man’s voice barked out a string of curses, as all others laughed. Still the clash of metal continued until one whooping yell went out.

“Fire it! Fire it!”

As one, the group began to chant louder and louder, the bridge arch shaking all around me. The concrete amplified the spitting sounds of flames and the walls burned with its light. The chanting soon drowned out the sound of the fire, until I thought my ears would bleed. I could’ve screamed for it to end.

Something exploded. The noise, heat, and taste assaulted my senses as every crevice was licked with roaring flames. Another victorious cry rang out before a second explosion took a whole layer of dust and grime completely off the walls in one fell swoop. Hugging my knees and covering my ears was probably not a heroic sight, either.

“Get tha’ fuck out, lads, before tha’ thing comes down!”

A few more crashes rang out before a chorus of shrieking tyres sounded from every wall. From my corner, I saw a string of cars tear into the daylight of the world; each little more than a twisted pile of smoking scrap. The air filled with the dust left in their wake, mixing with the clogging smoke that began to sting my eyes.

A few minutes later I was left with the pop and crackle of fire. At last, I could get out. Still careful and quiet, I crept out of my corner and saw the inferno of twisted metal jammed in the bridge on the other side.

‘Maybe getting out of here isn’t such a bad idea after all.’

With one last look, I turned and sprinted out of the smog and into the blinding light of the blistering sun.

**

Looking back on the spiralling plume of smoke from a distance, I could just imagine the horde of scavengers, bandits, and lunatics currently barrelling in its direction. My skin prickled at the thought and my legs seemed to carry me faster of their own accord. The further away from them I made it, the better.

My feet ached terribly as I scrambled up yet another pile of twisted rubble, avoiding the razor points of mangled re-bar just waiting to catch me. My dry and cracked skin now turned to harsh leather, clawing against the rough concrete for purchase.

Sitting on the third floor of a half-collapsed building, I could just see the flames under the bridge, only a few miles away. Through the heat haze, dust and fog, I could’ve sworn I saw the shimmering silhouettes of several shapes in the smog.

I sat and pulled a leather-bound hip flask, embossed with a symbol, from my bag. It was once an elegant piece, I suppose, but the ravages of our new world had seen to that. Tattered, dented and beaten, I didn’t even know what horrific liquid it held. It was just something else I’d scavenged from somewhere I’d already forgotten.

Popping the top and gulping down a mouthful of the foul liquor, my face contorted with disgust. Every drop was vile, but the burning sensation invigorated me. I was alive. I’d have killed then and there for a single mouthful of good Scotch.

I leaned back on my pack and rested in the baking heat of the sun. The world was quiet, with just the squawk of crows above me. Across the skyline of twisted, broken buildings, I could see a far-off dust cloud rising into the air. It could’ve been the bandits from the bridge, but the cloud looked to be headed towards me.

Perhaps those kicking up that dust storm were following the smoke. I could imagine the psychopaths that might swarm to such a site. My feet were itching to leave and my hair stood on end. It was about time I obeyed my instincts and moved, I thought.

I heard a noise below me.

A short scrambling sound echoed so loud in my ears, I thought it might’ve been only inches away. My whole body tensed on alert and I crouched defensively to my knees as I heard the tumble of rolling rubble.

Someone was trying to climb!

My feet were already moving. My pack was slung across my back and my legs carried me to the broken window nearby, lurching to a run. My arms pumped and I held my breath as I jumped from the window, slamming hard onto the concrete roof of the building next door.

I landed with a roll, focused dead ahead as I ran for all I could, sliding loudly down another pile of broken concrete to the street below. My feet slapped against the crazed and broken tarmac, my lungs burned with the exertion, but still I ran, one hand wrapped tight around the strap of my pack.

I ran from block to block, determined to put a distance between us. Once, I dared a glance behind me, down a long and open street, just as a figure rounded the corner at a sprint.

I didn’t stop for a second look. I put my head down, pumped my arms and let my feet pound the pavement as I recklessly ran for my life, hoping to God I wouldn’t run into anyone else. My mind raced with the fear of who might be waiting around the next corner.

Desperately trying to breathe, I dodged quickly into a back alley and collapsed behind a dumpster, my legs failing me at last. I hugged the shadows and closed my eyes, keeping my ragged breaths as quiet as possible.

Just seconds later, I heard it. The pounding of feet is an unmistakable sound, growing louder and louder with every second. My heart seemed to freeze its beating and my lungs ceased to work as I pressed myself tight into my dark and dingy corner, and not for the first time today!

The footsteps hammered towards me. I gripped the hilt of the combat knife that lived on my thigh and hoped to whatever God created this miserable world that I wouldn’t have to use it. I could hear the runner’s breathing now; the deep, ragged breaths I’d only just been taking myself. Every hair stood up on my flesh as I inched the knife slowly from its sheath, my teeth gritted firmly together.

The alley echoed with the reverberating beat of heavy footfalls as they grew closer and then ran straight past me without stopping. My body sagged over with the breath I let go. Steadily, the sound of their feet carried away into the distance and my lungs took a deep, desperate breath of stale air.

I shook with relief, my skin itching with the rush of pure adrenaline that left me gripping my knife so tight.

That was too fucking close,’ I thought to myself.

I opened my eyes and sighed, glancing around. The alley backed onto what used to be a couple of small shops. The windows were smashed to pieces and the yard was strewn with junk. The place was no doubt looted to death, but it was the kind of place I could usually find something good hidden away in.

I was dying to look, but I couldn’t risk it. I scrambled to my feet, sighed and took one last look at the back door that flapped open so invitingly in the breeze.

Fuck it,’ I thought. ‘They’re not gonna come back here looking for me.’

Ducking into the open door and pressing myself to the wall inside, I let my eyes adjust to the dim light.

The floor was littered with torn and empty boxes, the remains of broken shelves and glass doors. The crunching of every footstep was something that gnawed at me and nervously tightened my muscles.

Every shelf was bare; every cupboard and fridge picked clean. There was nothing. My frustration was growing as I slipped from one aisle to the next. My heart beat like a hummingbird’s and with every second, this loot hunt seemed like a worse and worse idea.

Then I heard the crunch. That unmistakable, almost inaudible, crunch of footsteps on glass rang in my ears.

I could’ve screamed my throat dry.

Fuck!’ I thought to myself. Standing stock still, I listened to every carefully placed step draw closer and closer. ‘This is it. I’m gonna be gutted and stuck like a pig for a couple of fucking tins and a flask of… Detergent! Fuck!’

My back was pressed tight to the shelf. I looked around, but there was nowhere to move. The walls here had no windows and the shelves seemed to loom over me, growing to dominate me in their oppressive shadow.

I pulled my knife free of its sheath and gritted my teeth, rolling my tense shoulders.

Fuck it. I’m not going down without a fight. No matter what fucking psycho comes around this corner, he’s gonna leave here with something missing.’

The shelf rocked gently as someone’s weight pressed against it. My fingers tightened their grip and I waited until I heard that delicate step, only inches away. I spun around the corner, knife and forearm held high. My elbow connected with their throat, slamming them into the shelf with all my weight. I snarled and growled, knife held high, then stopped.

The woman gasped beneath me, her eyes bulging from the connection. She flinched into the metal shelving, recoiling from me. I just stared, my mind in overdrive when she made no attempt to defend herself. She leaned into the shelving, hiding behind the curtain of dark hair that fell across her face.

I jumped back, lowering the knife a little as I continued to stare. I could hardly believe my eyes.

“Who are you?” I barked, trying to look into her eyes. “What do you want from me? Why are you following me?”

She slid slowly down the shelf to the floor, crouching as she sobbed and hid behind her forearms. I just stared in disbelief. Surely, I thought, this was some kind of ruse.

“Don’t think I’m gonna fall for that. The waterworks never worked on me in the previous world, never mind now! Get up! C’mon! Get up and tell me what you want!”

Her eyes lifted to mine and I was stunned by the depth of emotion swirling in those puffy, tear-soaked orbs. I kept my distance. I couldn’t decide what to make of her. She couldn’t have been older than early thirties, but the dust, the grime and the world itself had given her skin a rugged toughness.

I stood and watched her gasp into her stained and grimy jeans, rubbing her throat and giving a terrible, hacking cough. I just wondered what the Hell I was to do now.

“C’mon then, who are you?” I genuinely didn’t know what else to ask. I could just leave, but she might lurch up and shank me.

Her croaks seemed to fade and again she looked up at me, her eyes bloodshot and swollen with tears. Her voice cracked and she murmured, “Emma.”

“What do you want, Emma?” I was having trouble keeping my tone level.

“Please, I just want-“

“You think you can fool me into believing this shit? I know you’ve been following me. What do you want?!” I roared the last few words, my frustration boiling over.

She hugged her knees tightly, curling up defensively at my feet. I couldn’t stand there and watch it any longer.

“Look, I don’t care. Fine. Say nothing. I don’t care. I’ve got nothing for you, okay? Just stop following me. I’ve nothing for you! Find someone else to rob, okay?”

She didn’t react. She didn’t even seem to register that I’d spoken. I backed slowly from the room, pressing the knife back into its sheath as I slipped out of the back door and stepped into the blazing light of day once more.

Time to leave. Now.’

My pack was thrown over one shoulder and I set off at pace, heading for home. It was high time I got out of this madness for a while before something else surprised me.

**

A few hours later, after a slow and deliberately careful route, I pushed open the creaking door to the abandoned warehouse I called home. The dust swirled around my feet as I walked to the groaning staircase and climbed to the top floor. Stepping into my room, at last, felt as though a weight had fallen from my shoulders, especially as I cast my heavy pack across the floorboards and collapsed onto the mattress in the corner.

I groaned, rolled onto my side and passed out at once. I remember the fevered dreams of roaring engines and then the total silence, broken only by cracking glass. I remember the feeling of my legs, heavy like lead, failing to carry me further and further from the roaring crackle of flames. I remember the sound of a woman’s sobbing.

I awoke instantly, my skin soaked with sweat and my ears pricked. What had I heard? My eyes flew open, my ears straining, but there was nothing. I waited for minutes in deafening silence. I was about to give up when I heard the rattle of something metallic in the street below.

My pulse hammered yet again and I dived to my feet, crawling low across the floor to peer through the window to the street outside. I watched carefully for anything, any movement at all; a cat, a dog, a stray psycho with a katana.

Anything?!’ I screamed internally.

The street was bathed in the light of the moon, but shadows filled the alleyways and corners, hiding anything – and anyone – that moved. My eyes strained hard enough through the dark to give me a headache, but I couldn’t look away.

Finally, I caught a flicker of movement opposite. I peered out to see a figure step from a doorway, glancing up and down the street. They ran forward and the wind caught their long, dark hair, trailing it behind them as they ducked into the alleyway nearby.

My heart hit the floorboards.

It’s her. She’s followed me. She’s found me. How?!’ My teeth ground together, my whole body shaking. ‘What does she want?!’

As quietly as I could, I stacked all of the broken furniture scattered through the room against the entrance, trying to avoid the windows. Barricading the door seemed desperate, but the threat of that open doorway gnawed at the back of my mind.

I sat by the window all night, my back to the wall, peering through the cracked and dirty glass to the street below, waiting for any sign. Hours passed without a motion and my eyes grew heavy. My head rested wearily against the brickwork and my eyes fell shut.

Daylight.

I could feel the sunlight kissing my face as my tired body groaned back to reality. I lay still for a second, then at once remembered and braced tight to the wall, my eyes sweeping the room. The door was still jammed firmly shut and nothing stirred nearby. I deflated with a single sigh, collapsing against the wall.

Stupid! Fucking! Idiot! Fuck! That could’ve been it!’ My head slammed hard against the brickwork with every silent, berating word. ‘Where’s she gone!?’

I peered over the sill once more, to the street below. A vortex of dust swirled on the cracked and baked tarmac, as long shadows of the early morning sun stretched across the road. Even at daybreak, the horizon shimmered ahead of me.

Seems quiet,’ I thought to myself.

Just then I caught a slight motion across the way. My eyes peered into the dimly-lit alley, barely making out the shifting pile of litter that seemed to grow before my eyes. My brow wrinkled and my eyes squinted, before a figure emerged from the pile, yawning and stretching for the clear blue sky of morning.

She’s staking me out now? What?’ I watched her rouse, carefully. She paced the alley a few times and rummaged through the bins, but made no effort to leave.

She pulled a dirty, dented drum from the corner of the alley. I watched her set the drum down, and then herself upon it. I could hardly believe my eyes as she leaned against a crumbling wall of bricks and vigorously rubbed her face, as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

Maybe it’s a coincidence,’ I thought, even then feeling as though I were clutching at straws. ‘Maybe she’ll be gone when I get back.’

I stood and snatched up my pack, leaving a few cans beneath the window to keep the weight down. The strap was slung across my shoulder as I took one last look out at the raven-haired figure that seemed to haunt me.

‘She’ll be gone when I get back,’ I told myself again, pulling away my barricade and stepping onto the groaning staircase once more. Heading for the rear entrance, I slipped out into another day of blazing sunshine and gusting dust.

**

The afternoon sun beat against my neck. I sat atop a rocky outcrop, high above the town. I’d like to say I found the highest point, but I couldn’t risk it. Instead, I found myself sat comfortably inside a niche in the rock-face, leaning against my pack.

The wild berries gathered around me should’ve been nothing special, if the world were right. As it was, the few small fruit were the best treat I’d had all week. Popping a single berry into my lips and feeling the delicate surface spill its sweet juices on my tongue, my mind was carried back to the summers I’d enjoyed, long ago.

Closing my eyes, I could still smell the freshly mown grass, the heat of the sun and the laughter of children. We’d sit outside for days on end, surviving on ice cream and fruit salad. Those summer days were carefree, the ambience fed by birdsong and rustling trees in the wind.

My lips turned up happily as the memory of my Katie came to me; the coconut scent of her hair as she leaned over my shoulder. I could feel her breath on my neck as she whispered for me to come inside, along with her delicate touch. My skin tingled with the memory of her fingertips brushing my bare, tanned chest, smoothly stroking the tufts of hair.

We’d run barefoot into the house, hand-in-hand, giggling like children as we took the steps two at a time. I could still see the delicate shake of her ass ahead of me as she hauled me up the stairs, hitching her skirt teasingly higher to show her lack of underwear.

She’d barrel into the bedroom and turn, stopping dead at the foot of the bed. She’d take her time in popping every button of her breezy blouse. Standing to watch her was a pleasure as she mesmerised me with her dance, turning her back as the blouse fell to the floor. The smooth and dimpled skin was almost irresistible, her muscles flexing beneath a sheet of brilliant blonde hair. Katie’s hands reached back to hold her skirt higher, bending slowly at the waist, until her frisky smile shone back at me from between her smooth and tender thighs, inviting me in.

The squawk of a crow shocked me back to reality and the sting of my cracked and broken lips. Irritated, I growled into the bottle of dubiously dark water I poured down my parched throat, licking my lips with a wince.

Picking up a berry in finger and thumb, I thought of Katie once more and felt my hips stir as I imagined her peachy, dancing arse held invitingly high. My body responded at once, my grimy trousers tenting as I was filled with an energy I thought I’d long since forgotten. There, alone on that jutting outcrop of rocks, my palm ground into my stiffening shaft. Leaning back, I freed myself to the air and let loose a groan of need as my fist enveloped my ache.

I closed my eyes and tried to think of Katie, my pumping fist now taken by impulse. Images of our tangled and sweating bodies flashed through my mind, like a long forgotten scrap book.

“Katie…” I sighed out, my hips rolling with my intense, building need. “Please…”

I was lost in my pleasure as months of tension seemed to flow through me in a desperate circuit of satisfaction. I knew my groans would travel, but I couldn’t hold them back. My skin began to tingle; my flesh felt as though it might boil, and then I saw the shining eyes looking up at me through that curtain of dark hair.

As my body crested its wave of need, I could see only her; my gripping fist acting alone as it pushed me closer and closer to that inevitable edge. I gripped myself hard with both hands, hips lurching as my tension pulsed through my body, repeatedly, and my lungs emptied with one last desperate word, “Emma…!”

**

Walking back to the warehouse as the sky dimmed to dusk, my mind refused to stop replaying that final image through my mind. Emma’s bright eyes looked up through her mass of hair, as that exhausting, satisfying surge overcame me. I couldn’t stop imagining everything about her. About us.

‘She’s just some woman. You barely even saw her, man! With luck, you’ll never see her again. Fuck, how desperate are you?’

No matter how much I berated myself, I couldn’t lose the thought of her. I expected she’d be gone from the alleyway, but I couldn’t resist a look. I had to check, even if I had absolutely no idea why.

I stepped quietly into the darkened area and listened for a while, hearing nothing but the rushing wind gusting through the narrow passage. Stepping forward, my eyes scanned the ground and I looked for any sign of her, nudging any piles of rubbish on the off-chance. The alley looked deserted and as I stepped into the main street, and scuffed my heels on the pavement, I knew she’d gone.

I stood still for a second, feeling strangely disappointed. I hated that; stomping across the street with my teeth gritted tight, silently berating my poor judgement.

‘I should be glad she’s gone! She’s trouble, she’s dangerous. What the fuck is wrong with me?’

I tramped loudly through the warehouse and up the stairs, kicking the door open. I stopped dead in my tracks.

The girl scampered across the floor, snatching up a piece of cloth. She hugged it tight to her frame as she stared at me through the shade of her hair from the corner of the room. She didn’t speak or move, but simply watched me as I watched her, in turn.

“You found me.”

Still, the woman didn’t respond, except to grip the material tighter. I didn’t consider that much of a response.

I tried my best to keep my voice level and refrain from screaming, but I’m sure my voice hitched in my throat once or twice from the strain.

“What do you want? Why are you following me?”

Her silence was frustrating, my teeth were beginning to grind and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes.

“C’mon, Emma, what is it you want?!”

I admit my voice became a little raised and I saw the quiver that crossed her skin as it struck her.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Just tell me what you want!”

When no response came, I shrugged my shoulders and kicked the door shut behind me, throwing my pack down on the ground. I collapsed onto my mattress, propped myself up against the wall and watched her from the corner of my eye.

“You don’t wanna talk? Fine. Neither of us is going anywhere. It’ll be dark, soon. Are you gonna huddle in that corner all night?”

I pulled open my pack and began to sort through the day’s findings. I saw her head lift for a better look as she watched me pull a few tins from the bag and stack them with the others. I took my time in emptying the pack, gauging her reaction to every item. When a bottle of water cleared the neck of my bag, she seemed to lurch forward involuntarily before checking herself and setting back down.

“You’re hungry? Thirsty?”

Okay, this time, I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help it. This silent act was beginning to wear on me and all I could do was cast a water bottle across the undulating wooden floorboards. It rolled to a halt near the window, in a stream of the last sun’s light. We both watched it go, before glancing at each other. It felt like a mini-standoff, all sideways glances and narrowed gazes.

“Go ahead. I’ve got water.”

She paused for what was only a second or two before she scurried forward and snatched up the bottle. She left the blanket behind and the sunlight reflected from her pale skin, hampered only by a dark-coloured bra and her dark blue jeans. I half expected her to take it back to the corner, but she cracked the lid and drained the bottle right there by the window. Her deep, desperate gulps seemed to echo from the grimy walls and the few long seconds it took for her to finish dragged on in my mind.

“You really were thirsty,” I noted, just as my eyes caught sight of the marks down her side, like gravel rash. “Hey, are… Are you okay? That looks nasty.”

I got to my feet and stepped towards her for a closer look. Her hair whipped around as she spun to look at me, shuffling back.

“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you!”

I stepped closer, as though approaching a wild animal. Her eyes were huge as she watched me approach. At last, she croaked out a word.

“Promise?”

I stopped.

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Her voice was quieter and gentler than I remembered. “Yes, Emma. I promise.”

Emma’s posture relaxed a little, but her eyes never left mine. I knelt in front of her as she hugged her chest tight. That simple action pushed the large, pale mounds of her breasts higher and the old, tattered bra that held them seemed to strain at the seams. I had to blink to take my eyes away.

“Lift your arm, please? Let me see?”

Her eyes watched me intently as she slowly raised her arm and turned. I winced to see the pock-marked skin grazed by gravel, all down her side.

“You’ve been picking at it. What happened, Emma?”

She didn’t speak for a second, but at last quietly murmured. “I fell off.”

My fingertip traced the line of red-raw skin and the girl winced at the touch. “I’m sorry! What did you fall from?”

I stood and walked back to my pack. As I knelt to rummage inside, I saw her watching me closely, almost frowning. “The car.”

“The car? What car?” I found what I needed and walked slowly back towards her.

“The burning car.” Emma’s voice put real emphasis on ‘burning’, as though it took effort to say.

I knelt in front of her again and tore a piece of rag. She flinched at that but remained still. I poured a small dose of disinfectant I’d scavenged just a week before on the cloth. “The burning car?” I was puzzled, but my attention was focused on the angry burn down her side.

“Under the bridge.”

Her words caught me off guard as I caught her with the stinging burn of the rag on her skin. “The… The bridge?” I stammered when I realised what this meant. “So… You’re one of those…”

I couldn’t finish that sentence. I just looked at her as I dumbly held the rag to her side and our eyes looked deep into each others.

“Yes.” Her voice was little more than a breathless mutter, as though the word filled her with shame. “Fortunately, no more.”

I dabbed at her skin again and I tried to decipher the swirl of emotions that seemed to rage behind her eyes.

“’Fortunately’? You mean, you uh…” My throat constricted and I coughed, determined to regain my composure. ‘C’mon, man, get to it!’ “You mean you won’t be going back?”

“No.”

Although she spoke quietly, that one word held a lot of resolve. I felt largely better for it. “So you followed me here from the bridge?”

She watched, intently, as I disinfected her wound, wincing only occasionally. I would frequently apologise. “I’m sorry! Disinfectant hurts, I can’t help it.”

“Yes, I saw you leave the bridge.”

“And why did you follow?” I poured more onto the rag and followed the rash higher up her back, around her bra. “I might need you to move this strap…”

She jumped the gun and reached one hand around to snap the clasp in a second. The bra fell free and she sat up straight again, completely unfazed. ‘She’s feeling more comfortable…´

“I don’t know. You didn’t look like one of those bastards and you seemed to want to get away, too. I wanted to get away.”

My rag idly circled a small patch of raw looking skin, but my attention was elsewhere. My eyes were focused on the impressive swell of her breasts, capped by a perfectly pink, round nipple that held a tiny hint of pucker in the cool air. I could feel my lips wetting and my fingers itching to feel the softness of her skin on mine.

I cleared my throat again, determined to focus.

“But… I attacked you. You still followed me here. Why?”

My poor focus failed me again as she now turned to look at me, face-on. My eyes were drawn, magnetically, to the magical heave and sway of her breasts. I couldn’t look away.

“You didn’t want to hurt me. I was hungry. Desperate. You seemed like my best shot and you didn’t hurt me badly.” Emma’s head dipped to look into my eyes and I’m sure my face turned red as I forced my focus back to her wounds. I was making a fool of myself and she was growing more confident around me with every minute.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked after a minute.

I looked up into her eyes, at last, and frowned. “Would you rather I didn’t?”

“No one helps anyone in this world. Why would you help me?” She tilted her head as though examining some strange creature.

“Because you need my help. There’s nothing else.” My voice grew small and I felt completely ridiculous blushing in front of this woman easily ten years younger than I. I kept my eyes down and worked my way slowly down her body with the rag, taking a lot longer than strictly necessary.

“You haven’t been this close to a woman in some time, have you?” It was a technically a question, but she wasn’t asking. She knew the answer.

“I…” I stuttered. I actually fucking stuttered. I hated myself right there. “That’s got nothing to do with… That’s not why I’m helping you!”

She dipped her head again to look at me and we watched each other for a minute while I futilely tried to control my blushing. I had to break the silence.

“The uh… The wounds go… They go lower,” I coughed, pointing quite pathetically at her angry red hip.

She looked down at herself and then stood up above me. I watched her slip loose the well-weathered leather belt around her waist and shuffle her jeans down to her thigh on one side. She turned slightly in profile, giving me a better view of the bruise that covered her hip, the top of her thigh and across to her firm, tender-looking arse cheek.

‘For fuck’s sake, man…! Get yourself together!’

I stared for a minute and watched my fingers extend, reaching out to stroke softly along the line of her marks, my fingertips brushing the soft skin of her arse. Emma jumped and looked down at me, quickly. Her eyes were wide, not narrowed and angry. I still blushed. Of course I did. Looking up at her, I had to peer over the invitingly stiff tips of her nipples. I didn’t know where to look.

I quietly looked down and dabbed her with the last of the disinfectant before standing and shuffling away. I coughed as I packed my things back in my bag and hoisted it over my shoulder. ‘I need to get out!’

I turned to face her as she looked on, confused, from the window. Her belt was still loose and her bare breasts shone with the dying light of the sun, casting shadows across her collarbone.

“I should uhh… Fetch some clean water, for your wound. I’ve got to… Go.” I turned and headed out of the door, taking the steps two at a time and bounding through the rear entrance to the warehouse. I leaned back against the brick wall hard and tried my best to control my breathing, ignoring the throbbing ache in my trousers that strained to be free.

‘God, we really need to work on your composure.’

**

With my back resting on my pack and the gentle birdsong singing out the last moments of daylight, my hands tore open my trousers to rummage desperately for my throbbing shaft. There, in the darkest corner of a forgotten alleyway, my fist closed around my aching meat for the second time that day.

My mind was filled with the images of her perfect, toned body standing over me. I could almost feel the softness of her skin on my fingertips. My hips rocked and thrust into my waiting palm as I sighed out into the clear air and rid myself of that burning need – if only for a few short moments.

**

The room was dark when I returned. I half expected to find an empty room, my stash of tins pilfered and nothing left to make me think this whole day was anything but a strangely erotic daydream.

No such luck.

I opened the door to find the small stove flickering at the back of the room, casting Emma’s pale face into shadow. I closed the door and set my pack down without a word. A glance in her direction confirmed she’d dressed once more and now hugged the stove’s tiny flames for warmth.

“How do you feel?” I didn’t know what else to say.

I’m not sure if I was relieved or mortified by the silence that met me. I suppose I should’ve learned to expect it. Instead, I bent and picked up a tin of something that looked as though it should resemble some kind of stew.

I closed my eyes to convince myself to keep my cool. The second those lids closed to, the image of her dancing breasts in the sunlight flashed across my mind like a shot of lightning. I could’ve sworn into the stale air.

Looking mostly at the floor, I walked towards her tiny camp and awkwardly held the tin towards her. “There’s a cooking tin in the corner,” I said as she slowly took it from my grasp.

“Thank you.”

I sat back on my mattress and watched her busy with stewing it up as I fished a spoon from my bag and handed it to her.

“Sorry, there’s no maître de and no bread.” She laughed a little and I felt encouraged. “Or any real bowl to speak of, never mind a tablecloth.”

She smiled at me and I blushed. Years of desperate isolation will do that to a man.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, stirring the spoon through the bubbling stew. “I haven’t heard of a ‘maître de in years. You’re the first.”

“I suppose not. Most probably wouldn’t know what it is, now I think about it.” The room was quiet for a minute. “You’re very polite for a woman of this world,” I noted, guessing that she couldn’t have been out of her teens when it all happened.

She looked up at me with a lingering, confident look I hadn’t really expected from her.

“You’re very gracious for a man of this world. Perhaps even gentlemanly.”

I blushed and walked away, stuttering.

“I… I don’t know how gracious I am, I mean…”

She laughed behind me and I turned to look. Her face lit up in the light of the fire.

“Are you sure you’re the man who floored me in that store and held a knife to my throat?” She laughed as I stood with my mouth slightly open. “The strong, powerful man who threatened me? If I’d known you would be rendered useless by a glimpse of my tits I’d have taken my top off long ago.”

I blushed. Hard. I couldn’t speak, I just turned and walked back to my mattress and sat, staring intently into my empty bag. ‘Way to go, genius.’

A few minutes of quiet passed, where only Emma’s gentle slurping could move the still air. At last, she set the mess tin down and looked over in my direction. I tried my best to look elsewhere and keep my complexion pale.

“I’m sorry.”

I turned in surprise as she hugged her knees.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been too long with a bunch of lunatics who think nothing of cutting off your clothes and grabbing you. I forget how long it’s been, sometimes. Have you always been alone?”

I had to swallow the lump in my throat as Katie’s beautiful face flashed behind my eyes.

“Uh huh. Since Day Zero. Better that way.”

“Oh.” Her voice was very quiet as she continued. “That must be terribly lonely, for all these years.”

I barked a laugh, just a short, shrill burst. She looked surprised at my reaction. “Just a little, but you get used to it.”

She seemed to think about it for a minute. “Are you sure?”

I couldn’t respond. What could I say to that?

“I know I’ve been trapped with scumbags and psychos for years,” she continued, “but there have been others like me, too. The thought of being alone for all those years… Don’t you feel-“

“Yes, well, here I am.” I interrupted, turning to look at her. “Here I am, living proof. It can be done.”

She seemed to take the hint, then. The silence came once more and suddenly I felt a strange longing for the horrible interrogation to resume, if only to break the tension. We sat quietly together until the moon dipped behind a cloud and the room turned truly dark. I heard her yawn.

“Is it okay if I sleep here?” she asked.

I looked over towards the flickering silhouette of her against the flames.

“I don’t suppose you can go anywhere at this time.”

“I wouldn’t like to, no.”

The flames sputtered out and the dark properly encroached around us. Kicking off my boots, I slipped into my blankets and pulled my shirt over my head.

“I have a blanket you can use. It’s over here if you want it.”

The floorboards creaked as she climbed to her feet. The timber groaned with every gentle, padded footstep towards me. I pulled the spare blanket from my bag, leaning against my pack as a makeshift pillow. I felt the board next to me sink as her foot pressed down on it. Through the pale light of the window, I saw her hand reach towards me. I placed the coarse blanket in her hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered. The floorboards shifted again as she turned to make her way back.

“I, uh…” I started but soon stuttered to a failing halt. My throat gave out and Emma stopped, mid-stride, to wait for me to speak.

‘Speak, you idiot!’

“I… I only have the one mattress.” I swallowed and shook my head, berating myself, thankful for the darkness to hide my blushing.

“That’s okay,” she muttered, taking another step.

“No! I…” She stopped her stride once more and I took a deep breath. “I mean, you’re…. It’s okay if you want to sleep here.”

The room fell into that dreadful silence again and I felt my cheeks flush. What a moron I must’ve seemed.

Emma didn’t speak. I felt the floorboards shift once more and I groaned, expecting her to carry on. I was surprised when the floorboard next to me depressed again and I felt her weight next to me.

“Are you sure?”

“Uh huh.” ‘Very articulate. So proud of you, Casanova.’

“Okay.”

I felt her move nearby, but I wasn’t sure what was happening until I heard something soft fall to the floor. I looked up to see the outline of her body in the pale moonlight. Her arms reached behind her back and something else fell to the floor. When she bent at the waist, her silhouette passing in front of the window, I understood.

The perfectly tipped breasts hung in front of my vision as she shuffled her hips, lowering the jeans down her thighs. Her breasts danced in the moonlight and I felt myself grow firm as the heavy thud of a metallic buckle hit the dull wooden floor.

The mattress moved as she placed her foot on it and brushed my blanket to one side, stepping onto the soft bed. She settled down next to me and with one sudden gust of wind, she cast the blanket over herself, settling down with a sigh.

“You okay?” I asked, clearing my throat yet again.

“Yes, thank you.”

I settled into my makeshift pillow when I felt the blanket next to me rustle. My skin prickled and my body tensed as I felt Emma leaning towards me. I gripped the blanket tight. I didn’t know whether to run, to push her or...

‘What’s she doing?!’

Just then, her soft lips pressed to the back of my neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered again, rolling back to her side and clutching the blanket tight.

Every muscle relaxed and I breathed a sigh of relief to feel her settle down next to me.

‘Okay, just relax…!’

**

I didn’t know I’d fallen asleep, but then I suppose you never do. My skin prickled and I listened, hearing only Emma’s very gentle breaths behind me. Behind me!

I realised, then, what felt so strange. My hair stood on end as soft breaths of air kissed the back of my neck. There was an arm around my waist, the weight of it unfamiliar against my hip, and a warm palm resting on my slightly hairy chest. Her leg was draped over my thigh. Then, I noticed, beyond all of that was the heat; the hot touch of bare flesh against my back.

I was pinned in her grasp, and yet the warmth and the closeness felt as exhilarating as it was terrifying. I lay perfectly still, wondering whether she was awake or not. She didn’t move and neither did I. We lay quietly, breathing with perfect synchronicity.

“Emma?” I breathed.

“You’re awake,” was her quiet response. “I thought so.”

“Um, yes.”

“I don’t know your name, I’m sorry.”

“No, I suppose you don’t.”

Again the silence came while I debated whether she actually wanted to know my name or not.

“Is this too much?” I felt her arm pull back slightly as she asked me. I’d like to say it was a casual gesture that I grasped her hand and held her tightly in place, but I doubt it came across that way.

“No, it’s fine. Please…”

She relaxed into me again and I found my thumb quite unknowingly stroking her forearm as she shuffled her blazing hot skin tighter into me.

“You feel good,” she murmured, her fingers running through my chest hair. Her tone was sleepy, but her touch felt electrifying.

My breathing was growing sharper and deeper, despite all my best efforts. I could inhale her scent, I could feel her heat. The mere brush of her fingertips was enough to set my heart racing. Her palm passed over my beating chest and I was sure she could feel it trying to burst free of my ribcage.

“Are you okay?” she asked me quietly, laying her hand exactly over my heart.

It took all of my energy to mumble an indistinct and pathetic “mhmm.”

“Good,” Emma’s breath gently carried to my ear. “You’ll let me know if you’re uncomfortable, won’t you?”

I nodded, slowly, while she tightened her arm around my chest, her fingertips strumming over my skin. I closed my eyes and sighed as her leg slowly brushed along the length of mine. I lay there and felt my skin burn with the fire she was stoking within me.

Her touch trailed lower down my body and I felt myself hard and straining beneath the sheets, my skin breaking out in goose bumps when her palm lay flat across my stomach. Her soft fingers trailed the edge of my waistband, her knuckles grazing the hard tip of my aching shaft.

Her touch faltered. My lungs took a deep, heavy breath of air as I felt her fingers walking along my hip until they circled gently around my unmistakable length.

She let out a sigh behind me and I twitched in her fingers, pulsing with need when I felt her palm settle around me, stroking deliberately over my cock.

“How long has it been?” she whispered to me, her voice becoming throaty.

‘Since I jacked it off thinking of you? Less than a couple of hours.’

I decided not to answer, simply rolling my hips into her hand was all the response she needed.

“Do you want this?”

I groaned. I fucking groaned like an animal as she squeezed me tight in her palm, through my trousers. ‘Why did I wear my fucking trousers to bed…!’

“May I?” Her voice was a beautiful whisper as she unbuckled my belt and slid the zip slowly down. Her hand snaked into the opening, now encompassing my rigid shaft properly. I sighed aloud to feel her hot flesh on mine. My hips ground into her as I moaned into the still, dank air.

“Oohhhh,” was Emma’s delicious comment as she squeezed my length tight and began to stroke that throbbing meat. “I’m really going to enjoy this.”

“Uh-huh…! Me too.” ‘Articulate as ever.’

Emma’s fist pumped around my tip, her thumb rolling over the ridge of my cockhead with every stroke. I was already leaning into her, my legs falling open as I groaned under her terrible spell.

The blankets shifted next to me and she slipped away for a second. I rolled onto my back, whining at the loss of her skin’s comforting heat. My arms draped at my sides and I focused instead on the incessant stroking of my shaft until the blankets moved again. I looked up, straining through the moonlight.

“Emma, what are you-“

I cut off with a cry that echoed from the dingy walls; a groan which emptied my lungs and pumped my hips towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, Emma!”

She murmured a very muffled acknowledgement from beneath the sheets; the sound coursed through my body and sent me into spasms as her hot, wet lips sunk lower down my now dripping length.

I reached down and cradled her head in my hands, stroking the softness of her hair, when I felt her head dip lower. Emma’s soft lips slipped easily up the wet length of my knob before she dived down once more. My breath caught in a gasp of need as I felt the tightness of her throat push past my head. Emma continued down, taking the thick and throbbing tip of my cock directly into her throat.

My body rose, possessed, from the mattress, as my fingers gripped her hair. I held her tightly as my hips pushed deeper, forcing myself further into the magical grip of her throat. She gasped on me, but I barely noticed as I pulled her up and then slammed myself easily into her throat once more, whimpering loudly enough to echo as I felt her throat constrict around me.

She lifted free with a gasp, her hair flicking up through the stream of moonlight.

“Fuck, you dirty bastard!”

I almost protested before I felt her hand grip the base of my shaft a second before her lips enveloped me once more. I abandoned myself to that groan of desperation, writhing beneath her touch. I was powerless against her. As she took that solid hunk of meat to the depths of her throat once more, I’d have done anything she wanted.

As she pulled away again, I whined with my need. Hearing her giggle at my desperation flushed my cheeks scarlet yet again. Her mouth immediately sucked my balls in deep like a vacuum, once more emptying my straining lungs in one.

“Fuck, Emma. You’re so… I can’t…”

She slipped higher up my body. Her hair tickled my face as she pressed a finger to my lips and kissed me hard. I reached up to grip her hair and pressed my lips to hers, amazed by the softness of her. She squirmed atop me, the hard peaks of her nipples grazing my hairy chest and teasing sighs from the depths of her chest.

My hand stroked down her body, scratching gently down her back and cupping her arse. I couldn’t resist giving that firm cheek a solid swat. I felt my cock grow even harder when she let out a playful giggle in my ear.

“I knew you’d be fun.” Emma’s whispered purr stirred me up to smack her a little harder before my fingers reached between her soft thighs.

The heat of her cunt was unmistakable. The tops of her thighs were wet and strumming the swollen shape of her lips with my fingertips brought forth more delicious moans. Her hips rocked and those engorged folds hugged my shaft, sliding over my aching length with ease. I just allowed her hips to grind against me before she rose above me. She took my length in her hand and lifted to her knees. My fingers dipped into her sweet lips and stroked the obvious nub of her clit.

“Ohhh, fuck. As…” She panted, mid-sentence, before continuing. “As hot as that is…” Here she took my tip and placed it against her clit, grinding on me before stroking that hard cock head through her soaking wet lips. “I really only need this.”

She dropped. I couldn’t believe it. I’d have broken the windows with my groan had there been any air left in my poor lungs. With a solid, satisfying grunt, she impaled herself on the length of me with one ringing clap of flesh on flesh.

“Oh, fuck. Yes! God, that cock feels good, big man!”

My head rolled back and my jaw hung open, as she bit her nails into my chest and began to ride me mercilessly. It took everything I had to hold myself back, panting and gasping as I writhed under her, holding desperately to every delicious second.

Her breath became heavier, her thrusts became harder and before long she was slamming down on me over and over again, grunting with every effort. Her walls tightened around me. I could hear the wetness of her cunt slicking between the two of us. Emma’s hands seized mine, locking them tight around her firm breasts before she made me squeeze.

Her whole throat opened with a groan that made my blood burn. I could feel her grinding her clit into my pelvis with every impacted thrust, every deep, satisfying moan bringing us both closer to the edge.

The effort to resist was immense. I lay panting with the exertion when she dropped her lips to mine and kissed me hard, stealing my breath. I groaned and whimpered, feeling the throb in my pelvis build and build, my hips now thrusting into her by instinct. I couldn’t push her off as she clamped her hands behind my neck and held me tight, her lips sealed on mine.

I whined into the kiss, trying to break free while slamming myself deeper into her with need. That’s when she broke the kiss.

“Emma! Stop! I’m… I’m gonna…!”

She stopped me with another kiss. Another kiss that had me thrashing beneath her with the irresistible need. At last, she pulled away, only to speak quietly in my ear.

“I want it. Give it to me. Stop resisting.”

My willpower failed. I gripped her tight in my arms and I pressed myself into her as hard and as deep as I could. Her lips took mine once more and we held tight together beneath that tattered blanket as our groans reached the crescendo. We were locked tight when my body bucked, beneath her. That first thrust of my hips fired a hot streak of cum into the depths of her cunt.

That’s when she collapsed. Her weight gave out on me, only my arms holding her in place as she began to shake and quiver. Her lips slipped from mine until we were simply whimpering into each other’s ear, moaning aloud as our bodies still bucked and rolled in tandem, draining the last dregs of need from our burning cores.

The last spasms died out as we collapsed in a heap. Her ear lay over my hammering heart and our bodies, slick with sweat, rolled to one side. Emma pulled herself closer to me, our arms reaching out as we curled quietly into each other on the miserable mattress.

Emma crawled in close to my chest as she shuffled her hips, my gently softening length slipping from her tingling sex with a soft sound. With her last, satisfied whimper, I felt that my lonely, desolate world had finally ended.

Published 
Written by Lupus
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