We ran and ran and ran, uphill, downhill, through tall trees and thickets, over boulders and scree; one foot forward, three slides back. Our breath rasping and our throats dry. We kept running, but not really looking as to where we were going. I had taken a side path from the main forestry road and Sarah blindly followed me; tall pines surrounded us and the floor was covered in brown tinder; it was full of material waiting to catch fire with the intense heat. We hit a clearing and then, in front of us, lay a derelict cottage.

I stopped, crouched down and watched for a few seconds; My eyes glancing left and right, looking for movement. I had become so cautious of everything that appeared normal. I had to be certain that no-one was there, to ensure we were alone, but then Sarah ran straight past me, up the steps and through the front door. When I entered the shack she was bent double; her hands on her knees, panting hard. I was relieved that we were safe and ran into her arms when she turned around and straightened. We hugged and then our mouths sought each other and we kissed. Our hands fighting for the right to caress and hold each other’s head as our lips demanded reprieve from the onslaught of all this hatred that seemed to cling to us.

We were high in the mountains and we hoped we could have a little respite. God knows, we deserved it.

As we clung to each other our fervour entered a hiatus and I felt my heart beating like a drum. I stroked Sarah’s hair with my fingers, separating the grime and slime from her golden locks. I pulled a few pine needles from her hair and let them fall to the floor. I couldn’t stop stroking her cheek. I pulled her close to me, savouring the tenderness – and the silence.

The silence; apart from our hearts beating and our lungs inhaling, there was just silence.

The door to the cottage creaked and I hoped, hand on heart, that we had lost the two men that were trailing us. They seemed too unfit to follow us spritely lasses up that mountain and I reassured myself that we had lost them at the bottom of the steep climb back at Manor Farm; some ten miles from where we were. Ten miles that were almost straight up.

I hugged Sarah so close to me that it hurt. I was forced to move backwards as her hands pushed my shoulders away. In her face, I saw a mixture of emotions.

Tiredness.
Fear.
Uncertainty.
Hunger.
Love.

My eyes filled with tears as my love for her surfaced.

Sarah leaned in to kiss away the teardrops that gathered on my cheek and then our mouths met; tender kisses fluttered and danced over our salty lips. Tongues slowly crept outwards as we allowed ourselves some precious us time.

This wasn’t the first time we had found ourselves in this situation and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

ooOoo

We first kissed at Braymaster Station. The three of us, Sarah, my younger sister Jennifer and myself, were destitute. Our hair was filthy, our clothes ragged. We smelt. We had nothing to our name and certainly no pennies to purchase anything with. Everything we had, we stole. But there were few people this close to the mountains to steal from, so we more or less scavenged a living trying to avoid the rapists and killers that had been left behind.

This land had changed, the government had fallen, the army unsupportive, and the police in the cities were just as bad as those people that had gone rogue. There were a lot of people that didn’t rate life at all. Morality was at an all-time low. Every few steps we took we spent some time to review the surrounding locale and with every step we wondered whether it would be our last.

We had happened across an old petrol station, abandoned a long time ago when the precious fuel had run out. All that was left on the shelves were some packets of dry food, some of them scattered amongst rotting vegetables. We took what we could. Jennifer had wandered into the back room of the station and soon came running out; laughter written all over her face. Her hand shaking in the air as she proudly held up three bars of chocolate. We all laughed and whooped with joy.

It was short lived.

Shuffling behind her was a man with a long grey beard, sunken eyes and blackened teeth. His long overcoat nearly touched the floor and when he saw the three of us he hesitated slightly; long enough for us to make a dash out of the front door.

We ran into the street and towards the higher buildings for safety. We reached an old bank and ran straight past it. A shot rang out. When we entered what used to be a superstore I breathed a sigh of relief. Sarah emerged to my left and Jennifer –

I waited anxious seconds for her to appear. My mind started to process information from all my senses and I slowly closed my eyes and turned around. When I opened them, I looked with dread out into the street beyond. There she lay. On the floor; a red pool of liquid by her side. I still can’t say the word blood. It still hurts to think of it as blood, but it leaked out of her and spread over the dusted tarmac.  The old man leaned down to grasp the chocolate bar from her hand and presented us with a toothy grin.

I shook my head. And all because of a fucking chocolate bar.

I wanted to run out to her, hold her in my arms and, in the process, kick the shit out of the old man and make him pay his dues.

In a trance, I had started walking towards Jennifer but Sarah quickly grabbed me; surrounded me with her body and arms and started to pull me back into the store. My mouth fell wide open and a raging silence issued from it. I found myself breathing in, breathing in, breathing in but never out. Finally, after what seemed like ages, a crying noise surrounded me.

To my shock, it had come from my own mouth, but it shocked me to think I could blubber like this.

That was the first time it happened.

I don’t know whether she took advantage of a grief-ridden friend or not, but she kissed me; full on the lips. Not once but a few times; her hands grasping the sides of my head. Once the kisses subsided she pulled me into her body and hugged me close, but all the while pushing and pulling me out of the opposite doorway.

“I don’t want to lose you too, Melissa,” she told me.

I wept profusely onto her shoulder and wailed as I called out Jennifer’s name, over and over, interleaved with the word bastard.

“We have to go. Come on, come with me.”

I had to follow her; dragged along by her need to escape the building and by her hand on my wrist. I didn’t have the energy to run or walk. I wanted to just sit there and wallow in my loss. My mouth opened and closed continuously; wanting to say words that would not come out.

I looked into her eyes when we finally stopped. We were in a back alleyway in what we thought was a safe place to rest up. I wasn’t so much looking into her eyes, but at her lips. They were dust-covered and cracked in places. There was no moistness. My eyes slowly made their way onto hers; almost lime green in comparison to my blue eyes.

We looked at each other in silence, but my stare was dragged back to her lips. Her hand reached out to the side of my face. I felt like throwing up but I managed to restrain that feeling.

“Jenny’s probably in a much better place now; probably with your mum.”

I nodded, still staring at her lips. I couldn’t believe it but I briefly smiled at the thought.

We stayed this way for what seemed like ages. Then I leant into her and kissed her. One,  two, three; a flutter of smaller kisses all over her lips, chin and cheek. I sucked in some air and cried before burying my head into her shoulder. Her arms engulfed me and I felt safe. Safe from all this fucking madness.

I don’t know how she had the strength or stamina to hold me up. We hadn’t eaten for two days and all we had on us were two chocolate bars and a few muesli bars that felt harder than concrete. We ate them all before making our way out of town towards the mountains.

We followed the signpost that led to Manor Farm. Ten miles it said, it was the last plot of civilised land. A safe haven, perhaps, before the torturous climb into the mountains.

ooOoo

We were more than a little cautious on our approach to Manor Farm.

“Come on, let’s investigate this place,” I said. We split up and Sarah disappeared off to some of the back rooms and I headed for the kitchen. Light poured in from the open window and bounced and scattered off the water droplets on the edge of the kitchen sink. A few strands of light made it onto the table.

I found water, not much but enough; stored in three sealed milk churns. It looked drinkable. I found rice in one of the cupboards and a few chillies that had dried out on the shelves. Matches were still in their boxes and there was a wood stove, chippings and pots and pans to cook in. It was heaven; a royal feast for us and with time on our hands to enjoy it.

I started putting water in a pan. I placed the wood chippings and some larger pieces of wood over the soot that lay in the stove and was about to light the tinder when Sarah appeared at the doorway.

“Look what I’ve found,” she said, smiling.

I turned to see her holding up an array of straps. Her other hand appeared from behind her back and holding what looked like a penis.

“And there’s a lovely bed back there,” she said pointing behind her.

I smiled. I was in two minds. I held up the bag of rice.

“Food or pleasure?”

“Food,” she announced.

ooOoo

Manor Farm was empty of people. It had food, water and lots of it. We even had a shower. In the two or three days since we first kissed, we had explored our bodies. We kissed often, touched and teased our most sensitive areas at every opportunity.

The bed at Manor Farm was big. At one point I nearly passed out. Sarah pushed her body down over mine, showering it with gentle kisses as she went along; teasing me. I never thought for one minute she would kiss me there but she did. Minutes later I found myself wanting to pleasure her in exactly the same way. I couldn’t wait.

It wasn’t that I thought of myself as lesbian, or even bi-sexual. It was just that I needed to, and wanted to give her the same pleasure that she gave me. It seemed it was all we could do. All we could enjoy was each other.

We had heard stories about the other side of the mountains. How people had a normal life. Whatever normal was, we wanted desperately to experience it. This side was treacherous. We must have been the most unlucky threesome to have run into that old man as few people live this far out. And what of the chances of him having a working gun.

I think of Jennifer every day. Though, if Jennifer were alive, I probably would not be acting like a loved up kitten with Sarah.

Sarah is insatiable, we both are. I can’t get enough of her, nor she of me. I never thought I would feel like that. Not for anyone, man or woman. Definitely not a woman, but I do. I wouldn’t call it love, not yet anyway, but I suppose it will become love – one day! I want it to be love.

While I am in the throes of another orgasm, I reach down and grab her hair. I don’t rest until both my hands are behind her neck and I am pulling her tongue into my pussy. I buck my hips and open my legs as wide as they will go. I’m not as flexible as her, she would have had her legs behind her head by now and I would be licking her slit while looking over her mound and into her eyes; seemingly inches away from my tongue. No, I have to pull her into me and lift my head upwards. A strenuous task when all you want to do is climax.

When I do climax, Sarah gets soaked. She loves it.

I never knew I had the capability, but I do. My juices erupt from my body when I start to climax; rushing out and over her pretty little face. They’re not just for her though. She shares them with me, eventually.

At Manor Farm, we have a good few days of eating, sleeping, pleasuring, licking, sucking and fingering while we stay here. We even found spare clothes that fit our svelte bodies; skinny really, though she is more voluptuous than me, with heavier breasts and more rounded hips. I love sliding my hand over her smooth creamy hips; second to her lovely breasts though.

Last night, she cut my hair. Said it would suit me; she then called me a dyke. It was a bit on the short side but I slowly got used to it; looking in the mirror, over and over, I eventually started to like it. I wondered what she saw in me. Maybe she didn’t see anything at all, maybe it’s just because we are here, together and with no immediate chance of finding anyone else that is remotely pleasant or nice. We are Survivors. That just about sums it up.

We take our pleasures while we can. One day they may be our last. It nearly was our last with that old guy. It saddens me to think that it was Jennifer’s last day. Never believe anyone when they tell you that chocolate won’t kill you. It can!

One afternoon, we were cuddling on the sofa, fully clothed, but I did have my finger in Sarah’s pussy as we kissed; her legs draping over mine. Her scent, intoxicating as it wafted up from her groin. We were on the verge of getting passionate, very passionate, and I was thinking of sliding down under her legs and reappearing between them with a smile on my face.

We heard voices.

We stopped breathing, looked at each other with mouths open, eyes flicking left and right before we immediately spun around and ducked out of sight; peering over the top of the sofa towards the door.

Men’s voices. From outside. Not good.

We turned and ran for the back door in just the clothes we had on; closing it behind us just as the front door opened. I could hear the men say something about a funny smell in the room and I had to suppress a giggle. Sarah was way ahead of me and running away from the cottage. I wanted desperately to go back inside and grab some food, some water, some provisions of one sort or another. I was on the verge when I heard a man shout out.

“We got us some skirt here – she’s running away!”

The two men that entered the house left by the front door, and I had no alternative but to run and catch up with Sarah.

Soon, they were after us. One of them, the one that shouted was out of breath in the first hundred yards and he soon gave up. The other two continued to chase us to the edge of the hills where the mountainous region rose abruptly from the plain. It was there they gave up, but we carried on running, never stopping for breath and never looking behind us; focusing completely on our survival.

ooOoo

We have some respite in this ramshackle cottage. Sarah lays the table. I make the fire in the stove, boil the water, empty the rice into it and chop up the chilli peppers. Sarah did find some tomato sauce, which we emptied into the rice once it had soaked up most of the water.

While I cooked, Sarah hugged me from behind. It was a very loving moment that we shared. I smiled and stirred as she hugged me close and pecked at my neck with small tantalising touches of her lips. Her hands wandered every now and then; every time they did a smile broke out on my face.

We sat at the table and looked at the feast that we had cooked – we were starving. All that exercise is not good for you when you don’t have a regular supply of food.

I sat at the table and watched her devour her plate. Fork after fork disappeared into her mouth before she self-consciously stopped to look at me.

“What?” She said.

“Nothing,” I replied with a smile.

We ate.

Once we had finished we explored the house some more. At one point I thought I heard noises in the roof but Sarah put it down to the wind or rats. I secretly hoped it was the wind.

She called me into the lounge and asked whether I wanted to watch the television.

“We have a television!” I declared. She smirked and cocked her head to one side as if to say ‘you stupid or what.’

I had grown to love the way she looked scornful at me. I thought it was cute. What I also thought was cute was the way her breasts swayed under her shirt when she flopped on the sofa.

“Take it off.”

“What?”

“Off with it!”

She smiled and pulled her shirt over her head. The top two buttons were always undone; it was her ever-ready mode, as she liked to call it.

I knelt before her and pushed her thighs apart, pulled her forwards a little so that her bottom was on the end of the sofa and then sucked her nipple. I loved the sensation as it grew; hardening into an erect projectile with the warmth of my mouth. Once hard, I flicked it with my tongue, licked around it and cupped her flesh before proceeding to the other one.

Sarah was pushing her trousers over her bum by the time her second nipple had caught up with the first. I leant back to allow her to push her trousers down her thighs. She lifted her legs high in the air and pushed them all the way off; depositing them on the sofa to the side of her. Her legs spread wide as they wrapped around my waist. We kissed as my hands came upon her breasts to squeeze her nipples into submission.

I wanted her more than ever. If we weren’t running from something, we were fucking; only eating so that we could continue to fuck.

Out tongues mingled in our warmth, moist mouths. I pushed her hair behind her ears and leant in to kiss her neck. I knew she loved this, and she knew it was a precursor.  Sarah held me close for a little while as I peppered her neck with soft touches. With a smile on her face, she leant back on the sofa and pulled her legs up to her breasts; folding them behind her. She smiled over her pubis. It was a lascivious and wanton display on her part and I loved it. I had always loved it from the first time she displayed herself to me in that way.

I dipped my tongue along her crack, from her anus to her clit; prising her lips apart in the process. I let my tongue savour the moistness as I slowly shook my head from side to side; letting it sink in fully before lifting it upwards, over her mound and onto her clit.

Sarah sighed and moaned as I tongued her. I tried but struggled to get my own jeans free from my body. I had just about managed it when her hand came up behind my neck and encouraged my face to come closer. I delved my tongue into her moist honeypot, licking, sucking and playing alphabet letters on her engorged clit.

Sarah climaxed; crying out into the room as her climax hit. Her head had pushed back into the sofa and her bum was well and truly airborne.

My hands had found their way underneath her bum and I had cupped both her globes as I plunged my tongue inside her. I wasn’t letting up. She wouldn’t want me too. I knew that. I pushed my tongue forwards and thrust it into her pussy; my finger came up on her anus and it sank in like a knife through butter. I finger fucked her as I sucked and tongued her velvet passage. My eyes were closed and I was more or less feeling my way like I had done many times. My senses overloaded as I felt her pleasure rise within me. Every gasp, every grunt and every noise she made I converted and channelled it into more pleasure for her. I pushed her to the very brink, the very edge of the precipice.

Then I pushed her over the top and watched her fall. Oh, boy, did she fall. It was straight down, no harness, no safety net and definitely no modesty. She hit the bottom with such speed that I thought her lungs were going burst forth from her chest. Sarah bucked her hips so much that I could no longer keep her pussy in contact with my mouth. I pushed my finger into her anus in tune to her motions, but I had to be content and watch her face as she exploded obscenities at me.

In the relatively short time I had been with her, I had been called a lot of things:

Fucking whore,
Mischievous little twat,
Insatiable slut,
Come hungry monkey,
Squirter.

But when she called me, in that orgasmic moment, her ‘gorgeous, gorgeous, little fucker,’ my heart melted.

Without much warning, her legs unravelled and she sprung from the sofa and headed for the bedroom; I was forcibly tugged from my kneeling position and yanked along for the ride when she grasped my hand. Sarah pulled me hard until I hit the bed running and fell onto it.

She had immediately picked up the straps and penis that I had seen earlier. They were new to me and I had no idea why they were in this house, but she seemed to know exactly what to do with them.

I watched her fasten the last of the straps around her as I pulled myself up to the headboard. The penis hung menacingly from her groin. I watched in horror as to what she had become.

“Come here, you.”

She pulled me towards her and pushed my legs backwards. She knelt on the bed and with one hand and guided the penis to my snatch. She brushed it over my mound to lubricate it and before I knew it she had stuffed it into my pussy. It sank in with no trouble at all. Well, it would have done, every time I make her come like that, with her legs behind her head, my cunt oozes juice like oranges being squeezed. Sarah pulled my backside closer and started to fuck me with her new found masculinity.

I found my climax building quickly. Too quickly! I wanted to savour this moment; make it last. I wanted to stare into her eyes and memorise her rampant behaviour; her wide eyes, her open mouth, her grimace, her clenched teeth, her energy, her stamina. I wanted to record it all, for posterity if nothing else.

I came so hard that I squirted over her whole body; bending my cunt upwards and allowing my juices to hit her face and cover her breasts. I watched it flow back down like a river to the place we were conjoined.

Sarah pulled her cock from me and was about to slide off the bed to lick up my juices when I screamed.

I looked upwards to see a pair of eyes watch from a perforated air vent in the ceiling. When I screamed the eyes moved. The bedroom ceiling gave way and a man, no a boy, a teenager started to fall through the ceiling. I quickly rolled out of the way pushing Sarah to one side with my legs as I did so.

The boy fell onto the bed and started to scramble to the side immediately.

Sarah recovered the fastest; rolling on her side, she stood up and ran around to prevent the boy from running for the door. I shuffled off the bed and stood by the foot of it; preventing him from running around the room or for the window.

He was panting heavily, we all were, but he looked scared, extremely scared. Come to think of it, I think I would have looked scared if faced with a woman sporting a huge cock from her groin, especially a cock that was dripping with my juices.

“Sit!” It was Sarah that motioned to the boy to sit in the corner of the room. He took one wide-eyed look at her and complied. He pulled his legs into his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He was shaking.

“What’s your name?”

“M…Mark,” he panted.

“How old?”

“Sixteen, just gone, please don’t –”

“What are you doing here?”

“Heading over the mountain. I won’t hurt you. Please, I –”

Sarah lifted her head, her body relaxed a little and I knelt down by his side.

I smelt of sex. I was dripping wet. I raised my hand to stroke his face.

“It’s alright, I won’t hurt you, either,” I smiled.

He looked from me to Sarah and then to her groin; his eyes wide with freight.

“Neither will she,” I promised.