Run bsolo mf Fm m1st ped creampie masturbation

From the imagination of Chase Shivers

February 8, 2015

Storiesonline.net Members:
Bookmark | Kindle | EPUB | PDB | Zip | TXT

Please read my Explicit Disclaimer before you read my work.

To read the Author's Introduction to this series, click here.

Visit the Story Index to read other chapters.

Chapter 28: Rules

Chapter Cast:

Gene Polanski, Male, 45
- Business VP, husband of Tamara, father of Lauren, Finch, and Logan
- tanned beige skin, 6'1, 210lbs, short peppered grey-black hair
Tamara Khouri-Polanski (Taylor), Female, 43
- Professor, wife of Gene, mother of Lauren, Finch, and Logan
- dark olive skin, 5'6, 150lbs, shoulder-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights
Lauren Khouri-Polanski, Female, 15
- High school freshman, daughter of Gene and Tamara, sister of Finch and Logan
- medium olive skin, 5'8, 150lbs, back-length curly black-brown hair, colored white-streaked highlights
Finch Khouri-Polanski, Male, 14
- Eigth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Logan
- dark olive skin, 5'6, 145lbs, ear-length curly rich brown hair with natural red highlights
Logan Khouri-Polanski, Male, 12
- Sixth-grader, son of Gene and Tamara, brother of Lauren and Finch
- medium olive skin, 5'1, 110lbs, ear-length straight black hair
Holly, Female, 19
- Agent of Marker 1, Sister of Anna
- Bronze-tanned skin, 5'1, 100lbs, straight shoulder-length straw-blonde hair
Marcus Hannigan (Ben), Male, late-30s
- Former agent of M1 and Playa Gordo
- Pale, freckled skin, 5'11, 185lbs, short sandy-red hair
Erol, Male, ~16
- Turkish student
- Light-brown skin, 5'7, 135lbs, short, wavy black hair
Juliana, Female, 40ish
- wife of Dr. Henderson, mother of Hannah and Georges
- Dark tan skin, 5'0, 100lbs, long dark hair
Hannah, Female, 15
- daughter of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin sister of Georges
- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 160lbs, long dark-brown hair in a ponytail
Georges, Male, 15
- son of Dr. Henderson and Juliana, twin brother of Hannah
- Dark beige skin, 5'10, 165lbs, mousy dark-brown hair


Despite his earlier confidence, Gene was feeling less sure that he could keep his breakfast down. Holly had driven the pontoon hard over the growing swells, and the up-and-down motion was unsettling his sense of balance. The wind blew spray over him as he clung to the railing and tried not to be sick.

The short blonde showed no signs of being affected. She kept her gaze mostly straight ahead, her grip on the wheel steady and firm. Despite the protection in the cockpit, her clothes were soaked as much as Gene's.

After what felt like hours, Gene was still holding down his guts as Holly throttled back and slowed the boat down to minimal maneuvering speed. It had been light for over an hour, and already the sun heated the air. Holly called over to him, “we're here. Now we wait for them.”

“And they'll send a boat from the sub?” Gene groaned.

“Not a boat,” Holly shouted back, “a submersible. They'll take us down to the Cambridge.”

“Does it rock as badly as this piece of shit?”

“Dunno, Gene, never ridden on one. Hey, you get to experience a first with me, don't you just love it?”

Gene groaned again and tried not to watch the swells rising ahead of them.

- - -

The thrum of heavy machinery woke Tamara from a heavy slumber. It took her a moment to collect her thoughts and remember where she was. Hannigan had rolled into her, his head up, listening. He whispered, “we should move soon.”

Tamara nodded, stretched and slowly got to her feet. Her muscles felt loose and weak, her mind foggy. It had been a stressful and restless few days. Tamara hoped they could find a place to stop running very soon.

Hannigan looked better than he had the night before. His eyes were alert, though tendrils of blood filled the whites of his eyes. His beard was growing in, covering much of his face. Tamara kind of liked the look of the rugged Hannigan.

Tamara checked the front of the house and saw men and machines a few meters up the road. Hannigan motioned to the back door as they grabbed their sacks and tried to hide their weapons under jackets.

They moved out of the house and hugged the thicker tree line near the back of the property where it ran along a small, brackish drainage ditch. The air was thick with buzzing things and the smell of rotting wood. They found a small fountain near the entrance and quickly took the opportunity to wash their faces, hands, and genitals. In moments, they had reentered populated blocks and slowly made their way to the northwest.

There were a few people about, some looking haggard, most carrying big bags of things such as potatoes, clothing, and toilet paper. The few cars they saw ignored stop signs and raced past without pausing. Tamara knew that such light traffic was not a good sign.

They saw flights of fighter jets moving north several times that day, and on a small hill, they could see numerous warships on the Black Sea to the northeast.

They watched a moment as one of the dark-grey vessels began to turn and head out to deeper water, then another. A small patrol vessel followed a tug down the strait, heading south.

Loudspeakers exploded around them, the chatter of an excited Turkish speaker echoing around them. The man went on for a moment then went silent again.

“Any idea what he said?” Tamara asked.

“No... I don't speak Turkish.”

They heard a woman's muffled anguished cries from a building nearby, cars suddenly racing to the north and west. A man rushed out of small home, carrying a small child under his arm.

Sirens went off all over the city, the wailing mechanical drone designed to waken those sleeping, and to frighten those who might not take it seriously. Tamara was frightened, and she damn sure was taking it seriously.

Hannigan's head swivled. “We need to get to a bunker or basement. Those are air raid sirens.” They raced up the street as more people started running. Lines of them disappeared into a building now and then, and Tamara wondered if those were the best ones in the area to find shelter. She pointed to where a dozen people or so were rushing to go down steps into a half-sunken level of one building, motioning Hannigan to come with her.

They followed the dozen down a short set of steps and through a narrow hallway. Near the back, beside a large painting of a Turkish general on a horse, they climbed down a ladder, then followed as they descended another small set of stairs. Tamara rounded a corner in a short, narrow passage and entered a decent sized room with low ceilings and concrete walls. At least two dozen people were inside, a crying child and sobbing older man included.

Tamara pressed her back against a far wall and sank down on her butt, Hannigan right next to her. The sirens continued to be quite audible even below the ground. There were hushed whispers, many frightened eyes, people holding each other.

Tamara spoke to anyone who could listen, “does anyone speak English?”

A tall, light-brown-skinned young man, perhaps sixteen, raised his hand. “Yes, I can.”

“What is happening?”

“I'm not sure,” the man said, “we were told to seek basements and shelters immediately. We were not told why.”

“And this is the first time this has happened here?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry, we've been... out of touch... is Turkey at war?”

The young man looked at her oddly a moment. “Of course.”

“With who?”

“With the United States, the UK, Italy, Israel. Many others. How... how do you not know this?”

Tamara shook her head. “Very long story.

Hannigan asked, “have there been any nuclear attacks? Anywhere?”

The man shook his head, “not that I've heard about.”

Hannigan let out a breath and nodded, remained silent for a while.

Tamara wondered what it meant to them for Turkey and the USA to be at war. The young man walked up and said quietly. “Americans? Don't worry. This is a friendly neighborhood, we like Americans, don't want war. In the more traditional parts of the city, things are very different.” He bowed slightly, said, “my name is Erol.”

“Ta-- Taylor. My name is Taylor. This is Ben.” She'd nearly forgotten the pseudonyms they'd decided on. “Thanks, Erol.”

Erol looked at Hannigan a moment, turned back to Tamara. “Tourists?”

Tamara almost laughed. “Uh... yeah, that's pretty much it. We've been... off the grid for a few days, came back to a changed world, it seems.”

Erol nodded, said, “people have been looting everything the past two days. Some of us are lucky enough to get ahold of some of these, as well.” He raised his tan shirt to reveal a black handgun tucked into his pants. “For protection.”

Tamara nodded, “where are the police?”

“Oh, everywhere. But with the looting and rioting in places, they are stretched thin. They can't be everywhere. Supposedly the port is closed, no more ships in or out that don't have to pass through the ships out there.” His arm swept across towards the back of the room.

Tamara shared a quick look of gratitude with Hannigan as she realized how lucky they had been to arrive when they did. She asked Erol, “so, hoarding supplies, wearing a gun... are people also leaving the city?”

Erol shrugged, “probably. Not sure why, there's really nowhere to go. Lots of rumors, of course, maybe just rumors, but I've heard that the Americans landed near Gallipoli yesterday, or maybe it was the Italians. Also, we heard just this morning that the Turkish army is setting up tight roadblocks around the city. By tonight, so I hear, no one will get in or out easily. Just rumors, maybe. They don't tell us much, and the news is as confused as we are about all this.”

Hannigan muttered, looking at his feet, “Gallipoli... seriously... not those fights again.”

Erol tilted his head, asked, “what do you mean?”

The man looked up suddenly, said, “oh... there was a nasty, months-long campaign in World War I around Gallipoli. Your Ottoman forefathers tore up the Brits. Brutal fighting.”

“Ah, yes,” Erol replied, “I remember hearing something about that.” He knelt down and then sat next to Tamara, said quietly, “even in this room, probably best not to go announcing that you are Americans. Lots of them, along with Brits and others, have disappeared over the last couple of days. More rumors say there are prison camps where they are being held.”

Tamara shivered, unable to consider what being held prisoner in a Turkish camp might be like. “Thanks... I... I don't know what we'll do, but--”

The building shook as a shock wave pounded through, then another. Bits of concrete shook loose and snowed down on the people inside. Tamara's heart leapt with each shudder. They heard concussive booms, well-muffled in the basement, more shock waves. A woman joined the crying man, wailing louder the longer the shaking went on.

A closer explosion rocked the building. Tamara heard screaming from somewhere outside, then silence for a few seconds before another, even-closer explosion knocked out the lights and left them in the dark.

- - -

“Logan, would you like to go riding again this afternoon?” Juliana asked as the six of them finished breakfast and made ready to take care of the morning chores.

“Yes!” the twelve-year old replied.

“Great! I need you to do something for me, then. I'm sure the kids showed you how to check the saddles, right? Make sure they are ready to ride?”

Lauren smiled as Logan nodded his head.

“Be a dear and go out to the stables and check that we have six saddles ready? Take your time, make sure you do it right.”

“Ok!”

Lauren watched Logan run out the door and disappear. Juliana turned back to the remaining teens. She looked much too serious for a morning conversation. “The five of us need to have a talk.”

The teens sat silently, staring at the woman. She paused a moment, eyes meeting each boy and girl, then finally said, “I saw something last night that I didn't expect, and I'm not sure how to talk to you about it...”

She paused again, and Lauren's stomach turned over. Oh... no...

Juliana's chin came up. “I think you know what I mean... You weren't as sneaky as you thought going down to bunker three. What I saw when I came down there... well, there are no words.”

Four teens sat nervously, looks of horror on their faces. Lauren's whole world felt ready to rip open, their secret taboos laid bare for judgement and shame.

Juliana tried to collect herself, then said, “I'm not angry. But I am upset. What I saw is not something which should have happened.” She paused, sighed, her voice more gentle when she began again, looking from Hannah to Georges. “I should have known that you two might be tempted, all alone here... I should have known. It's our fault for this, we gave you no other options and you did what kids do...”

Georges looked at his sister, and Lauren could see that the twins were petrified.

Juliana turned to look into Lauren's eyes, then passed to Finch. “And you two... I barely know you... but there you were... just like my two... I can't put into words what I'm thinking right now. Like I said... I am upset. I never expected to see my own kids doing... that... or you two...”

Lauren couldn't have spoken if she wanted to, her throat tight and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, teeth locked together as her nerves rattled.

Juliana leaned back, took a deep breath. “Rules. Listen now. First, never, ever force anyone to do anything, yes? Hannah, this is consensual? Georges? Lauren? Finch?”

Four heads nodded, Lauren's eyes pleading.

“Fine. Second, Georges, Hannah... your father never finds out. Promise me, you two... He has enough to deal with without the incest... I'm not stupid, I won't try to stop you. However, you will never take a chance of being caught like that when he is here, and you'll go out of your way to keep me from seeing or hearing it, understood? Promise me.”

“Y-yes, of course.” Hannah mumbled, her face red and flushed. “I promise.” Georges echoed the sentiment.

“Third, Lauren, Finch, your brother is too young for this.”

Lauren couldn't stifle a nervous chuckle.

Juliana paused, asked, “tell me...”

Lauren's lips didn't move and she looked at Hannah. The tall twin let out a soft sigh, said, “not all of it... but... some stuff...”

“Good grief, Hannah, really?”

Hannah tried to sink lower in her seat.

Juliana let out a long breath, “fine, fine. Then you will go over with him the rules, then.” Juliana stood and glanced at the wine rack, quickly popped the cork on a bottle of red and poured herself a full glass. She shook her head, said, “my god, children. This is quite an unusual morning...” Juliana took a long swill and swallowed. She looked at each of them. “Ok. For now, this is over. Remember what I said.” She looked up at the sound of the door opening and Logan rushing in. “Ah, just in time.” She gave each teen one last hard look and disappeared down the hall.

- - -

“Hands up! Hands up now!” A man's shout came from behind Gene and he wheeled off the starboard rail to see a dark figure a few meters out in the rough ocean, his head barely above the water, a small black weapon pointed at them. A second person popped up nearby, a similar gun in his hands. “Now! Do it now!”

Gene's hands shot into the air, and he saw Holly do the same further back.

“Move forward and turn away from me. Hurry!”

Gene did as told, shaky legs barely supporting him as the boat rocked heavily. He held onto the railing and stood on the bow, looking forward. Holly was beside him, whispered, “standard procedure. Just do what they say.”

Gene nodded, barely able to think. He heard splashing then the boat rocked back towards the port side. Another splashing sound and another rock.

“Stay where you are. Answer: Are you armed?”

“Yes.” Holly answered.

“Do not move! Your weapons will be removed.”

Rough hands were over Gene immediately, pulling the pistol from his holster and the knife from the band on his leg. Holly was quickly stripped of her own.

“Names!”

“Agent Holly Bridgewater, First Nightwing, five-alpha-omega-seven.” Her head tilted slightly towards Gene, and she continued. “Gene Polanski, high-value protected, confirmation delta-delta-four.”

Gene nearly fell as the boat sloshed over a large wave. The man shouted at him immediately. “Do not move!”

Holly held his waist as his stomach turned over and felt like jelly.

There was a long silence from the men, only the creaking boat and splashing water rising above the roaring wind.

“You are cleared,” the first man said loudly. “You will go with us, one at a time, to TV-106. You will be escorted down immediately.”

The other man grabbed Gene's arm and brought him to the back of the boat. In a thicker, Germanic accent, the man said roughly, “get into the water and swim out a few meters.” Gene swallowed his fear of being swept away and jumped in. The sea rushed over his head and it took him a moment to come to the surface. By the time he could see again, he was already several meters away.

The second man splashed in and was at his side immediately. He pressed a secondary breather into Gene's mouth and motioned him to follow closely. They dove quickly, the sensation of being several feet underwater leaving Gene's ears feeling thick. He had dived before, but never in such a terrifying manner. He sucked at the oxygen, starving for each breath.

A dull grey shape appeared below them in the darker, deeper water. As they drew closer, the submersible became recognizable. It was the size of a bus, and the man led him towards a hatch on the top. The hatch opened automatically and the man directed Gene inside.

He dropped in and the hatch closed behind him. For a moment, he was sloshed around in the water-filled compartment, then he felt the pressure change and air was forced in quickly, pushing the water out through unseen drains.

In moments, he was leaning against the metal wall, dripping and shivering from the cold water. A buzzer sounded twice, then a small door retracted towards the front of the vessel. A small, dark-haired woman wearing a dark-blue diving suit motioned him forward. Gene crawled through, the door returning to its closed position.

“Polanski, yes?”

Gene nodded.

“Marisa. Sit here. The rest will be along shortly.” She offered him a towel the size of a blanket. “Dry off, then we'll go up to the cockpit.”

Gene did so, feeling seasick again despite the relative calm of the submersible. Marisa offered him a small bottle of a brownish liquid. “Drink this. Will help you adjust to the depth.”

It tasted like iodine and celery, but Gene downed it in one gulp, hoping that it might also help his nausea.

Marisa moved forward through a two-foot wide opening and disappeared in the next room as the chamber closed off again. Gene sat shivering long after he was dry, kept the towel over him to try to conserve warmth.

He felt the vessel shudder slightly, then heard a mechanical whine in the first chamber. Moments later, Holly was beside him, drying herself on another towel, the two divers shedding their suits and pushing past them in their underwear.

Holly looked at Gene, an amused look in her eye, “a first, eh?”

“I could go for a fifth of something about right now.”

- - -

The bombings came in waves throughout the morning. Tamara slowly learned to steady her fear. She'd accepted that what happened was out of her control. If they were directly under a strike, they'd be killed. If the building gave way, there was nothing to do but try to grow smaller.

An older man walked over and spoke to Erol in Turkish. Several times the man pointed to Tamara and Hannigan, growing more agitated as the minutes went by. Erol appeared calm, or at least as calm as a young man could be in a bomb shelter during an attack.

The older man stepped back slightly and Erol turned to Tamara. “He says that there are rules you must follow if you are staying with us.”

“Rules?” she asked.

“Everyone brought food, water, clothing, supplies. We've had plans for years for these things, even if never used. He wants to know... what you can share that helps us? If we share our food and water with you... it means less for all of us... can you offer anything to help?”

Tamara said, “we have a little food, maybe a day of water each. A few extra clothes. I... I don't know what else...”

Hannigan leaned over her, said, “we also have these...” He opened his jacket to reveal the compact automatic strapped to his chest, as well as the pistol in the holster over his shoulder. Tamara took her cue and revealed her own gun. “We can fight if we must.”

Erol spoke to the older man in Turkish a moment, then asked Hannigan, “are you military?”

Hannigan shrugged, “of sorts.”

The old man chattered, then Erol said, “then you lead us when we fight, yes? Other than this man, Asil, none of us have any training. He served many years for Turkey, but he is old and cannot think like he once did. He asks that you lead us if we fight.”

Hannigan nodded. “As long as we're here, I can do that. I need to know a few things. How many weapons? What types? How much ammunition?”

Erol called to the room and several responses came back. He called again, then replied, “four pistols, four AK47s, a shotgun, and two hunting rifles. Um... maybe a hundred rounds for each weapon.”

Hannigan nodded, “ok, not horrible, but one firefight and we're done. Anyone have experience shooting? Hunting?”

Erol asked and said, “yes, this man, and that man. They have shot their pistols previously.”

“Ok...” Tamara could see Hannigan's mind working quickly. “I want it clear right now. If we fight, you take orders from me. Period. Taylor here is my second in command. Those two men will lead two fire teams. Have the men with weapons split into two teams, divide the types of weapons as evenly as possible between the teams. Erol, whatever happens, you are by my side to translate, got it?”

The young man looked excited to be given an important role. “Yes, absolutely!”

“Tell the room this: If you have a weapon, you are going to protect those who do not. Anyone without a weapon will take my orders as well.” Erol translated rapidly. “We fight only if we must to protect ourselves, only as a last resort. But if we fight, we do it aggressively and without mercy, understood?” Heads nodded as Erol relayed his words.

“Good.” Hannigan leaned back, hand on Tamara's leg. He spoke more quietly to Erol. “I doubt we'll see military force from outside this deep in the city anytime soon, certainly not if the Turk army is as strong as it should be in this area. We're far more likely to come up against other civilians or thugs.” Hannigan thought a moment. “Who is leading this group when we're not fighting?”

Erol pointed, said, “Asil. He is an elder in the neighborhood. We follow him.”

“Tell him I'm his second, then. If I'm going to lead when the guns are firing, I need to be able to lead when they're not, as well.”

Erol passed on the statement and Asil nodded.

Sirens fired up again. Hannigan continued. “Supplies. How many days can we stay here without needing resupply?”

After a conversation with Asil, Erol said, “Two days if we are careful. Then we run low on food, another day or so on the water we have.”

A shockwave hit the building, the first in over an hour, then another. Tamara muttered, “if we live that long.” Hannigan pinched her leg to silence her moody thoughts, and she acknowledged that wasn't the sort of admission you made out loud in such a stressful and powerless situation.

“Ok,” Hannigan replied, “ok... Then I assume Asil suggests we sit tight, at least until tonight, then a few of us poke our heads out and see what we see.”

Asil nodded when Erol relayed the message.

“Then tonight, Taylor and I are going out, and Erol, you're coming with us, yes?”

Erol almost smiled despite the terror in his eyes. “Yes, Ben. I am.”

- - -

The cockpit of the submersible was crowded. All six seats were occupied. Holly and Gene sat in the back, Marisa and an unknown man in the front seats, with the two divers to the sides. The motion of the vessel was a bit unsettling, the way it slid through the dark water leaving Gene's body feeling disconnected from the usual effects of gravity. His nausea was better, though, so as they sat silently during the ride, he thanked no one in particular for that minor miracle.

A huge dark shape appeared to their front, and as they grew closer, it appeared larger and larger. The Cambridge was a massive shape against the dark-green Atlantic, and the submersible held a steady course towards it until, at the last minute, it slid down the side and slipped into an opening near one end of the long cylinder.

It was almost like entering the submersible. The vessel locked into a small mechanism, and moments later, the water drained away, leaving the much smaller vehicle stationary against one side of the otherwise empty bay. Marisa stood, hunching over, said, “out that way. Someone will be waiting for you up top. They'll explain the rules and what happens next.”

Gene followed Holly back into the first compartment, the hatch already open, a dark-skinned woman looking down at them. She motioned Holly up and the short blonde climbed quickly, then Gene followed. A man caught his arm as the woman helped Holly onto the deck, and Gene was soon beside her, feeling very tired and his mind slowing and feeling thick.

The divers and the unknown pilot moved past them and disappeared into a passageway.

A man stepped out of the passageway, said, “welcome to the Cambridge, Mr. Polanski, Ms. Bridgewater.”

Gene's legs gave way suddenly and he found himself on his knees, head swimming. Holly held his arm and squatted down, “gah. Timing is definitely off. We should have had a few more hours. Hang in there, Gene. The crash is... uncomfortable...”

Gene's eyes were already closed as he fought for consciousness. Every muscle cried out in agony, his heart beat felt irregular, his breathing much more difficult than the days before. He started to panic, grasped at the floor, and sank into a deep blackness.

- - -

“I'll catch up, need to stop to pee.” Juliana slowed her horse and fell behind Logan as the others kept a steady pace through the trees. Logan felt his bladder straining, too, so he slowed down and climbed off his horse near where the woman had stopped.

She eyed him a moment. Logan said, “I need to go, too.” Without another thought, he pulled down his pants and started urinating beside the trail.

Juliana's eyes stared at his groin a few seconds before she shook herself and asked, “uh, Logan... do you usually do that in front of other people?”

He shrugged, remembering the trip to Switzerland in the convoy, said, “soldiers do.”

“And you're a soldier, then?”

Logan nodded. “I want to be a hero, so I have to be a soldier.”

Juliana laughed, shrugged, and turned away from him. She dropped her tan riding pants to her ankles and squatted down. From that angle, Logan could only see the side of her body, but he heard her urine splashing quickly, and he could see the stream splattering on the grass.

Juliana caught him watching, said, “Logan... not really polite to stare.”

Logan replied, “you watched me. Only fair.”

She shook her head again.

Logan's penis grew hard watching the woman peeing. It wasn't so much the pee itself, but she was exposed, the fleshy curve of her ass pale and delightful. His stream stopped and he continued to hold his little cock, slowly stroking it to the sight before him. Logan recalled watching the woman masturbating the night before, wished she would do it again.

Juliana's urine stopped and she shook her hips forward. She rose, started to pull her pants up, and froze, her eyes watching Logan slowly jerking off.

He couldn't stop. The way she faced him left him a lovely view of her dark, trimmed bush. He'd seen his sister like that and wished she was there then. But the short woman's surprise was Logan's treat, and his fist moved faster along his length.

Juliana yanked her panties up, froze again, said, “Logan... that's not something you should do in front of someone without permission. Understood?”

He realized she was right, stopped stroking, but continued to hold his dick. “Uh... right... I know... Can I... uh... Can I?”

“What?” The woman sounded shocked.

“Can I do this in front of you? Just once?”

“Uh...” She sounded unsure of what to say. Logan watched the woman begin to sweat, her panties pulled up but the dark hairs around her vulva visible through the thin white fabric.

“Please?”

She didn't say a word, but Logan took her short, quick nod for permission. His fingers moved again, his penis suddenly throbbing in his hand. He groaned, his cock swelling, Juliana's eyes frozen on his genitals. He humped his fist, burned, swelled, and ejaculated. Cum spurted out once, twice, onto the grass beside Juliana. A third shot went wild, splashing onto her pants-covered knee, a fourth spurt fired between her feet.

Cum dribbled out and slowed, Logan breathing heavily. He quickly tucked his cock back into his pants and started to feel embarrassed. He could barely glance at where the woman stood in shock, sheer panties covering her sex, Logan's hot, slippery cum running down her pant leg.

“Sorry... uh... sorry... I didn't mean to... Really... I.. I can't always control it...”

Juliana sputtered a moment before she finally said, “just... just get back on the horse, Logan. This never happened, ok? Never.”

He nodded and got back in the saddle, the short woman suddenly on her horse and moving past him. He could see where she had attempted to wipe away his sperm with her hand, dark, wet streaks down the fabric ending in whitish foam.

They rode a moment, Logan right behind her. He thought he heard a moan from the woman, then another, another. Her body was shifting back and forth in the saddle more than it should, and when she shuddered and moaned again, Logan was fairly certain she'd just orgasmed. The woman said nothing and picked up the pace, leaving Logan to grin to himself and enjoy the way his penis was rubbing against his underwear and growing hard once more.

- - -

Tamara, Hannigan, and Erol didn't walk far enough to see any bomb craters, but plenty of buildings had caved in, rubble in large piles randomly. It was a troubling scene. There were a few others out, shocked, weary faces on all. The trio had moved north a couple of blocks before moving back south. They didn't want to go far from the bunker.

They'd broken into a couple of shops and found several dozen loaves of stale bread, tea bags, and a couple small containers of water. After bringing those back to the bunker, Hannigan wanted to scout east and west of their area, taking Tamara and Erol with him once more.

They kept their weapons beneath jackets. Hannigan had warned, “don't take them out unless I say so or unless you plan to shoot someone. The fewer people know we have them, the easier it is to avoid their interest.”

They walked east a couple of blocks, turned back. A large group of men, perhaps twenty, were moving south down a main street. Two held small automatic rifles, two others brandished small swords or large knives. Hannigan led them quickly back towards the bunker.

“Wait here,” he said. “I want to make sure those men keep going. We'll go west once I get back, then we're done for the night.”

Tamara nodded and crouched down next to Erol in an entrance to a cracking home a few doors from the shelter building. Hannigan crept off to the east quietly.

Erol was doing an amazing job as far as Tamara was concerned. The teen had kept his cool even though it was clear he was frightened. “Are you in school, Erol? Normally, I mean...”

“Yeah... wanted to study history. Now... Guess we're living it, right?”

“Suppose so... Scared?”

He nodded, “yes. 'Shitless' I think is the way you say it, yes?”

“Shitless, yes. Me too.”

Erol looked pensive, said, “I don't want to die.”

“Me either.”

“I haven't even gotten to do all things I thought I'd do by now. It just sucks this is happening now.”

“Sorry, Erol. This is hard on all of us. Hang in there.”

He looked at her a moment, then whispered, “you know the worst part? If I die... I die a virgin...”

“Oh... uh... sorry...”

“Of all the things I haven't done... It's just really unfair.” He laughed darkly. “Weird, right? I'm scared shitless and that's all I can think about.”

Tamara flashed to her son, Finch. Where is he? If he's dead... he would have died a virgin, too. Don't be dead, Finch. Please. “I've been having... strange thoughts, too. All the stress, you know. It does that to you.”

She saw Hannigan creep back to their position. He knelt and whispered, “ok, they went way on down, so I think we're ok, now. Any idea who they were, Erol?”

The teen shook his head, “no. Looters, rapists, fundamentalists. No idea.”

“Right. Let's get moving. Erol, can you show us where you said that electronics shop was?”

“Sure. Follow me.”

The teen moved off and Hannigan followed with Tamara a few feet behind the boy. Tamara watched the teen, feeling very sad for him suddenly. To not know a lover was something Tamara couldn't imagine. She'd been sexually active since she was fourteen, and tried to envision what it might be like to be Erol, a virgin in the middle of a war where he might be killed at any moment. Strangely, it brought a very motherly feeling, but not one most mothers would consider acceptable.

Tamara whispered, “Hannigan... I know we're in a hurry, but... can I have just five minutes alone with Erol?”

He skipped a step, looked at her oddly, “what? Why?”

She nodded ahead, said very quietly, “I just.. He told me he doesn't want to die a virgin, and... and maybe I kinda want to make sure he doesn't.”

Hannigan stopped in his tracks. “Seriously?”

“Are you jealous?”

He hesitated just enough that Tamara knew he was. “No. No, of course not. Just... we're exposed out here, Tamara. This is dangerous right now.”

“I know. I didn't mean here, just... maybe once we get back to the bunker, I can take Erol into a room upstairs first... just five minutes.”

Erol had turned back to watch them from a few meters away. Hannigan watched the teen a moment, let out his breath. “It's your body. If you want to make that boy's day... fine. Wait till we're back, and make it quick.”

Tamara nodded and they caught up to their guide in seconds.

Erol showed them the electronics store. It had been ransacked. There were no batteries or terribly useful equipment. Hannigan did find a small antenna and some wires, tucked those into his sack, and led them back to the bunker.

Hannigan paused at the door, looked at Tamara, said, “five minutes. Then I'm coming to get you. If you hear that siren...”

“I know. Thank you, Marcus.”

He groaned. “Don't start calling me that. It just reminds me of my wife.” He disappeared down the steps.

Erol looked at Tamara oddly as she turned to him. “Aren't we going in?”

“Erol... about what you said earlier... Look... I don't know what's going to happen, alright? No one does. I don't know if I will live through this or not, or you. I have no control over that. But... what you said earlier... If you would like... we can make sure together that you aren't facing whatever as a virgin...”

He was speechless a few seconds, “are you offering to have sex with me?”

Tamara nodded. “It won't be romantic or all that clean... and we have to be very quick, but... yes... if you would like that...”

He nodded vehemently. “Yes! Yes, please... Seriously?”

Tamara looked down the hallway where the room looked mostly intact. “Come on, we have to be quick.”

She took his hand and led him into a room with a small bed, the design suggesting a young girl had lived there. Tamara pulled down the teen's pants and found his long, thin penis mostly-hard already. She smiled at him, then kissed his forehead, her fingers slowly stroking his length. “I wish we had time for all the fun stuff, but how about I just turn around and let you enjoy yourself?”

Erol stammered, “oo-ok... ok... I've never done it.”

Tamara laughed. “Hence you're a virgin.” She pulled her pants to her knees, her panties as well and turned around, bending over the bed. “Don't worry. Things fit together as you might expect. You'll get the hang pretty quick.”

Erol moved behind her, uncertain what to do. Tamara reached between her legs and took his cock again, the tip drooling precum. She rubbed the head along her slit and the boy groaned. Tamara settled back, guiding his penis into her body. She felt him jerk as she took him inside.

She said over her shoulder, “congratulations, Erol. You're no longer a virgin... hurry, now... hump me... go ahead and finish inside me...”

Erol's body started jerking and thrusting, his movements ragged, urgent. His length felt great inside her vagina, and though she wasn't building her own orgasm, she enjoyed the way the boy's young hips slapped against her ass.

He fucked her raggedly for a minute or so before he groaned. Tamara felt him swell in her pussy, then a warm sensation rushed through her cunt. Erol ejaculated his load inside her rapidly, breathing quickly, his penis slipping out almost immediately. Tamara felt his cum drool down her thigh.

She righted herself and pulled up her pants, then tucked his penis back in his own. She smiled and kissed his lips gently. “Hope you enjoyed that... maybe someday we'll have a chance to do it properly.”

Erol nodded. “Thank you... uh, thank you... Taylor... uh... wow... I'm not a virgin? I'm not a virgin!”

Tamara laughed, took his hand, “come on, not-a-virgin. We need to get back down below.” As if on cue, the sirens went off nearby and they quickly scuttled down below, the grin on Erol's face not going anywhere despite the frightening noise and imminent explosions. Tamara settled back against the wall with Hannigan. He offered her a measured look, then shrugged, smiled tightly and pulled her head to his shoulder. Erol's cum dripped out of her vagina slowly, making her sticky panties creamy and slick once more.

- - -

The soft knock on his door woke Finch not long after he'd went to bed. Logan lay snoring on his stomach nearby. All day, Finch had been tied in knots over the conversation with Juliana. She'd not left them alone at all that day. The short woman had seemed rather distracted after the horseback ride, avoiding eye contact with him and everyone else. Finch felt queasy just thinking about the talk they'd had that morning, his emotions having gone from soaring euphoria to deep embarrassed in the span of just a few hours.

The door opened slightly and Finch sat up slowly. Hannah's head appeared. “Hey...” she said in the lightest of whispers. “Can we talk a minute?”

Finch stood and made sure Logan was still asleep before following the tall fifteen-year old out to the hall and down to her bedroom. They slipped inside and Hannah sat on the edge of the bed. Finch stood until she motioned him to sit beside her.

“So... that was weird this morning, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Finch replied. “Weird.”

Hannah nodded. “I can't believe she isn't screaming at us. Mom doesn't get mad too often, but... I just can't believe she isn't mad.”

Finch thought of his own mother, and he couldn't stop from wondering how she might handle seeing him with Lauren like that. He imagined she'd be furious. “Think she hates us? Me and Lauren? She probably thinks we're sick.”

“She doesn't hate you... no. But... I dunno. We know, right? That it... isn't normal to have sex with your sister or brother. Not to most people, right?”

Finch nodded. “Definitely...”

Hannah pursed her lips. “I can't help but still like doing it, you know? Like... Like I can't not do it. I love Georges... He makes me feel special. And before you all got here, we didn't have anyone else...”

Finch smiled at her. “I think it's awesome. I... I had wanted to be with Lauren more and more as we ran from home. I just... I wanted to make her feel special, too...”

“She does, Finch, she does. I can tell. She looks at you like a lover, now. I can tell.”

“The way Georges looks at you, right?”

“Exactly,” the fifteen-year old responded.

“So...” Finch asked, “what's wrong with that?”

Hannah shook her head, replied, “not a thing.” Her hand was on his knee, then she turned and smiled at Finch. “So... I've got you alone in my room, just the two of us. Want to take it slow this time?”

Finch grew erect as the fifteen-year old's hand stroked his thigh, then his cock through his underwear. Hannah mewled as she kissed him, pushing him onto his back on the bed.

They curled up together, kissing and touching softly for over an hour. It was possibly the most enjoyable hour Finch had ever lived. He was hard the whole time, in no rush to cum. His fingers moved over Hannah's body, over and through her intimate places, small sighs and soft giggles coming easily.

Hannah rolled to her back and pulled Finch over her, the teen's legs spreading, the fourteen-year old's penis resting against her hairy Mons. Hannah whispered, “do me slow, Finch... like lovers...”

Finch thought of the morning he'd fucked Lauren on her side. That was probably more like what she wanted. The head of his dick felt hot skin press back as he tried to slide into Hannah's vagina. Instead, it slid up over her clit and she gasped. He pulled back, enjoying the way she'd shuddered at the motion, and did it again, another gasp.

Her wetness made the underside of his shaft and head grow slippery as each pass started just at the top of her vagina and moved slowly up over her hard clit. Hannah was slowly writhing in circles, her arms around Finch's shoulders.

One long stroke back repositioned his penis and he pushed slowly into the teen's tight pussy. Hannah let out a loud groan before she caught herself, a small, light whine coming from her throat. Finch repeated slow, slow, like lovers in his head, staring down at the beautiful girl underneath him. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back, her lips parted. He leaned down and kissed her neck, again and again trailing his lips over her skin.

She shuddered, writhed in soft circles, another shudder. Finch kissed her lips, then pushed his tongue into her mouth, slow twirls shared between them. Hannah moaned into his mouth, the vibration making Finch swell as his cock slipped through the fifteen-year old's velvet folds. Her body pressed up against him, again, again her crotch rose, her clit driven into Finch's groin.

Hannah suddenly wrapped her arms around Finch's head, her knees arching with her back. Finch felt the girl's vagina tighten and strain as she came around his young penis. Finch was overcome with arousal, the beautiful orgasming fifteen-year old under him making him grind against her, grind, humping her just a touch faster.

Her eyes opened and she drove her tongue back into his mouth. Her arms moved down to his lower back and pulled him into her with her hands and thighs. Finch exploded inside Hannah's vagina, his semen boiling out, boiling, spurting as he moaned into the teen's mouth. His cock burned as he came, the hot pussy around it milking every creamy, sticky drop of semen inside.

Finch lay over top of Hannah for several minutes, kissing her, his half-hard penis held snugly in the teen's hole, his cum pooling warm around the tip. Hannah let out a light giggle and kissed his cheek. “Mmm... a girl could get used to this...”

Finch smiled, euphoria rippling through him still, “as could a guy.”


End of Chapter 28

Read Chapter 29