Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Day Of No Triffids Part: Chapter 6 Summary: In a world gone blind a few remaining sighted must try to preserve what they can but how will just 6 men manage to keep 400 women happy? Keywords: Mmf, voy, oral, nc-nosex Language: English Copyright: 2003 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* *** August 28/29 - Peter & Barry Things had settled down. Peter and Barry sleepily kept watch over the horde of people, mainly women, occasionally assisting one to or from the toilets. The women themselves had tended to calm each other down during the day, having a quiet weep together when one of their number got worked up. Most had gone through a spell of intense despair before being picked up and, though their relocation brought some calm, there was no feeling of euphoria in their salvation. The change in their status and circumstances was too great; so many friends, loved ones and acquaintances were lost to them. Most had felt some degree of depression during the day. The biggest problem in the short term for the blind was going to be boredom, for the sighted it was going to be being overworked. Many of the people spread around the gym had held professional positions yet were now faced with a lifetime of what they considered uselessness. Deb had realised this when they had been first brought in and had tried to divert them before such a mindset took hold. She had worked in and subsequently managed a large office for almost 11 years now and was used to dealing with and motivating a group of people. It wasn't just make-work though. This was a group of intelligent people and their contributions would be important to everyone's future. Soon after their arrival Deb sorted the blind, including her relatives, into groups of about eight and suggested each group run their own brainstorming session about what would be needed in the next few days. She wanted a prioritised 'must have' list and a 'wish' list; the challenge was to be able to do it without pen and paper but challenges were what Deb hoped would keep them at least occupied. It had been worthwhile in more than one way and their contributions had been received with grateful thanks. The sighted may have ended up with an effective power of life and death over their new community but they all realised they were by no means omniscient. Every suggestion was taken very seriously as the worthless ones had been countered during the discussions through the day. When they realised they were recognised as having more to contribute than their wombs many of the women did begin feeling better about their futures. With the end of their first group meeting they settled for the night and the gym quietened as individual discussions faded. Peter and Barry weren't sure at first if being on night shift was a good thing or not. They were tired but not so much that they couldn't keep each other awake for seven or eight more hours. What pissed them off more was when David led his nice- looking teacher off to his room. She was on his list so they weren't objecting to the selection but rather to the fact that they were missing out on working through their own lists. "Lucky twerp" thought David's cousin. Still their time would come. As the night wore on the curious males decided to review the lines of "troops". That afternoon there had been a massive effort to empty a nearby furniture wholesaler's warehouse of a good proportion of their sheets, pillows and doonas, all of their mattresses and a few actual beds. Each sighted person had been allocated a room and a large bed was installed in place of whatever previous furniture was present. The balance of the mattresses had been laid out in the gym in double rows and the occupants had been directed to lie with their heads nearest the walkway. This gave Peter and Barry an opportunity to easily pass up and down each column as they checked out which of the women the considered to be most attractive. They both had asked for certain friends and acquaintances to be rescued if possible but they knew they would be expected to augment their personal lists from the women sleeping at their feet. If they had to add some strangers as bed-mates they weren't opposed to finding the best looking ones, and bidding for them first if possible. Most of the women were fast asleep and therefore were unaware of the youthful scrutiny; a few however did stir on hearing their footsteps and a couple managed to hear their complimentary comments. One, a reasonably attractive teen in a crumpled school uniform stood by her mattress, a signal she needed to relieve herself. The two young men walked quietly over to her and gallantly led her off between them, arm in arm. When she got away from the sleeping area she whispered to them, "I don't really need to go. I wasn't sleepy and just wanted to get to know you." Peter and Barry didn't mind having some company to help keep them awake, especially this sort, and they escorted her back to the lounge chairs they had put around one corner of the large gym so they could talk without disturbing the sleepers. "Have you got anything to drink?" she asked as she sat on the seat provided. "There's beer", said Peter. "What's your name?" "Angela. That's good thanks." Peter got three from the nearby ice chest and handed one to Barry. He opened another and wrapped her hand around it before sitting beside her. Barry, sitting on the other side of the sofa, grinned across her lithe form at his cousin; his leg rubbed against hers as she had to move a little closer to make room for Peter. She took a drink and turned to her right. "Which one are you then?" After a slight pause she heard, "Peter and that's Barry." He had been looking at the view where the top of her formerly white blouse was gaping open and had to think twice to recall her question. "Hello Peter." Angela turned to her left. "Hello Barry. Why don't you tell me about yourselves then." Great conversationalist that he was, Peter began. "Well I'm 19 and I was working for an engineering company while I was studying. Barry's 17, he's been finishing High School. As you probably know, we're cousins." "Any girlfriends?" She directed the question at Barry, wanting to get a feel for his nature as well. He wasn't really shy and quiet, it was just he had been drinking so his cousin got in first. Neither male was the sort to sit listening attentively if they could expound on their own exploits. "No. Well now I have plenty I suppose but there was no- one serious. "How about you Peter?" "No. A few friends but I was too busy to see anyone on a steady basis." The two young men had both had brief opportunities to speak to the equally young women on their "specials" list when they had picked them up and in passing but, like the others, they had been too busy and then too exhausted to really make time to sit down to chat. It was also a question of who to talk to first. You suddenly found yourself with over a dozen "girlfriends", some of whom were mutually antagonistic and all of whom had basically only got the "job" because you very nearly fell into the category of "if you were the last man on Earth" - it wasn't a situation where normal social conventions applied. Neither of them wanted to be seen picking favourites when in a very short while they may have decided someone else was a lot more desirable. More to the point how did you avoid picking someone last! It was easier to let sleeping dogs lie (a bad analogy as none of the girls on their lists were unattractive nor particularly bitchy), at least for the first night. Angela had casually rested her hand on Barry's leg while she tilted the bottle up, a fact which Peter noticed with some dismay. He wondered if he should leave them together and make another trip around the gym in the hope of finding someone else who wanted a chat. Barry didn't mind though and figured if that was what she wanted who was he to argue, and he responded in kind, letting his wrist move her pleated skirt a little higher as he put his hand on the soft warm skin of her inner thigh. He grinned at Peter when Angela moved hers closer to his balls and nodded his head to indicate Peter should stroke her other leg. Angela drained the bottle and held it out in Peter's general direction. When he took it from her she reached for his leg and leaned back against the sofa. At his touch she moved her legs apart so the two young men could both caress her skin without having their knuckles colliding. It also, purely by accident surely, left the gusset of her knickers openly accessible to their view and their gentle hands, should the boys so desire. "I hope you boys know how to treat a girl right." "You like to be treated 'Right', do you?" asked Pater. "Oh yes. I can be very appreciative you know." She rubbed her hands over the bulges in their pants. "What's your life story then?" asked Barry as his hand travelled from knee to cotton. "All of it? No? Well, I had a couple of boyfriends who between them were keeping me comfortable if you understand but my Dad decided sending me off to an all- girls school might get me away from my oh-so-undesirable friends and that the nuns would keep me out of trouble. I guess they did at that; I haven't even seen a hard cock for over six months." She rubbed and kneaded the boys and they in turn worked their own magic as they took turns to rub her pussy through the thin, and gradually dampening, fabric. Peter looked around. The room was quiet and they weren't expecting visitors; everyone was going to be getting up at dawn and they were getting as much sleep as possible - at least that was the plan and those who couldn't sleep were at least being considerate of those who could. He lifted the edge of the fabric away from Angela's pubes and Barry slipped his fingers under it and into the wet slit. He was grateful to his older cousin and made a mental note to return the favour. Peter left her pussy to Barry and unzipped his own fly before starting on the girl's school uniform. "How old are you?" he asked as he started on the row of buttons bisecting her nipples. "I was sixteen last month. Just after the first cases appeared here. My parents got so scared they wouldn't even let me come home for my birthday; the bastards thought I might catch it on the bus and give it to them. It serves them right, they got it two weeks before me, probably from one of poor Daddy's business friends." The vitriolic outburst amazed the young men, especially as Angela had begun a vigorous pumping of Peter's peter as she got worked up. Barry felt he was missing out with his clothing hindering her efforts with her left hand. He removed his own from inside her underwear to unbuckle his pants. He stood and dropped them, then turned to slip his hands up the outsides of her legs. Catching the fabric in his clawed fingers he drew the panties down, Angela willingly assisting by lifting her hips off the seat. As he lifted each slim leg out of the garment he took the opportunity to look up along the pale skin to the brown bushy patch just visible under the serge skirt. The movement of her hand drew his eyes to his cousin's exposed penis. Angela must have pulled it out of his pants while Barry was busy at her ankles. "Wow!", he thought. "Just how big is he?" Barry had never been embarrassed about his penis which "stood" about 16 cm long depending on where you actually started measuring. His cousin though seemed to have a third of that again. Even with some tucked inside his pants there was still plenty to see either side of the pretty girl's hand. And she was pretty. Especially below the chin! Barry's eyes turned away from his cousin and back to the now open blouse. Two pale orbs filled the plain white bra; obviously it wasn't just the visible uniform that was under strict control. There was no lace and the cups were full circles; no suggestion of cleavage, in fact there was little skin to see anywhere. More reminiscent of the fifties than anything crafted from the decadent 60's onwards Barry wondered where on Earth they found them. He couldn't remember ever seeing anything like them in the lingerie adverts he had spent many hours perusing. The fabric did it's best to hide the two bumps that showed Angela was at least enjoying the attention she was getting. Barry stood and slipped his hands behind her back so he could lift her blouse out of the way; Peter would then be able to undo the chastity bra. Barry thought he would see if he could find something she might look a little nicer in. As Angela leaned forward in turn she bumped her cheek against Barry's erect cock and turned to take it into her mouth. She didn't know if it had been deliberately positioned there and didn't really care. "ALL boys like to have their dick's sucked", she figured. Considering the current world situation, it dawned on her that she now actually COULD be the first person to carry out a personal survey to see if that was indeed the case. Barry realised she certainly wasn't shy. He normally would have been, with someone watching, but the action had happened without any intention on his part and once she had started he was not about to make her stop. She seemed to have some experience; it felt far better than the two times that he had been lucky enough to get a blow job but that may simply have been due to the immediacy of the situation. While memory may be golden it is usually the here and now that really counts. Angela paused as Peter settled her on his lap then resumed sucking on Barry. Her mouth moved back and forth, fucking him in a way he had only dreamed of. She seemed to have her own technique of just scraping her teeth over the bulge behind his cock-head each time she reached the end of a stroke, then letting his prick push past her resisting lips as she began to swallow him again. Time after time she took him up then let him drift back down, refusing to take any notice when he tried to get her to continue or tried to push his way back into her oral embrace. She eventually took pity on him and kept the movement going up to, through and past his orgasm. Swallowing as she continued to massage his organ until he could no longer take any more. He took his cock from her mouth and stood there awkwardly exhausted. "Thank you." What else could you say to a stranger who had just drained your balls? She reached for him and, catching his shirt, pulled him closer. His legs trapped between hers and Peter's he stumbled and when she grabbed his cheeks to pull his face to hers he had no choice but to submit to the kiss. That wasn't a problem, she was attractive enough that he would have been glad to spend some time kissing and cuddling and, ... who knows. He met her lips and opened his own in reflex at the touch of her tongue. Angela held his mouth locked against hers as he detected the taste of the spermy coating as it fought against his in his mouth. He had never tasted his semen, the thought had a homosexual taint to it in his mind and he had never really contemplated it before. Now it was happening and he struggled a little at the unusual and not really pleasant taste before realising he had eaten foods he considered tasted worse and put up with the inevitable, concentrating on the more enjoyable aspects of her kiss. He pushed his own way into her mouth, their tongues extended fully like mating snails. (Look it up, consider how poorly equipped we humans are and imagine ...) Maintaining the kiss, he knelt to ease his bent back and Angela moved her hands from his face to his back and pulled him up against her body. In doing so his chest encountered not soft tits but instead the backs of his cousin's hands. Barry had been enjoying the osculation and now opened his eyes to look past the lovely face to Peter's grin. He realised how silly he probably looked and his mouth formed a matching grim while his lips were still pressed against the girl's. Peter had been idle while this was going on. He had sat back and let the girl writhe around on his prick without having to put any effort in himself. He HAD gone to the trouble of removing bra and blouse so she was naked and he had leaned against her back, cupping her deliciously pointy breasts as he watched his cousin's prick sliding in and out of her mouth. As she moved forwards and back he followed and the minor variations in their motions kept him "interested" while permitting him to prolong the experience. He hadn't realised the joy that came from watching, having considered sex a private sport in the past; one he unfortunately had had little opportunity to participate in. "You learn something new every day!" Peter knew that his Father was hoping the people collected would be able to act as instructors to the rest of the group, passing on their specialist knowledge. From the look on Barry's face he thought he would have to arrange a special series of classes so Angela could teach ALL of the women how to suck cock. He could see there would be plenty of volunteers to act as her assistant. Angela stopped moving as Barry came and, although Peter enjoyed her squirming movements as she fought to kiss his cousin, his own urges made him eager for more strenuous activities. He asked Barry to move then stood, holding Angela by the waist so they remained connected as he turned so she could kneel on the sofa. He almost lost his position as she brought her knees up and leaned against the back of the chair but his "little bit extra" allowed him to simply push back deep into the warmth without having to find the adit. With no point of reference Angela found being spun around gave her vertigo and she grabbed the back of the chair when her hands struck it and held on. As the world steadied she could feel the long hard pole push deep inside her. Size may NOT be all that important but when the rod sliding past the entrance to her vagina took over twice the time to pass the sensitive opening than her former boyfriends would have required at the same pace, the frictional sensations could not but help increase her pleasure. Peter drew it back and thrust again and this time it was he who closed his eyes as he appreciated the sensations while his cousin discovered the joys of voyeurism. Barry rubbed his cock as he watched the long dong disappear and grow again, over and over. By the time Peter had begun to pick up the tempo it had grown hard and he was stroking it with increased vigour. Peter now thrust hard, deeper than before and Angela felt the painful pressure on her cervix before it was withdrawn and thrust again and again. Her breasts were squashed against the fabric as she leaned into the chair and Peter's hands gripped her hips tightly as he pulled her back against his loins to finally explode within her. She too was near completion but realised with the near cessation of movement that he was exhausted and, though he tried to persist for her sake the flesh was weaker than the spirit and he was forced to withdraw. The slow and drawn out removal of his prick was it's own exquisite torture and Angela could barely resist the futile desire to force herself back onto the spike again. She began to tun but a hand on her back indicated she was to stay. Had someone else joined them? "Oh, Goody!" Without preliminaries the new man found his place and slowly slid his hard prick into her well lubricated socket. Where Peter had failed a resurrected Barry was going to try anew. Given an opportunity to fuck the girl's tight cunt, Barry wasn't worried about "sloppy seconds". Angela found the hard fucking just what the doctor ordered and this time she was biting the back of the fortunately well-upholstered char as she fought not to scream; there were a roomful of sleeping women and she didn't want to be the one to wake them. Barry kept going, pumping his cock into the spasming girl. He felt her go rigid, he felt her vagina clamp down on him, he felt her resume her reciprocating movements as he fucked on. Angela came down slightly only to be pushed higher. "Oh stop", she thought, "I can't take this. It's too nice." The thoughts remained unspoken as she could, would and wanted to take as much pleasure from the darling boy (it was Barry wasn't it?) as humanly possible. Even if it killed her she felt it would be a fitting way to go. When her body tensed at the next crest, Barry's body was close enough to his own release that he came before Angela's orgasm had subsided. Another wave of semen washed into her but now she could no longer feel the subtle splash off the over-used walls of her vagina. Barry rested, still inside her, and kissed along her spine as he leaned over her white back. An internal squeeze and his cock was pushed from her body leaving a frothy trail to seep out of the gaping hole and down her leg. Head hanging over the back and legs still spread wide she uttered her benediction, "Thanks guys. That was one good fuck, or rather two good fucks." She found Peter next to her and snuggled against him while Barry went to clean up and grab a doona. She left off kissing Peter and gave Barry a long pash as he joined them. Peter made his own way to the bathroom and after a couple of minutes Angela decided she had better go too. Politely rejecting Barry's offer of help ("I've got to learn to find my way around here"), she tip-toed across the cooling wooden floor in her bare feet with one hand on the wall until she found the guide rope and followed it to the bathroom. Barry heard the faint noise of voices and then his cousin came out and returned to his watching duties. Peter found the remains of his beer and swallowed them down as he sat again. "She's really something isn't she?" Peter agreed, "I think life is going to be pretty good." ----- Michael and Rachel called in on the way out and didn't notice the bundled female curled up with her head on Peter's lap. Barry had moved to a single lounge chair so she could spread out; it seemed mean-spirited to suggest she return to her bed. Michael had left them the address where he was headed and promised to be back within 90 minutes, hopefully with some snacks before heading off with his cousin in tow. The watching pair weren't sure if going out alone was such a good idea. Barry turned to Peter. "Maybe one of us should had gone with him." Peter nodded and checked the time. *** August 29 (just) - Michael and Rachel Michael drove Rachel through the dark suburban streets. Inside the car the night was quiet yet, though the streets were empty of traffic, he neither sped nor crawled. People wandered from their houses in desperation, often at the sounds of the very vehicles Michael and his family were driving around. Their homes now tombs rather than refuges, bereft of all hope of rescue, they staggered and stumbled around the streets. If he drove too fast he ran the risk of hitting someone standing, sitting or even lying in the road. If he drove too slowly they had time to react to the noise of the approaching car, gathering by or on the road as they tried to wave him down. He grimaced when he struck one unfortunate person, he couldn't tell whether male of female, old or young, who suddenly ran out and ended up bouncing off the side of the car. Rachel screamed as the door was struck and Michael swerved in mild panic. There was no point stopping, he could only have taken the gun from the glove box and given the unknown person mercy. While that would probably have been better, he wasn't yet able to take that step. He reassured Rachel that they were alright without being too sure if they were. To distract her, and himself, he asked for further details about where her friend Stacey lived and how they had met. Rachel kept him amused with stories of some of the hijinks the two girls had gotten up to, her voice breaking from time to time as she worried that they may be too late. Michael patted his cousin's leg, the touch bringing back the memory of their recent pleasant exploits. He eventually found the street then had to interpret her directions. "It's fifty-something, on the right. There's a pine tree or something next to the driveway and the garage is way back." Michael found it easily and pulled into the driveway. He turned the engine off and they got out as soon as possible to try to avoid giving their location away. He took the pistol with him though he hoped he wouldn't need it. He had briefly been shown how to use, and how not to misuse, it that afternoon firing a single shot into a earthen bank in the park opposite the school. The front door was locked and they couldn't get anyone to answer the door chime that could be heard through the almost still night. Calls from the occupants of various houses down the street went unheeded as Michael led the blind girl around the outside of the house looking for the easiest entry point. A backdoor was also locked and he finally decided to break the glass window that opened onto a patio area. An ornamental rock from the garden went sailing through the pane and Michael used a wooden stake to knock out the rest. He helped Rachel to step through as he called out. "Hello, Stacey. Are you here?" There was no answer. Michael found the light switch and turned it on. Fortunately the power was still working and he could switch his ever-handy flashlight off. "Sit here while I have a look around." He left her seated on a lounge chair. The master bedroom was at the front of the house and Michael almost puked as he opened the door. He closed it and retreated; he would try elsewhere first. The next two rooms were empty and when he got to the bathroom he checked in the cabinet. "Borrowing" some aftershave, he sprinkled it over a washcloth which he held over his nose and mouth while he made a foray into the noxious bedroom. The sight of the two dead bodies on the bed was depressing. They must have been Stacey's parents and from their looks had been dead quite a while. Michael didn't hang around to find out how they died; there was no sign of Stacey and that may or may not be a good thing. "No sign yet", he told Rachel as he passed the family room. There was no point mentioning his grizzly find. He opened another door and the stench was back, not quite as strong. There was a small body in the bed; too small for Stacey from Rachel's description, perhaps a brother or sister. He looked around the room and spotted a pair of feet poking out from beside the bed. It looked like her. Walking around the bed he saw faint signs of movement and he knelt over her. "Stacey? Can you hear me?" He regretted speaking as the breath he took caused him to spin and throw up in the corner. Once again he retreated until his stomach had settled. "I think I've found her and she's alive. Wait there though." Holding his breath he went back into the room, seized the girl's ankles and dragged her out into the hallway. He shut the door quickly before finally drawing breath. It was not much better but still, he was able to function again. "Stacey? Stacey, can you hear me?" The girl's eyelids fluttered and he slapped her cheek. Her eyes opened briefly and she breathed a barely heard "Don't". Rachel had heard her cousin and awkwardly made her way towards his voice. "Is she okay?" "I think she will be. I don't know; she's probably dehydrated and needs something to eat as well. Coffee with lots of sugar might be a good start." Rachel knelt by her friend and tried to get her to respond while Michael searched the kitchen. He found a kettle and filled it then looked for cups, coffee and sugar. The only milk he found was off; milk supplies had not been regular for over two weeks and almost nonexistent in the last one - it would have to be black. He made it strong and sweet and left it to cool for a while. Rachel turned as he sat next to them. "She knows who I am but she's very weak; and the smell!" Michael inspected the girl. "I think she's lain there for a day or two. Once she's had something to drink we'll get her washed down. Do you know which was her room?" "If you start at the front door it's the third door on your left." Michael went into one of the rooms he had checked earlier. It was clearly a teenage girl's room with plenty of posters and piles of CDs. He opened some drawers looking for suitable clothing. While she was weak a sloppy joe nightie should suffice; he put it on the end of the bed figuring they may as well dress her there, it wouldn't be any harder. Michael held Stacey up while Rachel pulled her t-shirt over her head and then down her arms. She sat back while he stripped her jeans off, then further back as he used a towel to wipe off most of the mess. He wished he was not there; it was only the knowledge that the girl was helpless at the moment and needed his help that got him through the unpleasant ordeal. He figured that whatever he had to face, her troubles had to have been a whole lot worse. There were so many he could do nothing for, this just seemed necessary. With luck she would survive. He threw the soiled items in the laundry, mere habit, and closed the door before going to wash himself. He added a little cold water to the coffee and this time Rachel held Stacey against her and encouraged her to sip from the cup Michael held to her lips. She didn't like the strong drink but they gradually forced her to empty about half the cup with another quarter ending up down her front. Up until then Michael hadn't really been interested in the naked body lying against his cousin; the situation prevented any sense of prurience. He had noticed that she was quite nice looking but now that he looked at the coffee-stained bra that was her only clothing he saw that she was certainly interesting in other ways as well. Her figure suggested she had been an active sportswoman and he found himself hoping her personality matched her looks. "Let's get her cleaned up." They decided getting her into and out of the tub would be far more effort than all getting into the shower. Not quite the erotic "shower with a friend" they had experienced earlier! He led Rachel to the Stacey's bedroom to get undressed. As he stripped he didn't take his eyes off his cousin as she divested herself of her own clothes. "Now that's a nice body", he thought and took the time to give her a hug from behind and a kiss on the cheek. It wasn't the time for romance but he wanted her to know he did appreciate her company. Back in the corridor he lifted Stacey forward and fumbled behind her back for the catch of her bra. It wasn't the first time he had carried out the manoeuvre but at least the other person had been able to stand up. With it finally gone he braced himself as he lifted her up. It wasn't as easy as he had thought and he had to get Rachel to help with the rag doll. Finally standing with his arms under her armpits and her tits squashed against his chest he half-walked and half- dragged her to the bathroom. She was a bit more aware and was able to take a stumbling step every now and then though she didn't really comprehend what was going on. Rachel kept talking to Stacey as the water warmed and when they got her under the spray she became more animated, finally recognising her friend Rachel. She didn't however detect Michael's presence and kept asking Rachel to turn on the light. Rachel found it hard not to cry over her friend's plight. They got her back washed and with a little juggling between them turned her around to allow the stream of water to flow down her front. Standing behind her Michael had to support her with her arms across her chest. With no-one to monitor his behaviour he guiltily took the opportunity to cup the girl's soft breasts. He kneaded his fingers into her flesh until she abruptly gave a little whimper which seemed to indicate she was aware of his attentions. He resumed his more protective stance as Rachel finished cleaning her friend. They laid her down on the bathmat and towelled themselves then her. With Rachel's further help he was able to get Stacey to her room and settled her back on the bed. They managed to get another glass of sugar water down her throat before they dressed her. With Stacey sprawled back on the bed and her legs open Michael had an excellent view. He had looked at plenty of magazines and felt he had enough experience yet the opportunity to pay close personal attention to the female genitals had not arisen. On the pretext of getting the semi-conscious girl dressed he spread her legs and then peered closely at the furry patch that was thereby exposed to view. With a delicate touch in the hopes that he wouldn't disturb her he parted the wider lips and looked at the delicate folds enclosed therein. He would have liked to have spent longer in his investigations but with Rachel standing in the room it was not practical. He simply passed his fingers across the folds and got on with his job. With the nightie in place, Michael looked around for something to throw a few other things in. Unsuccessful elsewhere, he forced himself to check out Stacey's parents' room again, the scented mask allowing him enough time to find two large suitcases on top of their wardrobe. He filled one with an assortment of clothing, tossing her CDs and a portable player on top. The other he took to the kitchen, grabbing what food seemed practical. With these in the boot of the car he lifted Stacey off the bed and carried her out to the car. She seemed out of it and his thumb "unfortunately" happened to slip between her thighs as his hand supported her butt. He stroked her for his own illicit pleasure and wondered if any of the sensations were being received in her muddled state. He settled her on the back seat and covered her with a blanket he had brought from the house. He shortly had Rachel seated next to her and with them settled in the back he left the house, and its unanswered mystery, behind. ----- He saw a store up ahead and remembered the request. He looked in the mirror. "How is she?" "Sleeping a bit better I think but she's holding tight to me." "I need to stop for a couple of minutes if she's going to be okay." "I think so." He pulled into the carpark and got out. "I won't be far." Fortunately the door to the store was open and a little buzzer sounded out the back as he entered. It was empty and he had to shine his flashlight around the shop shelves. He thought it might have been raided but apparently the local populace was either honest or incompetent. He quickly gathered up an assortment, filling the passenger side and throwing a few extras in with the suitcases. He closed the shop door in case he wanted to come back, and drove back to the school, just within his allowed time. ----- He had not long looked at his watch again when the gymnasium door opened and Michael walked in. He was ahead of schedule and Peter was relieved he didn't have to wake his father to organise a search and presumably rescue party. "Give us a hand will you?" Barry motioned to Peter not to disturb the sleeping girl and followed Michael out. They returned with a young girl, in her mid-teens by the look; a refugee who seemed to have had a pretty hard time of things in the last few days. She needed assistance to walk and they settled her in the chair Brian had vacated. "Just keep an eye on her for a minute, I've got to get Rachel. There's stuff in the car if one of you wants to get it." He disappeared back out the door and the two young men looked at the girl, at each other and back at the girl. Her nightie had ridden up to show a wisp of hair and Barry reached over and lifted the hem. They admired the sight but satiated from the lusty Angela's attentions, and each a little loath to impose on the sleeping girl with the other man there to pass judgement, they left it at that. Barry dropped the garment back into place. "I'll go I suppose." He headed out, passing Michael with their young cousin. Michael sat her down on the arm of the chair with her friend and let Peter know what had happened. His older brother asked "Suicide pact?" and Michael could only shrug. It wouldn't have surprised any of them. There were really only four options for the millions out there; retreat inside your own world with whatever form of madness you desired, resign yourself to the inevitable and make an end on your own terms, wallow in a desperate hope that your knight on a white charger would turn up just in time, or scream defiance at the world and seek some way of continuing a day at a time for as long as you could. In each case the result was inevitable but death comes to us all and it is only the manner and the time over which we have some limited control. They were the knights but they were too few. Michael found someone to help with Stacey, disturbing the sleep of a few women in the process, and with her sleepy instructions took Rachel and her friend back to his room. The two men left awake in the hall considered the departing trio. Michael had staked his claim. They each had to father children on their blind female cousins. Barry didn't really have much choice as Ellen couldn't pair with any of her three brothers. That didn't mean he had to "move in with her" though. If necessary a few nights every few months could suffice. He discussed it with Peter who found it strange to openly discuss someone screwing his little sister. He could admit she did have a sexy bod though. It was easier working out which of his cousins he would prefer. He tried to stir Barry by proposing his sister Stella first. She was 16, not a bad age, and not bad looking either. If Michael and Rachel got together that would leave the 14 year old David with the 20 year old Karen. They both laughed over the image until Barry reminded Peter that that 14 year old had led his former teacher up to his room that very night. Suddenly 14/20 didn't seem so funny. Peter finally decided that, with the number of women to be allocated, he didn't really mind which cousin, if any, he ended up with. Barry agreed that this was a very practical decision. ----- Michael and Rachel got Stacey into bed between them though Michael would have preferred his cousin's hot body next to his. He realised it had been a long night though and they were too sleepy to get up to any more mischief together. In fact they had barely settled when Michael could hear a faint snoring from the other side of the bed. He hoped that wasn't a bad sign for the future. Still, Rachel was asleep and he could let his fingers do a little more sleepwalking of their own. He slid his hand under the hem of the cotton nightie they had left on Stacey and moved it up to her breast. From what Rachel had said she was just a little older than his cousin, 16 he thought she had said. She certainly had developed well and even with her laying on her back she had sufficient flesh under his exploring hand to fill it nicely. He felt the texture inside her breast and the crinkled skin around her thin, almost boy-like, nipples. Rachel's had been far thicker and Michael suddenly looked forward to exploring the differences amongst his allocation of the women. His hand slid down over her stomach and into the heavy thatch that roofed her pussy. It was a dense mass of curls; "black as night like the hair on her head", he recalled. The feel as he dug his fingers into it reminded him of an Afro hairstyle from old photos of the 60's and 70's. He tried "digging" a bit further along as well and succeeded in parting her lips to get access to the gully between. It was disappointing, she was dry and he couldn't move his finger far. He brought his hand back and coated his fingers with saliva; applied to Stacey's pussy, Michael was now able to go exploring. Stacey may not have been quite aware of what was going on yet but her body certainly did. As Michael manipulated her lips and clit the signs of her arousal became evident. Dipping his finger into her hole Michael no longer needed saliva. There was an abundance, even an over-abundance, of lubricant and Michael plunged his fingers inside her hot box. It was disappointing that there were few other signs that she was enjoying herself. Her hips did move as his fingers entered her; she almost seemed to lift to meet him but the movements were uncoordinated. There was no loving response; no caresses, no kisses, no terms of endearment or encouragement. Michael took his hand back, suddenly grateful for his cousins somnolent state. If she was aware of his actions would she be horrified? Had she not been there though he may have been tempted to place his throbbing prick where his fingers had so recently been. While his touch had revealed the warmth of her cunt, Michael realised that her lack of response would have made it just a bizarre form of masturbation. He didn't like the idea of screwing a drunk chick just because the opportunity might arise at a party; he had made that mistake once and if he was making love to someone he wanted them to appreciate the fact. It wasn't that he felt he was god's gift to women, far from it, but his idea was that sex should be good enough to share not be something that you kept for yourself. He was a little ashamed of his actions and decided to go to sleep before he continued until Rachel found out. With regret that Stacey was still recovering, and also that he had started fooling around with her while she was unaware of things, Michael snuggled against her. He lay his arm across her torso to hold Rachel as he dropped off to sleep. He had barely settled however when he felt a hand come up to gently pat his arm before straightening again. It wasn't Rachel! ***************************************************