They slept late the next day, and by the time Graverobber woke, it was already past noon. He sat up to see Shilo laying on her tummy, head propped up in her hands, watching TV. She'd actually gotten that antique to work.
Feeling him stir, Shilo turned to look at him and said, "Good morning." To his relief, that was all - she didn't pounce on him and try to kiss him, or burst into tears, or strip her clothes off and offer herself to him like a trembling virgin sacrifice. Graverobber had a spark of hope that maybe nothing had changed after all, that they'd shared last night and now she'd walk out of his life and not look back.
She followed him down to the lobby, still wearing his shirt and her own filthy skirt. Not that he looked much better. There was still a lukewarm pot of coffee and some donuts in the lobby, and Shilo sat down to eat while Graverobber tried to check out. Emphasis on 'tried'. As it turned out, checkout time was 11 a.m., and the manager of this dump had automatically booked him for another night. Graverobber glanced over at Shilo, who was enthusiastically devouring a donut. He could just walk out, but hey, the room was still theirs for another night, and it seemed like a shame to waste it. Two showers in a row never hurt anyone.
"Banana?" Shilo was standing at his elbow, fruit in hand.
Graverobber grinned. "No, thanks. I'm trying to quit." He handed her the key.
Shilo frowned. "What's this?"
"We're staying for another night, and I don't have a spare pocket. Hold it for me." The truth was he planned to walk out tonight while she was showering, and leave her there. Let her get some sleep. It seemed like a good plan.
They left the hotel and went to a hole-in-the-wall place down the street that carried a little bit of everything. Shilo wandered around staring at butterflies pinned behind glass and posters from old movies. She'd had bent down to examine a kid's rocking horse when Graverobber walked up behind her and casually drapped a shirt over her head. "Hey!" Shilo plucked it off her head, shot him a wry look, and said, "A shirt? You bought me a shirt?"
He placed a skirt and some socks into her arms. "I need my shirt back. And I didn't know your shoe size."
She went into the bathroom to change, and Graverobber considered abandoning her right there. It'd be kinder in the long run. The more time she spent with him, the more she depended on him, following him around like a puppy. He needed to get back to business. He'd just stood up when Shilo appeared and twirled around, showing off her new clothes. She held up his shirt and suggested, "We could go wash it at the motel."
That made sense, and he couldn't think of any excuses, so off they went back to the motel. Shilo sat on a washer and giggled as the machine rocked back and forth. "Ride 'em, cowboy," chuckled Graverobber as the girl struggled to stay on. He backed up to her and let Shilo wrap her arms around his shoulders and lifted her off the machine, spinning her around a couple of times while she shrieked with something between fear and joy. Shilo slipped off him and pressed against him, still laughing.
"Six," she gasped.
"What?"
"Six. My shoe size is six."
The dryer buzzed.
They collected their pitifully small load of laundry and strolled back to their room. Shilo fumbled with the key, and Graverobber crowded her, purposefully making it harder for her to open the door. She was swatting at him with a sock when they finally tumbled into the room. He dumped their laundry in a chair and looked around to see Shilo playing with the cameo around her neck, absently resting her palm on her breast. The tension was back. It was as though they'd left one reality outside and stepped through the door to another. Shilo was so close to him. When did she get so close? Had she always stood so close?
She pressed her forehead to his chest, breathing deeply, as though inhaling his scent. He touched her face, intending to push her away but instead he kissed her lips, her soft lips, and when he broke away he heard her sigh. He backed her up until the backs of her knees touched the bed, and then Shilo sat down, then stretched out underneath him. Her hands ran through his hair, touching each ear, his neck. He thrust against her very lightly, and her legs wrapped around him, urging him on. "Oh, please," she whispered. "Please." As he reached to pull off her panties. She kicked off her shoes herself.
Graverobber sat up to pull off his shirt, and almost laughed out loud when Shilo took the opportunity to unbuckle his pants for him. "Take it easy, kid," he told her, shrugging out of his clothes. Her eyes explored him, from his shoulders to his chest, to the junction of his thighs. She was so enthusiastic. Graverobber had fucked a few virgins in his time, whimpering knock-knee'd creatures. Shilo shook when he touched her, but her hands covered his and directed him to her breasts, her lips, her wetness. Graverobber slipped a pair of fingers inside, making her yelp like last night. Damn. He wanted in her so badly.
He pulled back, hearing Shilo whine in protest. She sat up on her elbows. "Wow," she said, seeing him erect. "It's... big."
Graverobber laughed. "You're adorable, kid. Adorable." He let his cock rub against her, as though asking for permission. Shilo wiggled a little bit, and the head slipped inside. So warm. So tight. He saw stars and had to struggle to keep from thrusting in with all his might. He gripped her hips so hard she'd have bruises tomorrow, and pushed in a little further. Shilo hissed, unused to being penetrated. It occured to him that it might be easier on her just to thrust in hard once, instead of easing in centimeter by centimeter. He kissed her neck, distracting her from the pain, sucking a little on each earlobe, and when he felt her relax he tried a short, hard pump. Shilo gave a shaky cry and wrapped her legs around him again, pushing him in deeper. She felt so good, like a dream, gripping him from the inside. Graverobber thrust a couple more times, harder each time, and Shilo writhed with pleasure. She seemed to love all of it. He tried to slow down but couldn't get control of himself.
Now Graverobber was ramming into her with all his might, enraptured by the liquid heat shooting through his veins, the tortured/pleasured look on Shilo's face. The bed squeaked madly. Her nails dug into his back, leaving red marks that he couldn't feel. She bit her lip. "Hey, it's okay," he told her. He struggled for more breath. "Talk to me. Talk to me." The wet sounds of their bodies meeting, the bedsprings, it was the most beautiful music he'd ever heard. Now all he needed was to make Shilo sing.
Her back arched and she flailed around until her hands gripped the headboard of the bed and clung to it. Her moans grew loader, into screams. He felt his own climax coming, and desperately tried to hold on. He was pistoning into her, almost lifting her off the bed, she'd be sore and covered in bruises tomorrow, and he'd be scratched to hell, and she spasmed around him and tears leaked out of her eyes. Shilo wailed. Her muscles gripping him undid Graverobber, and he released into her, collapsing onto her. Graverobber shook. He sucked in air, weak as a kitten. He knew he had to be crushing Shilo but he couldn't lift himself up, much less roll off her. She was so still that for a moment he thought she might be unconscious, but then a hand stroked his hair.
