"I think I'll be okay, seriously, I'm not just saying that," I assured, having long since gone from flattered to annoyed.
"How? You'll need a few stitches at the very least, it won't be too hard to find a first aid kit I bet I wouldn't even be gone a day!" Press pleaded, standing up but not leaving.
The evening and night's rest had been great. I think they were convinced I was going to die at some point in the night, the way they were thanking and doting on me, even that poor bastard's wife found a couple kind words to say. Then I woke up the next morning, they checked under the makeshift bandages, and it looked… well it looked a little worse but I felt better!
They'd cleaned the cuts with fire last night, before bandaging, causing the scabs to look more like charred meat, than a healing wound. Honestly, I mostly wanted to see if that little ritual had accomplished anything. If Granny really did impart some serious power upon me.
I'd certainly weathered a strike from the creature better than another random dude, but maybe that was just luck? In any case, the real argument I shared with Press now.
"If I was going to die unexpectedly it's safe to say I would have done it by now. As long as I'm getting better not worse, you stay here and keep things on track. Keep these people safe," I insisted. "Even if I do take a turn for the worse, you'll have at least a couple days to find a stimpack, you told me they're still fairly common!"
That was the argument that did it.
Especially the talk about protecting the others. Her eyes took a sad air. She looked at me with them for a good while, then sighed, kissed me on the mouth, and walked out.
Somehow that little peck felt so much more nefarious than the frenzied romp we'd had not two days ago. Having time to lie there and stew in my actions didn't help either. Partly out of selfishness, part of necessity, I pushed those thoughts out.
I'd saved four people's lives, I was a good person. Well, actually three people's lives now. That was the other thing, who I or anyone porked felt pretty damn unimportant right now, with all the other shit going on. Littles kisses and cuddles weren't porking though, it was different, maybe worse.
I didn't care and wouldn't ask what Julia had done in my absence, on the off chance I ever saw her again, but the idea of her being that intimate with someone else was…upsetting.
My time in bed was spent trying to silence these thoughts. It wasn't easy, but sleep still found me quickly. It did feel like I'd been hit by a truck after all. The night was restful, perfect. When I woke up it was dark, it was also warm and cozy. Far more so than this crappy shack had any right to be.
Press was lying beside me.
Her wonderful round breasts were brushing right against my arm. Nothing between our skin but a ratty green tanktop. Even worse, she was awake and gently brushing my abdomen. My shirt was up I realized. I also realized, that she realized, that I'd woken up.
"How?" was all she asked, eyes down on my wound.
It looked like it'd been healing a week or more. They were still pretty nasty, but they were already beginning to close, visibly smaller than they were this morning. I noted this before putting my head back, staring at the ceiling.
"Magic," I replied, honestly but sarcastically. She didn't push me further, instead snuggling closer and twisting the knife in my gut. Did I have to bring up the fact I was married? I was wearing my ring since we met. Did she just assume I was a widow because of the vault thing? God did I really have to have that awkward ass conversation now? While bedridden from trying to fight a mutant monster in defense of the people in this building?
Fuck it.
I grabbed her mouth and pulled it to mine. She 'eeped' at the action but didn't pull away. With quick efficiency, her right leg flipped over to straddle me. She was still braced on her arms, she hadn't laid down on top of me yet. I used my own arms to fix that. Oned pulling her wonderful mammories into my exposed chest, the other launching a coordinated strike right on that tight little ass!
I was so fucking hard.
I was so fucking pumped.
Who knows what the upper limit of this power was? Was I faster? Stronger? Hell, maybe even smarter? If this was 10 what would a hundred be? Could I find 90 men who deserved to die?
I reflected on the past 48 hours in this world.
Yeah, probably.
Press was still hesitating on top of me, pulling back just a bit as I squeezed her. I growled into her lips as she pulled away. Stole one more kiss from those succulent lips, and made my demands.
"Get out of those pants, I need to fuck you, now!" I demanded. She made a displeased noise, like a damn angry teacher, but she obeyed. Seeing her little cooch come out made my erect cock throb. I yanked her down to it, slapping myself against that wonderful entrance. Her eyes were wide, though it looked like excitement outweighed the worry now.
"Ready?" I asked, taunted.
When she sucked in a breath and gave a short nod, I stuffed it in. Putting myself inside her in one quick thrust! She groaned and tried to match my motions as I slammed into her again and again and again. One hand gripped her in place and kept her on track, the other tickled at her entrance, where the cock didn't reach. She was so wonderfully soft, so wet and smooth and perfect. My cock was right where it was supposed to be, all was right in the world!
Meanwhile, our mouths were once again locked together, I almost forgot they were even apart.
That succulent skin, smoother than it had any right to be. Those strong hands and those sharp nails digging into my hair and arm respectively! Not to mention the noises, those deep groans of pleasure and relief. The breathless laugh that slipped out whenever we briefly came apart.
Her thighs began squeezing me on either side.
Those were strong too.
Our kiss was probably the only thing that kept us quiet as we both came. One last heavy groan, drowing out the increasingly frenzied squeaks she made against my mouth, and my cock exploded into her.
I stayed there in her cooch, even as she tried to pull off, yanked her back against my hips. Even wiggling my legs under hers so that I could grip her with those too. She got the message and relaxed her body on top of me. I fell asleep in seconds.
In the morning I would leave.
I'd hoped to tell her so before she left my side, but apparently, I slept like a rock. She was gone when I opened my eyes. Finding her outside wasn't hard, finding a moment of privacy wasn't either. Hell, maybe it was better this way.
She certainly took the news better than I expected.
"You're leaving?" she asked, sounding more annoyed than anything else.
"I'm sorry, if there's any chance my wife and daughter are alive, I got to try and find them," I explained honestly, my own voice fairly devoid of emotion, just as it had been delivering the news. This wasn't easy for me. I didn't want to go.
We had a proper perimeter, a makeshift bunker we'd made out of the newly opened sewers, a fucking watchtower, and more food coming in than we were eating. Something told me that was about as good as it got in this world, and we'd only been at it a few days! We could really build something here, I knew it. Not just an outpost, a town, maybe even a city someday!
And molerat didn't even taste that bad!
Still, the longer I stayed the harder it would be to go. I knew I'd drive myself crazy if I didn't try. If I didn't walk more than five miles in search of my missing family.
"Alright," she relented. "You want our kid to have your last name?" she asked casually, far too fucking casually. I thought it was a trap at first but she seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction.
"You're pregnant? And you know that after only two days huh?" I retorted, just a hint of hesitation, just a smidge of worry that maybe there was some weird-ass mutation I'd not yet learned of.
"I mean, maybe, you came inside me twice. It's more of a…just in case, question, you know?" she explained slowly, like she was trying to deescalate an unreasonable asshole.
I blinked.
"Right, sorry, just nervous," I pondered her question for about three seconds. "Sure, I guess, if you have a kid they can call themselves Brocco, if you really want,"
"I would," she assured, patting me affectionately, playfully even, on the cheek. "You've done a lot for me, for all of us, I'd be proud to have your kid," she assured with a friendly smile. A friendly smile, not a loving one. It was weird. This whole fucking wasteland was weird.
Even so, I kissed her one more time, quickly, but firmly.
"I'll try to be back,"
Thanks for reading, and if you want some non-smut apocalyptic fiction by me, check Macko Bole on the kindle store!
