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
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* 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!!!! *
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Comments appreciated :
see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html
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*** 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!
***************************************************