The Apocalypse Affect
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,352
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,352
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Moving On
A harsh shaft of sunlight covered half of her face and there was drool on the blanket. She had fallen asleep in post-coital bliss, stupidly leaving all of the precious belongings she had scrounged open to thievery.
But she felt the warmth of his male body beside hers and she recognized his scent, breathing out a sigh of relief. She would have been fucked if he had taken her stuff. Dead, most certainly.
She pulled her panties up and wriggled into the black sweatpants she had worn before the destruction of her reality.
She bent down to go over her inventory of items, uncomfortably aware of her sore ass. The man, Paul, had fucked her hard last night and at the time she had forgotten the inch thick blanket was the only thing separating her from the ground.
A box of Kotex tampons, check.
A pocketknife, a skinning knife, and metal scissors. Check.
Her bright yellow poncho and baseball hat, two bras, and two pairs of shirts, check.
A beat up bike with no brakes, check.
Two cigarettes and a lighter, check.
A roll of toilet paper. Yes, thank God, check.
Her Motorola cell phone, which was completely useless now that all the power lines were down. Checkitty check.
A pink stuffed elephant, missing its eyes, its limbs barely attached to its body. It had been her daughters’. She brought it up to her nose and breathed deep. Yes, it still smelled like her. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to feel the sorrow inside of her before she became numb. It was the only way to live.
She put all of her belongings into her backpack, save for the bike and the two knives she had. She put the pocketknife in the pocket she had sewn on the sweatpants and tied the skinning knife to the handlebars of the bike, covering it with cloth.
She looked back at the man sleeping in the Ferrari and considered if she should wake him up to tell him she was leaving. He had certainly been a good fuck. What if he wanted to come with her? Her stomach turned at the thoughts of traveling with someone else. She could get attached. She may have to rob him. Or kill him. But even with all the logical reasons why she should leave him behind in her mind, she remembered the feeling of being embraced by someone else, being touched softly, tenderly, as if she were loved.
She didn’t want to admit it but she knew that was the reason she woke him up against her better judgment.
He was a light sleeper. He awoke immediately when her head accidentally hit the door of the car as she bent down. Either that, or the sound of her cursing in pain.
He looked at her, then yawned loudly.
“No breakfast in bed?”
She chewed on her lip nervously, feeling the bump on her head. “No. ‘Less you want vulture.”
He shrugged and stretched his arms before pulling on his Princess shirt and getting dressed. He glanced at her bike leaning to the side even with the kickstand, and made a point to observe her backpack.
“You leaving?” He said, scratching his stubble with his eyes squinted in the morning sun. “Damn. I’ll just go on with you then if you don’t mind, dear,” he said, picking up his rifle and slinging it across his shoulders. She turned and got on her bike.
“I ain’t gonna ride slow so you better keep up, understand?” She said.
He just grinned at her.
~~~~~~
They followed the two lane highway, passing ten feet high corn stalk fields, the rotten carcasses of cows by the skeletal remains of a farm, and stalled cars, most of which had already been pilfered through.
A sign with a swastika spray painted on it said the speed limit was forty-five. She was going ten, Paul was keeping up at eight miles with his run. She took mercy on him and let him take breaks. If she was in the mood she would have asked for a sexual favour in return, but she wasn’t.
They stopped at another stalled car and rummaged through. So far they had found nothing of value in the other cars, but this time they got lucky. It was Paul who found the bottle of aspirin and the pair of flip flops under the seat.
“Why would they leave this shit here?” He said, handing her the flip flops and pocketing the aspirin.
She shook her head. It was strange. Aspirin was no doubt valuable, and it was right on top of the passengers seat in plain sight.
“Don’t know…”
She dropped her skinning knife and bent down to pick it up. That was when she noticised the blood.
But she felt the warmth of his male body beside hers and she recognized his scent, breathing out a sigh of relief. She would have been fucked if he had taken her stuff. Dead, most certainly.
She pulled her panties up and wriggled into the black sweatpants she had worn before the destruction of her reality.
She bent down to go over her inventory of items, uncomfortably aware of her sore ass. The man, Paul, had fucked her hard last night and at the time she had forgotten the inch thick blanket was the only thing separating her from the ground.
A box of Kotex tampons, check.
A pocketknife, a skinning knife, and metal scissors. Check.
Her bright yellow poncho and baseball hat, two bras, and two pairs of shirts, check.
A beat up bike with no brakes, check.
Two cigarettes and a lighter, check.
A roll of toilet paper. Yes, thank God, check.
Her Motorola cell phone, which was completely useless now that all the power lines were down. Checkitty check.
A pink stuffed elephant, missing its eyes, its limbs barely attached to its body. It had been her daughters’. She brought it up to her nose and breathed deep. Yes, it still smelled like her. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to feel the sorrow inside of her before she became numb. It was the only way to live.
She put all of her belongings into her backpack, save for the bike and the two knives she had. She put the pocketknife in the pocket she had sewn on the sweatpants and tied the skinning knife to the handlebars of the bike, covering it with cloth.
She looked back at the man sleeping in the Ferrari and considered if she should wake him up to tell him she was leaving. He had certainly been a good fuck. What if he wanted to come with her? Her stomach turned at the thoughts of traveling with someone else. She could get attached. She may have to rob him. Or kill him. But even with all the logical reasons why she should leave him behind in her mind, she remembered the feeling of being embraced by someone else, being touched softly, tenderly, as if she were loved.
She didn’t want to admit it but she knew that was the reason she woke him up against her better judgment.
He was a light sleeper. He awoke immediately when her head accidentally hit the door of the car as she bent down. Either that, or the sound of her cursing in pain.
He looked at her, then yawned loudly.
“No breakfast in bed?”
She chewed on her lip nervously, feeling the bump on her head. “No. ‘Less you want vulture.”
He shrugged and stretched his arms before pulling on his Princess shirt and getting dressed. He glanced at her bike leaning to the side even with the kickstand, and made a point to observe her backpack.
“You leaving?” He said, scratching his stubble with his eyes squinted in the morning sun. “Damn. I’ll just go on with you then if you don’t mind, dear,” he said, picking up his rifle and slinging it across his shoulders. She turned and got on her bike.
“I ain’t gonna ride slow so you better keep up, understand?” She said.
He just grinned at her.
~~~~~~
They followed the two lane highway, passing ten feet high corn stalk fields, the rotten carcasses of cows by the skeletal remains of a farm, and stalled cars, most of which had already been pilfered through.
A sign with a swastika spray painted on it said the speed limit was forty-five. She was going ten, Paul was keeping up at eight miles with his run. She took mercy on him and let him take breaks. If she was in the mood she would have asked for a sexual favour in return, but she wasn’t.
They stopped at another stalled car and rummaged through. So far they had found nothing of value in the other cars, but this time they got lucky. It was Paul who found the bottle of aspirin and the pair of flip flops under the seat.
“Why would they leave this shit here?” He said, handing her the flip flops and pocketing the aspirin.
She shook her head. It was strange. Aspirin was no doubt valuable, and it was right on top of the passengers seat in plain sight.
“Don’t know…”
She dropped her skinning knife and bent down to pick it up. That was when she noticised the blood.