The Apocalypse Affect

Author's Note-- For those of you familiar with my other story 'The Neighbourhood', I'm sorry but I'm having major writer's block and I don't really know where to go with the story. I'm not sure when I'll squeeze out another chapter but it will happen..sometime.
This particular idea came to me when I saw an ad on a website that said; 'will you survive the apocalypse?' I just got the below image and decided to draw it out. As I wrote I became influenced by Stephen King's The Stand which I recommend everyone read.
I do hope to continue with this, let me know if you think I should or just leave it as a one-shot.

~~~~~~~~~

She smoked the last part of her rolled cigarette then flicked it. She was hiding under the burned out remains of a Ferrari, watching the fire flares in the sky with a blank stare. A vulture was struck by a flare and fell down, landing six feet away from her. She looked around, then took out a small knife and crawled on all fours to the barely alive bird. It’s feathers were burning and the smell made her want to vomit but she had long been accustomed to sickening smells. It’s eyes rolled in it’s flaked, scarred head. It tried fluttering its wings, croaking at her.

She put her boot on the things head and then sliced it’s throat.
She skinned it, then it cut its flesh into pieces with skilled precision, all the while her face set in that same blank stare.

Just as she was about to bite into one of the pieces she heard the sound of glass cracking. She looked around the car door, stuffing the meat in her mouth.

It was a man carrying a hunting rifle on a sling, wearing thread bare jeans and a girls shirt that said ‘PRINCESS’, most of the rhinestones missing. He walked nonchalantly towards her and she growled low in her throat, signaling her presence.

He looked around, pushing his dark, scraggly bangs from his bearded face.

“That’s my bird,” he said in a hoarse voice that sounded as if it wasn’t used much.

She started to get wet at the sight of him. She hadn’t seen a man in three months.

“I’ll give it to ya if ya get me off,” she said, her own voice sounding equally hoarse.

He came to her, taking his rifle off his shoulder and sitting down next to her. She could see his face better now and there was a big dark fleck in his right eye, marring the brown. He smelled like gasoline and oranges.

He examined the meat, glancing at the skinned bird.
“They’re more skinny over here, guess there ain’t much bodies around,” he said, more to himself than to her. She played with her knotted braid, then reached out her hand.
“Come here,” she said, her heart starting to beat faster.

He grunted and pushed her into the dirty cotton blanket she used as her bed. His body was warm and she gasped as she held him in her arms, the human contact startling but welcome. She buried her face in his neck, breathing his scent in deeply. He let out a deep sigh, one hand moving to her waist while the other was feeling her collarbone, her shoulder, the valley between her breasts. She was heating up fast, an urgency building in her.

“Yes, touch me,” she breathed, almost crying at how good it felt as his hands touched her bare skin. He had pushed her shirt up and was squeezing her hips, playing with the flesh. She kissed his neck gently as she ran her hands up and down his back, feeling the muscles move as he pushed himself up off her. He lay back on the blanket, looking at her with an intensity that almost made her blush. She pulled her shirt over her head and wiggled out of her jeans, wearing only a purple pair of panties. She laid on top of him, straddling his waist, leaning forward to suck on his lips. Their kissing was urgent and sloppy as they adjusted themselves to the feel of another’s lips.

She felt his erection under her and started to rub against it. He bit her lip and fondled one of her small breasts. She pulled his head up to it and he sucked on her nipple with relish. Her hips moved faster, the friction between them making her so wet. She groaned and brought her hand down to rub her clit but he stopped her.

“Let me do it,” he said.

She grinned, spreading her legs. His hand cupped her through her panties and she jumped at his touch.

“Oh Christ!” that area of her body had almost forgotten the touch of another.

His thumb rubbed her, starting slow but increasing in speed at her wanton moans, all the while lavishing her breasts with wet kisses.
She reached under her ass and squeezed his balls. His groan undid her just as he thrust his hips up, his penis hard through his pants. She came hard, grabbing hold of his hair as she spasmed over him. She felt him twitch under her and he grabbed himself as he ejaculated in his jeans.

She slumped over him as her vagina pulsed pleasantly with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her forehead was damp with sweat. He laid his head down and closed his eyes as he enjoyed the moment.

~~~~~~

They ate the vulture in silence. She was extremely pleased with him and was even considering letting him stay so they could fuck.

“What’s your name?” he said suddenly, picking his teeth with a fingernail.

She coughed. “Eve,” she replied after hesitating. She couldn’t recall the last time she had told someone her name.

He looked at her expectantly.

“What?"

“you gonna ask me my name?” he smirked.

She shrugged. “Don’t see why it matters,” she said truthfully. To know someone’s name was to acknowledge the fact that they had existed before the Apocalypse, and that once their parents had carefully chosen that name. Once, when things had order.

“It’s Paul, just so you know.”

“That’s nice,” she said, not knowing what else to say. She had a feeling he was going to ask her more questions and she was starting to feel awkward. She wanted him to be a stranger. She would have to leave him, it was best not to get to know him and vice versa.

“How long you been here?”

“A year, maybe two.”

“Where were you when it happened?”

She huffed. “Just shut up. That don’t matter any more. That’s the past. I can’t think about the past,” she said, closing her eyes. An image of a two year old girl surfaced and she felt the hurt deep inside. She was keeping the tears away but it was hard.

She felt his hand on her back and his mouth on her cheek. She relaxed, leaning her head back. She could forget with his mouth on her. She didn’t have to think when he touched her.

And touch her he did.