The day after: An apocalyptic morning (79 page)

              "Shouldn't you wait until Christine gets hers?" he asked, continuing to finger her. "You had some last night, she's been without for eight days. Didn't we agree that I would spread myself around?"

              "Just give me a couple of strokes," she pleaded. "Please? I'm so horny right now!"

              "Just a couple," he said, grabbing his cock in his hand. "But Christine gets me first. Fair is fair."

              "Fine, just do it," she said, reaching behind her and grabbing at his leg.

              He pulled his fingers free and placed his cock against her wet lips, sliding the head up and down her slit a few times, teasing her. Finally, his own urges got the better of him and he buried himself in her, holding onto her hips for leverage.

              "Oh God, yesss," she cried as she felt the delicious intrusion.

              Despite his declaration that he would only give her a few strokes, he was still pounding away in Paula's pussy when Christine came back into the room. She watched them for a moment, feeling the now familiar combination of arousal mixed with a tinge of jealousy she felt whenever she saw them going at it. The fact that they were doing it in her favorite position intensified her response. She had an almost overwhelming desire to put her hands in her pants and start rubbing herself but she suppressed it. She intended to have more than her fingers touching her there on this night. But first she needed to pry them apart.

              She walked over to them and put her hands on Skip's bare back, sliding her fingers up and down. "I'm starting to feel left out," she said, leaning in and kissing his ear.

              "There's more than enough for two," he replied, his voice not quite steady as he felt her touch upon him. Despite the relative innocence of Christine's caress, it was the first time in his life that a woman had touched him while he was making love to another woman. It sent chills up his spine.

              "Yes," Paula said, just as breathless, "there's no need to go without. We're all married here aren't we? Take those pants off, Christine. Join the fun. We share, remember?"

              Now it was Christine who felt a shiver running through her. What Paula was suggesting sounded so incredibly dirty, so forbidden, yet, at the same time, the very thought was blackly exciting. True, she had seen Paula and Skip making love many times now and true she had been seen by Paula while she was making love many times, but to do it at the same time? In the community bathing room? She couldn't do anything like that... could she?

              "Come on, Chris," Skip whispered, taking one hand off of Paula's waist and putting it around her shoulders. He pulled her against him. "Take 'em off. I've missed your body. Don't make me wait any more for it."

              She trembled a little in desire, feeling her wetness seeping out of her, feeling her nipples harden. She ran her hand down Skip's back to his gyrating ass. She felt his cheeks clenching and releasing as he pushed and pulled in and out. "That's nasty," she said, very little conviction in her voice.

              "Yes," Paula agreed, panting now. "It is. But sometimes married people are nasty with each other. That's what makes it exciting. Be nasty with us, Christine. I can see that you want to."

              "And I can feel it," Skip said, letting his hand slide over her chest to the swell of her breast. He began to caress her nipple through her shirt, twisting it with just the right amount of pressure. Tingles of pleasure began to spread along her nerve pathways.

              A second later she was kicking her shoes off and unbuckling her pants. They fell to the floor the moment they were undone, the holstered pistol thunking on the floor. She stepped out of them and pushed her wet panties down, flinging them off with her foot, hardly noticing that they landed in the filling bathtub.

              "That's the way, baby," Paula said, taking her by the hand and pulling her over next to her. "Bend over and let him give it to you. Fuck him with me."

              Feeling like the most sordid slut in the world, feeling incredibly depraved, feeling nasty, Christine leaned over the tub next to Paula, sticking her ass up into the air. She felt the cold air on her wet pussy and shuddered a little. Paula's arm came up around her back and pulled her closer against her, so their shoulders were touching. She leaned into her co-wife, enjoying the feel of her body despite the fact that she was another female.

              She felt Skip's hands touching her butt, sliding over the cheeks, playing with her legs, spreading her a little wider. God how she loved to be taken this way. It gave her such a comforting feeling of being possessed by her man. The head of his cock touched her center for the briefest of instances before he slid it all the way inside of her in one fluid stroke. It went in easily, despite her tightness, and she could feel that it was already hot and wet. Those were Paula's juices that were helping lube her, she realized with a start. His cock had been dripping with her musky secretions and he had just buried it in her body. This should have made her feel ill, should have disgusted her. It didn't. Instead, she moaned loudly, gripping her co-wife a little harder.

              "You love it when he fucks you like this, don't you?" Paula whispered in her ear, her voice soft and sexy, her breath hot upon her skin.

              "Yesss," she groaned, barely audibly.

              "And I love watching him fuck you," she said next, her hand rubbing her back through her shirt. "It turns me on so much to see him pounding you, to hear you moaning, to see him coming in your body. Isn't that nasty, Christine?"

              "Yesss," she panted, thrusting her butt back at Skip now as she felt him powering in and out of her, filling her. "It's very nasty."

              "Does it turn you on to watch him fuck me?"

              "Ohhh," she grunted.

              "Does it? Tell me, baby. Tell me how you feel."

              "Yess," she cried, giving in to her depravity. "Yes, I love to watch it."

              "Because it's nasty, isn't it? Deliciously nasty and secret?"

              "Ohhh, yesss!"

              Skip, standing behind the two women and feeling his cock going in and out, was feeling pretty nasty himself. He could not believe what was happening, could not believe that he was fucking Christine seconds after pulling his dripping cock out of Paula, could not believe that both of them were holding onto each other, leaning over the tub and giving themselves to him. Two pussies, one covered in blonde hair, one covered in black, were gaping at him. Two firm asses, one light completed, one dark, were being presented side by side for his pleasure. He had never been so turned on in his life as he was at that moment and he was struggling mightily just to keep his orgasm at bay for a few more minutes. Listening to the lewd words that they were saying to each other made this struggle even harder.

              "Do you play with your pussy after you watch us?" Paula asked next, her lips now touching Christine's ear. "You do, don't you?"

              "Yes," Christine said, feeling more chills, more shameful arousal as she felt the feminine lips grazing her skin, "you know I do."

              Suddenly Paula's tongue was licking at her neck, kissing and sucking the flesh there. She knew that she should stop her from doing that, that she was flirting with lesbianism, but she couldn't. It felt too damn good.

              "Oh Goddd," Skip groaned almost painfully as he saw this. His control slipped considerably as he watched Paula's pink tongue lapping at Christine's neck, leaving glistening trails of saliva, as he saw Christine leaning into it, her body language demanding more.

              "Don't you come yet," Paula said, breaking her lips free long enough to look at him. "Don't come until Christine has." She looked back at her. "Are you close, baby?"

              "Yess," Christine, thrusting back spastically, grunted. "Oh yesss!"

              "Let me help you," Paula told her, kissing on her neck again. She twisted a little towards her companion, tucking her right hand under her body. She touched Christine's lower stomach, moving her fingers down until she was moving through the kinky curls of her pubic hair.

              "Shellie," Christine said uncertainly as the touch of another woman neared her most private place.

              "It's okay, baby," she said. "This is just between the three of us."

              And suddenly those fingers were on her swollen clit, rubbing it in short, firm circles. "Ohhhh," she barked, jumping as orgasm reared up from nowhere and hit her like a ton of bricks. "Ohhhhh, I'm, I'm, ohhhhhhh!"

              "Yes, baby," Paula cried, biting her neck now, her fingers still rubbing her clit around Skip's driving cock. "Do it! Come for us! Come for us!"

              She came for them, as hard as she ever had in her life, even harder than the first time Skip used his mouth upon her. Her pussy clenched like a vise on Skip's member and suddenly she was kissing Paula on the mouth, her tongue plunging between those soft lips and dueling with the tongue it found there. Paula, with a squeal of delight, kissed her back enthusiastically, sucking on her lips, running her tongue over her teeth.

              This was all quite enough to push Skip over the edge. The moment their lips came together and he saw their tongues touching, he exploded, nearly going into seizure with the sheer power of his orgasm. His cock began to shoot blast after blast of hot sperm into Christine's body. It seemed he emptied pints, gallons into her before the spasms faded away.

              And even after he finished, even after his cock wilted down to a dripping, semi-hardness, the two women continued to kiss each other, their mouths making wet, slurping noises as their tongues entwined. When he pulled free of them they twisted into each other's arms until they were standing chest to chest, legs to legs, face to face. Christine's hands roamed up and down Paula's bare back, her fingers touching the feminine skin delicately. Paula's hands dropped to Christine's ass, where her fingers attacked the cheeks.

              Skip watched in amazement, his dick already beginning to twitch and resume its hardened state. His hand dropped down to it and began to stroke absently.

              Christine finally pulled away, her lips swollen, her face flushed. Paula let her go after giving one final, lingering kiss.

              "I've... I've never done anything like that before," Christine said, her voice cracked.

              "Nor have I," Paula said. She was just as flushed. "I mean, when I was in junior high school a girlfriend and I felt each others boobs once, and she even sucked mine a little before we got embarrassed and stopped, but I've never... you know... touched another woman like that, or kissed one." She took Christine's hand in hers. "I kind of liked it though. It was... different. Exciting. You're very soft, Christine, very touchable and kissable."

              "Are we..." she hesitated. "Are we... lesbians?"

              Paula laughed a little. "No, baby," she told her. "We're not lesbians. We were just playing a little. There's nothing wrong with that in the kind of marriage that we're in. I'm just surprised it took us this long to do it."

              "But... well... how do we know? I mean, maybe we've always been lesbians and we just now are..."

              " Christine," Paula said, giving her hand a squeeze. "Did you like it when Skip was fucking you just now?"

              "What?"

              "When he was fucking you," she repeated. "When he was sticking his dick in your pussy? Did you like it?"

              "Well... of course I liked it. I loved it."

              "Then you're not a lesbian," she said. "And neither am I. You're just a sexual creature that responded to an impulsive urge. That's all that I am. We're living together in the same household, sharing a man, seeing each other naked all the time, and being part of a marriage. If we get the urge to touch each other or kiss each other once in a while during the height of sexuality, it doesn't need to have any dark meanings. You just go with it."

              "Go with it," she whispered, confused, feeling both shame and desire. There was no denying that she had liked it when Paula had put her hands upon her. And there was no denying that she had been the one to kiss her first. Was it just a wicked impulse as Paula had suggested? Or was it something more?

              "I love you, Christine," Paula said tenderly, leaning forward and giving her a gentle peck on the nose. "I love you as a friend and as a co-wife. You're my ally in this relationship. It's only natural that we'll feel the urge to express ourselves physically sometimes. Let's not get all hung up in pre-comet morality again, okay? If you don't like touching and kissing me, we won't do it. But if you enjoyed it and desire it again in the future, don't let the old prejudices and social norms keep you from doing what you want to do. Remember, it's a different world."

              "A different world," Christine repeated, her mind and body both on overload.

              Paula, leaving Christine to sort it all out, turned to Skip, her eyes dropping down to his dripping cock, which was now nearly fully erect again. "In the meantime," she said, "I've worked myself up into quite a frenzy." She stepped up to him, letting her hand drop to his member. "I think the tub is about full now, isn't it?"

              "I... uh... believe it is."

              "Then why don't we get in?" she asked. "We have a final rinse to take care of don't we?" She gave him a soft, sensuous squeeze, smearing Christine's secretions. "And I know just where I want to sit too."

              They shut off the hot water supply and climbed into the steaming bath. They did not bother with scrubbing or rinsing. Skip sat with his back against the far edge, submerged to his nipples, and Paula sat on his lap, facing him. They kissed hotly, their tongues playing hide and seek in each others mouths while their hands touched hot, soapy skin. Paula grabbed his cock and slid her hips forward, placing the head against her swollen lips. With a quick, forceful push of her body, she drew him into her, sinking to the hilt.

              "Ahhh," Skip moaned as he felt himself encased in yet another hot sheath.

              "I want it hard, baby," she told him. "Fuck me hard."

              He put his hands to her ass and began to power his hips up and down, driving like a piston within her. She grunted and moaned out her approval as water splashed over the side and onto the floor.

              Christine watched this from the edge of the tub, still standing in the same spot she had been when she'd kissed Paula, still naked from the waist down. She watched them intently, her tongue reaching out to lick her lips every now and then, her pussy already starting to juice up again. Soon, though her mind was still full of confusion and wildly conflicting emotions, her right hand dropped between her legs and found her saturated slit. She began to rub herself.

              Her left hand, with nothing else to do at the moment, reached into the tub and found Paula's shoulder. She began to caress the soft skin, sliding her fingertips back and forth, up and down. It really was a pleasant sensation to touch the softness of a woman. A woman felt so much different than a man; not better, not worse, just different.

              "Mmmm," Paula said, putting one of her hands atop Christine's. "That feels nice."

              Soon Christine's hand worked its way down between the chests of the lovers and was cupping Paula's breast.

              Christine came first, her knees wobbling, her juices soaking her fingers. Paula followed right after. Skip, since he had already come once, managed to hang in there for another five minutes, long enough to give Paula yet another peak before he too finally succumbed and filled her with his sperm.

              While Christine put her pants back on, Paula and Skip finished the job of rinsing themselves off. They then drained the tub and climbed out, drying off and putting on the fresh clothes that Christine had fetched for them earlier. Once dressed they did a final clean up of the bathing area. They talked little during this process, all of them lost in their own thoughts. Finally, arm in arm, they left the building, headed for their marital home.

              None of them had seen Jessica, who had just finished her final kitchen duties of the night and who had been watching them for more than twenty minutes from the edge of the doorway. She had slipped away just before they exited.

              Nor did any of them see or sense her staring after them as they moved down the street and disappeared into the darkness. Had they seen her they would have noticed that her hands were clenched into fists and her face was twisted into an expression of hate.

              While they returned to their house, Jessica returned to hers. She locked her door behind her after she entered and then she went to her bedroom, lighting a few lamps and candles along her way. She took off her clothing and then sat naked upon her bed, her mind seething at the depravity that she had just witnessed.

              She could not believe how low her town had sunk in the past two weeks. Not only had her people rejected her as their leader they were now allowing blatant perversions to take place right under their noses. First that pregnant hussy molested the young boy in the bathtub and then, not an hour later, the same tub was used to facilitate the disgusting sexuality of Skip and Paula and that child! At the same time! Several of the townspeople had known that they had gone in there; they had seen them. And had they been outraged at it? Had they demanded it stop? No, they had simply made a few comments under their breaths, elbowed each other a few times, winked, and allowed it to go on. What had this town come to?

              Skip was the man that was corrupting everyone, he was the one that had somehow, someway, managed to turn everyone against her, to twist the role of leadership right out of her grasp just as she was on the verge of securing it for all time. He was the one that was promoting deviant sexual behavior of all kinds on the basis that it just didn't Micker anymore. And the town women, once her staunchest supporters (or so she thought) were now following him, were now sinking down to the same level of depravity as him.

              Despite the fact that she had not talked to anyone in the last three weeks, her ears were as sharp as ever and they missed little. Already she had heard discussions from others about the possibilities that polygamy represented. Though no one besides Skip had yet made such a drastic step into the land of damnation, it seemed that more than one set of quiet negotiations were under way. Instead of seeing it as the sick and twisted perversion that it was, they were actually starting to look at it as something that made sense. She knew it wouldn't be long before other groups started to pop up and declare their status as triples or even quadruples.

              She had to put a stop to it. She simply had to. And she had to regain the power that she had lost. Without her role as a community leader, she was nothing. She could not command the respect that she once had, could not shape the way the community was evolving. Her destiny in this life was to be in charge, to be a decision maker, to be the one who commanded others. But in order to do that, she had to wrestle that power back from the man who had taken it from her, the man who was now enjoying the respect and admiration that was due her.

              She reached over and opened the drawer in her nightstand. Inside of it was a .45 pistol, the same one she had carried on her hip when she had been a committee member. She reached out and touched it, feeling its cold steel. She smiled a little.

              There was only one sure way to put a stop to Skip's influence in her town and regain her favor. She would have to remove him permanently, silence him so his words could not counteract hers. It was the only way.

              Part 10

              The soldiers that had marched on Grass Valley had been back in Auburn for three days now. Their mission had been a complete success in many different ways. First and foremost, the small gold country town had been fairly rich in food stocks. The residents had been in possession of more than twice what the early recon unit sent there had predicted. The town had also had a fairly sizable, though poorly armed, population. After a battle of less than thirty minutes, during which six Grass Valley residents had been killed, the town, its will to fight destroyed, surrendered unconditionally. The victorious 2nd and 4th platoons had returned with a total of 130 fresh women to be bartered over and traded, and 40 additional men that could be conscripted into the Placer County Militia as soldiers. The captured women had already been doled out by lottery to the men in town and had taken their places as junior wives. The captured men were still being held in the high school buildings where they were being "taught" the Auburn way. Most of them seemed receptive to the teachings but there was still that disturbing trend of males that would rather die then enjoy the paradise being offered to them. There had been four of them in the Grass Valley group so far and there were two more that seemed unhappy and teetering on the brink.

              As bountiful as the mission itself had turned out to be, perhaps the greatest achievement had been the manner in which the platoons and their spoils of war had returned. Instead of marching exhausted into town, their prisoners laden with supplies, everyone on the verge of total exhaustion, they had driven into town in a caravan of four-wheel drive pickups and SUVs. Though great sections of Highway 49, the main route from Auburn to Grass Valley, had been washed away or buried, enough of the side routes had been left intact to bypass these sections. The going had been very rough in a few places it was reported, and sometimes the caravan had had to swing miles out of their way in order to find a passable route, but it had been done. The entire group had made it all the way back utilizing roadways and vehicles, making the trip in only eight hours instead of the nine days that it took on foot. The possibilities that this roadway opened up was very exciting and Barnes was spending most of his time thinking of ways to exploit it.

              This quick return had also moved up the timetable on the Garden Hill mission. Since the platoons had returned more than a week early and since they did not need the extended rest period that typically was required after a mission, they were now, at 7:00 AM, assembled on the lawn of the high school undergoing final inspection before moving out. They stood in razor sharp lines, at brisk attention, their weapons on their shoulders, their packs, heavily laden with food and extra ammunition, upon their backs. There were four platoons of forty men each. Each platoon was divided into four squads of ten. Each squad was equipped with two automatic weapons and eight semi-automatic weapons in addition to shotguns, tear gas guns, and one sniper rifle. Colonel Barnes walked slowly up and down the lines, looking at each soldier that he was about to send out, saying a few words to each of them. Finally, the inspection complete, he stood at the head of the formation, next to Acting Captain Bracken, and addressed them as a group.