Zombie apocalypse fiction – Ruth’s story #112 Sex in the radio tent and a youthful intruder #SHTF #TEOTWAWKI

The next few days pass in relative boredom. Endless hours of work during the day, and long, boring nights listening to radio static accompanied by the fucking whine of the charging handles. I swear that I am getting manly shoulders cranking the charging handles. Shack says that he loves my toned shoulders.

One boring night Shack was feeling particularly amorous. I still cannot believe my reactions. I am usually more circumspect with my sexual encounters, preferring to contain them to the bedroom. I do not know if it is because of this new world, or perhaps because of the fragility of life that Shack was able to persuade me to make love with him in the radio tent.

I am still a little embarrassed when I consider the fact that someone might have walked in on me sitting naked from the waist down on the table with Shack’s head between my legs. My bare dainty feet (as he calls them) over Shack’s shoulders wiggling in pleasure would probably have been the first thing an intruder would have noticed.

I have to admit that Shack is quiet good at cunnilingus better even (I hate to admit) than any of my women lovers. Lesbians often see cunnilingus as a dominance game. She who kneels before the other is the bitch. I disagree with the urban myth that women perform oral sex on another woman better than a man. I have found that men who truly desire to pleasure a woman become very adept at cunnilingus.

Men who enjoy performing oral sex on a woman, like Shack, not only enjoys the act, but also the sheer fact that it is deeply intimate and satisfying for the man to be able to pleasure a woman so well. The tongue is much softer than fingers. I can come quite easily when Shack fingers me, which is nice, but I much prefer the orgasms that he orally gives to me.

The gentleness of oral sex is one of the reasons I enjoy it so much. Shack is a patient and caring lover which heightens my enjoyment. Some men think that cunnilingus is something that is best done quickly, infrequently and only long enough to get a woman wet enough for penetration. Shack takes his time and has learned how to tease me.

Shack will often start by licking and kissing my inner thighs. Then he moves to licking and kissing around my vulva. The anticipation of what Shack is about to do heightens my arousal. As I become aroused, Shack slowly works his tongue over my inner and outer lips avoiding my clit until I become fully aroused. He is getting so damned good at teasing me by licking around my clit, but ignoring it until I am about ready to scream.

His large hands firmly grasp my ass and pull me deeply into his mouth. When I am about to burst Shack gently sucks on my clit, triggering the first of several powerful orgasms. I bit my lip that night during one particularly strong orgasm causing it to bleed. Afterwards, Shack let me return to earth before I returned the favor.

Unfortunately, I am not as gifted orally as Shack. I have a shallow gag reflex, and I have never liked to swallow. Shack does not seem to mind as I discreetly spit into a wadded tissue. I have been tempted lately, since my periods have almost stopped, to let Shack make love to me bare. I am terrified of pregnancy.

I have to admit to myself that I am also secretly afraid of losing Shack. I also have to admit that, secretly I would love Shack to plunge his thick hardness deep into the wet depths of my pussy. I also secretly fear that if another woman offers, I may lose him.

Women are rarer than men these days; I know, but I worry that Shack may grow bored of just oral sex. He has been patient and understanding, but I worry because of his youth. The young have had to mature much faster these days.

After being relieved by a gravid Carol, escorted by Nikola treating her as if she was a Faberge egg, Shack and I headed for the farmhouse for breakfast. My thoughts still clouded with the afterglow of pleasure and my conflicting emotions; I missed what the runner said the first time to Shack.

The young soldier I recognized as one of the Adventist lads receiving training. Shack has him repeat the message again. Shack’s response is an appropriate curse. One of the young girls, not sure which one yet has stepped upon one of the land mines. Thankfully, the young girl had the presence of mind to remain still and shout for help.

Shack runs to rescue the young girl who stepped on landmine while I run inside the farmhouse to inform the colonels. I arrive on the scene just in time to see and hear the blast of Shack’s Serbu Super Shorty. Shack’s Rhodesian jungle load would have been a center of mass hit had the female cannibal not moved so unbelievably quick.

“Fuck!”

Shack pumps the small shotgun, ejecting the spent, clear plastic 2 ¾” high brass shell. Racking the slide forward, Shack takes careful aim at the pale, bald female cannibal. Shack’s first round, tore away the left side of the cannibal’s gray, sleeveless “Love Pink” tee shirt also blasting away the breast underneath. The female cannibal stands there stupefied looking at her missing breast and exposed gray ribs. Shack’s second round tears the woman’s head off in a disgusting spray of chunky brains, and gray flecks of bone.

I step carefully around the trapped young girl who was thankfully not hit. She also had the presence of mind to duck, but remain still. The girl is sobbing quietly as I get close to her. I notice that she is unusually pale. Her hair is falling out in clumps a sign of early secondary KCAP infection.

Shack reloads his Serbu from the shotgun ammo loops on his thigh holster. He replaces the Serbu in the OD green nylon holster on the front of his left thigh. Shack checks the area and gets close to the child.

“She was my mother; you didn’t have to shoot her.” The child sobs as Shack kneels beside her. Shack quickly checks the landmine underneath the child.

“Great she’s stepped on one of the PROM-1s.” Shack looks around the area as one of the older Spetsnas soldiers carrying a small green nylon tool kit approaches. Shack motions for the Spets soldier to hold a moment.

“Make sure you keep your foot down on that mine and don’t move.” Seeing the colonels approaching, Shack motions for the Spets soldier to accompany him to the colonels. I notice that the Spets soldier carries one of the very rare bullpup 12.7x55mm ASh-12.7 assault rifles. I know that the Russian lads also have a couple 12.7mm sniper rifles.

I believe that one of the Russian ASVK/KSVK 12.7mm sniper rifles serves in one of the sniper hides. I also know that the Russians possess at least one of the exceedingly rare bullpup VKS/VSSK Vychlop suppressed sniper rifles as I have seen Nikola fondling it. I just wonder how much of the unique 12.7mm ammo the Russians possess.

A hurried conference concerning the child is held. I look at her headless mother noting that, at one time, she must have been quite lovely. The snug black denim designer jeans, her corpse, wears are cut for a woman with motherly hips.

Shack and I explain, with my translating into Russian, that the child is suffering the initial effects of secondary KCAP infection.

“Should we shoot her?” Sam asks looking over Shack’s shoulder at the child. “We’ve already killed her mother.” Shack looks guiltily at the ground when Sam mentioned his earlier antics.

“You know that is the power of the cannibals” the child remarks. “Once you have eaten someone there is really no place for you to go. No one else will accept you. The cannibals found my mother, little brother and I. They killed and ate my little brother and fed him to my mother and me. We did not know until later that we ate my brother, we thought he had wandered off.”

“Fuck I forgot how well they hear.” Sam looks around at us and shrugs. Sam walks over to look at the child followed by the group. Jamal examines the child checking her eyes and skin.

“I can’t stress how rare young females are right now. She appears to be in the first stages of secondary KCAP infection. How old are you, honey?”

“I’m 12.”

“Do we want another fucking cannibal in the camp, Doc” Shack blurts out. The child cringes.

Sam looks at the clouds and the position of the sun. “We need to do something soon. She can’t stand out here all night and keep her foot pressed down on that mine.”

Doc walks around the child careful not to step on any mines or trip over the wires connecting them. “Hmm, something’s not right.”

Doc places his ever-present stethoscope in his ears and listens to the child’s lungs. Mumbling and humming to himself, he proceeds to slide the stethoscope under the child’s thin blue Sonic the Hedgehog tee-shirt.

“That’s cold.” The cannibal child giggles as Doc slides his stethoscope over the child’s stomach.

“Well, shit.” Dropping his stethoscope on to his chest Doc presses his right thumb and index finger together and then quickly makes the sign of the cross. I forgot that Doc is Coptic Orthodox Christian.