“Oh, yeah,” I moan, “that’s it! Come on…let me feel it.”
Hannah lets out a high-pitched squeak and then a long groan as every muscle in her body tightens. She drops her forehead to the pillow, and I pick up speed.
I can feel her walls caressing my shaft, pulling me inside of her. There’s nothing in my head but the sensation of being inside of her and the glorious pressure all around my cock.
I give up and let go. Waves of pleasure ripple through my body as I empty into her. I hold myself deep inside of her for a moment, but my arms are starting to shake with the exertion of holding myself up. I stroke in and out of her a few more times and then slowly pull out.
I flop over onto my back, eyes closed. I can hardly move. I haven’t even masturbated since the last time I was with her, and it almost feels like the first time. I want to wrap her up in my arms and hold her against me, but I can’t seem to make my arms work. I’m completely sated and in danger of passing out.
Hannah snickers, and I open my eyes to see her propped up on her elbow and staring down at me.
“Did you survive?” she asks, still giggling.
“Barely.” I take a deep breath, but my heart is still pounding. “I hope that was good for you because my cock might not work for another week.”
She strokes my stomach with her hand, letting her fingers outline the scar. I manage to move my arm just enough to wrap it around her shoulders, and she places her cheek on my chest. I close my eyes again and let the warm fog in my brain seep into me.
I startle slightly at Hannah’s voice, my mind still half asleep.
“Is your sister still…still alive?”
“I don’t know.” It isn’t a topic I’ve wanted to consider. “She was living in California last I talked to her. That was…I guess Christmas before all this happened.”
“Did she have a family of her own?”
“She married her girlfriend the day after gay marriage was legalized,” I say sleepily. “Her wife had a kid from a previous relationship. His name was Garth, I think. I only met them once when he was about six. My sister was happy with the whole thing, though.”
“Are…I mean, were your parents still around?”
“Not for a while now,” I tell her. “My father passed away while I was overseas during my first tour—heart attack. My mother passed away from cancer a couple years after that. Both of my parents were only children, so it was just my sister and me left after that. We’re seven years apart and were never very close.”
“Do you think about looking for her? I mean, trying to find out if she’s still alive?”
“Not a lot.” I turn to look at Hannah and reach out to touch the side of her face. “I’m really only concerned about you.”
I pause in my evening patrol, lean back against the detached garage where I left the bike and cart, and light a cigarette. I bring the smoke slowly into my lungs, savoring it before letting it loose into the night sky. I close my eyes and take another draw. It calms me.
The air is still warm and dry. It’s nearly November, and I’m not the least bit chilled by the night air even though I’m only in cargo shorts and a T-shirt. There hasn’t been any rain since the night before I found Katrina.
Tomorrow I’m going to leave Hannah behind and head to the house where the rest of the group should be. If I’m lucky, I’ll find them, and I’ll be able to bring Hannah there before the baby is due. If they aren’t there, hopefully they will have had time to leave me enough information to find them again.
I stare at the orange glow at the end of my cigarette as I finish it off and toss it down at my feet. I grind the butt under my heel to make sure it’s out. The last thing I need is a fire near the shelter.
I must have burned my retinas because the orange glow is still visible to my eyes even when the bu
tt has been extinguished. I blink a few times, but it doesn’t disappear.
I’m immediately alert.
Crouching slightly, I peer at the bright orange glow through the gap between the trees on the far side of the demolished house. It’s no more than five hundred feet from the entrance to the shelter. My muscles tighten—I haven’t seen a light like that in weeks. I haven’t seen a light like that on the ground since I was in Iraq five years ago.
I pull the rifle from my shoulder and hold it in front of me. Stepping slowly past the rubble and into the trees, I follow the orange glow. Just past the trees there are two additional houses, both flattened. Beyond that is a clearing, and in the clearing is a five-sided craft with two long, glowing shafts on either side. The craft itself is small, likely designed for only one or two occupants, but still takes up most of the area.