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From: Al Steiner <steiner_al@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} NEW: Aftermath 1 by Al Steiner (Mf) 4/4
Date: Thu, 12 Oct 2000 10:10:05 -0400
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AFTERMATH 1 4/4
Send comments to steiner_al@hotmail.com




They made almost five miles the next day, moving steadily uphill and
keeping the roar of the canyon at a low rumble to their left.  Though
they saw no other human beings as they trekked over rises and through
gullies, they saw plenty of signs that others were nearby.  They saw
old food containers, a few lean-to structures such as the ones they
slept in, even the remains of a failed campfire once.  Brett suspected
that others were leaving them alone because of the firepower they were
packing.  Having the entire group carrying military assault weapons
like they knew how to use them was a great deterrent to anyone who
spotted them and thought about trying to take their supplies.

That was all fine and dandy to prevent direct assaults upon them, but
what about an ambush?  Most of the people stuck up here had probably
been hunters.  That meant that most of them were probably carrying
hunting rifles.  Would it occur to someone to try and take them out
from cover, such as the way he had taken Ricky and the others out?  If
a person was hungry and desperate enough, it just might seem a good
gamble.  And people WOULD be hungry and desperate.  As they had moved
along Brett had seen precious little that could be used as food.  They
had seen plenty of dead and rotting animals along their way but not
many living ones.  Not even squirrels or raccoons, perhaps the most
abundant pre-comet life forms in the mountains besides bugs, showed
their furry faces, let alone deer or bears.  If he and his group had
not secured canned food from the trailer, they would be starving now as
well.

He could think of no way to counter this perceived threat of ambush
other than to keep a sharp eye out for anyone tracking them or
following them.  Such a person would more than likely shadow them for a
while, waiting for the best opportunity to strike.  Brett knew that if
the attack were to happen, HE would be the first one shot, probably
through the head during one of their breaks.  It would be quite obvious
to anyone plotting against them that he was the leader of the group and
the most dangerous one with his rifle.  He did not mention any of these
fears to Chrissie or to Jason, not seeing any advantage in it, but he
did obsessively check their rear and their flanks as they hiked.  The
fact that he saw nothing did not make him feel any better.

As they went, he continued to instruct them on basic combat techniques
applicable to small unit action in a wooded environment.  He made them
learn hand signals, various voice commands, and the difference between
cover and concealment.  He explained about covering fire, shooting and
moving, and flanking maneuvers.  Most important of all, he explained to
them how to make a fighting retreat.

"We're not trying to hold any ground here, you understand?" he said.
"Our objective is to stay alive.  In any fight situation, if we can get
the hell out of where we're at, then that's what we'll do."

As had been the case with their firearms instruction, he realized that
he was not exactly giving them a complete knowledge base.  Nor was
there any real way to have them practice the techniques since he
figured that staying in one place for any length of time was just too
dangerous.  But, as had been the case with teaching them how to use the
M-16s, it was better than nothing.  Perhaps, if push came to shove, the
things that he had taught them would save them and keep them from
panicking.  You had to take any advantage that you could get in this
new world.

They made camp that night a little earlier than usual, while the meager
light that penetrated the cloud cover was still in the earliest stages
of its long fade to black.  Again, Brett had the kids pick out the spot
and construct the lean-to.  He was gratified to see that they required
little instruction from him during this second attempt.  While they
were working on it he walked around the perimeter, checking out every
conceivable vantage point that an enemy (which, in his mind, consisted
of anyone who wasn't them) might use to spy on them and plot an attack
from.  He found nothing amiss.

As he had done the previous night, Jason went directly to bed after
dinner.  Brett wished him pleasant dreams and told him, in a man to man
voice, to keep his weapon close by, just in case.  Jason very seriously
assured him that he would do just that.  Brett had realized as the day
had gone by that Jason was developing an attitude very much like hero
worship towards him.  He tried to do everything as Brett did it; the
way he walked, the way he talked, the way he carried and stored his
rifle.  This attention sometimes made Brett feel proud but mostly just
scared him.  He was no hero.  He was simply a man trying to survive.

Again, Chrissie stayed up with Brett after her brother had gone to
sleep, staring out of the shelter at the approaching darkness and
listening to the water roaring through the canyon.  Their conversation
was not nearly as somber as it had been the night before.  They stayed
away from the subjects of dead family members and friends, of the dead
world they now lived in, and talked instead of neutral things.

"So it sounds like you were one of the high school elite," Brett told
her as he sipped from his customary can of beer.  "You were a
cheerleader, honor roll student, I bet you were homecoming queen too,
weren't you?"

"I was NOT the homecoming queen," she giggled, slapping playfully at
his arm.

"No?"

"No," she confirmed.  "I was runner-up."

"Ahh, so you were a loser then, were you?"

They had a laugh about that for a moment and Chrissie took a few sips
out of her own beer.  "What about you?" she asked him, edging a little
closer to him.  "Were you a preppie back in high school?  Were you in
the happening clique?"

"No," he told her, noting her lateral motion but doing nothing to
discourage it.  "I was actually part of the stoners."

"The stoners?" she said, disbelieving.  "But you're a cop."

He shrugged a little.  "You'd be surprised how many cops and nurses and
paramedics and firemen came from the stoner clique in school.  I
stopped smoking it when I graduated and that's why the department
didn't reject me when they did the background check, but I probably
smoked a pound or two in my glory days.  I went through the majority of
my junior and senior year in the freakin' stratosphere.  My grades were
barely high enough to let me graduate.  If I hadn't of tested so high
on the ASVAB the army wouldn't have even accepted me into flight
training when I signed up.  I almost ended up a grunt instead of a
pilot."

She looked at him in wonder, her blue eyes shining.  "It's hard to
imagine you as a stoner," she said.  "You're so serious now."

"I'm serious because survival depends on it.  Catch me sometimes when
we're NOT in the middle of a global catastrophe and you'll notice a
startling difference."

They shared another few moments of companionable silence, during which
Chrissie took the opportunity to inch even closer to him, until her
left hip and leg were in contact with his.  Without stopping to think
much about the ramifications of his actions, Brett put his arm around
her shoulders, pulling her against him.  She cooed a little and
snuggled into him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"This feels nice," she said softly.

"It does, doesn't it?" he replied, feeling pleasant chills surging
through him as he felt her closeness.  The chills were accompanied by a
strong sensation of guilt.  What, his mind demanded, did he think that
he was doing?  Why was he putting his arm around the girl he had vowed
not to touch the night before?  Why?

Almost before he realized it was happening, he was kissing her.  She
turned her face up to his, offering an expression of surrender as old
as the kiss itself, and he responded to it, touching his lips to hers.
Their kisses were gentle at first, light pecks of affection.  But
gradually they became deeper, more passionate.  They lingered sweetly
and he allowed the tip of his tongue to poke out and touch hers.  At
this first contact of tongues she twisted in his arms, turning her body
into his.  Her arms came up around his neck, pulling him tight against
her.  Once again he felt her breasts pressing against his chest through
their shirts.

He pulled his mouth from hers in fear and guilt, breaking the kiss but
not letting go of her with his arms.  He saw desire in her eyes,
wanting.  "We can't do this," he whispered, feeling himself trembling
in her arms, feeling his erection building in his pants, feeling his
resolve already slipping.

"We can," she whispered back, sliding her hands up and down on his
back.  "It's all right.  I like it when you kiss me.  I WANT you to
kiss me."

He shook his head weakly.  "You're just sixteen," he said.  "I'm more
than twice your age."

"So what?" she said.  "I'm a woman and you're a man.  We don't have
anyone else.  What's wrong with what we're doing?  Who does it hurt?"

"It hurts you," he told her.  "I'd be taking advantage of you."

"I don't feel like I'm being taken advantage of," she said, giving him
another soft kiss on the mouth.  "I feel like I want to do it some
more."

"Chrissie..." he started.

"It's not like I haven't done this before," she said next.  "I know
what I'm doing and I'm old enough to know who I want to do it with.
Now kiss me.  Please?"

He opened his mouth to give her a firm "no" but she covered it with
hers, sliding her tongue back between his lips.  It was only a second
before he became lost in her embrace, his resolve not just slipping but
free falling to a nasty death.  He pulled her tightly against him and
kissed her back, swirling his tongue against hers, sucking it gently
into his own mouth.

They kissed for more than five minutes, both of them rapidly heating up
as their passion built and then he let his lips slide down to her
neck.  He began to kiss the soft flesh there, nipping at it with his
teeth, giving it gentle sucks and licks, unmindful of the occasional
speckles of mud that he encountered.  She purred in his arms, her arms
dropping down to his lower back.

"Why don't we get in our sleeping bags now?" she panted in his ear as
his own hands slid beneath the back of her shirt, feeling her bare skin.

He had one last moment of doubt that was abruptly squashed when she
began to unbutton her shirt.  The white T-shirt that she wore beneath
it rode up a little, baring the skin of her midriff and exposing her
belly button to him.  Though he still felt it was wrong, though he
still felt he was taking advantage of her, the sight of her pale,
smooth stomach in the fading light decided him.  He wanted her as bad
as he had ever wanted anyone before, even Julie.  He wanted her and she
was willing to give herself to him, so he would have her.

He watched her undress for him, not making any move to take off his own
clothing just yet.  Underneath her T-shirt she wore a simple black
sports bra.  It molded to her breasts, accenting the fact that her
nipples were hard beneath it.  She gave him a nervous smile, clearly
unaccustomed to a man watching her disrobe, and then she pulled it over
her head, baring her breasts.  They were as close to divine as a set of
breasts could be.  About the size of grapefruits, they sagged not an
inch, standing up firmly and proudly as only the mammaries of teenage
girls can do.  They were capped with pink aureoles that were barely
darker than the surrounding flesh itself.  The nipples were small but
rigid, just begging for his mouth to suckle them.

"You're beautiful Chrissie," he told her, letting his hand reach out to
run over her right breast.  She took in a sharp intake of hair as his
palm crossed the nipple.

"Thank you," she said, blushing, breathing quickly.

After kicking off her muddy boots and her filthy cotton socks, she lay
on her back and began to unbuckle her pants.  She snapped the button
open and pushed the zipper down, revealing the front of her panties
beneath.  They had once been white but seven days of constant exposure
to mud and water had turned them a dirty brown.  Brett didn't mind.  He
grabbed the waistband of the pants and pulled, bringing the pants and
the panties down in one motion until she was able to kick them off.
She now was completely naked before him, lying on her back; her
beautiful cheerleader's legs lightly spread.  Her pubic hair was only a
light covering of blonde fuzz, just a half shade darker than that on
her head.  He could see that her vaginal lips were swollen with
arousal.  The odor that he had noted the night before struck him again,
only more powerfully and with a heavier tint of sexual musk.

"Come on," Chrissie breathed, lust in her eyes as she looked at him
looking at her.  "It's your turn.  Take your clothes off."

He did just that.  While he removed his boots, socks, and shirt,
Chrissie unzipped her sleeping bag all the way and crawled inside of
it.  When he pushed his pants and underwear down, freeing his straining
cock from its confines, she leaned up on one arm, her eyes locked onto
it.  She reached out with one hand and grasped it, feeling its girth,
sliding her palm up and down lightly on it.  It felt so good that Brett
just held in place, letting her masturbate him.

"Come to bed," she said, patting his sleeping bag, which she had pulled
next to hers after flipping it over to make sure the zippers were both
on the same side.

He nodded, taking a quick look at Jason, her brother's presence
occurring to him for the first time since they kissed.  He was still
sound asleep, snoring softly, completely oblivious to what was going on
right next to him.  That was good, Brett thought as he unzipped his bag
and climbed inside.

They let their two sleeping bags overlap each other, in effect creating
one big sleeping bag.  Brett pulled her to him, feeling her naked
breasts against him, feeling her soft legs touching his.  He slid his
hand up and down her back as their mouths came back together and their
tongues found each other once more.  As the kiss deepened, Brett slid
his hand down to her butt, touching it, feeling the firmness of her
cheeks.  Her hand reached out to find his cock again and she began
sliding it up and down softly.

He kissed his way down her neck to the hollow of her throat, spending a
moment there before continuing his journey downward.  His face rubbed
over the swelling of her breasts and he let his tongue reach out and
lick between them before he kissed his way to the nipple of the nearer
one.  He took it between his lips, tonguing it gently and then suckling
it.  Chrissie moaned softly from above him, continuing to caress his
cock, her free hand on the back of his neck, encouraging him.

After several minutes of attention to the left breast, he switched to
the right, pulling himself a little further atop her.  She rolled over
onto her back to allow him freer access.  He took advantage of this
position by letting his hand slide over the front of her thighs.
Though her calves were somewhat scratchy due to the lack of shaving,
her thighs were baby smooth and very feminine.  He stroked them with
his fingertips, moving from the knees to the upper thighs and gradually
forcing his hands in between them.  She spread her legs for him as she
felt his hand traveling towards her center and soon he was touching the
junction between her inner thighs and her crotch.  He let his fingers
slowly explore her.  They moved through kinky pubic hair and across
soft, velvety outer lips before finding the warm wetness of her inner
lips.  She moaned again as he touched her there and then again as he
slowly slipped his middle finger inside of her.  Her sex was saturated
with her musky juices and very tight.  He could feel her muscles
clenching at him strongly, gripping his finger.  He added one more
finger and began to slowly push and pull, sliding them in and out, up
and down.  He let his thumb lightly touch her erect clitoris and she
jumped, squealing a little.

"Shhhh," he whispered, bringing his head back up to her face and
kissing her lips.  "Wouldn't want your brother to wake up now, would
we?"

"Sorry," she whispered back, in a voice that was not quite steady.

Their lips came back together as he continued to move his fingers in
and out of her.  After several minutes she loosened up slightly and her
hips began to rise and fall in a gentle rhythm.  He kept up the
manipulation of her clitoris with his thumb and soon she was panting
against him, her hands clawing at his back.

"Mmmmm, oohhhhhh, oohhhh god," she groaned into his mouth.  Her thighs
tightened against his hands and her pelvis rose forcefully upward.  He
kept her mouth covered with his own until her spasms died away.

"Oh my god," she whispered excitedly to him, kissing his cheeks and his
face.  "I've never felt anything like that before."

"You've never come?" he whispered back, slowly freeing his dripping
hand from her sex.  He began to stroke her stomach.

"Well, yes, I have, but never like THAT.  I've never had anyone make me
come before.  I've always... well... you know?"

"Played with yourself?" he asked, sucking gently on her bottom lip.

"Yeah," she breathed.  "Sometimes I would.  But you did it with your
hand.  And it felt so much better than the ones from MY hand.  My GOD."

"Are you ready for another one?" he asked her.  "A real one."

"Yes, oh yes."

He rolled his body upward, positioning himself atop of her.  He had to
do it entirely by feel since, while they'd been warming up for the main
event, the light had abandoned the sky for the night, leaving them
blind.  This made Brett a little apprehensive since he could no longer
look over to make sure that Jason was still asleep, but not
apprehensive enough to stop.

Her arms came up around him again and her legs opened up, allowing him
to fall between them.  He took his erection in his hand and rubbed it
slowly through her wetness, lubricating it for the coming festivity in
a most pleasurable way.  Below him he could feel Chrissie trembling.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips.
"We can stop you know.  It might even be better if we did.  What if I
get you pregnant?"

"No," she said immediately.  "I don't want to stop.  And if I'm still
around in two months to worry about being pregnant, I'll gladly accept
the consequences.  Do it to me Brett.  Do it to me."

He did it to her.  He put the head of his cock between her soft lips
and pushed forward slowly.  Despite the abundance of natural
lubrication he had to force his way inside of her, she was that tight.
It took a while to accomplish but soon his entire length was gripped
within the snugness of her clenching sheath.  He felt her sparse pubic
hair mingling with his.  He felt his balls resting against her butt.

"Ohhh," she cooed in his ear.  "Sooo big.  So good."

He knew that he wasn't really particularly big, just average, but he
didn't bother correcting this notion at the moment.  He began to move
within her, keeping it slow so as to avoid waking up Jason (assuming he
was still asleep).  Very quickly the going became easier as her body
adjusted to having him inside of her.  Soon he was moving in a
delightful friction, a tight, slippery channel that seemed custom
designed for his pleasure.  Though Julie, his wife, had been an expert
at making love to him, Chrissie had the tightness and the allure of
youth in her corner.  Though she was clearly without much experience,
and though she couldn't hold a candle to Julie's techniques at movement
and gripping, he had to admit to himself that the actual sensation of
intercourse with her was better than anything he had ever felt before.
He could revel in the pleasure of her body for hours.

The factor of Jason kept him from driving into her as he truly wanted
to do.  Instead, he kept it slow, using gentle, steady strokes designed
not to make much noise or rustle the sleeping bags.  It was a tender,
almost hesitant act, though no less passionate than an unrestrained one.

When Chrissie began to buck up and down with her second orgasm, Brett
once again covered her mouth with his, sucking her tongue to keep her
from moaning aloud as the waves of pleasure overtook her.  The
uncontrolled spasms of her tightness against him as she came pushed him
over the edge of his own control.  He felt the inevitability of his own
orgasm building in his groin, moving up and down his spine.  His hips
began to move faster, driving with more power and now creating the
noise that he did not wish to create.  But he could not help himself.
To not thrust potently in her body was impossible.

This time it was Chrissie who kept HIM from moaning with her own
mouth.  She brought her legs up around his back, pulling him even
harder against her.  The spasms began and soon he was unloading thick
jets of sperm into her body, plastering her cervix and overfilling her
to the point that it ran out onto the fabric beneath them.

Slowly the last vestiges of orgasm departed, the strokes slowed to a
halt, and their breathing began to return to normal.  They lay against
each other, kissing softly, their bodies bathed in a sheen of sweat
that quickly gave them chills.  The entire lean-to, despite the
ventilation from the openings on the side, reeked of sexual musk.
Chrissie reached up and pulled the sleeping bag tighter around them.

For the longest time they simply held each other, enjoying the sharing
of their body heat, his wilting penis still nestled within her sopping
opening.  Finally Chrissie broke the silence.  "I think the inside of
my sleeping bag got wet," she said quietly to him.

This gave them the giggles, the sound of which they covered by putting
their lips to each other's necks.

"Are you sorry for what we did?" Chrissie asked him when their laughter
dried up.

He didn't answer her right away, he only laid there atop her for a
moment, trying to examine just how he felt about what had happened.  "I
don't know," he told her at last.  "Ask me in the morning."

"Okay," she said softly.  "But in the meantime, can you hold me for
awhile?"

"Sure."

He pulled himself off of her, rolling onto his back and she laid her
head on his chest.  His arms came around her, crossing protectively
over her back.  Within minutes, both of them were asleep.



Al Steiner 10-11-00

Chapter 2 will follow if readers enjoyed the story
Send all comments to steiner_al@hotmail.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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