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“It seemed appropriate. We are on Soldier Ranch, after all.” The smiles he reserves for me are nothing like the smirk he lets the others glimpse when he’s amused. For me, happiness shines in his eyes. The expression comes from some place deep inside him, someplace I’m honored to have touched for him.
“Maybe I should go commando, too,” I suggest.
Grim’s hands waste no time finding my cotton-clad bottom. “I will help.” He plucks at my bikini briefs, and tingles race up and down my entire body. I never understood what chemistry was before, but it’s those tingles. It’s the special signals and sensations your body enjoys when you’re with someone you have chemistry with, when you feel safe and cherished. No woman should ever have to be intimate with a man who doesn’t give her those happy little shivers.
How lucky am I that I have this kind of chemistry with seven men? The answer to that is a resounding,Very.
Grim find his way under the cotton of my panties, and his bare hand feels like it covers my whole bottom. I still can’t get over how large Grim’s hands are. He was a construction worker before the Virus, and I bet he was amazing at his job. He’s strong and tough and a hard worker, through and through. And when he uses all those qualities to make love to me, I feel like I’ve hit the sexytimes jackpot.
“Roll onto your stomach, my wife.” He uses the English word, for a change, and it makes my stomach do a happy flip, just like when he uses the Ukrainian version. I turn in his embrace to obey, and as I do, I feel my panties scrape down my legs.
And then Grim does something no man has ever done before. He shoves a pillow under my hips and uses his mouth to search out the most sensitive place between my legs—from behind!His nose burrows between my cheeks, and his tongue strains to lap at my core.
“Oh!”Oh!This is…different. His nose, a strong, Eastern European one, nudges my back hole with his efforts. I worry about what he might be smelling, but then I remember I’ve just had a shower. My body tenses with the newness of the full-facial assault, but it’s a good tension.
What he’s doing feels good.Verrrrygood.
I arch my back, presenting him more fully with what he’s seeking. He answers with a Ukrainian curse, and redoubled efforts. He laps at me and sucks at me. My outer labia get tugged between his lips, each one receiving dedicated attention, and his tongue pierces my entrance.
“So beautiful,” he moans. “So delicious.” And he feasts as though the steak and cornbread we had for dinner left him unsatisfied. My weeping pussy is his only source of sustenance, and he must have it. All of it. Right now.
My orgasm is swift and hard, and then his chest covers my back, and he’s pushing inside me. The stretch is perfection. Each of my men enters me differently. Grim’s first stroke always shudders, as if the first contact between our intimate areas steals his breath.
Then he’s making affirming love to me, each stroke deep and full. His testicles grind at my clit when he’s fully inside me. My head falls between my outstretched arms, and all I can do is lie there and take his passion. I try to push back into him, to welcome him and show him how much I adore this, but his weight compresses the pillow beneath me, immobilizing me. My beast has captured me. I am helpless to his mating.
I never imagined helplessness could feel so safe, so freeing.
I never expected to be with any man like this. Sometimes, I feel like I’m too young to experience this depth of love and physical intimacy with anyone. If the Virus hadn’t happened, I would be starting my junior year of college. I would be going to frat parties and figuring out what kinds of boys I like and what kinds I don’t like. I wouldn’t even have a reason to meet men older than me. Now, I’m in love with seven of them.
Nothing is the same after the Virus. I’m not the same. Maybe in this new world, a girl has to grow up faster. All I know, as Grim grunts and works himself inside me, is that I’m content with how things have turned out. More than content.
I miss my family with an ache that will never go away, but my seven men have helped me have a family again. They’ve helped me begin to heal. And I think I’m helping them do the same.
Everything would be perfect…if we had Jud back.
As if Grim feels the same emptiness at our leader’s absence, he stretches one arm forward and covers my hand with his. His fingers link with mine.
Somehow, I feel sorrow and pleasure at the same time. But it’s the pleasure that grows as Grim whispers to me in his native tongue. I meet Grim’s whispers with a chant of, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
And I come.
This time, the pleasure crests with the full-steam-ahead feel of a tsunami crashing over land, obliterating everything in its path. My ears fill with my drawn-out cry and with Grim’s moan as he shivers within me and pumps me full of his come.
The orgasm rocks me. Pulses of pleasure continue lapping at me, even as I feel Grim softening. He becomes a dead weight draped over me, and I sigh with happiness. My hand seeks out his nearly shaved head. He’s warm and solid, and he’s mine.
As we fall asleep in each other’s arms, that sorrow reclaims its place of prominence. I think about Jud, and I do something I haven’t done in a long time. I pray.
Chapter 4
Brawn
The glass tumblerwith two fingers of Scotch is like a thimble in my hand. Rev, Scrap, and I shoot the shit with the soldiers on their covered porch. It’s a rough-hewn, wood-plank expanse dotted with half-log benches, rocking chairs, and a porch swing painted dark gray. Our porch back home smells like Rev’s mini cigars and Doc’s cigarettes.Since Sarge doesn’t allow his men to smoke (they have no Doc to heal tobacco-ravaged lungs), theirs smells like cedar and the sweet grass that grows around the house.
The moon is a bright crescent over the pastures when our hosts dismiss themselves and head inside for bed. The three of us are alone, now, and the silence that stretches isn’t exactly comfortable. At least not for me.
A couple nights ago, I had a man’s dick in my mouth for the first time ever. Scrap’s. And I had another man telling me exactly what to do with it. Rev’s voice is permanently etched in my brain.“Take it all the way in. Yeah, like that. Now slide it out halfway. Look up at him. See what you do to him. Whirl your tongue around the head. Good, Brawny boy, good. Now suck. Hard.”
I loved every minute of it. I loved the sound of Scrap’s shuddery breaths and the ripple of his abs as I pleasured him. I loved the salty taste of his skin, stretched taut over his iron length, and I was a glutton for his come when he gave it to me. Scrap’s jizz wasn’t the only thing I ate up. I also ate up Rev’s praise. His nicknames for me. His quiet, gravelly voice, punctuated by the rasping sound of his hand over his own cock.
