Page 17 of Cora

“Suck my cock, Rem. I need to feel your lips stretched around me,” Trent pleaded.

“Good boy,” Remi murmured before sliding his mouth around Trent’s… cock? I hadn’t ever heard it called anything but a penis, but if he says it’s a cock, then it must be. Maybe when they’re big like his, they’re called cocks. I thought Derrick was big, but Trent’s is definitely larger. Derrick’s must still be called a penis.

Nodding to myself on my sound logic, I focused back on the men in front of me. Remi was sliding Trent’s cock in and out of his mouth, taking him deeper each time. Trent reached for his head, but Remi slapped his hands away as he came off his cock entirely, a string of spit still connecting them.

“No fucking touching until I say so,” Remi growled, swallowing Trent down again. He continued to bob on his cock while Trent’s fists opened and closed as he tried to keep from grabbing Remi.

Warmth pooled low in my belly, and I realized that watching them was turning me on. I slid a hand beneath my shirt to cup my breast and tease my nipple. A silent moan fell from my lips as tingles covered my body.

The one good thing about being mute is that I can be as loud as I want and still be as silent as the grave.

I leaned against the exterior wall, my hips jutting forward as I slipped my other hand into my pants to play with my kitty. I moaned as my fingers moved past my clit, seeking my core. I was already so wet that my finger slid easily inside of me.

Back in the room, Remi finally grabbed Trent’s hands and guided them to his head. “Use me,” he ordered. Trent growled as he released the restraint he’d had a tight grip on and began to thrust into Remi’s mouth.

I timed my movements with Trent’s, moving my hips to grind my clit against the heel of my hand. I’ve masturbated plenty of times before, but I’ve never done it like this. This was certainly beyond my wildest fantasies, but I liked it; I liked it a lot. Knowing they had no idea they were being watched made it even hotter.

“Fuck, I’m close, Remi; get ready,” Trent moaned.

As his thrusts sped up, so did mine. I was close, too, and I wished I could tell him to wait for me. I wanted to come with him more than anything else.

With a roar, Trent slammed into Remi’s mouth one final time and held him there. His body twitched with micro thrusts as he came down Remi’s throat. The erotic scene in front of me and my sudden desire to be in Remi’s place or have Remi do the same to me at the same time pushed me over the edge. My moans fell from my lips in deep exhales. If they hadn’t been preoccupied and had listened carefully, Trent and Remi would have been able to hear me. My eyes fell closed as I continued to ride my hand through my orgasm, and when I opened them, Trent was on his knees, kissing Remi with his hand moving inside the other’s pants. When I became too sensitive, I retracted my hand and watched curiously as Remi broke the kiss and nudged him toward the bed. Trent crawled to the bed and laid his upper body on the mattress, and his back bowed so that his ass was sticking out.

As much as I wanted to stick around and see what would happen next, I felt I had already stretched my luck and reluctantly returned to the bunker. It had been clear a year into the apocalypse that I could return to the house if I wished, but inthat time, I had grown used to the bunker and felt safer within its walls. The bunker was larger than the house above. It had to contain all the supplies needed to sustain two people for fifty years comfortably. A lot of it was M.R.E.s, which I had taken to eating. They weren’t great, but they did the job. I still had canned and dry goods stocked in the pantry. It just took more energy than I felt like bothering with most days to cook when I didn’t have to.

Daddy had planned the bunker extensively before he began building it. We had a massive pantry and a large room that was supposed to be a greenhouse to grow our produce. I hadn’t bothered with any of that yet. We had a good-sized kitchen, built with processing meats and canning in mind, a living room, a bathroom, and two good-sized bedrooms. The entire bunker was fully stocked and furnished when I moved in. With continued access to electricity and running water, I had all the comforts of home with the safety of being undetectable.

I still returned to the house above frequently, mostly to clean it. Whenever I was upstairs, part of me was always waiting for Daddy to walk through the doors, returning from whatever project he had been working on. Even after three years, part of me struggled to accept that Daddy was never coming home. While I occasionally spent time upstairs, I hadn’t stepped outside in three years. I was too afraid to explore outside, especially when, on occasion, I would see zombies stumbling through the property. Daddy taught me how to protect our property from man and beast; he hadn’t taught me how to protect it from monsters.

I went into the pantry and gathered a few things to bring with me later: two cans of spam, a mason jar of peach preserves, and a container of cereal. I couldn’t bring much, and I’d have to try and hide them a little so they didn’t wonder where they came from, but I expected them to be excited when they found thefood. When my small offering was collected, I returned to the book I was reading. Daddy had all sorts of manuals and how-to books down here, and after watching them build a fence today, I decided to read through the one regarding woodwork. According to the book, they did a pretty good job.

When I stopped hearing them above me, I crept back upstairs. Before sneaking into the kitchen, I checked the bedrooms to ensure everyone was asleep. Silently, I climbed onto the counter and shoved the food in the back of the cupboard’s top shelf. They were taller than me, so I was confident they’d notice the food before too long. Spotting the bag that contained the last of Derrick’s bear jerky, I contemplated for only a few seconds before snatching it up and shoving it into my pocket. Surely, a few cans of spam were worth trading for the rest of his jerky.

I slipped the woodworking book I had been reading into the bookshelf and then went to the bedrooms. I checked on Derrick and Isaac first. They slept soundly back to back. The blanket stretched tight between them as they both clutched it to their chests to keep the other from hogging it. I chuckled as I left them to sleep and went to my old room where Remi and Trent slept. Remi spooned Trent from behind, a leg tossed over him. Trent slept more peacefully in Remi’s arms than he had beside his brother last night. Satisfied all my boys were comfortably tucked in for the night, I returned to the bunker and climbed into bed.

It was nice not to be alone anymore, even if they didn’t know I was with them yet.

Chapter eight

Remington

“There has to be an easier way,” I muttered as I searched the mountainside for an established route to the fire watch tower. I had climbed onto the roof to check out what Trent had seen the day before, and unfortunately, I didn’t see a path. We’d have to head straight up through the forest and hope there would be an easier route from there once we got to the top thirty feet above.

“Well?” Isaac asked when I climbed back down.

I shook my head. “I can’t see anything from here. We’ll have to hike to the top of the ridge and reevaluate. If the route is up the mountainside the entire way, we may need to put some work in to forge a less strenuous path, or it won’t be a very effective escape route.”

“Or maybe it would be the perfect one. Zombies won’t be as inclined to follow,” Derrick snickered. “Get it? Inclined.”

I rolled my eyes. “That joke was so lame a dad wouldn’t even touch it with a ten-foot pole. But also, zombies don’t get tired; humans do, and who says the only thing we’d have to escape from is zombies? Humans are just as dangerous.”

“I’ve got the food packed!” Trent announced, cinching a bag closed and swinging it onto his back. I admired how his muscles rippled beneath his shirt out of the corner of my eye. When these men had picked me up from the side of the road, I hadn’t anticipated finding Trent or what he would come to mean to me. Though, to be fair, I hadn’t expected it to take an apocalypse for me to stop hiding who I was. I was a bisexual man, and not that anyone cared anymore, but I was fucking proud of it.

Three Years Ago

A moan exploded past my lips as Kevin pumped his cock into my ass one final time. My face was pressed into the cool tile of the shower wall as warm water cascaded over us.

“Fuck, you always feel so fucking good, Remington,” he said, kissing the back of my neck. He kept himself buried inside me as his hand snaked around me and wrapped around my weeping cock. With firm, purposeful strokes, Kevin brought me closer to my release. When I started to pant, he flexed his hips, pushing his softening cock a little further inside me to press against my prostate. “Come for me, Remington,” Kevin ordered his voice like a gravelly purr against my nerves.

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