Vile Wasteland (A Post Apocalyptic Novel) Read Online Free Page B

blemishes and scars, and despite
the mess of her long, wavy pony tail, she was still above most any
he’d seen.
    With the ample swell of her breasts and rear, it was hard not to
understand why he’d taken an interest.
    With his vest undone he pulled it up over his head then tossed it
to the floor beside them carefully. His body beneath was lean and
well sculpted, his skin a smooth, even colour all across, showing his
dark flesh was definitely not the result of a tan. Reaching out he
placed his hands on her hips and pulled her in against him as he
looked down.
    "That fresh out of the bunker, huh?" He said, lifting
his lips and shaking his head in some disbelief. "Been years
since I heard of someone climbing out of one of those things,"
he gave a light laugh, leaning down just a bit. "Been about a
decade myself since I came out," he added, so close to her now,
letting her see the fullness of his smoothly chiselled good looks,
lined by the shadows cast with his lamp.
    Her fingertips danced lightly against his chest, exploring the
flesh and the muscles beneath, trailing her nails teasingly along his
body. "You musta seen it all, huh?" she asked, her eyes
staring at his chest, transfixed. She took in a deep breath as her
stomach turned, excitement and anxiety brightened her features and
pushed away the dull sleepiness that threatened her. Did she really
want to go through with this?
    So daring and never showing a moment's hesitation, his hands slid
up from her hips over her stomach, brushing against her breasts
before he pushed back her coat from her shoulders, sliding it off so
smoothly. "Just about," he said, tossing her jacket atop
his vest on the floor. "Don’t get to be a caravan man for
this long without seein’ and doin’ a whole hell of a lot,
Alex."
    "And yet you’ve never seen someone steal a backpack,"
she tutted, her fingers going back to his body and creeping lower
along his abs, finding that treasure trail and gliding down it. Her
fingers were so soft and smooth, saved from hard, manual labour and
difficult living for most of her life. Her skin was so light in
contrast to his, and she enjoyed the scene ahead of her, even if she
was scared.
    He sported a glorious male physique, abs so hard and firm, that
little trail of hair so pleasantly soft. Licking along his lips he
gave a soft laugh, "Seen plenty of stealin’, sugar."
He rubbed her shoulders then moved back down, brushing once more
against her large breasts before coming to her waist, fingers curling
in under her shirt, "Never seen a Vile do it though."
    "It was a human," she said, a little confused even as
her hands rose up, allowing him to strip her of the light, cotton
t-shirt and exposing the white lace bra beneath. It hoisted her
breasts, the shadows delving between the thick cleavage, skirting
just above her nipples. Her stomach was smooth and flat, though not
to the extent of being toned.
    Adding the garment to the growing pile, his hard, but smooth
fingers stroked over her stomach, and up along to the sides of her
breasts, cupping and squeezing them through her bra, the tips of his
digits pressed into her breasts. "No hun," he said, "they
ain’t humans anymore," and despite the grim topic, she
could feel his manhood respond to her through his thick black pants.
"They’re what becomes of a human after that shit they
pumped into us ten years ago goes wrong," he explained.
    She clearly didn’t get it, but her fingers worked against
the button of his pants regardless, "Well maybe if they don’t
steal, then the thief was fine." Her palm moved down, over his
clothed cock and rubbed against him, even as she worked the zipper
down. The feel of it through his clothes delighted her, that heavy,
firm bulge pressing into her hand, so constrained and delightful. The
familiar motions brought back pleasant memories of illicit rendezvous
with so many different faces, all so enjoyable in their own way.
    Even though she’d never had sex, she was amazing at