Chapter 18: Tempted and Tempest-2
520 Words
I heard him flick the light switch and a dim gray-white light sputtered on. The bunker was long and narrow, made of concrete blocks. The ceiling was low, only about six and a half feet, and also constructed out of concrete blocks. Shelves of provisions stretched along one side, with seven five-gallon plastic water jugs, each dated in black marker, on the bottom shelves. On the other side of the room was a twin-size bed with two pillows. A radio and CB sat on a low shelf at the bottom of the bed, with a first-aid kit on the shelf beneath the radio equipment.
“Home sweet home until this blows over,” he said.
“I rather like it,” I said, and studied the shelves filled with food: crackers, instant rice, canned soup, granola bars, a case of juice, jars of instant coffee, and other supplies we could survive on for a while if the world came to an end. “How long could you last in this shelter?”
“Six months. Eight tops. Not a full year.”
“How long did it take you to collect all these supplies?”
“Not long at all, if you want to know the truth.”
I noticed two handguns on the shelf next to the first-aid kit; I thought they were Smith & Wesson military and police models.
Cord noticed me looking at the guns and said, “They’re for protection only. I may need to defend myself if the world decides to end.”
“Smart man,” I said, and helped myself to a seat on the bed.
He looked at me and asked, “Do you want a towel?” I was still wet from rushing through the storm.
In truth, I wanted nothing more than to have Cord lick every raindrop from my flesh. But I settled for “yeah, a towel would be nice.”
He grabbed two towels from a shelf and we dried off. Of course, my jeans didn’t dry as easily as my skin. I asked, “Do you mind if I take off my jeans?”
“Not in the least, bud. In fact, I was thinking of doing the same thing.”
So we undressed, and not just down to our underwear. Full frontal nudity, no timidity, as we dried off, admiring each other’s fit frames to the fullest.
“Now what?” Cord asked, slinging the towel around his neck.
Feeling clever, I said, “Didn’t you say something about seducing me?”
“I think you misheard me, Bradley.”
I knew he was razzing me and shook my head. “I didn’t mishear you.”
“When did you have your ears checked last?”
I chuckled, playing his game like the good—and horny—pet that I wanted to be. “My hearing is top-notch.”
He eyed me from head to toe, taking in my muscles and my package, and confessed, “Your c**k is top-notch, guy, if you want me to be honest.”
I dropped my towel, reached for the limp shaft between my thighs, and gave my junk a brisk shake. As I teased him, I said, “Cord, you should be bold and give this meat a taste. I’m sure you’re hungry for it.”
Without further ado, he closed the gap between us. He pulled his towel from his neck and threw it onto the floor, then dropped to his knees. He reached out and began to firm up my d**k with his hand, saying, “I’m ravenous for it.”
“Then eat up, pal. I’ve got a lot of feed for you.”
And Cord Darringer began to eat, happily.
- Writer
