Aftermath Law

"Iona…" he said in between kisses around her inner thighs, "I think I love you."

"Don't say that. Don't," she said, moaning as he once again got close to her dripping pussy.

"I'm sorry," he replied.

"If anyone finds out…" but her complaint turned into a loud moan as his lips met her clit and trailed down to nestle in between her tender inner labia. She gyrated her hips as he lapped at her hot juices, teasing her clitoris with his nose as his tongue delved into the depths of her sensuality.

The howling wind outside seemed to echo her yelps as he took her over the blissful edge, sucking her clit into his hot mouth as she came in little rivulets, pressing his head to her body with her hands, locking him in place with her firm thighs against his ears as she screamed out in response to the incredible sensations wracking her petite frame.

"Oh Aithran," she said breathlessly, "you're amazing. I never felt like that before…"

"Perhaps it's something you'll remember me by," he said, a slightly mournful tone to his voice.

"We still have all night together," she said, running her fingers through his hair reassuringly, "so let's enjoy it while can."

"Why did we never do this before?" he asked as he moved up to her side, tracing his palms over her stomach and settling them on the sweet swells of her tender breasts.

"I don't know. But we only have a few hours to put that right," she said, "and right now I want to feel you inside me…"

"You're sure?" Aithran was concerned. "They put Wendal and Saffie to the torch for…"

"That's just a story mothers tell their children to reinforce the Aftermath Law. You don't honestly believe it, do you?"

"Well…" his fingers traced circles in her soft dark pussy hair.

"Come on, no one could possibly find out." She pulled his head towards her, planting her sweet lips against his to kiss him reassuringly. One of her hands moved down over his skin, over the thin tangle of soft hair on his chest, down his firm stomach and under his small leather briefs. "Our secret," she whispered, and her fingers closed around the hot hardness between his legs.

He looked into her eyes as she mounted him, pushing his underwear away to guide his stiffness into her slick warmth.

2

The village lay under the paltry light of the winter solstice sun, a collection of small ramshackle huts in an open area of old parkland that was one of the rare areas of the urban wasteland not covered by collapsed or collapsing masonry. Built out of fragments of concrete and brick, the tiny houses were solid, but distinctly unattractive dwellings. Architecture was one of many arts that had been forgotten as human society faced more pressing concerns.

In the centre of the village, an open area that had been cleared of most of its snow acted as the focus of the community, and as the sun peaked in the sky, a ceremony was under way. At the head of the ritual, an old woman dressed in blue stood on a small platform, leading the villagers in prayer.

"Bless them and make them fruitful," said the priestess, holding her hands up to the sky. "May they scavenge wisely, avoid the dangers of the city and live long to bear fruit in many new villages. In these and all things, Amen."

The crowd all responded with their own amen, and the group of men who stood directly under the gaze of the priestess turned to the rest of the villagers. The two groups converged, with the women and small number of children saying their final goodbyes to the men folk who they would probably never see again.

At the centre of the turbulence, Aithran and Iona held each other. She sobbed quietly into his shoulder, and all he could do was hold her tight and run his fingers through her silky hair, caressing her to try and calm her sadness.

And it came to the time, with the men hiking up the heavy scavenging bags onto their backs and leaving the village for the last time. Aithran was the last of them, finding it impossibly difficult to break up from her embrace. But this was time – he'd been waiting all the years of his life for this moment, when he would become a man and start his travels.

"I have to go," he said, breaking away from her desperate hold.

"I love you," she whispered, so that none of the other villagers could hear.

"And I love you," he whispered in reply, "I always will."

There were tears in both their eyes.

"Come on, Aithran," one of the other, older men called him. "If we don't leave now we won't get to the next village before sun down."

And he was forced to leave her. "We will meet again," he said, turning to walk towards the departing men, "I promise."

*

"How do you cope with leaving every six months?" he asked Gregan as they followed the rest of the men winding their long way through the concrete jungle.

"You get used to it," Gregan replied, "you'll see – in a couple of years it'll seem like you've never done anything else but move on every Solstice."

"It numbs my mind to know that I'm never going to go back to the place where I grew up." He didn't reveal the true reason why it numbed his mind, however.

Gregan patted him on the arm, "Aithran, that's the way life is, I'm afraid. As men it's our duty to bring back our species. One day, when population numbers are high enough again, men won't need to move around any more and they'll be able to stay near their mothers. But we're pioneers here – future generations will look back on us as heroes, giving up the chance to settle down to give our society a chance."

"It's hard being a pioneer," he said, "and I really don't think I'm the hero type."

"You wait until you're in the arms of the most beautiful girl in the next village, Aithran. You'll soon feel better."

He smiled at Aithran, with a little envy in his eyes. As the youngest in the group, it was his prerogative to choose first when they reached the next village. It would be the same whenever they moved up until they come to a village where another boy would come of age and join the travellers. That was the way it worked – the men picked mates in order of age, the older men getting the last choices of women. It was designed so that the young men, who would have a higher chance of conception, would pick the women with the highest chance of being fertile.

"Are all villages very different to each other?" he asked Gregan.

"Not really," replied the slightly older man, "of course the people are all different, with slightly different ways, but you'll soon fit in."

It was all very odd to Aithran. Here he was in a group of men he had only known for six months, since that was how long they'd been in the village before he had joined them. But now he was going to spend the rest of his life on the road with them. They were his family now.

*

"We're nearly there," said Dretton, one of the older members of their group. They were in a part of the city that didn't seem to be in too bad a condition. The buildings were fairly small and made mostly of brick – very sturdy, ancient little houses no more than eight storeys tall. "Do you see that tower over there?"

He pointed off to the distance, where an enormous skyscraper loomed over the surrounding houses.

"Why hasn't it been destroyed?" Smithie, a short but fairly old man asked.

"It was – partially," he nodded, "but apparently the community of their village originally included some experts in construction and engineering."

"How does he know all that?" Aithran whispered to Gregan.

"He's been briefed by the priestess from your old village," he replied. "that's the way the whole operation works: the priestess in each village knows all about the next village, so that she can brief the men about where they are going next and how to get there."

"Oh, I see."

"This place is quite out of the ordinary apparently," Gregan's features were very animated, transparent to his mood of quiet excitement.

As they got closer, the tower loomed over them, impossible in scale, really taking their breaths away as it rose into the clouds. Aithran stumbled a few times since his attention was not on the road, but on the enormous edifice that seemed to hold up the sky.

"They're here, they're here!" a young girl's voice cried, and they saw her run out of a building in front of them and sprint off towards the tower. Far too young to be of age, Aithran noted, wondering what the women would be like for him to choose from. His heart sank as he realised that he would have to choose someone who wasn't Iona.

The tower was there in front of them, filling their view. A large group of people stood in front of it – this place was larger than Aithran's home village, then – at least twice the population.

"Where's their village?" he asked Gregan.

"You're looking at it," the older man replied, "their village goes all the way up to the sky."

"They live in that thing? How can it be safe?"

"Their ancestors made it safe, back in the days just after the war when the Survivor's Network hadn't even been formed."

Aithran and the men picked their way through the rubble, and approached the villagers.

"Welcome," an old woman, who was presumably their priestess, came forward, "welcome to Camden."

The people moved forward to greet them, and young women put flower necklaces around their necks. Aithran looked at them, already trying to come to a decision. There were quite a mixture of faces, but there were a few strikingly attractive ones. The first choice would be his – maybe he would be able to keep Iona out of his mind.

The welcoming ceremony was similar to their departing ceremony, but the daylight had faded by the time the priestess prayed for their fruitfulness, and the villagers had to hold burning torches to illuminate proceedings.

Then, finally, it came to the time for choosing. The women all presented themselves to the men in a line, and the priestess motioned for Aithran to come forward and look at them.

"Go ahead," said the priestess as he approached the line of women, "inspect and choose."

He went forward to the line, turning to see Gregan's encouraging smile behind him. There were a lot of very different looking women here – that was the gene mixing process working perfectly – but for now, Aithran had the pick of them all, so he was only going to be looking at the youngest ones. There would be more chance of a healthy infant if he conceived with a young girl.

Out of the entire line, about six or seven were less than a few years older than him, and two girls looked to be just as old as him – they must have come of age right on that Solstice as he had done. Five out of the young seven were very pretty, the other two perhaps a little plain, so it was a difficult choice. He would spend six months with his selection, after all.

"Take your time," the priestess said to him, "this is the most important decision you'll make until the summer solstice. Touch them if you like – they won't object."

He nodded and approached the first girl, who had a bob of golden blonde hair. She smiled at him, her emerald green eyes urging him to pick her. He touched her cheek gently, enjoying the feel of her hot, soft skin, and she moaned quietly, perhaps trying to seduce him into choosing her.

But he moved on, slowly getting more confidence, until he felt able to run his fingers over the entire girls' bodies to feel their curves and their trembling flesh. In the end, he had decided that it would be between two girls – the youngest of them all, a pretty little redhead, and a slightly older girl with very dark brown hair. But the older girl just looked a little too much like Iona, and that hurt him deep inside.

He moved to the young redhead and took her hand, "this one," he said, "I choose this one." The redhead's face lit up, filled with joy at being picked by the most eligible man, and she looked briefly to her fellow village women to communicate her excitement.

The priestess nodded. "Go on, Sarah," the old woman said, "take him up."

The redhead took his hand and led him away, and he heard the other men begin to choose before they headed into the tower.

"My name's Sarah," she said to him as they went into the huge building.

"I'm Aithran," he replied, wondering at the extravagant clean elegance of the place.

"I'm so thrilled that you picked me," she said, "I came of age today, and I was picked first!" she almost squealed in delight.

"Where is your house?" he asked her, not really understanding the concept of living in a huge tower like this.

"I have an apartment," she said, "it's like a house but it's inside this tower. None of the men seem to understand how we live here when they come ever solstice."

"It's certainly nothing like my old village," Aithran said.

"We have to walk quite a long way up, I'm afraid," she said.

It certainly was a climb, but Sarah explained something of their society as they went up, and he found that by the time they reached the door she announced as hers, he had warmed to her.

Inside, the place was very large – much larger in area than even an entire house back home. Sarah explained that they had so much space in the tower that they didn't really know what to do with it all, so their apartments were all very big. But what Aithran was so taken with was not the size, or even the stylish furniture – which must have been well scavenged – his jaw dropped as he walked to the enormous windows, and the entire world spread out before him.

"Oh my God," he said, "this place is amazing!"

"I love it here," she smiled, happy that he was impressed.

"Why was it never destroyed in the war?"

She shrugged, "I don't know really – I was never much interested in history. I think it was built out of some amazing new material that prevented damage. It wasn't completely untouched, though – I know our ancestors had to carry out some extensive repairs."

"It really makes you wonder what the world will be like when its fully populated again. If humans can achieve this…wow, it really blows the mind."

"Now," she said, "do you want some food first?"

"That would be great."

"Then I'll get a bath ready and you can soak your tired muscles."

During a well-needed feed, Sarah boiled a load of water and went through to a bathroom with it. Aithran finished, and she led him through to where an enormous tub lay filled and many candles sat flickering all around. As he undressed, Sarah sat on a chair nearby. He had never bathed in the presence of a girl before, and it made him feel slightly nervous. Silently, he told himself not to be so foolish – he would be spending six months with this girl, and in that time no doubt she'd become as familiar with his body as he was already.

As he finally dropped his small leather underwear, however, he did notice a fire in her eyes. He felt her gaze on his stirring penis as well as the cool air. Trying to keep calm, to retain some dignity in his nudity, he tried to blank his mind. Thankfully the soap in the water did well to lend him some cover, so that when he looked at the young redhead, and the way her tight dress revealed the shape of her underwear and her curves, and her crossed legs revealed the tops of her stockings, his erection lay hidden.

"Won't you join me?" he asked, not wanting to have to get out in front of her in this state.

"Oh," she hadn't been expecting that, "well…yes, of course."

It was as though she'd had his seduction all planned out in advance. She must have known that someone would have picked her – she was certainly one of the prettiest in the community, and definitely the youngest out of those who were of age. It might have surprised her to be picked first, but she had obviously prepared herself well. He wondered if Iona had spent the day back in their home village preparing for her new man.

But then Sarah came towards him, standing close to his head as she began to remove her clothing, and Aithran managed to keep his mind away from thoughts of Iona. She slipped off her shoes and placed a black nylon covered foot on the edge of the bath so that Aithran could look right up her dress to her black silk panties. He placed his hand on her knee as she rolled the stocking down her thigh.

Taking off the stocking, she changed feet to remove the other. Aithran glided his hand up her inner thigh to touch the soft silk of her underwear, and she moaned softly as he caressed her, feeling the moisture seep through the delicate material. She deliberately delayed removing that final stocking to allow him to continue stroking her between her thighs, but then he withdrew his hand to encourage her to undress further.

He felt his hot hardness throbbing against his stomach as he watched her slip her dress over her curves to reveal a petite frame that was very easy on the eye. She had very pale skin, but creamy and enticing rather than pallid and anaemic. The black silk that covered her small breasts and her mound contrasted starkly with her body.

"You're very beautiful, Sarah," he said, tracing his hand back up her thigh as she stood close to the bath and reached behind to flick the catch on her bra.

"Thank you," she smiled, but then flinched as his fingers reached her panties once again. "Oh God," she whispered, and her bra dropped to reveal sweet little breasts peaked by pale pink nipples hard as diamonds.

He sat up in front of her and raised his hands to her waist, hooking his fingers over the elastic of her panties to slowly bring them down her abdomen, over her hips and then allowing them to drop to the floor. Her bright cherry red bush was right in front of him, seeming to reflect the light of the candles with its colour. She didn't move as he used his fingers to gently explore her, trailing in circular motion all around her most intimate area.

His fingers reached her tender pink slit that was already very wet, and she parted her legs slightly to give him easier access. Two fingers slipped inside her young, hot vagina, seeking out her inner topography, finding her most sensitive point and kneading it gently to spur on her heavy breathing and soft moans.

It all became a little much for her then, and her legs visibly trembled.

"Climb in," he said to her, and she opened her eyes and nodded. He licked his fingers as she climbed in, and he gained a nice view of her scarlet framed pussy as she did so. She sat down astride him, and he immediately helped her slide his hard penis inside her burning hot vagina.

She twined her arms around his neck and her breath was coming faster and faster while a faint flush coloured her face and upper body. She lowered herself and took all of him inside her and his hips bucked upward in response as he groaned softly. Sarah leaned forward until her perky little breasts were in his face, and he took first one and then the other nipple in his hot mouth, licking and flicking it with his tongue and then sucking it firmly in his mouth.

Her hips began revolving in a corkscrew motion and she pushed down so that the tip of his penis touched the entrance to her womb. He lost control then, grabbing her behind and thrusting up, faster and faster as his orgasm neared. Sarah answered every move with her own, her hair flying wildly about her face as she swung her head from side to side.

She screamed and he came with her, the sensations almost hurting they were so strong. Her orgasm coincided with his, and she cried out and slammed down on him as her entire pelvis shook in spasms. She collapsed, her hips still moving, her vaginal muscles contracting over his throbbing penis as if milking the last drops of semen, desperate for every last chance of conception.

Yet as Aithran's erection softened within her, he did not feel the pure exhilarated satisfaction he had experienced with Iona: there was a slight emptiness that came from an emotional detachment from this stranger he had just penetrated. Would that always be the case now? Would he never experience that intense fire again?