Descending From tbe Mist - Pt. 01

'Bibbity bibbity beep... bibbity bibbity beep...'

It wasn't at all surprising, when my smartwatch started ringing out that familiar old chime, its screen flashing blue with warning. It happened every day -- as it does to everyone, these days. It usually came along in the early afternoon, for me; sometimes earlier if something got me riled, sometimes later if I was tired or flat or feeling down, but almost always at the most inconvenient time.

And always daily. Once a day, every day. Same as for everyone else. All of us who have survived. Everyone, everywhere.

And while it wasn't surprising to hear that chime, it was vexing all the same. I had been having a very nice Saturday afternoon. I had brought my kids to a birthday party, for the daughter of one of my ex's BFFs. My ex, Kimberly, was working an afternoon shift down at the hospital, but I had always got along with her circle of friends, and I had maintained good terms with all of them even after the breakup. So I was happy to bring the kids along to celebrate their friend's birthday, and I had been having a nice time myself, chatting and laughing with Kimberly's circle, many of whom I counted as close friends of my own.

And now here I was, with my smartwatch beeping at me -- telling me I had ninety minutes to find someone to have sex with. Or I would die.

I quickly fought down the usual rising sense of dread. 'It's okay,' I thought to myself as I muted my watch. 'I can do this. I did it yesterday; I'll do it today; and I'll do it again tomorrow. I'm not dying today,' I told myself, as I did every day.

I looked around the crowded party room, filled with presents and cake and decorations --- and unheeding children, all of whom were thankfully spared of this malady --- and I found I was attracting a few sympathetic expressions from my fellow parents and adults. We all knew the drill. Our BlueAlert apps all made the same noise to alert us, so they all knew exactly the state I had found myself in. "Code Blue?" asked Jeff, husband to one of my ex's besties.

"Yup," I sighed. "I'd better scoot. Are you guys right to keep an eye on my kids for me?"

"Yeah Steve, we're fine," nodded Toni, Jeff's missus. "We'll watch your kids, we won't need to go anywhere. Jeff and I always do the deed in the mornings, to keep the Mist at bay."

I nodded; lots of couples did the same, it was a smart tactic. It did a lot to reduce the risk of copping a 'Code Blue' at some random time during the day. Single life was certainly a lot more perilous than coupling up, these days!

"I'll try not to be gone too long," I promised them as I prepared to leave.

"Aw go on, Steve," Jeff began, as a dirty grin sprouted on his face. "At least make it worth the lucky lady's time."

"Jeff!" Toni scolded, rolling her eyes as Jeff cackled wickedly.

I couldn't help but match Jeff's grin. "I'll give it my best shot, mate," I promised him, even as I headed for the door.

***

As I stepped out into the car park, phone in hand to load up the LifeSaver app, I couldn't help but dwell on the turn life had taken in these short three months since the 'Blue Mist' swept the world.

There was once a time when a lady like Toni would never have stated so casually that she and Jeff fuck each other first thing every morning. There was once a time when Jeff and I would have never cajoled so openly about me dashing out to get my rocks off. Hell: once upon a time I would have been mortified to know that a whole room-full of people could see that I was gagging for a shag, alerted to the fact by the tell-tale 'bippity bippity beep'ing of a smartwatch warning.

But these were the times we all faced. All of us.

The Blue Mist was a thing. It was real. It had claimed millions of lives the world over, during the initial wave before the symptoms (a growing blue mist in one's vision, followed by shortness of breath, palpitations, and ultimately, coronary arrest), and the treatment (coming to orgasm during sex would clear the mist and buy us another day -- masturbation wouldn't cut it, it was sex or it was death), were officially linked. And even now, after months of the whole world living with the condition, every day thousands of folks still lost their lives -- usually due to some set of circumstances that saw them unwilling or unable to achieve sexual release before their hearts seized. Claimed by the Mist.

We had all lost people. Friends. Family. So many of our older generations were lost during the first wave that the average age of our nation had dropped by twenty years. We had thought Covid was bad -- and it was -- but the speed with which this new malady spread across the world, and the sheer scale of lives lost to the Mist, put the old coronavirus well in the shade. Plenty of us had close calls with death, especially in the early days before the BlueAlert and LifeSaver apps came out. I myself have memories of my whole field of vision drowned in that awful, vivid, iridescent blue, sprinting madly through the streets, crying out for help, for a shag, for someone or anyone to save my life...

"Umm, Steve?"

I started -- I realised I had been staring unseeing at my phone, the LifeSaver app well and truly loaded, showing details and locations of ladies in my immediate area who were also Coding at that very moment; also seeking a partner, willing to get it on in the name of staying alive.

I turned around, and I saw Renae. Another friend of Kimberly's, Renae was slim in build and petite in figure, yet with an awesome athletic gym-toned rumpiness to her rear end, her face fair and pretty and always smiling, approachable and open.

"Oh hey -- sorry Renae," I said, as I regathered my thoughts.

"I saw you rushing for the door," she observed, ever the hostess -- it was her little girl's party we were attending, and she seemed concerned. "Everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, yeah," I assured her. I pulled a wry face, showing her the big blue alert screen on my watch face. "It's a Code Blue, that's all."

Renae's eyes fell to my timepiece for confirmation, and I saw something flash across her face -- too quickly for me to recognise or dwell upon. "Aha," she observed, in understanding. "I guess you and Kimmy didn't, uhh, take care of business this morning?" she needled, teasingly.

I pulled another wry face. "No, the kids were up too early, we didn't get a chance," I explained. I left out the part where Kimberly and I'd had another big fight last night, and neither of us were in the mood for preventative action that morning -- shagging on with an ex might be a convenient way to keep the Mist away, but it didn't always mean the greatest of times between the action.

"Fair enough," Renae returned; something in her tone had me suspecting that she already knew full well why Kim and I had not taken care of business this morning, Kim was never shy about airing out her grievances on her inner circle's WhatsApp chat. "So then: any decent action on LifeSaver, in this neck of the woods, this time of day?" Renae went on.

It seemed slightly odd to me that Renae would remove herself from her daughter's birthday party, to chat with me about my current Code Blue, and my prospects for action via LifeSaver. But I didn't question it too hard: I'd always had something of a heavy crush on Renae, going way back to when I first met her, and I did enjoy a chance to chat with her. "I haven't really looked at it yet," I confessed. "Trawling the app gets so grating, day in day out. I was probably just going to Google up the local Coupling Clinic and try my luck, face to face."

"The old fashioned 'meet and greet', eh?" said Renae. "Been a while since I've hit the 'meat Markets', myself."

"Can't hurt to look," I reckoned. "It would certainly hurt less than a Blue Coronary, at the very least!"

"Is true!" Renae laughed.

We spent a short second in silence. I looked at her, and she looked at me, until she seemed to come to a decision.

"Listen, Steve," she began. "If it would save you a trip to the Coupling Clinic, or precious minutes spent trawling through LifeSaver... I mean," she went on, "you can go and do that if you'd like, but if it would be easier, and if it would get you back to the party, back to your kids, quicker..."

I frowned mildly, even as I listened, trying to divine where she was going with this, what she was trying to say. It was quite unlike Renae, in my experience, to become tongue-tied, to waffle on, looking a bit lost, and possibly... unsure? Embarrassed?

It finally dawned on me. "Renae?" I asked her. "Are you offering... um, suggesting..." I chuckled at myself, as I wondered how to say it without sounding like an idiot.

Renae read my face and took heart, and she quickly rallied. "Can I save your life today?" she asked of me, with a beatific grin.

I blinked, and I had to resist the urge to do backflips in glee. "That would be brilliant," I assured her.

"Great!" said Renae.

"Great!" I echoed. "Umm," I added, only to find myself uttering that famous phrase which is surely repeated a billion times a day, every day, the whole world over:

"Where should we go?"

***

Luckily for us, the party venue was operated by folks of an understanding nature: the disabled toilets had a new sign on it, showing a blue exclamation-point within an inverted triangle, the new and internationally recognised symbol to indicate that the room behind that door was available for folks needing a life-saving union.

Renae and I shuffled on in, and I locked the door behind us. "So..." I said, as we beheld each other shortly. I already had the too-familiar blue tinges around the edges of my sightlines, but I simply had to ask a question. "I'm assuming Patrick won't mind?"

"Patrick's fine," Renae confirmed, mildly, referring to her partner. "He's already a few 'points up' on me, this is my chance to catch up."

I nodded.

"And I understand that you and Kimmy are completely open, when the need arises?" Renae grinned.

"Uh huh," I confirmed. "She and I are only hooking up out of convenience. We ask no questions, and we don't keep score. I do wonder, though," I went on; Renae had an awfully inviting look in her eye and she was already advancing on me, and I found myself clasping her hands and intertwining my fingers in hers -- to demonstrate a real willingness to connect with her, on my part, while also subtly holding her off for a few extra seconds to check: "You are her best friend... so Kimberley might mind, if you and I..." and I trailed off, wincing, hoping I wasn't blowing a chance at something truly awesome, right there and then.

Renae paused shortly to look me in the eye, even as she squeezed my fingers between hers. "It's good of you to worry," she murmured -- before pulling me close, to whisper:

"But I've already put it to her, prior to now. And she said I could go for it."

And before I had a chance to dwell on that marvellous revelation: she kissed me. And in that kiss, there was a need, a yearning, a desire very real and immediate.

Renae wanted me. Renae needed me.

And as the Mist surged on me, suddenly painting my inner eyelids a dark and threatening shade of blue, I was determined to repay Renae's kindness, to return the attraction to me she had shown.

Our hands caressed and explored each other's bodies as we kissed and crowded near. Renae's kisses were urgent and hungry, giving volume to a very real want, a bright-burning desire for me, so I kissed her deeply in return. My hands had been cradling her face, reverently, preciously, but I let them pass down her body, along her curves and hips, falling to grasp her brilliantly toned rump which I squeezed, greedily and possessively, making her yelp and giggle.

"I take it you like my arse, then?" Renae observed, leaving off our kisses to come up for air.

"Mmm hmm," I intoned, even as I nuzzled her neck. "Best buns in the postcode, bar none."

"I am pretty proud of my arse, actually," Renae volunteered. "A gal's gotta work hard to keep things taut at my age... and I don't mind showing it off, time to time," she added, shyly.

"I think I may have caught one or two such shows," I returned. "A time or two in very tight denim, where you were bent right over, even down on all fours -- an awesome sight," I promised her.

Renae beamed to hear it. "Kiss me," she instructed.

"Yes ma'am!" Kiss her I did: she responded wonderfully, welcomingly, raising her legs to wrap around my waist as I pulled her by the arse in closer, crowding the growing lump in my pants into her crotch which made her moan anew.

I found myself acting on instinct now, moving without thinking, as the heat and the need and the Mist took hold of me. I lifted her shirt over her head and away, and I had her bra unhooked in a flash -- as I leaned back to take in the view though, I found her clutching the cups to her chest, cringing slightly.

"I hope you don't mind small boobies," she said, self-consciously.

"Are you kidding?" I asked of her, even as I snatched her bra away greedily and pinned her arms up and behind her, provoking a combined laugh and cry of dismay from Renae as I brought her breasts into view. "I'm a big fan of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee!"

"Don't call them Itty Bitties!" she cried, laughing all the same.

But I drank in the sight of her, loving what I saw and letting it show, my face flooding with desire as I took in her gloriously small but pert breasts, her nipples standing tall and proud, utterly delicious. "Boobs don't need to be big to be beautiful, Renae," I promised her.

She took in my words and the look of fire in my eye, and I saw her melt a little. "Steve..." she sighed as we met again, my own shirt gone, allowing us to collide skin-on-skin.

My kisses lit her on fire again as I trailed them down her chest to concentrate on those tall hard nipples, and she clawed wildly at my jeans. My fingers flew as I unzipped, unbuckled and unbuttoned myself to ease her path, and as she peeled away my lower layers I quickly pushed her skirt and her netherwear to the floor, allowing us to crowd into each other again -- fully naked now, the ridge of my gorging cock pushing rudely into her moistening slit, as I ground my length unsubtly against her clit.

"Mmm!" she nearly squealed as I did so. She worked a hand in between us to grasp my cock, greedy and needing, in the manner of one finally winning a prize long lusted-after. "Fuck but I've wanted this, Steve," she told me. "I have wanted you for the longest of times..."

"Almost as long as I've wanted you, maybe?" I ventured.

Renae beamed at my confession. "Since the day we met?"

"Since the day we met," I confirmed.

Renae bit her lip. "I want to suck your cock, Steve..." she cooed, looking sexy as hell.

"No time," I growled; the Mist was rushing on me, it was building and accelerating as it sometimes did when I was truly worked up, and there were already tell-tale flutters in my chest to warn of the palpitations in store if we didn't hurry things up.

"Please?" she asked, softly, all big wet eyes and trembling lips...

I couldn't help but relent. "Go on then," I told her. "But I'm going awfully blue here, Renae."

"You can have my cunt in a quick minute," she promised me, dirty and wonderful even as she fell to her knees. "Just let me suck this cock!" And she had me in her mouth and she was going to town, and I looked down the length of my body to take her in, this vision of beauty, slim and petite in the chest but toned and glorious in the rump as she kneeled before me and she drove up and down, up and down on my cock, her hand falling to pummel her own nethers, swishing noisily and wetly upon her own sex and working me up mightily as she filled the air with her own moans and sighs, telegraphing her intense pleasure at sucking my cock as she had obviously long fantasised about...

'Bibbity bibbity beep... bibbity bibbity beep...'

For a second there I thought my own smartwatch was giving me some kind of "hurry the fuck up" warning, but with a start and then a laugh of delight, I realised that our hot and heavy action had caused Renae to throw a Code Blue of her own.

"Look what you've done to me!" Renae jokingly chastised, as she finally came up for air off my gorging, glistening cock.

"Is that why you intercepted me in the car park?" I asked of her, reaching down to bring her back up off her knees to stand toe-to-toe with me again. "Did you know you were due for a Code Blue? And you looked at me and you thought 'eh, he'll do'?"

"I usually don't cop the Blue Mist until late afternoon or early evening," she informed me. "Often when I'm trying to fix dinner. So annoying!"

"Oh it's the worst," I nodded.

"But Steve: I've always wanted you," Renae promised me. "I've always wanted to get a point back on Patrick by hooking up with you. And when I saw you rushing out the door today with your watch flashing blue, I figured: you'd at least be a little less likely to tell me no, with your life on the line!"

I laughed at her turn of phrase, even as she smiled ruefully at herself. "How could anyone tell you no, Renae?" I asked of her; my vision was nearly lost to the blue tinge now, and my heart was pounding dangerously, my heightened arousal feeding the Mist, bringing it on quicker and harder, that dreadful-yet-utterly-riling sense of one's mortality accelerating along with one's horniness ¬-- but I simply had to do this wondrous lady the honour of taking it slow and treating her right.

I grasped my rod and nudged, promisingly and threateningly at her entry with my bell-end, making her gasp and quiver deliciously, before I withdrew slightly to grind my rude blunt heft into her clit, revelling in the wetness I had inspired in her as she moaned anew. "You're so damn fine Renae, and you're just an absolutely bloody lovely human being, too. This," I added, as I teased her, teased us both by crowding myself slightly into her depths again before withdrawing, slowly, gradually, ever so teasingly, "is such a privilege, Renae, to share this moment with you."

"Oh, Steve yes..." she cooed, trembling now as I saw the Blue Mist rapidly taking hold of her too: nostrils flaring, an unfocused look of abandoned need washing over her countenance.

My self-preservation instincts were screaming at me now, begging me to drive myself on home and save myself as quick as could be done -- but there was one thing I always liked to do, so I took the time to ask: "Do you want this, Renae?" as I lined myself up at her entry, promisingly.

"Yes," she returned -- coarse, guttural, needing.

"How much do you want this, Renae?"

"Bad," Renae nearly grunted in reply. "I want you bad."

"Tell me..." I whispered, even as I swirled my knob around at her entry, swimming in her dripping juices. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me, Steve," Renae told me, her eyes fixed in mine. "Fuck me, Steve. Fuck me, Steve! Fuck me Steve, yes! Fuck me, fuck me!"

I already was fucking her. I had slipped my cock slick, quick and hard into her depths at her first entreaty and I was fucking her, fucking her now, pounding hard and merciless as my needs combined and multiplied with her needs and all control was lost to the wind.

"Steve yes," Renae intoned, "Steve yes," she said again as we met so intimately: her legs were back up around my waist as she said "fuck Steve yes", I had my core locked and my strength engaged to lift her bodily as she moaned "fuck Steve fuck Steve yes", my arms supported her thighs and my hands cupped her arse as she grunted "fuck fuck FUCK YES Steve FUCK", and I spread her wide as I pounded her, and pounded her, as she lost all control and she yelled "FUCK STEVE YES STEVE FUCK STEVE YES STEVE FUUUUUCK!" and she yelled and cried as I thrust and I pounded and I slammed my cock into her, a rising wordless cry took hold in my own throat and she joined me, and we hollered and sang as our orgasms hit at once and we came, she creamed on my cock and I shot my load deep and hot into her begging wet cunt and we came, and we came, and we came some more.