Jessamy Beech Ch. 08: Bristol

Slowly Jessamy's hands moved from Alison's waist upward, feeling her ribs beneath the basque and the swell of her little breasts, cupped tightly in blue satin. She tugged the fabric down a little, revealing Alison's aching nipples, "They're beautiful."

"I always thought they were a bit ..."

Jessamy held a finger to Alison's lips to silence her, then ran her fingernails up to her shoulders and down to the puffy aureoles and taut nipples, trapping them between her fingers and squeezing them gently.

Alison cried out, visibly trembling.

"Are you cold?" asked Jessamy.

"No," said Alison, shivering, "you're ... you're turning me on."

"Is that a problem? Shall I stop?"

"No. Please, no."

"Tell me what you want," whispered Jessamy, softly blowing on Alison's bared breasts.

Alison gasped, "Touch me, Jessamy. J-just touch me ... the way you touched Merida."

Obediently Jessamy released Alison's nipples and slipped her fingers slowly down the slender curves of the Corporal's pale, quivering body, past the dimple of her navel, down to where the top of her satin thong clung to her flesh. Her hand gently slid under the material, moving down and down until she felt soft, crinkly pubic hair.

"Ohfuck," Alison gasped, biting her bottom lip. She pressed her hips towards Jessamy's searching fingers as they found the smooth top of Alison's tender labia, warm and moist. Jessamy sought delicately, gently, until her fingers found the little protruding blob of flesh between, swollen and proud with desire.

"J-jessamy ..." Alison moaned.

"What now?" Jessamy purred, teasing one of Alison's nipples with just the tip of her tongue.

"Make me cum," she tangled her fingers in Jessamy's damp hair, pulling her suckling mouth onto her nipple, while Jessamy's fingers dipped into the slick juices seeping from Alison's sex, and returned to caressing her clitoris.

Alison's breathing came in pants. She writhed in Jessamy's arms, helpless, delirious, "Put your fingers in me."

Jessamy did as she was asked, stroking Alison as she liked herself to be stroked, one finger rubbing and rubbing against her clitoris while two others dipped into the moist tunnel of her vagina. Alison's thong stretched between her ass cheeks, chafing and stimulating her elsewhere.

"You like that?" Jessamy asked.

"Y-yes."

"You like being fingered by another girl?"

"Yes," Alison groaned. She clamped a hand over Jessamy's, pressing her fingers more firmly against herself, "I ... I like girls."

"Good," Jessamy nodded and with her fingertips, teased the little area inside the front wall of Alison's vagina that Ross had always found so difficult to find. 'G Spot' Merida had called it.

Alison began to heave, thrusting her breasts and her loins towards Jessamy's hands and mouth, and suddenly flung back her head, gasping, crying out, "Oh yes ... Jessamy, I'm cumming. Please don't stop, don't stop."

Jessamy watched as every muscle in Alison's body went rigid and quivering, her eyelids fluttering as her orgasm possessed her. A trickle of fluid squirted out over Jessamy's hand and spattered the carpet. Jessamy clung on tightly as Alison staggered, trembling all over with the delicious echoes of her climax.

She knelt, and pressed her cheek against Jessamy's breasts, murmuring, "Fuck me, that was so good. You ... know exactly where to touch a girl."

Jessamy smiled and kissed her hair, "Glad you liked it."

Alison pulled a face, "But I wanted to do something for you. Cheer you up a bit?"

Jessamy leant forward to kiss Alison on the lips, "Thanks, but I'll be fine."

But Alison hard other ideas, she reached up to catch Jessamy around the neck and pull her mouth down to kiss her again, "I'm still horny even if you're not. I want you Jessamy Beech."

"Is that an order, Corporal Nethybridge?"

"Yes. And I'm not Corporal Nethybridge this evening. I'm Merida, remember?" she twisted in Jessamy's embrace until they were facing each other, kissing deeply, then reached around Jessamy's shoulders to push the fluffy white bathrobe off all the way, "You've got much nicer tits than me. I wish I had breasts like that."

Without another word, she leant forward and touched her lips to Jessamy's swollen, sensitive nipple. Jessamy closed her eyes and gasped with pleasure as Alison put her arms around her and held her tightly. She'd not had physical contact like this with another person since leaving Threlkeld and she realised just how much she'd missed it.

They slid down on to the lumpy mattress with Alison licking hungrily at Jessamy's breasts, making her moan and writhe. She lacked some of Merida's subtlety and technique but more than made up for it with enthusiasm.

Finally, Alison lifted her head and said, "Jessamy, could we ..."

Jessamy squirmed, feeling a delicious warmth spreading between her thighs. Was it the wine? "What do you want, Alison?" she asked gently.

Alison hesitated, "I want to ... I want to kiss you down there."

At fucking last, thought Jessamy. Merida had never beaten around the bush like this.

"All right," Jessamy nodded.

Jessamy lay back on to the covers, looking at Alison through half-closed eyes with an expectant smile. Alison lowered her lips again to lick and suck at Jessamy's distended nipples, making her moan and shiver. Gradually she kissed further and further down Jessamy's smooth belly and as she did so she turned her own pale body so that they were lying with their lips close to each other's thighs.

Jessamy marvelled at the contrast between their bodies. Hers, toned and lightly tanned; Alison's soft, pale and carrying an ounce or two of extra fat here and there.

Despite being content earlier with pleasuring Alison, Jessamy was now desperate to feel the other woman's soft tongue exploring. She spread her legs apart, lifting her hips eagerly towards Alison's face. Alison gave a little whimper and reached forward, setting her lips between Jessamy's legs, breathing in her scent.

Jessamy felt her tongue, just touching, tentatively licking, and cried out with pleasure as she seized hold of Alison's white thighs. She dug her fingers into the globes of Alison's ass and tugged her thong to one side, until they were lying pressed together, their mouths buried between each other's legs, licking and sucking hungrily.

Jessamy spread Alison's thighs wide apart, stabbing with her tongue at the soft folds of flesh, parting them, thrusting her tongue as deeply into Alison as she could, while at the same time Alison's gentle caresses swept across her clitoris, filling her with unbearable pleasure.

Their bodies undulated, heaved, shining hair brushing against each others' thighs, tongues flickering, probing. Jessamy felt her climax approaching, boiling up inside her. She pulled Alison's vulva down harder on to her searching mouth and caught her clitoris between her lips, and as the throes of her orgasm gripped her she heard Alison crying out. The flesh beneath her lips clenched and spasmed as fluid dribbled down Jessamy's chin.

They lay still for minutes in a blissful fog, holding each other and committing every detail of the last few minutes to memory, until their bodies cooled sufficiently to feel the chill in the room.

"That was amazing Alison, thank you."

Alison draped her MTP jacket around her bare shoulders, "Was it? I'd never done it before."

"You mean ..."

Alison looked down at her feet as she pulled off the sopping wet thong, "I ... was a virgin. I know ... I've always liked girls, but I've always been afraid to make a move in case they'd just laugh in my face or turn me down. You seemed ... different."

"I think the way the world is now ..." began Jessamy taking Alison's hand. She had to keep reminding herself that despite her petite stature and inexperience, Alison Nethybridge was five or six years her senior, "you need to give and receive affection whenever you can. And with whoever. Rules don't apply anymore."

Alison nodded in agreement, "Did you love Merida?" she asked suddenly.

"Um ... yes. Yes, I did ... in a way," Jessamy's eyes stared across the room at nothing, unfocused, "and now she's gone I don't think I'll ever be able to love anyone like that again."

Alison exhaled noisily. She waited for a few seconds, as if lost in deep thought, then started to gather her clothes together, snatching them up from the floor, "I better get some sleep, I'm on second watch."

Jessamy pulled the discarded bathrobe around herself as she watched Alison stomp off into the ensuite, her demeanour changed over the space of a few seconds. She could still taste Alison on her lips and tongue, but her thoughts were elsewhere, "Oh Meri ..."

. . .

"But what do you do with it?" Jessamy asked, turning the penis shaped piece of purple silicone over in her hands.

Mpenzi laughed, "Well, it's ... you know. When you get the urge and there isn't a man around. If we find some AA batteries on our travels, I'd be glad to demonstrate."

Jessamy handed the sex toy back, wondering what else Mpenzi and Alison had plundered from Ann Summers.

After the events of the previous night, they'd spent the day exploring Clifton, scavenging for anything edible or useful. Alison showed them tearfully around the four storey Georgian townhouse she'd grown up in, now ransacked and stripped of every item of furniture, with an enormous dead elm tree collapsed through the wall of the master bedroom. They discovered what looked like the tracks of some big cat in the vicinity of the old Bristol Zoo and remained wary until safely back inside the hotel.

It seemed that the lemurs weren't the only animals to have escaped and bred.

"So ..." Mpenzi slapped her thighs, "we need to come to a decision. Alison here has tried to raise Woodvale again ... unsuccessfully. We can only assume the worst. General Chinnor and his crazies are hot on our tails and we need to fucking move. Soon."

Jessamy dismantled and cleaned her SA80 as she listened, while water came to the boil on their camping stove for some freeze dried delicacy she'd never tried before called 'Pot Noodle'.

"If anyone else got away, where would they go to regroup?" she asked.

Mpenzi thought for a moment, "The army barracks around Salisbury Plain were all pretty badly hit by meteorite strikes. Aldershot maybe ... or they might head for a naval or air force base."

"What if we can't rejoin the army?" asked Alison. Jessamy noticed that the comms specialist had been a bit offish with her all day and wondered if it was because of something she'd said or done the night before. After a few swigs of wine that she was unused to, her memory was hazy.

Mpenzi shrugged. She turned off the gas and poured boiling water into the three plastic pots, "We become a roving gang of three crazy women. Sexy, sassy and tooled up to the eyeballs ..."

She waggled the purple vibrator at them both and laughed. Alison grinned, blushing at the same time.

"What about the big naval base in Plymouth?" suggested Jessamy.

Mpenzi nodded slowly, "Devonport? Maybe."

Neither of the others knew that Jessamy had an ulterior motive for suggesting Plymouth. It was much farther to the south cross country, but also on the coast of Devon just across the border from Cornwall. If she could persuade them that the naval base was their best bet, she'd have two companions to look out for her along the way. Strength in numbers.

If they declined, she'd go anyway, alone.

"Alison, after you've eaten, see if you can raise them. See if anyone's still alive down there," Mpenzi picked up her Pot Noodle and twirled a spork in the steaming contents, "yeuch! I think I'd prefer to eat rat shit than this."

. . .

"Devonport, this is Scavenger One. Are you receiving this?"

Static.

"I say again, Devonport, this is Scavenger One from RAF Woodvale. Are you receiving this?"

Mpenzi and Jessamy regarded one another while Alison tried her hardest to make contact. They both knew it was hopeless ...

"Devonport, this is Scavenger One. Can you hear me?"

"... port ... eading you loud and clear ..."

Mpenzi punched the air, "Yes!"

Alison waved a hand for quiet, "Devonport, what's your current situation?"

"Uh ... we're fine Scaven ... One. Ticking along nicely. Wh-who are you?"

'Ticking along nicely?' Not very military sounding, thought Jessamy.

"We are three survivors from RAF Woodvale," explained Alison, talking loudly and slowly, "Sergeant Lupita Mpenzi in command. Corporal Alison Nethybridge and Private First Class Jessamy Beech. Our unit has been overrun and we'd like to offer our services there ..."

There was a heavy silence for long seconds. So long that Jessamy thought Alison had lost the signal.

"Three ladies. Uh, okay Scavenger One. We could ... ertainly use the extra firepower. When can ... expect to see you?"

Mpenzi gave Alison a thumbs up.

Alison nodded, "We are enroute to you now and should be in Plymouth in about a week's time."

"Look forwa ... to meeting you. Safe journey ... evonport out."

Jessamy let out her breath, though she hadn't realised she'd been holding it. It had worked. Once Mpenzi and Alison were safe with their Royal Navy colleagues, she could make her escape across the Tamar River into Cornwall.

She was almost home ...

THE END OF CHAPTER EIGHT

On what had once been the A9 between Thurso and Inverness, Hamnavoe stamped on the accelerator, "Hold onto yer tits JB!"

KRUMP!

The council snowplough they'd requisitioned on the outskirts of Thurso broadsided the rusting Mitsubishi pickup blocking their path and pushed it off the road. It toppled onto its side in a litter filled gulley where it would remain, Jessamy guessed, until the end of days.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Jessamy asked from the passenger seat.

"Driving wasnae this much fun before Thanatos."

Jessamy frowned, "You were old enough to drive before all this? I was only eight when I was sent to Mull."

KRUMP!

A tiny mint green Fiat practically flew off the road as Hamnavoe slammed their truck into it. They'd reasoned that the journey south towards Gloucester would take far too long on foot so had opted to find a suitable vehicle instead. With so many broken down and abandoned cars on the roads they'd needed something big. Sourcing enough fuel had been the hardest part.

"I was ... mid twenties? Why'd you ask?"

Jessamy stared at him in mock horror, "You're old enough to be my Dad! I've fucked an old man!"

Hamnavoe made an obscene gesture, "Fifty five. Plenty o' lead in the old pencil yet darlin' ... if you fancy a nap you could always rest yer pretty wee head in ma lap ... an' while yer doon there ..."

"For fuck's sake, don't you ever stop?" Jessamy shouted, trying to stifle a laugh. Despite his coarseness and bad manners she was growing to like Hamnavoe. She leaned back, studying his bruised, grizzled face as if for the first time ...

"What are ye starin' at lass?" Hamnavoe angled the truck between two stationary motorhomes, the wheels jouncing in and out of great cracks in the road surface. Jessamy couldn't believe he was fifty five. He didn't look a day over forty. There were a few grey hairs and crow's feet under all the bruises Keaton's militia had inflicted but she had to admit he was actually quite handsome.

"Nothing," she smirked.

"It's gettin' dark. D'ye want to stop fer the night?"

Jessamy glanced at the road atlas they'd found in the glove compartment, "Where are we?"

"Coming up to Dunbeath."

Jessamy glanced over to her left. It was hard to believe that they'd sailed north along this coastline from Nairn only a matter of days before, taking Hamnavoe to Kirkwall. The North Sea looked the colour of graphite, the roiling cloudbanks above it even darker. To their right, the grey emptiness of Caithness stretched away for as far as she could see, interrupted only by small, unremarkable mountains like Coire Na Beinn and Ben Alisk and the blackened craters of recent meteorite strikes.

"There's a museum or something up ahead on the left. Laidhay Croft. There should be a car park."

"Right y'are," Hamnavoe peered through the grimy windscreen and the swirling flakes of grey snow. The snowplough truck had only one working headlight so they prayed weather conditions wouldn't deteriorate. Sure enough, half a mile later a faded brown sign announced LAIDHAY CROFT.

Hamnavoe swung off the road into the deserted gravel car park, "If you fancy a quick shag before ye turn in lass I might be able to manage the once."

"Just once? What's the matter Hamnavoe, can't get it up now you're old?"

Hamnavoe winced as he stopped the truck and pulled up the handbrake, "I might find all that thrusting into yer delectably moist nether regions a bit painful with a few broken ribs lass."

Jessamy smiled and patted his shoulder, "Guess I'll just have to finger myself to sleep tonight then, eh?"

Hamnavoe's eyes lit up as he opened the cab door, "Can I watch?"

Jessamy turned as she opened her own door, "Go fuc ..."

She stopped.

And stared.

Not believing what she was seeing. Was it a trick of the light? She hopped down from the truck's cab and drew the handgun Gorbachev had given her.

"What is it lass?" Hamnavoe called. He raised his M16.

Laidhay Croft had once been a top tourist attraction in the area. When visitors tired of the Clynelish distillery in Brora or the splendour of Dunrobin Castle to the south at Golspie, they could travel here to see how simple folk had lived, in the replica crofter's cottage ... and the adjoining cafe and gift shop obviously.

Jessamy scanned the area as she approached the single storey thatched building, still not sure if her eyes were playing tricks ...

Four corpses were nailed to the whitewashed cottage wall by their hands. A young woman, a man, and two boys who hadn't been more than five or six. Crucified. They'd all had their throats cut. Daubed in foot high letters of dried blood were the words:

EVERYONE WILL DIE

"Bastard," muttered Hamnavoe through clenched teeth.

This was exactly how the Orcadian families had been found - the crime Hamnavoe had taken the blame for. Jessamy turned away, feeling nauseous, "Yep. Trevithick. Looks like we're going the right way."

COMING SOON - CHAPTER NINE: HELSTON