Seven Days

This is a story I first wrote under a pseudonym (Proc0cateur) and since then I've wanted to improve it. Grateful thanks to Cambria for her superb editing skills.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 15TH -- MEETING STEVE RUSSO

It was four o'clock in the morning and Daniel dropped through the gears as he raced his top of the range Lexus LFA around another corner. The heavy rainfall flooding the roads made driving conditions ever more difficult and it was becoming an effort just to keep the car on the road.

The loud, rumbling crashes of thunder and spectacular flashes of lightening seemed in keeping with the sinister happenings that had first become evident seven days ago. They were now coming to a head and it was clear that the world was under significant threat. That was why he and Susie had undertaken their long journey in such a violent storm.

"You okay?" he asked, glancing sideways at the redhead.

She was one of the two female vocalists in his band, which was ironic—in a sense—as that was where this had all started. He just hadn't realised it at the time. Susie was his one link to the future, although he was hoping that number would double in the next hour.

Her faint smile seemed forced, and she pulled the black coat more tightly around her nude body as she stared out of the window.

"I'm okay. How much further?"

"Not long," he answered, pulling the car back on track as it skidded through a pool of water again.

Was this weather never going to let up?

Driving naked didn't help. Even with the car heater turned on full, he was feeling the intense cold. Their wet clothes were spread on the heated seats in the rear of the car, drying out for their arrival.

"We turn left at the crossroads," he told her, checking the car's inbuilt satellite navigation system. They'd driven along so many narrow country roads he'd have been lost without it. "Then we're just a mile or so away."

Despite their lack of sleep, the adrenaline running through his body kept him alert. He'd need all his wits about him when they reached Steve Russo's home. Explaining the danger and convincing the Professor of the need to act wouldn't be easy, although he remained unsure of how much 'Old Man' Watkins would have told him.

If Tom Watkins hadn't been able to explain their concerns, Russo might simply turn them away. Who would believe something this incredible, especially when the story was conveyed by two strangers turning up unannounced at his home at four in the morning?

It seemed Susie's thoughts were aligned to his.

"Should we have called him?"

"No way," he irritably snapped.

He had no intention of giving anyone prior notice of his movements unless he was certain he wasn't walking into a trap.

"Not until we're sure," he added, almost as an afterthought.

He paused, letting the implications of his words hang in the air between them like the Sword of Damocles. They fell silent for a moment, each lost in their own separate thoughts.

The minor road he turned into when he took the left turn at the crossroads was practically under water, and ran along parallel to a high stone wall. It looked like a back road to nowhere, but within a couple of hundred metres they reached an entrance on the opposite side of the road. They'd reached their destination!

Daniel pulled the Lexus to a halt on the grass verge, and stared in resignation at the height of the protective wall. The ugly-looking barbed wire set along the top further complicated matters, as did the wrought iron electric gates that guarded access to the entrance itself.

Gaining entry undetected wasn't going to be easy, especially as his swollen hand was throbbing now. Had he broken a bone when he'd punched his way out of the studio?

"What now?" Susie asked, staring out of the window into the spine-chilling darkness outside.

It was a good question. He sent her what he hoped was a comforting look as he turned in his seat and reached for their clothes in the back of the car.

"We find a way in," he told her. "Let's get dressed."

The redhead's hand stopped him mid-movement. She'd shrugged the coat from her shoulders, displaying her fabulous body to his gaze. Those full breasts and dark nipples wouldn't have looked out of place on a porn star, and his cock began to lengthen as she spread her legs for him and ran the fingers of one hand between her thighs.

She was feeling the need again. So was he. And he'd already learned that such a powerful emotion couldn't be denied. The insatiable need for sex was somehow linked to the cursed fate awaiting the world, and it continued to gather strength no matter how often they fucked.

"That's it," she huskily murmured, watching his erection grow as she lewdly fingered herself. "I want you nice and hard."

And then she was leaning forward, stretching her slender fingers around the base of his hardness as she met his gaze. That look was in her eyes again. Like an animal, needing to feed. And despite their circumstances, exactly the same sensation was running through his own body. A need to quench a thirst that couldn't be denied...

His gaze held hers as she dipped her head and licked around the head of his cock. When she took him inside her mouth and swirled that wonderful tongue around his shaft, he could feel himself grow another couple of inches.

"That tastes so good," she mumbled, looking up at him.

A string of saliva hung between her red lips and his cock. The way she sexily sucked it inside her mouth gave him goosebumps. Then she was moving again—quickly, frantically, like a cat—crawling across the leather seat and finding a way to straddle his naked body in the confined space.

"That feels so good," she huskily groaned, wrapping her arms around his neck as she sank down on his cock. "Fuck me good!"

PROFESSOR STEVE RUSSO

Steve Russo stared out of his bedroom window, enthralled at the way the rain bounced off the outhouse buildings. The thunder and lightning that alternated in the darkness was spectacular, too. He loved stormy nights like this, when the weather was so vibrant.

Night? It was nearly morning. The green illuminated dials on the small clock sitting on his bedside table registered four thirty.

His mobile phone vibrated in the pocket of his checked robe as the next flash of lightening lit up the sky. He allowed himself a smile of satisfaction as he checked the message. Ayesha's taxi had only left his house half an hour ago and it was the third text she'd sent since then. The first two had described in graphic detail what she wanted to do to him the next time they were together. This one listed the things she wanted him to do to her!

His cock flexed inside his robe.

He'd met the Indian Air hostess on his return flight from Delhi, having represented the Government at a hastily convened meeting to discuss what was scientifically becoming known as the global 'Armageddon Phenomenon.'

His focus should have been solely on the destructive forces that had been identified during the top secret conference, but his recent shortage of sex was making him grumpy and Ayesha had impressed him by recognizing him and asking for his autograph.

So... they'd got talking, and she'd casually dropped into the conversation that she was free overnight once they'd landed at Heathrow. Russo had thought about it for no more than thirty seconds before inviting her to stay at his place.

They'd made love within ten minutes of arriving at his home, and had christened just about every room in the house before he'd needed to call her a taxi this morning. But it was their final fuck that would keep him warm until he saw her again. She'd leant her slender body against the cold glass of the bedroom window, arms spread out wide either side of her, ass pushed back, while he'd taken her doggie style.

His cock flexed again, and that made him smile. He had turned sixty only a few weeks ago and yet he was still able to maintain an almost constant erection despite their frantic non-stop fucking over the last twelve hours.

And yet ... the adrenaline inhabiting his body after their intense sex was tinged with a keen sense of guilt. He'd come away from the conference with a mountain of research work to do, all of which demanded his immediate attention, and the Prime Minister was expecting a report from him as a matter of extreme urgency.

With Ayesha gone, he had some rapid catching up to do. Starting now!

But just as he began to head towards his study, the sudden sound of his dogs barking downstairs put his mind on high-alert. The golden Labradors never caused a fuss unless they were disturbed—

He glanced out of the bedroom window again, but he could see nothing untoward. Marching quickly across the room, opened the bedroom door and stilled the dogs with a sharp command.

"Max! Bess!"

The chime of the front doorbell stopped him in his tracks. What the heck? He had a visitor at this time of the morning?

Alarm bells went off in his head and he stealthily returned to his bedside table, sliding the Taurus M85 Ultra Lite Revolver into the pocket of his robe. It was unlikely that any potential intruder would alert him by ringing his front doorbell, but after the conclusions of the Delhi conference, he had no intention of taking any chances.

AYESHA

Ayesha's groan of pleasure had nothing to do with the recollection of the rampant sex she'd enjoyed with Steve Russo. For someone of his age, his stamina had been amazing and she would be trying to schedule her next couple of flights with the intention of seeing him again.

But right now, it was the hard cock driving in and out of her that was making her growl out like a bitch in heat. Even the rain that pounded down on her half naked body didn't dampen her need. Perched high on the hood of the black taxi, the cab driver was fucking her like a machine.

It had become clear soon after they'd had left Russo's home that the roads were close to becoming impassable. It seemed they would have little choice other than to turn back, even though that would mean her missing her assignment on the Miami flight. But then, she told herself, it was unlikely there would be any air traffic in these conditions.

The rain was heavier now, splattering against the bonnet and her body. Her clothes were already soaked, sticking to her skin, but that only added to her frantic excitement. Was there any better feeling than being fucked in the driving rain, with the thunder pounding the sky and the lightning flashing across her lust-fuelled body?

"Fuck me harder," she told him, digging her nails into his skin. "C'mon!"

She began to rock her body against him, crossing her ankles around his back. Being fucked like this was so uncomfortable and yet so incredibly hot. The changed angle as she bounced on the bonnet saw her aroused clit rub against his shaft and her nails dug in harder.

"Faster," she grunted, locking her ankles more tightly around his thrusting hips.

Her palms rested flat on the bonnet behind her so that she could better pump upwards. Despite her marathon session with Steve Russo, this was just what she needed right now—raw unadulterated fucking that was gradually emptying her mind of all other thoughts.

"Fuck me," she chanted. "Fuck me ... fuck me..."

The blonde taxi driver had stopped the cab on a small side road only ten minutes or so ago, turning around towards her to explain he couldn't take the vehicle any further. She'd been caught in two minds. Her devotion to duty had told her she needed to make it to Heathrow at any cost, but the thought of returning to Steve Russo's mansion was equally appealing.

Before she could make a decision he'd signalled to her to lean closer. When she had, she felt the puff of smoke that emerged from his overly-large nostrils permeate all the way down between her thighs.

She wasn't sure what happened after that.

The refreshing feel of rain splattering against her body told her that they had exited the cab. She had a vague recollection of someone positioning her on the bonnet and then dragging her panties down her thighs. It must have been the driver. When he thrust inside her pliant body, she was so wet his cock felt like a knife slicing through butter.

She hadn't been sure she should let him fuck her, not at first, but then another puff of smoke had emerged from his nostrils. And with it came the urgent need to have him fuck the life out of her.

Strangely—and gloriously—it felt as if that was exactly what the beautiful bastard was doing. Fucking the life out of her!

"C'mon," she'd rasped again, throwing her head back so that the rain splattered across her forehead and cheeks. "Fuck, yes, like that..."

His head was leaning closer to hers as his pounding hardness gave her even more of what she wanted. He had dyed blonde hair, like so many others nowadays, and his dark eyes were sunken into their sockets. But she didn't care how spooky he looked. All that mattered was his cock.

When his mouth found her neck, it felt like he was sucking on her flesh like a vampire would its prey. She chuckled to herself. Why had that thought occurred to her? She'd never met a vampire, had she?

She groaned again as she pulled her face back to look him in the eyes. He had a vacant expression on his face, not at all what she'd expected.

When his tongue flicked out again, she saw that it was long and blue, like that of a reptile. Even as the shock hit her system, it was piercing the skin of her neck, burrowing inside her flesh as his cock seemed to force its way up and inside her stomach.

"Oh shit..."

6 DAYS BEFORE THE MEETING WITH STEVE RUSSO

Donna Wilkinson smiled that all-knowing smile of hers as she watched the delivery boy leap back onto his motorbike. Then, pushing closed the deep red front door of Daniel's London Mew's home, she sighed contentedly.

Fixing a loose strand of her long, black hair behind her ear, she ripped open the envelope, wanting to make sure her photographs were up to the standard she expected before showing them to her boyfriend.

Boyfriend? She let out a deliciously throaty laugh.

Yes, Daniel Hesston-Smith was her boyfriend. He was quite a catch and she had set her sights on him ever since he'd taken over as manager of the band. Their fortunes had soared under his guidance and, with a couple of number one records behind them; it seemed their future was assured.

He was sophisticated, intelligent, fun, and most of all he was rolling in money. Despite the variety of women all chasing after him, she was the one who had him, and she didn't intend letting go.

After all, Donna Hesston-Smith had a nice ring to it!

She might be the lead singer of his band, but it was better to be the wife of a man who was going places. The next Simon Cowell, maybe. She would quickly be able to get used to a life of luxury, homes across the world, travelling in a personal jet, sumptuous holidays...

Okay, she was a long way from getting married to him. They weren't even engaged. But she had been blessed with great looks ever since she was a child and had learned very early how to use her body to get anything she wanted. It amazed her how men would do virtually anything to get their hands on a woman with big tits, a flat stomach, a tiny waist and a heart shaped ass!

Why should Daniel be any different? Okay, he didn't think of their relationship as anything permanent right now. For him, it was just a casual arrangement. But that was fine, she could be patient, and she had contingency plans, of course.

Nothing in life went smoothly, after all.

She had told Daniel she'd needed to visit her mother last weekend, whereas in fact she'd spent the two days in the Caribbean with Tommy Becker. The entrepreneur was old enough to be her father, but that hadn't stopped him from coming onto her. He'd been chasing her for a couple of months now. She'd kept him on a string until he'd offered to arrange a photoshoot for her, at which point she'd rewarded him by agreeing to join him on his yacht. It hadn't exactly been a chore. He'd treated her like a princess and had proven to be an exceptionally good fuck.

The results of that photo shoot were in her hands right now, and would be worth every second she'd spent with him. Flicking through the photographs, she felt her heart leap. My God, they were even better than she could have hoped for.

Her tongue danced across her full pink lips as she admired one after the other. Bruno, the photographer, had been true to his word and even better, he apparently had contacts with Playboy! He said he'd talk to them, to see if there was a possibility of arranging for her to appear in the legendary magazine. As a reward, she'd let him take a few naked ones.

He'd promised they were for his own private collection, but Donna wasn't naïve. The photographs could find their way all over the internet. But if the potential prize was a spread in Playboy, then it was worth the risk. To seal the deal, she'd given him the best blowjob he was ever likely to have, before they had finished the shoot. Well, a girl had to make the most of her talents to progress in this world.

She was meeting Bruno again this evening, when he'd promised to let her know what his Playboy contacts had said. If it was good news, she'd promised she would let him fuck her this time.

Gathering the photographs in her hand, she hurried along the long hallway, and took the stairs two at a time until she reached the bedroom. Daniel knew nothing about the background to the shoot, so she had invented an innocuous story that would keep him happy. And she couldn't resist letting him see how hot the photos were.

He was his usual self, talking to a contact on the telephone while rushing around the room as he dressed. She'd surprised him by arriving at his apartment in a fur coat and nothing else, and their resultant early morning lovemaking session had made him late.

"Want to see my photos?" she drawled, in that sexy way she put on when she wanted something.

She leant in the doorframe and ran a hand through her long, glossy hair. Yesterday's visit to the hairdresser may have been expensive, but it had been more than worthwhile. Besides, Daniel's management company was paying.

"I'd love to but I really don't have time," he said, checking his watch.

"Sure you do," she murmured, pouting sexily as she walked across the carpeted floor towards the small dresser beside him.

Placing her hands on the surface behind her, she pushed herself upwards until she was sitting on the top. When her thin robe fell open, his eyes were instantly drawn to her exposed breasts.

The robe had opened when she'd met the young messenger who had delivered the photographs. The spotty faced kid hadn't been able to believe his luck as he'd gawked at her naked tits, and she'd got a kick out of allowing him to ogle them as she'd signed for the envelope.

"What do you think?" she asked Daniel, holding one of the photographs up so that it was framed between her naked breasts.

"Fabulous," he told her, with genuine warmth in his voice.

He was such a sweetie.

When she sexily shrugged the robe from her shoulders, his gaze returned to her breasts. Who could resist them?

"I'm horny again," she simply said, casually shuffling her legs further apart and dropping her right hand between her thighs.

He never had been able to resist when she masturbated in front of him.

His eyes burned into her as she stroked her fingers across her labia. The sight was more than any red-blooded man could withstand—Tommy Becker hadn't been able to—and Daniel hesitated for only a second before he began to rip off his clothes and reach for her.

*

"Nice of you to join me," the Old Man sarcastically told him, when he eventually made it into his office.