The Eros Plague Epoch Pt. 01

Part 1

When things happened, it was slow for a little while, a few scattered reports from South America of something coming out of the jungles, and then infections and deaths, survivors who were changed... but it was all in another world until it wasn't.

I'd left the service with a communications degree, full pension, and a compassionate leave a year early. Three years later I'd been heading up a team at a startup for most of that time, using the skills I'd learned on a GI reintegration training program, but mostly basic command skills, to settle entitled social media user's problems with uploads, monetization, and other bullshit that really didn't matter. It was a good gig, though, and it paid well enough that my pension pretty much stacked up in a bank account so that I could hope to afford a house one day.

It was a far cry from what I'd done in the military, but it was calm, it was safe. It'd been an easier transition than I'd thought. The COVID pandemic hadn't hit my family badly, but my mom had a bad case, and I was already getting ready to retire, so when I did, I moved near my folks in Toronto, to take the heat of my brother, who lived in Ottawa. He'd been commuting from his lab job to Toronto for months in the middle of a pandemic, and was thankful for the break.

The benefit of moving back to the neighbourhood was that it was fun to catch up with the folks around it, and being a nearly-forty vet with JTFII tattoos was a great pickup line. I used that every chance, and enjoyed the hell out of a lot of fun in an area that was laden with great bars where lots of women liked to go and have a good time.

A couple days before, I'd wandered around the corner from my place. I lived on a street called Maria just north of Dundas West, and it was easy to go get a bite to eat at any number of great places. As a single guy, I ate at my folks often - usually about twice a week, at my best friend, Allie's, usually once a week to hang out with her and her daughter, or one of the meals I'd make to keep my bachelor life easy, leaving one or two nights a week that I popped out for a bite around eight.

That night, I'd been sitting at the bar of the Cat's Tale, chatting up my friend Lucy, a boisterous bartender in her late-twenties that always gave me a perfect smile when I walked in after I dropped soup off with Allie since she'd been home sick with the kiddo for a couple of days. Saturday night with nothing to do, I headed to the Cat's Tale for a bite and a beer.

Lucy was Asian, pale with black black hair and dark eyes, maybe five-four and a slender hourglass with nice pert breasts. She liked older grey-blonde white boys like me with tattoos and muscles, luckily for me. It was about ten when things were quieting down and she headed downstairs to the washrooms, pinching my ass as she passed.

It wasn't long until I was in the staff washroom with her, and she was flicking her tongue around the head of my cock, the ball of her tongue stud carving a path around the bell edge. I ran my hands through her long straight hair, gently encouraging her to take the back half of my nine inches. She gagged slightly, trying to open her jaw to accommodate my girth. I'm hung very nicely, but it's the thickness that gives me an edge.

Lucy pushed her nose into my short pubes and rubbed her tongue up and down the bottom of my shaft, gurgling gently as she took on a red hue, locking eyes with me.

"Jesus fuck baby, don't asphyxiate," I chuckled, pulling her back by a fist wrapped in her hair, gently, but insistently. She chuckled around my cock and allowed herself to be removed, gasping as my bulbous head popped from her mouth, and she drooled.

"It fucking pisses me off that you hold off this long," she complained as she pumped my cock with one hand, using the back of the other to wipe her mouth, "I only have a half hour break." She kissed the tip of my cock and stood. I had a good nine inches on her, but I bent down in the cramped toilet to kiss her lightly.

"I'm just not getting what I want yet."

"Later," she cautioned, "but only if you pull out."

I rolled my eyes. She knew my weakness far too well by this point. I was too old to pretend I didn't have a breeding fetish.

The first time we'd fucked I'd filled her to overflowing in two sessions, missionary and doggy. Both times cum hard as I rammed home and held her hips tight to mine as she mewled. After, Lucy had raged at me, but I'd paid for her day after pill and charmed her the best I could to calm her down.

The second time we'd fucked, she'd ridden me only after making me swear I wouldn't 'breed' her again. We'd gone for almost twenty minutes when I sat up and whispered, 'I'm sorry, you feel too good,' in her ear and let loose in her as she came down from a screaming orgasm.

Her pussy flooded my lap and bed with our cum, and she'd beat my back angrily as I sucked her b-cups with their dark pencil eraser nipples until she was so horny that I laid her down on her back and mounted her, my fervour surging as she mumbled slutty demands to put a big white baby in her and swell her belly, swept away in her arousal, and her pussy squelched with my thick member's invasion, and the thick load I'd dropped in her already.

I came in her again as her head hung off the side of my bed, her pale skin flushed and drenched in our sweat as I pressed into her, my hips forcing her legs wide and she came, locking down on my as my cock head splattered her insides. Lucy had kissed me hard and declined the plan b money I offered, telling me she had it all covered before she left. I'd stayed away from The Cat's Tale for about a week in case she was pissed, but she'd texted and here I was months later in the staff washroom with my cock slathered in her thick saliva, negotiating to get back into one of the tightest, silkiest cunnies I'd ever had the pleasure of stretching out weekly.

"C'mon Lucy," I stroked her face and leaned in, "you know what you're getting with me if you come over after your shift."

Later, I was watching coverage of the Texas border where a bunch of extra-stupid MAGA types were accusing a group of people fleeing the health crisis in South America of gang-rape. It'd gotten bloody, and it looked like some of the refugees had fought back. Good ol' boys were holding bandages to their necks and shoulders where they claimed to have been bit during fighting.

With that crowd, the stupidest outcome possible usually was what happened, and dumber was their perception, but it did worry me that guys in doughboy biohazard suits, but by that point, Lucy was on her knees between my thighs, and I couldn't keep track as she suckled her way around my cock.

It had been glorious. I'd gone down on her and gotten her quivering and dripping before I flipped her over and took her prone with a hard slap to her ass, pushing in deep and making her wail in lust as I pounded into her. Eventually, I turned her over, flipping her legs onto my shoulders. Her dark almond-shaped eyes wisened from the pressure as I pushed into her, making her pant and shake. I'd pulled back when she couldn't take it, working it deeper, holding her legs tight over my biceps so she felt every millimetre.

I roared into her mouth as she came in a crashing explosion of pussy juice that spread up my belly, and I bred her, balls deep, my cum pulsing as I shoved it deep. Lucy's face twisted with sudden pain that gave way to more orgasmic quaking as I smashed her cervix, and emptied myself into her womb as I ground my cockhead into the tight ring.

Afterwards we'd lay in bed, the news in the background going on about people fleeing Cuba to Miami in record numbers, tales of a killer flu and riots. Lucy was catatonic, legs spread still from where they'd fallen when I got off of her, her pussy gently gurgling occasionally as my load worked its way out in a thick, pearly, stream. I looked over at her sweat-beaded body and smiled as she glanced at me with glazed eyes and a dopey smile.

"I am so fuckin' glad they make the pill whenever I fuck you," she mumbled.

*

On Monday morning I was sore from my fun with Lucy on Saturday, but feeling good. She was at that age where women start letting go of inhibitions and know a thing or two about their own bodies that leads to some incredible sex. She'd been sore, but when I slid into her during a shower late Sunday morning, she'd known it would be worth it. Before she left mid-afternoon, I'd gotten hard as we snuggled on the couch, and she'd been firm she couldn't go again, but finished the world class blowjob she'd been giving me at the bar the night before.

True to myself, I pumped that last load down her throat, and she swallowed every drop, cleaning me up after. She was a keeper, and I'd mentally begun trying to sort out how I'd be able to hang onto her without things getting too committed, when she patted my face.

"God, it's too bad you're not the kind of boy I can take home to daddy."

I laughed, "too old, too not an accountant, or too white?"

Annie smiled at me and pushed her belly against my cock, slowly stiffening in my jeans. "Oh hon, all of 'em, but mostly too much fucking Sharon at Bilby's, and at least another I hear of." Lucy slapped my face lightly. "I'll call when I need it."

And with that, she'd headed off.

With my weekend capped off perfectly, I'd gone to my folks for dinner where my mom doom clicked the tv news, flashing through channel after channel of increasingly histrionic news about whatever was going on, creeping north from South America. The theory today was that it was in Russia too, as communication had begun to get spotty, and the country seemed to have closed its border overnight with no warning as to why. She'd coughed and complained of a cold going around.

My dad waved her off and we had a nice meal. Things had been strained for a long time. I had joined up under a cloud of disapproval, but they'd slowly come around as I neared thirty and was getting bars on my uniform. Now that I was out and working in a job, they seemed happy. Mom wasn't scared about knocks on the door at least. They didn't need to know the details of getting those bars.

Work on Monday was fairly normal. People chatted and gossiped and somehow got tasks done at our office of fifty at Spadina and King. I was talking through some troubleshooting with my team around 11 when Allie sidled up to me.

"We still good for dinner tonight," she asked with her lightly clipped Russian accent, "Cal, Katy wanted me to get you to look at her solar system for science class."

Allie, short for Alevtina, was my best friend, and a survivor of an abusive marriage. I'd met her in one of my off-base courses five years earlier just before I left the military. She'd been teaching it at nights, putting her PHd to good use as she struck out on her own with her little girls who was now almost ten.

We'd become fast friends, and I'd, of course, hoped to get her into bed, but I found out quickly she was gay and backed off. It was a shame for me, her big grey eyes batted out from under dark eyelashes framing her heart-shaped face, small chin and prominent cheekbones with a light brown body. Allie had taken care of herself. At five eight, she had an athletic body with the only hint of her pregnancy being a solid ass that was mouth-watering. Her tight torso was firmed from yoga, and a pair of C cups were always chastly hidden in sweaters. When I'd reached out to her looking for any work opportunities after I left the service, she'd recommended me for this job, and that was when we really became close.

We constantly had to explain our close friendship, and it was helpful that she was very open about dating women. Even still, my mom was constantly asking how we'd never gotten together, and I'd explain, and she'd shake her head and tell me that Allie clearly had feelings for at least one man.

My team laughed as Allie and I did our Mr. and Mrs. Smith act. Most people assumed we were dating, or once they saw Katy, short for Katerina, the spitting image of her mother, they assumed we were close co-parents. Most days other people explained the reality now, and it was kind of an open joke at work that we were the office married couple for newbies.

In all honesty, if ever I'd met a woman who could have locked me down, it would have been Allie. Even more though, I adored Katy, too. She was the best kid. I loved her as much as my nephew, Bailey. She loved math, and was so much a mini-Allie, but also her own person, just a great bright, funny kid. I hung out with them at least one evening a week. They'd joined my family for Christmas dinner, and even come to the cottage the past summer, which was when my mother got obsessed with Allie.

I had managed to keep attraction to Allie in check for almost two years by that point, until one day when my brother, Gil, and his wife, Hannah, had been down from Ottawa for the day, I took Katy and Bailey out on paddle boards, enjoying the waves at the edge of the small island that faced the open water of the lake. Bailey was a year younger than Katy, and they'd played and splashed, having a great time with good ol' Uncle Cal while their parents chatted sitting on the dock.

Allie had worn a black one piece that was open through her cleavage, and then high on her hips, showing off the side of her tight belly and strong core that she'd earned at yoga and regular exercise, and it was cut high on her hips. From the water, I could see that it was highlighting that sexy apple bottom of hers, and her gorgeous breasts. Always aware of accidentally creeping my close friend, and what it might do in a friendship with a woman that had been with a violent piece of shit during her marriage, I'd always policed myself carefully with her, avoiding getting a look at her cleavage no matter how desperately I wanted to.

Eventually, the kids were getting burned (Bailey with his pale Scots skin like mine), or just tired (Katy, with her errantly tan olive skin in inherited from her dad), and we swam in to happy parents to see their kids so knocked out. Allie had gotten up to greet Katy, and I saw how high the one-piece was cut on her hips, a narrow strip down her pubis that betrayed her wax job, made my mouth water.

An image flashed in my mind, clear as day, of Allie on her back in the surf, legs hooked over my elbows and spread wide, writhing and moaning loudly as I pushed aside the thin gusset of her suit to slowly drill her inch by excruciatingly ecstatic inch. Bottoming out in her, she gave me a show staring at me from under her beach hat's rim as she arched her back and pulled her suit back to display pillowy breasts that she begged me to suck. I withdrew myself to my purple cockhead, luxuriating in the sensation of her stretched pussy lips dragging themselves along my shaft, before drilling all the way back to her hips to more moans and made her mine.

I'd shaken my head to clear it, playing it off as a sneeze from the sun, but my sister in law had seen it, and Hannah locked eyes with me and arched an eyebrow.

Later, after I'd taken Allie and Katy back to their car for the long drive back to the city, Hannah sidled over to me.

"So Allie is awesome."

Knowing what was coming, I'd kept my nose in a book and shrugged, "yeah, she's pretty great. Katy too." Hannah nodded.

"You sure she's gay?"

It was my turn to nod.

"You can confirm to Mom that, yes, Allie is gay."

Hannah shrugged back, "have you ever asked her? Or she ever said clearly?"

Exasperated, I ran a hand down my face, "she's only dated women the whole time I've known her, and I've met them. Her bookshelves are filled with sapphic literature. I've been with her when she casually mentions that she's queer."

Hannah put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed tightly, "queer and gay aren't the same thing, Calvin."

I sighed and waved her off, "I get it, but I'm not going to push it and risk a really great friendship with someone who's had such a bad experience with men."

Hannah begged back, raising her hands in surrender, "okay I'm sorry, I just..."

"What, Hannah," I snapped, "what could possibly be a good enough reason to keep on with this?

She leaned into me, her pretty, freckled blonde face and blue eyes fixing me in her stare, "well, I'll tell you this big brother-in-law, as a thirty-something with a kid, I'd only wear a swimsuit like that if I wanted your brother to fuck me blind."

Her brutal, explicit honesty made me laugh, and I finally turned back to her.

"I'm so glad my brother found someone just as horny and nerdy as him."

So there I was at work, with my best friend and office wife, talking about dinner plans to work on her kids science project while my new hire turned to my team lead, a lovely, if not hilariously goofy fan of rom coms, and tried to point subtly at Allie and I. Tracy shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"We've got the managers meeting in ten," Allie said, launching herself into a skip to the bathroom, and calling "don't be late again" over her shoulder at me.

The meeting was worrying.

Our CEO was talking about work-from-home plans in case the situation down south made its way to Toronto. We'd all gotten to know this far too well during COVID, but nobody, even the biggest homebodies who'd fought our three-day return to office tooth and nail wanted a full return to the COVID life. Allie and I looked at each other and grimaced.

That night, I ended up heading home to grab a few things to help Katy with her project. I'd enjoyed building models my whole life, and I had a lot of handy bits and bobs that a kid like her adored. She'd built most of it at my apartment where I had a worktable. Having collected my tools, I tossed them in a backpack, and caught the bus to Allie's.

I lived in the west end in the Junction, a neighborhood that had been a mess when I was a kid, but was now gentrified into a stroller and dog heaven for the millennials that filled it. Meanwhile, Allie and Katy lived in a townhouse in Cedarvale, a decent bus ride and walk.

I got there to find Katy nowhere to be seen.

"She's at a friend's house for dinner," Allie told me when I asked, leaving me to close the door behind me. I'd been there so often, she usually just left it unlocked when she knew I was on the way. She'd changed since work, and it looked like she'd spent a little time on makeup. I knew she wore some, but I'd never known her to put on any more than a little eyeliner and lipstick.

"Someone special coming," I asked, feeling self-conscious having only quickly changed my shirt and done a quick pits and bits wash to protect against man stink, "it looks like you're getting ready for a party."

Allie had raced to the kitchen and was clattering around, popping her head around the corner of the kitchen wall and smiling that brilliant smile with her pert lips, "yes. You. I thought it'd be nice since I'm kid less tonight. Wine?"

Allie rarely drank, so I was surprised to see the bottle of red in her hand.

"Sure," I replied.

It was a wonderful meal, Allie was a great we chatted away about work and life, we debated a book for a while, and it was wonderful. Without Katy there, though, there was a tension that made me think of that high-hipped bathing suit with the open sides.

Allie was nervous about something, which only contributed to her beauty, as I watched those pretty eyes look at me, darting away, back, away, over and over. The bottle of wine had turned into two, and in all honesty, the balance had gone to her. After a glass each of bottle two, we sat on her back deck, laughing at some work thing, and I couldn't take it anymore. Allie was wearing a light knit sweater and tight jeans, but there was enough of a gap between them that I caught sight of her taught tummy often, and the sweater seemed like it was painted onto her breasts. She was nervous, sitting sideways in the deck chair next to me. She squoze her arms in front of her, pressing her tits at me. That fantasy kept surging back at me.