The usual disclaimers apply. Don't read this if you are offended by material of a homosexual nature.
This work depicts adult males in sexual situations with underage males. If this offends you do not read this story. All events depicted in this story is purely of a fictional nature and any resemblance to people living or dead is coincidence. If you enjoyed this story, please feel free to send me a message at firstname.lastname@example.org
As promised, here is the continuing tale of two lone survivors of the devastating Hyperflu......
Lone Wanderer, Empty World
The snowball impacted the back of my head, blowing apart as it struck, sending icy rivulets of slush water streaming down my neck. I blinked away my daze and launched a retaliatory volley of ice at Dan, who narrowly avoided the ball of frozen water.
'Ow, not the face!' I squealed as Dan lobbed another in my direction. He laughed and bent down to scoop another handful of snow. I dashed behind a tree, spindly and fragile looking now it had been denuded of its leaves.
'Coward!' Dan shouted, stalking me among the wiry, snow blanketed vegetation.
'Come on, we've got a job to do' I insisted, secretly gathering my own little mound of snow.
'You're just scared' he said, pelting me now my cover was blown. He was panting, so was I, our breath streaming out in thick, steamy clouds. It was a perverse feeling, being so hot under the collar when all around it was minus eight degrees.
'Tired kid?' I taunted. He smiled wickedly and threw his last remaining snowball, shattering harmlessly against the tree. He collapsed in the snow, working his arms and legs, carving out a snow angel. I joined him, revelling in the carelessness of wintry play. I laid there, looking over at the boy in the Cossack hat, scarf, heavy coat and snow boots. Even bundled up as he was, he was still very much the most gorgeous boy to have ever existed. I rolled over and crawled over to him, placing myself over the top of him. We kissed, our lips fiercely warm against the all penetrating cold.
'Let's get it done and then we can make a snowman' I said, pulling Dan up from the snow angel mess.
'It most certainly is' I joked, poorly.
'Whatever kid, let's get the shovels' I said, walking back towards the house to the spades to crack the ice around the hydro generator. The river had frozen over yesterday, locking out our main source for night time electricity.
Dan and I worked gently around the generator. I ventured cautiously out on the narrow ledge that extended out across the small river and slowly chipped away at the thick icy crust. I told Dan to stay safely near the bank and work along there. It took ten minutes of bashing, crashing and smashing to dislodge a significant portion of ice. The water flowed sluggishly under the ice cover but I could see the ice would merely reform within a few hours. Exhausted with the futile exercise, I instead emptied a dozen containers of table salt over the remaining ice, hoping it would help to soften it up sufficiently to break up by itself.
We put down the spades and paced back to the house, ice crunching deliciously underfoot. I checked in on the petrol fuelled generator while Dan opened the door into the warm interior. We had plenty of fuel. I'd found a water dispenser servicing van in the town a month earlier, complete with several dozen big empty bottles. It had been a simple matter to siphon fuel from a petrol station, sealing the necks with heavy duct tape. The bottles sat out in the snow, a safe distance from the house, still liquid in the sub-zero temperatures due to the petrols extremely low freezing point. I was more concerned with over-taxing the generator, so it was kept idle during the day, running just enough to stop its parts from seizing up. The wind generator kept us warm during the day, taking over the job of heating water from the snow covered solar cells.
Satisfied that the generator was functioning as expected, I joined Dan for a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
I sat before the crackling fire, mug in hand as my body slowly warmed back up. Dan was toasting the home made bread, skewered through the middle with a poker. He spread long life jam over it, sparing the rather unpleasant long-life butter analogue I had plundered from the last big supplies run.
We were well stocked now, with enough food, drink, medicine and clothing to keep us going until spring. The Land Rover was spacious enough but not practical for stocking up. I had put the water dispenser van to good use, making seven round trips with it full to capacity. The four first floor bedrooms were now crammed with goods, the kitchen too was well stocked, cupboards full, cans and packets and jars lining the top of the wall units as well.
It was mid-November, the 17th to be precise. The snow had come down three days ago. I had awoken, stretching and yawning and looked out the window, almost collapsing as I looked upon the white blanketed landscape. Being so close to the sea, with the salty air, I had not anticipated much snow, if at all. However, humanity had been gone for over a year, the main carbon dioxide producing activities vanishing months before that even. With those heavy industries, power plants and cars no longer active, the real bitter winter weather had returned to the British Isles with a vengeance.
Dan finished his toast and laid his head down on my lap, looking up at me with his sparkly green eyes. I smiled lovingly and put aside my empty mug, running my warmed fingers through his sandy hair. We were lone survivors, surrounded by a cold, empty planet but the warmth of our love was greater than the crackling wood fire, enough to sustain us through the hardest of trials and storms. We had found each other in the darkest of times and brought light into one another’s lives.
'Love you' he whispered.
'Love you' I said, descending to kiss his beautiful, full lips.
The snow was still on the ground as December crept around. Luckily enough, the petrol generator was still in good shape and the fuel supply was in no danger of running out any time soon. Still though, I was restless. All those months of being on the road, rarely staying in one place for more than a day or two. It just felt strange to be so suddenly rooted to the spot. I paced restlessly around the master bedroom, hearing the sounds of battle coming up through the floor (Dan had carved out a space in the boys room and was playing with the PS3).
The wine was cool as it hit my mouth but turned into a distant warm fuzziness as it hit my stomach and spread throughout my body. I'd worked my way halfway through the bottle and felt a little more relaxed. Being cooped up for so long was starting to send me stir crazy.
As I mulled over a lone trip to town in the near future, I heard the unmistakable commotion Dan made as he walked up the bare wooden stairs. He came in and threw himself down on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it aside. I pretended not to notice him.
It had begun nearly a month ago. Dan's teenage hormones were starting to go into overdrive. It was amazing at first, fucking four or five times a day but soon he started to wear me out, my twenty six years of stamina unable to match the ferocity of a horny thirteen year old. I turned from the window slightly, catching him in the corner of my eye. He was rubbing his dick through his jeans, roughly groping himself over the denim.
I maintained my position, watching as he unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down his waist, along with his briefs. His teenage cock was free, poking up from his belly at an acute angle, throbbing angrily. I deigned to acknowledge him and he locked eyes with me. He started wanking, furiously working his shaft and head with the finesse of a typical hormone-driven teen.
Feeling horny at the sight of the beautiful teen boy god working his magic on himself, I put down the empty glass and laid down on the bed next to him. He stopped touching himself, thinking I was going to take over.
'No, don't stop Dan. I really want to watch you cum by yourself. It's hot' I whispered. He got back to work, stroking his balls with one hand as he concentrated on the head with another. It didn't take long before he was arching his back, his toes curling as he unleashed a small torrent of teen spunk all over his belly and neck. He kept up the strumming as his cock released every last dribble of young semen. He let go of his cock and laid back, looking at me with the face of pure bliss. I swiped a finger across his tight belly and scooped some of his cooling jizz into my mouth. The taste of him was always electric, more so when he was watching me as I tasted him. My own cock was throbbing for release. I stood up, stripping off everything I was wearing, feeling the cooler air near the windows nip at my bare arse. I laid back down on the bed, close enough to Dan that our bodies were touching and started wanking myself. He watched me with fascination, looking down at my cock as I pulled my skin over and back, running my fingers along my balls and up my shaft. When I felt the orgasm building in the base of my cock, rolled onto my side and showered Dan's body in my hot, thick spunk. As I grew soft, Dan copied me and picked up a large glob of my cum and licked it from his fingers, taking a small part of myself into him.
We cleaned ourselves up with a towel and Dan threw his arm over me, gently teasing my nipple as we laid there. I pulled the covers up to keep out the cold and we snuggled closer together. We kissed and cuddled, whispering declarations of love and lust in the still, early evening darkness.
Two days later, I was crawling along the roads at a mere ten miles per hour. The Land Rover was built for this sort of thing but I still chose to err on the side of caution. Fresh layers of snow crunched and compacted under the tyres, the latest storm depositing another five centimetres of fluffy white ice on top of the thirty centimetres we already had. Usually, there would be tyre marks, footprints, gritting lorries but the vista of white was undisturbed now that humanity had vanished. Whiteness blanketed the distant countryside; old cottages, tractors, abandoned cars and trees, all rounded off by the gently settling snow.
The snow thinned out closer to the town and thus the coastline. It had turned into a sludgy dark mess that occasionally caused me to lose control of the car but with care, I was able to drive more or less normally. Closer to the salty air, the ice broke down at lower temperatures and out on the promenade road, the surfaces were merely wet.
I stopped the car and got out, pulling on my gloves and tightening my scarf. It was still below zero, but not as bad as it had been two days ago. The wreck of a naval frigate had come to rest on the beach. It was still afloat but the bridge and helicopter pad were just blackened craters. The tides must have finally brought it to rest in the wide cove. Somehow I didn't feel as disturbed by the sight of dead ships now. Perhaps it was because the cold corpses of the vessels had seemed so out of place during the hot summers sun that they seemed more upsetting. In the cold and dark of winter, they were a more fitting epitaph for man.
I walked along the parade of shops and hotels, revelling in the peace and solitude. It wasn't that I was glad to be away from Dan, far from it but I needed the isolation sometimes, to reflect on my own life and the enormity of change that had swept the world. Living in our comfortable house, it had been easy to forget about the desolation beyond the trees.
A smashed in shop window afforded me little interest. I scouted around a hotel but it had evidently been seeing reduced business during the plague crisis and was empty of anything worth looting. I tried a few more shops with nothing out of the ordinary and snatched a bottle of sour apple liqueur from a bar. That would make a nice appletini come Christmas.
I took the car back out of town, towards the suburbs. Thinking about Christmas had made me realise that in all the searching and preparing I had done in the house, I'd not come across a single decoration or Christmas tree. I'd been an atheist for as long as I could remember but the spirit of the festive season was not lost on me, and I intended for Dan to have a very merry time this year.
Pulling into a frosted cul-de-sac, I stopped the car and tried a house. It was semi-detached, seventies designed, wide windows and sour yellow bricks. I kicked the front door in and wandered inside. It was almost as cold inside as out, though at least I was out of the biting breeze. The downstairs had nothing of value and upstairs only one bedroom had been in use. I took a broom handle and poked at the attic cover on the landing. It moved aside and fell down but it had no attached ladder. I considered looking through the shed at the bottom of the garden but I decided in the end to check a few more homes first.
After skimming through two more houses and coming across similar attic doors, I tried another home, this one a much later addition to the road, probably built sometime in the mid 2000s. The door was tough, reinforced somewhere, so I had to sneak around the back, smashing a pane in a pair of French doors and letting myself in.
My breath came out in billowing clouds of steam. I rubbed my gloved hands together and started sorting through the downstairs. The living room had a wood-burning fireplace with plenty of wood already stacked up. I took my lighter and coaxed a fire into life, removing my gloves and warming my near-frozen digits by the flames. While I checked around the kitchen, the fire slowly began to warm the house.
I went upstairs and found the access to the attic. A small chord hung from the door and I reached up and tugged it down. The door swung down slowly, releasing a ladder that unfolded gently until it reached the floor. I climbed cautiously, clicking on a wind-up torch to illuminate the dark attic space.
Floorboards had been laid, which allowed me to move around easier while I searched. There were dozens of boxes of all sizes. I opened a few randomly, greeted with old keepsakes, photo albums and ancient clothing. I eventually found Christmas decorations, six big boxes containing: fairy lights, paper chains, tree ornaments, various glittery plastic wall hung garlands, miniature Christmas trees and a carton of unopened crackers. The boxes were light enough and I gently carried them down the ladder, all the way down to the front door. I went back up to find a tree. I opened a tall, oblong box and saw artificial pine needles with little light bulbs peaking out. Pleased, I resealed the box as best I could and slipped it downstairs with the rest of the stuff.
I rested for five minutes by the fire, sitting cross-legged before the crackling and hissing wood. For a modern property, the house was quite attractive. It had been given a mock period interior décor, with cornicing and coving in the style of a Victorian house. Even the fireplace appeared to be a reclaimed piece.
Feeling warmed, I went back upstairs and investigated the four bedrooms. The main room was that of middle-aged parents, another belonged to a young girl, the third was half the size of the parents room and had evidently been a boys room. The fourth bedroom was box sized and was currently occupied by a desk and a desktop computer.
I went into the boys room and looked around. He was obviously a fan of Chelsea FC, his walls plastered with posters, club scarves and league charts. On a table beside the bed was a framed photograph of the boy with an older man, probably the father, at a football match. The lad was about fourteen years old, with ginger hair, freckles and dark blue eyes. He was slim and athletic looking, with a dazzling cheeky smile. I put the photo back down and rummaged through the room, on the hunt as always, for something of erotic interest.
He had a laptop sitting on a small desk next to a pine tallboy. I pulled out the office chair and sat down, opening up the laptop lid. I pressed the power button and nothing happened. With the cold, any energy left in the battery had finally been leached away. I opened the drawers on his desk and rooted around, finding a couple of USB drives and DVDs labelled as games. They were not concealed, so I was sure they were not of any use to me. I opened the tallboy, going all through it and the drawers, paying special attention to his cartoon patterned boxer trunks. Again, nothing there.
I threw myself down on his bed, putting myself in his place and thinking of where I would hide something I would rather not be found. I rolled off and started pulling stuff from under the bed. He had been a messy boy; old coke cans and crisp packets came out by the dozen, school work in folders and game disk boxes. I put my hands on fabric and pulled out a pair of his boxers. I examined the outside. They were dusty, so I shook them. I turned them inside out and brought the crotch up to my nose. Jackpot! They smelled faintly of piss and boy juices. The scent was very weak but it was enough to make my cock engorge at the hint of it, even in the still frigid air. I got back onto the bed and released my dick, stroking myself off as I inhaled the scent of the hot young boy.
There was a small, nineteen inch TV mounted on the wall beside the bed, which I knocked as I brought my knees up to shrug off my jeans. As I bumped it, something rattled and fell down, landing on my belly. It was cold and made me wince at the contact. I let go of my throbbing dick and picked it up. Another USB drive, this time, hidden carefully behind the TV. It had been lodged in the wall bracket, safe from all but the most professional of prying eyes.
I went back downstairs, carrying my jeans and underwear, his trunk boxers and the USB drive. I opened my small satchel bag that I carried everywhere with me when I went out and removed the netbook.
When Dan and I had raided the supermarket to stock up for winter, we had also stocked up on any tech that might be of use. I'd picked up the little mini laptop, knowing it might come in use in situations such as this. It lacked a DVD drive, so I was grateful that the boy had put whatever secret material he had on a USB drive.
I turned the netbook on and waited for it to boot. It was fully charged and had ten hours of power left in it. Plenty of time to have a little fun. When it was ready, I inserted the drive into a free port and opened it up. To my dismay, I was greeted with a password prompt.
'Shit! Fuck, what could it be? Oh!' I muttered, typing Chelsea into the box. I pressed enter but the prompt popped back up again. 'Damn!' I racked my brains trying to remember the names of the Chelsea players, even though I had never been a big fan of football. I tried Cole, Terry, Ramires, Drogba but kept getting the password prompt. At last, I entered Lampard and was allowed entry. I sighed relief.
This kid hadn't even bothered with screening the folders. He just had one folder labelled New folder. I opened it. Inside was two further folders, one for pictures, one for videos. I tried the picture folder first. They were all self-pics, the boy was taking pictures with his phone, standing in front of the mirror bolted onto the inside of one of the tallboy doors. Over the course of twenty or so snaps, he had gone from fully clothed to naked, his boyhood cock standing up proudly in the mirror. He was about five inches uncut, a thick patch of red pubes dusting his crotch, his balls with just a dusting of the red hair. I sat in front of the fire and wanked myself off.
I went back and tried the videos folder. There were two of them where he was wanking, lying on his bed, with the camera propped up on the bedside table, recording his sexual exploits. He worked his young dick with expert attention, pulling his skin all the way back before sliding it up to envelop his head once more. It was hot but I moved on to another file. When it opened, it was clearly not of the boys making. A much younger boy, perhaps ten or eleven was near the camera, idly looking at something on a screen out of shot. He was talking in what sounded like Russian or another Eastern European dialect. He moved back, showing that he was completely naked. While not fat or chubby, he had a certain amount of puppy fat, with short cropped hair, pale skin and reddish cheeks. Someone moved around behind the boy and sat down on what looked like a bed. The young boy rearranged the camera, settling on the form of an older boy lying on the bed. He looked to be between the age of fifteen and seventeen. He had a fairly hairy body, a thick patch of pubic hair, slender pale body and his hard dick looked to be about six inches long. The younger boy joined him on the bed. They looked very similar despite the age gap, probably brothers. The older boy grabbed the younger boys now hardening dick and started wanking him. While the younger boy was completely hairless down there, he was still hard and fairly thick and the look on his face said he was really enjoying his brothers touch.
While they proceeded to mutually masturbate each other, I could hear the moans of a woman over the video. The boys must have been watching porn. The older one released his brothers cock and went down on him, swallowing the younger boys penis, his face registering surprise and excitement. He sucked his little bro for five minutes before coming back up for air and putting his brothers hand back on his own dick. They laid like that again for a little while, just jacking each other off. Then the younger boy moved over and blew the older, struggling to fit half of his brothers hairy dick in his mouth. Nevertheless, he half sucked, half wanked him, the older hairy teen lying back and enjoying it all. I skipped ahead a little as they alternated between blowing each other. Twenty minutes in, the young boy was leaning in close to the camera as his big brother fucked him from behind, doggy style. The young boy looked like he was torn between confusion, fear, lust, excitement and fun as he was thrust forward by his brothers powerful hips. Feeling myself coming closer, I skipped towards the end. Now, the young boy was sitting on the side of the bed as the hairy teen face fucked him with increasing urgency. The humping increased in intensity until the young boy reached up and wanked his brother to completion, hot spunk raining down on his flushed face as the spent, bucking teen unloaded every last drop of jizz onto his young brother. I came, covering my belly and right hand in spunk that steamed ever so slightly in the chill afternoon air.
After I'd cleaned myself off using the boys boxer trunks, I carried the tree and the boxes of decorations out to the car, folding down the back seats to get everything in. I went back for my satchel, slipping the netbook back in, along with the captured USB drive. Satisfied I had all I came for, I extinguished the fire, returning the house to its frigid winter and drove back home.
As I approached the house on the long driveway, I noticed two figures standing around by the front door. One was standing resolutely still, while the other was scooping up ice. I smiled at Dan as he patted more snow onto his growing snowman.
'Well that looks great' I smiled, patting myself against the cold 'aren't you freezing?' I asked.
'Nope, too busy' he said, panting as he finished his creation. It was a good five feet tall, three roughly rounded sections comprising the bulk of the body. Dan had found some branches and used them as arms, with two stones for eyes, an orange wrapper covered chocolate bar for a nose and a series of smaller stones representing a smiling mouth. As I walked around to the front of the snowman, I noticed the compacted cylinder of ice sticking out of the top of the bottom section.
'It's supposed to be you, ya know with the big dick' he smiled, despite the biting cold.
'OK then, now we need to build you' I said, mashing snow together into a small ball and rolling it around on the ground, very quickly assembling a large base.
Within half an hour, working together, we had made the snowDan, topped off with its own icy cock, smaller than the snowKristian's of course.
Panting, we went inside, feeling as though the warmth were melting our snowy bodies. I made us hot chocolate and we sat in the living room, admiring the snowy simulacrum from the cosy confines of our perfect home.