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 have enjoyed my story you can contact me at I appreciate all feedback and am happy to talk my stories over.

Lone Wanderer, Empty World

Part Three

I awoke later than usual, having forgot to set an alarm the night before. I was covered in my dry cum under cover in Luke's bed. I stirred, feeling a little sexy but resisted the urge to have a wank. I lay there, relishing the silence and the warm pocket of the bed against the cool morning air. It was Sunday after all, so today I was going to take my time.

An hour or so after waking, I got washed using what water I found in the house, having to resort to the gas primer stove for heating it up. I skipped breakfast and instead had a good rummage through the house. In my haste to locate a suitable hotbed of teen horniness, I had overlooked most of it. I needn't have bothered. There was nothing worth taking. I left my used clothes in the bedroom and pocketed the wadded tissue paper I found down beside Luke's bed. I was building quite a collection of erotic loot.


I wore a pink open shirt over a white tank top, blue jeans and white trainers. All courtesy of the bland supermarket from the day before. I even donned the sunglasses as I rode out, back onto open road, ever further north. I checked myself out in the rear-view mirror. Hot.

The day felt warmer than the one before, summer was at last breaking through the mild spring. May would soon give way to June. I didn't even want to consider what a cold and lonely winter lay ahead of me. It had been bad enough last winter, living in close proximity to the last of the dying but miserable company had still been company. If I found no one soon, I would be all alone this Christmas. Pushing those thoughts aside, I plugged my iPod into the car stereo and blasted summer jams as loud as it would go.

It felt so good to be outside doing ninety (on the clear stretches), with nothing to hold me down, I suddenly realised that there were no rules any more. I could drive naked if I wanted to, I could scream obscenities at the top of my voice. For the first time, I lowered the sun roof and let the rushing air buffet my hair. I was alive.


The car started stalling as I was coming up on Birmingham. I'm such a gay man when it comes to cars; I had no idea what was wrong. I still had a quarter of a tank left and none of the indicators were flashing warnings. Something had clearly broken but I didn't know what. Thankfully it lasted long enough to get me onto the outskirts of the city.

I pulled over and turned off the ignition and tried to restart the engine. It sputtered and died. 'Well, so much for that'. I'd gotten used to the car and the thought of now having to switch to using another upset me, not least because the only way of picking another up on the motorway would be to remove a body or bodies if I wanted to get the keys at the same time. Instead I picked up my backpack with the essentials, the sword and the map and committing the cars location to memory, vowed to return for the rest of the stuff later with my new ride.

So I walked up the lonely M40 until I started seeing the encroaching suburbs. I checked my watch, it was a quarter to three, I'd been walking for two hours but I honestly didn't mind. A good walk felt great and I didn't feel too vulnerable with the sword on my back. My face was tingling in the sun and I felt better, having shrugged off the worry of the car.

I found myself in a middle class street, semis and detached, long drives and front gardens. I half-heartedly checked a few of the bigger places, noting that they didn't seem like family homes. I put my perpetual horniness aside and focused on the task at hand.

A few opportunities presented themselves; there were five cars left on drives on this part of the street and I had my eye on a black Audi TT RS. Not a practical vehicle, I know, but it was damned fine-looking. I scoped around the house a bit and decided to hop the gate to find an easier way in. The back door was unlocked, so I just strolled in.

I wandered through the kitchen, smelling something faintly unsettling. I knew from the smell that there were dead in the house. Probably upstairs. I decided not to linger and after a bit of snooping, found the keys in a small side cabinet draw. I went out the front, thanking the owners and hoping that they hadn't lingered.


Within half an hour I had loaded up the new car with everything from the off-roader. I no longer needed a four wheel drive, as the congestion of dead cars further north wasn't so bad as it was in the capital. Having secured myself a new vehicle, I thought about scouting around the area a little more; perhaps I would find something to amuse myself.

I left the city proper and took a slow drive to the nearby town of Sutton Coldfield, getting a feel for the vehicle as I did so. It handled as well as the G-class, though its capacity for supplies was limited.

The town was mostly suburban sprawl, outer lying sixties box houses, with older thirties terraced and Victorian cottages towards the centre. It was getting on for five PM, so I started looking for a house for the night. Nothing immediately sprang to notice but after twenty or so minutes of driving up and down streets, I came upon a relatively recent housing development. They looked to be executive properties. Five houses, all big, detached, peppered here and there with young trees no more than four years old, arranged in a semicircle on their own cul-de-sac. Three of the properties had been gutted by fire.

I parked up outside the nearest house, one of the two still intact. The door was wide open, so I approached with all due caution. Before I even stepped over the threshold, I could smell decay, so I backed off and walked next door to the other unburned house.

This one was locked up tight. A good sign that the owners had fled but were making sure their home wouldn't be looted before they came home. They hadn't thought to lock the back gate, which opened easily enough. The garden was small, devoid of mature trees and shrubs, the turfed lawn had grown wild. A large conservatory was attached to the back, blinds drawn, I was unable to get a good look inside. The conservatory's French doors were locked too, as was the back door. I was about to put a garden pot through the window when I saw that the kitchen window was open on a hairline crack. I wedged the sword in there and prized it open. Wide enough, I pulled up a garden bench and climbed into the kitchen.

It was cool inside, musty, stale but I could smell nothing bad. I set about opening the blinds around the downstairs so I could see a little better.

The house was filled with good furniture. The conservatory had an expensive brand of wicker cane sofas and was decorated with beautiful Moroccan lamps and dead plants which would once have glowed radiantly on a warm summers day. I would come back later and light some candles and sit in that room later and try to feel like everything was good again.

There was little of interest on the ground floor. A few canned goods, this family had evidently preferred to eat fresh foods which were now just sludge in the bottom of the fridge. I checked out the upstairs. Four bedrooms. The master room had an en-suite bathroom, there were two girly rooms and the fourth had been used as a home office. I felt disappointed at the lack of boy evidence, so I decided to take the master room for tonight.


When it was getting on for seven o'clock, I went up to the linen closet to see how much water had been left in the hot tank. Most modern tanks had a release valve towards the bottom at the front to allow it to be drained for maintenance. It was high enough to place a big pot under, so I drained off what I could, to heat for a shallow bath.

As I was fumbling around, trying to release a second valve around the back to get the water flowing faster, my hands brushed against something cold. I picked it up and brought it out. It was a hard drive. One of the compact laptop drives mounted in a plastic caddy with a USB cable for connection and power. 'Now, why would someone hide this here?' I wondered aloud.

I had taken the laptop from the boys house, the battery still had around thirty minutes of juice left after my extremely horny wanking sessions. I hadn't found a laptop in this house, so I retrieved the boys one from the car and brought it back inside with me.

I sat down on the bed in the master room and plugged in the drive as soon as the laptop had booted. The hard drive was recognised and the computer installed it, my anticipation for whatever dirty little secrets it contained making me hard, my erection throbbing in my pants. I opened it up as soon as I could, delving into an unnamed folder. A window popped up requesting a password. 'Shit' I spat through clenched teeth. I quickly put the laptop into hibernation while I considered my options. This was one careful bastard. 'What could it be?' I asked aloud as I searched through bedside cabinets, chest of draws and a cupboard of documents downstairs.

I learned that the family was called the Baxters. The father, Jeremy (pretty hot, in his late thirties maybe), wife Ann and daughters Chloe and Jessica. I tried all their names and still no luck. I tried every easy password I could think of and nothing got me through. The pop-up said it wanted a five character passkey. Chloe wasn't it.

Giving up, I put everything aside for now and continued with the water gathering. It took almost an hour to get enough water warm to wash myself in. A bath was something I could not do without, a comfort that the Collapse would never make me part with.

As I laid there, staring out of the window at the setting sun, I thought about how I almost missed the hard drive under that valve. I could easily not have brushed against it. It was only because I needed to get to the valve. 'Valve. That's five characters'. I dared hope enough that I towelled myself off and went naked, to the bedroom.

When the pop-up asked me for the password, I entered 'valve' and amazingly I gained access.

This wasn't an orderly collection; pictures and videos were all mixed into one big file, a few hundred items in all. I had hit the jackpot.

Looked like Jeremy enjoyed teen boys as much as I. I skimmed most of the pics, boys from nudist camps with big drooping cocks for their age. I found some more action oriented images, a young boy gripping an older teens rock hard dick and in a later image, the teen boy had wanked himself to orgasm, cum erupting into the younger boys mouth. I started wanking myself, enjoying the pervy satisfaction of my discovery. There was a small set of young teens 69ing outside in the sun but I headed straight for a video marked 'me+thai'.

The video opened on a low lit bedroom, looked like a hotel room. Jeremy was sitting on the bed, legs wide open, a fat eight inch cock glistening with pre-cum. His foreskin pulled all the way back. He was looking over at something out of view and said 'come and suck this huge dick boy'. A young boy, he looked Asian, possibly Taiwanese walked over to Jeremy. He was shirtless and appeared not the least bit nervous or scared. He obligingly climbed between Jeremy's legs and took his cock into his mouth. I couldn't see any of the action, I was about to swear, when the angle shifted. Someone had picked up the camera and was moving it to the side of the bed, where I could see Jeremy curling his toes and flexing his body as he looked down on the beautiful boy milking his big man willy. Jeremy had someone else with him. The boy deepthroated with ease, cupping the Jeremy's big hairy balls with one hand while he wank/sucked him with the other. I felt my orgasm building, it wouldn't take me long. The video was twenty seven minutes long, so I skipped parts. Ten minutes in, the boy's face was buried in the crotch of another man, he was white, much younger than Jeremy, maybe twenty two and in good shape. His cock was cut but the boy lapped on it with the same eagerness as he did Jeremy's. The camera had been zoomed out and was also taking in the sight of Jeremy ramming home his fat eight inch in the boys arse. He was gentle, loving almost but passionate in his working of the boys hole. He occasionally sniffed from a small bottle, I assumed poppers which he passed to his friend. This made him get hornier and more rapid with the pounding, fucking the little boy like a piston. I skipped five minutes towards the end, judging my orgasm to come in around then. Jeremy was holding the camera now, above the boys head as he sucked him. Jeremy had his other hand around his friends cock, stroking him closer and closer. When his friend was close to orgasm, he gently pulled his head off Jeremy's cock and placed him above his. The boy knew what to do. He sucked and tugged until Jeremy's friend started to breathe heavier, he spasmed and grabbed the boys head, forcing his cock all the way down and humped his face hard. When he was finished, he pulled out, spent cum dribbling out of the boys mouth. Before Jeremy himself came, he said something to the boy, I couldn't hear what, and the boy lay on the bed, his own penis visible for the first time. He looked to be no older than eleven but his cock looked more like one from a thirteen year old. It was hard, with long foreskin. Jeremy took hold of it and masturbated him for about thirty seconds. The boy curled his toes and screwed up his face as he dry came. Jeremy leant down and licked his small tight balls and took the whole of the small dick in his mouth as the boy gently humped him. After his orgasm, he got straight back to work on Jeremy, wanking him off, face close, as he looked up into the camera. I shot my load the same time as Jeremy. Mine landed all over the laptop keyboard, while Jeremy plastered the young boys face. The boy sucked Jeremy as his hardon subsided, cleaning up all the cum with his tongue. The video finished and the laptop battery finally died.


After I had bathed, properly this time, I tried, unsuccessfully, to coax the laptop back to life. But it was no use, the battery was finally depleted. I put the cum drizzled machine under the bed and hunted around in the bedroom, finding a pair of Jeremy, the boy lover's, pyjamas. I felt warm and comfy, no longer horny, though I would be come morning.

I found a nice bottle of rosé in the kitchen and enough candles to cast a soft, comforting glow in the conservatory. For the rest of the evening, I drank and relaxed, reading a book I picked up in the living room.

I felt sleepy around eleven, having downed the entire bottle of wine, so I climbed upstairs and fell into a deep dream filled sleep.


I was standing over the Thai boy, wanking myself off into his face as he licked at my balls. Jeremy was kneeling behind the boy, rimming him, tongue deep between his sweet hairless crack. The boy slipped his plump lips over the head of my bulbous cock, making me moan in sweet delight. Jeremy removed his tongue from the boy's hole and inserted his stiff dick. The boy's lips released my pumping manhood and gasped softly as he was entered by Jeremy.

Jeremy then picked the boy up and held him against a wall as he fucked him hard. I watched, masturbating myself. After a while, Jeremy withdrew his dick and left me and the boy alone. I went over to the boy, leaning down a little I kissed him full on his sensual lips, mingling the taste of mine and Jeremy's cock in his mouth. He smiled at me and I felt my dick grow bigger, more insistent. We went back to the bed and I lay propped up on the pillows. He lay across me, his head level with my groin, as he took one of my balls into his mouth, rolling it gently with his lips and tongue. While he did this, he wanked me off with one hand, exposing and hiding my dark purple cock head and making me thrash with delight.

I repositioned us so we could 69, my dick in his hot mouth, his in mine. He was soft but soon grew to around three inches as I played with his loose foreskin and tight, perfectly smooth ball sack. I licked and tugged and gently nibbled on his scrotum, responding to the minute shivers of excitement that coursed through his body.

I felt my orgasm growing so I pushed the boy on his back, putting his legs over my shoulders. I lubed my dick up with his spit and licked two fingers and lubed his hole, lingering inside him a little as I did so. Then, I began to push myself into him. My cock head strained against his anus and as he relaxed into it, I slipped in, the tightness of him was ecstatic. I inched my way in further, pain lanced across his face as he struggled with my seven and a half inches. Soon though, his pain was replaced by pure pleasure as I fucked him, slowly at first to build rhythm, then faster and faster. I was riding inside of him, he could feel me within himself and I looked deeply into his eyes and passionately kissed him, as deep as the fucking. I took his cock and wanked him off as I ploughed his tight hole. I saw the ecstasy in his face as his cock twitched, a small spurt of clear cum welling in my hand.

Before I blew, I withdrew, thrusting my cock down his throat and face fucked him, unleashing a torrent of salty white milk down his throat. I made him clean my cock with his tongue as he gently milked my cock for the last of my jizz. I then went down on him, cleaning up the last of his sweet boy cum, licking him clean.

We fell asleep, him curled up in my strong arms, soft cocks resting squeezed together.


I awoke, feeling the cold wet patch in the pyjama bottoms. The dream was already fading but I reached under the covers and into my pants, retrieving some of my salty man juice, licking it and imagining how the Thai boy felt as I force fed him my entire load. I fell back into sleep and dreamt of the boy impaling himself on my steely knob and bouncing around on top of me for hours and hours.


Morning came but the sky was dark with rain clouds. I warmed some water and washed away my wet dream, thinking still of the content of the hard drive. Another piece to add to my ever growing collection.

The rain came crashing down, deafening in it's assault. I had breakfast, brushed my teeth and tidied myself up and waited another hour or so for the rain to stop.

When I went out to the car, it was still drizzling but it was good enough to drive in. I brought the hard drive with me and added it to my other sexual trophies. I smiled as I pulled out of the cul-de-sac and headed out onto the M6, ever northwards.


I made a good distance before I stopped to refuel, taking the cannister I took from the offroader from the boot and filled up. There was a car nearby, so I carefully removed the keys from the ignition, daring not to breathe in the smell of death and opened the fuel cap. I siphoned off enough to keep me going another eighty or so miles.

As I poured in the petrol, I looked around. A road sign indicated Stoke-on-Trent was another fifteen miles distant. I could easily make that before evening, it was only past one in the afternoon now. I could see a retail park in the distance. I decided to check it out.


The retail park had the same dejected look the rest of the country had. Weeds growing between the pavements with reckless abandon, shopping trolleys left scattered, occasional cars littered the parking spaces.

There was a furniture shop, a DIY warehouse, a fast food outlet, another of the bland chain food stores and three chain clothes shops. None of these interested me (though I might return later for some more clothes), no, I only had my eyes on the computer store.


During the period of anarchy before the Collapse, people had looted the most stupid things. The shop was bare of all but the smallest and cheapest televisions. How had they carried out the fifty and sixty inch screens during the mayhem and violence? What possible use could they be in a dying civilisation? Still, they had been taken, not that I cared. I was not drawn here by the Freudian need to extend my penis (it was big enough for me already). I was here for more useful devices.

The shop was dark, the light from the big windows was mostly blocked by the security grates that had been drawn in a futile attempt to prevent the looters. It hadn't worked. Still though, I pushed on, with the wind up torch guiding me in my search.

Luckily, my eyesight has never been bad, so even in the poor light, I managed to spot the big sign 'Laptops and Accessories' hanging in one corner of the warehouse like room. I passed by the few remaining laptops that had been left after the choicest among them had been plundered and shone my light along the row of boxes stacked on the row behind.

I walked past carrying cases, picking one up and denuding it of its cardboard box, slinging the strap over my shoulder. I moved on, swinging the light over computer mice, keyboards, hard drives (of the kind Jeremy had favoured), printers, ink, paper before I finally came across what I was looking for.

There were five of them, stacked neatly. No one had bothered with them, having not considered the particular drawback of mains electricity loss to the operation of a computer.

The laptop solar chargers would be able to trickle charge my laptop battery in around six hours, which was pretty good considering they used only the sun as power. I picked up two of them, they had plastic carrying handles on the box which was very handy. I would keep one packed up as a space while the other would live in the laptop carry case and be used daily. I also swiped the largest capacity USB powered portable hard drive. When I got my laptop up and running again, I would make a backup of all my stuff and of the flash drive and the hard drive I had found at the houses. I couldn't stand the thought of losing any of that data.

I made my way back to the front of the shop. As I was approaching the hole in the security grate that the looters had made, I saw a brief flash of movement outside. I ducked down, putting down my stuff, removing the carry case and pulled the sword out of my backpack. I sneaked over to the over to the window, keeping low. A trolley came to a standstill near my car. It hadn't moved itself.

Quietly, I crept out of the shop, sword held before me. I didn't hear the sound of dogs but I knew they had become sneakier since their masters had died. They were no longer just for companionship, existing to bring joy and laughter with their careless antics. They were hunters now. I was the hunted.

I saw a crouching shape behind the car and I seized the opportunity to attack first, asserting myself to drive off the others. I leapt the bonnet of the car, sword drawn for the kill.

The boy jumped back with fear and fell backwards as I dropped my sword, unable to speak, unable to think, just look. He stared up at me with a mixture of bewilderment and terror and hope. He lay there, breathing heavily.

I reached out my hand to help him up. He took it.