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
Lone Wanderer, Empty World
My skin felt cold as I cracked an eyelid to peer out at the lightening dawn. The sun was only just beginning to rise. I pulled the covers back over the two of us and snuggled up closer to Dan's naked body. I soon warmed up again and fell back into a light sleep.
When I woke again, I heard a distant sound of water splashing. Dan was not beside me and I realised he had got up to pee. I watched him as he half sleep walked back to our roof-terrace love pad, limp dick swinging between his legs, and slipped back under the covers. He turned his back to me and pulled my warm arm over his cool body. We laid like that until the sun crept higher in the sky, warming away the chill morning air.
I must have dozed back off again, for I was awoke to a hot, wet tightness around my morning wood. I felt lips sliding back and forth on my cock head. I opened my eyes and saw a large vague shape under the duvet bobbing up and down. I smiled, it was hard not to, and allowed Dan to continue. I felt the spunk rising deep within me and I came in his mouth, feeling some of it dribble back down onto my balls. Evidently there was a bit too much for Dan to swallow. I felt his hands on my dick as he licked it clean, going down onto my freshly shaven balls to pick up what he'd let escape. He emerged from underneath, sliding out to come to a rest on top of me.
'Well, good morning to you too' I said, still groggy.
'You filled my mouth with cum' he observed. There was still a little on his lips. I drew him in close, lips and tongues meeting, tasting my own salty load in his mouth. He sat up, knees either side of me and started wanking his boyhood hardon over me. I reached up to take over but he gently pushed my hand back. He wanted to wank himself to completion over me. He inched forward a bit so I could at least lick his balls as he jerked and spasmed and blew his load into my open mouth. I swallowed greedily and licked his cock head clean, gently kissing him all the way down his shaft. Spent, he collapsed on top of me, hand tracing the contours of my body.
We didn't move on that day. The next three days were spent fucking and sucking. Occasionally I would steal away from Dan to consider our next move. Manchester had been a big disappointment. For some reason, I had expected to find immediate signs of other survivors, I don't know why. I felt let down and a little irritated at myself for getting my own hopes up. I pondered over the map, pulling up the GPS data on my iPod to confirm the next leg of our admittedly blind journey.
I could continue to take us north, all the way to Scotland. That didn't seem like a great idea. Why should there be survivors there and not here? It could take months to properly scour the country and what would I have found? Probably nothing. And there was the approaching winter to consider. It was coming up for mid-July, the sun had never been hotter. However, winter would soon be creeping back around once August had burned out. The thought of being trapped in the highlands during a snowstorm was enough to make me shiver in the blistering heat.
The tree sheltered me as I sat underneath it. I stretched my bare legs out into the long grass and let the sun sizzle them for a little while. Dan was across the garden, playing with a rusty swing ball set. I watched him, jumping back and forth, swinging at the tethered ball with a plastic bat. He was only wearing a pair of shorts; he had tanned nicely, his torso filling out as he proceeded further into puberty.
My attention wandered back to the map. We could go south-east into Wales but again, I didn't want to be too far north. The last winter was still a nightmarish memory of cold, white loneliness. I had no intention of repeating it this year.
With some resignation, I decided to head back down south. We could skim around the capital, look in vain for survivors but I was more interested in getting as far south as I could. The winter wouldn't be as bad and if we found a suitable place to stay, we could fix it up and stock up on food and supplies and sit the winter out. We could try to get across to France and move further south on the continent but the Channel Tunnel had collapsed in parts and I wasn't exactly an accomplished sailor. No, it was much better to set up a home and stick with it for the foreseeable future.
'Hey' Dan shouted, running in his ungainly way over to me 'you said you'd play'
'And I am, come on' I got up, leaving the map and tablet in the grass and picked up the second bat. As we played, I told him of my intentions.
'So could we get a place near the sea?' he asked hopefully.
'Yeah, probably not too far from it anyway. We don't want to be right on the coast because of storms but we'd be within a mile or two. I'd like to be able to familiarise myself with boats too, in case we ever wanted to cross over to the rest of Europe'.
'Sweet. Maybe you could learn to drive one of those big yachts'
'I wish. That'd be great. I was thinking we'd spend the rest of the day here and tomorrow we'll make an early start back down south. That Smart car won't hold a lot of supplies though, so we'll need to pick up something bigger, with plenty of fuel to go with it'.
'Okay, but there's something you should know first' he said, almost whispering.
'What?' I asked, a little alarmed. Dan smiled and pulled down his shorts. His fat four and a half incher was sticking out, pointing straight at me. I smiled and got down on my knees in the bright sunshine and took him into my mouth.
We were on the road again. The little eco car had been discarded in favour of a new four by four, a Range Rover, topped up with petrol and plenty more in a large fuel cannister. As we drove back through Manchester, I stopped off at the abandoned Audi and retrieved the items and supplies we had left behind. It saved us breaking into another shop for a few days and I felt better for having my own laptop back with the backup solar charger.
That day, I didn't feel like going slowly. We had started off at six o'clock in the morning and by lunchtime we had already left the city, passed through countryside and had Birmingham at our backs. We encountered heavy blockages around the Midlands city so the journey went slower and we came to Coventry at just after four in the afternoon. We probably could have made it to Northampton by seven, but we had cleared more than half the distance back to London in just one day, so we stopped off for the night in a small detached cottage in the outer-lying suburbs.
The following day was another early start. I joined the M1 heading south and passed Milton Keynes and then Luton as I approached the outer reaches of the capital. The congestion had grown heavy again, the heat-shimmering cars were baking hot under the cloudless azure sky. Thankfully, a single south bound lane had been kept clear during the last moments before the Collapse for emergency service use. It wasn't all smooth-sailing but it certainly helped matters.
I merged onto the city girdling M25 and headed east then south east along it. We had to stop and start many dozens of times that day. Heathrow airport had seen an enormous rush of people during the Outbreak. There were those who were trying to flee from the country and those seeking shelter from elsewhere. Dead, hulking carcasses of planes were scattered across the runways and an unsightly mangled mess of engines and fuselage of a downed plane was strewn across the motorway. Dan watched in fascinated horror as I drove as carefully through the wreckage as I could. The bodies of the crash victims had been mercifully cremated by the post crash fire.
We stayed on the M25, passing through Staines and ducking in and out of smaller dual-carriageways to avoid the bulk of the cluttered roads. As we came up on Leatherhead, the density of dead cars began to ease up and I left the M25, slipping onto the M23 southbound. The smaller Gatwick airport wasn't as badly congested as Heathrow and we made it to the mid-sized satellite town of Crawley by late afternoon. We were just over twenty miles to Brighton.
A detached Victorian villa provided us with shelter for the night. The bright sandstone-faced building had dulled in places but had apparently been well-cared for by the previous occupants. It was clean inside, with no hint of any death around. All the same, I flung open windows to eradicate the empty musty smell that all homes developed when they were left empty.
The main bedroom was a little too flowery and feminine for me, so we chose to sleep in what appeared to be a young teenage boy's room. Posters of hip-hop stars and busty young beauty queens littered the walls and clothes and discarded junk food wrappers were stuffed under the single bed.
'It'll be a bit of a squeeze, both of us sleeping in there' I pointed out to Dan.
'I'll just sleep on top of you then' he said, cheekily grinning. I pulled him close and planted a kiss on his soft lips.
'Hey, let's look around his room, there might be some...how shall I put it? Naughty things to find' Dan knew I meant porn or other evidence of teenage boy sexual habits and his eyes lit up with sexy mischievousness. He started looking through the wardrobe, I meanwhile, knowing better, started pulling stuff out from under the bed. I found an old dark blue t-shirt smeared with white stains. 'Here' I said, throwing it over Dan's head. He pulled it off and examined it closely, bringing it to his nose and sniffing it cautiously. Just the sight of that made my cock throb.
I found nothing more under the bed but Dan retrieved a rewritable DVD that had been hidden at the bottom of a box of various bits and pieces. It was marked with backup files. I knew that was just another teenage boy way of keeping his porn stash from falling into the wrong hands.
With my laptop fully charged, I started it up and popped in the disk. Dan and I stripped as it loaded up, sitting on the bed with the laptop balanced on my lap. My cock was hard and so was Dan's. He reached over and gently squeezed my purple head through my foreskin making me thrust my hips a little in response.
The disk opened up and I clicked through the usual petty safeguards. Science, maths, English, Spanish etc. I came across the folder porn and I opened it up. A lot of straight stuff. I opened up a few videos of lesbians eating pussy and saw Dan's dick begin to deflate. I shut those off straight away and found a sub-folder labelled me and becky. There were several pics of his girlfriend in various states of undress but the video was of much more interest. I could see a lean, tight body lying back on the very bed we were sitting on. He slipped his hands into his boxers and pulled them off, releasing his teen cock. It was about six inches long and uncut. He moved the camera back a bit so we could see the entirety of him. He was cute, probably about fifteen, with emo-style hair flicked across his face and coloured wristbands above his right hand, jiggling up and down as he worked his throbbing dick. He was looking towards his feet and talking to someone. His girlfriend bent down from the bottom of the bed and started sucking on his dick. Dan and I were both wanking each other off, ignoring the girl and focusing on the teenage boy getting his cock sucked, possibly for the first time in his life. He put his hands on her head and gently thrust his body against her mouth. She pulled back and wanked him, his jaw slack with the undiluted joy of it. He said he was about to cum and the girl got back to sucking him and pulled back again as he orgasmed. She stroked him off, his teen boy spunk spattering her hand and wrist and landing all over him. Dan came at that instant, his warm jizz spreading in my fist. I put the laptop down, pushed him back on the bed and wanked my cock over his face, blowing my load over his cute face, as he lapped at my cock head.
Dan fell asleep at just after eleven but I still felt wide awake. I crept downstairs and retrieved the little wind up radio from my backpack. It had been weeks since I'd last fiddled with it and as I rotated the tuner in hopes of picking up something human, I found only what I knew to be there: static, marred by the emergency broadcast systems. Most of the emergency channels had died off by now. I found one by the BBC and one coming all the way from Spain. They must have been running off solar or hydroelectric power sources to have kept going so long. The vanished stations probably ran on storage batteries, now exhausted. I sat in the semi-dark, moonlight streaming in and listened to the buzzing static.
The morning started off overcast and dreary but by midday, the hot sun had burned off the sullen grey clouds to reveal a sparkling clear sky. I turned the car off the A23 and took the A27 which was almost free of abandoned vehicles. By now we were in Brighton proper but the sheer scale of the battle that had taken place had not been visible until we reached the promenade on the edge of the sea.
Most of the seafront hotels were gouged with gaping holes, masonry, support beams and furniture spilling out of them like vivisected entrails. Several of the old Victorian guest houses were demolished entirely, collapsed into heaped mounds of brick and steel. Shop windows were cracked and smashed and skeletal human remains formed a carpet along most of the road. Discarded newspapers stirred in the warm breeze and hazily fluttered in imitation of life.
I turned my attention to the sea. Hulking, half-submerged carcasses of naval vessels dotted the otherwise pristine blue water off the south coast. The new Brighton pier had been pulverised by an American Nimitz-class super-carrier as it careened out of control. Half of it lay underwater, the rest jutted up at an oblique angle close to the beach. Small fires still burned from leaking oil and fuel reserves on the smaller vessels. The super-carrier itself was nuclear powered and I imagined the horrors of that engineering seeping out into the beautiful ocean. Planes had spilled off the launch deck and toppled into the sea, along with smaller support vehicles and helicopters.
I brought the car to a stop and got out. Dan undid his seatbelt and followed me. We walked over to the promenade footpath to get a better look at the devastation.
'Why did they fight?' he asked in an almost whisper. It was as though this were a special place, almost sacred. Some of the best weapons man possessed had been used against one another here, despite the hopeless nature of the Hyperflu. In spite of man’s best technology, they all fell regardless.
'I'm not really sure' I half-whispered back, breaking out of my dark reverie 'I think it was something to do with border skirmishes, Royal Navy and some ships from other European countries turned on the American peacekeeping fleet for some reason. Pretty much annihilated one another'. The day was silent, few seagulls bothered with the seaside now that humanity had vanished, the only sound present was the ominous and unsettling sound of groaning metal as the crippled vessels were stirred by the tides.
We walked up the beach for an hour or so, putting most of the naval wreckage behind us. The beach was studded here and there with debris but so far, there didn't appear to be any oil or fuel spillage from the ships. I told Dan to be on the safe side, though and not to go into the water for fear of radioactive waste from the American carrier.
I spotted a few dead dogs along the road as we walked back to the car. It looked as if they'd died within the last week or so. Their bodies were all skin and bone. Obviously they were not finding enough to eat these days and had started dying off. I didn't see any evidence of living dogs at all that day, which was one less danger to worry about.
As we drove west along the coastline, the level of carnage started to lessen and within an hour we had left the main battleground behind us. The buildings along the coast nearer to Portsmouth were undamaged save for the occasional burned out building, more likely due to accidental post-plague fires than any military action.
Portsmouth itself was almost devoid of any major damage or congestion. We drove slowly through the seafront town, looking for somewhere to spend the night. There was plenty of living space to choose from but I just didn't like the idea of being in a hotel facing the sea, knowing how much life had been needlessly lost in that battle. So I turned us back landward and took smaller country lanes to find somewhere where I couldn't hear the sound of waves or smell the salty air. We drove along Portsmouth Harbour and continued north for five miles and entered a 'chocolate box' village, the sign informing me it was called Southwick.
Nature had began to reclaim the small village but it didn't seem to impact as much as it had in other places. This place seemed to blend right in with the natural as it was. I slowed the car to a crawling pace and took my time.
'It's pretty' Dan observed 'My nan and granddad lived in a place like this'
'Yeah it is very nice looking. Somewhere that upper-class businessmen would buy a holiday home' Even as I said it, something started niggling at the back of my mind, a feeling that I'd been there before or had seen it somewhere. Intrigued, I took us off the main village road and onto a narrow common lane, framed on either side by dense woodland. I drove on for another mile or so before I came across a gated driveway nestled among the overhanging trees. A strong sense of deja vu overtook me and I parked the car outside.
I got out of the car and inspected the gates. They were of the electronic type, dead now that the power was gone. Next to them was a small side gate, also locked. Dan came over and helped me move a large red recycling bin over near the gate so we could get over the top.
'What we doing here?' he asked after the slipped over after me. I helped him up as he stumbled.
'Dunno, might be somewhere good to spend the night but I've got a weird feeling going on. Like I know this place or something' I noticed I was speaking in a low voice, why I didn't know.
The drive led us about fifty metres up a compacted dirt path with the dense woodland and bushes still hedging us in. We emerged into bright daylight in a wide clearing. My eyes were momentarily dazzled by a bright glint of reflected sunshine. I shielded my eyes with a hand and squinted at the source of the light. A structure of some kind was sitting in the middle of the clearing, about a hundred or so metres ahead of us. Dan saw it too and set out for it with me following up the rear.
The house was primarily glass and timber. It was the large floor to ceiling windows that had dazzled my eyes, catching the late afternoon sun. As we got closer, my deja vu increased in intensity before it finally clicked and memory came flooding into my head.
I was watching TV, a show on new-build house designs. Some stuffy young couple with three kids and a Labrador had hired an architect to build a sustainable house in the countryside. They had wanted their home to be off-grid, so all the power had to be supplied from a mixture of solar panels and a small wind turbine. Late into the build, the couple had added a miniature hydroelectric turbine to the little river backing on to their land so they could have electricity even when it was an overcast and windless day. When the build was finished, the shows presenter was taken on a tour of the new home.
The house was split over three levels. On the ground floor, the couple showed the presenter around an opulent pearly finished kitchen with heavy granite work surfaces. A huge living/dining room took up one entire side of the house, with a large flat panel television bolted to the wall in front of a luxurious corner unit sofa/chaise longue. The rest of the downstairs was taken up by a large hallway with a grand staircase and a small utility room. On the first floor were four bedrooms, and two bathrooms, one of the rooms being an en-suite for guests. The second floor was a third smaller than the first two and comprised the master suite. It had the same floor to ceiling windows as the living room and afforded views over the clearing, woods and surrounding countryside.
I matched all this to the house as we came up to the front door. The door was unlocked and I turned the nob gently as it opened. It creaked as it swung slowly inwards. The smell of an unaired, musty house hit my nostrils but nothing nasty appeared to be around. We were in the big hallway, with the staircase before us.
'How did you know this was here?' Dan asked as he went into the living space. It was all as I remembered from the TV show. The big screen, the expensive furniture.
'I just remembered as we were driving around the village, I'd seen it all on TV, one of those house design shows'
Dan raced ahead of me to explore the first floor while I inspected the kitchen. It was clean but dust had settled in thick swathes. I didn't smell any rotten food and opened the refrigerator experimentally. There was nothing inside to decompose, just a sealed tub of butter, a few jarred conserves and a bottle of now lumpy milk. Since they were all sealed, there was no smell even though the fridge was not powered.
I popped through an adjoining door to the utility area and spied nothing more exciting than a washing machine and a drier and a small toilet and wash-room through another door.
I saw Dan in a boyish room as I came up the stairs. He was fiddling with a Playstation 3 and a flat screen TV.
'I don't think the power is running' I said 'It's probably tripped a switch at some point, I'll go look for the fuse box in a minute'.
'OK, I'll just look around here for a bit' Dan replied, as he rummaged through the stuff for more boyish treasures. I smiled and ascended the staircase to the top floor.
I didn't remember what the master suite looked like, so I was thrown aback by the luxury. A four post tester bed dominated the room, probably king sized. Off to the left, through a small archway was a huge walk-in wardrobe full of clothes. I returned to the main area of the bedroom and opened a door to the right of the bed. It was a large en-suite bathroom, with a free-standing bath, toilet, his and hers basins and a wide, two-man shower cubicle. I turned a tap on the sink but only a little dribble of water came out and then stopped.
I left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom, noting a wide space taken up with a two-seater sofa and a coffee table and a small wall-mounted television. These people had known how to make a luxury home. Dan came upstairs and entered the room.
'Wow' he exclaimed, throwing himself down on the big bed.
'Yeah I know' I said, throwing myself down beside him. I put and arm over him and kissed him on the lips. I was feeling horny and so was he but I pulled myself away. 'Come on, we've got stuff to do, we can christen the sheets later'.
Back on the ground floor, I located the electrical box in a cupboard under the stairs. It wasn't as simple as I first assumed. Dimly glowing LEDs informed me that there was a blockage in the little hydro turbine and that the wind generator was shut down. I flicked a switch to bring the solar power back on and nothing happened. Dan and I listened in silence for a TV to come on, something to indicate the presence of electricity. After twenty or so seconds we heard a low thumping sound and then knocking coming from the walls. I left the understairs cupboard and followed the noises up to the second floor. I heard running water. It was coming from the tap I'd left on in the en-suite bathroom.
'Of course' I shouted.
'What?' asked Dan.
'Oh. Well, this place was off-grid, not just for power but for water too. The people who designed and built this place selected this land not just because of the view but because of easy access to an underground aquifer....a source of fresh water. They used some of their solar power to pump it up'.
Astonished at the ingenuity of the house, I raced back downstairs to the cupboard.
By early evening I had managed to reinstate the wind turbine which I could see on a hill about half a kilometre away, turning languidly. It provided enough energy to power the central heating and get enough water for two showers. I took mine first and let Dan have a little longer with his. When we were done, we went around the house, turning off all electrical appliances which were turned on and ready for power, to avoid blowing out the fuse box. Then we went into the boyish room and turned on the TV and the Playstation at the plug. Dan waited upstairs while I flicked the switch to power the plug sockets. I heard a squeal of delight and I hurried up to the bedroom and saw Dan, controller in hand, flicking through the consoles menu. I was mesmerised by the game. I hadn't seen a powered TV for months and I'd honestly forgotten what a big screen was like.
Dan was only wearing a pair of briefs when I came into the master room carrying a bottle of champagne and two flute glasses.
'Where'd ya get that?' he asked.
'I found it in the side-cabinet in the living room. There's a lot of good booze here' I popped the cork, making both of us jump and poured out two glasses. I raised mine and Dan raised his 'to this awesome house' we both sipped at it, Dan pulled a sour face and I kissed it away and raised my glass again 'and to our new home'.