= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Chapter 11 - The Story of Lorrie
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
I begged Michael to let me write this part of the story. I was taking creative writing in school when all of this went down and, so, I think the story needs my touch. So yes, I was completely in puppy love with Michael at this point. I was also a virgin, technically. Meaning I hadn't actually had a penis inside me. I had had other things, like Mom's purple vibrator, her glass dildo, a cucumber, and some other assorted, um, 'items' inside me. But not a real penis.
So, you may ask, why was I in love with Michael? I mean, he was, and still is, basically an old man! I think he's 36 or 38 at this point and I was just past 18. He's as old as my mom. He could be my dad, for Christ's sake. In those older days, I think he was like ready to collect Social Security! (I'm sure he will be spanking me at about this point when he reads this.)
Well, it was just Mom and I growing up, 'Dad' was just something other people had, not us. He left before I was born and there never was another man around for very long. Mom had very high standards. She had 'friends' but never 'uncles'. But somewhere along the line, I think I was about 13 or 14, I watched a movie with Mom. It was called 'Tombstone.' Maybe you've seen it. It's the story of Wyatt Earp and his brothers. It starred Kurt Russel as Wyatt, and had lots of other cool people in it. But the reason I'm telling you this, is because this is the first time I saw Sam Elliott. Ahh, my Sam. I used to write his name and draw flowers around it. I used to write my name and his name together, and I would write 'Lorrie Elliott' and fill pages with hearts and flowers! So you don't know him? He was Virgil Earp. Tall, slightly graying hair, and THAT VOICE! Deep baritone, Texas accent, and his character was just a fucking MAN about everything. He was also in Ghost Rider (my second favorite movie, behind Tombstone) as the guy in the graveyard who tells Nicholas Cage what's going on with everything. He did a bunch of TV commercials, including Ram Trucks for the last few years right up to the Zombie Crash.
I don't know where he is now, but I'm sure he's in Texas doing just fine. So as you can see, I grew up with this mega crush on some old movie actor.
Fast forward till now. We girls were on the run from the zombies, and we were losing people left and right. You can't even imagine the terror and hopelessness of that. (Michael hadn't gone through that so he never explained much about 'the crash' of civilization in this story.) He was all set up there in his bunker drinking cold beers and jacking off. Meanwhile, WE were near death at every step. I got really hurt falling down as we were trying to climb a fence. I could feel hot blood running down my back and I could see the fear in everyone's eyes as we tried to find a house to let us in, away from the relentless killers.
I remember getting inside this house, and then passing out. I have glimpses of things from then on, but I'm not sure if they are my actual memories or false ones since I've heard the story so many times.
What I do remember is waking up and not knowing what the fuck was going on. I was face down on a bed, pretty much lying in a flood of what smelled like pee (it was mine, yuck!) all in a strange room I had never seen before. Mom came and helped me and tried to fill me in on what was happening; this miracle man had saved our lives at the very last possible moment before we were all eaten alive. He had taken us to a secure place that had food, water, electricity, movies, guns, popcorn, and he wasn't an asshole! He patched me up and kept me from dying of infection.
I met him for the first time a little while later that day. I had just found out he was nearly killed the night before getting me some medicine, and he was now training the girls in shooting skills so they could all kill zombies.
So here's the scene: He walks in to say 'hello' to me. And he's got a TEXAS accent! Not real strong, but nice, you know? I think maybe he's in his 30's, he's got jeans on and some kind of army sweater on, and military-looking boots. His air, his demeanor, he was just... well he wasn't a pussy, I can tell you that! His handsome face appeared upset about something, and yet he was pure sweetness and kindness to me. As we chatted, he ran a finger around my ear, pushing my hair off my face and behind that ear. I just about melted.
Over the next couple of days, while I'm recovering, stories start filtering around how he's having sex with some of the girls, and he's got a big fucking cock. So let's recap. Big cock, good-looking guy, tall, Texas accent, has his shit together, kills zombies without batting an eye, saves damsels in severe distress, likes musicals and retro rock, is apparently good at pleasing the ladies, and he's old. So that's about 89 good things to one not-so-great thing. Fortunately, I've had a life long love affair with my older Sam, so that one thing is not a show-stopper.
So like yes, I was totally head over heels, prime time in love with him! Do I have to actually say it? "My Sam" became "My Micheal". All I had to do was convince him that I was so much better than the 8 hot babes already here, not to mention my age-appropriate mother. No problem whatsoever, right? Especially for an injured virgin like myself!
Things went along for a time, Michael was banging everyone including my Mom, and completely leaving me alone. He seemed to not really want to look at me at times. Now, I don't want to seem like all stuck up and shit, but I'm pretty damn cute. I was thinking it was maybe my boobs. Guys are so weird. They seem to like boobs, but if you've got over-sized ones like I do, they just make fun of you or get all stupid or, I don't know what. I know there's guys who think that 'more than a handful is a waste', and then there's guys who just love massive tits. How do I know this while remaining a virgin? Simple! I watch a lot of porn and read the comments.
So Mom and I talked a lot about him. She was gushing and gave me a few details of their alone time together. I knew she was smitten (her word, not mine) but she also knew it was just kind of a fling; Michael didn't seem to want to get too attached at this point. I was down with that. If it was me and I lived with 8 hot guys, I wouldn't just settle down with one and tell the others to bail!
But mom was saying that she thought he liked me, and she had told him that I was in love with him. I just about smacked her for that! But, I was. Late at night, when mom thought I was asleep, I could hear mom giving herself an orgasm. Squishy sounds in a small room, can only be one thing, ya know? Sometimes she would whisper his name. Then she'd fall asleep. Of course, that got me very horny so then I'd have to pleasure myself, also whispering his name.
After I cum, I like to dip my fingers in my cunt and spread my orgasm around my stiff nipples. Then, I lick them clean. I think it's very sexy. I got it from watching Mom once with one of her 'friends'. But I added a little twist. After I swallow down my juices, I like to just hug my boobs to my face, like soft warm pillows. Sometimes I kiss and suck my nipples more, but usually they just comfort me. Most nights I drift off to sleep that way.
I figured the one thing I could do to get Michaels' attention was to become a world-champion zombie slayer. And so when my back healed I worked very hard and listened to everything he said and I got fucking good at it! Erin is a better shooter than me, but, up close and personal? I'm the best of all the girls. My tools are, a Gerber mini-machete and a long painters pole. On the pole, we worked up a spike with kind of a "Tee" on it. The move is, I use the pole to try and knock down the Zed, then hack his fucking brain with the machete. If he's really big and I can't knock him down, the pole at least keeps his arms off me while I hack them before I get to his stupid head.
I used to be kind of like a girly-girl, not very athletic or anything. And I liked dressing up and looking pretty, and I was never bothered with any worldy concerns outside my little circle of friends. In short, I was a narrow-minded twit. But hey, we can all change!
Now, I feel naked if I don't have my 1911 and my Mini-machete strapped on me. I feel nervous if I don't also have my pole and my AR strapped on or within arm's reach. I like killing these fuckers, I don't mind saying it. I was just starting to enter the world, and they fucked it all up. I hate them.
- - -
Okay I just got the stink-eye from Michael. He said I was supposed to write about my first sexual experience with another person, but instead I'm "blathering on about everything except that." I guess he's right, it's his story and I'm only a guest writer. Still, I just stood up and farted in his general direction, just to teach him a lesson.
So where were we... Ah yes! The Dance! I didn't go to my Prom because Chris got the flu, so I always felt bad about missing that. And missing the after-prom activities! But Chris was too shy and didn't know what to do anyway... I know, I know! I'm digressing! Jesus Christ you people need to calm down.
So, Michael made us a light but wonderful dinner. Obviously, he didn't want us to get filled up! But he was freely pouring the drinks, for sure. He was so kind, and sweet, and staring into my eyes, when he asked me to dance I just nodded because I was about to cry! He pulled me close, our bodies touched. He traced the scar on my back from my neck down to my lower back. It was sexy, not gross, and it just reminded me that this heroic man saved my life on several occasions now, and he was touching ME and dancing with ME.
I could feel little stirrings in my pussy during dinner, but good lord I was on fire when we started dancing! His strong arms wrapped around me, his manly scent enveloped me, I just wanted him to completely take me over. As he held me tight, my breasts crushed into him. Does that do anything for him? It did a lot for me. As he pulled me even closer, I could feel something on his right leg. Something hard. I'm sure it was his cock, but I thought it was in the middle between his legs, not on a leg?
"Ah," he said. "Excuse me for a second, babe." Michael pulled back and stuck his hand down his own pants. "All better now."
I wasn't sure what happened, I guess he straightened himself out. Although I had watched a lot of pornos, the cocks were usually just hard; I didn't know how long it took to go from soft to hard. We giggled about that as he pressed it into me again. This time, I could feel all of his hardness pressed against me. And he said it was for me, I made him that hard. Holy shit! My nipples were hard, I can tell you that, and my pussy seemed to be on fire, a wet fire.
Then, he said he liked me. ME! The awkward, mis-proportioned girl! He likes me! A lot! I kissed his cheek, then he turned and he met me with his mouth. Our tongues danced and time seemed to stand still. Next thing I know both his hands are on my ass cheeks, and he's pressing his hard cock into my tummy. I moved a little sideways so I got one of his legs between mine, and I grinded against him like a common slut. But I didn't care, it felt so GOOD!
