Sarah lingered in the small bedroom, her skin still flushed from Silas's touch, a mix of exhilaration and embarrassment swirling in her chest. The bunker's scant dress code loomed--thongs, toplessness, the bare minimum to conserve water--but the thought of walking out so exposed made her stomach twist. She rummaged through her bag, settling on a pair of subtle cotton panties and a full-sized bra that covered her breasts, a compromise between modesty and the bunker's norms. Silas, unperturbed, slipped into his briefs, the faded fabric clinging to his hips, his thick bulge unmistakable beneath the thin material. He caught her eyeing him, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Ready, girl?"
She nodded, smoothing her hair, and they stepped out, the cartoon's credits still rolling behind them as the kids giggled on the bunk. The corridor hummed with the bunker's steady pulse as they passed the cafeteria, its stainless steel gleaming under artificial light. A family approached--the Asian couple they'd glimpsed earlier, now properly introduced. The husband, a lean man in his thirties with a reserved smile, wore boxers, while his wife opted for modest pantie and a bra. She was tall and slim and had large breasts for Asian women. "I'm Ken," he said, his voice soft. "This is my wife, Mei." Mei nodded, her eyes warm but guarded.
Their children trailed behind--two younger ones, a boy and girl under five, fully clothed, and an older daughter, 18, who stood out starkly. She was topless, her darker nipples contrasting her pale skin, her thong a scrap of fabric that revealed more than it hid. Sarah's brow furrowed--something felt off. Ken and Mei, barely past their thirties, with an 18-year-old? The math didn't add up, but she held her tongue, offering a polite smile instead. "Tommy, Ellie, and Grace," she said, gesturing to her own kids, who peeked from behind.
Silas shook Ken's hand, his grip firm, but his eyes flicked to the daughter, a flicker of curiosity he quickly masked. They moved on, descending the stairs to the lower level, the air cooling as they went. Courtney's voice cut through the hum, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she sauntered up, Ian trailing behind her. "Wow," she drawled, her gaze dropping to Silas's briefs, "no wonder Sarah's with you. Look what he's packing down there. Mr. Mystery's now Mr. Stallion." Her smirk was sharp, her thong riding high as she leaned closer.
Sarah's cheeks burned, her arm tightening around Silas's, a defensive edge flaring. "He's mine," she said, her voice low but firm, staking her claim. Courtney laughed, unbothered, and gestured to a young Indian man nearby. "Let me introduce you to Vinay." He stood with his wife, Priya, a petite woman in modest underwear, and two boys under five, their small hands clutching her hands. Vinay's dark eyes met Silas's with a cool distance, less cordial than the others, his briefs snug against his lean frame. He nodded curtly, his attention drifting back to Courtney, a closeness between them that prickled Sarah's instincts.
As they turned to continue, Courtney's voice rang out again, sharp with mischief. "Hey, Vinay, look--someone couldn't wait." She pointed at Sarah's pantie, a damp patch and cum stain betraying the aftermath of their earlier passion. Sarah's face flamed, but Silas chuckled, pulling her closer, his hand brushing her hip possessively. "Damn right," he muttered, loud enough for Courtney to hear, his pride unmistakable.
They reached Dr. Olson's office at the bottom level, a sterile room with a metal exam table, a desk, and a cabinet of supplies. Linda, topless in her micro bikini bottom, greeted them with a warm smile, her amber waves framing her youthful face. "Kids first," she said, guiding Tommy, Ellie, and Grace to the table. Dr. Olson checked their vitals--heartbeats, lungs, a quick once-over--his hands steady despite his age. Silas and Sarah followed, already stripped to their underwear for the exam. Olson's stethoscope pressed cold against Silas's chest, then Sarah's, his sharp blue eyes assessing them with clinical detachment.
Olson moved to Sarah's pelvic exam, easing her legs apart exposing her trimmed blonde pubes and pink labia, still slick from Silas's seed hours ago, her clit a swollen nub glistening faintly. He inserted a speculum, cold metal parting her warm folds, her vaginal walls pink and slick, pulsing slightly as he peered inside, a smirk tugging his lips. "Wow. Already? Don't blame you." he chuckled, his voice a gravelly tease, noting the creamy residue of Silas's cum pooling at her cervix, her inner lips puffy from their earlier raw passion.
Sarah's cheeks turn red, her thighs trembling, a mix of shame and pride sparking low--she'd never been so claimed, her body still humming from Silas's thrusts. "All clear," Olson said finally, scribbling notes, the pen scratching loud in the quiet. He leaned back, folding his arms, his scrub pants shifting to hint at a lean groin. "How old are you, Silas?"
"Seventy-three," Silas replied, voice steady, a defiant edge as he met Olson's gaze, his hand brushing Sarah's knee, grounding her. "How about you?"
Olson smirked, a rare crack in his stern facade, his eyes flicking to Silas's briefs, the thick ridge of his cock unmistakable, then back up. "Younger than you--sixty-five. We're the old bulls here, huh?" He paused, tone matter-of-fact. "If you need any pills for, uh, stamina--erection stuff--let me know. Got plenty in stock."
Silas grinned, his hand sliding to Sarah's, fingers lacing tight, her pulse quickening at his touch, the memory of his cock stretching her flashing vivid--thirty minutes of unrelenting heat, his seed still warm inside her core. "Ain't needed 'em yet, Doc. But I'll keep it in mind."
Linda turned to Sarah, her voice softening as she tidied the speculum, her pink nipples bobbing slightly, her firm ass flexing in the thong's thin strap, Silas's eyes lingering on its peach-shaped curve, the fabric vanishing between her cheeks. "I guess you'll be helping with the kids--teaching, maybe? We've got a little school going. Your three will fit right in with ours." She glanced at her four charges coloring quietly in the corner, their crayons scraping paper.
