found their way inside her waiting cunt, shoving inside hard. She stifled a moan. The position twisted her body uncomfortably, but she didn’t care. Hips undulating with a desperate need, she thrust her fingers again and again while circling and teasing her clit.
Tears rose to her eyes as she fingered herself. This was why she hadn’t done this in so long. She remembered . Words rose in her otherwise silent mind - Alone. Alone. Each thrust built towards a rough and rapid climax. She rubbed her clit harder and writhed, there on the concrete floor of the elevator shaft, there alone. Her heart ached with it; but the rest of her body had other needs, and there was no stopping it now. With a cry somewhere between a blissful wail and a despairing sob, she shuddered with a white hot orgasm. Pulses of ecstatic sensations surged through her as the tears in her eyes finally spilled down her cheeks. Sniffling, she redid her belt. The moment of awful clarity faded as the aftershocks of her pleasure died down. Her mind sought the daze it had been living in. Soon, she’d sleep, and feel nothing again.
Something stirred far above her head. Her half-closed eyes shot open once more. A torrent of dust and dirt rained down and a metal clang echoed from high above; a rush of wind disturbed and dropped more debris her way. The cable audibly snapped somewhere above, and went slack next to her. Her eyes went wide. She heaved herself onto her side, then onto her knees, and dove out of the shaft. She scrambled forwards on elbows and knees, unable to get a good grip on the ground in all the dust, toppled over, covered her head. The elevator smashed behind her. If it kicked up more dust she couldn't tell. The volume shocked her, reverberating around the empty lobby and back up the elevator shaft. Heavy pieces of debris hit her back and she cried out.
Then she laughed. She rolled onto her side, felt blood running from a shoulderblade, dropped her scarf and choked on the dust. She shouted up at the ceiling. "You want me to leave?" The wind howled. The building groaned. The city crumbled around her. She laughed again, the sound closer to hysteria than mirth. Her scarf was gone.
+++++
The messages stopped. She didn’t hear the motorcycle again, but she assumed the man was gone. Yet she couldn’t relax. She felt eyes everywhere - she knew they were just empty windows, empty doorways, empty cars; but as the city’s dead eyes stared at her, she could feel his amongst them.
Her guard was down. She wasn’t looking for the signs of his passing, and maybe there were none. The sun was up, and she was wandering the streets like a wraith; no direction. She wasn’t even confident that her body had a form anymore, sometimes. She just floated. When she rounded a corner and saw him standing there as if waiting for a bus, waiting for her , she froze in place.
He remained still, as if dealing with a frightened animal. Maybe that was all she was anymore. He wore sunglasses, hiding his face as surely as she hid her own behind the goggles. He wore a ratty, worn pair of jeans, also similar to her own. The black leather jacket, though, stood out. It was clean, well-cared for, and had patches near the collar. She couldn’t make them out from where she stood. So, hesitantly, she approached.
The patches were forgotten as soon as she stood close. The smell of leather and sweat filled her nose and made her dizzy. It was the smell of another human being. She removed her goggles. He stood frozen still, so she reached up and removed his sunglasses and placed both on the nearby windowsill.
She found herself at a complete loss for words. She hadn't spoken in so long. Even the words she directed towards the sky, she wasn’t sure they came from her mouth. She might have just thought them. Standing in the dead city, bereft of everything she'd ever had, she found she had nothing to say to this stranger. It felt as though she'd lost her voice along with everything
Tears rose to her eyes as she fingered herself. This was why she hadn’t done this in so long. She remembered . Words rose in her otherwise silent mind - Alone. Alone. Each thrust built towards a rough and rapid climax. She rubbed her clit harder and writhed, there on the concrete floor of the elevator shaft, there alone. Her heart ached with it; but the rest of her body had other needs, and there was no stopping it now. With a cry somewhere between a blissful wail and a despairing sob, she shuddered with a white hot orgasm. Pulses of ecstatic sensations surged through her as the tears in her eyes finally spilled down her cheeks. Sniffling, she redid her belt. The moment of awful clarity faded as the aftershocks of her pleasure died down. Her mind sought the daze it had been living in. Soon, she’d sleep, and feel nothing again.
Something stirred far above her head. Her half-closed eyes shot open once more. A torrent of dust and dirt rained down and a metal clang echoed from high above; a rush of wind disturbed and dropped more debris her way. The cable audibly snapped somewhere above, and went slack next to her. Her eyes went wide. She heaved herself onto her side, then onto her knees, and dove out of the shaft. She scrambled forwards on elbows and knees, unable to get a good grip on the ground in all the dust, toppled over, covered her head. The elevator smashed behind her. If it kicked up more dust she couldn't tell. The volume shocked her, reverberating around the empty lobby and back up the elevator shaft. Heavy pieces of debris hit her back and she cried out.
Then she laughed. She rolled onto her side, felt blood running from a shoulderblade, dropped her scarf and choked on the dust. She shouted up at the ceiling. "You want me to leave?" The wind howled. The building groaned. The city crumbled around her. She laughed again, the sound closer to hysteria than mirth. Her scarf was gone.
+++++
The messages stopped. She didn’t hear the motorcycle again, but she assumed the man was gone. Yet she couldn’t relax. She felt eyes everywhere - she knew they were just empty windows, empty doorways, empty cars; but as the city’s dead eyes stared at her, she could feel his amongst them.
Her guard was down. She wasn’t looking for the signs of his passing, and maybe there were none. The sun was up, and she was wandering the streets like a wraith; no direction. She wasn’t even confident that her body had a form anymore, sometimes. She just floated. When she rounded a corner and saw him standing there as if waiting for a bus, waiting for her , she froze in place.
He remained still, as if dealing with a frightened animal. Maybe that was all she was anymore. He wore sunglasses, hiding his face as surely as she hid her own behind the goggles. He wore a ratty, worn pair of jeans, also similar to her own. The black leather jacket, though, stood out. It was clean, well-cared for, and had patches near the collar. She couldn’t make them out from where she stood. So, hesitantly, she approached.
The patches were forgotten as soon as she stood close. The smell of leather and sweat filled her nose and made her dizzy. It was the smell of another human being. She removed her goggles. He stood frozen still, so she reached up and removed his sunglasses and placed both on the nearby windowsill.
She found herself at a complete loss for words. She hadn't spoken in so long. Even the words she directed towards the sky, she wasn’t sure they came from her mouth. She might have just thought them. Standing in the dead city, bereft of everything she'd ever had, she found she had nothing to say to this stranger. It felt as though she'd lost her voice along with everything
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