Resistance 3 - Chapter 2

2.

Meghan’s mom glanced toward her for a moment when she walked in the door, a harried look on her face, before she turned away again, the phone held up to her ear.

“Yes, sir.  Yes, sir, I understand.  I’ll be right over.  Please, please, if there’s anything you can do to keep this from getting out--

“Yes…  Ok, yes, I understand.  I’ll be there shortly.

“Thank you.

“Oh, honestly,” she exclaimed as she hung up the phone.  “Of all the days!  Come on, Meghan.”

Her mother picked up her keys and her purse and headed to the front door.  Meghan dropped her gym bag on the floor and followed her back outside to the car.

“Where are we going?” she asked as she got in, slamming the passenger door shut behind her.

“Your brother…”  Her mother shook her head agitatedly, her shoulder length blonde hair swaying.  “When your father finds out about this…”

She didn’t provide any further explanation as they drove a short distance to a large, looming concrete building.  Meghan realized with an unpleasant start that this was where she and her father had been detained once, five years ago.  She looked the edifice over as she got out of the car, familiar yet not, her memory of the place blunted by time.  It looked much the same as she recalled, save for the giant, metallic gold letters that hung over the entranceway, reading ‘GDC’.

As she and her mother entered, Meghan saw a long wooden counter had been placed across the length of the lobby, preventing access to the rest of the building.  A few various soldiers sat behind, chatting to each other or filling out paperwork, none of them acknowledging the pair of them.  

“Wait here,” her mother said as she approached one of the soldiers.  Meghan looked around a bit with mild interest, the feeling of deja vu still on her mind.  She sat down on a nearby bench.

Her mother and the soldier spoke for several minutes before she came back over to Meghan, sitting beside her.  “We’ll just have to wait.  It will probably be awhile…”

It was indeed nearly an hour of sitting there, Meghan beginning to nod off slightly, before a door banged open from the side, and a soldier appeared, walking backward through the doorway as he half helped, half pulled someone behind him.  

As the brown haired, shirtless, bare-footed, handcuffed man stumbled into the lobby, Meghan saw that it was her brother Derek, and he was blind, stinking drunk.

“Hey, Ma!” he called out, his head turned toward them, swaying back and forth as the soldier tried to undo his handcuffs.  

“Stand still!”

“You got it, bud,” Derek slovenly agreed, though he wasn’t any more or less steady as a result.  The soldier managed to get the cuffs unlocked despite the lack of cooperation.  The moment he was free, Derek stumbled off toward them, rubbing his wrists, his liberator immediately forgotten.

“Holy shit…  who’s your friend?”  Derek peered blearily at Meghan, though his focus was lower than her face.

“It’s me, Derek,” she said impassively.  “Meghan.  Your sister.”

Her brother’s eyes went wide at that, and he almost seemed to sober up slightly.

“Oh.  Well…  fuck.”

“C’mon, Derek.” Their mother sighed with aggravation.  “Let’s go.”

***

“God, I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here,” Meghan fumed the next morning, sitting on the bed in her room.

“Oh, come on,” Nate replied on his end of the line, back on campus, far away.  “You just got there…”

“Yea…  Just in time to bail my brother out of GDC custody.”

“What?!”

“They picked him up in a straggler raid.”

“I don’t understand,” Nate said.  “He’s inoculated already, isn’t he?”

“Yes….  Ugh, I don’t even want to tell you,” Meghan groused.

“Well…  you don’t have to…”  She smiled slightly then, despite herself.  Nate, always so steady, so reasonable and kind.

“It was a brothel.  Well, something like that anyway.”

“What..?”

“It’s like…  you go in there and do it with an infected hooker.  And you don’t even pay.  Because they don’t even want to get paid.  They just want the sex.”  

“Jeez…”  Nate sounded thoughtful.  Meghan felt perhaps a little too thoughtful.  Perhaps even wistful.

“Meghan?”

“Yea?”

“So…  This whole confession thing…  Do you think you’ll tell me a little bit about what it was like now..?”

“C’mon, Nate, I’ve been home for all of five minutes and you’re already on this again,” Meghan said, her aggravation back in full force.  “I already said I would talk about it.  You can’t just wait for me to bring it up on my own?”

It was one of the third or fourth times he’d asked about it.  When they’d met in college, they had instantly been drawn to each other, finding that they had much in common, despite having grown up across the country from each other in separate uninfected zones.  Nonetheless, they were in the vast minority of people their age who had grown up without the Legacy Virus, although, unlike Meghan, Nate had never been infected, his zone remaining secure all the way up until the Vaccine’s release.

It was only six months ago that she had admitted to him that she’d been infected at one point, half expecting him to break up with her on the spot.  But he’d only nodded his head in that patient, understanding way of his, not saying much at the time and they’d not discussed anything beyond that.  

Still, Meghan knew it was on his mind, that he was curious, with his gentle, occasional prodding.  He was never outright pushy or disrespectful, which in turn made Meghan feel increasingly guilty about her inability to open up.  And so she had finally agreed to start talking about it, share with him, starting when she went home to visit.  ‘Confessions of a Post-Infected College Girl’, she’d jokingly said.

Only now that it came down to it, now that she was back here, it didn’t seem so light-hearted...

“I’m sorry, Meghan, I know you don’t like to talk about it.  But it’s just…  it’s part of who you are.  It was two years of your life…”

“I know, Nate,” she acknowledged.  “I am going to tell you about it.  I…  I’m just not ready yet…”

“Sure,” her boyfriend replied affably.  “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.  At least I get to reap the benefits, with that rockin’ bod of yours…”

“Oh, don’t even try that with me…”  Meghan smiled again.  The sneaky guy knew just how to boost her mood with a little flattery.  She was both self conscious and immensely proud of her physique and the compliment served to both cheer and disarm her as a result.

Nate chuckled quietly, knowing he had hit the mark.  “I don’t like hearing my girl down in the dumps.  You know, you really mean a lot to me.  I…  I love you, Meghan…”

“I know…  I miss you, Nate.  A lot.  I wish I were there with you now.”  She knew he was waiting for her to respond in kind, but Meghan just wasn’t ready for that yet either.

“I miss you, too.”  Nate’s voice held only a trace of disappointment, but mostly that endless patience.  He was really something.

“Anyhow, it’s more than just the body, you know,” she said, her voice dropping confidentially.  She glanced at her bedroom door, confirming it was shut. 

“Oh, is it now?”  Nate had heard the shift in her tone, playing along.  “So what else then..?”

“You know…” she answered coyly.

“Nope,” Nate denied, deliberately oblivious.  “No idea…”

“Well, it’s not just my ‘rockin body’, it’s the way I use it…”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Sure…  you’ve never noticed how I use it…?”

Meghan leaned back in the bed up against the pillows, getting comfortable, the phone pressed to her ear.

“Well, I’m not sure,” Nate mused.  “I don’t know what you mean…”

“Well, I’m talking about how I press it up against you when we’re making out...”  Meghan fingered the collar of her shirt as they chatted.

“Oh, that.  Yea, I like definitely that…”

“Do you..?  How about the way I kiss you?  When I slide my tongue in your mouth…”

“Yea, I like that too…”  Nate’s voice was a little less playful now.

“How about when I kiss your neck?  While I unbutton your shirt and then kiss you on your collar bone, your chest…”

“Yea, Meghan, I definitely like that…  I like that too…”

“And then when I start unbuckling your belt…  and then your pants…  and pull down your zipper…”  Meghan’s hand was playing with the waistline of her jeans now, a thumb running back and forth along the hemline.

“Yea,” Nate breathed.   “Yea…”

“Then I take your hard cock out of your shorts and start stroking it…  Are you stroking yourself right now, Nate?”

“Yea…  I am…”

“Good boy,” Meghan praised.  Her own hand went down her pants, inside of her panties.  She was damp.  “If I were there, I wouldn’t just stroke it…  I’d put it in my mouth and suck on it…  lick it all over and then suck on it some more…”

Nate groaned.

“Then I’d push you on your back and climb on top of you…  and put your big cock in my tight, little pussy…”  Meghan moaned as she rubbed her slit, her fingers growing slick with her own lubrication.  “I’m touching myself right now, Nate…  My pussy is all wet…  all dripping wet for you…”

“Oh, shit,” Nate breathed.

“God, if I were there right now, I’d ride you so hard, pump my hips on top of you to take your big dick as deep into my pussy as I could…”

Meghan’s fingers entered inside, working in and out of herself.

“Then you could put your hands all over me…  all over my hot body…  feeling up my big titties…  while I ride on your dick, fucking you like a whore…”

Nate said nothing, panting on the line.

“Wouldn’t you like that?  Me riding you, like a hot little slut?  Your own filthy little whore…”

Meghan’s eyes were squeezed shut, her hips rising off the bed as she played with herself, her thumb grinding up against her own clit.

“And then you could cum…  squirt all that hot, sticky cum, right in my pussy…  and I’d cream so hard all over your cock…  feeling you shoot your load in my cunt makes me cum so hard, because I’m such a horny slut…”

“Oh shit,” Nate gasped on the other end of the line.  “I’m gonna… Oh, I’m gonna…”

“Me too, baby, I’m gonna squirt too…

“I am…

“Oh..

“Oh…

“Unnnnnnnghh…

“Ohhh Nate, unnnngh, unggggh, unnnngggghhh…”  Meghan moaned obscenely into the phone as she climaxed, humping her fingers.

“Oh, Nate…  Nate…”  She panted as she came down from her peak.

“Whew,” she said, pulling her soaking hand out from her pants, breathing hard.  “Ok…  well..  Go clean up..  I’ll talk to you again soon…”

“Jeez, Meghan,” Nate said, also panting.  “Holy shit…”

“Byeeee,” Meghan trailed off, disconnecting the call. 

Meghan sat up, a naughty smile playing on her face.  But she also felt a little troubled.  It was just to deflect, she told herself.  To get around telling Nate about herself.  Telling him she loved him.  Ultimately, opening herself up to him.  

But she knew that wasn’t all there was to it.  Cured or not from the Legacy Virus, she was still a bit…  perverse.  She was no longer driven by the virus’ amplifying, constant arousal, but it seemed like it had done lasting damage.  She couldn’t just enjoy sex anymore.  Making love.  She had to screw.  She had to fuck.  She had to be used like a slut, just like she’d said.  Fucked like a dirty little whore.

And even then, sometimes, it felt like it wasn’t enough…

There came a knock at the door.

“Yea?”

The door opened and it was Derek, hair tousled, stubble-faced, bleary, bloodshot eyes.  

“Were you calling for me or something,” he asked, holding his temple and wincing from his thundering hangover.

“No.  I was just on the phone.”

“Oh.

“All right well…”  He turned, shuffling back to the door.  “I just thought I heard you say my name or something…”

You wish, she thought, her eyes narrowing in dislike as he lumbered back out of the room.

And so do I.  The thought appeared in her mind, seemingly from nowhere.

What..?  

“No, I don’t,” Meghan muttered aloud.

“No, I don’t…”