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Krysty led Ryan to the whirlpool bath. The water was still hot, and she
pressed a violet-colored button to mix in some scented foam, making the
exercise room smell like a meadow in summer. A square black button made the
water churn and swirl. Great cascades of bubbles burst all around Ryan as he
lowered himself cautiously into the bath.
"Nice?" she asked.
"Not bad," he replied, offering a hand to help her step in beside him. There
was a ledge around the side of the bath and they sat together on it, the water
only a few inches over their laps.
Krysty, her back to him, lowered herself carefully into the water while he
caressed her from behind. "Oh, yes. Yes, Ryan, that's great. Not too fast."
Ryan reached around, feeling her nipples move against his palm. His right hand
delved lower and deeper, under the water, between her parted thighs, found the
tiny bud of flesh that nestled there. Rolling it between his finger and thumb,
he enjoyed hearing the girl moan. It became swollen and she leaned her head
back, half turning and nipping at the skin of his shoulder, drawing a ruby
bead of blood.
Gasping she removed his hand from between her legs, then gripped his rigid
penis and quickly guided it into her body.
Krysty had extraordinary control over all her muscles, tightening herself
about him, squeezing his penis, bringing him toward a raging orgasm.
Though he tried to hold back for her, the girl's skill was too much for Ryan,
and he felt himself bursting inside her. But he stayed hard long enough for
her to ride him to her own climax.
All around them the scented water continued to bubble noisily. Still sitting
on his lap, Krysty kissed him tenderly on the cheek. "Good. Thanks, Ryan."
"It was real good." He paused. "Krysty& Oh, fireblast! Thanks."
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After a while they made love once again in the whirlpool bath, then finally
got out, dripping water everywhere.
"Should get some clean clothes, Ryan," she suggested.
"Yeah. Tomorrow let's go to the store and find us some."
They dressed in their old gear, making sure their weapons were in place.
Krysty, ready before him, looked around the big exercise room, taking in the
equipment and the mirrors. The bath was loudly draining.
"Look."
"What is it?"
"The fuckin' spyin' old bastard." She stooped to pick up a length of ragged
green ribbon from the floor near the door.
The kind of ribbon that Quint, the Keeper of the redoubt, wore braided in his
straggly gray beard.
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Chapter Six
"HOW DO THE WOLVES survive, Uchitel?" asked Bochka, the Barrel, astride the
largest horse in the party.
"They eat the weak."
"If there are no weak, brother?"
Uchitel peered through the gap between his hood and the scarf around his nose
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and mouth. "Then they eat each other, Bochka." Raising his voice so the others
could hear him, he added, "And if we fall on evil times and must devour each
other, I take the leader's right of roasting Bochka all for myself."
A ripple of laughter ran back along the column until it vanished in the murk
of wind-blown snow. Since the raiders had left Ozhbarchik two days back, the
weather had been deteriorating. Three times Uchitel had ordered emergency
shelters to be dug in the packed snow; they used the long-bladed saws that
they carried for just such a purpose. It took less than five minutes to throw
up a wall of large snow bricks six feet high to protect them all from the
lethal wind. During the rare calms, Uchitel had gazed back, trying to spot any
sign of pursuit. Away to the north, he could make out the smoke-tipped cone of
one of the many new volcanoes that had appeared at the time of the wars. The
snow around it was tinted gold from the sulfur fumes, and there was no sign of
any living thing in all that dreadful wilderness. Nothing except the huge
mutated white bears that occasionally loomed from the blizzard, threatening
the column.
The bears& and the wolves lean gray shapes with slavering jaws and thrusting
muzzles, slinking at the corners of a man's vision. Several times over the
years they had lost men to the wolves. It was one of the reasons that everyone
feared becoming a straggler.
Only the day before a man had gotten left behind. It had happened to Nul, a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]