Page 71 of The Last Man on Earth
“Vincent.” She gives me that look, the one I call the schoolteacher look in my head.
“My bad,” I say. “No reason, really. Just liked it.”
Her fingers trace a series of numbers. “And this one?”
“My son’s birthday.”
She traces my cousin’s face. “Who is this?”
“My little cousin Yara. She passed.”
“I’m sorry.”
She waits for a beat, then drags her finger down to the compass on my chest. “I like this one.”
“That’s the only one I regret.”
Her gaze flickers up to mine. “Why?”
“I got it to symbolize always knowing where I’m going. But it was bullshit. I ain’t never been sure of where I’m going.”
Her hand stills right over my heart. “And now you have absolutely no clue where you are.”
“Ain’t that some shit?” I say, then we both burst out laughing.
Gotta laugh to keep from crying.
Neither one of us has mentioned the plane since it flew by yesterday. It lowkey feels like we’re avoiding it the way you would avoid moving too much if you were standing on top of a frozen lake with cracks in it. One more little disturbance and the bottom drops out from under you.
It’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of the waves. She leans in, pressing her lips to the edge of the compass. That’s all it takes. Now my hand is on her ass and hers is on my dick. She only has to pump my shit twice and I’m ready.
We climb out and assume the position. I slide into her from behind, and it feels just as good now as it did the first time. Actually, it feels better. It’s like her pussy is molding itself to the shape of my dick.
“Where’s your head at, baby girl?”
Her knuckles are white where she’s gripping the edge of the platform. “I don’t know,” she moans. “Frustrated, a little. Mmmm.”
“Yeah. Same.”
I slide in and out so easily. She so fuckin’ wet. Always, every single fuckin’ time, her pussy is perfect. It feels perfect. It tastes perfect.
“Somebody’ll come for us,” I murmur. “Right now, you cum for me.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Mmm. Nah. Don’t do that,” I warn.
She giggles. “You don’t like that, Daddy?”
“You gon’ fuck around and make me beat yo shit out the frame. Keep playin’ wit me.”
“Do it,” she teases, bouncing her ass in a circle. “Beat it up, Daddy.”
I slide my fingers over her scalp and fist her hair, snatching her head back so her arch gets deeper. I smile when she yells out, cuz she ain’t talkin’ that shit now.
Matter of fact, she don’t say no more words again while I’m tearin’ her shit up. There’s plenty of noise, but not a single word.
Then somewhere far off in the distance, thunder rolls.
