A Girl and Her Pussy!

A Girl and Her Pussy!

I had just enough food for both of us for a couple more days; I heard that water and food was available on the Southwest frontier, so I packed up Harlan in the front basket and we pedaled away. He still was dealing with the sore from that skirmish with the black tom, and was missing a big patch of red fur on his left front leg.

We must have made about seven miles early on and I needed to take a potty break. I looked around, and apart from a store that seemed to be wide open, there didn't seem to be anything or anyone around. I walked around back of the building and did my business. Thirty some odd million people lost their lives in three minutes, and I'm still upset that I can still stand to pee. Yeah, I know...priorities. So I wear a long green corduroy skirt and my denim jacket comes only to my waist, barely hiding the copper rayon blouse. Two days...that's all it would have taken...just two fucking days, but no...someone got pissed and nuked a couple of cities, and before it's all over, mass hysteria, price gouging, shortages and a huge radioactive hole in the ground where my surgery was supposed to take place... Thank heavens for small favors.

I walked around front and sighed deeply, glad that both my bike and my cat were still where I left them. As I stepped up to the window of the store I thought I saw something or someone out of the corner of my eye. Looking around, I couldn't see anything, so I returned my attention to the store front. I used my jacket sleeve to rub the dust off the window; the jacket hadn't been washed in quite some time so no big deal. As I peered into the store, a voice startled me.

"You're not gonna find anything in there, Miss." Turning around I noticed a young man, about ten or so years younger than me, which make him about twenty-three.

"Cleaned out?" I asked warily.

"It was closed way before the fertilizer hit the fan...owner's wife upped and left him and he didn't see much point... put a 9 mil to his head and that's all she wrote..."

"Sad...you know any place around here that's back on line with stuff?" I looked down the road; maybe a truck would come along while we spoke.

"There's a co-op opened up in Farmville... maybe you can get some stuff there. Like an apple?" He held out his hand and produced a Fuji...I know this because it still had the little sticker on it.

"Thank you."

"You're a guy?" He said it with a smile.

"No...I'm not a guy." I looked at myself in the window reflection; who was I kidding. I felt too tall, too heavy and the only thing keeping me from looking like a prospector was the nice laser job I had gotten three months before my future went away.

"I know what you are...you're a transsexual..." He was a wealth of information, I thought, but he laughed and spoke.

"You're pretty for a guy, you know that?" He smiled again and I got scared. Great...no hope for a vagina and rape; what a wonderful combination. I stepped back and grabbed a bottle off the ground and waved it menacingly.

"That's plastic, Miss...it really won't be very effective, but I'm not going to hurt you, anyway.. You see, we're in the same boat, we are. And I think we can help each other."

"What do you mean?" I said it slowly and haltingly and loud. Damn it, I could do a great Shatner, but jus then wasn't the time.

"Well, you need food and I know where the apples are." I nodded warily waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"What's in it for you?" A brilliant riposte.

"Just some companionship...oh nothing too involved, but I think we've got a lot of laughing at God over this before it'll be all over." He laughed a bit, but his eyes looked sad.

"What do you mean...all over?" Harlan popped his head out from under the towel in the basket and meowed, as if he was asking along with me.

"I heard that the fallout will drift this way...we'll all get sick...if it's thick, it'll be fast...still hurt like hell before it's all over. If it's thin...take more time...hurt a lot more but still it'll be all over." He shook his head.

I had heard the same rumor two towns ago. Maybe it was foolish, but it was all I had hoped for...a future maybe to get to Des Moines...I had relatives there and I had heard it had been missed. I wondered if they had any good surgeons in Iowa. Still, maybe, perhaps....

"So you and me...we can be together. Oh don't worry. I'm...I can't...you know? So it would just be cuddling and spooning...like our great-grandparents might have done. That's not so bad, is it?" It was the best offer I'd get all Millenium, and I was desperate.

"What's your name?" He asked and I knew he meant 'my' name.

"Jenna...Jenna Swindoll...you?" I held out my hand. He took it and smiled.

"Michael Hughes." He shook my hand tentatively before adding,

"Leastwise it would be if the bomb hadn't blown up my surgeon...born Millicent." He laughed; the joke definitely was on us, but then the punch line wasn't so bad.

"Well, Michael, I believe we can certainly consider embarking on a new and wondrous relationship in the short time we have together." He laughed and pulled me close for a kiss, standing only a wee bit on tip toe to reach my welcoming mouth. Harlan mewed once before hopping out of the bike. He spotted a gray tabby and took off. We didn't see him for three weeks.

Oh...and the fallout? It blew out to sea where it was dispatched providentially by a huge thunderstorm that carried the dust into the ocean. Probably some barracuda with bleeding gums somewhere. And me and Michael. Well, the crisis being what it was, the money and banks and such took a couple of years to come back, and by then, the two of us had figured out how to make things...fit. The Mayor in Farmville was still alive, and we tied the knot in 2024. Michael wears the pants and I found this lovely floral print; reds and pinks on a white background...nice satin lining, and some sandals...leather with a cork sole...very nice.



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