Warden's Domain
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2004 by Robber Baron

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 3 - With the permission of GoldenMage, this is a story in the Wizard's Realm Universe by another author. If you aren't familiar with that universe, you might want to take a look at it to help understand where this story starts; just after the plague strikes. No sex in the first couple of chapters.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Science Fiction   Harem   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex  

Ronnie turned to look at him, her eyes filled with tears, "Matt, that was lovely," she said, moving toward him. Immediately, Bree stepped in front, hugging the big ex-Marine, her head against his chest. Looking up at him, her blue eyes shiny with tears, "Oh, thank you, Matt," Bree whispered, her voice full of emotion.

Suddenly aware of Bree's slim body against him, gently pushing her away, "Bree, you're too close. I'm all sweaty, I need a shower. I know I must smell pretty bad."

Her blue eyes looking up at him, "I don't think you smell so bad," Bree said, smiling. "You smell like a man."

"A real man," Ronnie said, her dark eyes on Matt.

"This is one man who needs a shower," Matt said withdrawing from Bree. "But first, we need to put the tools away."

They carried the tools back to where the vehicles were parked and cleaned them for storage. "Let's put some in my Land Rover," Matt said. "You never know, we might need them in the future." After the tools were put away, Matt left to take his shower.

Standing under the flow of tepid water, Matt couldn't believe how good he felt. He didn't feel the kind of muscle strain he would expect after digging for hours. And he wasn't feeling any bad effects from the plague, in fact, he felt better than he'd felt in years, maybe better than he'd ever felt.

Back at his tent, Matt dressed in a t-shirt and khaki shorts, with flip-flops for his feet. He shaved, thinking it might help them get an early start for San Carmena tomorrow morning. Usually, the drive could be made in a day, but he wasn't sure what they might encounter on the road.

Back at the cook tent, Ronnie asked him if he wanted a beer. He said he did, and when she handed the can to him, sitting next to him on the bench, "Matt," pausing as he turned toward her, "Would it be okay if Bree and I slept in your tent again tonight?"

While Matt was thinking what to answer, Bree, who was cutting up vegetables on the other side of the table, said, "Matt, I don't think it's possible for me to spend the night in that tent where... where Linda died, and Ronnie too. And besides, our mattresses are still in your tent."

Laughing, "Alright, we'll be in San Carmena by tomorrow night anyway."

It didn't take long to fix dinner. The girls stir-fried chicken with fruit and vegetables and chilies, then served it over rice for a meal as much Asian as it was Mexican. Ronnie got a bottle of chilled wine out of the cooler, pouring a glass for herself and Matt. "Matt, can I have some wine too?" Bree asked.

Matt wondering why she was directing the question to him, looked over to Ronnie. Seeing her give a slight nod, Matt answered, "Okay, but just a little."

"Thanks, Matt," Bree said as Ronnie poured half a glass of wine for her. "You know, I'm pretty mature now," looking at him over the rim of her glass.

"I know," he replied, again wondering if they were focusing on him because he was the only man around.

They enjoyed their meal together, the food was good and they found they enjoyed each other's company. They felt better now, more alive, more normal. It was as though the funeral and the ceremony and the communal meal had lifted from them the burden of the deaths and the plague and their fear of the future.

"Matt, do you have any children?" Bree asked, taking another sip of wine. Matt had always been fairly reticent about his personal life, but now, as happened earlier, he found himself being drawn out by Ronnie and Bree.

"I have... had three. I suppose they're probably gone now, from the plague, like seems to have happened everywhere - a son and a daughter, from my first marriage, and then another son from my second marriage, and luckily, none from the last."

"Matt, how many times were you married?" Bree asked.

Before he could answer, Ronnie asked, "So, are... were you... were you married before this happened?"

Matt's gaze moved from Bree's smiling face to stare for a second at Ronnie, "I've been married and divorced three times. The last time was to Clare, Clarita, in Cancun. I wasn't a kid any more and she was older too, divorced with a couple of kids of her own, so I was hoping this time it would work but..."

Ronnie's dark eyes stared at him. "Matt, I can guess how you feel about... about your marriages. But it's like you said before, at the funeral, this is a new beginning for the world, and for us, for all of us. It's our chance to... to get it right this time," her voice heavy with emotion. "This time, we know the mistakes we made, the mistakes with government, and economics, and society, and with relations between the races and between men and women, and... and we're just gonna make it... make the world over now... make it a better world now, for all of us, and for the future."

"Ronnie, that's beautiful," Bree said. Matt said nothing, just stared into Ronnie's dark eyes as she stared back at him.

Dropping her gaze, Ronnie smiled, then said, "Well if we're gonna make a new world, let's start by clearing the table. The light's almost gone, and Bree and I still need to shower."

Matt standing, picking up dishes, "You two go take your showers, I'll take care of this."

"Matt, you don't need..." Ronnie started to say, before he interrupted.

"No, you go take your showers," Matt smiled. "I'm in charge. You two take your showers, I'll clear the table."

"Thanks Matt," Ronnie said looking at him.

"Matt, you're just... just great," Bree said, quickly swallowing the last of her wine before pressing herself against him, giving him a big kiss on the cheek. At a word from Ronnie, they started walking across the campground.

He watched them walk to Ronnie's tent, getting a change of clothes and their other things, then to the tent Bree had shared with Linda, before they walked to Matt's tent. Soon, he saw the glow of a lantern coming from inside.

Matt turned to finish clearing the table in the fading light. He scraped the extra food into a plastic bag for burial, then dumped the dishes into a large pan of water to be washed tomorrow. All at once, he realized they didn't need to worry about washing the dishes. "We'll probably never come back here again," he told himself.

By now, it was nearly dark, with the only light coming from the last slanting rays of the sun high above the jungle. Matt lit a Coleman lantern, and taking a flashlight, buried the plastic bag with the food scraps in the garbage pit. When he got back to the cook tent, he turned on the battery powered lamp hanging above the table, got a beer, then turned on the short-wave, searching for anything he could bring in and in a language he could understand.

When he pulled in one of the VOA English language stations, he heard the announcer explain that the plague had killed off almost one hundred percent of the very young and the very old, and the majority of the rest of humanity, but physicians now believed it had run its course, that those who had survived so far were probably going to make it. Then the announcer started talking about flying dragons and that fellow Manix, the supposed wizard. "BULLSHIT!" Matt said out loud, switching off the radio in disgust.

Matt had heard stories about the wizard and his flying dragons before the plague, but didn't believe any of them. The only explanation he could come up with was it was a hoax, or now, after everything that had happened, maybe some kind of mass hysteria. He lit a cigarette, but finding that again he wasn't getting what he expected from the tobacco, ground it out after a couple of drags.

He saw the light go out at the bath-house, then the girls walking toward him, Ronnie lighting their way with her flashlight. When they got closer, into the circle of light around the cook tent, he could see they were dressed identically - in white t-shirts, towels around their waists, flip-flops on their feet. He couldn't help staring for a second as it was clear that both girls were braless, Ronnie's big breasts flowing inside her shirt, Bree's pointy little tits tenting out the front of her shirt.

With effort, Matt averted his gaze as Ronnie sat down next to him, putting her flashlight and her bundle of clothes and toiletries on the table. Bree went to the other side, opening the cooler, taking out the wine. She got three empty cups, then noticing Matt with the can of beer, she asked, "Do you want some wine, Matt?"

"I've got my beer. Do you think you should be having more?"

Half filling two cups, "It's just a little... see, just to help calm me and Ronnie after everything that's happened, and to help us fall asleep. Besides, today isn't the first time I had wine. I had it before, with my mom and dad. And you said I was mature."

Seeing Ronnie smile at him, Matt couldn't help himself from smiling at Bree's outburst. "Alright," he said. "Just half a cup, and then to bed."

"Yes sir, colonel," Bree said, bringing the two cups of wine and sitting on his other side. Turning to look into Matt's face, her voice low with emotion, "Sir, whatever you want, we'll do it."

Matt, not knowing what to make of this, turned to Ronnie, seeing her eyes looking at him as intensely as Bree's. "Okay, uhh... that's good to know, but I'm a major, not a colonel."

Ronnie's eyes shifted to his chest, "I... I thought Carter said you were a colonel." Immediately followed by Bree asking "Is a major better than a colonel?"

Smiling at Bree, "A colonel is higher than a major. When I retired from the Marines I was a major, and they promoted me to lieutenant colonel at my retirement."

"That must have been to honor you," Bree said, finishing her wine. "Anyway, I'd rather have you in charge of us than a hundred colonels," reaching for the bottle of wine.

Matt grabbing the bottle before Bree could get it, "Remember, just half a cup."

"Well, I guess that's gotta be enough. Anyway, I'm feeling pretty tired after all that work."

"And after all the wine," Ronnie interjected.

"Yeah, I'm about ready to collapse," Bree said with a yawn.

Matt, looked at his watch, "It's past eight-thirty. You two go to bed now. We need to get an early start tomorrow. I'll there in a while."

"Yes sir, major, you're the boss," Bree said, standing.

"Whatever you say, Matt," Ronnie echoed, also standing, picking up the flashlight and bundle.

As Ronnie started walking toward the tent, Bree bent toward Matt, giving him big, wet kiss on the cheek, before turning and heading across the campground with a whispered "Night... "

He sat at the table, slowly drinking his beer, thinking about Ronnie and Bree's actions. He didn't know exactly what it was, but something was happening, he was sure of that. Whether it was because he was the only man around, or because they knew he would protect them, or both, it seemed they were becoming more submissive, willing to please him, to do whatever he wanted, and he wasn't sure how he should respond to their new attitude.

After a few minutes, he saw the lantern in the tent go out, to be replaced by a much dimmer light - it was the small battery lamp on his foot locker. He thought about what could happen spending the night with them, now that he was free of the plague and with the energy of a teenager. Closing his eyes, he began to empty his mind, almost meditating, until all thoughts, all images of the two disappeared from his consciousness.

He waited a while longer, finishing his beer. He checked his watch, it was after nine. "They should be asleep by now," he told himself. He turned out the lantern, then dimmed the battery powered lamp hanging above the table until there was just a faint, yellow glow shining over the table.

He walked to the tent, his flashlight lighting the way. Opening the tent flap, he saw that his cot had been folded up and pushed against the wall. There were now three mattresses on the floor, with Bree and Ronnie asleep on either side, and the center mattress - for him - vacant.

As soon as Matt realized the sexual potential of the sleeping arrangement, he put it out of his mind. Besides, they were already asleep, lying on their sides, each facing away from the center toward opposite walls of the tent. They were wearing the t-shirts they had put on after bathing, each with a sheet covering her lower body. He paused staring down at them: Ronnie, lying on her left side, her large bosom rising and falling with her breathing, Bree on her right side, her long, blonde hair hiding her face, her slim form outlined by the sheet.

As he aimed his flashlight at the floor, Bree moved, turning slightly in her sleep, one thin foot poking out of the bottom of the sheet into the ring of light. He stared for a moment at the pink-painted toenails, the polish chipped and worn. Suddenly, he felt welling up inside him an intense feeling of sympathy for the girls, at the difficulty they must be facing in trying to maintain their femininity during the hardships they were experiencing.

He closed the tent flap, checked his forty-five was hanging in its holster from the pole where he left it, turned out the flashlight, and lay down on the middle mattress. He unbuttoned the waistband of his shorts and slid the zipper halfway down. As he reached over Bree to turn off the battery lamp, she turned toward him. "Can't we leave it on, just for now?" she asked, her sleepy eyes on his face.

"If you'll feel safer..."

Smiling, "I feel safe with you here, but the light helps too. Uhh, Matt, thanks for taking care of us," she whispered with a sigh. Then everything was quiet except for the soft breathing of the two young women. Matt turned on his side and was asleep


Matt awoke in the middle of the night. He didn't know exactly what time it was, but he knew from his internal clock that it was past midnight. He was lying on his left side, his right arm over Ronnie, his hand cradling her heavy breast, the nipple erect, pressing into his palm through the fabric of her shirt. And he was hard, his cock like an iron rod, straining against his shorts, against Ronnie's buttocks, as she pushed back against him.

Ronnie, too, was awake, awakened by Matt's hand on her breast, and by his hard cock pressing into her backside. Suddenly turning onto her side to face him, without a word, with only the sound of her breathing, she moved closer, throwing her bare leg over him.

Matt reached out, touching her waist, running his fingers up, over her ribs, finally arriving again at those big breasts. As he squeezed her fleshy tit, Ronnie moaned softly. Then breathing deeply as Matt's big hand kneaded her breast, she slid forward until her face was next to his. Still without speaking, she stared into his blue eyes, he staring back, seeing her dark eyes even darker in the shadowed light. Her lips opening, she pressed her mouth to his, kissing him deeply, their lips opening, their tongues meeting.

Enfolding Ronnie in his strong arms, pulling her tight, their tongues entwining, Matt felt Bree at his back, pressing her slim body to his, kissing, licking his neck, seemingly wanting, needing him as much as Ronnie seemed to want and need him. For an instant, he wondered how it could happen that these two young women seemed so willing to give themselves to him, but then overcome with desire, the thought slipped from his mind as his attention was focused on the sensations their mouths, their hands, their bodies were bringing him as they kissed and caressed him.

For Ronnie and Bree, there was no question, no thought. All they could feel was their need to surrender themselves to this strong man they knew would protect and care for them and to whom they would willingly give all they could.

Breaking from the kiss, both Matt and Ronnie breathing hard, he tightened his arms around Ronnie holding her close to his chest, then quickly turning onto his back, he pulled her on top of him. By now, his khaki shorts had worked their way down his legs, and Ronnie moaned softly at the sensation of his hard cock, still inside his jockey shorts, pressing tight against her cotton covered pussy.

Grabbing the bottom of her shirt, Matt tugged up, baring Ronnie's large breasts. They were so large he wondered for a second if they could be implants, but when he cradled the heavy flesh in his hands, he knew they were genuine. Smiling down at him, slipping the shirt off, over her head, "You like?" Ronnie whispered.

"I love them," he breathed, his actions soon proving it as his hands seemed to go crazy with their own mad desire squeezing, rubbing, pinching the heavy breasts, the taut nipples. Ronnie, thrusting her tits into his hands, gasping, moaning, rubbing herself against his hard cock. At his side, Bree was making soft, mewling sounds as she kissed and licked his neck and ear and cheek.

Matt's hands moved down, over Ronnie's waist, surprisingly slim, cupping the full buttocks, then sliding over her hips, to touch her vee, her arousal betrayed by the dampness of her cotton panties His fingers touching, pressing into her, "I want this... You... Now. Take these off," he commanded pulling down on the elastic waistband, his voice low.

Without a word, a small smile on her lips, Ronnie straightened her legs for an instant, then with a quick movement, slid her panties off, tossing them aside before again positioning herself astride Matt.

Matt stared at the beautiful young Latina - the long, brown hair, streaked from the sun, falling in soft waves to the top of the full bosom, her heart-shaped face, her large dark slightly slanted eyes, high cheek bones, and aquiline nose, hinting at her Indian ancestry. Her figure was fabulous, a slim waist, rounded hips, the large breasts, only affected a little by gravity, the dark aureoles seemed nearly as big as saucers, totally covering the tips, the small nipples already erect with her arousal.

Ronnie arched her back, thrusting out her bosom toward him, while continuing to slowly rub, grind herself against Matt's erection, still restrained inside his jockey shorts. Smiling, reaching out to pull up on the hem of Matt's t-shirt, "Now this needs to come off," Ronnie whispered. Quickly, with Bree helping, his shirt was pulled up, over his head, and tossed into the shadows.

Ronnie breathed in deeply at the sight of Matt's taut body, the broad shoulders, the muscular chest, the curly black hair in the center running down over the flat belly to join the line of coarser hair visible just above his shorts. Raising herself, moving back a little, she stared for a second at the hard cock straining against the fabric of his shorts. Crouching above him, she touched that hard lump with her hand. As Matt gasped in response, she stared into his face, into his blue eyes, "And now this needs to be off," she breathed, catching the waistband of his jockeys, tugging down on the elastic.

With Matt raising his butt, within seconds his shorts were off and tossed into the corner. As his cock popped out, a thick column of rigid male flesh standing up from his groin, Bree cried out in surprise, while Ronnie gasped, "Oh Matt..."

Matt, feeling he had never been so aroused, raised his head, glancing down at his hard cock, more rigid, more erect than he had ever experienced, looking even longer, even thicker than it had ever been, the skin seemingly stretched so tight that a slight upward bend had been forced into its length, something he had never before noticed. He wondered for a moment if his penis could be changing too, like the other changes that seemed to be happening. But then as Ronnie pressed her swollen labia against his shaft, he put the thought out of his mind as he was overwhelmed by desire for this beautiful young woman.

Matt's hands moved over Ronnie's body as she knelt above him, touching her thighs, stroking the firm, fleshy buttocks, up to touch her waist, down to caress her inner thighs, then, slowly, tentatively, touching her pubis. Finding the curly hair trimmed into a vertical line a little stubbly at the edges, he was reminded of the chipped polish on Bree's toenails and how difficult it must be for the girls to remain well groomed under the conditions they were living in, and dealing with the plague and its victims.

Ronnie's eyes were closed, her breathing loud as crouching above him, she pressed herself against the hard male organ between her thighs. As Matt's fingertips touched, stroked her moist labia, Ronnie breathed in deeply through her nose. Her eyes opening, she looked at Matt, first into his blue eyes, then down to his broad chest, until bending her head a little, she looked at Matt's large cock absolutely erect between her spread thighs. She moved her hand, touching with her fingertip the broad head, the white precum bubbling out of the slit urethra.

Matt's breathing was growing ragged as Ronnie gently caressed his cock - just the head, touching, stroking with her fingertips, enjoying the feel of the soft skin slick with precum.

He pressed the tip of one finger into Ronnie's vagina, touching the moist inner flesh, Ronnie breathing more deeply, and then gasping as he circled with his fingertip her clitoris, rising out of its hood. Seeing her dark eyes filled with lust, "Come on, now. I want this... I want You... Now," Mat said, his voice husky, bucking up his hips, pressing, rubbing his hard length against her.

 
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