The beginning of the end

Tiffany and Christian were flabbergasted as they looked around the room. Four couples were having oral sex in their support group about a sex plague, including one disarmingly attractive and vocal woman, and more men and women had left their seats, seemingly fixed on partners for the night. Elena headed for Father Cho. Alex and Carla, who she still knew as Bob and Renee, strangely went separate ways, Alex intersecting with Mahmoud at Valerie and Carla with a hand now on Frank's shoulder. What was the well-matched couple doing with two middle-aged folks on the brink of the apocalypse?

That left... the three women headed their way: bright Deedee, quiet Mia and sharp-edged Niamh. The trio smiled shyly and stopped in front of them.

"We don't want you left out of whatever this is," Deedee said, as if they were refraining from a game at a party and not seeming madness.

"We ... we should go," Tiffany told the women. "We got what we needed tonight, I think."

Deedee leaned in and lowered her voice. "Are you sure? It's about to get fun at last. Look at Miranda deep-throat that monster." The pair's gaze swung helplessly to the black woman, who was somehow squeezing all of Jamal down her throat in a messy blowjob. Her top lay discarded next to her as she slurped her partner's cock. "Look at Quinn letting herself go." Again they swiveled to see the shy woman mashing Shawn's head against her pussy. Her legs quivered and back arched as he brought her to anther orgasm. "And I bet that man-bun guy is going to mount Alison any second." As if on cue, the woman stopped sucking off Stefan and spun around with a smile, lowering her torso to the floor and wiggling her ass in the air. He slapped the cheeks a few times and then peeled down her pants, diving between her legs for a taste. Straightening up, he plunged into her pussy and started pounding her at a torrid pace.

"We'll take care of you," Mia said, her fingers tracing along Tiffany's arm. "We'll make you feel really good," Niamh added in her pleasant accent, a contrast to the tough appearance lent by a handful of nose, ear and lip piercings on the black-haired woman.

"Sorry, we really need to go. This isn't for us," Tiffany said, pulling Christian with her. Mentally she berated herself for getting into this position in the first place. If they had left when Violet broke down, they wouldn't have seen all this depravity. She stopped in her tracks. Violet was bouncing on a flush Chet, telling him to use her pussy and make her a demonic fuckslut. Miranda was also astride Jamal on a chair, riding him reverse cowgirl. Her small bare breasts shook as she impaled herself on his impressive cock. Mahmoud and Alex improbably were taking turns kissing Valerie, their hands wandering over her body. Carla and Frank were kissing while her hand worked his cock. And Elena grinded atop Father Cho, facing the holy man while she trailed her fingers along his body and dry humped his crotch.

"We kind of insist you stay," Niamh said from behind Tiffany, laying her hands on her shoulders. "Relax a little," Deedee said, pulling on Tiffany's arm. She felt anything but relaxed as she was separated from Christian and led back toward the chairs. She watched as Mia led her boyfriend to a chair and sat him down on it as if he'd been a bad boy. She goggled as Mia put a foot on his chest and slowly peeled down the straps of her sundress. She pulled the top past the shelf of her breasts and out they popped, mocha and delectably full. And then Mia trapped his face amid her boobs, shaking them back and forth and laughing. "Don't worry about your man. Let us give you what you really need," Niamh purred, a chill rushing up Tiffany's spine.

She lunged desperately for Christian again, panic overtaking shock, but the women were quicker. Niamh grabbed her waist and Deedee an arm.

"Nuh, unh," Deedee said. "Mia's got him. And we've got you." The women pulled her to the ground. Niamh planted a hand firmly in the shallow valley of her breasts, and Deedee draped herself over her legs. She drew up the hem of Tiffany's shirt and started kissing and licking the smooth flesh of her stomach. The trail of her kisses was warm, too warm. Niamh rubbed one of her breasts. "Nice, ain't it?" she said.

"This isn't right," Tiffany replied. Though chaste, she and Christian had cuddled, touched each other intimately. But it felt nothing like this. Her breath hitched. Deedee's hand had slid into her pants, cupped her mound possessively over her undies. All while she continued to lay kisses on Tiffany's stomach. Niamh squeezed both of Tiffany's breasts now. "You've got some nice yummy tits here."

If she had been a neutral observer of the evening — always a fictional thing but especially so in such a charged atmosphere — Tiffany might have marveled at how quickly the situation had flipped. Two men had held down a woman whose libido was in overdrive a short while ago, the rest of the room a perfect picture of normalcy, and now two women were holding down one of the last people to not lose their head. Tiffany's mind, however, was occupied with the swirls and taps of Deedee's hand, her lazy kisses, Niamh toying with her breasts. The sounds of the rest of the room, the grunts and squeals and sighs and curses, the shuffling feet and squeaks and thumps, were irrelevant, since her world had narrowed to the existence allowed by her jailers. Even Christian was hard to worry about under the women's persistent touches.

And then Deedee's fingers breached her panties and she yipped. Warmth rolled over her slit, her clit, as Deedee brought her to a simmer. And then Niamh rolled her shirt up, freed her handfuls of breast from their polka-dotted bra for more slow licks and nips and kisses. And Tiffany got warmer. Her thoughts slowed, as if all the heat from her body was steaming it over. It was just a nice, intimate massage.

And then came the scream that cut through the fog.