Postapocalyptic reality 10 / page: 161 - Erotic story Collection

This is a continuation:

Postapocalyptic reality 1
http://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-1-640119

Postapocalyptic reality 2
http://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-2-652696

Postapocalyptic reality 3
http://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-3-664235

Postapocalyptic reality 4
http://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-4-702206

Postapocalyptic reality 5
http://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-5-758359

Postapocalyptic reality 6
http://xhamster.com/posts/772750

Postapocalyptic reality 7
http://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-7-799381

Postapocalyptic reality 8
https://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-8-845073

Postapocalyptic reality 9
https://xhamster.com/stories/postapocalyptic-reality-9-877337

Postapocalyptic reality 10

Jenny must have passed out for a while, because the next thing she knew was she was being awoken by a do-og roughly licking her face. It had worked! Just at the right moment, Jenny had pulled the pin from the plasma grenade and rammed it right up the rutting Deathclaws' asshole. Exploding close to the monster might have badly injured it (and her too), but exploding inside its gut was instant death for the creature.

Jenny staggered to her feet, feeling quite dizzy. She wasn't sure if that was due to the bump on the head, the rigorous fucking she had just had, or the incredible high of the double whammy of having sex with a Deathclaw, and killing one for the first time in her life.

Sure, she'd seen dead Deathclaws before – usually killed by a dozen well armed and experienced guards or hunters. She had killed hers single handed. Okay – maybe her method was a little unorthodox, but it worked.

She ventured out slowly, looking out for any more mo-nsters before calling Rocket and Grey from their hiding places. They were a little apprehensive at first, but after sniffing at it they were soon wolfing down slightly scorched Deathclaw meat. Jenny grabbed its' dick as a memento, then considered what else might be useful. It was too big and heavy to drag back home, but she knew that people would pay good caps for a Deathclaw hand, and she was definitely going to yank those teeth if she couldn’t carry the head home.

It seemed a shame that most of the meat would go to waste, but she did skin the b**st and keep the hide. She then tried to cut off the head, which was not as easy as she thought (and she thought it would be hard in any case). She had a pretty decent hunting knife, but the scaly neck was almost impossible to cut through without a really good saw. She thought of trying to burn through with her laser pistol, but it's an over-powered weapon, not a precision instrument and too much radiation can cause a chain reaction that could just turn the whole body into a pile of ashes.

Eventually, she found an old axe in the ruins of the hardware store and managed to hack the head off. She hadn't decided yet whether she was going to mount the head on a wall, or stick it outside as a warning to anyone considering trespassing on her territory. She had given up on a subtle hidden lair when she built the fence. That is just advertising her presence, so she was considering putting a few heads on spikes to make anyone getting too curious think it was Raider territory.

By this time, it was getting a bit too late to make the trip home – particularly with a heavy burden. Feral Ghouls tended to roam around towns and cities after nightfall, and this was unfamiliar ground. The store provided decent shelter, and she had food. To be safer, she tried to drag the remains of the Deathclaw a few yards away to the other side of the street, but it was too heavy to move. She didn't want to leave it in the doorway – for one thing it would attract vermin, and she was planning on staying the night in the store.

Of course, it was very likely that the Deathclaw had killed all the ghouls in the area, but some may have had enough wits to hide from it, and there are other dangers too. Apart from Mirelurks, Mole-rats, Yao-Guai, and giant bugs, there could have been more than one Deathclaw. She had no idea how long it had ruled this domain – for all she knew a horde of Raiders could be on their way back with reinforcements and enough fire-power to take down a dozen Deathclaws. It would be foolhardy to risk travelling in the dark with a load.

She considered looking for another building to hide in until morning, but again – that means exploring in darkness, and more risky than staying where she was. At least anything trying to get into the store would have to climb over the remains of the Deathclaw first. Many Outlanders had developed very good night vision, but Jenny wasn't one of them. Her night vision wasn't much better than that of the average settler, putting her at a disadvantage. Besides – she was tired from her ordeal, and her belly was aching. She clutched at it as it gurgled, and she realised that she still had a womb full of congealing Deathclaw cum. She squatted in a corner and tried to squirt out the giant reptiles deposit, but only a few splodges came out. She didnt think for one moment that there was any danger of getting pregnant – as far as she knew she couldn't get pregnant by another species and she was certain that Deathclaws carried no human DNA. But all the same, she didn’t want the mon-sters jizz inside her, so using the plastic handle of a large screwdriver, she began to masturbate until her vagina was dilated and gaping wide enough for the juices to start flowing.

At first, Rocket (who was exploring nearby) became curious, and came closer with the intention of helping to relieve Jenny, but then recoiled as he smelled the strong musk of the Deathclaw cum that was now dripping from her excited cunt. The plastic handle was cold though, as was the chilled air that was creeping into the darkening store. What she needed was a proper fucking with a big hot dick. And a little warmth in the place.

Making a fire was another risk, but an icy mist was setting in, and she was feeling bitterly cold. Another good reason to set camp where she stood. There was plenty of debris and old wood to make a small fire that would keep her warm and roast a bit of Deathclaw steak. Right now she could really do with a bowl of that nice hot stew, but she didn’t have any cooking pots with her, nor any vegetables apart from a tato. A year ago, she would never travel this far from a base camp without the means to cook up a proper meal, but then that was before she moved to this area, and she was almost always no more than an hours walk from a camp. She needed to set up a few refuge camps again.

She didn't want the do-ogs getting into any trouble, so she called them to her, and they happily responded. Gathering around a warm fire was always better than skulking outside in the cold, and by now they all associated a camp fire with warmth and safety. They were not wild dogs anymore.

Jenny had cleared an area in the middle of the ground floor and built the fire on a heap of plaster. She didn’t want to accidentally set fire to the store, and though the upper floors were potentially safer from attack, a fire on the upper floor would attract more attention and could get out of control. Also, the roof was destroyed, so the upper floors were more exposed to the elements.

She hugged Alfred as he sat next to her. His fur was cold and damp – probably due to the cold winter fog outside. She threw another chair leg onto the fire, and d****d a blanket over her own shoulders and Alfred. She had the foresight to bring a blanket with her, because she knew there was a chance she might be out overnight, and it is Winter now. Besides, blankets have many uses, and there was no guarantee of finding one whilst scavving. It is rare to find an old world blanket – most rotted and fell to pieces long ago, and those that were good have mostly been found by now. The only good blankets around now are either scavenged from Vaults, or hand made. Most Outlanders (even Raiders) are proficient with a needle and thread, and some farms and communities even have looms and weave their own fabrics.

She noticed that Grey was licking Torro, and soon they were all licking each other's pelt. Of course! The blood of the Deathclaw would be rather salty, and though well fed, the dogs were probably quite thirsty and the mist had formed a dew on their fur. Jenny was aware she was feeling a little thirsty herself, so took a swig from the bottle of water she was carrying, and then filled a plastic bowl for the dogs to drink from. Lucky they had taken refuge in a hardware store – there was everything they needed in here.

Such a shame the store was fairly large and had so many holes in the ceiling and windows. If it were a smaller space, it would be possible to heat the room up a little more. The small fire was barely enough to keep them warm whilst huddled close to it, so they weren’t really any warmer than if they had been camping outside. Jenny felt sure the building would have a basement, but even if it is still accessible, finding the way in would be a challenge. She had a torch with her, but again didnt want to draw attention to herself any more than she needed to, and .. well there were many excuses, but the truth was she was cold and tied, and just wanted to stay by the fire with her do-ogs (who judging from the gentle wisps of steam rising from them were getting warm now.

She hugged Alfred tighter, feeling the warmth of his body. She wasn't adequately dressed for this weather – she was more dressed for action, which as it turned out was a good thing, but now she was feeling the chill breeze bite into her. The heat of the fire burned her face, but her hands and feet were still frozen. She ran her hands through Alfred’s fur as she cuddled him, and felt warmed. As her hand glided up and down his warm tummy and down to his shaggy sheath, the tip of his penis began to emerge. Now that is what she wanted inside her.

She slid her fingers around his sheath and squeezed – she could feel his warm bone pulse and grow. Looking down, she could see the red meaty member emerge and gazed at it lovingly.

“Okay – do me Alfy.” she said as she got down onto her hands and knees in preparation. Alfred didn't need any more coaxing – he immediately mounted her back and began thrusting his groin at her exposed rear. As soon as she felt the hot tip strike her cheek, she moved her hips so that his next thrust would hit the target. She gasped with pleasure as the warm torpedo parted her cunny lips and sank inside her. Once he was in, he stepped a little closer and thrust deeper and harder.

Jenny moaned as the big hound buried his bone deep into her sticky hole, and swayed her hips back towards him to meet his thrusts. She was already feeling warmer with his shaggy fur covering her back and buttocks, but now his hot cock was warming her inside too.

She turned her head sideways and could see their flickering shadows on the wall, cast by the firelight, painting an animated cartoon on the fading painted plaster of a big do-og fucking a human woman. She could see the silhouette of her tits sway back and forth with each thrust as the dog and woman seemed to merge as one undulating mass of sexual congress.

Alfred's hammering became faster and stronger until with one painful slam he rammed his kn-ot inside her quim, making her gasp loudly. For a few moments he continued to buck his hips, but his thrusts were shorter as he could not pull the kn-ot out of her even if he wanted to, and could only sink his swelling organ a little deeper inside her yielding cunt.

Eventually he stopped thrusting, but she could feel the kn-ot swelling bigger as his huge cock throbbed inside her filled well of pleasure. Jenny shook with spasms of pleasure as the spreading warmth of the do-gs semen filled her belly with fire, and despite trying to be careful, she lost control and screamed in delight.

Her arms gave way, and she slumped down exhausted as Alfred clutched her waist and lower belly in his powerful pa-ws, his penis throbbing with every fresh spurt of hot do-oggy cum that swelled her belly, mixing with what was left of the Deathclaws congealing cum.

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