Chapter 44 - Riot

Don't cause trouble just because your cock says to.

S he tasted like candy.

We didn't get a whole lot of sweet stuff outherein the wastelands, but on the rare occasion I did, I remembered it. Eleanor's cheek tasted sweet. Everything about her was sweet. It took everything in me to keep my cock down when she came into thekitchen and startedasking questions. God, her innocence was too...

I was disgusted with myself over the thoughts running through my mind on loop. She'd been created for pedophiles, fed drugs to keep her hairlessand forced to dress in little girl clothes. Even her voice, while slightly scratchy, had a playful pitch to it. I was sick. But if I was sick for thinking thosethoughts, what was Callahan for acting on them?

I sat with my thoughts all day in the junkyard. I went back and forth with myself, my cock growing hard and soft and hard again. She didn'tlook like a little girl in the kitchen. Other than how clean and clear her skin was, she looked like any other woman from above. Give her a few scratches, scars, and tattoos and no one would be the wiser. She could hide in plain sight.

I looked down at my gloved hands; I was glad I thought to slide them on right before she came into the kitchen this morning so they covered the tattoo of her name. I didn't want to scare her away.

Halfway through the afternoon I was joined by Callahan.

"I thought you said your sister and some friends lived here too," he said, coming over and crouching down beside me. I slid my roller back and turned to look up at him.

"They do. They went exploring. Soda heard about a new robotics store over in Abbadon and wanted to check it out. They'll be back in a day or so."

"Abbadon?"

"A few towns over. It's mostly a ghost town, butthere's one large building that used to be a superstore, you know, before the bombs. Every year or so someone comes in and sets up shop in it for a while."

"What's a superstore?"

I huffed. Explaining every little thing about the world was exhausting. I sat up and put my wrench down.

"Cal, what year did they tell you the bombs were dropped?" I'd noticed some things that weren't quite rightwith the people from thebunkers. The clothes they wore,the things they said, and the songs they hummed. Our timelines didn't add up.

"1962, why?" he asked. I shook myhead. I'd been right.

"Callahan, the bombs didn't drop until 2010."

A slow smile spread across his face.

"What are you talking about? No they didn't.In 1950 the world's greatest leaders decided it was time to start preparing for the war to end all wars. They prepared their military above, and below the surface, they began to build. In 1961, they began the selection process. All across our glorious nation, they chose the best and brightest, filling the city with the ideal human race.The bunker had only been sealed for 13 weeks when the bombs dropped in 1962, completely destroying our beautiful country," he rattled off as if reciting from a book. He shook his head at me and smiled again. "There's no way it could have happened like you say."

I stood and wiped my oily hands on my jeans. "Well it did. Your bunker lied to you. Maybe that was another one of the experiments and have you guyssurvive living forever in that time period."

"Idon't believe you. That makes no sense."

"None of your life makessense to me, just like mine doesn't make sense to you. AllI know is that the bombs were dropped November 23rd, 2010."

Callahan continued to shake his head. He paced around my junkyard, scratching his head. "I don't understand. If they dropped in 2010, then how can you be here breathing in the air?"

I squinted, unsure of what he meant.

"Callahan, what year do you think it is?"

"2024." His voice came out so soft I wasn't even sure I'd heard it.

Oh Jesus Christ.

"What year is it?"

I wasn't sure I wanted to tell him now. Would he go into a panic and lose his mind? He repeated the question.

"Callahan, it's 2333."

Callahan stood still as a statue, his eyes glossing over as he took in this information. The bunker had lied to them about so many things, and this was just the cherry on top.

"We missed 50 years of history, of media, of movies and music and books and--" He threw his hands up to the sky and cried out in anguish. "Those bastards!"

I walked to him and put my arm over his shoulder. "Well, pal. It's fine now because I'm going to catch you up on all you missed. Starting with music. I'm going to show you Guns N Roses."

I turned on my radio and Atlas Adam's voice came through loud and crisp.

"Hey all you dusty cats and kittens, your favorite wasteland DJ is back in the studio again to play all the tunes. We've got a few songs from the 80's, the 70's, and then we're gonna finish off the hour with the best song to ever be recorded, ‘Mr. Brightside'."

The drums started for Van Halen's ‘Too Hot For Teacher'. Callahan stood there, bewildered as he listened to the music. I danced around a bit, having more fun than I should have at his expense. I played air guitar and headbanged as I sang along to the song. Eventually, his face relaxed and his shoulders joined him. I smacked his back playfully.

"Now, how about we file off the serial numbers on that ride of yours and tear down that suit for parts?"

We spent the second half of the day listening to music and doing just as I'd suggested. We took off all identification from the 4-wheeler and ripped apart his radiation suit. It had a few interesting things inside, but mostly we did it so that if someone went digging around in the junkyard, a whole suit wouldn't be found.

Having just discovered every single thing about his life was a lie, I allowed him to ask questions about what he'd missed. In exchange he answered more of mine about Eleanor and the bunker. I told him about music, books, historic events.

"There's not a whole lot I'm familiar with as far as history goes. Watergate, uh... Stonewall?" I scratched my head, trying to think of other important things. We were never formally taught in schools. We relied on random books we could find and word of mouth.

"What was Stonewall?" he asked.

I grinned. That was the one I knew the most about.

"Stonewall was a riot. It's where I got my name from. They tried to call me Stonewall, but it didn't catch on. The Stonewall riots were the beginning of the gay rights movement. Police raided the Stonewall inn and they fought back," I told him proudly. While of course, I hadn't been there, my brothers and sisters and other queer ancestors had and while they may not have realized it at the time, they did something amazing.

"And that's the part of history you chose to remember?" Callahan looked at me funny. "Why?"

"Because it's my history," I laughed. "Or did you not have the word gay in 1962?" I teased him.

"No, we do, but... why you?"

I stared at him, my hand on my hip, and laughed. "I'm gayer than shit. Is that a problem?"

He blinked. "N-no, of course not. But, you were looking at Eleanor--"

I made my way slowly to him. "I go both ways. Cock or pussy, both are good to me. You should try it sometime." I looked him up and down, pausing at his dick. It was visible through his pants. I stepped to him and grabbed his chin. "Haven't you ever been curious?"

"Curious?"

I lowered my hand down and cupped his cock. It hardened in my palm. "Curious about what it'd be to get your dick sucked by a man. I mean, we know what feels good for our own dicks. It would stand to reason that we'd be good at doing it for others."

Callahan swallowed, but didn't push my hand away. I ground against his cock and it throbbed. I looked behind him and saw a stack of cinderblocks. Keeping one hand on his cock, I pushed him back until he hit the blocks and sat down. I knelt in front of him and, keeping eye contact, took the glove off my hand without the tattoo, and leaned him back to undo his belt and zipper.

His cock popped out like a jack in the box. It was large. I gripped it and started stroking. I chuckled when his breath quickened. "I knew you were a little curious. Want to know what it's like to get blown the right way?" I looked up into his eyes. He was probably the most handsome man I'd ever seen in my life; other than myself. But fucking myself was far less fun. I leaned in and ran my tongue along the head of his cock. He closed his eyes and gasped.

"Yes, god yes."

I moved my hand and took him into my mouth, relaxing my jaw and inhaling him as deep as I could. I sucked him deep, savoring how clean he tasted. My own cock was responding and I knew after this I'd have to take care of it, but for now, I was focused on Cal's cock. I was determined to give him the best blow job of his life. He grabbed my hair in his fist and shoved me deeper. I relished in his need for me, and I picked up speed, moving my tongue exactly the right ways until he let out a deep moan and held me down, coming into my throat.

He tastes like candy too.