Covid

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H.T. Bruhaus

Covid-27

I am plowing the small field of squashes right after harvest, getting it ready for next spring's crop rotation of spinach, sugar beets and chard. My "tractor" is a modified Tesla model X with no doors or windshield. All of my vehicles are electric, the Federal Building's solar array is still producing electricity and I am able to charge them there. The Tesla is pulling a plow I gleaned from some "Gentleman's Farm" out near Forest Grove.

The dogs start barking like crazy and take off running towards the Morrison bridge.

I stop plowing and look up at the bridge. I am shocked. There is a human form riding a horse. I quickly grab my rifle hanging by its strap next to the driver's seat.

I always keep my hunting rifle nearby, but not for hunting, I have plenty of game meat on hand, it's to protect my dogs and livestock. Ever since covid-27 killed off 99.9998% of the human population, the wildlife has rebounded dramatically and it is common to see coyotes, wolfs, bears and even some big cats. I only use the rifle as a last resort. Usually, I can scare off any aggressive animals before they get too close.

Also, having a pack of fifty dogs at any given moment doesn't hurt either.

I sight through the scope at the figure on the horse. It appears to be a young man.

I haven't seen a human being ever since three women stopped by on their way to Napa Valley. It was two years after the pandemic hit and I had just started my farm. During those first two years, I only ate processed foods. I decided I better start producing my own food before the processed stuff ran out or spoiled.

I had purposely set up my farm in downtown Portland at Tom McCall Waterfront Park, assuming if anyone was still alive in this area, they would likely come here. The women stayed long enough for me to impregnate two of them, then they headed to California where the weather is mild and you can grow food year-round.

I wanted to go with them, but they made it clear they didn't want me.

That was seven years ago.

I whistle loudly through my teeth and call off the dogs. They come running back.

The figure on the horse waves enthusiastically and yells "Hey! Haaayyy!" He is now at the part of the bridge that is about forty feet directly above the squash field.

I get out of the Tesla and point to the bridge's offramp. I yell "Go that way."

He yells back, "Yeah. Okay."

It's weird, I don't feel threatened at all. I know I should be more cautious and get into a defensive position, but I don't want to scare him, I want to talk to him and see his face. I guess I must be starving for some company that is not a dog.

He coxes his horse into a moderate trot. I watch as he and his horse follow the offramp along a sloping 360-degree curve, where it circles around and connects to Naito Parkway directly across from my squash field. Then he guides the horse over what's left of the street.

I hang the rifle back inside the Tesla and walk across the field to meet him.

It is late September and a hot day. I am barefoot and totally naked. I have a deep tan. I rarely wear clothes when the weather is nice. I prefer to conserve my limited supply.

He jumps off the horse. There are dozens of dogs of various breeds greeting him. He pets as many as he can. "You have dogs!"

"Yeah." I give a short whistle and gesture with my hand. The dogs move off to a respectful distance.

Then he comes up and gives me a fierce hug. He is crying.

I hug him back. This would have been awkward before the pandemic, because of my lack of clothes, but now I don't care, it feels good to touch a human. I almost start crying myself.

He steps back. He wipes the tears off, smearing his face. He composes himself and smiles. "I thought I was the only person alive in the world."

I smile back. "Statistically speaking, there are probably about one thousand people still alive in North America." That sounded like a stupid thing to say. I guess my conversation skills need some honing.

He looks surprised. "Wow."

"Not that I have seen any of them. You are the first in seven years." As I am talking, I focus on his face. He is young, probably no older than eighteen. He must have been about nine years old when everybody died.

I wonder how he survived. I had just turned 19 and almost finished with my freshman year at Lewis and Clark College before the pandemic hit and decimated the population. And I just barely managed to survive myself.

He points to my cock. "You're the first man I've ever seen. That I can remember."

"Okay." This kid is a little strange. I guess that's what apocalypses do to people. I look at him more closely.

He has long shaggy hair that hangs past his shoulders and is bleached blond by the sun. His face is very pretty, if not a little dirty. I could almost mistake him for a girl, except that he is shirtless and he clearly doesn't have breasts, just a muscle hardened chest, naturally lean like most young men his age.

He is barefoot and wearing a grungy cotton skirt with a pattern of yellow daisies on a blue background. The skirt goes down to his knees. He doesn't appear to be wearing anything underneath the skirt, because the shape of his cock is clearly visible through the fabric.

Then as I am looking at his bulge, the skirt starts forming a tent. I am surprised at how fast he gets hard. I look at his face.

He lifts up his skirt with one hand and wraps his other hand around his cock. He starts masturbating right in front of me. "Have you ever done this before? You've got to try it." He smiles sweetly. His eyes look down my body. They linger on my cock. He looks at my face and our eyes lock. "I really like looking at you."

Despite myself, my cock gets hard too.

His grin gets broader. "Yeah, now what you do is grab hold of it and move your hand up and down. Like how I'm doing it."

I look at him stroking his cock. I've experimented with guys in high school and college, just like everybody else from my generation, but I consider myself straight. Fuck it. I grab my cock and start stroking. I look into his eyes.

"See? It feels good, doesn't it?"

He is very pretty and very innocent.

"Doesn't it?" He seems to be waiting for me to answer.

I nod.

"Now keep going. It gets even better, if you can believe it." He speeds up his stroking. He moves in close. Our cocks are almost touching. He is looking down at them.

His voice is strained. "Do you like how it feels?" It gets higher in pitch. "It feels really good, doesn't it?" He makes little grunting sounds. "Uh...Uh...Uh." He strokes faster. He makes a short yelp, "Ah!" His stroking gets more desperate.

He pushes the head of his cock against my pubes just above my cock. He yelps again, "Aah...aah!" He practically screams, "Here it is. Watch this!" Cum starts shooting out of his cock and onto my pubes. "AahAahAah..." He keeps shooting and his cum gets all over my abs and my cock and dribbles down onto my legs and into the field. "Aaaahhhhhh." He lets go of his skirt and grabs my shoulder.

The skirt falls down and covers our cocks.

I am almost there. For some reason, I want Puck to see me shoot, so I lift the skirt back up and hold it against the side of his chest.

I speed up my stroke. I glance at his face.

He is watching intently.

Then I hunch over and convulse. I start cumming. It spurts out of my cock in successive waves, getting all over his hand and abs and cock and balls.

It's a colossal load. I've been so busy with the harvest, that I haven't jacked off in the last five days. I seem to have an excess amount of cum.

Puck is impressed. "Wow! That's a lot of sap."

I am spent. It's the first time in years anybody has watched me cum.

Then he wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly.

I hug him back.

I feel this urgent need to kiss him, but I don't. We break apart. He grabs my cock and looks me in the eyes. "Did you like that?"

I smile.

"Wasn't that amazing? I told you it got better."

I step back. He lets go of my cock. I flick cum from my hand. "Well, I've actually done that before."

"Really? You do that too?"

"Everybody does that."

He looks confused.

"Or at least they used to."

"Oh." He seems disappointed he wasn't able to show me something new.

I feel sorry for him. I put my hand on his shoulder and gently squeeze it. "But it was much better doing it with you."

He smiles, "Yeah, a lot better."

We are standing in full sun in the middle of the field. The horse is nibling at a section of grass under a large Maple tree by the Willamette River. A lot of my dogs are lying in the shade near the horse. I nod my head in their direction, "Let's sit."

"Okay."

I grab a jug of ice water from the Tesla. We walk over to the Maple tree and get under its canopy and into the relative comfort of its shade.

I watch Puck as he bends over and pulls his skirt down to his knees. He lifts his feet, one at a time, and steps out of it.

I am surprised that I find his naked body beautiful.

He catches me looking at him and smiles, then he uses the skirt to wipe up my cum.

I go up next to him and he gives me the skirt. I use it to clean his cum off of me.

He takes the skirt from my hand and walks over to the horse. He pets the horse's nose. "We made it to Portland, Tina." The horse doesn't have a halter, nor does it have a saddle, just an old blanket and two pairs of makeshift bags. One pair suspended across its haunches and the other pair across the horse's withers. He pulls off the blanket and the bags. There was a recurve hunting bow on the other side of the horse I hadn't noticed before. He puts his skirt in one bag and sets everything down at the base of the tree.

"How are you able to guide your horse without a halter?"

He rubs Tina's nose some more, "I just tell her where to go."

We sit in the soft grass. I hand him the jug of water. He holds it in both hands, tilts his head back and drinks greedily. Water runs down his chin and onto his chest. He smiles as he hands it back to me. "That was good. Where did you get ice?"

I take a drink. "My building makes electricity from the sun. I have an ice machine." I'm not sure he will understand.

"We have photo-electric panels too."

"Ahh, that makes sense." I smile. "My name is..." I almost forgot. "...Gabe."

"I'm Puck."

"Puck?"

"Yeah, that's what Nana always called me."

"I see."

"She died six years ago when I was twelve, Gabe." He puts his hand on my leg next to my cock. "Ever since I could remember, Nana had been telling me to go to Portland when I turn eighteen." He absently grabs hold of my cock.

Even though I'm somewhat desperate for human contact, it makes me uncomfortable. I call one of my nicest dogs over, "Neville."

A beautiful brown and white Whippet comes up to me. I nod my head at Puck. "Go."

Neville crawls into Puck's lap and licks his hand.

Puck lets go of my cock and pets Neville. He resumes talking. "Nana gave me directions."

"To Portland?"

"Yeah."

"Where are you from?"

"Coeur d'Alene."

"Northern Idaho." Lots of survivalist up that way.

"Yes!" He recites, almost like a poem. "Ninety to three ninety-five, then to eighty-two. Then take eighty-four all the way to Portland."

Neville is loving the attention.

"You rode that horse all the way?"

"Yeah, we left on my eighteenth birthday, June twenty-first, just like Nana told me." He looks at me. "Are you hungry?" He carefully sets Neville aside. He stands and grabs a saddlebag. He tosses it over.

I catch it and look inside as he sits back down.

Neville daintily crawls back into his lap.

Inside the bag is smoked salmon, smoked venison, dried mushrooms, and dried fruit in plastic containers. He also has a sack of sunflower seeds. There are three loose apples at the bottom of the bag. I grab an apple and take a bite. It's a Honeycrisp at the height of its season. I talk with my mouth full. "That's good."

He picks the apple from my hand and takes a bite. "I know."

We pass the apple back and forth until only the core is left.

Puck calls Tina over and feeds her the apple core. Then he sets Neville down and stretches out in the grass on his back. He rests one hand on his stomach and holds onto his balls with his other hand. He immediately falls asleep.

I look at him lying there naked. He is completely vulnerable and totally trusting. I suddenly feel very protective of Puck. I lie down next to him. I hear his deep rhythmic breathing. I feel the heat emanating from his body.

He rolls onto his side and drapes an arm across my chest. He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. A light breeze blows over us.

I close my eyes. My life has changed. I drift off to sleep.

H.T. Bruhaus. July 9th, 2022

I have been thinking about this story for several years. It was far more detailed and complicated then what I have written here. I like "End of the World" scenarios. One of my favorite movies as a kid was Omega Man, starring Charlton Heston. However, I don't really like conflict. That is why I killed off nearly the entire world population.

As we all know, Man is the most dangerous animal, and without a benevolent system of governance, men end up committing appalling acts of violence to one another.

We can't fucking help it.

Please donate to Nifty. It's almost the polar opposite to an appalling act of violence. Okay, not really. But it's a start.

David Brugger