Abandoned World: The Awakening

No, there had been one time when breathing had been just as hard. Peyton remembered that moment. He'd fucked Delaney from behind once when she was on her knees with her ass against him. He had so enjoyed that view from behind and on top of her. Her hair was a little disheveled down her back and her narrow waist transitioned sharply into the roundness of her hips and ass. It was very arousing, and especially arousing how she screamed then at almost every thrust he made into her. Then he felt like he was going to explode and empty everything in him right into her… But it wasn't happening. He moved more and more, harder and harder, and he felt his arousal more and more. It got bigger and bigger each time, and he realized he couldn't go on. His breath was coming in and out of him, as if someone had thrown a noose around his neck and was beginning to squeeze. And at the same time, it was starting to sting at the back of his shoulder blade. It was getting so heavy that he stopped.

Then he stopped and didn't cum. Just pulled his cock out of her and plopped down next to her on the bed in active breathlessness. Delaney started to ask if he was okay, if he wanted something different after he took a breath. But he only wanted one thing at that point: to catch his breath. To catch his breath and come to his senses, remembering how beautiful and sexy she looked in that position.

And at that moment he began to feel sorry for himself. Now he remembered it very well. Because now he was feeling sorry for himself too. Himself and his helplessness in front of it. How come he couldn't. That he'd gotten everything he wanted, but he hadn't been able to cum when he wanted to… Old age… He didn't want to think about that word. There is no old age when you have such a young and beautiful girl next to you, who wants you, caresses you and loves you. Who comes several times, screams in pleasure and comes again and again. There can't be any old age when it's repeated day after day…It can't be…But it was. Still, it was real. And then he couldn't because he was suffocating, and now he was lying in a hospital bed because he was suffocating again. If not worse.

That's what Delaney got for yesterday. For not being able to come. Couldn't get his seed in her any way. So he had to do it himself. He had to do what she used to do. So he did it in a way she couldn't want him to. But how he should have wanted it… Violence. Because only violence could make him stronger in those moments when he was short of breath. When there wasn't enough of his body working properly to bring him to orgasm. That's when violence came to his aid, violence that works in a very different way than women do.

And now Peyton understood that better than the fact that he was lying in a hospital bed after a heart attack… Ah, yes, yes. A heart attack. It's no longer a sign, it's a consequence of old age. Even though it's "micro" as the doctor said… But it's "micro" when you can't even lie still. And if you start moving, there's no such thing as micro. It's a total asshole. That's what he called it. Total asshole.

He often had to quip about expressions, and this one just reminded him that the whole world had turned on its ass. And "full" means that it applies to all areas of life. All areas of his life… What kind of elder was he if he couldn't even get out of bed without help, not to mention the fact that it was he, Peyton Cross, the same elder who had been the toughest, most combative elder of

them all. He was the one who could explain anything. He was the one who could quip and threaten and glower at his opponents, and they had to back down. In front of him. In front of Elder Peyton Cross, the fiercest of all elders….

Most furious and unable to get out of bed. A complete ass is what it is. There's no other word for it. He's gonna get eaten. His own Elder friends would eat him just for not being able to answer. Oh, how well he knew them. Jackals, cowardly jackals, who always retreated before his wit and his masterful speeches. And no one would help him. They wouldn't even let him wake up. Not even to take a breath in the new realities — not to give him time to recover… And he will sit quietly and silently somewhere on the outskirts of the station, in his new one-room apartment, at best, and write his memoirs… Yes, now is the time for memoirs. Then it will be possible to leave them behind him… But that is if he is given at least one room of his own…..