Breaking and Entering

Funerals were important. The way mankind treated its dead has been important ever since the cavemen started noticing that their fellows would eventually fall over and not get back up. It influenced the rise and fall of civilizations, the shaping of religions, just about every facet of life.



John’s father had told him that. James had been a wise man, and that knowledge imparted to the son stung every time he remembered that he hadn’t been able to give his father the proper burial he deserved. In his worst nightmares his father’s corpse was discovered by Raiders, and the mohawked bastards strung his body up on meat hooks, as per their modus operandi. The thought the body of such a good person being so mishandled was greatly depressing.



The Wanderer sighed. The trash bag containing the Mercenary’s mutilated flesh chunks sat neatly in the giant hands of the Super Mutant Fawkes, and over John’s shoulder he had a Fat Man. “All right Fawkes, on three toss the bag as hard and high up as you can.”



A few citizens of Megaton had gathered for a modest funeral proceeding southwest of the settlement. Amongst them were Sheriff Lucas Simms, one of the Stahl brothers, the kind but strange Billy Creel and his adoptive daughter Maggie, Lucy West and Manya, and Confessor Cromwell was leading a small prayer. John’s companions and friends Fawkes and Charon was there, and Dogmeat was pissing on a rock that needed it. Some of the followers of the Holy Light were seen watching with folded hands or bowed heads from their monastery.



Moira was obviously there as she had organized the proceeding, insisting on a proper funeral for her good friend who didn’t talk to her or make eye contact or who was actually already dying of liver failure from heavy drinking caused by the stress of working for the eccentric junk saleswoman.



Also Mickey was there but no one gave a shit.



“3… 2… 1…” With all the strength of a heavily mutated humanoid, Fawkes swung one powerful arm and flung the garbage bag into the air. John pulled the firing mechanism on the Fat Man just when the bag seemed as far away as it could be. The Mini Nuke struck with Pipboy aided precision and exploded fantastically, vaporizing the chunk corpse instantly.



“Nice shot.” Rasped Charon, arms folded as the others clapped or bowed their heads or just watched bemusedly. Dogmeat barked thrice in quick succession at the sudden loud noise. Shortly thereafter they all cleared out to go about their lives in the Wasteland, too concerned with their own survival to worry about the death of another for very long.



Moira sighed and John came to stand beside her, but then suddenly perked up. “Well, I’m sure the guests thought the ceremony was a pretty explosive success!”



John had to smirk at that, and turned to Charon and Fawkes with it plastered all over his face. “Finish packing up whatever you need to, we’re heading into the DC ruins in an hour.” Charon nodded, Fawkes agreed with his flourished diction, and Dogmeat panted happily as they all headed back into the town.



The Wanderer and the Scientist immediately headed into Craterside Supply. Although it had started with what was technically drunken rape, John and Moira had been fucking like bunnies within the last two days. John had learned the tricks of the trade from Nova and Moira had technically had her cherry popped by a bomb (long story), but now they had each other to work their kinks out on.



When the door closed behind them they wasted no time in wrapping their arms around each other and locking lips in a hungry kiss. John ran his hands appreciatively up and down her sides, admiring the young woman’s generous curves and thrilled by the knowledge that she was all his. Moira moaned against his lips and tongue, simultaneously pressing her ass back into his hands and pushing her chest against his. He had to leave in a little bit and they were gonna sneak in one last quickie.



He trapped her between the wall and his body, and she wrapped a leg around his thigh, both intend on grinded their bodies together into one horny, sweaty flesh. John pulled the redhead’s arms down from around his neck so he could pull her jumpsuit down over her shoulders and arms and let it hang past her waste. Those gorgeous, heavy breasts were exposed to him again for the umpteenth time, and he immediately took as much of each that he could in hand, stroking and squeezing and teasing. Moira fumbled at his waistline for a moment; her hands betrayed a quick deftness that comes with years of all kinds of experimentation and inventing as she ripped the belt of his waste and helped him shed his pants. His hard cock and heavy balls pressed against her stomach and felt like a rod of pure heat. The girl took his tool in both hands, stroking eagerly as precum began to ooze from the tip and over her fingers.



With a slow sweep of his arm, John brushed most bits and bobs off the counter in Craterside Supply, the various pieces of junk falling to the floor with a clatter loud enough to hurt his ears, but not enough to stop him in his arousal. The Wanderer picked his woman up by the waist and seated her on the counter, before pushing her down onto her back and followed with a lingering kiss. His hands traveled up the curvy sides of her nude upper body; hips to waist to ribs, over to shoulders and down her arms to her small hands and back up.



His hands sought her chest again, finding it impossible for him to keep them off the redhead’s big tits. John latched onto a nipple and sucked and pulled it between his lips, licking so that her breasts bounced slightly. His lips moved away from her pink nipples, licking and sucking on the tender breast flesh and massaging whatever areas her mouth didn’t touch with his hands. Moira rubbed John’s back with one hand and held his head closer to her chest with the other. The rumor was that with bigger breasts they became less sensitive to pleasure but that was not the case with her; each squeeze and each suckling left her with a tingly sensation and a warmth that spread to her core.



The young man finally was eager enough to sit himself on Moira’s belly, thighs on either side of her torso and his cock pointing directly at her tits. Her big green eyes regarded him and his cock curiously, moaning gently when he sandwiched his cock between her lush tits. Slowly, he pulled his tool out from between her cleavage until only the head was inside, then slowly guided his cock back in. He built up this gentle rhythm, going faster and faster each time, the sound of skin on skin and breathing were the only noise in the world. Moira’s breasts eagerly accepted John’s cock with each thrust, and each time he pulled out form the warm cleavage he wanted to immediately thrust back in.



His strokes were becoming shorter now, more urgent. Moira’s tits continued to jiggle with each thrust, and she laid her hands on top of his to steady him, gasping at each wonderful invasion of his tool between her boobs.



Sweat was accumulating on the hero’s face. Moira’s face and breasts filled his mind, and the pleasurable sensations from his cock blurred his mind into a white haze. He thrust, thrust, thrust between her tits, intent on painting this beautiful redhead with his white seed.



Finally, after what felt like an eternity in a hell full of pleasure, his cock erupted with as much semen as he had ever had, striking the woman with wet splatters that made her gasp. His cum landed on her neck and collarbone, the middle chest and the tops of her tits. It drizzled down gentle to the valley of her cleavage and caught on her hard nipples, and John thought he had never seen a more arousing sight. He immediately thought of taking her again, but Moira seemed exhausted and he had places to be. After a moment of curiously touching the cum he had just plastered her with she grinned up at him.



A few minutes later his pants were back on and he was kissing her goodbye. She hadn’t bothered to clean herself up yet, but as he headed to the door she lifted her breasts to her mouth to lick his cum off with long drags of her tongue. John grunted and watched her with his hand on the doorknob. She flashed him a cheeky grin; she was making it hard for him to leave and they both knew it. John gave her a wry grin of his own and force himself out the door.



Dogmeat, Charon, and Fawkes were all waiting for him at Megaton’s great gate. The immediately set out for the D.C. ruins, having to make numerous stops to certain friends. One in particular was of special interest to John.



He fumbled in one of his pockets and pulled out a holotape he had come across while helping out Riley’s Rangers. It mentioned a ‘Little Moonbeam’ and John was pretty certain he knew who that was.