through a box and pulled out a can of chowder and a very old baguette. It had a few spots of mold on the crust that she carefully cut away. When she was done, Ian took the bread from her and hit it on the card table. It was in the last stage of stale: rock solid.
“You could kill a man with this,” he joked, trying to lighten the situation.
She grabbed it back. “Not if you dip it in the soup first. It softens.” She lit the flame of a small camp stove and dumped the chunky chowder into a pot. Once the chowder was warmed, she poured a single bowl and set it down on the floor in front of her mother. She set the baguette next to it and kissed her mother’s forehead.
“Do you want anything to eat?” Ripley asked.
Ian shook his head. The last thing he needed before losing his virginity was a belly full of sloshing soup. His stomach was churning anyway, from a mix of excitement and nervousness.
Ripley grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom, which was nothing more than a bed and an overturned crate as a table. A sheet hung from the ceiling of the shipping container and acted as a wall. They lay down on her bed, which was only a pile of flattened cardboard covered with a sheet and quilt. She cuddled close to him.
Ian’s heart began to pound and he could feel his cheeks and his crotch growing warm.
“I’m sorry if I smell,” she said self-consciously. “I haven’t bathed in a few days.”
“I’m sure I smell far worse. I’ve been running around a lot.”
“Yeah and you’re a boy ,” she said through a laugh.
“A boy who forgot to pack his deodorant.”
“You know, there’s a ‘take one, get one free’ sale at every store in town right now. It wouldn’t be much trouble for you to get some.”
She’s cute and funny , he thought. How did I get so lucky?
Ian was quickly running out of things to talk about. His life revolved around Grant and survival, and Grant was the last thing he wanted to bring up. He touched the thin fabric wall that separated them from Ripley’s mother.
“It’s a little weird, you know, with your mom out there,” Ian said. He worried she would become bored of her meal, wander over, and snap out of her senility long enough to chew him out for banging her daughter.
“She doesn’t pay attention anymore,” Ripley replied as she blew out a candle, the only light source.
“This is my first time,” Ian finally admitted to her in the dark. His hands felt heavy and awkward, but Ripley began to guide them and his nerves calmed. She was obviously not a virgin. There was something primitive about the low bed, the dirt of the construction site, and the metal smell from the container walls. Ian felt an animalistic energy come over him as he entered her. Ripley moaned softly and then covered her own mouth with a hand to stifle the noise.
After they finished, they lay next to each other in the dark. Now that Ian was no longer a virgin, he was suddenly less shy and couldn’t stop touching her skin. It was soft and warm, made softer and warmer by the juxtaposition of their industrial surroundings. Ian was beginning to fall asleep when a dry and wretched noise came from the “living room” area. “What is that?”
Ripley sighed. “My mother. I’ll go check on her.” She reached for a flashlight and turned it on. Ian got a quick peek of her naked body before she pulled on her dirty clothes. Ripley dragged her feet as she went to her mother’s aid.
“Oh my god! She’s choking! Help me!” she called out to Ian.
Ian felt around for his own clothes, dressed, and ran to them. Ripley pushed the flashlight to his chest. “Hold this!” she yelled.
He held it above the woman’s face with a trembling hand as she struggled for breath. Ripley plunged a finger down her mother’s throat in an attempt to free the piece of bread, but she only succeeded in lodging it further down.
“Dammit! Hold the light over her mouth!” she screamed. Ian had closed his eyes from
“You could kill a man with this,” he joked, trying to lighten the situation.
She grabbed it back. “Not if you dip it in the soup first. It softens.” She lit the flame of a small camp stove and dumped the chunky chowder into a pot. Once the chowder was warmed, she poured a single bowl and set it down on the floor in front of her mother. She set the baguette next to it and kissed her mother’s forehead.
“Do you want anything to eat?” Ripley asked.
Ian shook his head. The last thing he needed before losing his virginity was a belly full of sloshing soup. His stomach was churning anyway, from a mix of excitement and nervousness.
Ripley grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom, which was nothing more than a bed and an overturned crate as a table. A sheet hung from the ceiling of the shipping container and acted as a wall. They lay down on her bed, which was only a pile of flattened cardboard covered with a sheet and quilt. She cuddled close to him.
Ian’s heart began to pound and he could feel his cheeks and his crotch growing warm.
“I’m sorry if I smell,” she said self-consciously. “I haven’t bathed in a few days.”
“I’m sure I smell far worse. I’ve been running around a lot.”
“Yeah and you’re a boy ,” she said through a laugh.
“A boy who forgot to pack his deodorant.”
“You know, there’s a ‘take one, get one free’ sale at every store in town right now. It wouldn’t be much trouble for you to get some.”
She’s cute and funny , he thought. How did I get so lucky?
Ian was quickly running out of things to talk about. His life revolved around Grant and survival, and Grant was the last thing he wanted to bring up. He touched the thin fabric wall that separated them from Ripley’s mother.
“It’s a little weird, you know, with your mom out there,” Ian said. He worried she would become bored of her meal, wander over, and snap out of her senility long enough to chew him out for banging her daughter.
“She doesn’t pay attention anymore,” Ripley replied as she blew out a candle, the only light source.
“This is my first time,” Ian finally admitted to her in the dark. His hands felt heavy and awkward, but Ripley began to guide them and his nerves calmed. She was obviously not a virgin. There was something primitive about the low bed, the dirt of the construction site, and the metal smell from the container walls. Ian felt an animalistic energy come over him as he entered her. Ripley moaned softly and then covered her own mouth with a hand to stifle the noise.
After they finished, they lay next to each other in the dark. Now that Ian was no longer a virgin, he was suddenly less shy and couldn’t stop touching her skin. It was soft and warm, made softer and warmer by the juxtaposition of their industrial surroundings. Ian was beginning to fall asleep when a dry and wretched noise came from the “living room” area. “What is that?”
Ripley sighed. “My mother. I’ll go check on her.” She reached for a flashlight and turned it on. Ian got a quick peek of her naked body before she pulled on her dirty clothes. Ripley dragged her feet as she went to her mother’s aid.
“Oh my god! She’s choking! Help me!” she called out to Ian.
Ian felt around for his own clothes, dressed, and ran to them. Ripley pushed the flashlight to his chest. “Hold this!” she yelled.
He held it above the woman’s face with a trembling hand as she struggled for breath. Ripley plunged a finger down her mother’s throat in an attempt to free the piece of bread, but she only succeeded in lodging it further down.
“Dammit! Hold the light over her mouth!” she screamed. Ian had closed his eyes from
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