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Summary:

Carol swore loudly before standing up. “Are people going to die if I fuck you?”

“They already have, Carol. Would you like to hear how many–”

“No – Jesus. No!” Carol threw a furious glare at Zosia, “Are you fucking serious?”

“Unfortunately,” Zosia said peaceably. “It is worth noting that we would like to study this situation voluntarily, as it seems like you are the only one who affects us in this way.”

Notes:

It seems like I can't write anything without injecting it with comedy. So here's more smut with humour, since I am a well adjusted person who does not constantly think of weird situations to put Carol and Zosia in. And before anyone asks, I did absolutely watch an Albuquerque City Hall meeting livestream recording. It was four hours long.

Oh yeah, title once again stolen from a Rolling Stones song. I'm also outing myself as an L.A. Law fan. Because I'm a what? Boomer.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The idea came to her one late afternoon, settled against Zosia as an episode of L.A. Law buzzed in the background. Carol was teetering on the edge of tipsy and drunk – which is where she decided her best ideas came from. And that was only partially true, because getting arrested for multiple DUIs definitely brought down her batting average by… a bit. But now that there were no police, no lawyers, no jails – Carol thought back to her wildest ideas in her youth.

It was probably brought on by the staunchly late 80s era clothing on screen – and Jesus, did pantsuits really work for her – but the idea struck her like a fucking semi-truck. She remembered the stage of her life she was watching these reruns – and what was she doing in the 90s other than ill-informed nearly public sex in shitty dyke bars?

She looked down at Zosia, pleasantly watching the episode.

“Do you want to share a thought, Carol?” Zosia said without looking up at her; a while back Carol had told her to stop looking at her every single time she spoke to her. It was eerie, but somehow the fact that Carol trained it out of her was almost eerier. Motherfuck.

“Uh…” Carol cleared her throat, “yeah. Sort of, I mean.”

This time Zosia did look at her. In the background on the television, one of the lawyers, Kuzak, was saying some bullshit to a woman who was so out of his league it wasn't even funny. Carol gulped. Was she him?

“We love your ideas, Carol. Oh, please share,” Zosia sat up excitedly.

‘Well, whatever our differences may have been, we're going to cross paths socially and professionally.’ The volume on the television was low – but Carol was still attuned to the words falling from the woman’s lips on-screen. ‘I just don't want this to be a source of ongoing embarrassment...’

Carol cleared her throat, “Hypothetically…”

“Yes?” Zosia asked, tucking her legs beneath herself as she turned to fully face Carol.

‘Um, me neither,’ the man replied – fucking Kuzak. Carol hated that guy and his stupid meaty face.

“Is it… possible…” Carol could feel herself burn up at the words that were threatening to come out. Christ. Get it together.

“Anything is possible for you, Carol. You just have to ask. You know how much we love you–”

“Right, right. Okay. Fuck,” Carol blew out a breath. “If I request a play like fucking Diabaté but it's like… just normal life in Albuquerque, would you be able to do that? That's like… hundreds of people. Thousands?”

Zosia seemed slightly taken aback by Carol’s request before smiling. “Well, of course, Carol. We could easily do that for you. Is that all you would like? Normal life?”

Carol sat back against the armrest, poking her tongue into the meat of her cheek. “You guys like being surprised, right?”

“Oh, yes, Carol,” Zosia nodded immediately. “Will you be surprising us with something we'd enjoy?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so,” Carol said eventually, trying not to let her imagination go too wild – she still wasn't sure how this would go. If it could even work the way she thought it would. “If it goes well, I might even ask for it again.”

‘Stay,’ Kuzak said from Carol’s periphery on-screen.

The woman – Grace – looked indecisive. Resigned. Even in the dark of Kuzak’s house. Carol watched her breathe heavily on-screen before swallowing. The television quality wasn't great, but Carol always felt something watching this unfold. She could almost feel Helen’s hand against the back of her neck as they watched this rerun together in ‘99.

‘If I stay, I might never leave.’

 


 

Carol woke up to the sound of a garbage truck clunking loudly outside her bedroom window. Jesus – what fucking time was it? Oh fuck, did she forget to take out the trash? Helen probably asked her a billion times, and based on the ache between her eyes, she'd probably been way too fucking drunk to pull the cans out –

Her hand came into contact with an empty bed – cool to the touch.

What the hell?

Carol cracked her eyes open, the sounds of the garbage truck still clattering outside. Helen’s side of the bed was empty; her nightstand bare of the book she usually read before sleep, and in its place a carafé for water that…

Fuck.

A carafé Zosia drank from every night.

Helen was dead, Zosia was here, and it'd been six years since the Joining had occurred.

Double fuck.

Okay, so if that was the case, why the fuck was there a garbage truck ruining her sleep at – she looked at the clock on her bedside table – 6AM? Jesus.

“Zosia!” she yelled, before slapping a pillow onto her face. It didn't do much to help with filtering the noise, Carol liked her pillow flat as a pancake.

The door creaked open, “Yes, Carol?”

Carol groaned, rolling her body to hang her feet off the bed. She slowly sat up, clutching her head as it pounded. “Why the fuck is there a garbage truck out there?”

Zosia smiled blankly. “The garbage used to be picked up every Thursday in your neighborhood between six and seven-thirty in the morning. We are just trying to keep to the reality of what used to be your daily life.”

“My daily–” Carol froze. “Today? We're doing this today?”

“Yes, Carol. We reminded you in intervals throughout the week – once a day, starting last Thursday, ramping upwards to three times yesterday. Once more before you fell asleep,” Zosia said. Carol watched as her left hand gripped her right wrist, just in front of her body. She did this when she was waiting for Carol’s response.

“Fuck,” Carol sighed. She definitely drank too much the night before to remember. “Okay, did you get the… thing?”

Zosia beamed, “Of course, Carol! Oh, we are so excited for you to use–”

“And you practiced what I asked you to?” Carol firmly cut in before Zosia could finish her sentence. “You won't get too distracted?”

“We…” Zosia’s lower lip was pulled between her teeth as she thought, “We are attempting to…” she swallowed, “We certainly can try. We've tried redirecting our… reactions to a more remote part of the world. Away from other immune individuals. Highly focused.”

Carol blinked at her. “So you're making, like, the entire population of St. Louis super horny? Or what?”

Zosia smiled haplessly, “More like the entire population of Germany. We're working through some hiccups.”

“Hiccups?” Carol stood from the bed. “Hiccups? You call that – Jesus. How many people are in Germany? That has to be millions of people!”

“It was billions previously, Carol,” Zosia said, “All things considered, a step in the right direction.” She rocked on her heels slightly, “And to answer your question, Germany currently has a population of approximately seventy-three million, two hundred and fifty-five thousand, one hundred and twenty-seven. Eight. Seven.” Zosia blinked. “Apologies. Six. Another heart attack.”

Carol swore loudly before standing up. “Are people going to die if I fuck you?”

“They already have, Carol. Would you like to hear how many–”

“No – Jesus. No!” Carol threw a furious glare at Zosia, “Are you fucking serious?”

“Unfortunately,” Zosia said peaceably. “It is worth noting that we would like to study this situation voluntarily, as it seems like you are the only one who affects us in this way.”

“I’m the only immune person who has the power to fuck you to death, you mean?” Carol needed a drink. It didn't matter that it was six in the fucking morning – she needed a drink.

“If that is how you'd like to phrase it, then yes. You are the only person in the world who is able to… fuck us to death.”

“Can we work on, like, not dying for this exercise today?” Carol asked. “It'd really take the fucking wind out of my sails if someone keels over and dies while I'm–” And suddenly Carol was imagining what she had planned. “Oh, fuck it – just make sure no one dies in the same room as me. Same building, even. If possible.”

Zosia’s smile widened at Carol seemingly allowing her worries about their plans to fall to the wayside. “We can assure you that no one will die in your vicinity.”

“Great,” Carol said, clapping her hands together. “Then let's get this show on the road.”

 


 

Albuquerque’s City Hall was an odd building, all things considered. It used to be an office building for the county, if Carol recalled correctly, with the original one abandoned; too squat, too small, too run-down. She'd been in both buildings – a regular in the sense that she gave a shit about what was being approved by the city. (If that made her a NIMBY, then so be it.)

Carol had even been to multiple city council meetings, had taken part in the general public comments portion to voice her distaste for a proposed development or two.

But, never had she sat in the blue upholstered fold-down seat in the crowd while Zosia kneeled between her legs, taking the strap-on Carol wore deep into her throat.

No one paid them any mind, even as Carol groaned and allowed her head to drop back against the backrest.

The way Carol got into this situation was a journey in itself. Zosia had driven them to City Hall in her little blue Camry while Carol shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat. The strap-on she wore perfectly pressed against her clit after she zipped her jeans up (with great difficulty). It seemed like Zosia was trying to hit every pothole on the way there to really jostle Carol around until she couldn't stand. But she did – miracle upon miracles. Carol and Zosia took their seats side-by-side just as the meeting began.

Zosia put her hand solidly atop the bulge in Carol’s pants as the call to attendance for the council members began.

“Fuck,” she hissed, her hand grappling the back of Zosia’s to press down harder.

“Dobrze?” Zosia asked, knowing that throwing Polish at Carol would only make the situation in her underwear worse. It seemed as though they had even fucking looked through her PornHub searches to really hit a homerun with Zosia. It was bad enough that she actually had typed out ‘soviet slavic russian woman milf masturbating dirty talk polish romanian’ into the search bar and hit enter; it was another thing entirely to have it whenever she wanted. “Good?” Her voice was doing the breathy thing that made Carol want to walk out into rush hour traffic.

“Yes, fuck, do you even have to ask me?” Carol huffed, her breathing picking up when the zipper on her pants was slowly lowered. She was so attuned to what Zosia was doing, she could hear each individual tooth of the zipper click as it released.

Zosia palmed her beneath her jeans, the boxer briefs Carol wore tight over the strap. She did this all the while other crowd members around them listened intently as the city clerk gave a rundown of the agenda the council would be tackling during the meeting. A flush rose up Carol's neck.

“And you said it's all under control?” Carol asked, referring to the effect she seemed to have on the hive. The thought of Councilman John Bryant, the sweatiest man Carol had ever had the pleasure of seeing, grunting along with Zosia was enough to temper her libido slightly.

“Yes, Carol,” Zosia said with a pleased smile as she pulled the silicone cock out of Carol’s underwear, “it is completely under control.”

Carol almost wanted to take that as a challenge, but from her periphery she could see Councilman Bryant mopping at his bald head with a damp hanky. Jesus Christ.

So instead, she watched as Zosia slid off the chair beside her to primly kneel between her legs. “Is this what you had in mind?” Faintly, through the buzzing in Carol’s ears, she could hear the clerk announce that the pledge of allegiance would be recited in both English and Spanish.

As everyone shuffled to stand, choreographed to be asynchronous like it would normally be prior to the Joining, Zosia licked a long stripe from the base of the cock to the tip.

“Oh, Christ –” The sight alone was enough to have Carol thrusting weakly into the air. Her right hand found Zosia’s jaw immediately.

Zosia pulled back slightly as the crowd droned one nation, under god, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all before launching into the Spanish variation. “Would you like to fuck my mouth, Carol?” Her hand reached forward to grab Carol’s other hand, which was tightly gripping the seat’s armrest. She pressed it to the other side of her face. “We remembered that you enjoyed it the last time we were in this position.”

Carol was going to die on the spot. So much for fucking Them to death, they were going to actually kill her.

…con libertad y justicia para todos.

Somehow the absolute mundanity of her surroundings made her burn even harder – it was like that classic nightmare where you had gone to school in your underwear. The problem was that due to the fact that Carol was completely normal and not at all sick in the head, she actually wanted this. She was turned on to an absolutely unprecedented degree by the concept of having sex right then and there during a fucking city hall meeting.

She'd sat in these very seats previously and idly imagined Helen beneath her while she waited for her turn to speak. And They knew this because Helen knew this after she’d leaned over to whisper “what are you thinking about right now?” with a knowing glance after Carol had spaced out for too long.

So, it felt like something within her was clawing out at the opportunity to actually do this – to sit amongst a couple dozen people while she was being pleasured. The fact that no one batted an eye made the whole situation feel less real – less like Carol had something to lose.

And she didn't, technically. The world was already over. She might as well enjoy the feeling of Zosia’s throat opening up for her as she thrust upwards, the base of the strap pressing deliciously against her clit.

“Civic Plaza parking passes are provided for members of the public. You can obtain a parking pass from the council staff…”

The councilwoman continued speaking, regardless of the fact that Carol was openly moaning now. “Fuck – oh –” She pulled out of Zosia’s mouth suddenly, knowing that she was on the precipice of coming. “Fuck, fuck – wait – stop –” She eeked out a breath.

“Everything alright, Carol?” Zosia asked. Her eyes were glassy, lips swollen and damp. Carol watched her throat bob, probably feeling empty without –

Carol let out another shaky breath, trying to quell the wave of arousal that had almost made her finish within minutes. “Yeah,” she squeaked before clearing her throat, “yeah. Uh. Yeah.” Could she say anything except ‘yeah’?

“Would you like us to touch ourself while you catch your breath?” Zosia asked, smiling much too prettily for Carol to do anything except nod dumbly.

Zosia stood, leaning her ass back against the headrest of the seat in the row below them. Her hands lifted her skirt up, showcasing the damp spot directly at the center of her silk underwear. Her long fingers stroked along the length of her cunt over the slippery cloth. She let out a small pleased gasp just as the clerk began speaking about how to access the meeting on Zoom.

Carol glanced at her surroundings again, the women in her row looking at the front of the room with interest, still ignoring the fact that Carol and Zosia were doing something absolutely obscene.

“We won’t–” Zosia broke off, gasping, “No one will pay you mind Carol. Not unless you would like them to.” Carol watched as two of her fingers nudged her panties aside to press into her glistening cunt.

“Fuck,” Carol whined, “Fuck, fuck, good. You're–” she swallowed, “you're mine. Now everyone can see it.”

Zosia nodded, brows furrowing as she thrust lightly into herself. Her eyes closed as her head fell backwards like a deadweight. "Yes, yes, Carol. Yours,” she gasped as her fingers crooked upwards into herself, “yours, yours–”

The councilwoman speaking suddenly began coughing, before grabbing a glass of water to drink. “Apologies. To anyone attending via the Zoom link, please be sure to remember to select your preferred language…” Her words were immediately drowned out by Zosia’s moans as they increased in volume.

Carol pressed a hand against the strap, feeling it resonate against her clit. Was she really about to start jerking off in the middle of City Hall? Zosia twitched as her fingers increased in speed. “Dobrze, dobrze – ah – tak, tak–” Carol suddenly remembered her PornHub search history with startling clarity. Her hand immediately began working the hard silicone.

“... into our administration question and answer period, please remain respectful and speak clearly so that our interpreters can…”

“Can I –” Carol whimpered at the sight of another one of Zosia’s fingers easily sliding into her cunt. “Fuck – Zosia, I need –”

Zosia quickly moved to straddle Carol’s lap. The movement shook the row of seats, the two older women a few spaces down from them getting slightly jostled. What a fucking strange situation, Carol thought to herself as Zosia lined her cock up with her dripping opening. Her knees pressed against the side of Carol’s hips, very nearly painful – but she was too far gone to care.

“...and to direct my question to Mrs. Ellison with the department of transportation…”

Slick fingers pressed against Carol’s lips and she took them into her mouth in tandem with her strap sliding into Zosia’s cunt. Both of them moaned loudly at the sensation – Carol at the taste of Zosia as her slick coated her tongue. Out of nowhere, she imagined the Zoom feed captioning their moans in English and Spanish respectively.

“Oh, Carol –” Zosia sighed in a high whining tone. She lifted herself off of Carol's lap slowly before dropping back down with an obscene slap.

“J–esus –” Carol groaned, jerking her hips up to meet Zosia’s rhythm with urgency.

“We will now open the floor up for comments from the public, please be advised that we issue a warning system for anyone who acts inappropriately–”

The row of chairs shook even more violently as Zosia began fucking herself onto Carol with abandon.

“...removed from the meeting. With that being said, I cede to Mr. Garcia, who has brought the subject of expanding our city's bus line–”

“Carol – oh, oh –!” Zosia panted, her hands knitting behind Carol’s neck as she squirmed atop her lap. “Please– oh, proszę, proszę, more–”

Carol bent forward to messily press her lips against Zosia’s throat; teeth and tongue and an irresistible urge to bring Zosia’s mouth against her own. She could feel her legs beginning to twitch with the realization that she was closer than she thought – the fucking strap They had brought her, hitting against her clit with surgical precision as she thrust upwards into Zosia’s cunt.

Zosia’s grip tightened against the back of her neck as she let out a mighty gasp. Carol used the opportunity to jerk upwards and press her open mouth against Zosia’s.

“Yes, I believe that – sorry. Excuse me? Carol?” Mr. Garcia was looking at her, even as Zosia continued to slowly grind against her.

“What -? What the fuck?” Carol blinked at the man. “Go back to – Jesus – why are you talking to me?” She looked at him and the rest of the city council from over Zosia’s shoulder. Whatever runway she'd been on towards coming, and coming very hard, had been brought to a complete stop. Councilman Bryant mopped the sweat dripping from his head from her periphery.

“We simply noticed that you might be getting dehydrated, Carol,” he said with a placid smile. A hand tapped her shoulder, a sweating red Gatorade ascending from the row above her in offering. Another hand cracked the orange plastic lid open.

Carol’s lips tightened in displeasure as she looked at the offending item and then back at Zosia, who was still panting but looking at her intently through heavy-lidded eyes.

“It would please us if you replenished your electrolytes before coming to an orgasm,” Mr. Garcia said from the front of the room over the microphone. Nos alegraría que repusieras tus electrolitos antes de llegar al orgasmo, the closed captions probably stamped across the Zoom meeting screen in heavy block letters.

Carol slapped the thing away from her in response, allowing the red liquid to spill all over the carpeted floor beneath her feet. “Yup,” she stood up, bending Zosia over the seat in front of them, “great. Thanks guys.”

The room froze completely as Carol began to pound into her. Her right hand found Zosia’s ass with a savage smack. It echoed across the silent room. At once, she could feel the heat build in her lower abdomen as Zosia pressed her face into the upholstered backrest, her moans breaking out every time Carol fucked into her.

“Oh… f– okay – okay, okay, okay,” Carol chanted, feeling all eyes on her once again; a mirror of when Diabaté’s fucking harem watched her toy with the vibrator Zosia had inside of her. This time, though, she was being watched by the City Council. The fucking Mayor. Mrs. Cortez, who ran a frutas stand that Carol would frequent downtown. “Come on, come on – Fuck –” Something was wrong with her. Zosia moaned louder when Carol’s pace picked up.

Maybe it was the thought that everyone knew Zosia was hers. That, despite Carol’s usual stage aversion, she was about to come in someone who looked like she belonged on a billboard in Times Square. Zosia shook suddenly, a high whine escaping her throat that had everyone in the vicinity sit down as the shockwaves of her pleasure hit them.

This is fucking crazy, was the last thing Carol thought before what could essentially be described as a blinding white light overtook her vision as she pushed deeply into Zosia one more time. Carol could feel the slick wetness drip out from between Zosia’s thighs – an absolutely unprecedented feeling that made Carol distantly realize that she definitely just fucked someone in the world to death. Maybe even multiple people.

Panting, her face pressed against the sweat-damp shirt on Zosia’s back, she came back to herself in degrees. They were on the floor, Carol still fully seated within Zosia. Those fuckers had been right – she had been about to pass out. She grunted when her hand touched the Gatorade soaked floor. “Sorry,” she said, voice hoarse as she slowly pulled out of Zosia – the woman twitching beneath her and huffing out a weak groan at the sensation. A spent body now, just like Carol.

Zosia eventually turned over onto her back to look at Carol with a dazed expression on her face. The other people in the room slowly began filing out the side door to return to wherever the fuck the hive wanted them. Carol could still hear some of them panting. “Was this experience satisfactory?”

Carol unharnessed herself from the strap-on, dropping the sopping thing onto the ground with a clatter of metal buckles and leather. “You know my answer – yeah. Yeah, it was…” she swallowed, “good. Yep.” She gave her a weak thumbs up for some reason. “What about you guys? How'd your, uh… study go?”

Zosia smiled widely, “Oh, this was very helpful to us. It taught us a lot about the limitations – we believed to be further along in our quest for emotional containment than we actually are. It seems we still have quite a ways to go.”

She wasn't going to ask, she wasn’t going to ask, she wasn’t going to – “So people died?”

“Not as many as we thought would, if that brings you any comfort,” Zosia said sweetly.

Carol let out a loud groan, falling back against the gross sticky floor. “Super comforting, guys, thanks.”

Notes:

I heart comments, kudos, more ideas, and youuuuuuuu

Next thing I have coming out is Friday for that fun (I'm lying, it's painful) multi-chap fic!

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