The Last Man on Earth: A Survival Romance

by Shae Sanders

For the loneliest people in a room full of others. May you find the one who truly sees you.

Twenty-seven seems young to marry, especially when you can tell from his music that his frontal lobe needs a lot more cook time, but I ain’t his mama.

“Respectfully, how much would it take for you to hike that dress up and ride my dick?” I see the moment something snaps. Her eyes flash fire as she leans closer, close enough for only me to hear. “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on earth.”

Because the truth is, I need him out here. I needs his protection. I need him to treat me gently, even though we’re in what seems like the roughest place on earth. I need to feel safe. With him.

For a half a second, a picture flashes in my mind of me running over to that HELP sign and kicking the shit out of it until it’s just a big brown pile of seaweed that won’t get us saved, because how I’m feeling right now, I don’t wanna get saved. I wanna lay her on this fucking sand and go in. I want her pussy on my tongue. I want it around my dick. I got a snake for her ass, a big one. I want her to sit on that muhfucka and ride it ‘til we both tap out. I don’t give a fuck about no back home. Ain’t no back home. It’s just us. Right here.

“You sayin’ you want princess treatment? On a desert island?” “Yes,” she says sharply. “Just because I’m stranded doesn’t mean I can’t have standards.”

“Correct,” she says, eyes sparkling. “Because it’s not a dollar amount. It’s a mindset. You might be the only man here, but you still have to apply pressure.”

“I’m serious.” I sit up, wrapping my arms around her. “I’m very satisfied. No regrets. In the future, no appointments needed. No questions asked. If it’s on sight, I’m good with it. Whenever you want it.”

“You are. My hero. My superman. My batman.” “Whatever it takes,” I say. “I got you.”

“There’s a segment of our community that collects degrees like trophies and goes back to school when we’re bored. I’m one of those, I fear.”

“Remember you told me you wouldn’t fuck me if I was the last man on earth?” “Yeah.” “Yeah. Now look at you.” My fingers work faster. “’Bout to nut all over my dick.”

“I don’t give a fuck if they come save us tomorrow,” I say roughly. “I might as well be the last nigga on earth, cuz I’m gon' be the last nigga you fuck.”

“This pussy is mine. This fat muhfucka b...

“A nigga had to kill a wild animal just to taste this pussy,” I murmur. “When you cum, I better hear you. Tell me it’...

"Dick still hard," he announces. "This shit gotta be a kink, right? Trimming pussy hair. I bet there's a club somewhere out there. Pussy Barbers Anonymous or some shit."

“See if that’s how you want it.” I stare down and smile. “Perfect.” He nods. “Do me a favor. Go out there in the water and rinse off so I can eat you out.” “It’ll be salty.” “It’s all good,” he shrugs. “I like my food seasoned.”

Vincent really has the perfect dick. I’m honestly surprised he only has one baby mama. This is the kind of dick you show love to. The kind that makes you tell him don’t pull out. The kind you fight other bitches over. The kind that makes you lose your fucking mind.

“But ultimately, it’s gonna be about what he shows you, not what he says. Men talk a lot, and sometimes, a lotta times, it don’t mean a damn thing.”

“If you wanna play house with me, it’s gotta be at a house where it’s just me and you. And right now, no such house exists.”

Ari isn’t the kind of woman you make promises to. She’s the kind of woman you do shit for.

I’m done arguing over shit that ain’t gon’ matter tomorrow.

“You’re the first man to…” she trails off as her voice cracks, fanning her face like that’s gonna stop the tears. “You’re the first man to love me the way I want to be loved,” she manages to say. “I didn’t know that kind of love existed until you.”