Alone in the dust is an adult super taboo fanfiction starring myself
# Alone in the Dust
The air in the Vault was never truly fresh—it was always tinged with the sterile bite of recycled oxygen and the faint, oily scent of machinery. But out here, beyond the massive gear-shaped door, the air was a living thing. It filled Laura’s lungs with a cocktail of scents: sun-baked earth, the sweet rot of old wood, and something else, something wild and metallic. Radiation. It shimmered in the hazy afternoon light, a visible curtain of heat that distorted the skeletal remnants of the old world.
Laura leaned against the rusted carcass of a pre-war truck, her body already slick with a thin sheen of sweat. The heavy canvas of her vault suit was stifling, clinging to the generous swell of her hips and the soft curve of her stomach. She ran a hand through her dusty hair, scanning the broken landscape. It was vast, daunting, and utterly intoxicating. Freedom had a taste, and it was the gritty tang of desert dust on her tongue.
A low, rumbling sound, more felt than heard, vibrated through the soles of her boots. She didn’t need to look to know it was Rex. He moved with a silence that belied his immense size, a ghost in the ruins. When he finally padded into her line of sight, he was a monument of muscle and fur. His head was broad, his intelligent eyes gleaming like polished amber as they watched her, missing nothing.
He nudged her hip with his wet nose, a gesture that was both a question and a statement. His sheer presence was a comfort and a catalyst, sending a familiar, thrilling heat coiling low in her belly. She knew this feeling well, this ache that started as a whisper and grew into a demanding roar whenever she was near him. It was a hunger that the sterile, scheduled life of the Vault could never satisfy.
"You like it out here, don't you, boy?" she murmured, her voice husky. Her fingers found the thick scruff of his neck, sinking into the coarse fur. His skin was warm, radiating a primal vitality that stood in stark defiance of the dead world around them.
Rex responded with a soft chuff, his hot breath gusting against her thigh. He turned his massive head, his gaze locking with hers. There was no judgment in those amber depths, only a deep, primal understanding. He knew her. He knew the restless energy that had driven her to the surface, the yearning for something more visceral, more *real*. He was the only one who ever had.
He nudged her again, more insistently this time, his nose pressing against the junction of her thighs. The canvas of her vault suit was no barrier to the electric jolt that shot through her. A soft, needy sound escaped her lips. This was the tension, the unspoken current that had always existed between them. It was the obstacle and the prize, a line that, once crossed, could never be uncrossed. The wasteland demanded survival, but it also offered a raw, feral kind of honesty she craved.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the silent, desperate rhythm pulsing within her. The world narrowed to the heat of the sun on her skin, the gritty scent of dust and dog, and the intense, knowing stare of the colossal creature who was her only companion in the infinite, desolate beauty of the end of the world.
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## Chapter 2
The thin layer of dust on her tongue tasted like rust and revelation. Laura's thighs tightened instinctively as Rex's warm, wet nose pressed more firmly against her, the rough canvas of her suit the only barrier between his exploratory nudge and her heated flesh. Her breath hitched, a trapped sound swallowed by the immense, silent expanse of the wasteland. This was the edge. The one from the Vault manuals, the one from her own quiet, feverish dreams.
She let her head fall back against the sun-warmed metal of the truck, her eyes fluttering shut. With a trembling hand, she unzipped the top of her vault suit, pulling it down to her waist. The desert air was a cool shock against her flushed skin, raising goosebumps across her chest and the soft curve of her belly. It felt obscene, this bareness under the vast, open sky. It felt like freedom.
Rex watched her, his amber eyes dark with a fierce, primal intelligence. He chuffed again, a low rumble of sound, and his rough tongue swept out, lapping a hot, wet stripe from her navel up between her breasts. Electricity sparked along her nerves. Her fingers tightened in his fur, not to push him away, but to anchor herself.
"Easy, boy," she whispered, though the command was a plea. A request for more. His tongue returned, more purposeful this time, tracing the sensitive underside of her breast before circling a peaked nipple. Her back arched off the metal, a ragged moan tearing from her throat. It was a filthy, wonderful sound, lost to the wind.
He worked her with a playful, dominating focus, his large head nudging her to shift, to present more of herself. He was mapping her, learning her reactions, each wet, rough stroke of his tongue sending shivers of raw pleasure deep into her core. The fabric of her suit was soaked through between her legs, clinging to the swollen ache there. She was a live wire, every sensation amplified by the sheer forbidden thrill of it, her body singing a chorus of need only he seemed to understand.
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## Chapter e
Her body went taut as a wire under Rex’s ministrations, her toes curling against the cracked earth inside her boots. That hot, slick velvet swipe over her nipple made her clit throb in a frantic, near-painful rhythm between her legs. She could feel dampness soaking through the heavy canvas of her suit, her own arousal anointing her thighs, an earthy musk mixing with the scent of sun-warmed fur.
He worked her with a now-familiar confidence, alternating broad, lazy swipes of his tongue that covered her breasts and belly with glistening trails of wetness, and sharp, focused flicks that made her arch off the metal and cry out. His amber eyes watched her, pupils wide despite the bright sun, gauging every hitch in her breath, every tremble that shook her frame. His sheer playfulness was a dominant force; he was discovering her, testing the limits of her pleasure, guiding this quiet dance with patient, predatory intent.
Her fingers were caught in the dense fur at his neck, their grip desperate. It wasn't restraint—it was a plea for him to pull her deeper into the forbidden heat building inside her.
“Oh god, Rex,” she moaned, the words barely audible, ground out by the tension coiling relentlessly in her core. The rough heat of his tongue skirted her sensitive neck, tasting the salt of her sweat. He chuffed softly against her throat, the resonant rumble vibrating through her bones.
His head nudged lower, his wet nose pressing insistently against the hardened button of her zipper. The pressure sent a fresh deluge of wet heat through her. Every rule the Vault had ever taught screamed in her head, but the wind scattered the echoes, leaving only the truth of her need vibrating in the desert air. Her trust was absolute, a silent offering to him. This was her fantasy now, real and feral beneath the vast, indifferent sky. The permission he sought was already given with every ragged exhalation she offered to the wind.
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## Chapter 4
Laura’s fingers trembled as they fumbled with the stiff metal teeth of her zipper. The sound was obscenely loud in the desert’s oppressive silence, a sharp, grating rasp that seemed to echo off the skeletal ruins around them. Rex watched, his breath hot and steady against her thigh, his amber eyes fixed on her hands with unnerving focus. He knew. He always knew.
The zipper gave way, the heavy canvas parting down the front of her suit. She pushed the rough material aside, baring her soft stomach, the pale skin of her inner thighs, and the dark, wet triangle of fabric that clung to her pussy. The air was a cool shock against her overheated flesh, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Rex’s gaze.
He didn't wait for an invitation. His massive head dipped, his wet nose nudging aside the soaked fabric of her underwear. A low, rumbling growl vibrated in his chest, a sound of pure, primal approval. Then his tongue, broad and rough as worn sandpaper, swept up the entire length of her exposed slit.
Laura cried out, her head slamming back against the truck’s rusted hull. The sensation was electric, brutal, and perfect. It wasn't the gentle teasing of a man; it was a claiming. His tongue lapped at her with relentless, hungry strokes, each pass sending violent shivers up her spine. He held her hips pinned with his powerful forelegs, his strength absolute, his control terrifying and exhilarating.
She was completely exposed to him, to the elements, to the dead world watching. Her fingers clawed at the dusty ground, her hips bucking helplessly against his mouth. He worked her pussy with a single-minded intensity, his rough tongue circling her clit before plunging down to taste her entrance, again and again, mapping every slick, desperate fold. The filthy, wet sounds of his lapping filled the air, mingling with her choked, sobbing moans. She was nothing but sensation, a vessel of raw need being filled by the one creature who understood the depth of her hunger.
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## Chapter 5
His massive paws planted firmly on her hips, holding her open and still as his tongue discovered the slick, hidden layers of her pleasure. Laura’s body jolted with each broad, deliberate swipe. “Fuck, Rex,” she gasped, her voice raw against the hot wind. “You’re so good—”
He grunted in response, a possessive noise that vibrated straight through her wet flesh. His rough, canine tongue circled her clit again and again, sliding her hood back with each lazy, maddening lap. She was already leaking onto the rusty ground beneath her, her heavy legs spread obscenely wide. His enthusiasm was overwhelming—messy, untamed, and making her ache in ways she never knew possible.
“Yes, just like that,” she begged, grasping his ears. “Don’t you dare stop.”
He didn’t. His tongue pressed deeper—not inside, but hard against her entrance, then slid straight up her seam, again and again, circling and flicking, stoking the hunger until she thought she’d scream with it. She could feel herself getting sloppier with every second, that silvery tension coiling tighter and tighter at the base of her spine. Laura groaned as she arched upward, throwing one arm over her eyes. Nothing existed but the violent beat of her own heart and Rex’s devoted, wrecking mouth.
A soft growl rumbled in his chest—devotion and dominance in one hot, wet detail. He held her trembling, her body slick and offered, shivering under his sure, relentless attention.
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## Chapter 6
Laura’s trembling hand slid down Rex’s rugged side, her nails digging gently into his fur. “Handsome boy,” she murmured, her voice hoarse with wanting. “My good boy knows exactly how to make me feel good, doesn’t he?”
He responded with a low, approving grunt, his hot breath puffing out against her dripping cunt as his tongue stroked a little firmer. Pleasure shot through her again, sharp and dizzying, and her back bowed upward off the truck’s rusted metal once more. She could feel her own slick wetness covering his muzzle, a raw testament to her hunger, and the dark thrill of his sheer size owning her this way made her gasp.
Sprawled naked in the dirt and ruin, her plump thighs wide around his head, freed completely from the constricting suit clinging to her waist, she looked utterly indecent—and utterly blissful. Her tits were now glazed with spit, her nipples stiff and aching, demanding more attention she wasn’t ready to give them yet. Right now, the sting and sweetness between her thighs were all that mattered, coursing through her like high-voltage current straight from Rex’s knowing mouth.
Her hips rocked forward tirelessly, chasing that velvet roughness, throat humming with praise and pleas. “Don’t you dare stop,” she breathed, sliding her damp palm between them to pet the side of his heavy jaw. “You make me feel so… fucking perfect…”
His amber eyes locked onto hers for a blazing moment as her body jerked beneath him again—and held. She arched hard this time, her mouth open wide in a silent scream while her pussy clamped down desperately, clenching around nothing, denied and starving. He simply watched her, his hot tongue resting flush against her clit as tremors shook her thighs and rode her belly, spilling wet heat without release. Hearts pounding together—hers speeding, his steady—they breathed through the suspended tension cooling slowly under the burning sky.
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## Chapter 7
Laura’s fingers tightened in the dense fur of Rex’s neck, her knuckles white against the dark coarse strands. "Fuck, baby—so good," she gasped, her voice shredded raw by pleasure and the dry desert air. “You know just how to make me feel so good, don’t you? My handsome boy.”
Rex gave a deep, rumbling groan in answer, the vibration echoing straight through her slick flesh as his tongue worked with more determination—not just licking now, but firm, rhythmic pressure against her clit, as if he’d learned exactly the rhythm she needed. His amber eyes stayed locked on her face, watching every ripple of pleasure that crossed it.
She felt her own wetness coating his snout now, the evidence of her need smeared across his fur, and the thought sent another hot wave of filthy thrill through her system. She was spread obscenely wide for him, her pale thighs trembling around his massive head, her body completely open under the empty sky—a chubby vault dweller offered up to her adventurous, playful guardian.
“Yes, yes—right there, don’t stop,” she begged, her words dissolving into a high gasp as the pressure intensified. She was close—so fucking close—her hips stuttering against his hold, her body tightening like a bowstring about to snap. He held her steady, his paws heavy on her hips, not letting her squirm away from the relentless, perfect friction of his rough tongue circling her swollen clit.
She could feel it building, coiling impossibly tight, her breath catching in her throat, her fingers digging desperately into his fur. The world had shrunk to this—the hot wind, the taste of dust, and the raw, feral skill of his mouth bringing her to the very edge.
And then he stopped. Just like that.
Rex lifted his head, his tongue lazily wiping across his muzzle as he looked down at her, panting softly, his expression almost smug. Laura whimpered, her body trembling with denied release, her cunt throbbing with emptiness. “No—Rex, please…” she breathed, her voice trembling.
He chuffed softly, nudging her thigh with his wet nose before turning and padding a few steps away to lie lazily in a patch of sun-warmed dust, as if the whole earth-shattering moment had been nothing more than a pleasant afternoon diversion.
Laura lay there, breathless and aching, soaked and exposed. She was ruined, and she loved it.
---
Half-drunk on pleasure and the sting of the sun, she watched Rex bask in the dirt, his contentment a quiet mockery of the frantic, empty throbbing between her legs.
Her eyes narrowed, her breathing still ragged. She wasn’t done. The Vault had taught her patience, but the wasteland had taught her how to take what she needed.
Pushing herself up on trembling elbows, her naked skin gritty with dust, she called to him, her voice low but firm. “Rex. Get over here.”
His ears twitched. He lifted his head, those intelligent amber eyes fixing on her. He saw her flushed skin, the desperate set of her jaw, the wet sheen still glistening on her thighs. He rose with a lazy stretch, padding over to stand before her, his head cocked.
Her hand reached out, not to his fur, but lower, to the heavy, thick heat of his sheath. He was already half-hard, the impressive weight of his cock beginning to emerge. A thrill, fierce and feral, shot through her. “You started this,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the taut, velvety skin. “Now you’re gonna finish it.”
He chuffed, a soft, huffing sound, and nudged her hand with his muzzle, urging her on. She guided him, turning herself and bending over the hood of the rusted truck, presenting her soaked, aching pussy to him. “Come on, boy,” she breathed, arching her back, pushing her ass out. “Show me what you’ve got.”
He needed no further invitation. His paws found purchase on the metal on either side of her hips, his weight pressing her down. The broad, swollen head of his cock nudged against her entrance, slick with her own arousal. It was immense, a stretch she couldn’t have imagined, a burning, perfect fullness that stole her breath. He pushed forward with a single, powerful thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside her.
Laura screamed, a raw, guttural sound torn from her throat as he filled her completely. He began to move, a relentless, pounding rhythm that was all instinct and raw power. Each thrust slammed her against the truck, the ruined metal groaning in protest. Her fingers scrambled for purchase on the dusty hood, her cries turning into a continuous stream of filthy, begging praise. “Yes! Fuck, Rex, yes! Just like that! Fill me up, you perfect fucking animal!”
His pace quickened, his breathing a series of hot, sharp pants against her back. She could feel the incredible, driving friction of his cock dragging against her deepest parts, the knot at his base beginning to swell, threatening to lock them together. The coiling tension in her belly snapped.
Her orgasm exploded through her, a violent, mind-shattering convulsion that clenched around his thrusting length. She writhed beneath him, her vision whiting out, a wordless scream ripped from her lungs as waves of pure, electric pleasure wrecked her. She felt him pulse deep inside her, his own release hitting in hot, relentless spurts that flooded her, sealing them together in the aftershocks. She collapsed onto the sun-warmed metal, spent and utterly claimed, his weight a heavy, possessive anchor in the dust.
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## Chapter 8
The hot, still air of the wasteland was broken only by their ragged breathing and the soft, sticky sound of their joined bodies. Rex’s knot held them locked together, a thick, throbbing anchor buried deep inside her. Laura lay sprawled and pinned beneath him, her entire body tremoring with the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm of her life. His hot cum pulsed inside her, a steady, claiming flood that made her moan softly into the dusty metal of the truck.
“Oh, fuck, Rex,” she panted, her voice raw and wrecked. “You feel so good… so deep.” Her hand reached back to stroke his flank, her fingers tracing the powerful muscles that had driven into her with such perfect, feral rhythm.
He gave a low, contented grunt in response, nuzzling the sweaty nape of her neck. His weight was immense, comforting, a living blanket in the post-apocalyptic silence. She could feel his heartbeat against her back, a steady drumming in time with the slow, subsiding pulses of her own release.
Then a sound cut through the haze of pleasure—a sharp, metallic *clang*, like a piece of corrugated tin being kicked. It echoed from the ruins just beyond the rusted vehicles.
Rex’s head snapped up instantly, his body tensing above hers. A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through Laura’s spine.
Her own breath caught. Her eyes, glazed with pleasure moments before, went wide. “Shhh, boy,” she whispered urgently, her voice dropping to a terrified hush. “Quiet.”
They were completely exposed, utterly vulnerable. Locked together, unable to separate, they could only listen as the sound came again—closer this time. A footstep on gravel. Then another.
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## Chapter 9
Laura's entire body was a quivering, boneless mess. Rex's throbbing knot kept them fused together, stretched wide and so very full, a steady pulse of his hot, deep release warming her insides. Her skin, slick with sweat, gleamed under the harsh wasteland sun, sticking to the gritty metal of the truck. She felt the heavy, possessive weight of him pinning her down, and a raw, glowing satisfaction radiated from her cunt all through her chest.
“Fuck, Rex,” she panted, voice cracking. “That was…”
He let out a low, rumbling sigh, nuzzling the damp skin of her shoulder blade in response. He was completely content, dozing now, still buried deep within her.
Then came the sound—a sharp metallic scrape.
Rex’s body snapped rigid against hers. A low, deep growl vibrated through her spine, a sound of pure, unadulterated warning.
Laura’s heart, which had just settled, now hammered against her ribs like a trapped animal. Her sweat went cold in an instant. “Shhh, shh, boy,” she breathed, her voice a terrified whisper. “Be quiet. Be still.”
Another scrape, closer this time. Footsteps. Deliberate. Human. The crunch of a boot on gravel. She couldn’t see anything from her position, bent over and speared on the hood of the derelict vehicle, but she could hear them circling, slow and cautious.
Her mind raced, torn between utter mortification and a fierce, sudden defensive instinct. If it was a raider, they wouldn’t just rob her. They’d take one look at her—naked, thick hips in the air, a beast’s knot buried deep in her cunt—and see it for the twisted, perfect submission that it was.
“Quiet,” she begged softly, her fingers digging into the flaking rust. Her body was flooded with one competing urge. To hide. And the wildly inappropriate, treacherous thrill that came from being found.
The footsteps paused just a few meters away. A sharp, curious inhale.
Rex’s growl deepened, reverberating through her trembling body like a threat—or a promise to protect his claim. Laura could only wait, a captive offering on the rusted altar of the wastes, dripping and exposed.
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## Chapter 10
Her skin prickled with fear and exposure, her pussy still throbbing around Rex's fat, pulsing knot, keeping them locked together in this compromising, utterly incredible position. The footsteps stopped just out of sight. A creak of leather, a soft, rasping sigh that sounded nothing like the wind. Then, a voice—gravelly, ancient, but calm.
"Well. Don't see somethin' like that every day."
Laura’s heart thudded against her ribs. Not a raider’s taunt. Something else. Rex’s growl intensified, the vibration a deep, warning tremor through her body.
“It’s… insane,” the voice mused, almost to itself now. “After two hundred years, the wasteland still finds new ways to surprise me.”
Slowly, Laura craned her neck, straining to see over her shoulder. Standing a dozen paces away, leaning on a gnarled walking stick, was a ghoul. His skin was leathery and taut, nose gone, but his eyes were sharp, lucid. He wasn't feral. He was just… old. Wrapped in dusty robes, he watched them with a detached, almost academic curiosity.
Rex shifted, his weight pressing her harder into the metal. A soft, possessive sound rumbled in his chest.
The ghoul held up a skeletal, three-fingered hand. "Easy there, big fella. No need for that. Not gonna touch what's clearly been claimed." He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over Laura’s sprawled, naked form, the way Rex’s knot stretched her wide. "Vault suit. Fresh meat. Thought you'd be all about rules and schedules in there. Guess the wasteland got to you quick."
“It’s… private,” Laura managed, her voice strained. The humiliation was a hot flush, but beneath it, a twisted thrill ran through her. Being seen like this, so thoroughly and primally taken, by a creature that understood the world.
“Oh, it is,” the ghoul chuckled, a dry, rustling sound. “And it’ll be real private in a minute ‘less you want a pack of wild dogs or worse investigatin’ all the noise you two were makin’. You’ve got a loud finish, sweetheart. Echoes for miles.” He gestured lazily with his stick. “He’ll loosen up soon. Stay quiet ‘til then. And when you’re decent, if you’re lookin’ for trade, my camp’s just past the busted red Rocket.”
He began to hobble away, pausing only to add, without looking back, “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Hell, near made my dusty old heart start beatin' again.”
Rex’s growl subsided as the ghoul disappeared behind a crumbling wall. Laura let her head drop back onto the hood, her body trembling with a strange cocktail of terror, adrenaline, and the lingering, exquisite torture of being brutally filled. Rex, sensing the threat was gone, relaxed his weight. With one last, thick pulse of release inside her, his knot began to soften, his cock slipping free with a wet, obscene sound. A final gush of his warm cum trickled down her thigh, mixing with the dust.
She was empty. Spent. Exposed. And more alive than she’d ever been.
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## Chapter 11
Laura’s gaze lingered on the horizon where the ghoul had vanished, the echo of his raspy chuckle still hanging in the air. Her nerves were electric, half with lingering fear, half with a predatory kind of thrill that sparkled through the sore, sticky satisfaction between her legs. She looked back at Rex, at the way he lay with his head on his paws, tongue lolling, watching her with lazy, satisfied possessiveness.
“He called you ‘loud,’” she whispered, a slow, filthy smirk curling her lips. “Guess I am. Guess you just bring that out in me, huh?”
Her fingers trailed through the thick, sticky mess cooling on her inner thigh. It should have disgusted her. The old Vault-Tec training manuals didn’t have a protocol for ‘cleaning a quart of canine seed off your leg in enemy territory.’ But instead of wiping it all away, she scooped a final, slick fingerful and brought it to her lips, looking him square in the eye. She sucked her finger clean with an obscene pop, the wild, musky taste cementing the memory of his possession deep in her.
“Time to get messy with more than just this, boy,” she said, her voice gaining a new, hardened edge. She stood on legs that still felt like jelly, a fresh trickle of his release running down her leg to be absorbed by the dust. With deliberate, unashamed movements, she pulled her soiled vault suit back up over her naked hips, the coarse canvas now a grimy second skin, steeped in the scent of sex and rust. The last of his seed soaked darkly into the fabric at her crotch, a wet, hidden secret against her swollen flesh.
Slinging her rifle over her shoulder, she gave a sharp, low whistle.
“Come on, Rex. Let’s go see what that old fossil has for trade. Might find something better for me to scream into next time.”
She set off toward the crumbling red Rocket sign without looking back, walking with a new sway in her wide hips, every step a small, thrilling ache. Rex fell into step beside her, his massive shoulder brushing her leg—her guardian, her lover, her anchor in the dust. They were a matched set now, two predators painted in the same filth, hunting for their next thrill.