Moira opened her eyes for a brief second and looked out of the broken window to her right, the shards of broken glass still stuck in the frame as painfully near as the the streets below her were away, many times beyond the point where a fall looked remotely survivable.
In fact it was the highest one could get in this city, at least since the radio antenna that used to sit on the roof above her had capitulated to the relentless winds and lack of maintenance.
Moira had climbed it once before it was too late, the height and winds and the metal under her hands that was either rusting or slippery taking a toll on her muscles that were already aching from the forty-five flights of stairs that led up to the roof in the first place, and Moira was not sure if she really regretted not getting another chance.
It had however been the greatest view over what was left of the once great city and its crumbling buildings, and in a world without elevators she felt safer up here than anywhere else in the city, safe enough to sit in a window bare naked, only one swift push away from certain death with the winds pulling in her hair.

For every thing Moira missed two or three things had been added since the fights had started and then subsided to small clashes that were easy to avoid, but in the end they all boiled down to one thing: Freedom.
Looking back to her years before the war it baffled Moira how she had considered herself to be free when in reality she – and everyone else really – had been the complete opposite of it. Maybe the generation before her parent’s one had experienced true freedom with the sexual revolution and advance of transportation technology, but everything after had soon be replaced with even more constraints, regulations against everything remotely fun and then short before the war broke out even regulations against walking on the streets at all times.
And now? No one was there to judge what Moira did, and even if someone was they were likely scavengers like herself and there was a certain understanding between those willing to risk their lives that everything was allowed and no one would interfere unless their own lives were in danger.
Nothing was stopping Moira from grabbing some food from one of the supermarkets without paying.
No cop would fine her for crossing the streets without waiting for a green light.
If she needed to pee she did not have to hide behind cars, terrified of someone walking by and giving her a stern look.
And no security guard would stop her from climbing the stairs to the highest building in town because she wanted some scenery while she masturbated.

And what a scenery it was, from up here she had a perfect vantage point and before the sky had begun to become as foggy as her vision she had been able to make out several roof encampments, even seen the smoke of what she assumed was a clash between military and rebel forces and found it amusing how something that was undoubtly brutal and gruesome when witnessed from close by was nothing than a small funny puff of smoke from up here.

If Moira hadn’t known she had likely burned more calories climbing up than she could reasonable carry in supplies she would have occupied the adjacent rooms as her new home base in a heartbeat, but she realized with sadness that it wouldn’t be feasible in the long run and coming here would never become mundane enough to stop being an incredible luxury.

So Moira had to make the best of her time before she was forced to head back down, and she made sure to take her time, her fingers circling around her clit and nipples with a frequency that was a little bit lower than her body and mind demanded and her breath still going slower than normal rather than faster.

She had taken the time to undress fully and orderly placed her backpack in the corner, normally her paranoia rivaled with her lust enough to make her keep her clothes on and her rifle near in case someone was keen on disturbing her little moment of peace in a world that knew none.

That did its part to keep her from rushing it like she did whenever she took a quick masturbation break during her scavenging hunts, the winds on her naked skin felt warm enough even at this height and with the sun shining through the clouds and then the glass shards that had become milky over time and now sent wonderful light rays across the room that were as relaxing to watch as the life pulsating below her.

They reminded her of the house in the country her grandparent had lived in, in her memory the old windows had distorted the light in the same way during the summer months, and the silence around her was just the same as well, nothing disturbing it for hours while she played, the treehouse of then only having grown a little bit taller as she matured. The type of games she played had also matured, as had the caliber of her rifle – and she was now even allowed to use it without permission.

All in all there was little Moira could complain about. Sure, life had lost some of its luxuries and gained a few formerly unknown struggles, but as far as Moira was concerned the former had always been unnecessary luxuries to begin with and the latter were more adventures and challenges than they were hardships.

Sitting in front of a desk for eight hours a day, that had been gruesome and she didnt miss it for a second. As a matter of fact she would now be able to shoot her boss like she had always dreamed of if they were to meet again, but judging by his appearance when she had last seen him she was pretty sure he didn’t have the physical strength to survive more than a couple of weeks.

That was the beauty of surviving the first months, and then years after the collapse, the body she was caressing now was shaped and strengthened by a training routine that was as simple as effective: Survival.
Moira had never felt more content with her fitness, climbing and running had become normal parts of her life when she used to struggle to find the time and motivation after long hours of work, and it was showing.
Even though she had never been fat or even chubby she had longed for this feeling of accomplishment when looking at herself, and nowadays there was not a single gram of excess fat or a muscle in her body that was too weak when she needed it.
Sure, if she had to climb and run for a full day she noticed the effects the next morning, but she had long swapped muscle aches that left her unable to climb stairs for days for this state of feeling every muscle when it tightened, from her arms when pulling herself up to her stomach muscles tightening when she finally allowed her fingers to dive into her pussy.

Slowly at first Moira let her fingers glide in, not due to a lack of wetness, but only to ensure she got the maximum amount of pleasure from this important first thrust, not stopping until she had run out of finger and her lungs out of air to exhale.
Inhaling was cut short when Moira pulled out her fingers, it felt too good to be true and as always she wondered if she had ever felt such intense pleasure, the memories of thinking that before only faint presences in her mind and bordering on being put in the realm of legends.
Her lungs were craving for air and Moira allowed herself to take a deep breath, filling them with air so much clearer and cleaner than any city dweller would have deemed possible just years ago. There were no exhaust gases in the air, nor the obnoxious smell of bad – or good – perfume that used to fill trains, elevators and meeting rooms.
Only the smell of sex remained, filling the air with an aroma of lust and pleasure, sweat and exhaustion as Moira led her fingers back into the welcoming darkness between her legs.
She had almost forgotten about the rest of her body by the time she pulled her fingers out again, but either instinct or what little control her mind had left over her actions made her bring her left hand up, meandering over her stomach muscles before the walking fingers found their way to her breasts, caressing her nipples that were harder than life on the streets.

She twisted them a bit, stealing a breath of air that escaped her open lips as a long moan before they went up to her hair, bringing chaos to the mess that her haircut had become since the last hair studio had either exploded or simply closed its doors for the last time.

She cut it herself as best as she could, but only to keep it out of harms way and frankly she was pretty sure if it wasn’t for her tits dangling in front of her she could well be mistaken for a guy from the distance. It didn’t matter, in fact Moira had always found long hair to be a nuisance even back in the day with all the washing and trying to bring order into hair that was as rebellious as she felt herself, so cutting it short had only been another step to a freedom she hadn’t known she craved so much.

Whenever her fingertips left her pussy she was able to catch a clear thought before dwindling back into a lustful delirium. Moira remembered how she had heard squealing tires the last time she had been here, then darkness, then she was back down on the streets where she witnessed soldiers struggling out of their toppled car, guns ready but confused and unable to make out the direction of the attack. Or was she? The next time her head got up from under the water she remembered that entering the building had been as uneventful the last as this time, confusing her thoroughly before her fingers once again reminded her of what really mattered.

The sound of something exploding reached her ears, but before Moira could realize it weren’t her nerves and instead something down on the streets it was too late and every part of her body heated up and cooled down at the same time, expanded far beyond the constraints of her body and tightened enough to make her fold up at the same time, almost letting her lose balance. Only years of practice of being asleep one second and in full-on fighting mode the next allowed Moira to keep herself upright as the orgasm waves rolled against the shores of her legs, stomach and spine.

For what felt like an eternity Moira just sat there in the window, letting the wind carry away the last remainders of pleasure as it cleared up the sky, leaving only exhaustion in its wake and making her crave for a book, a bed and a blanket to comfort her. In reality it couldn’t have been more than a few moments before curiosity settled in and she looked down, only to see the smoking remains of a troop carrier and soldiers either lying on the streets or disappearing into the open doors just below her.

Moira jumped down to the floor and began dressing without haste. Her torn jeans, shirt, jacket and the Vintorez rifle were quickly arming and armouring herself against a reality that had forced its way into a dream she wouldn’t have minded to dream a little longer.

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