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Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse

By: nickamano



Day One:

I was thriving here in the so-called apocalypse, no rules but my own morality and my survival talents were finally put to proper use. I felt masculine, strong, able, worthy. In charge of my own life, future, destiny. With no one bossing me around, other than those two, but I was only tied to them because of Emily. I didn't mind her bossing me around. As long as she remained safe.

I sat there under a tree watching them fuck. Which was the story of my life. Watching someone else have all the fun, while I stood guard. The outsider, the loner, the unlucky one. Having to watch while someone else fucked the girl I wanted to be with.

The girl being fucked was Emily O'Brian, twenty-six years old. The man doing the fucking was her long term boyfriend Dean McHugh, who was five or six years older than me.

I saw right through Dean from the outset, he was controlling and manipulative. I'd say abusive but I admit it's a fine line and plenty of people would disagree with my assessment. 

Emily was much younger than him, probably after a father figure and her immaturity demanded someone who could take over, tell her what was best for her and steer her in the right direction. Unfortunately, there were not very many men out there before or after the outbreak, or whatever people call it, that would have the moral fortitude to not take advantage of being put in such a controlling and powerful position. I prided myself that I was such a person. I would treat Emily the way she should be treated, what was best for her, not just influencing her to do whatever I wanted and making her think it was best for her as well.

Anyway, I was sat in the woods, in the late afternoon, by the position of the sun in the blue sky above the partially concealing canopy of emerald leaves.

Dean was lying on his back on the rolled out sleeping bags I had procured for them, his trousers were halfway down his thighs and his shotgun, as ever, only six inches from his right hip. It was a nicely maintained Remington 870 pump action. 

Firearms being such a rarity in Britain, it gave us, well, it gave Dean a distinct advantage. 

Survivors in America and other countries with a freer policy on civilians owning firearms, would probably think of guns as the go to weapon of defence but they were so rare in Britain that we tended not to even bother looking for them. Kitchen knives, replica swords, garden implements and the like were the default defensive weapons for us. Even if we were to come across a gun while looting, ammunition would be even more of a problem. A knife or axe could be sharpened and didn't need replacement ammunition, or constant cleaning and oiling. Dean had a total of six 12 gauge shells. And so far we hadn't been able to find any more supplies.

It was my 'job' to keep a look out for the undead, but I'd come to realise that Emily quite liked an audience. Maybe she liked being watched or maybe she just got off on rubbing my nose in it. Showing off the goods while reminding me, without saying anything, that I could never sample those goods myself. No matter how much I wanted to, how much it made my heart flutter and my guts wrench and my head pound and my dick fill out and stretch the front of my trousers.

She knew I wanted her, had known it for years and had always kept me at arms length. Even when I had saved her life and brought her, like a fool, back to her boyfriend and stuck around with the two of them to keep her alive and safe and protected, all the while hoping for a chance while knowing underneath it would never happen.

I don't know what kept me here with them. Denial? Blind hope? Stupidity? Chivalry? It made me feel like a fool even while I patted myself on the back for staying true to Emily, even when I gained nothing from it myself. Was that chivalry? Or stupidity? Probably a bit of both.

As usual, my cock was aching as I watched her sitting in his lap, totally naked and bouncing her perky young ass cheeks up and down ten-to-the-dozen, while making high, light, gasping noises that made me practically drool.

Sometimes I thought about just going over and trying to join in, trying my luck. However, something always told me that I would end up on the wrong side of the muzzle of that Remington.

I had even considered killing Dean, but I was no caveman, Emily would hate me and besides, it was morally wrong. Damned morals. No one else seemed to be bothering with them these days, why the Hell were they sticking to me like super-glue? It simply wasn't fair.

I tried to take my mind off the unfairness by filling my senses with Emily and her body. In the moment.

Now Emily's no super model. She's very much the girl next door. Five foot three in the sensible walking boots I scavenged for her. She has collar length straight dark hair in a bob cut, though it had been a while since she had cut it and it was getting a bit long and unkempt. She had a dainty figure, curvy without being too bodacious. A couple of years ago she was on the verge of being fat. Rounder face, noticeable belly. Huge arse. 

But she had started going to the gym before the outbreak and since we had started out on this rove, with relatively little food (I was keeping us healthy and well-fed enough, of course), she had lost a lot of the weight and had really toned up with the ten or fifteen hours of walking we tended to do per day. Other than the not quite salon beautiful hair and the lack of make up, I hadn't seen her looking better.

Of course, being buck naked and in the throes of sexual gratification did a lot to rose-tint the way she looked in my eyes. Emily in a good mood was the loveliest sight you can imagine. Large, expressive eyes alive with intelligence and mirth, her smile was wicked and warming and brought her face to life. However, I rarely saw her in a good mood. 

In fact I don't think I have ever managed to bring out the best in her, nor she in me if I'm really honest. I was always flustered and unable to relax when we'd been colleagues in work, embarrassed and constantly making a fool out of myself, no matter how hard I tried to be attractive to her. I think she saw my attraction for her after a few months and was equal parts embarrassed, put out by my liking her when she was already happy with Dean and also maybe a bit annoyed with herself that it had gone on for so long without her even noticing what my friendliness and attentiveness actually meant. And maybe I was coming across as a bit desperate or not taking no for an answer. Not that I ever actually asked the question. 

Anyway, I'm getting distracted again. Let me paint the erotic picture as I saw it. 

Emily O'Brian, naked and riding cowgirl on her boyfriend's lap. Her taut B-cup breasts shuddering around enticingly, when they weren't clutched in Dean's big and aggressively molesting hands. Her lush, perky and succulent arse cheeks were doing their own little jiggles in time to the off beat of her up and down hip work upon his solid, engorged and ruddy looking cock.

She had a few tattoos, in my opinion soiling her pale creamy flesh. A scattered stars, creeping vines and leaves pattern played across the small of her back, her boyfriend's name was etched down her ribs under her left arm in a swirling italic script and a colourful rose, vine and butterfly design cascaded from halfway down her right calf to halfway down the top of her foot.

All she was wearing was a little pendant collection including a little silver ring and a gold crucifix that bounced and jingled between her rhythmically animated breasts, that I really really wanted to be sucking on and burying my face between. 

I also felt a desperate and redundant desire to bury my face between the succulent cheeks of her enticing young arse to suck at the lips of her erotically glistening and practically hairless pussy.

Of course, Dean's cock was in the way and, as usual, it was stuffed like a balthazar champagne cork in the neck of a baby-sham bottle up Emily's sexy backdoor. 

Dean had convinced her that taking up the arse was the safest option for sexual intercourse, no matter how painful it was for Emily. He had insisted, even though there was absolutely no evidence to suggest its accuracy, that pregnancy was too great a risk, not only with the lack of hospital facilities but also with the risk of still birth. According to him, no woman could possibly want an undead child inside them, getting hungry and deciding to eat their way out from inside.

Emily, of course, had swallowed it hook-line-and-sinker and now she readily took it up her arse whenever Dean wanted a piece. Which was all the fucking time, so it seemed to me. Up to three or four times a day.

It was like he had replaced the set meals of the day with sexual intercourse. They were at it before we got going in the morning, lunch time after we had eaten, in the evening once we had set camp and then one last time just before bed. Admittedly, it wasn't always sodomy. There was a lot of cock sucking going on, a little pussy sucking when Emily whined that she hadn't had any in an age. And if either or both hadn't been able to bathe in a couple of days, occasional hand jobs had to suffice. Body odour was much more of an issue when daily bathing and the washing of clothes proved difficult to accomplish.

I was simultaneously enraptured by the constant sex, the showing off of the body I had wanted to stick my cock into for the last six or seven years and violently frustrated that it was going on so often and in such close proximity and yet I wasn't allowed or offered any of the fun. It was like torture. I was jealous of Dean and hated him at the same time for his, in my eyes, heartless manipulation and control of the girl I desired. 

As far as I was concerned, ninety percent of their sexual activity was geared towards Dean emptying his balls, either in, on or in the general direction of Emily. It was all for him and he did very little to satisfy her at all. But even that didn't play into my hands because she seemed to cum anyway just by riding him, or being fucked by him. She even seemed to enjoy deep-throating him and swallowing his cum. She just didn't see the unfairness or that he was callously using her at every given opportunity.

And by the way, I had long since given up trying to show her the truth about Dean. She wouldn't listen, wouldn't hear of it and took offense at my obvious (to her, I thought I was being subtle) badmouthing of her precious, beloved man.

Something snapped in me this time. I don't really know caused it what or why. Maybe it was the obvious pleasure she was deriving in her own uncomfortable and submissive anal ride, while he spanked her harder and harder to make her ride him faster and quicker, her whimpers and protests encouraging him to spank that delectable ass even harder, calling her a dumb whore and a little slut and a dirty masochist. 

And then him looking at me suddenly with that look of superiority, of victory, of abject sadistic pleasure. I'm convinced he got off as much in my redundant frustration and pointless desire as he did at having his dick rammed up his sultry girlfriend's hot, little, bouncy ass.

The domination seemed to set it off in Emily and she started to buck and writhe and make more noise, cries and whimpers and gasping curses and that set off Dean and he started to cum up her arse.

I made my decision then and there and acted on it. 

As his spunk started to shoot, as I imagine, in great flooding gouts like a shaken up six pack of coke cans going off inside her delectable and tight little super-hot anus, I got up, grabbed my pack and stormed off into the woods, determined that they had used and humiliated me for the last time and that they were on their own and I would be better off without them.

And they would regret the way they treated me and that Emily would realise how much I had done for them both and that she would be better off with me after all, leave Dean and come looking for me.

I realised, even as the continuing cacophony of their mutual orgasms filling the woods died off and was superceded by the sounds of the wind in the trees and birdsong and the like, that I shouldn't go too far away. Just incase Emily couldn't find me when she did come to her senses and leave that abusive prick for me.



It wasn't really a snap judgment on my part. It had been on the cards for a while.

She had approached me one time, face to face (no cowardly texts or Facebook messages these days), she'd been nervous and embarrassed and uncomfortable but it had come out as defensive and angry. I remember there had been daffodils flowering in the back garden of the house we had been hiding out in, I could see them behind her, so it must have been early spring. By the ambient heat it must be mid to late summer by now.

As I climbed a sturdy sycamore tree and started to tie up my camouflaged sleeping bag, which I had carefully secured inside a hammock (I had found it to be the safest sleeping arrangement, Zombie's can't climb trees), the whole conversation replayed itself through my anguished mind as it had countless times over the last four or five months.

"...I appreciate what you do for us, I really do, but I can't return what you feel for me, I just don't feel that. And even if I did it wouldn't make any difference 'cause I love Dean. I just want it to be plain, out in the open no misunderstandings."

"I know you love him, I can see that, but to be blunt Em, that hope, that you'll someday see the worth in me and change your mind is basically what's keeping me here."

"I've just said though Jay, I do see your worth and I appreciate it, but it has nothing to do with this, me and Dean love each other. And you aren't my type anyway!"

"But you haven't really got to know me well enough to say that!"

"I know enough and I am saying that! It wouldn't matter if you were my type I'm with Dean and that's all there is to it. End of!"

"Then I don't see the point in staying anymore."

She baulked at that, surprised and taken aback. But it made no difference.

"That's up to you. I don't want you to go but if you feel you have to I'm not going to stop you."

I stayed all the same, I don't know if Emily spoke to Dean about the conversation but I didn't really speak to either of them for a few days and nights. Just busied myself with the hunting and the setting up camps and searching for supplies.

So, here I was, having finally made my departure from them, snug and secure in my sleeping bag-hammock, my traps laid out on the forest floor. Squirrel, birds and rabbits seemed to be the staples these days, along with any nuts and berry's I found. My weekend survival and orienteering past-time was really paying off for me in this new world. 

Even though I had left them behind, I felt guilty about it and felt like I should be on hand to protect them if they ran into trouble. So I kept a discreet eye on them. At least, that was what I told myself.

I could see the flicker of their fire through the trees. They were out of ear shot but using the light of their fire, which was far too big and dangerous in its potential of attracting not only zombies, attracted like moths to the pretty dancing light and the inviting heat source, but also for the small gangs of marauding scavengers who had lower morals than I did and wouldn't think twice about taking supplies away from people who already had them. They'd more than likely take Emily too, either then and there for a bit of fun and leave her to die in the woods or drag her off and force her to join their group as a plaything. I'd seen both cases happen before and it was never pretty.

I used to think anarchy wouldn't be too bad, that everyone has their own moral code and the majority would be pretty compatible. How I was wrong! Once people were hungry, unrestrained by laws and afraid, morality, compassion and empathy went out of the window.

I took my binoculars out, which were in my rucksack that I had secured to the trunk of the tree within easy reach, along with my 'homemade' weapons harness, and trained them on the fire and on Emily and Dean beside it.

They were fucking again and I lay there watching with a sort of redundant horny fever. In reality I was too far away and far too trust up in my sleeping bag to be able to get to their camp in time to help them should anything bad happen. 

All I could do was watch the live porn performance, simultaneously enjoying Emily going at it while, all the while, writhing inside with jealousy and desire.

This time, Dean had her on her hands and knees on their stacked sleeping bags, he had one hand hooked around her throat, pulling her head up and arching her back, while the other laid open-handed slaps onto her reverberating, fleshy buttocks. 

Once again he was sodomising her, slamming his cock up her pliant arse with fast and deep punishing thrusts.

I could practically see the sweat splashing in rivulets and whipping Emily's naked flesh as Dean drove into her taut young arse hole with his fast, hard, thrusts.

As I watched them, I started to wonder why they were both so complacent about the potential dangers all around them, why they seemed to be so unconcerned by the idea of zombies stumbling over their tent in the night, or potentially worse, roaming scavengers.

I lay there, a little awkwardly in my hammock, watching Emily's pale, tattooed flesh glowing in the fire light and gleaming with a thin layer of perspiration as her boyfriend humped against her cute perky buttocks, and went over the logical possibilities. And pretty soon I came to the conclusion that it was most likely my doing.

They had taken me for granted. I had more often than not been moving ahead of them either leading them along a path that avoided trouble or killing zombies before they ever came into contact with Emily and Dean. Keeping all the dangers at arm's length. Therefore they hadn't been in imminent danger themselves for a long time and I think they must have started to take me for granted, started to forget the danger that zombies and scavengers represented and underestimated the constant peril that surrounded us all, all of the time.

I turned the binoculars on Emily's face for a while and my heart raced at the exquisite lustiness of her sex face. The tenseness in her pursed brow, the pouting, slack, saliva-glossed lips, her flaired nostrils. She looked so sexy when she was taking a cock, even if it was Dean's.

I must have fallen asleep soon afterward because the next thing I remember was a weird dream. 

I was sitting on a wooden dining chair, unable to move, in the middle of a pitch black, empty warehouse under a brilliant spotlight. Emily was dancing around my chair, happy, joyful dancing. Big beaming smile on her pretty face. Full of the joys of spring. And obviously enjoying the way she was flirting and being all playful and seductive, teasing me, tempting me, leading me on. My erection grew up big and fast like a salami snaking down my trouser leg. And the minute she spotted it, her eyes lit up and she playfully leaned over and popped it just like a pin into a balloon. And then went back to dancing, causing my erection to regenerate over and over. And each time she would playfully pop that balloon. 

And while she danced she would tear off her clothes as though they were made of tissue paper, though, instead of luxurious naked flesh underneath, she came out in a new garment, a bunny costume, with cute floppy ears and a little tail, as Velma from Scooby Doo, as a pig tailed school girl, a bi-spectacled secretary, a police officer. Each costume created a renewed erection which was promptly popped with the little, gleaming, stainless steel pin.

And above us, big as a hot air balloon, like the Puppet Master, was Dean McHugh, or at least his head and hands. He was looking down and laughing maniacally while his hands manipulated the invisible puppet strings that were making Emily do her seduction dance.

Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse Day 02



I awoke to the devilish laughter of Dean echoing in my ears. Which promptly coalesced from dream memory to real world sounds of the twittering song of a woodland wren, or some such songbird. It was dawn already. 

Since the end of everything survivors tended to rise and retire with the dawning and setting of the sun and we counted the passing of days by the phases of the moon.

I took a good look around the surrounding woods, searching for danger signs. Then got out the binoculars and checked Emily and Dean's camp. They looked safe enough, still sleeping in their little tent. There were no signs of disturbance and no dangers in sight near to them.

I got down from my tree, bathed quickly in the nearby stream, gathered up my equipment and set off northeast, moving diagonally parallel to where Dean and Emily would be headed once they got moving. 

They were following the northwest road toward the coast. I had been leading them, following the path of the road but staying just out of sight of it, in the woods. Most of the roaming scavengers still used roads to travel by which made them dangerous for small groups.

There was enough morality, residual desire and guilt in me to stop me going too far away from her. Just incase she ran into trouble. Not that, realistically, I would be able to do much from so far away. Still, it kept me from straying too far.

It felt good to be on my own again. To move at my own pace, to not have to wait for stragglers, to not have to worry about anyone but myself for once. Of course, in the back of my mind I was busy worrying about Emily, if she was still safe, but I resisted the urge of go back and check on her and instead plunged deeper into the woods.

*****

It was mid morning before I stumbled across the little cottage. I spotted its white washed exterior through the dappled curtain of summer foliage and undergrowth, saplings and bracken and brambles, as I trundled through the woods following what I assumed was a deer track. The cottage must have been a little holiday home or something, off the main road by a good mile and barely accessible by a overgrown track that was little more than two tyre-cut ruts in a trail made through flattened woodland undergrowth. 

I had learned a few things in my scavenging experiences one of which was travel light but not to dump your existing supplies where people can stumble across them and steal them off you. I climbed a tree and secured my pack and weapon harness to the trunk, keeping only my hand held weapons on my belt, which included a number of kitchen knives, a hand axe and a claw hammer. My main weapon, that I always took with me into building searches, was the antique but razor sharp wakizashi. The Japanese short sword was ideal, in fact designed, to be used indoors when the full length samurai sword would have been too long and cumbersome.

The front door was locked, but only by the yale lock and an old credit card dealt with that in a second.

I was hit with the usual stale musty smell of houses that hadn't been aired in months, but not with the tell tale scent of rotten meat that would give me a zombie or corpse warning.

Saying that I stumbled into my first zombie in the hall, practically behind the door. He, an old man before he turned, was pretty fresh and showed no signs of decay yet. Which explained the lack of usual zombie scent.

He was lying on the floor, struggling to get up apparently surprised by my sudden appearance. He was trying to lunge for me and get up at the same time and failed in both cases. I put him down straight away with a huge, driving short sword slice to his skull, separating his brain and spinal cord.

I only started to examine him after I was certain he was no longer a threat. 

He smelled strongly of disinfectant and I noticed that his chino style, tan coloured trousers were liberally stained at the crotch. He might have been in his sixties, had gray, slightly wild hair and a matching wispy beard. He wore a check shirt, that wasn't tucked into his trousers and an unbuttoned waistcoat.

Zombies are slow and lumbering and generally easy to avoid. The only times they really posed a dire threat was if you were panicking, if you found yourself cornered or if there are a lot of them tightly packed together. Then again, if you come up against them in significant numbers you're really going to be in trouble.

There is also the fact that while Human's get tired and require sleep, zombies don't. They never stop coming after you. There were also loads of unanswered questions, for example, if their senses were the same as ours, what kind of memory they had, long term, short term or goldfish. 

There wasn't much of interest in this one's pockets, a set of small steel keys, a bottle of pills that I thought were for treating angina. Maybe that's how he died. There were no bites on him anywhere. I moved on.

It was a small bungalow with a simply lay out. A corridor led from the front door to the back bedroom with rooms off it to the left and right. Left: front bedroom and bathroom. Right: living room and kitchen. A back door in the kitchen led to a small walled in garden, now overgrown.

There was little to take other than tinned food and fresh clothing. Most of my weapons and survival gear were good quality and I'd only replace items that needed replacing. I was no bodybuilder and couldn't carry too much weight on my back and still be able to defend myself.

One thing he did have that was interesting was a petrol driven generator, something like a grand's worth of kit. He had it set up in the kitchen and was running the fridge-freezer off it.

I checked the fridge-freezer and found it was chock full of freshly caught and killed livestock. Mostly rabbits and squirrels and a few chickens and other birds. A lot of it was skinned and stripped. Just unrecognisable hunks of raw meat. Some was bagged up some ready to be skinned and prepared.

I wondered, beyond what he had it all stocked up for, how he was doing his hunting. Did he set traps like me? Or was he a go-out-and-find-em style hunter. And if so, what weapons did he use? A bow? A hunting rifle? A shotgun?

Any thoughts of searching around for new weapons was voided from my mind, like a flushing toilet, the moment I ventured into the back bedroom.

The noise initially alerted me what what to expect - a strange gargling version of standard zombie groans, growing more and more ferocious and animated as I got closer to the room.

However, the reek of disinfectant was the first thing that hit me, with a faint undercurrent of air freshener scent. The next thing that hit me was the brightness of the room. It was white washed floor to ceiling. There were none of the usual trappings of a bedroom, like a bed or wardrobe or chest of drawers. There was a rectangular dining table pushed up against the wall under the window opposite the door. And on the right hand wall was an archetype medicine cabinet. All white with mirrored doors. And that was all the furnishings in the room. Even the floor was white tile effect linoleum. Behind the door to my left were plastic gallon containers of industrial disinfectant, a mop and bucket, and other cleaning equipment. And something like a dozen aerosols of air freshener.

There was also a big carving knife suspended from a nail in the same wall behind the door.

However, the first thing that caught my attention once I stepped into the room before all of the interior decor, was the stark naked female arse mooning me from the table under the window.

I could tell from the dull, bluish-gray hue to the once pink flesh, that the naked arse was undead. My eyes were drawn to the pouting, slick, pussy lips that were now a dark, muddy shade of gray brown and above it a prominent ruddy star of the undead woman's anus.

My eyes readjusted, pulling back and taking in the rest. There were two female zombies chained up in the bedroom.

Even in their undead corpse state they were undeniably hot. Sexual beings. 

Taking a step back I could have recognised the sexuality was purely in their voluptuous, over-ripe bodies, the way they were dressed and the fact that they were obviously shackled and arranged as sexual toys for the now dead man in the hall.

But I was in the moment and even looking them over was enough to get my underused phallus to fill out and harden. My heavy, blue balls, too long without attention, tingled insistently.

As with their departed owner, I could see no sign of the cause of their infection or devolution to animated corpse. They were to all intents and purposes pristine. There were no signs of decay, even though the whole room was suffused with the strong odours of disinfectant and air freshener. 

Maybe he had snatched them as living women and out of some kind of sick necrophilic fetish, choked or drowned or suffocated them, turning them into zombies so he could have his little undead harem or slave room or whatever.

Or maybe he had found them recently turned, liked the look of them and hauled them back home and kept them as fresh as he could. Who knows.

Bent over the table, doggie style, with her feet on the floor was the elder of the two. It was pretty much impossible to tell the ages of the undead, even the fresh, un-rotted ones. I put her in her thirties somewhere, though maybe that was an under estimate. 

She could well have been a barmaid, she was typical of the stereotype. Very busty, full hips, round face, full lips. Some would describe her as plump but she wasn't really. No more than Emily was. But she was a hell of a lot curvier.

She was wearing an unbuttoned white blouse, a pleated mock-leather mini skirt, striped knee socks and black ankle boots. But her most striking feature was her punk styled hair. It was dyed azure, the left side shaved to a hairs breadth stubble from her temple around the back of her ear with its multiple piercings. It was cropped at the nape of her neck and the right side had been left long, I suppose to be combed across her right eye, emo style. Of course, it was unkempt and needed a wash.

Examining her hair brought me to her face, which was pretty, even with the wide open eyes devoid of sentience and full of the usual desire to eat brains. She had a nasal stud, a brow piercing and a tongue stud in too. Her make up was thick Egyptian style eyeliner, crimson lips, pink blusher, but the blue-gray of undead flesh was still visible. 

There was something wrong with her mouth and it took me a moment or two to figure it out. Her jaw seemed to be loose. Dislocated or maybe broken. And she didn't seem to have any teeth at all. Her gums were tattered and scabby, her tongue flopped aimlessly and pinkish drool matted her hair and face to the wood of the table top.

I wondered if it had been an experiment to take away a zombie's weapons or maybe an attempt to make a zombie take a cock in her mouth without biting it off.

I leaned in for a closer look and the zombie babe lurched for me with a throaty gurgle, rage and desire in her big brown eyes and a slackly open and danger-less, toothless mouth.

I jerked back in spite of myself and straightened up with a frown, throwing a final glance over the cuffs, chains and pad locks that held her wrists and ankles to the four legs of the table.

Then I turned my gaze away from 'Blue' and over to my left, to the other zombie hottie who was chained to the plasterboard wall with steel chains and pad locks, looped around her upper chest, snaking under her arms and around her waist. 

She, I would guess, was a little younger, twenties I'd say. She looked fresher, in a more youthful way, not a less decayed way. She was more goth than punk. Black vest top, more like a bustier or something, with a on display decolletage, a monochrome tartan mini skirt over spider-web hold up stockings and black combat boots.

There was a large ring gag stuffed into her cherub-bow lipped mouth. She was more slender and prettier than Blue, and her tits might have been even bigger but it was hard to tell with the artificially promoted cleavage. 

Her straight bobbed hair was black with red dyed tips and fringe. 

She reminded me of Emily when I had first seen her on her first day at work when she was barely twenty. She sent my erection from ballistic missile to full on nuclear.

There was a pendant housed in her very generous cleavage. A little silver feline, sitting up and licking at a forepaw. So I called her 'Cat'.

Though distracted by the two zombie hotties and increasingly horny by their presence and their promise, I examined the rest of the room carefully. The medicine cabinet proved the most interesting. It was stocked full of boxes of condoms, lubricants, bottles of water and alcohol, an enema kit and a huge jar of what I assumed to be viagra tablets.

I sat down in a little chair in the corner of the room to the right of the door and just looked at them and thought to myself. This might not be too bad a place to rest for a couple of days. It was pretty secluded, the small size made it easy to defend or escape from, in theory. Plus there was this interesting little sexual distraction that I was getting more and more intrigued by. 

I was sorely tempted. It had been literally years since I had had any kind of sexual encounter that wasn't attached to my wrist. 

The morality was a little dubious. I didn't consider myself a rapist, they were dead and the idea of consent was irrelevant in these circumstances. Wasn't it? And at the same time, if they had been free from their chains they wouldn't have hesitated in trying to eat me on sight.

Or was I trying to convince myself that it was okay? Give myself a reason to let myself have some fun at a woman's expense for a change, even if they were dead women. 

And the idea of chivalry towards dead women, however animated they still remained, was just foolish wasn't it?

I quickly snapped down the uncomfortable rising of the term 'necrophile' and stood up with a new determination as I had made up my mind and was now set to make preparations to stay the night. If not a day or two.

*****

While I secured the house and brought my belongings inside and settled myself, eating and exploring the cupboards and drawers and the shed and greenhouse in the back garden, a new realisation struck me, something I'd learned about zombies and put to the back of my mind as essentially useless and irrelevant, until now.

Zombies, like human's grew more lethargic and for want of a better word, pliant on a full stomach. Feed them enough and for a while, they are peaceful, almost dormant, their appetite is slaked and appetite is the singular driving force for a zombie.

And suddenly the fridge-freezer made sense. The old man had been feeding the zombie hotties regular meals of raw animal meat to keep them sedate and relatively safe. It was a clever idea, like keeping a psychopath doped up on sedatives.

In a cupboard I found a couple of food processors. He wouldn't have taken the risk of removing that ring gag to feed Cat and then put it back on again in order to fuck her face whenever the desire took him. He would have blitzed the meat into a soupy mush and then spoon fed her or piped it straight down her throat, I guessed.

I decided to replicate my assumption and see what happened. They both gobbled down their platefuls like good little girls. And it was surprisingly easy to shovel the pulped meat down Cat's gaping throat and she swallowed the stuff almost gratefully, the typical zombie groaning becoming something more akin to a purr as she greedily gobbled the meal. 

I also realised that Blue was having a similar problem with eating to Cat, though for slightly different reasons. I assumed the old man had done something rather harsh to her in his first attempt to create a safe and bite-free zombie blow-job not only removing her teeth but also loosening the bite-down strength of her jaw. Whatever he had done, dislocation or somehow severing tendons maybe, it had left her jaw slack with no strength in the shutting and no ability to keep her mouth closed. Therefore she was unable to chew solid food. So I had to use the blitzed soup for her as well.

I came to the conclusion that Blue's mouth would probably be useless as a fuckable orifice, which was why Cat still had her undamaged jaw and only the ring gag to keep her from biting down on a thrusting cock.

I left them alone for a half hour to let their meals settle and had my own meal of spit-roast rabbit and some blackberries and mushrooms and wild carrots and a handful of ripe tomatoes that I found in the back garden. I took two of the Viagra tablets at the same time, just in case. 

However, I was jittery and distracted, my cock at half mast all the while and my balls tingling. It was like they knew they were gonna see some action and were impatient for it to start. So, even as I was chewing on the last bit of roasted rabbit, I found myself up on my feet and heading into the back bedroom to begin the night's entertainment with the two zombie hotties.

Of course, the zombie pieces of arse were still chained up, unable to move and though vocal, as if they knew something was going to happen, they were somewhat relaxed, satiated by their meals and not showing much in the way of agitation.

I was a touch anxious about the state of them. I knew they were already turning, their flesh unable to keep away the rot and decay that took over all forms of dead flesh, but I couldn't smell anything yet, and apart from the gray hue to their flesh, the lack of anything living behind their eyes and the slightly doped up facial expressions, they seemed normal enough. I was just wary about getting too close. I doubt, unless you have a necrophile fetish, there could be any better kind of a mood killer than your prospective lover stinking of death and rotting flesh.

By now my horniness was dictating my actions. And I wouldn't have been able to change my mind or walk away now that I was in there.

I started with Cat. I didn't bother trying to shove my tongue through the ring gag and into her mouth, I'd be tempting fate, worse than the smell of rotting flesh had to be the taste of it surely? Besides, there didn't seem any point, it's not like she'd be trying to kiss me back. 

I got my hands onto her huge, seemingly natural, tits instead. I shoved both hands down the neckline of the low cut top, instantly taken aback by the cold and clammy feel of her skin. There was a coating of cold sweat between her breasts, though they were still lovely and soft and inviting to the touch and once again, my cock hardened to the extreme. 

As my horniness increased, my conscience and sense of guilt diminished, crushed down to a small weight in the base of my guts, so small it was easy to ignore and let my lusts and frustration lead me.

Wanting to see more, I grabbed at the neckline of her top and tore at it. It took three hard tugs to get the fabric to tear but tear it did and her massive naked breasts tumbled free, falling into my hungry, eager hands.

I spent a good five minutes mauling those incredible tits. They reminded me of the mouth watering porn babe 'Siri'. 

I hefted them and squeezed them hard, squashing them between my fingers, unconcerned about hurting Cat, after all she was dead. 

I crushed them together into the centre of her chest, took the long fingertip nipples between my fingers and thumbs and pinched and pulled them, bounced he big jugs by my grip of her nipples.

Cat seemed to be making an nondescript mewling noise that could have been a form of zombie groan or possibly a feminine moan. Or, to be fair, any number of other possibilities. 

She dipped her head languidly, looking down at her chest as I tortured her tits and a flood of bubbly saliva splashed out of her forced open mouth and collected in her cleavage and all over the upper curves of her huge tits. I laughed at her guttural reaction and the helpful application of lubricant and carried on working hard on those huge, soft, malleable jugs.




Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse Day 02



The splattered drool dictated what came next and I yanked my cock out of my rugged cargo pants with equal amounts of lust and desperation and drove it straight into her cleavage, pressuring her tits tightly around it with both encompassing palms and once I was securely embedded, I started to fuck her tits with abandon. 

I grunted loudly with each chest-humping, driving, power-thrust into Cat's cleavage and the undead girl started to amusingly accompany me with her own soft, guttural, zombie groans. It could have been a protest or just a form of mimicry or something. 

And then Blue joined in and it made the room sound like some kind of geriatric whorehouse for a while.

Eventually, after enjoying fucking her lush cleavage to the full, I let go of her heavy tits, grabbed her head in one hand and with the other pushed my slick, throbbing erection through the doughnut hole in the ring gag and dove it all with way in with one firm thrust.

I felt the thick leathery texture of her slick tongue playing along the underside of my rock hard shaft as I thrust across it, a momentary painful rasp of a sharp molar on me and then there was a momentary resistance of the entrance to her throat, for just a second until, with an extra hard jerk of my hips, her oesophagus was forced open and my cock drove into her throat, until her lips were mashed hard against my pubic hair and my balls slapped like conkers against her chin. 

She gave an involuntary shudder and gagged in a loud and very human-like way and I felt cold saliva coat my shaft.

I held it down there knowing the dead don't need to breathe and enjoyed her mouth filling with saliva and basting my super-hard shaft. I gyrated my hips against her face for a few minutes, watching her slow struggles and tears trickle from her wide, lifeless eyes before I was ready for a skull fuck.

I drew back and thrust forward slowly, feeding her my whole shaft, drew back again until the rubber coated ring encircled my crown and then thrust all the way in again.

I picked up the pace, bracing my feet, holding her hair in two tight gripping fists while I sawed and then hammered and then pounded my large, achingly hard throbbing cock in and out of her tight, slick, throat. There was even some residual warmth in her throat, probably from her muscles moving, caressing my tender sensitive shaft, instinctively attempting to swallow the invader again and again.

Her tongue lolled and flopped like a fish out of water against the underside of my blurringly quick, driving erection, making the sensations that little bit more delightful.

I felt the pleasure cascading, boiling, ascending through my increasingly rapid and desperate thrusts. I felt my balls tighten as my hips went into overdrive, erratic, aggressive, violent.

I could have broken her nose I was slapping my groin into her face so hard, I certainly would have bruised her lips, but I didn't care as she gagged and groaned and coughed. 

Her eyes went wide and rolled back in her skull, blood tinged mucus trickled from her nose and saliva sprayed from the corners of her mouth, her lips slick and gleaming with her drool.

And then, with a wheezing laughing roar of pure passion-filled release, I exploded into her mouth.

I slammed my meat all the way in and let her have it, right down her throat, two huge watery bursts that felt like a thunderclap from my balls, ripping along my solid shaft.

I pulled out after the second burst let rip in her face and hair and then buried my pulsing shaft between her tits again plastered the remainder into her cleavage and over her huge, quaking tits. 

I was panting by then, bowled over by the intensity of my orgasm and the sheer animal delight of using her without any thought to her welfare. She was dead, of course, what did her welfare matter? 

The desire for more, the feeling that I wasn't satisfied yet and the tablets I had taken all conjoined and pressed me to go after more straight away and I turned from the moaning, cum drowned and drooling mess that was the ring gagged Cat and headed for Blue, who was ready and able for doggie style cock action.

I was already lubricated and grabbed her icy fleshed arse in a brutal, bruising, two handed grip, letting my stone hard erection slap down against the cleft of her perky buttocks. 

I used the iron hardness of my cock and a little shifting of my impatient hips to position my swollen, purple helmet between her pussy lips that seemed to have been liberally lubed by the old man, either by leftovers of his own liquid passion or anointed by Vaseline or baby oil or whatever he had used, and let out a visceral primal howl as I drove my erection into her. She responded with an highly animated (for a zombie) groan and writhing movement, as much as she was able to, sandwiched between the chains and the table top.

I slammed into her, absolutely as hard and violently as I had ever wanted to. It was a hate fuck, an act of mindless brutality and violence. I was Mister Hyde in a Victorian brothel. I was the Minotaur enjoying my latest virgin sacrifice. I was elemental in my violent rape of this undead zombie woman. My fingers dug into her buttocks, my nails scratching the flesh, bringing up pearls of blood.

How I didn't tear off the flesh and muscle of her arse cheeks with my bare hands I don't know. 

All the while she was howling and writhing as animatedly as their kind get when they're feasting on a captured human victim.

I'd like to think, to justify myself, by saying that I was venting all of my rage and terror that these things had bestowed upon all our lives since the world ended. That I was releasing my own desperate fear. That I was avenging in my own small way all the evils the zombie's had done to my friends and family and loved ones. But that was all just bullshit. 

I was out of control. I was an animal. A caveman. 

Brutal, violent, unhindered by remorse or conscience or morality. I was committing an atrocity. Right then and there I was insane. Evil. Ugly. Sadistic. Corrupt. 

And I loved every single second of it.

After I gained a little self control, if not sanity, I saw her anus and I yanked myself out of her weeping, engorged cunt and slammed myself unceremoniously, and with infinitely more violence than I had used on Cat's mouth and throat, all the way into Blue's tight little rectum. 

She let out a classic zombie groan and a little full body shudder in response.

But I hardly noticed, I was too engulfed in my own lust to think much about anything but the feel of her tightly constricting anus gripping like a death-grip fist.

I hammered her arse like a demon, snarling and pummeling her broad hips, smashing her with my so-hard-it-was-painful erection, pushing my finger nails into her bruised flesh and slamming my swinging ball sack against her well used pussy.

I only managed a couple of minutes of ten-to-the-dozen anal destruction thrusting, before my balls empted themselves right up her tight, cool arse. My climax accompanied by a primal roar of intense release from me and a strange wheezing, zombie groan from Blue.

*****

Afterwards, as I washed and I disinfected myself, the worries crept in. My cock looked raw and scratched and it tingled slightly but I was sure I was just being paranoid. I found and applied some antiseptic cream and then got undressed and settled down for the night. 

After feeding the zombie women to hopefully keep them quiet and placated for the night, I set myself up for getting a peaceful, restful night's sleep of my own.

As I lay there in the bed I had chosen to use, my weapons and supplies within easy reach, my thoughts quickly developed into a desire to go and have another turn at the zombie babes. I wanted to fuck Cat as well. She was very steamy for a dead chick, but that would mean unchaining her from the wall. I also wanted to get a better look at Blue's tits, compare them to Cat's.

However, even as I thought of them in the next room, heard their low moans, it occurred to me that, though undead, they had been women once, with feelings, families. And I started to feel guilty about the way I had treated them, abused them. And I changed my mind. 

As sleep took me I came to a conclusion, that in the morning I would decide to help them in some way.

My first instinct was to put them both out of their misery, but the idea made me feel even worse about myself, like I'd have raped them and then murdered them both or something.

I finally made my mind up to leave it to fate. I'd release them into the woods and leave them to meet whatever fate had in store for them.



Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse Day 03



Day Three:

I had nightmares that night. I don't remember the details, just flashy images. Blood, darkness, violence. You would be forgiven for assuming bad dreams were common place these days with the world the state that it's in, but for me nightmares were always a rarity and a bit of a shock.

I lay there in the dark, trying to calm myself and working the pins and needles sensation from my fingertips and toes, while listening to the distant groans from the zombie hotties that seemed to be mirroring the rush of the wind in the trees outside and trying to remind myself that I was safe. That the chair was still under the door handle securing the only entrance to this bedroom and that the chains I had slung criss-crossing the hall from the bathroom door handle to the living room door handle, as a makeshift early warning system, were still in place and were blissfully silent.

I must have eventually drifted off back to sleep.

*****

Because of the nightmares, I ended up sleeping in late and it was mid morning before I was up, fed and got my equipment together.

I'd lay in bed for a while, fighting the desire to fuck and distracting myself from my lust by working out a plan to transport the girls from the house without putting myself in danger. Once I had the plan sorted in my head I got up and started moving around the house gathering up the things I would need.

After giving them as big a breakfast as I could get down them, I freed and then carefully re-chained the two babes individually. And then using chains like a lead, I took the two hotties out into the woods with me.

I positioned them face to face around a tree using the handcuffs to keep them together and then tied them to the broad trunk with a length of washing line. 

However, I deliberately only tied a basic loose knot which with a little zombie wriggling and writhing, they should be able to escape from in a few minutes.

Finally, I unfastened the hand cuffs and Cat's ring gag and backed away quickly, leaving them to it and satisfied that I had helped them and paid off my self imposed debt.

*****

I set off through the woods again, heading due north. I walked for a while, stopping in the late afternoon at the stream to cool myself off, wash and replenish my water supply. 

I've found continued cleanliness goes a long way to aid with personal morale as well as with physical health. 

I felt like I should be stopping for something to eat but I didn't feel the need, I didn't have any appetite and felt energised and alert and buoyant so I pushed on through the twilight.

*****

It wasn't long after sunset, that I started to notice the scent of wood smoke somewhere off to my left and I diverted my path toward the smell.

These days wood smoke meant one of two things. One, a natural fire, which could be dangerous. Though on this occasion there wasn't much wind and there had been less than a week (as far as I could remember, the days tend to pass as a hazy blur these days) since the last heavy rain fell so natural bush fire wasn't likely.

The other option was a camp. Which could also be dangerous and simultaneously, strangely un-ignorable.

I was cautious and stealthy. I hid my backpack under a fallen tree and advanced lightweight, just weapons, medicine and water.

You never knew what you would come up against with a camp. Could be nice peaceful people willing to share food and news and company, or it could be wild scavengers who would kill you for your supplies as soon as look at you.

I could see signs of recent movement through the undergrowth, it was a trodden path, wide and obvious and there was a scent in the air of death, rotting flesh and open sores. Zombies.

The first thing I heard was shouting, deep, male, desperate, angry and afraid.

Then I heard the screams and recognised Emily's voice, loud, high pitched. It was stark in its terror and panic.

I couldn't believe it was them and that we had crossed paths again so quickly. I supposed that they must have ventured off course the previous day and they hadn't made much progress either.

I threw off the stealthy option and started running through the undergrowth, drawing one of my Katana swords as I threw myself into a sprint.

They had set up their camp in a clearing in the woods. The small two person tent was up and a small fire was burning a few feet away from it.

I couldn't see either Emily or Dean at first glance but I could see seven zombies. 

Four of them were over by a large tree to the western side of the clearing. I could hear Dean cursing and yelling from over there too, sounding like he was in a near panic. But really I was only interested in Emily.

The other three were lumbering towards the tent. That meant that was where she had to be.

Then I saw her, or at least I saw the business end of the shotgun pop out from the mouth of the tent and a huge blast of flame-shot white smoke filled the space between the tent and the first zombie. She aimed low but recoil threw the muzzle high and took off the head and shoulders of the undead attacker in a noisy cloud of red gore touched with off white bone dust and shrapnel.

"Dean! Deeean!!" She screeched as she pumped the shotgun and racked another round.

I sprinted into the fray and took off the head of the rear most zombie going after Emily. I aimed my sword cut right through the base of his skull, cutting right through the cerebellum and ending his animated state in a split second, but with the angle I wasn't able to carry through and complete the decapitation. 

I know all too well about the kind of cloying suction that human innards are capable of, especially on bladed weapons, so instead of wasting precious seconds trying to free the sword from the corpse's skull I left it embedded there and drew my second blade instead.

Emily was kneeling in the entrance of the ruined tent, looking terrified, with eyes like saucers, but she had the shotgun in her hands and was aiming it at the last zombie, so I turned my attention to Dean.

I could see that he was done for before I even got within range of using my sword. One of them was ripping mouthfuls of bloody gushing flesh from his bared calf while he screamed. The other three were on him, crouching down, pressing against him with their collective weight and all the while writhing in their desire to pull his clothing out of the way and get at the hot, wiry flesh and muscle and sinew beneath.

I saw him trying to claw at the head of one of the undead as it dipped down. His hand grabbing the zombie's scalp, which all but came away with loose hair, and rotten flesh and wriggling maggots. The exposed skull zombie didn't acknowledge the injury, just burrowed further into the mass of struggling bodies and then Dean's curses and panicked, desperate, yells degraded into a shriek of sheer unadulterated terror, the shriek almost instantly floundering into a horrible, wet, bubbly, gargling noise.

The zombie had chewed into his throat and was making his way south, while Dean choked on his own hot blood flow, dying slowly in his blind terror. Held down and eaten alive.

I used the sword hard and fast, taking the small amount of technique I remembered from the Samurai films, a few books on Japanese swords and my own experiences with the blades to cut through rotting flesh and bone. 

I fought the suction this time, dragging the blade free of the sticky flesh and the hardness of the bone beneath and cut through necks and skulls and brain matter, not caring that a half dozen of the cuts and slashes bit into Dean as well. He was dead either way.

Once the four undead and Dean were stilled, I turned back to Emily.

It finally occurred to me that I still hadn't heard that last shotgun blast that would have confirmed her safety. 

Emily had the shotgun at her shoulder and ready to fire, but her hands were shaking so much she couldn't do anything about the large ex-bodybuilder type zombie lumbering towards her and groaning with desire. 

She finally got the shotgun under control and took her shot at point blank range.

Unfortunately, she aimed too low this time, the shot cut the undead man in half just above the waist. Blasting the upper half away, a couple of feet through the air and leaving the legs upright for a moment before they toppled backwards like felled trees. 

But the top half of the zombie just kept on coming, hands clawing over the earth to drag its torso toward Emily, reaching for her, gnashing its teeth in its desire for her flesh.

I bit back the surreal moment of contemplation that myself and the zombie were alike in at least one respect and ran across the clearing to help her.

"Take its head off! Aim for the head!" I shouted desperately, whipping the sword blade back over my shoulder.

If I timed it wrong I'd get a face full of buckshot too, so I went for an over the head pinning strike. A skewering attack.

The zombie had reached close enough to get a hand onto Emily's booted ankle and she screamed and kicked out, her own panic rising like a shaken bottle of champagne.

I threw myself forward, desperately trying to get my blade into the monster and stop its murderous advance before it got its teeth into the woman I desired.

It proved unnecessary and too late as Emily got hold of herself, took a calming breath, readjusted her aim and then blew the zombie's head right across the clearing. 

There was a moment of shocked quiet. The calm after the storm.

Emily clambered out of the tent, rattling backwards away from the gore that surrounded her and looked around with wide, unblinking eyes. Her whole body was shaking, the shotgun felt from her grasp.

Dully she turned, looking for Dean not able to voice his name or acknowledge her fears.

She spotted the pile of bodies by the tree and started numbly towards it, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, she almost looked like she was sleep walking.

"Don't Em." I said gently. "There's nothing you can do. We can't help him."

"Dean..." She murmured, hesitating, half heeding my words. Seemingly unable to come to a decision.

I left her for a moment, keeping one eye on her but hurrying over to the tent to gather up her things. We had to be on our way as soon as possible. Leave this nightmare behind us.

I grabbed her backpack and the shotgun and then remembered my own things hidden under the fallen tree and ran out of the clearing to the east to pick them up. It only took me a minute there and back. I came back to her side.

She was still standing there, staring at the carnage at the base of the tree, tears streaming down her pale cheeks, her whole body quivering.

"He's gone sweetie... We can't do anything for him now. We have to go." I said as gently as I could.

"Dean." She muttered in what could have been a sob. "We have to bury him."

"We don't have time Em. The shooting could bring every Zombie in earshot down on us any minute. Or it could bring scavengers."

"Dean. I'm sorry... I... Dean." Then she broke down.

I hugged her for a moment, but kept a close eye and ear on the woods around us. We really were in danger staying put.

Then I did the only thing I could. I cut through her grief brutally. Slapping the backpack onto her shoulders and forcing the gun into her hands.

"We're going now. C'mon. We don't have time to grieve, we don't have to to stand around. We're going now. C'mon Em... C'mon. Now... Emily, shift your arse... Now!"

I physically turned her and shoved her to the north, marching her with my hands, pushing her forward ahead of me. And she took my instructions with a dumb, sleepiness, she was out of it. Zombiefied by her shock and grief.

*****

An hour later we were walking slowly but steadily northwest, back on track, in silence. Emily moved at pace but her head hung low. She had stopped crying and shivering. I hoped she wasn't shutting down. I'd seen that before. The horrors get too much for someone to bear and they cut themselves off psychologically, become an empty shell. And then they give up. And then they die. I wasn't about to let Emily go down that path, but for the life of me I didn't know how to stop it.

Fortunately, she was much more resilient that I initially gave her credit for. 

She turned to me, red eyed but dry eyed. All cried out for now.

"I knew you wouldn't really have left us, Jay. But what took you so long? Dean's died." 

It sounded like a statement of fact rather than an accusation and that was how I chose to take it.

"Actually, I had left you." I replied as gently as I could. "It's only 'cause you were heading in the wrong direction that our paths'd crossed again."

"Oh." She said sullenly.

She fell silent for a long time and I watched her head dipping again, the weight of the day on her. Pulling her down.

"I'm gonna die without him, I just know it! Without him...!" She was more or less talking to herself but I took offense at it anyway.

"What, do I not exist or something? I'm not gonna let that happen am I? Your life is more important to me than my own is, Em."

"Thank you. I... I'm just..." And the tears started to flow again.

"I know. You loved him and you'll miss him. I'm not blind to that. But I'm still here and the plan's still a good one."

She was silent again for a long time and it grew dark. The only light that filtered down was from the full moon and fortunately the umbrella of trees wasn't all that thick above our heads and gave us light enough to see by.

When she spoke again, she was different, grim but determined. Stoic.

"Okay. You're right, Jay. Thank you." She said, nodding her head and even managing a smile.

Then I bit the bullet, throwing caution to the wind and ignoring tact and appropriateness and Emily's feelings. I don't know why I said what I said at that particular time. Maybe I thought if she reverted to her grieving state again I wouldn't have the guts to go through with it at all.

"My help isn't free though, Em." I said, my heart hammering behind my ribs. "You realise that don't you? There's a fee to pay. You know that don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know why I stuck with you and Dean. And now he's gone you're relying on me. It's only fair that you give something in return. It's mutual need isn't it? You need me to help keep you alive and safe, at least, as best as I can. And I need you to give me a reason to stay."

"We're friends aren't we? Isn't that reason enough?"

"When it suits you, Em. Friends won't cut it now. It's not reason enough. You know what I want, and now Dean's gone..."

"Oh. I don't know. I don't like you in that way." 

"Like I said it's mutual need. If I'm to stay with you, you have to give me a reason to."

I could see it in her eyes. The frustration, knowing what she wanted and what she needed weren't matching up this time. It hadn't happened to her in her love life before, at least not since she was in her teens.

She was grieving and still loved the man she had just lost. But at the same time she knew she needed me. And knew what I wanted from her. Knew I had waited and fought for it in my own way. It was her choice but she didn't really have one.

She was too tired and numb to feel much of anything. She stood there in quiet contemplation for a while, looking at the monochrome woods, illuminated by moonlight and listening to the whispering of the wind through the trees.

"Jay," She said with a heavy sigh. "I know that if it wasn't for you I would be dead too. Or another Zombie, roaming these woods. Maybe I would have turned first and been the one to kill Dean. Part of me wishes for that, that I had died along with him and this nightmare would be finished. But I know in my heart that I want to live."

She wiped away tears and then looked at me. Her stoicism remained and she appeared neither offended or angry with me. 

"And I'm not blind, Jay. I realise you were the one keeping us safe. Dean gave me confidence, I relied on him, but we both relied on you, for directions, for food, for safety. That was nearly all you. Dean didn't like to admit it and I followed Dean. But underneath I knew. And of course, I know why you stayed with us all these months. You love me and you have for years. But I've never felt anything like that for you."

Part of me wanted to let her off the hook. Part of me felt like I was cheating her, coercing her into a sexual relationship. But the rest of me understood that this would be my one and only chance. We could both die tomorrow or she could meet someone and be swept off her feet all over again. She would have used me and cast me aside with little more than a 'thank you'. It was my chance to get what I wanted for a change and I wasn't about to pass it up.

"I'm not stupid Emily, I'm not expecting you to love me, you've only just lost your partner of what is it, seven years? But I do expect you to treat me like a boyfriend from now on. That's the deal. We're together now. Like a couple."

Emily didn't reply. She just hung her head, her cheeks flushing crimson, beneath the salt-tracks of her tears.

I took it as a 'yes' and led her on into the night.

*****

The woods gave way to a field after another hour of night-time walking. And beyond the field's hedgerow boundary was a small farmhouse. We headed for it.

There were a few zombies. Three outside eating a pig that had somehow managed to survive by eating the contents of the overgrown front garden. I had Emily climb a tree while I destroyed the undead and then checked out the house.

I found two undead inside, who I'm assuming had been the farmer and his wife. One was standing still in the middle of the kitchen, while the other was dormant, lying on the floor in the living room. I got them to follow me out of the front door and then killed them both with my sword, before going back inside and going room to room and making sure everything else was clear.

Once I knew we'd be safe for the night I collected Emily and brought her inside.

I found an attic room with a spare bed, a sofa and an old, still useable, open fire and decided that would be safest.

There was a verandah across the front of the house and its tiled roof provided a quick and relatively safe emergency escape route from the single, small, attic window.

The first thing I did was to grab some thick sticky tape and stuff a couple of pillows into the small window frame then tape a piece of cardboard over the window, then shoved an old wardrobe over it too, to try and block any light from escaping to the outside. Smoke from the fire might not be noticeable against the darkness of the night sky but any light from inside a house could be seen from miles away.

Next, I found some wood in the back garden and lit the fire using old newspapers and my fire-steel. And then, once the fire was going properly, used some tin foil to heat up a couple of tins of sausages and beans that were in the kitchen. 

We ate and drank water. And then I double checked that all the doors and windows were locked and secure, placed chairs under the front- and back-door handles and under the door handle of the attic room I had chosen for us as added security. 

I didn't want to push things too quickly for Emily, even though I was desperately horny for her and this was just about the first time we had been alone together and certainly the first time Dean hadn't been in the picture. However, she surprised me.

She was waiting for me when I came back into the secured attic room and using the light from the roaring fire, she looked me deliberately up and down, her eyes travelling over my body, then she held my gaze with her lush blue/green eyes.

"C'mon over here." She said, her voice soft but touched with a hint of nerves or maybe reluctance.

She was down to trousers and a rugby shirt, the trousers I was familiar with, they were chino style and loose at her legs but the sheer black fabric hugged her hips and made her arse look great from the rear.




Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse Day 03



The shirt was a little less sexy, it hugged her breasts nicely, showing off their meagre size to an eye catching effect but it didn't manage to conceal the moderate bulging of her stomach. Which was much smaller that it ever had been, for as long as I had known her, but still it was visible in the rugby shirt.

I moved in close to her, hungry for her and yet hesitant, I still felt a little bad about the way this situation had come to pass.

But the way she looked into my eyes, the little smile that played across her lips and the way her tongue slipped out from between them to wet her own, pushed the hesitancy right down into the pit of my stomach.

"Give us a kiss then." She whispered.

She hooked a soft hand around the back of my neck and pulled me to her. That was all the encouragement I required.

She pressed herself against me and my hands automatically encircled her waist but the kiss began slowly. She touched my lips with hers in a gentle, chastened touch, it was pillow soft and warm and tasted sweet. She planted extra similar kisses on the tip of my nose, my cheeks, my chin.

Then we held each other's eyes for a moment, the fire light dancing in her deep blue/green eyes, holding my attention and making my heart flutter and my cock burgeon with blood flow.

Then she kissed me on the lips again and I pressed back, her mouth opened and her sweet, dainty tongue slid into my mouth. At that moment the passion over-rode the gentle intimacy and the kiss turned hot and hungry and fraught with sexual desire.

I groaned into her open mouth, enjoying the feel of her in my arms. I'd dreamed of this, waited for it, wished for it for years and now it was really happening.

I tasted her quick, expressive tongue with my own, enjoyed the tingling in my scrotum and the ache in my cock as it lengthened and hardened in my trousers. I focused my attention to the way her small, high breasts were pressing against my lower chest, I could almost feel her nipples hardening against my flesh.

I wrapped my arms around her tightly, pulling her against me in my building desire for her, one arm around the middle of her back the other sliding lower, following the inner curve of the small of her back and still descending towards her plump, perky bottom.

She pulled away from the kiss, panting, her eyes a little wide and gleaming in the fire light, her slick lips parted slightly. 

"Mmm, you taste good, you taste kind of sweet." She murmured, a touch of wanton in her expression. "I hope you're the same all over."

She held my gaze with hers again and I wondered if she was trying to maybe swap my face for Dean's, to make it easier on her or if she was trying to will herself to want me. Or reminding herself why she was doing what she was doing. And why she knew she had to go much further with me before the night was over.

Then she slid one hand down between us, reaching for my belt.

"Wait...What're you...?" I said, suddenly uncertain again.

"You brought me here to fuck me didn't you? We can't fuck with our clothes on."

I groaned with desire for her and started to yank up the hem of her shirt while she hurriedly unbuckled the leather belt and then the buttons of my heavy duty cargo pants. 

By the time my hands were against the soft, smooth flesh of her abdomen and feeling upward for her 'b' cup breasts, she had both hands down the front of my trousers and under the waist-band of my boxer shorts. 

I found the firm, perky orbs covered in a cotton sports bra but my own sensual excitement was eclipsed by the feel of her small, cool hands encircling the hot, sweat coated flesh of my turgid cock. One hand gripped the shaft around the fat root while the other dipped lower to take up my heavy, tangerine sized balls in her other palm.

She used her wrists and forearms to shove my trousers and boxers down to mid thighs and then got herself a proper handful and eyeful of my erection and testicles.

"Mmm, Jay, you're big! Nice and thick. I like it." She panted.

I wasn't sure if she was playing a part or being sincere and I didn't for a second care. I just wanted this to continue.

"And you're so fucking sexy, Em!" Was all I could groan by way of reply.

She gave a little, blushing, demure smile and turned her attention back to the handful of meat she was playing with. She palmed my balls, stroking the hot, smooth flesh of my scrotum between the pads of her fingers and thumb. While with her other hand she started up an amazing hand job, jerking my foreskin up and down my shaft from the base. Instinctively, just the way I liked it done. My erection seemed to solidify under her caressing like quick drying concrete. It ached, a wonderful, warm, tingling, ache that almost had me swooning with desire and lust.

"You won't believe how long I've wanted this." I murmured foolishly.

"I know how long. I hope I live up to your fantasy."

"Well you're going about that the right way, honey. Ohh, fuck that feels good!" I moaned.

I stroked my fingers and palms over her handful breasts through the sheer fabric of her bra, before hooking the bottom of the bra up over her breasts and letting it snap back on her upper chest. The soft, warm, naked orbs with their coal hot and granite hard nipples were immediately cupped and squeezed in my wanton lust driven hands.

I loved the feel of her tits in my hands, a secret desire that I'd dreamed of for years now a succulent reality. They were softer and warmer than I'd dared hope and the hard heat from her thick, engorged, spongy nipples was inspiring to my lusts. 

I bent my head to them and took one stiff nipple between my lips, having to use my other hand to hold the bunched up shirt above the meagre mounds of her breasts.

I enjoyed the slightly sweaty and musky smell and taste of her and the firm though pliant feel of her engorged nipple between my lips and then my teeth, as I started to nibble and chew at her nipples with a lust-hunger that was building minute by minute.

Emily was panting by then, either put-on or genuine I neither knew nor cared. While her hands were doing marvellous things to my erection and my testicles, gripping my hardness tightly at the base and pumping the shaft with a vigour that had my entire groin tingling and basking in waves of erotic pleasure. Her other hand teased and caressed my scrotum with the perfect amount of gentle sensation.

I pulled back from her tits for a moment to voice my appreciation with a deep guttural groan and then kissed her again while my hands gathered her shirt and bra and started to pull them from her body. Of course, we had to stop the horny tongue-fucking kiss and the hand-job momentarily to strip her of her shirt and bra but it was accomplished in hurried seconds and then we were back at it again. 

I took a breast in one hand, thumbing the stiffened nipple while our lips and tongues mashed and gave battle, darting to and fro from one mouth to the other. My other hand slid down her back and grabbed at her meaty but pert arse, squeezing it none too gently, grabbing each cheek and then following the heart shaped curves into the crux and rubbing up and down her ass cleavage.

The waist band of her black chinos was loose enough to shove my hand down inside and I felt my way beneath the thin cotton of her knickers and onto smooth, taut, warm arse flesh. 

I pulled away from the tongue heavy kiss and she started to kiss and lick down my cheek and my throat, moaning and panting all the while. I took the opportunity to look down at her topless figure for a few seconds bathed in dancing firelight. Of course I'd seen her naked before but not this close and not when she was working on my cock with both hands and licking at my sweat coated flesh.

"Ohh, you're sweating a lot Jay, is that 'cause of me? It's so sweet. Mmm, that's tasty." She moaned breathily. 

I said nothing, instead stroking her naked buttocks for a few seconds before I slid my cupping hand between them, pushing my fingers into her ass cleavage and finding the hot puckered star of her anal mouth.

Her body tightened as my fingertip rubbed her anus and I groaned into a hot, wet mouthful of nipple and areola in reply.

"Oh yeah, that's what I want, right there." I grunted and then put some pressure against the pad of my questing finger and pushed the digit into her arse as far as the second knuckle. 

"Ohhh fuck!" Emily moaned.

Her body tensed again, her hands, now both of them tightly grasping and wanking my erection, gripped tighter still fisting me with a suddenly erratic rhythm.

I responded by finger fucking her arse hole, with a slow and deepening pace.

My fingertips were tingling again, like pins and needles but I didn't care, it kind of made the feel of her hot little anus gripping my fingers feel even better somehow.

"Time to get you naked I think." I decided, after a few more moments of horny play, though I really didn't want to remove my finger from up her hot ass.

"Okay. You too though." She panted excitedly. "I wanna see the rest of you."

We separated and undressed in front of the fire. I don't think I've ever undressed as quickly before. I was yanking and peeling and kicking while my full on ballistic missile of a cock was jutting proudly and swinging around in front of me and not for a second did it lessen in its hardness.

"Ha ha! The sweat's dripping off you, Jay. You know I've never tasted nicer sweat than yours before. Sounds disgusting but I just wanna lick it all off you!" She gushed.

I thought it was a bit weird myself, sweat's salty isn't it? Mine's no different than anyone else's. 

I watched Emily's tits bouncing ad quivering pertly high on her chest as she sexily hip-danced her tight trousers over her broad hips, down her plump, pale thighs and then hopped around on one foot and then the other to tug off her trousers, knickers and boots. 

It was quite a sight, jiggling flesh and amusing movements erotic and funny at the same time.

All the while I noticed her tattoos dancing in the firelight, the flame-orange illumination playing with the ink colours in her naked skin.

The pills and lubricant popped into my head, I'd slipped them into my trouser pockets that morning and now I wanted them. So while Emily was struggling with her boots I surreptitiously rummaged around, tossed the tube of KY jelly and a pack of the condoms over onto the little table by the bed and then gulped down two of the Viagra tablets as quickly as I could.

The next moment we we together again, lips and hands on each other's bodies. Hot, sweaty flesh pressing against cooler and softer flesh. It all took less than thirty seconds. Not that I was counting. 

Emily hungrily kissed and licked a rapid path down my eager body from throat to chest to stomach, then going down onto her knees in front of me and then licking and kissing across my hip bone and over to my cock. 

"Oh, this is definitely thicker and harder than Dean's." She grunted, licking her lips. "Tastes great too, nice and sweet."

Again I wondered if it was an act for my benefit or if she was as into it as she appeared to be. And again, I decided I didn't care. As long as she give it up for me. As long as I got what I have wanted and dreamed of for all these years, what did it matter?

So, with a moan of anticipation and a definite smacking of her lips, she took my cock into her mouth.

And she took it deep.

She pushed her mouth along the length of my thick cock, an inch forward and then two inches back, spreading her lips and keeping her teeth out of the way, while she used her tongue to liberally spread her saliva over and all round my shaft, lubricating it and allowing the tight 'o' of her lips to slide smoothly and not grip my hot, hard flesh.

Then, once the crown met the entrance to her throat, she immediately adjusted her jaw and the angle of her head and jerked herself forward, so that the bloated, purple crown popped right into her clenching oesophagus.

She gagged a little but all her experience enabled her to take the thickness and the discomfort and she swirled at the deep throated cock with her lithe and agile tongue.

I groaned loudly at the sensation of her skill and shivered as I felt the contact of her talented tongue and hot sprays of her saliva coating my cock flesh. She started to deep throat my cock with fervour, plunging my swollen, pleasurably aching crown in and out of her throat as, all the while, her sexy tongue flicked and stroked and basted my engorged throbbing shaft with her hot drool.

"Oh, fuck yeah. That's amazing Em. Fucking suck my dick!" I groaned gutturally in my resounding lust.

She sucked and tasted and deep throated it with an insatiable hunger, as though she was gorging herself on my flesh, trying to swallow it whole. And as a tribute to her experience I'm proud to say I never once felt the sharp scrape of her teeth against my foreskin.

"Oh Jesus, You're so fucking good. Oh fuck yeah, do it babe, do it to me. You're so good at it!"

I moaned and panted, quivers of pleasure racing though my thighs and my quivering abdominals. My hands went to the back of her head but there was no need at all to guide her, or push her to go deeper, or press her to go faster, she was doing everything as well as I could have wished for and, all too soon, I felt my big, heavy balls beginning to boil over.

And that was when she pulled my erection all the way out of her mouth, keeping a tight grip on the root with one hand and massaging my balls with the other, while she gulped in air, panting and coughing a little. Moaning to herself. 

Then she gazed up at me, holding my lust drowned hazel eyes with her wide and glistening blue-greens.

"Oh, Jay. It's so much thicker and harder than Dean's ever was, and it tastes so sweet! It's like sucking on a lolly or something."

She spent a moment, as if proving her statement, by taking long, full length licks of my shaft from root to crown, as though licking a candy cane or something. She dipped her tongue into the hole at the tip of my crown, worming her agile tongue into the little mouth and lapping up my free flowing pre-cum, while she tossed me off with one hand.

"Mmmm, so tasty..." She muttered to herself. Then she caught my eye again and I could see the desire there, the wanton lust.

"I want you to fuck my face, Jay. Ram it down my throat, deep as you can. Don't worry about it hurting, I can take it. Just grab my head and face fuck me. Harder the better..."

I just stared down at her, aghast and hesitant. I didn't want to hurt her, I was lust drunk and yeah I had a dominant streak and about five or six years of sexual frustration to unleash on her but still I didn't want to hurt her. I wasn't after a revenge fuck. Still, she held my wide eyes gaze and nodded her head with encouragement.

"It's fine honestly. I can take it, I'm used to it after years of doing it with Dean. C'mon, fuck my face." 

I fucked her face. I rammed my meat down her throat, crushed her lips and nose with my groin, slammed my testicles into her chin like a pair of wrecking balls. 

And after only a few frantic, aggressive and noisy minutes, I blasted what felt like a whole gallon of hot, watery spunk right down her throat, into her mouth, down her throat, into her mouth and then I pulled all the way out and squirted another massive ball-full. 

The raw, steaming hot fluid belched over her face and hair, splattering her cheeks, clogging up her nostrils and squeezed shut eyelids, squirting right over the top of her head to splatter a white arterial spray down her back and across the tops of her buttocks.

She tried to swallow the mouthfuls I had geysered over her tongue but she choked on it and retched. Most of it was expelled and sprayed down her chin and throat and splattered her heaving young breasts.

"Oh fuck me!" She gulped hoarsely, looking down over herself and laughing with amused shock.

"You must have been really backed up, Jay. That was fucking impressive!" She laughed, trying to flick the worst of it from her skin. 

There was a old, thin, cotton blanket over the back of the old sofa and I grabbed it and helped her wipe herself down.

And, all the while, we were both acutely aware that my slick, engorged cock was still straining at full, prominent, stretch. 

I was just as surprised as Emily. Those pills couldn't have taken effect already surely?

"Jesus!" She said with a laugh. "You're obviously not satisfied yet!"

Her voice still had an undeniable hoarse quality and she was still panting and coughing here and there.

"Not by a long way." I replied in all seriousness, shaking my head. 

With an extra wide eyed glance at the state of my erection and a little smirk, she sashayed around and then launched herself over to the bed beneath the barricaded window.

I went to follow her but was stopped in my tracks by the erotic view she gave me, up on the bed on her hands and knees, flashing her mouth watering, heart shaped arse at me and gazing back at me over her shoulder and looking downright sultry.

"Fuck me in my arse, Jay." She groaned suddenly. "Make me feel it."

I was astonished but happy enough with the offer. I was on the verge of telling Emily about my thought of Dean's use of bullshit to convince her to take it up the arse whenever he had wanted to fuck her but I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and go with it.

"I thought you'd be a bit more reluctant to be honest, Em." I said.

I buried my face between her sexy ass cheeks and grabbed a tight, two handed grasp of both naked buttocks in my eager hands.

"Fuck it! Hurry up Jay. Slam it up me then ask me who's arse it is!" She panted.

She let out a long moan as my tongue lapped at the delicate lips of her pussy. I felt a shiver pass through her loins and followed it with my tongue.

"Ask you who's arse it is?" I repeated, a bit bemused, between long licks at her protruding clitoris and pussy lips.

"Tell me it's your arse from now on! Then fuck me, hard!" She groaned, her urgent words all aquiver with the effects of my hands and lips and tongue.

I slicked my tongue north up her ass cleavage, spreading as much saliva as I could muster across my snailing tongue. Then I flicked the tip of my tongue over the puckered star of her anus. And then prodded it inward, trying to give her a proper prime rimming.

I wasn't entirely successful with my tongue but I enjoyed it none the less, memories of past fantasies of her arse and all the things I imagined myself doing to it danced through my mind, adding their own delightful flavours to my sexual feast.

I shifted my grip from her buttocks to her arse hole and the split peach of her pussy and shoved two fingers up each hole.

Emily arched up and let out a loud, long, moan as she was penetrated.

"Not my pussy, I need it in my arse!" She managed to pant.

I reluctantly withdrew my fingers from her pussy, silently complaining, as it had felt so warm and magical. But I couldn't complain that much as her arse had always been the main source of my sexual desire when it came to Emily O'Brian. 

I shoved my two index fingers, one from each hand up her ass and pistoned them alternately, one in, one out, until she was quivering and hissing and moaning, her body writhing and rocking under my direct attentions.

"You once gave this to Dean to show you loved him. But now it's mine, Em! You got it?! Mine! And I'll fuck your arse whenever I feel like it. And you'll bend over and take it right?!" I growled at her.

"Yeah Jay! I'll take it up the arse from you, and only you!" She moaned, her thighs rubbing together a little shudder visibly passing across her shoulders. 

I pulled my hands free of her ass and snatched up a condom and some lube from the bedside table.

I rolled the condom down my shaft, it was a bit of a tight fit but I was so rock hard that I managed it quickly enough. Then I squeezed a bit of the KY onto the tip of my cock and quickly spread it around my latex hooded crown, before positioning myself up against her lush backside and shoving my cock firmly against her anal mouth.




Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse Day 03



"Ohhhhh Jay!" She groaned, seemingly desperate for it, her head dropping and her breath catching in her throat.

I still wondered if it was an act. Her boyfriend had died only hours earlier. Was this some form of grief? Or maybe denial? Or maybe she just needed to have her mind taken off it? I decided act or not, it really didn't matter. At last, at long last she was giving me what I had always wanted.

I pushed and pushed hard and immediately I saw her trying to relax her arse and let me up her. She was experienced in sodomy of course, but apparently my erect cock was bigger than Dean's. Bigger than she was used to. 

Still, I growled and shoved and after a few straining tense seconds, her anal mouth gave in and my cock head popped into her anus. At once I grabbed her plump, smack-able ass cheeks and drove the rest of my shaft in after the bloated crown.

"AHHHHhhh!" She wailed as she was made to accept my whole fat girth up her ass in one hard push. 

"Who's arse hole is it?!" I snapped at her.

I dug my fingers into her sexy bottom and pulled my cock back out of her anus until only the crown was gripped by her sphincter ring.

"Fuck!!" She yelped as I shoved it back up her again. "It's, ahhh... It's yours, Jay!"

"Tell me to fuck it, Em! Tell me to fuck your arse hole."

"Ohhh... Fuck it, Jay! Ahhh! Fuck my arse!"

She finished her plea with a long and loud quavering moan that might have missed a few of the zombies in the world beyond the window, but only if they were a good mile away.

I grunted my acute, throbbing pleasure and started to sodomise the girl of my lusty dreams for all I was worth, determined to make the most of it and enjoy it as much as I could. After all, we could both be dead tomorrow.

We kind of slumped into a horny silence after that, each focusing on our part and our mutual pleasure. The only noises we made were the moans and pants and grunts that burst from us both, apace with my hard, deep anal fucking and the in-time creaking groan of the old bedsprings under us.

*****

I don't know how long I lasted, though the roaring fire had crumbled to a cindery orange glow before I climaxed.

I was sweating buckets, it was dripping off my body, from everywhere, even making Emily's luscious flesh slippery and I intermittently got those pins and needles in my fingers and toes as well, every now and then but nothing was coming between me and my lust.

My cock was aching with the tension that Emily's rectum instilled in it, as it gripped me like a hot fist while I thrust in and out as hard and fast and deep as I could.

And then Emily came. 

"Ooohhh Ooohhh Jay! Yes! Ohh Yes I'm... I'm gonna... Ohhhh! AHHH!! AHHH!! AHHHH!!"

It was vocal and intense, and she writhed and twitched underneath me all the while. 

It was like the best moment I'd ever experienced. I'd made the girl of my wet dreams orgasm by fucking her in the arse. Nothing else came close. At least until my own orgasm broke.

I didn't do much, just jerked and hammered my throbbing, bursting cock in her quivering, tight rectum as fast and hard as I could, loosing all rhythm, my thrusts going erratic until I felt it build and then explode like a volcanic eruption. I buried my cock up her backside and let fly, feeling the spurting sensations from the core of my scrotum right along the length of my shaft and out of the bloated fat crown as a series of intense, rupturing, waves of motion and pleasure. 

And as I emptied my balls up her arse, I felt like my energy was being drained along with it, right though my pumping cock. I don't know how much fluid I dumped into her, but it felt just as powerful and intense and was probably as plentiful as my previous climax had been.

Groaning and bathing in the after-cum glow, I pulled out of her and immediately rolled over and lay out flat beside her on the bed, Emily just sort of collapsed face down beside me, panting and moaning softly. Our bodies gleaming slickly in the firelight. 

I caught a glimpse of my spunk dribbling out of her slowly tightening up anal mouth and tricking down her slightly parted inner thighs.

*****

Another nightmare struck me. Again, I didn't remember much about it. Violence, brutality, passion, desire, hunger. All experienced as oblique, enigmatic feelings, alongside harsh and garish imagery. 

However, there was a pervading feeling that remained for a while after the flashy gore-infested imagery faded from memory, which was a kind of numbed sense, the way you'd expect a caveman to be. Devoid of complexities like morality, empathy, conscience. He wants what he wants and what he wants are material things, sensual things, meat, killing, sex. Philosophy and psychology don't come into his mind at all. They are meaningless to him. 

That kind of feeling stayed with me from the dream for a long while afterwards.

*****

I awoke suddenly in the bed, in the dark, flat on my back. After images and sensations from the nightmare moving around in my fogged mind like spooks or phantasms.

The fire had all but gone out. There was the faintest of orange glows which allowed me to see a few shapes in the room.

It was chilly. The sweat coating us both and the mattress under us, had cooled and left us shivering. Maybe that was what had woken me up.

I could feel and barely see Emily's head on my chest, and one arm laid across my stomach. She was quivering slightly and I could hear sniffling noises. And I realised she was crying softly. I wondered, just for a moment, what it was that was upsetting her but then I was acutely aware of another sensation. It was a firm, buzzing eroticism that suffused my lower torso, though centred at my groin.

I finger walked one hand over to my cock and found it to be hard and hot, at full mast, stonkingly erect, as big and hard as it ever had been.

I also realised the condom was still in place. I pulled it off and dropped it on the floor at the side of the bed. It has torn at the tip, possibly from the pressure of all the spunk I had blasted through it earlier.

I gave my cock a surreptitious little stroke with one hand while with the other I started to stroke Emily's bobbed hair, trying to soothe her.

The soothing didn't last long however, she rolled her head a touch and laid a few little appreciative kisses onto my chest, kissing the wiry patch of hair between my lean pectorals.

That reciprocation and the erotic buzz in my loins had me shifting the hand on her head from a gentle stroke to a more urgent pushing. 

She wordlessly allowed herself to be pushed, head first, down the length of my body until her mouth found my stupendous erection and then she obediently parted her lips and took the cock all the way in, forcing it into her throat of her own volition.

She twisted herself around until she was kneeling over me with her hands on either side of my hips and fucked her face up and down my thick, hard, shaft until I came.

She sucked me off all the way to my third orgasm in quick order and swallowed my load in a half dozen noisy gulps, before, panting breathlessly, she rolled back on the bed and pressed herself up against me, curling up against my side and throwing and arm and a leg across me.

Within moments were both fast asleep again.



Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse Day 04



Day Four:

It was something like late morning when we finally awoke, cold and shivering, naked on the mattress with only our mutual body heat to keep us warm. Luckily it was still summer.

I lit the fire and made tea.

The fire was a risk, the smoke from the chimney being visible to scavengers against the sky. However, warming us up was a priority. Tea was the easiest hot drink these days, foil wrapped tea bags were light weight and still easy to find in most households. And when you were cold and thirsty a lack of milk and sugar didn't matter at all. Hot, strong and black.

Coffee was possible but a glass jar or metal can were heavier and bulkier.

I heated up some tinned soup which Emily ate straight from a sauce pan I found downstairs. Some dried fruit in the pantry added a little extra sweetness after the soup. I wasn't hungry and the tea was enough for me.

As the soup was heating through, Emily nipped to the bathroom with some stream water to bathe and dress, so in the meantime I pulled the covers from the window and looked out. 

That was when I estimated the time of day and that was also when I saw how heavily the rain was coming down. You could hear it on the roof of course, kind of calming and exhilarating at the same time, I always liked the sound of rain.

But I didn't particularly enjoying spending ten hours walking in it, which was the prospect for the day. However, we were only about a day or so from the coast by my map reading and guesswork.

Emily was adamant, by the time she came back upstairs and stared out of the window while she sipped her soup, she did not want to go anywhere while this rain was coming down as it was.

I tried to convince her that we were so close to our destination and that one last push and we'd be home free and the longer we stayed in one spot the more danger we were putting ourselves in. Especially if we kept the fire going, as we seemed to be doing.

She argued that the smoke would be lost against the gray skies and that scavengers would most likely be sheltering indoors too. Which, I had to admit, was probably true. 

And then she downright manipulated me. Ensuring that she got her way.

"Let's hold up here for a few hours, at least until the rain stops. I'm sure we can think of something to do to pass the time." She said with a little sultry flush to her cheeks and the tiniest of alluring smiles.

And she illustrated her intention by playfully running her palms down the sides of the gray cotton, low-cut, sleeveless top she was wearing. It hugged and lifted her small breasts and was an empire line design, the ruched and flared hem cascading down from under her bust.

She wore tight jeans that hugged and lifted her arse, making it look succulent and mouth-wateringly sexy. 

My cock went up and my desire to go outside diminished simultaneously.



"Oh God you taste so good." Emily panted as we kissed.

She was licking at the sweat that trickled down my face, throat and then my chest and abdomen, between mutually hungry French kisses.

"I don't know what it is! Your tongue, your sweat, even your breath is sweet like honey. I can't get enough!" She moaned hotly.

She was slaking me with her tongue all over my mouth and face.

I was happy enough, even though it was a bit weird of her. I had my hands down the inside of her unzipped jeans, clutching and squeezing her firm, pliant arse cheeks while I chased her tongue with my lips, catching and sucking on it, before I let her go back to chasing down more rivulets of my sweat. I had already gulped down two Viagra and my cock was like a solid iron bar in my combat pants.

"You really like my arse don't you!?" She laughed breathily.

"Sexually, it's your best feature." I replied honestly. Squeezing and fondling her buttocks.

"Dean always liked my arse." She muttered. 

I spotted the momentary misty, far away look in her eyes and her excitement waned, for a moment as grief and guilt reared their ugly heads. But then she visibly shook her head, freeing herself from the funk and the fire returned to her eyes. 

Satisfied, I kissed a quick half-hearted path down to her tits and then spent a few moments sucking on her nipples and laying my tongue all over the perky orbs of her not quite handful tits.

She panted and stroked my hair, enjoying my attentions on her tits and ass and I felt the little quivers running through her body. Those annoying tingles started up against in my fingers and toes, well actually they were crawling right through the palms on my hands and the balls of my feet now. I didn't let it distract me though and went to town with my lips, tongue and teeth on her nipples and areolae.

She lowered herself a little and I felt her hand, at long last, press against my bulging cock. She let out a little moaning breath. 

"You're so fucking big, Jay." She moaned, hungry for me which made me ten times more horny for her, "I want it up my arse again."

"Take it in your mouth first." I said, then had another idea. "D'you wanna sixty-nine for a bit?"

"Okay, but not in here..." She pouted, looking around the attic room with a heavy, exasperated look.

"...I'm bored being cooped up in here. Let's go downstairs. It's safe enough. You checked all the rooms for monsters didn't you."

"Okay." I agreed without much thought, following the insistence of my erection.



We found ourselves in the slightly musty smelling but light and roomy sitting room and at once occupied the large and deep window seat. I wondered about the centrally positioned sofa, it faced the chimney breast mounted television and was side on to the window, which was large and reached almost to the floor, but under it was the deep and well padded window seat and Emily wanted the light on us while we fucked so we went straight for the window. It looked out onto the front garden and beyond that a field to the left and woods to the right.

Of course, I wasn't interested in the room or the view. And neither, as it happens, was Emily. All we were interested in was each other's bodies.

We didn't waste any time in getting down to it on the deep and comfortable window seat.

I quickly settled down on the thickly padded cushions and pulled Emily up on top of me, head to toe with her thighs spread on either side of my chest and my fully fledged erection jutting straight up at her face.

We got straight to the mutual oral action, Emily going down on my shaft, all the way down, until I felt her tongue stabbing out to flick at my pubic hair while she worked my swollen crown deep in her throat. I, meanwhile, grabbed her arse cheeks in a tight two handed grip and spread them apart and then pulled her dripping pussy down onto my face. 

I started with long, slow licks across and up and down her splayed lips, before burying my tongue between them and lapping at her vaginal orifice. I listened out for the rise in her appreciative moans and once she was really starting to pant and her juices were flowing properly, I pressed my lips over her clitoris and started sucking.

Her volume and mewling noises started to grow immediately and between sucks I started to ply the rough surface of my tongue to her engorged clit. And she started to go wild, all but forgetting about my erection in her thunderous sexual pleasure. I switched between the surface of my tongue, the firm tip of the organ and my suctioning lips over her clit and her wildness and noisiness only intensified.

Without stalling my oral attack, I slid two fingers into her vagina and started to finger her as well, thrusting very fast and deep and working my tongue faster and faster until fingers and tongue were practically synchronised. 

She came with a loud squeal, rocking and gyrating against me, moaning and calling my name between the Ohhh's and the Yesss's.

I didn't let up for a second and her orgasm peaked and then leaped straight up into another even bigger one and this time she blasted juices over my face and fingers.

I was going to carry on and see if I could get her to cum a third time but my tongue was numb, my fingers were cramping and between the panting and breathy moans, she was pleading with me to stop. So I gave in. Against my better judgment I have to say.

I lay there underneath her, sucking the juice from my tingling fingers and enjoying the consistent pleasurable throbbing that emanated from my still surging erection. And then it was suddenly engulfed once again in the hot, damp, lush, cavern of Emily's mouth and throat. 

She blew me like no one had ever done it before and I lay there in a glorious golden stupor. Floating in my erotic bliss and enjoying the throbbing heat and succulent constriction of the bloated crown of my shaft popping in and out of her throat over and over again. The hot wetness of her saliva coating and tricking down my shaft to pool in my matted pubic hair.

My fingers were gently stroking the lips of her pussy and the moist heat of the little mouth between them and I knew then and there where I wanted to be.

"Get up Em, it's time to fuck." I grunted with a new urgency. 

I wanted to be inside her, before the desire to blast my load down her throat became too great.

I shuffled back off the window seat onto my haunches on the floor while Emily quickly rolled onto her back and spread her legs for me, grabbing the backs of her knees and pulling her legs up and back so her hips lifted up, elevating her ass and expectantly exposing her anus for me.

"Hurry..." She moaned, panting, practically begging for it.

But I was after some pussy action for a change and I ignored the offering of her ass hole.

I I leaned in, pressing myself between her thighs, grabbed my erection and quickly thrust it into her juiced up pussy, immediately starting a rapid, deep thrusting pace.

"Ohhhhh! Fuck!! ...No, Wait... Jay...! Oh God that feels good!!" She groaned loudly, arching her back and tossing her head as my cock speared her.

"...Jay, wait. Not there. Stop a minute. Stop." She moaned.

I halted my thrusts, leaving my swollen shaft embedded all the way inside her succulent, snug, tropical heat. I looked at her confused and impatient.

"Not my pussy, Jay. It feels too nice, do my arse again. Hurt me Jay!"

I wasn't actually all that bothered. I was getting what I wanted and if she wanted it up her backdoor exclusively, who was I to argue? But all the same I asked the question.

"How come?"

She gave a long sigh and looked suddenly annoyed. She looked around, as if trying to make up her mind then lowered her eyes, as if she couldn't bare to look at me. She looked flustered and embarrassed. 

"If you must know, I feel like I'm betraying my boyfriend and stomping on his memory, just so I can keep living in this shitty, good for nothing world. And I feel like I deserve to be punished, okay!? So... Just get on with it!" She wailed with exasperation.

I couldn't think of anything to say in response. As I said, I was getting exactly what I wanted and there was nothing I could do or say to make Emily feel better. Except do as she asked and stick my dick up her arse, which I did.

A little reluctantly, I withdrew from her tight, soaking pussy and pressed my well lubricated crown against her anal mouth.

She relaxed her ass in preparation for taking my thick cock, as I gripped the solid shaft just behind the crown and started to inch it into her, with slow but insistent and unrelenting pressure.

Emily winced and moaned and panted as my erect cock attempted to press open her anal mouth. And then with a heavy squelching sound, a deep exultant groan from me and a desperate squeal from Emily, my erection pushed into her anus. 

I kept up the pressure and shoved the whole length into her arse, grinning at her responsive arched body and quivering tenseness on her pretty face. She actually bit at her bottom lip. The look on her face was just exquisite. 

She pushed her bottom toward me and lifted her legs higher, stretching to grab her ankles while I gripped her around the waist and laid into her ass with my stone hard, fat, cock.

"Oh fuck! Yes Jay! That's it, fuck me hard! Hurt me!" She gasped in a near squeal.

It didn't last long. Her arse hole gripped my cock like a fist and I pounded it like it was my last fuck. 

The sheer, ribald, sexuality etched on her lusty, flushed, creased up sex-face added another element of pleasure for me. And that combined with the fast, sensual thrusting and the seasoned taboo of years of fantasising about Emily's O'Brien's anus squeezing and baking my cock shaft, brought about a quick and glutinous orgasm. 

Just like last night, I dumped the contents of my balls straight up her arse, white-washing her bowels in what I could only describe as a fire extinguisher going off inside her, my cock straining rhythmically, pumping and spurting up her backdoor over and over again.

Emily jolted against me, shoving herself back against the window seat as I blasted my searing spunk inside her ass, which incidentally pushed her hips harder against mine. Her mouth gaped in a silent scream and her eyes squeezed shut as she felt my hot climax uncoiling into her hot bowels.

"Oh fuck, that hurt!" She laughed to herself afterwards, confusing me a bit. "I came too, but it was a bit quick Jay. I could have gone for another ten or twenty minutes, Jay."

"Gimme a chance babe, that was my first fuck of the day." I protested, pretending to have taken offence. "It was never gonna last long, was it. Give me a few minutes and we'll go again and this time I'll fuck your arse for a solid hour, how's that?!"

"Mmmm..." She purred. "...Sounds good."



It was actually more than a few minutes before the second promised buggering got underway. I used a cotton doily from the back of a nearby armchair to wipe my cock down and then passed it to Emily so she could soak up the spunk trickling from her ass, I leaned back, naked, on the thickly carpeted floor with my back against an arm chair. 

Emily leaned back and stretched lithely, it was enough to get my cock from resting to semi hard. But she suddenly wanted to chat.

"I've been thinking Jay." She began. "I've been having second thoughts about the plan, with Nan's farm on Heddaby."

"Okay... How come?"

"Well, to be honest, it was always just for me and Dean. The island, the farm. Peace and safety from zombies. I always pictured it being just the two of us, me and Dean. I never told him, you know how he felt about me having a kid with all the added dangers, but I even planned on us raising a family together on the Island..."

I could see where this was going. The plan had been Emily's from the start and it had been a good, sensible one. Dean had been talked into it once I sided with Emily, once I saw the logic and the potential for a good, long and safe life.

Off the coast of Croth, west of Glasgow, there is a small island called Heddaby. There's not much there, just a horseshoe of granite hillside that protects the rolling fields from the Atlantic. You could cross the island's length in maybe four hours on foot. The fields are lush grasses and Emily's seventy year old Nan lives there and has a sheep farm, She's the only occupant. And the farm is more like an independent project, like the 'Good Life'. Everything is grown and recycled, sheep dung used as fuel etc. Everything required to live a healthy, though not necessarily comfortable, life is readily available on that island. There's even a small forest and a fresh water brook that feeds a well on the farm's grounds. 

And then Emily dropped the bomb shell. 

"...I never saw you there with us Jay. It was just for me and Dean. And now, to be blunt, it feels wrong going there without him. It was our dream. Just ours. No one else's."

I sat there for a bit. Then shrugged and nodded. As long as I was with Emily and got to fuck her when I wanted, what did I care where we lived?

"Sorry, Jay. I know it seems unfair. I'm probably being a real bitch..."

I answered her with a smile and a censored version of my thought process.

"Em love, to be honest, as long as we're together I don't care where we are." I said with a smile.

"Thanks, Jay. You're sweet." She smiled at me and I could see the relief in her eyes.

I didn't really care, but in the back of my mind I felt down in the dumps. And a new weight made itself present in my gut. I wondered if, subconsciously, I had been putting a lot of hope into the Heddaby farm plan. More than I had realised. 

What were we going to do now?

The answer was fuck. And that was the best answer I could think of. 

Emily seemed to have thought of it first and she leaned forward and threw her arms apart for me, inviting me into her embrace again. I swallowed another couple of Viagra.



She didn't seem to be quite so excited about sucking me off without me having a proper wash the second time, so we just had a hurried, frantic, tongue heavy snog and an excited fumble, some mutual masturbation and then I pushed her down onto her back on the cushions, swung her legs wide apart and then shoved it in her backdoor again.

She was still slightly open from the previous sodomy and it was easier pushing my way up her, though not too easy that it was slack and a less than intense a grip on my solid erection.

I hooked my forearms around the backs of her knees and leaned in, pressing her knees to her shoulders and getting my mouth to her proud nipples and sucking firmly at them while I pistoned my hard cock in and out of her gripping, piping hot guts.

Emily gave in with abandon this time, making lots of noise. She filled the living room with heavy, breathy, throaty, gasps and moans, vocal panting and whimpers and an almost animalistic mewling.

She humped against me, timing her thrusts perfectly to shove herself hard onto my erection as I thrust into her volcanic depths. I licked and sucked at her small but animated breasts, coating her with saliva and my own dripping sweat.

When she wasn't throwing her head back and filling the room with her vocal pleasure, she was shoving her face against my flesh, my shoulder and upper arms, the crook of my neck, sucking and licking at my apparently sweet tasting sweat. It never occurred to me to wonder why my sweat was sweet and not salty, I was far too enveloped with my own passions the enjoyment of Emily's ripe, lusty body.

"Bite my nipples Jay, chew on them hard!" She groaned as she thrust her upper body back onto the seat cushions beneath her. 

I followed her request to the letter, sucking them back into my mouth and then closing my teeth on their spongy firmness, gorging on them first with little light nips with my incisors, before turning my head slightly so I could get my blunter molars onto the erect buds to give them a good gnawing chew.

I didn't see them at first, just sensed a presence, which set my teeth on edge and threw my heart into my throat and I released her breast from my mouth and looked up through the large low window.

There were zombies outside. Lots of them. 

It wasn't a horde but there were probably thirty or forty of them, all spread out across the field from the woods right up the the front of the house, a couple of them smearing their rotting detritus across the rain drenched window pane only a few inches from Emily and myself.

They all seemed to be walking in the same general direction right to left from my perspective, my orienteering expertise and the position of the sun, telling me they were going in a northerly direction.

I wasn't particularly worried, the sun was at such an angle that it was reflecting off the window and essentially making it one way glass, I could see out but they couldn't see in. And the vertical streams of rainfall that coated the outside of the glass added another layer of camouflage. 




Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse Day 04



However, Emily's sex noises, though doing a lot to elevate my own enjoyment and engorging the stiffness to my erection were creating the risk of us being detected, so I quickly grabbed a small, oriental style, satin cushion and shoved it in her mouth, stifling her loud and nonstop moans.

She didn't seem to care, apparently liking the kinky S&M feel of being gagged and dominated. So I happily carried on sodomising her.

The heat and tightness of her lovely cinching rectum played a delightful and continual caress up and down my solid shaft and I was thoroughly enjoying myself as I leaned up and straightened my back. I grabbed the delectable cheeks of her arse and hammered into her with ever increasing strength, pulling her ass back onto me as I buggered her. Though all the while I tried my best to keep a level of control and rhythm to my ass fucking.

My head grew a little fuzzy as I excitedly shagged Emily's ass, my vision unfocussed and my hearing suddenly gained a new level of clarity. I could hear my splattering sweat splashing Emily's quivering nakedness, the creaking of the wooden frame of the window seat, the shuffling of the foam padding inside the cushions beneath us, the strikingly erotic sounds of our well lubricated flesh slicking back and forth, flesh against flesh. I could practically hear the sparking electricity of our constantly firing nerve endings but that was surely just my imagination going into overdrive.

There was a zombie at the window. It was standing there, looking in. Looking at me. Watching me fucking Emily's arse.

I knelt there aghast, though unable to stop thrusting my hips or clawing hornily at her ass cheeks. We gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment then I watched the zombie's attention dip, it looked down over my nakedness and then took in Emily's.

I carried on fucking. 

And then, all of a sudden I realised that the Zombie looked familiar. The was a deep sword wound in the side of his jaw and a flap of skin hand folded down from his hairline at his temple to the brow of his sunken, dead looking right eye and though his eyes and cheeks were sunken and there was a gray hue to his bloodless flesh it was undeniably the reanimated corpse of Dean McHugh.

The zombies in the clearing had killed him less than twenty four hours ago, chewed at his flesh and spilled his blood and I had dealt a fast, though accurate, stabbing blow through his jaw and into his cerebellum to separate the lizard brain from his spinal column.

And yet here he was, Emily's dead boyfriend. Standing at the window watching us fucking. We hadn't even waited until he had gone cold before getting together. He was witnessing that particular fact with his own lifeless eyes.

That was the precise moment that the voyeuristic zombie caught my eye again and gave me an unmistakable grin. And then threw me what appeared to be an encouraging wink.

I stared, even as the rest of my body continued to jerk my hips to drive my cock into Emily's ass, halfway between bemused and freaked out. And then as I watched the undead Dean, the face peering in through the window turned transparent, resembling a reflection of Dean's face in the glass.

I almost looked back over my shoulder, half expecting zombie-Dean to be standing behind us in the living room but I knew he couldn't be. I had made sure his death wouldn't lead to resurrection and I was sure my sword strike had been effective.

I carried on fucking Emily.



Though I didn't have a clock or watch I guessed, from the changing quality of the light, that quite some time had passed certainly well over an hour, since I had sunk my erection into Emily's ass.

I kind of numbness had descended over me, like a fog. My hands and hips worked robotically and Emily, the cushion-gag discarded now that zombie-Dean the zombie gang had passed us by, moaned out two orgasms, the second of which gushed out of her throbbing pussy in a little, clear fluid geyser, that coated and re-lubricated us both.

But my mind was definitely elsewhere. The only way I can describe it is that half my brain had suddenly shut down. I felt numb, it was as though I was floating, not in touch with the world. I was aware of everything but I felt kind of emotionally detached. Detached to such a degree that I noticed one part of my brain was actually analysing another part.

I was looking down at Emily and a lot of the emotional connection to her was diminished. As if she was now nothing more than a source of pleasure and as a vessel for my lust. And my erection. It was like looking down at a picture of a woman in a porn magazine.

I almost felt like I was reverting to a caveman-state or something. I didn't feel much in the way of emotional connection to this young woman anymore, no compassion or empathy. She was just there for my dick. Something to take pleasure from.

I was feeling less and less. All I was interested in were the hot waves of eroticism and pleasure that were coursing through my sweating, thrusting body. Waves that emanated from the point my erection caressed and stroked the tropical walls of Emily's tightly clenching, pulsing anus.

I felt uncaring, thoughtless, selfish. Only interested in my lust. And then, just as suddenly, something sparked in my brain and all of a sudden I was myself again, the emotional core of my feelings for Emily, which had fed my lust, blossomed again and I felt and overwhelming warmth and desire for the young brunette, beneath me. 

And as I watched her panting, mewling and jerking against me, stroking my flesh and licking at the trickling beads of sweat running down my body, my orgasm built, developed, peaked and then exploded like an atom bomb.

It was more of an emotional climax than physical, my head swimming with sexual pleasure and desire and gratification and lust, all focused on the young woman writhing beneath me, while she took my hot fluid tribute deep inside her quivering, contracting bowels.

It felt like a dozen thick streamers of spunk uncoiling from the crown of my orgasmic cock. I gave half to her bowels and then pulled out and spurted the last of my hot, plentiful seed over her quivering body. The long sprays lashed her from her pubic hair up to her breasts in long streams of scorching, pearlescent fluid.

Emily moaned and panted, her eyes wide as she watched my sperm splatter her. She dipped her fingers to her body and scooped some up with her fingertips and then sucked it off her fingers, savouring it in her mouth before swallowing adoringly.

Watching her do that and her lusty, sensual reaction to the taste and texture almost got me hard again. Almost.



"Jay, I've been thinking..." Emily said.

We had fallen asleep together naked, this time on the sofa in the living room, weakened and exhausted by the hours of heavy and frantic sex. 

Upon waking and seeing that night had fallen outside, we had returned to the relative safety of the attic room. 

While Emily had used the upstairs bathroom to bathe and freshen herself, with some stream water I had collected in buckets, and then dressed in fresh clothes taken from the house we were occupying, I blocked up the window again, lit the fire and then put some still ripe vegetables from the farm's larder and some tinned luncheon meat on to heat through for Emily. I wasn't hungry and just drank a couple of mugs of tea before taking my turn to bathe and find fresh clothes.

We sat side by side in the romantic glow of the dancing fire light and drank more tea.

There were annoying tingles in my hands and arms, right up to my elbows. Irritated, I shook them away, waiting for Emily to elaborate.

"...What I said this morning about not wanting to go to Heddaby, to my Nan's..."

"Okay..."

"I think I've been letting my guilt get the better of me..."

I didn't look at her when she spoke. Letting her have the spotlight. I watched the shadows on the walls and ceiling mirroring the motion of the flames in the open fire.

As I watched them they seemed to take on weird forms, human-like shapes who lumbered and limped, hunched over, twisted and awkward.

I knew what my brain was doing, stress and tiredness and probably hunger, even though I didn't feel hungry and was as strong as an ox, played silly tricks on your senses, made you fill in the blanks, like seeing shapes in clouds. I closed my eyes and shook the zombie shadows free of my attention. 

Tingles started in my toes, creeping up my calves and into my knees. I leaned back and stretched out my legs, pointing my toes and working my ankles to try and get the pins and needles out of my limbs.

"...I've been mourning Dean and obsessing about not betraying his memory, any more than the sex with you already is doing..." 

She interrupted herself, sliding off on a momentary tangent. 

"...Erm, I don't blame you for that by the way. It's my choice and I'm gonna stick to it so don't worry..."

"Good." I said, still trying to shift those damn resurgent tingles.

"Anyway, I'm rethinking the plan again. I changed my mind, it's still the safest option for us and it would be stupid to throw that away and endanger us over the memory of someone who's not with us any more. Even if it was only yesterday."

I could hear the catch in her voice and the sullen tone to the last thing she said, but I really didn't care. Dean fucked up. He wasn't strong enough to protect her and he paid for that mistake. She was mine now. Mine to have. Mine to keep.

"So, you want to head for Croth in the morning again?" I asked.

"Yes, if you still want to. Take a boat from Croth to Heddaby Isle and set up on Nan's farm."

"Long as you're with me I don't care where we go." I said simply. Honestly. 

I noticed that I was slurring my words a little. I was obviously more tired than I realised.

"You agree that it's still the best plan though? Don't you, Jay?"

"Yeah. It's best."

"You look knackered. We should go to bed. Get a good night's sleep and be ready to march." Emily announced, putting her cup down and taking mine from me.

I nodded and let her pull me over to the bed. I was horny and pawed at her as she undressed herself and then helped me strip too but I was bone weary all of a sudden and, though my erection sprang up, my energy levels were none existent.

Emily tried her best. She pulled me into bed, stroked my cock with one hand and kissed me, licked at my sweating body, again commenting at how sweet my flesh tasted. She leaned over me, stroking my heavy head with her breasts and then kissed her way down my body to my cock and took it into her mouth.

I pretty much fell asleep with her deep-throating my erection, sucking and slurping for all she was worth. However, even that wasn't enough to rouse me.

"Charming..." I heard her mutter, half amused, as she realised the loosing battle she was fighting.

To me it had sounded as if it was miles away. And it was the last thing I remembered of that night.



Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse Day 05



Day Five:

I watched Emily from behind as we wandered the fields in the late afternoon. We'd left the woods behind us about five miles after we'd left the farm house and we were now walking along in open fields full of wheat that had never been harvested. It was pretty good cover from the road which was only about a hundred yards to our left.

Emily wore a red and white checked shirt that was too big for her, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and the tails tucked in. Still, as ever with men's shirts over the female form, the end result was pretty enticing all the same.

The baggy jeans were also too big for her and she had had to buckle a big old leather belt around her waist to hold them in place and turn up the legs three times. The cinched in waist pulled them up tight against her ass though and the view was very nice from where I was.

I wanted to throw her down amongst the wheat and fuck that ass right now, but I knew the noise and the obvious shaking of the wheat stalks would be a dead give away to anyone near by, so I held off my desire.

We had slaked our lusts in the morning anyway.

I had woken up with a tremendous boner, maintained its state with a gulped down Viagra tablet and then looked over at the object of my hard on.

Emily was right there, half draped over me and snoring softly into the crook of my neck. I gently eased away from her and she rolled onto her back, then I threw the duvet off us and feasted my eyes on her ripe young body.

She was naked and her legs were already half spread, so I immediately got down between them, eased them further apart and started to lick at her pussy. 

As I licked, I watched her vulva swell and the hot pink lips spread to expose her inner folds and clitoris. She moaned and then let out a long undulating groan and smiled sleepily. I buried my tongue in her snatch and went to town.

She woke up right away and I tongue lashed her to a quick and vocal climax, switching halfway through to her clit and giving it a good working over. Once she was panting and stroking at my lanky brown hair, I reared up and lay between her spread thighs and drove my solid hard on into her hot, swolloen pussy. She arched and let out a kind of breathy gasp of shock at being filled so suddenly and deeply. 

But I didn't give her a moment and started to fuck her with quick, full length strokes.

"Jay, not in my pussy, please! It's not right. I..." 

She let out a long exhale, blowing through her pursed lips as the lubricated friction of cock flesh and vaginal walls started to get to her.

"...I don't... Ohhhh... God!" She tried to protest but it was all in word and not deed.

"Oh... Fuck me, that feels good. Mmmm. Yes. I've missed this! Shag me Jay, stuff me to bursting with that fat cock. Oh yes, Jay Oh God!"

And she climaxed right then and there, bucking and jerking and writhing under me, her pussy gushing fluid all over my thrusting erection. She was making so much noise, high gasping wails and moans, that she shoved her fist into her mouth to stifle her own crescendo.

The feel of her contracting pussy, her liquid climax, her vocal reaction and her mouthwatering sex-face expressions were more than enough to get me off too.

Though I didn't put much weight in Dean's insistence in the dangers of pregnancy in this apocalyptic world, I still wasn't prepared to tempt fate so I jerked my swelling, tightening cock out of her heavenly pussy and gave it a couple of tugs and blasted the contents of my bloated balls all over Emily's body.

It hit her from her pubic mound right up the length of her body, into her hair. My hot spunk splashed her face, her quivering tits, her palpitating stomach and everywhere in between, in a half dozen strong liquid ropes and splattered droplets.

Wheezing and basking in the afterglow of my orgasm, I rolled off Emily and lay beside her panting and trying not to fall into fits of giddy post climatic laughter.

"Ohhhh. Fuck. Oh God. Oh Goddamn that was good, Jay. I haven't had my pussy filled like that in sooo long. Oh Jesus." Emily groaned.

"Don't know why you're such a good fuck Jay, but thank you. Mmmmm." She sighed, her own glee clearly audible in her soft, throaty voice.

We had snoozed together for a while but eventually got up and made our move to leave. We had taken an extra hour to nip down to the stream to bathe first and replenish our supplies of drinking water and then by noon we were on our way.

*****

It was overcast, the clouds gray and heavy, approaching but not quite stormy. Fortunately, there wasn't much wind at least.

The first point of interest we came across was from a hillside, past the farms and overlooking the road that was matching our direction.

The grass was long here, a deep emerald, like moss but ankle deep. The hill peaked and gave us a sodden and very gray view of rain misted rolling hills and rocky patches that spread out before us, criss-crossed by a few minor roads. And right though the middle of the scene, moving left to right and off into the distance in what I judged to be north was a great expanse of flattened grass, as though a huge stream roller had driven through the area, or a stampeding herd of cattle or something. 

As we got closer I could smell a trace of the reek of rotten flesh. A horde of zombies had passed though here. To Emily though, the stench seemed a lot stronger, she wrinkled her nose, pulling a face and pressing the back of her hand to her mouth.

"Fuck, that stinks." She moaned.

"Zombie horde's been this way."

"Obviously." She muttered.

Fortunately, I was leading Emily northwest, so the mass of the undead would remain off to our right from this point on.

It started to rain, which I thought might help with the stench in the air. Emily, once again, dragged out the rolled up olive green waterproof Macintosh from a pocket in her rucksack, muttering to herself as she did and trying to hurry as the rainfall intensified almost at once.

"I hate this thing, I sweat like a pig in it!" She moaned as she un-slung her rucksack and started to drag the thin zip up coat on.

"Take your blouse off, you'd be cooler under it."

"Perv." She laughed, throwing the hood up and tightening the draw strings at the collar.

I waited for her to put her backpack back on and pick up the Remington. My legs were tingling all the way up to my thighs now, and I could feel the pins and needles starting in my wrists and elbows. They didn't hurt but they were damned infuriating.

*****

We came across a zombie a half mile further on but it was the dog that first alerted us to the potential danger. We heard it before we saw it, growling and barking just ahead of us, beyond the top of the low hill we were climbing.

We crested the hill and looked down on a narrow country road that cut a left to right path through the valley below. Right in the middle of the road there had been a collision between a military Humvee and a motorcycle.

The Humvee seemed to have struck the bike and dragged both rider and vehicle beneath it. The bike was half visible beneath the utility vehicle's bent chassis.

The biker, leather clad, was trapped under the Humvee by his bike and had died and become reanimated where he was. His upper body was in motion but from the waist down he was immobile, either crippled or pinned. It was this biker zombie that the dog was barking at. 

The dog was trying to get at another body that lay about a foot away from the limit of the zombie's reach. Every time the dog went for the other body, a dead soldier, the zombie, groaning and snapping desperately with his teeth, tried to reach for the dog. Each snatching, zombie grab frightened the animal and, barking with frustration, it darted to safety. Though it obviously wasn't ready to give up its meal.

We carefully made our way to the road, all the while keeping an eye and an ear in every direction. And we were also wary of the dog, feral and hungry, who knows how it would react to living humans these days.

There turned out to be two soldiers. Both of them devoid of weapons and armour but both still wearing their standard MTP pattern uniforms.

The one the dog was after was face down in the road and half of his head had been destroyed by bullet impacts. The other was sitting in the Humvee's driver's seat. His neck was obviously broken.

"Stop for a minute." I muttered to Emily. "Keep an eye out."

As I approached with a Katana in one hand and my crossbow pistol in the other, the dog looked up at me, snatched at the dead soldier's hand one last time, failed because of the zombie and then gave up and ran off up the road.

I breathed a sigh of relief then went over to the Humvee. I used a low and hard, over the shoulder slice with the Katana to dispatch the zombie biker and then turned and opened the driver's side door. 

I dragged the second solider out of the Humvee, decided he was probably dead less than a day and then stripped him of his uniform and changed into it, liking the idea of proper camouflage and relatively fresh clothes. They were a bit damp but seemed okay to me.

Obviously, the broken neck had severed the connection between his cerebellum and his spinal cord so reanimation had never taken place.

Once I completed a quick check for anything useful in the Humvee, and finding nothing, I gathered up Emily and we headed off up over the next gray, mist laden, rise, maintaining our northwest direction in the streaming, saturating rain.

"Jay, why do we never drive anywhere? They can't all be out of petrol, surely."

"No, that's not the problem. Dead batteries are the issue, there's no way I know of to charge a car battery anymore." I replied. 

"A portable generator and a battery charger? We could look out for a Halfords or something." She teased. 

I could tell she was joking, but I couldn't bring myself to smile. I was getting tired, the tingling in my limbs was starting to affect my movements and unlike yesterday, they weren't easing off yet. 

"Besides, the country roads might be okay but major roads'd be a nightmare, I think. That and the noise of a car would attract every zombie and scavenger for miles. Walking's quieter and safer."

"Suppose you're right." She said, then muttered "Smart arse." Under her breath.

*****

We actually came across the zombie horde as the rain started to pelt, harder than ever. I heard their infernal, groaning, rumble. It was like a slow moving convoy of articulated lorries though always just out of sight. 

They were to our right, quite a distance away and we were in a valley so the corresponding hills were between us and the horde and I kept it that way, and maintained my northwesterly direction.

Soon enough their stench died away followed by their hellish nightmare din. I hadn't really smelled them at all this time and relied on Emily's reactions to judge.

*****

"Shouldn't be much further now." I said, to the back of Emily's head.

"Good." She muttered. 

Clearly the weather was getting to her and she had started to speed up, maybe she had realised herself how close we had to be. Either that or I was slowing down.

"Quite like it round here," She said over her shoulder. "Apart from this awful drizzle."

I looked around at the ground and the rain clouds. Everything was dull and gray and misty. The ground was rocky with a short mossy grass mostly covering the rocky ground. The grass seemed to be fighting with actual moss for supremacy. It was an uneven but smooth surface, a bit on the slippery side.

A few trees dotted the landscape and mountains framed us to the right, their peaks hidden amongst low clouds and mist. Patches of fern-like bracken grew here and there.

"It kinda reminds me of the Lakes." She added.

"Yeah. It's kinda similar I suppose."

I was wondering if the tingling in my extremities would ever stop and then it did. Right on cue. 

I wasn't able to celebrate however as voices came to us from the still, rain drenched, air.

Without waiting for instructions, Emily ducked down in a hollow and I joined her there.

I was momentarily distracted by her. We had been walking side by side for hours but there had always been a few feet between us. And for whatever reason there hadn't been much in the way of chit chat. Being close to her now, my damp body pressed up against hers, feeling the solid, though soft, firmness of her and maybe a hint of her body heat, brought back my desire for her. I wanted to fuck. To get my hands on her, to strip her right here and now on this damp moorland. 

I quickly suppressed my lusts and focused instead on the voices.

"Fuck! I need a woman!" One of the voices grumbled in a thick Glaswegian accent. "All we have is that Korean chick and the fatty. We need new blood mate."

"Yeah laddie, we go through 'em too quick, that's fer sure. Maybe Jock's group'll get lucky and bring us back some new whores."

"Just what I was gonna say mate."

Though I couldn't see them I could tell they were still quite a way off but their voices, raised and showing their lack of fear and a degree of arrogance, like bullish teenagers on the backseat of a bus, carried on the wind and we could hear them clearly. 

"I'd want someone like that Anna Reece. Remember her?"

"Remind me laddie."

"She worked at the Louden. About twenty two or three? Cute, skinny blonde piece, sculpted eye brows and always had that pouty pink lippy on. Fuckin' well sexy gray eyes? Never wore a bra...?"

"Oh, her wit' the saggy tits! Everyone was always hosin' down her tops! I remember her. She were a fuckin' slag mate!"

"That's why I'd want somethin' like her!"

"Ha ha ha! Yer a dirty bastard Jimmy! Now me I'd rather have... Remember that bank teller in town? Up on Scotia? Near the Airdrie Tavern."

"The Brunette with the sexy arse on her?"

"Ne'h that was our Mark's Niece. No the one who worked in the back most days."

"Oh, the MILF? The one with short blonde hair who's dyed half of it red."

"Yeah, but she had red hair and had blonde dye in it. Poppy her name was. Lips like that Angelina Jolie. Really funny she was. I chatted her up every Saturday, mornin' I did."

"Weren't really my type. She had nice green eyes, but no tits t'speak of."

"Oh yer wrong there Jimmy, she fuckin' did, but unlike these 'ere young un's a'yours she didn't feel the need to let everyone see 'em..."

The hollow was a rut forced into the landscape, like a deep gouge in the earth. It trailed off to my left and met a cluster of jutting rocks. It was a fortunate place as it would allow me to slip away from where myself and Emily were hiding without being spotted by the men, who were still approaching and still unseen. The idea was already forming in my brain. Take them unawares and cut them down fast and forcefully before they had the chance to react or cry out.

"Right, here's the plan." I whispered, turning to Emily. "You count to fifty then climb up and go toward them. I'll circle around behind them and take them." 

I drew one of my swords, un-slinging my backpack and leaving it beside her in the hollow. With a thought I drew the Wakizashi as well. 

"Nothing beats a bit of Ni-ten Ichi Ryu." I muttered to myself with a grin.

"I don't know. What if they start shooting?"

"They won't, they'll be able to see you're alive."

"I don't fancy being bait, Jay. Especially with what they're talking about." 

"It proves they won't want to kill you. Listen, I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. It'll be fine. Trust me."

"Okay..." She whispered, though her fear was palpable, and understandable.

"Be quick." She added.

I gave her a smile. And a hot, lingering kiss on her rain damp, pursed lips. Then, just as I was going to leave her, I remembered the shotgun beside her.

"Oh and leave that out of sight." I added, nodding across at the Remington. "And whatever you do, don't use it, the noise'd be heard for miles around."

"Fine. Get going." She mumbled.

Keeping low, I shuffled off along the gouge and behind the rocks and then hurried across and around to another hollow and then waited for them to come closer, listening to their inane banter and waiting for Emily to step into their line of sight.

"...Took her out once right before the end. Had a meal in Dylan's, got pissed and we went back to her's. I saw her tits then lemme tell ya!"

"Quality rack was it?"

"Fuckin' A! Pretty saggy but good couple'a handfuls each. Long fat nips too. Spunked all over 'em twice I did."

The younger one started laughing and then interrupted himself. 

"Hang on what's that?"

I knew it had to have been Emily's big entrance. And I risked popping my head up over the concealing rocks to take a peek.

She had tugged off the rainproof mac and opened up half the buttons on her blouse to show off her breasts bouncing around in the garment, even in she couldn't give them much on an eyeful of cleavage. The ground was uneven and she was stumbling and slipping a little.

"Is that a dead 'un?"

"Dunno. It's female though..."

I glanced across at the two men who were now just past me on my left. They were both dirty, in a mash up of denims and leathers. One was taller and broader with a beer gut. The other was short and scrawny, and moved a bit jerkily, as though he had energy to burn. The big one wore a cowboy hat and the other a baseball cap. They both sported straggly brown hair tumbling from under their head gear, though the bigger man's mop was shot through with gray. 

One carried a length of heavy chain which he had looped around one fist while in the other hand he hefted a meat cleaver. A large splitting axe with a long ash haft was stuffed, at an angle, down the back of his belt. The other one had a machete sheathed and strapped down to his left leg and actually carried a spear. A sharpened replica of what I assumed was an African tribal spear. Christ knows where he got that from. 

"But is it dead?" The little one asked, glancing at his companion.

"Who cares laddie! Cut her jaw 'n hands off and it won't matter!"

The older one drew his machete, while he stabbed the spear tip into the sodden mossy earth. And then stepped forward.

"Hiya," Emily called out uncertainly. She was obviously fearful. "Can you lads help me?"

"We'll that ain't no dead 'un!" The young one confirmed with an excited laugh. 

I rose up from my hiding place and sprinted towards them, I only had about or twenty or thirty yards distance to cover.

"Aye lassie, I'll give yer some help." The bigger one called to Emily, unmistakable, horny, glee colouring his deep, gruff accent.

Emily caught something in his voice that stuttered her progress towards them, one hand came up to her now damp blouse to close up the front in a fisted grasp.

The two men laughed at her sudden fear and modesty.

"No need ter cover yerself lassie, you're not gonna have much call for clothes."

"Not fer the rest'a yer life babe." The younger, scrawny one added with a slightly freakish laugh.

But Emily smiled. She was looking off to the left of the two men and behind them, at me, running up behind them with my arms spread out and a sword gripped in each hand.

I had a sudden burst of energy from who knows where, adrenaline I suppose. I'd been feeling increasingly lethargic in the last few hours, and I was having bouts of that weird caveman-syndrome thing again, when I'd go emotionally numb and my brain felt like it was partially shutting down. 

But right at that moment, I felt like I was eighteen again and protecting my girlfriend from a couple of drunken louts in town on a Friday night. Though back in the day I wouldn't have used a couple of Samurai swords to do it.

I took the older man's head right off with one huge, savage, swing of the Katana and then, running past his blood geysering, decapitated body, I wheeled around. 




Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse Day 05



I stuck the shorter sword deep into the belly of the other man, let go of the sword and then brought up the Katana two handed. I quickly wheeled it around my head and then brought it down hard and fast in a proper slicing cut, through his trapezius and a good six inches into the muscle and sinew of his neck.

He tried to scream but as I tugged the blade free of his neck, I must have severed his vocal cords, or his larynx had filled up with blood or something, I'm not that well up on anatomy. Either way his scream came out as a bubbling, gurgling hiss.

He fell down, writhing and choking. I let him come to a still silence before I took back my Wakizashi. Emily came up alongside me, buttoning up her blouse and looking down numbly, at the two bodies. Already I could feel my energy sapping, my caveman sense returning.

"You want the machete or anything?" I asked her, while I still had enough concern for her well being.

"No. Let's get going." She said simply.

She looked down at them for a another moment before turning back for her things. I followed her.

*****

We rested on the last hill that looked down on the outskirts of Croth, which consisted of a few houses dotted about, flanking the singular road that slithers south to north. And then, between us and the houses, it was all farm land, which we were currently hiding on.

We found another one of those gouged hollows, a remnant from the last ice age maybe? And settled into it to have a good look through my binoculars at the harbour town and the harbour itself. 

Actually Emily, walking ahead of me, found the hollow and waited for me to catch her up. She had pulled on her olive coloured rain mac again, but she was still wearing the jeans and the mac didn't reach down beyond the under curves of her lush, perky buttocks. Though it was as much down to a lack of energy, I enjoyed walking behind her, it allowed me to admire the lush shape of her flexing ass cheeks in those cinched tight jeans. I lay down beside her on my stomach and worked the binoculars free of a pocket in my backpack.

The current residents seemed to have massed themselves right near the harbour area. There were caravans, a couple of motor homes, a few camper vans and a cluster of tents filling a walled off area of concrete and stone that I assumed used to be a fish market. 

There were also big bonfires dotted around, for warmth and cooking. An overlapping line of trucks, buses and coaches pressed in bumper to bumper created a barricade around the area where the walls stopped short, had been hurriedly fashioned, mostly to the north and south. 

In the southern part of the vehicle barrier there was a gap between two of the buses and in the gap they had erected a kind of makeshift fence and gate. It had been made of a metal tubing framework with a chain link lattice. It was lashed together with rope and wire and a thick chain lashed the gate shut. I guessed it was probably an escape route for vehicles if the place was overrun, you could just about drive a bus through the gate if it was opened fully.

I counted about twenty or so visible individuals, in and around the camp and the bonfires. I wondered why they were using those vehicles and not the houses that started only a couple of hundred yards away from the market area. 

Maybe the houses provided the fuel for the fires or something. Maybe there were two tiers of people and the top tier had claimed the comfort of the houses. I neither knew nor particularly cared.

I threw my binocular-view over to the left to where the harbour was situated, essentially just beyond the market area, with only a seafront wave defence barrier between the two.

I spotted a half dozen small motorboats still moored, apparently safely, in the harbour. There were also a few larger yachts and a number of commercial fishing boats. But since everything ended, people didn't see the point in working for a living anymore. Money no longer mattered, maybe a few fishing families carried on catching enough fish to feed themselves, maybe a few carried on for a sense of normality. Normality in a world that was no longer normal. It was just how they tried to cope, I supposed.

"We'll have to find the right kind of boat. One with the right kind of engine."

"S'okay, Jay. I know what to look for."

I trained the binoculars across the small clusters of men in the market area, looking for levels of danger, of the kinds of weapons they appeared to be carrying. 

I quickly spotted a crown of a half dozen of them or more. They were surrounding the pale pink form of a naked woman of undetermined age. She was blonde and overweight. Not obese but definitely fat. She had huge milky white breasts that sagged and shook as she knelt there between three of the men, sucking their cocks one at a time, while she masturbated the second two. 

Her wavy hair was tied up into pig tails that the men used like handlebars to pull her mouth this way and that, either deeper onto the cock she was busy sucking or from one cock to the next. The other few were standing around watching, maybe waiting for their turn to take the place of one of the three getting serviced.

As I watched, she was picked up under the arms, hauled to her feet and then manhandled over to a old iron bed frame with a large, too large, mattress dumped roughly on it. 

The bed was situated underneath a roughly erected cheap looking pop up gazebo. It had a metal framework, weighed down with bricks and a plastic roof to keep off the worst of the rain, but there were no walls and it must have been freezing cold for the poor blonde woman.

Her head was yanked back to hang over the side of the bed and a cock was shoved deep into her mouth. A second man knelt between her slapped apart legs and thrust his cock into her pussy, then grabbed her huge tits in his hands as he started to fuck her. The third man reached over with a hand to rub at her clit and caress her naked flesh wherever he could get his hands to it. After a few seconds of this, he apparently got bored and pressed his way in tight alongside the man shagging her face and forced her to take two cocks into her mouth.

I watched for another few seconds, thinking to myself that this was probably the fate the those people would have in store for any woman they came across.

"Whatever happens Em..." I muttered to my girlfriend. "...If you get a chance, go for the boat, no matter what. Even if you have to leave me behind. Just go for the boat."

"Okay. I will." She replied, a little concern showing on her face even though she was unaware of what I had just witnessed.

"And thanks for getting us this far though, Jay. We... I couldn't have made it without you."

I flashed her a quick smile then passed the binoculars to her. She took a look down at the town for herself.

"Jesus, there's a lot of them..." She muttered, her voice understandably thick with fear. "...Jesus..."

"We'll skirt around there to the left, where that little gouged pathway is, if we stay low we should be able to make it all the way to the quay. We'll keep low and move fast, hopefully they won't see us until its too late."

"We should try and get a boat that's as as far out as possible, close to the open sea." Emily added, as she passed the binoculars back to me.

"Good idea." I commented.

We went as quickly and quietly as we could but Emily was getting ahead of me as my energy levels were falling quickly. The tingles in my limbs were back and I could feel them right up into my groin and through my pectorals as well now. I struggled to keep up with her as we ran, crouched down in the gouges and hollows marking the hillside.

We did well for a while but then found we had another hill crest to go over. We hesitated, watching the gang of scavengers in the harbour town who were now much closer. We were both so close to our goal now that we weren't prepared to wait too long and we crested the hilltop and started down the nearside. 

And the minute we started forward, one of the group looked straight at us. I dropped like a brick and froze.

"Em, get down! Stay still!" I hissed at her, urgently.

She dropped and froze copying me. Tingles of anxiety ripped through my guts and added their own dimension to the pins and needles in my extremities. I was okay I think, I was wearing the soldier's MTP camouflage. Emily had on the olive green mac which was fine, but I worried her blue jeans would stand out against the mossy grass beneath her.

Fortunately, after a few seconds, the watcher turned away and wandered off through the tents, toward the large naked, blonde woman I had spotted earlier.

He didn't seem to be talking to anyone or raising any alarms so I assumed we were okay and I let out a long sigh of relief and nodded reassuringly at Emily.

We got up, hurried as best we could to the relative safety behind another hillock and carried on, down and left, toward the outer edge of the wharf.

*****

We almost made it. 

We got into the town without being seen, had the big concrete breakwater barrier between us and the scavenger gang and had boats galore to our left. We were running for the concrete pier-like finger that jutted out toward the gap between the two breakwater barriers that would lead us to the open sea.

Emily was about ten or fifteen yards ahead of me, which was fine. She was the one with the boating know-how. She would pick out the right boat and then drive it once we were on board.

And then a big fishing net came hurtling onto her from over the barrier, spreading out like bright green netting wings in the salt-heavy, gray sky above her. It caught her and tripped her and the slippery concrete, under her feet, brought her to the ground.

Another net was cast for me, it missed as I was half expecting it, but I got my boot caught in the one that had captured Emily, and I went sprawling. Before I knew it there were a half dozen men on us and I was kicked and punched, wrapped up in the net like a fly in a spider's web, before both of us were unceremoniously dragged back over to the fish market courtyard.

In the middle of the market area surrounded by bonfires and twenty or more men, that were in equal parts angry and horny, we were dragged out of the nets, our weapons and packs ripped away from us and I was subjected to another beating.

Emily, of course was set upon immediately by two of them. I didn't see all that much as my hands were up trying to protect my face and head from booted kicks and the like, however, I saw more than enough.

One of them grabbed her on the ground and held her in a choke hold while the other forcibly yanked off her boots, jeans and knickers, then between them they ripped open her blouse and cut her bra off. Of course, she was screaming and struggling all the while, but she was over powered and had no where to run to. If she had escaped there were a score more men who wouldn't have hesitated to take her on.

"Ha ha! Nice and ripe! I'm first! I get her cunt!"

"Fine by me!"

"Fill her throat up Connor, cut that noise down a bit!"

"Fuck that Angus, I wanna hear her racket. I'm taking her in the shitter!"

I took a kick to the head and saw stars. Emily's screams and panicked, desperate, weeping cries exploded in intensity in my head, as though my ears had suddenly been unblocked.

"No! No! Get off! Please don't!" Emily was squealing in absolute and unbridled panic. "Please, it hurts! Don't no! No! No! Noooooooo!"

My vision cleared for a moment. One of them was lying on his back with Emily on top of him, held in a bear hug, her naked legs forced to spread outside of his hips. I could see his hips already hammering rhythmically up and down and I glimpsed his erection, ruddy and raw and so hard, pumping ten to the dozen inside her violated vagina.

"Ahh! Ahn! Ahn!! Ahhn! Ahhh! Aahhh! Aahhhh! Aaahhhh!!"

And then the other one crouched over her, spreading his legs on the outside of hers, spreading her naked, pale ass cheeks with one hand and pressing his own cock, which looked bigger than mine, against her arse hole with the other. 

Another boot tip got through my raised forearm defence and caught me right in the bridge of the nose and my vision went black. But I heard Emily's hoarse, agonised scream clearly.

"Oh God, no! No! Don't!" Emily stuttered, already pained by the rape and knowing full well where the other man was about to stick his unlubricated meat. "I'm begging you! Please... Pleeeaase! NOO! AAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

Her cry descended into blubbering, pain racked, sobs that easily maintained the noisy agonised desperation of her initial squeal as he had pierced her anal mouth and drove his big shaft balls deep.

The blackness began to consume me, I felt the continued concussions of their booted feet hitting me over and over and through it, like a psychopath with an armful of butcher knives, Emily's despairing cries and sobs stabbed into my attention over and over again. Inside I sobbed along with her. Though for Emily, not for myself.

I could smell death. It was all around me, permeating the air like the salt from the sea breeze that continued to whip at us. Death was coming.

And that was the precise moment that I died.

*****

DAY FIVE - EPILOGUE.

"Has he croaked it already?"

"Looks like he has..."

"Jock, stick an axe through his skull. Make sure he dun't come back."

"Right'oh..."

I don't really know why I died at that particular moment. The poet in me liked to think it was my broken heart, because I had failed Emily. 

As I had watched her being gang raped, I had been acutely aware of the short and horrible life she had in store for her with these scavengers. These monsters. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. Because I had just died.

It was especially painful because of where we had been, on the very brink of a new life of peace and safety. One short, easy boat trip away. And now it had all gone to Hell. I was dead and Emily was going to experience the exact kinds of bestial horrors that I had promised myself I would protect her from.

But from the ethereal blackness of my death came a spark. It was a black spark with a dull red core and it flashed into my cerebellum, dancing a new kind of life into my lizard brain. No, not life. Reanimation. A new awareness kicked in, based solely around my needs. For food and for violence. 

The psychological needs were no longer necessary, health, companionship, sex. They were all irrelevant. I wasn't even an animal now. Animals had needs - to mate, to be protected, to feel safe, to reproduce. 

I just wanted to eat.

The need fuelled everything else, firing up the core of my brain to allow me to control my body, to register and interpret the information from my senses, to bite and tear and chew and swallow.

The need then started to transfer physically to my body, reawakening my awareness, to a degree, giving me control of my limbs. I opened my eyes and looked around.

I don't know how much time had passed, maybe a minute? There was a dull ache in my head. I could still hear and see Emily being brutally double penetrated by the two men, but it meant nothing to me now. Well, apart from the fact that the man busy sodomising poor Emily had one leg pressed well back and braced against the stone floor, mere inches from me.

I could hear my kin. They were coming. Groaning with their hunger. A great swathe of them. I could smell their approach on the wind, a cross wind from the south. 

The first of them were close and I glanced over at the chain link fence to the south. So far there were only three of them but more were visible behind and then a mass of them appeared over the crest of the hills. They were all following the three at the front, all about to converge on the chain link fence and the gate.

The human's were all too enraptured by the spectacle of Emily's gang rape. Too enamoured with the idea of new flesh to satisfy themselves with.

The visual soupcon of her partially naked flesh, her agonised face, the trickling tears and the despairing, squealing moans she was throwing out in all directions, tantalised them all, ignited their desires and distracted them from the approaching storm of my brothers and sisters.

The dull ache in my head insisted that I spend a moment wondering about it. I looked and saw a blurry shape cutting though my eye line. I managed to focus and recollect enough to not only understand what I was seeing but put a name to the object. Axe. 

There was a small hatchet sticking out of my skull. My human brain would have been able to realise and deduce that the axe had only penetrated my frontal lobe and hadn't damaged my cerebellum.

But I was hungry, like never before, ravenous, mindlessly hungry. And the sensation cut through the realisation of the axe stuck in my head and pulled me back to Hunger. 

And there, right there, inches away, sweetly aromatic, making my mouth water and filling all my senses with its delicious allure was that anal rapist's leg.

I went for that leg, rolling, scrabbling, trying to reacquaint myself with my body, finally leaping across the flag stones and sinking my teeth into the wiry flesh of the hairy leg just above the ankle. Before anyone even noticed.

I was engulfed in blood and flesh but my senses were wired, running on overdrive. I could smell and hear my kin. I could hear panicky shouts from the human's now that they had noticed the horde's proximity. I heard the first clattering bursts of gun fire and the scent of cordite adding its smoky acridity to the sea-salt in the air.

I heard the rattling of the chain link fence as the sheer weight of the horde pressed up against it. It rattled and creaked and groaned and then it gave in with an almighty, thunderous crash. 

They were in the town. My brothers and sisters. And they were hungry. 

And, of course, so was I. 

The anal rapist was trying to scream but I had pushed my fingers through his throat while I tore chunks of his calf muscle away from the bone. The hot splash of sweet, salty blood was just sensational. We struggled and rolled about together, incidentally pulling him away from Emily and more than likely protecting her from me as well.

The other rapist beneath her was half aware that something was wrong and lifted her off him, violently throwing her to the ground and then trying to shove his raw, bloody, cock back into his trousers and attempting to reach for his long kitchen knife, all at the same time. He didn't quite manage either of them quickly enough.

I savaged the anal rapist's throat with my hand and then threw myself over to the other man. Surprising how much strength can be mustered when there's fresh food within a couple of yards.

He must have stabbed me through my back three or four times while I flailed on him, blinded by my hunger and sheer, mindless gratification in the violence of my feasting. The stabbing wounds didn't do a thing to me. I barely registered them.

I sank my teeth into his face and chewed through his cheek then sucked one eye out of its socket and chewed it until it popped under my gnashing teeth. My finger nails clawed at his abdomen and groin, raking rough, bloody gashes into his goose-bumped flesh. I found his soft testicles and tore at them. His screams, already wild, went into over drive until my teeth chewed into his throat and snapped his vocal cords. He would have drowned in his own hot, sweet blood, if the shock hadn't killed him first.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Emily, clambering to her feet, snatching up her trousers and boots and then sprinting hell for leather toward the sea. 

There was nothing between her and it now and everyone else was busy trying to survive the zombie onslaught.

I had a momentary urge to chase after her and taste her pale, succulent flesh. However, the hot blood filling my mouth, as I pushed my face into the rapist's throat and gorged myself on him, mesmerised me and I stayed put and feasted jubilantly.




Girlfriend in the Zombie Apocalypse Day 05



All round me my kin were lumbering into town and attacking anything that wasn't me.

I abruptly realised that I loved the chase as much as the feasting, it exhilarated my animal brain, the sheer excitement of it, so I left my feast in favour of fresh meat, the hot pulsing flow of fresh blood.

I spotted a small, short haired woman, wrapped in an old dressing gown, running across the market, her eyes fixed on a pile of things that I felt like I should recognise. Just behind her another woman, naked with a lot of delicious flesh was running screaming, chased by four of my kin. She slammed into the side of a caravan, banging on the door and screaming to be let in but the zombies were on her, scratching and biting at her slick and plentiful flesh. They dragged her to the floor with their weight and she screamed blue murder as she practically disappeared beneath them. 

My kin were denied the kill by the other smaller and older woman, who had retrieved a pump action shotgun from beside a discarded backpack. She fired three shots into the pile of writhing, squealing flesh, killing the big naked female and then quickly turned the gun on herself and blew her own head off. 

Disappointed at being cheated an opportunity to kill, I moved on.

Men ran for the boats and I lumbered after them. One of them tripped, then stumbled and fell face first. I launched myself on him along with a female zombie that had blue punk style hair, a very generous figure, half exposed in an open white blouse, a leather miniskirt, knee socks, ankle boots. I liked her.

We attacked the man together. He dragged the axe from my skull and sunk it into my back but it didn't even slow me down. I let the blue punk-haired sister have his lower half, while my teeth found their way to his meaty shoulder and I bit down and tore at the flesh while my fingers clawed at his throat. I scratched and scraped through flesh and tendon, opening his jugular vein and then bathed with pure undead joy in the hot crimson shower that burst from the wound.

I looked around, chewing on a torn off chunk of raw bicep. Blue-punk-zombie was chewing on his penis, trying to separate it from his body but she seemed to be having trouble for some reason.

I left her to it and got up, wanting more fresh blood to flow. 

I saw another zombie near me. He was leaning over a struggling and crying man. Another brother was pinning the man's legs while he chewed at one exposed thigh while the other tore off the human's nose and cheek with his teeth. 

The man's screams were a little jarring so I turned away and staggered over toward the huge barrier wall. I was hoping some of the men that had run that way had been trapped and were still alive. 

They had been trapped but they weren't still alive and a score of zombies shared their meat. Amongst them, one female caught my eye, though for reasons I couldn't fathom. 

She had black hair with red in it, though it wasn't blood. She had a robust body and she was topless and, leaning over her dinner, her huge breasts swung pendulously and a little silver trinket glinted between them.

She chewed a throat open, pulling the bitten gash wider with both hands and her face twisted into as close as a zombie can get to jubilance as the hot blood gulped upwards, oozing over her face and upper body as she pressed herself down into the hole and she writhed against her meal as she ate.

I enjoyed the spectacle, though I wanted to join in myself, I didn't. Instead I lumbered up around the side of the barrier to the wharf and looked out across the sea.

I could see, almost silhouetted against the setting sun, the small, squat, angular, shape of a boat, cutting through the waves. 

And on board was a single, tiny, female figure. She was just barely visible, heading out to sea.

The End.