A Road Well Travelled (By Zombies)byLexavier©
Author's Note: Please comment or vote with your honest opinions. Big shout out to my editor zoyiab for doing a very professional job, thankyou. (And to my friends that gave me the support I needed to finish this!)
I watched as her skilled lips wrapped around his big, rigid cock. He threw back his head, gritting his teeth together in muffled pleasure. Through the dim light I could see her working her head back and forth, and could just about hear her soft moans, stimulating him with her voice. He reached down and twined his fingers through her hair as she took him deeper, filling the room with the wet sounds of his throbbing member hitting the back of her throat.
He looked like he was going to cum, and a sly smile crept onto my face as I watched her expertly grip him firmly, forcing him down from the brink. She did this several times, bobbing her head up and down on his cock and massaging him with her tongue, bringing him so close to climaxing before gripping him again. It was fascinating to watch.
Finally she released him, burying him deep into her throat as he exploded. She slurped down his cum as he blasted again and again, but not even her obvious skills were enough to stop his semen from dribbling down her chin. She licked it all up, cleaning his dick of his seed and swallowing it all down.
The couple dressed swiftly and left the storage room and I was free to move around once more. Private moments are so precious nowadays and I hadn't wanted to disturb them. I waited a few more minutes before grabbing a bottle of water from the shelf and heading back out onto the crowded floor.
People were huddled together, what was left of their meagre possessions gathered around them. I returned to my place against one wall, sitting down beside my bag and continued to watch the crowd. Heavily armed men casually strolled through the people, drawing a few vague smiles.
I snuck a small mirror and some foundation out of my purse. Make-up was a luxury and not something I particularly wanted to be seen with. I checked my dark brown hair, brushing it back to let it fall against my shoulders, and the lashes that framed my light brown eyes. I put a dash of the foundation on my cheeks before stashing everything back in the bag, and spotted yet another guy leering at me. His eyes obviously wandered over my curvaceous body, staring into the depth of my cleavage. He looked like he might come over, I hoped he wouldn't. It was the end of the world and the last thing I needed was to have to reject another lecherous man. Again, my thoughts wandered to my parents, praying they were ok and wishing they were with me, wishing he were with me...
I should probably mention how it all began. We should have really seen it coming, with all the media on the subject that's out there, why weren't we more prepared?
It initiated in rural areas in Africa. A drug that was meant to cure Malaria backfired, or so the news told us. People became infected with an uncontrollable virus, the death toll was phenomenal, a devastating tragedy. Then the true horror started. The dead came back to life and infected the living, biting and clawing hungrily for their flesh. People fled the country before the quarantine fully came into effect, travelling all over the world, carriers of the disease. Apparently a scratch isn't immediately fatal, and the plagued people managed to get to a multitude of different countries before succumbing.
Country alliances broke down as governments focused on protecting their own nations, but it was all in vain as the epidemic overcame the population. Television and radio stopped soon after that, but the Internet reported the scale of the disaster. Armed shelters were installed and citizens evacuated to them with moderate success. That's where I was, in Greenville, South Carolina, with a horde of the undead on the doorstep, kept back by America's finest men and women.
I glanced into my bag to check the other thing I didn't want people to see. My Glock .22 was still safely stored away. It was a present from my Father, he's a cop and he taught me everything I needed to know about how to use it.
Night fell on the sixth day in the shelter and I drifted off to a fitful sleep wondering just how long we could keep this up. It was still dark when I awoke, my skin felt clammy and hot as if I'd been having a nightmare but I couldn't remember it. At a guess I would have said it was early hours in the morning, everyone was still asleep or at least trying to doze.
I gathered up my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and made my way over the bodies of people to a door that lead out onto one of the balconies. It was lined with bored army guys, resting their rifles on the ledge, looking out over the horde of moaning zombies. The sight of such abject horror and death is an image that will stay with me for the rest of my life.
The army guys didn't take much notice of me as I stood to one side leaning against the railing. Lost in thought, I didn't see someone had joined me till he cleared his throat. I glanced at him, he had buzz cut hair, and camouflage overalls. Not that he could do much hiding but I guess it defined him as a member of the military. It was a while before he actually spoke.
"You shouldn't stay out here too long. The noise coming from that lot can do weird things to your mind..."
I nodded, keeping my expression straight. "I can take care of myself." The man had obviously not expected such a blunt reply, and became silent again. I relented a little, "Looks just like the movies." I tried to sound casual. "Someone should film this in case the world gets put back together, could make a small fortune."
The man chuckled, and shook his head. "The world won't be the same after this; no-one will give a rat's ass about movies for a long, long time." He looked across at me, trying to discreetly check me out. I could see his eyes lingering on certain areas of my body. He moved a little closer. "My name's Michael by the way." He said softly.
Perhaps he thought a girl like me would melt for a man in uniform, especially in these circumstances. It was time to put my game-face back on. Our eyes met as I wanted to gauge his reaction to my next question, "So tell me, do we have our collective asses to the wall or do you guys have a backup plan if this all goes to shit?"
Ok it was quite aggressive I'll admit, and he certainly wasn't expecting it from someone like me. Bless him; he looked a little crestfallen as if I'd dashed his hopes of something interesting and magical happening between us. Then his expression hardened and he turned away to look out at the zombies once more.
"I think you should go back inside now ma'am. If the time comes, then we'll evacuate everyone out through an underground network that comes out a couple miles from here in the centre of the town."
I examined the would-be hero and the hard barrier I was trying to put up cracked a little. My heart wasn't made of stone after all. Nodding slowly, I flashed him a grateful smile and turned away from the railing. "Good luck." I said quietly, walking towards the door back to the hall.
So, underground network? Sounded more like a death trap for anyone who wasn't at the front of the queue, and that wouldn't be me. I planned to be one of the first through them and with no-one to hold me back, no-one to lose; I could take off at the first sign of danger and never look back.
It was actually evening on the seventh day that someone became too careless. He was young, boisterous and foolhardy. If you're ever in a zombie apocalypse I give you one piece of advice, don't taunt the zombies. I can't tell you exactly what happened as I was in my new position, directly opposite the stairs leading to the basement and the entrance to the underground tunnels, but I heard the screams, and the gunfire.
I strained to listen to the commands that were being shouted above the rising noise. Suddenly the front doors opened with a crash, and we all caught a glimpse of the mayhem that was the military's front line. A man fell inside to the gasping of the crowd, screaming and covered in blood. A second, armed man ran inside, took aim and fired a single shot to the bloody man's head before returning outside. It happened so fast it just about stunned everyone.
Michael came rushing down the stairs ordering everyone into the basement and as planned, I found myself at the front of the queue. The tunnel was essentially a long corridor, lit only by some grubby hanging lamps. The crowd started to run, those behind pushing those in front, fleeing the terror behind us into the unknown before us. I saw a few people trip, but there was no helping them as they were swallowed by the fearful people.
How long could they be held off for? How many people managed to get out? Were the undead right behind us? There was no way to know and nothing to do but just to keep running, never stopping...
I emerged from the tunnel out into the open, a terrifying prospect. It was dark and disorientating, but I had to move forward, had to keep going. More and more people were coming up behind me, pushing me out into the street. I drew out my gun, slotting a round into the chamber and grasping the grip tightly.
The moaning gave them away; silhouetted in the dark, about a dozen loping figures rounded the corner from the direction of the shelter. People screamed, I think even I let out a little scream as I fled, bolting down the street. Round a corner I found one of those things already feasting on a freshly caught man. I skidded to a halt, took one look and ran in a different direction. There had to be a safe place, one of the buildings perhaps? But which one?
The streets were becoming more and more crowded, and that attracted even more zombies. I knew I couldn't run forever, I had to hide. I figured if I was on my own then the zombies would be drawn off by the larger number of humans, giving me a chance to escape. Clutching my gun, I picked somewhere at random. I was on a boulevard of shops, but the darkness made it impossible to see the wares. I picked one that had the smallest amount of windows and tried the door. Locked! Of course!
I really didn't want to fire a shot; it would just alert everyone around, but I just didn't see any other option. I aimed and squeezed the trigger. I swear it echoed for miles, but I prayed the gunfire from the shelter would be more attractive than a single shot in the middle of the city. And if it wasn't, maybe being really quiet and hiding would be enough. The lock was minced, and the door swung open. I held my breath as I stepped inside, listening intently. The room beyond was pitch black. The only sound came from my beating heart pounding in my chest. I pushed the door closed behind me, putting my back to it and just stared into the darkness of the room.
Zander always talked about how prepared he'd be, what his plans were if it ever really happened. After every episode of The Walking Dead, he'd come online and we'd talk about what the characters did wrong or how accurate everything was.
I remember everything he told me about his story, how he lost his mother to the first wave and after that his Father fell apart. As a nurse she was in the hospital when the infection broke out, and only just managed to get home before she turned. His Father put her down himself, but the pain and loss crippled him.
Zander spent the first few days living at home, executing his plan precisely. The stairs were destroyed so he could live upstairs in peace, but with no hope of rescue and his Father finally passing away, there was nothing left for him there.
He was never one to be alone though, he could never leave his friends behind no matter what. His journey took him across England, searching for them, driven by his dedication and protected by his knowledge of watching every zombie movie Hollywood has ever produced. In the trunk of his battered Ford Fiesta he carried crates of tinned food and jerry cans full of fuel. One by one, he visited his many friends across the counties of England, tackling dangerous cities full of the wandering deceased, all in the name of his heroic quest to save as many people he knew as possible...
The problem was, no matter how good Zander's intentions were, he couldn't save everyone. If you want to survive, you can't be the hero all the time, and if someone fell behind... Well, it doesn't need to be said. To survive you need to steel your heart, and Zander did just that.
I stayed locked in that position for what must have been hours. Occasionally through the night I heard footsteps outside, some running, and some shuffling but nothing had disturbed the door, and there still weren't any sounds from inside. As light started to filter through the window, I almost leapt out of my skin at the sight of a silhouette. It wasn't moving though, a mannequin, frozen in place to display ... lingerie?
The more the sun came up, the more I could see. I almost burst out laughing as I saw what shop I'd taken refuge in. The shelves were lined with exotic sex toys of every colour and design. Racks of underwear were dotted around the shop floor as well as stands of lubes, licks, jellies, and other edibles.
I finally felt brave enough to step away from the door, feeling every muscle complain after my long stint braced against it. The door was loose since I'd blown out the mechanism, something I'd have to fix sooner rather than later.
I stepped warily across the shop floor, examining the weird and wonderful devices on the shelves. I would explore some more a bit later, first I needed to secure the building. I checked behind every stand and behind the counter as I made my way towards the door at the back. I nudged it with my foot, peering round the corner to see some stairs.
Silently I ascended, holding the gun tightly, my knuckles almost turning white. I searched each room in turn, finding it completely empty. The owners must have been evacuated long ago. The bedroom was amazingly decorated, deep reds and lush silk hangings, with a large comfy four poster bed. The bathroom was lavish; a massive bathtub dominated the room complete with bubble jets, it almost felt royal. In the kitchen things were more disappointing, with only a half stocked larder. Still it'd be enough for a while, and the water was still running. Finally there was a small study, with a laptop sitting neatly on the desk.
It was time to go to work; the doors and windows needed to be boarded up and the electricity needed to be tested. The laptop would hopefully be working, maybe the internet was still up and I could find out what's going on in the rest of the world.
I put together a simple barricade and covered the windows. It was crude, but it'd slow anything down a bit to give me a chance to escape. Fingers crossed it'd also mask the smell of fresh meat from anything outside. With a sigh, I slumped down on the bed. I could have fallen asleep right there but I forced myself to strip my clothes off. I piled the simple white blouse and blue jeans by the bed and crawled beneath the sheets, still in my black bra and panties. The bed felt amazing, and I fell asleep faster than I had in ages.
A new day, and task number one was the laptop. Immediately upon turning it on I was bombarded with various erotic and pornographic images. Girls bent forwards over tables and counters, their fake breasts pressed against the surfaces as they took large shafts in their hot wet folds. Captivated, I flicked through them, even recognising some of the actors.
Curiously I opened the 'My Pictures' folder and found some more amateur photos. Examining them, I noticed that the settings were the bedroom and the bathroom here in the shop as well as a room I didn't recognise. The couple must be the owners. The man was rather thin and slightly toned; his hair was almost as long as the woman's. His one good feature was his massive penis, standing full and erect. The woman, however, was gorgeous; her blonde hair fell softly down her back, her breasts were large and yet looked quite real. Reluctantly I closed the photos down, wondering where they were now.
A quick browse on the internet showed that there were a lot of servers down; however there were a few still operational. The world was broken; no-where was really safe. I spent hours just surfing, desperate for any knowledge, but didn't find anything worthwhile. I closed the lid and sighed to myself.
Wandering downstairs, I walked out amongst the rails of clothing. Everything was lace, or satin or something similar. I picked a couple of items out with a soft smile, and took them into the changing room. I don't quite know why but it just seemed appropriate.
I slipped out of my clothes and examined what I'd chosen: various corsets that pushed my breasts up and together in very flattering ways, light and floaty baby dolls in different hues, matching thongs and some stockings. I paraded around in them until I picked a favourite outfit. A red and black baby doll, it's gauze like material cut up the centre and billowed around, and a small black lacy thong. Dark stockings covered my long legs completing the look.
I sauntered around the shop in my sexy outfit, examining the shelves and giggling to myself at the more adventurous toys. I selected a few, grinning all the way as I skipped upstairs to the bedroom and closed the door behind me. It felt so naughty; my hands shook as I ripped open the packaging of my selections and slunk onto the bed.
I ran my hand across the fabric covering my chest, loving the reaction as it rubbed against my sensitive nipples. I squeezed and teased myself through the material, moving my hands over my body and stroking my skin where the silk fell away. I quickly leant forward and removed the baby doll, tossing it the floor, allowing me to squeeze and pinch my full 36D breasts. I bit my lower lip and closed my eyes. I could feel myself getting wetter, I wouldn't be able to resist for long.
My hand travelled down my body, and I gasped as I felt my sodden mound through the thong. It was indeed very wet, soaking the material as I ground my hips against my hand. My legs were shivering uncontrollably; I couldn't sit still as I slipped my hand under the fabric. It was like I'd been electrocuted. I let out a little whimper as I stroked myself with my index finger, teasing myself a little more, my other hand continuing to play with my nipples.
I circled my clit, making myself gasp as I stimulated it, rolling over the little nub with the tips of my digits, sending little shivers up my spine. I dipped my hand back down, feeling my soft petals and coating my fingers with my arousal. Smiling to myself again, I lifted up my legs and slid the soaked underwear off, revealing my pink nethers. Some light brown chestnut hair showed evidence of the fact I'd been away from home for too long. I'd have to deal with that soon.
With the removal of all items of clothing, except the stockings which felt too good so I left them on, I was now able to easily rub my aching folds. God I needed it so bad. My legs, bent at the knee, formed a V-shape as I licked my fingers and began to slide them up and down my lips, pausing at the top to rub my hardening clit. My breathing deepened and I released quiet moans of ecstasy.
The moans got louder as I delved my fingers inside my dripping pussy, working a couple fingers in and out as my other hand roamed and caressed my body before moving down to rub at my clit in addition to pumping my fingers back and forth. Slowly I took my hand away, and focused just on my clit, rolling around on the bed as I flicked and stroked it faster and faster.