Zombie Chicks are Hot

Every morning at 8:30 sharp she'd be there. Drooling and pressing her naked body against the sliding glass door to the back yard. No moaning of "Brains, brains...." Just pressing her double D melons against the glass and drooling till I let her in. Then a bee line for the bedroom where she'd fuck me dry.

Ever since the zombie apocalypse, things had been pretty fucked up. I was used to holing up in the house alone with a dwindling supply of shotgun shells. Foraging the neighborhood for canned goods when the coast was clear. But ever since she'd showed up the undead traffic had dropped significantly. I didn't really want to figure it out. It wasn't like I had much of a social life anymore. Not that I ever had.

She must have been super-hot, before she turned. Even undead, she still got me stoked every morning, and I'd let her in, we'd fuck like animals, and then she'd leave. After a while, the green skin sloughing off in my hand, and the rancid smell of rotting flesh kinda paled in comparison with how horny I got for her. I think she felt the same. In fact, I knew she did.

Long hair that came out in clumps if I ran my fingers through it. I just learned not to. She would come in and push me down on the bed. Mount me and ride until I spunked inside of her. I admit. It wasn't my ideal scenario. But I was hella horny these days. And even in her state of decay, she was by far the hottest chick than I'd ever managed to bang.

So, every day at 8:30, I would let her in. And we would fuck. Epic fucking, like there were no consequences to fucking a zombie chick. And then she would shamble off to do whatever zombie things she had to do that day.

I'll admit to a delicate mental state at that time. Watching your entire nuclear family literally ingested by a ravenous horde of undead is not an experience I'd recommend to anyone. But she was different. And her boobs were to undie for. Figuratively speaking... And if she needed them played with, by god, I was going in. Full force.

It was the morning that I woke up and she was beside me in the bed that was a game changer.

I awoke to the smell of rotting garbage, but it turned out that that was just her junk.

Visually (once you got used to the green tinge) she was beautiful. But her cooter reeked of weeks long failure to remove refuse. I got used to it. She would moan when I played with it.

Well actually, she would always moan. It was pretty much her go-to noise; pretty much all she did. But it started to be a more nuanced form of communication for me. Her moaning might mean "do that more". Or it might mean "do that more." Or simply "do that more." I figured it out after a while.

But it just seemed like she was around more and more often. One day she pushed what had once been a flower into my hand, crushed into a ball.

"Aigggnh." She groaned at me.

"Thank you?" I replied.

"Aigggnh!" She repeated.

"Um... I love you too?" I offered.

Bingo! Hit the nail on the head with that one! She grabbed my hand and dragged me into the bedroom where she rode my cock until I nutted in her hole.

The changes were small at first. Her being around a lot meant a much larger window of opportunity for us to fuck. So, we did exactly that. And at first, I figured that I was just getting used to her...condition. But after a while it seemed her skin wasn't quite sloughing off as much, and her hair seemed to be filling back in.

"Aiggggnh...Joe" She managed after one particularly hot session.

"I love you too. Zombie chick." I returned, surprised that she knew my name. Made me feel kinda bad that I didn't know hers. The funny thing is that I was starting to mean the L thing when I said it.

Where she went when she shambled off, I didn't really know. I assumed maybe she was off hanging out with her zombie friends, comparing zombie notes about their boyfriends. She was never gone long though, and generally would want to get railed as soon as she shambled on home.

Once you got past the smell and the hair, her pussy was amazing, and when she came, she moaned and grunted like a stuck pig. Somehow it was sexy as hell. At least I thought so. And as the weeks went by and she was around more and more we'd go at it constantly. I mean it wasn't like we had to go to work or anything.

By now she was mostly living with me, and that's when I started to put two and two together. The more I jizzed in her cooter, the less zombie like she was becoming. Her skin, while still off tone, looked more normal, less blotchy. Her hair seemed to be regaining a more human luster, and wasn't falling out.

I even managed to get her into the shower on a regular basis. At first, she had struggled a bit, but relented as she seemed to like how it felt as I soaped her down. I even considered trying to shave her armpit hair, but had to admit I'd become quite fond of the look. It just worked with her.

Every night after we made love for the final time that day, just before I'd turn out the lights, she'd look at me with soft eyes and say. "Aiggggnh, Joe". And I'd tell her I loved her too. We even began to kiss, which was new. Generally, from the start she'd just wanted to ride my johnson and make me blow my load, but now we seemed to be taking our time with it more and more. That's when she took it to the next stage.

One day, she took my hand and said "Aiiiiii, Joe", and headed for the door. She had been losing her shamble over the past few weeks, and now walked with a sexy sway, her perfectly proportioned ass was mesmerizing and I was gonna follow it through the gates of hell. Still eschewing clothes, I didn't mind at all, preferring her naked. I grabbed the shotgun on the way out the door, and she led me down the street in the direction she usually came from.

We'd walked for about a mile and a half when we arrived in front of a once quaint but now decaying brownstone apartment building. Hell, everything was in some stage of decay these days. Leading me inside we climbed the stairs to the 7^th floor. At the end of the hallway she entered a doorway. Apartment 7C. By the door there was a metal mailbox. The name Sondra Jorgensen was on the lid. She led me inside.

It was a cozy apartment. A walk-in kitchenette with an adjacent living room. On the wall was a photo of three women. One of them was Zombie Chick. She pointed to some old bills on a writing desk. Sondra Jorgensen. "Miiiii...Joe" she said. She led me through another door into a bedroom. Where she started taking my clothes off. She pushed me onto her bed and lowered her wet pussy onto my throbbing cock.

"Aigggnh you, Joe." She moaned as she came on me bouncing so hard I had to grab her tits which were flopping wildly.

"I love you too, Sondra." I said and she moaned and came again in response to hearing her name out loud. It was one of the wildest fucks we'd ever had and soon I busted a huge nut, filling her womb with my seed. And we did a repeat about an hour later.

I grabbed the picture as we left that afternoon, knowing just where I'd hang it when we got home. I knew this would be the first of several trips, but the intent was clear. Sondra was moving in with me full-time.

As our frequency of fucking remained unabated. Gradually she began to regain her powers of speech. It was clear that something in my sperm was attacking or countering the effects of the virus in her system. So as long as we kept up fucking as often as possible, she'd continue to improve. I suspected, correctly it seems, that it would not entirely eradicate the condition, we both knew it, and thus felt committed to each other as a result.

Her voice never lost that low zombie growl, which was okay. Although she would at times stammer her way though her sentences, mostly I thought it gave her a low sultry tone. We also discovered over time that it didn't matter how the sperm was ingested, her body appeared to absorb it equally well. That meant that she quickly became my three-hole slut, loving it every way I could think of to bring it.

One of my favorite side effects of her condition, was that zombies are naturally good at deep throating. Absolutely no gag reflex, meat slid right in. Which meant she could effortlessly swallow the entire length of my trouser snake until her nose was pressing against my pubes, and I'd direct-deposit into her stomach.

We were near the center of town, where there were a few big box stores we were intent on plundering. Entering the semi dark building shotgun at the ready and our backpacks empty. I started into the store only to stop dead at a sound from up ahead.

I signaled Sondra to be quiet and shut off my flashlight when I saw the movement up ahead. Squinting my eyes, I could see two figures approaching. They were walking, not shambling, and one of them I recognized as a former work mate. In tow behind him was a gorgeous black-haired beauty completely naked.

"Marcus! You dog! Where'd you find the hottie?" I grinned.

"Joe, My man. I see you got yourself one too!" Marcus observed. "She kinda found her way into my house one day. Was really rough, at first. Went straight for my cock. Musta liked what I was bringin' cos she's been with me ever since."

"H...haii" She said.

"Hi, nice to meet you. This here's Sondra." I replied.

"Son..da" She repeated.

"Nice to meet you...Marcus." Sondra managed.

"Hey, she talks good." Marcus grinned.

"Gets better all the time. We work pretty hard on it." I explained. "What's her name?"

"No idea. I just call her Spot. I'm hoping she remembers at some point. Don't think she's from here. Or maybe her home burnt. Things were really crazy those first couple months...Remember?" Marcus said.

"They certainly were. I don't think there are many of us left." I said. "So, where you living?"

"I got me a fine crib, out by the park in the North end. You?" Marcus asked.

"Same as always." I replied.

"We ought to get together sometime, man!" Marcus offered.

"Sounds like fun." I agreed. "Stay in touch, dude."

The store turned out to be a veritable trove of supplies, and with our backpacks full of booty we headed home. As soon as we'd set down the backpacks, I knew what Sondra was going to want. She hadn't hesitated a second before she had my pants on the floor and was fairly dragging me to the bedroom, pulling me to her, we fucked well into the evening.

"I love you, Joe." Sondra said.

"I love you too, Sondra." I replied as always.

"Marcus seemed nice." She added. "When he comes here with Spot. I fuck him too? I watch you fuck Spot? Yes?"

I was instantly hard again, knowing Marcus would jump at the chance. I'd seen that look in his eye, when he first saw Sondra's melons.

A few days later we made it happen. Sondra looked like the pinnacle of zombie beauty as Marcus dropped a huge load inside her. And Spot was a veritable whirlwind of insatiable passion, her pussy virtually milking the sperm out of me. They stayed on for three days, and it was a sexual tag team match for the duration. Leaving only when we were all walking funny from the constant sex.

Funny, but after a couple of years the hordes had moved on or died out. It was hard to tell which. I was right, there weren't many of us left. Not even for food, so I guessed that it was for a little of both reasons. But by the time Sondra and My fifth anniversary rolled around, infected had become a rare sight.

One other effect of the remission of the virus was that Sondra, and eventually Eva (though we still called her Spot because she liked it), re-established their menstrual cycles. Our visits back and forth with Marcus and She were frequent and invariably sexually charged, and we didn't even try to keep track of who was getting who knocked up. The kids were invariably normal when born, even having a natural immunity to the virus. And they came like clockwork.

Because after all, the sex was indeed fun, but as I pointed out to Marcus as I was shooting my seed into his woman's quim. We were saving Mankind... One Orgasm at a Time.