Zombie Sex

Can you get STD's from a zombie? That's just about my only remaining question now that I am on the receiving end of sexual intercourse--sometimes unprotected, I must confess--with the two beta zombies, both male, living in my basement.

As I'm sure everyone knows, following the outbreak of the socalled Z-H224-A virus just over a year ago, a virus that infected hundreds of thousands and turned them into roaming, homeless, often murderous zombies, the latter have been classified into two groups. Alpha zombies are the murderous, cannibalizing ones that have struck fear into an entire nation (and Canada), zombies that must be destroyed on sight and their bodies burned. A second category, beta zombies, though infected with the same virus as alphas, have somehow managed to stave off, perhaps via stronger immune systems (the reason remains a medical mystery), the worst ravages of the disease and are relatively harmless, and sociable. A beta zombie might run after you and bite you, but cannibalization is usually not in the equation.

Beta zombies have been rounded up by the tens of thousands and dispatched to various "contamination camps" around the country, where they receive various experimental treatments in the hope their lives can be saved. Of course, some progress to full alpha zombie stage and must be destroyed, and burned. It's a nightmare situation for everyone involved. Especially the zombies.

While it is a federal crime to hide, house or protect a beta zombie from the authorities, it is common knowledge that many, like myself, for various reasons, usually humanitarian, have. The Supreme Court has recently agreed to hear a case regarding whether hiding a beta zombie from authorities actually constitutes a "federal crime." The Supremes will consider the case following their Indian summer recess.

As for my two horny beta zombies, I discovered them in my livingroom eating snacks and watching shemale porn on my flatscreen one late afternoon, after work. They'd broken in through the back door (they claimed it was open). Upon discovering them I considered my options: run upstairs and get my Sig Sauer...or punch 911 into my smart phone.

In a panic, I did the latter. At which point two zombies fell to their knees and began clawing at my pantslegs, begging for mercy. Their words were garbled but from what I could tell they were saying--claiming--no beta zombie who ever enters one of the government "contamination camps" ever leaves it alive. That was the rumor among zombies, I guessed. One of the zombie intruders--I now call him Tom--got up off his knees and ran to the kitchen counter where a hardcopy of the New York Times lay. He shook it in my face as if to say: Are you not a liberal? A humanitarian? Have you no shame? Sir?

I sighed. I agreed the two of them could stay in my basement while I thought the situation through. That was six months ago.

However, I admit, good liberal that I am, I did tuck my nine millimeter Sig into the waistband of my pantyhose. And yes, I AM a crossdresser.

I feed my resident zombies, christened Tom and Jerry (Jerry is the taller one, with the bigger cock), Walmart-brand dog food which I buy in bulk. They love it! Dog food twice a day, laced with heavy-dose antibiotics I bribe my pharmacist, Zaid, to supply, and lots of fresh water. Because they're zombies, or half-zombies, they're perfectly happy sitting in second-hand Lazy-boys watching TV all day. Or hard-core porn. And because they're zombies, stoked by all those antibiotics, they seem to have an endless store of greenish semen to shoot. This I've come to know all too well.

They're messy--but no more so than a couple of college kids. I've had to re-toilet train them but they do a pretty good job. Three times a week I descend the basement stairs in my padded bra, matching panties, pantyhose and half-heel slings to clean the place up. I wash their dog bowls out (I used to take in stray dogs, now I take in stray zombies!) tidy up the place then go to the bathroom, get on my stockinged knees and scrub the toilet. They stand over me and watch as I do this, breathing heavily and grunting like cavemen.

"Maybe you guys could be a little more careful where you piss and shit. And shoot your green cum. You think?" It's like talking to a couple of rescued dogs. Hopeless.

Early on, after my "rescue," I was leaving the basement bathroom, cleaning products in hand, when Jerry put his decaying paws on my hips, from behind, pressed his beer-can-sized cock against my pantied crack, and made a fucking motion. Like a horny dog.

"Wait," I said. Then I ran upstairs to my bedroom, traded in the Sig for Magnum condoms and some K-Y in my bedside drawer, and reentered the basement.

Dropping to my knees I first sucked Jerry's huge, greyish, zombie cock then rolled a condom down it and lubed it up. He took me from behind, on my hands and knees, yanking my pantyhose and panties down with such aggressive force it made me wonder: Sex first? Then murder? Then a meal?

But at least he had enough animal instinct left to know where to find a hole, which he plowed into, painfully at first, before quickly, prematurely filling condom's receptacle end with loads of his greenish cum.

Meanwhile "Tom" stood over us watching. Waiting. Wanting. After Jerry finished I condomed him and he took his turn. He was smaller, thinner, but only relatively so. And he had more stamina. He fucked me for twenty minutes before, with a crescendo of animal grunts, he emptied his load into the condom in my ass.

I was so thrilled--with my horny gay zombie tops--I went to the store and bought a carton of those frou-frou cans of dog food. The tiny ones with the picture of the Westie on the front. They lapped it up, right out of the can. Tom cut his tongue and blackish blood ran down his chin. He grinned. I went and got a bandaid.

I ascended the basement stairs and locked the door. I had a captive pair of horny tops (albeit zombies) in my basement. I was in bottom's heaven!

It has continued like this ever since. Typically Tom fucks me first (because he is smaller) while I suck Jerry's enormous dick. Then they switch off. Occasionally things get confused and a bare cock enters by ass. It's hard to keep track. Or to keep them in line. Even zombies hate condoms. And then once one zombie cums in me the other wants to. (They're incredibly jealous of each other!)

So I'll look around and say, "Christ! Did you cum in me?"

And all the zombies do is grin their largely toothless grins. Like a couple of cast members from the movie 'Deliverance.'

More on zombie cum. Or at least MY zombies' cum. It's unbelievably copious. Instead of a spoonful or two we're talking more like a syringeful! It's as if their big, gray, swollen testicles are working overtime to produce jism. As I said, I tend to attribute this to all the antibiotics. Although maybe it's the dogfood.

In addition to being green, or green-ISH, their cum is also exceptionally thick. And somewhat lumpy. It's almost like cottage cheese that has been injected with a green dye. And there's so much of it being pumped into my dilated hole that, after the one zombie finishes and the other takes his place, he's not only pumping his big cock IN me, he's pumping the other zombie's semen OUT of me.

Call it Sloppy Seconds I guess. As I'm being fucked I can feel the exiting cum running from my hole down my balls and dripping to the floor. After they're both done with me the size of the wet spot on the second-hand mattresses I've thrown down for them is enormous. The rough diameter, say, of a large birdbath. Which incidentally I use for their water bowl.

On many occasions, recently, I've ascended the basement stairs holding a cleaning cloth between my butt-cheeks, to catch the seemingly endless outflow. Then it's off to bathroom for a hot cleansing shower, or a self-satisfied, sore-assed jacuzzi.

I had bloodwork done recently and everything was normal. So it looks like my fears of zombie infection are so far unfounded. They say it takes a skin-puncturing bite. But then again "they" claimed the first victims of the zombie virus had the swine flu.

Speaking of bites. I had a dream a few weeks ago that I was sleeping on some kind of table and woke up (in the dream) to discover a zombie (not one of MY zombies I don't think) cannibalizing my testicles. He'd already ripped them from my scrotum with his sharp teeth. There was no pain but bright red blood was everywhere. And green cum. The zombie devouring my "manhood" lifted his head and looked at me with a kind of a grin--one that revealed my two little sac-less gray-blue testicles (they looked like oval eyeballs) between his teeth. He chomped down.

I woke up in a sweat. I was so shaken I called in sick to work the next day. And it was a while before I descended the basement stairs without the nine millimeter Sig tucked into the waist of my pantyhose. Then I reminded myself it was a dream, not an omen. (I hope.) And I've since lightened up. Besides, when we play "zombie rape" and one of them yanks my pantyhose down, the gun falls out. That could be dangerous.

My beta zombies aren't so far gone that they haven't retained some of the vocabulary from their former lives. Monosyllables. "Gun," instance. "Dick," is popular, as is the aforementioned "hole." "Maid," they call me when I'm down on my stockinged knees scrubbing their filthy toilet and the surrounding floor. "Girl," when they're fucking me. "Fag," ditto. And "siss," which I assume is short for sissy. As opposed to sister. "Slut" is another popular one. "Bit"--short for bitch? "Dog," when I put their food down. And when I get in receiving position on my hands and knees. "Pig," directed at me, while still in position, is another. This will give you a flavor of the kind of "conversations" my zombies and I have.

Tell me if this is a good idea. With Halloween right around the corner, I intend to let my zombies upstairs to hand out candy to the kids. I figure it's low risk--people, including any neighborhood snitches, will just assume they're friends of mine in costumes. I, of course, per usual for Halloween, will be in full drag. Blonde, shoulder-length wig I think, for this occasion. Or maybe the dyed-pink one. In addition to "manning" the blender, whipping up my famous papaya margaritas, I'll be keeping an especially close eye on the "boys." You know, in case they get to be just a little bit TOO scary. Or decide to wolf down the Halloween candy themselves, bags and all. Wrappers and all. I can hear myself now: "Hey, you two! That's for the kids!" Or, God forbid, if they decide to chase after one of the female children, dressed in her older sister's (or mother's) shopping-at-the-mall slut outfits. Or dressed as Tinkerbell. Since sex with a slut--or a fairy, or "fair" as they like to say--is pretty much all they've known these past six months.

"Hey, get back here! Leave that kid alone! And no biting!"

For you see, while living with zombies has its rewards, it also has its many challenges.

I'm hoping that after the doorbell has rung for the last time, and all the leftover candy has been devoured, and the blender drained of its last drop of tequila-laced papaya, we can retire to the basement (or perhaps, even, to my bedroom) for some post-Halloween zombie sex.

I'd like to do something different for the special occasion. Instead of cuming in my over-burdened hole, I'd like them, perhaps both at the same time, to jack their big gray zombie cocks on my face. I'd like to watch their thick, clotty loads shooting out. Like to feel it hitting my face. My eyelids. My cheeks. My open mouth. I'd like to taste it, to swallow it.

I'd like to feel it running slowly down my face and dripping from my chin onto my chest, my falsy-filled bra. I'd like to watch thick green puddles of it form.

I'd like to be drenched in it.

The trick...the trick will be successfully communicating to the zombies what I have in mind. I'll be like a porn director attempting to communicate to actors who speak a different language. Since they're used to gaining entry to my cumhole by yanking my panties down should I--maybe? you think?--trick them by pulling a pair of panties ass-first over my head?

Trick AND treat!