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.