Synopsis: A zombie outbreak, a chance encounter, a twist of fate, a reconnection. Two estranged lovers Emma and Simon are brought back together in the most unlikely circumstances as they navigate the new world and old feelings. One night may complicate things more than they already are… especially since one of them isn’t entirely human anymore.

***

Chaos. Chaos everywhere.

Emma had been on the run for months now, an endless, never stopping scramble as hordes of the undead nipped away at her heels at every turn. It wasn’t easy always having to look over her shoulder, wondering when she was going to get ambushed again or if she’d get overrun and she’d have to make her final stand in a blaze of glory. Something like that isn’t supposed to become normal, but after living in hell long enough you can kind of get used to it… Kind of.

That first month was the hardest for her since she had been completely on her own, abandoned in the chaos and confusion of that first wave as the entire world fell apart and she’d gotten separated from everyone that she knew. Hiding in unsavory places, scavenging for food like some kind of rat, it was torture. But then Emma just so happened to come across someone she never thought she’d see again, especially in the midst of all that chaos: a man that she knew by the name of Simon.

Out of everyone that she could have run into, why him? Both of them had a deep history together of an off and on again relationship, torn apart and brought together at random points in their lives, yet whenever they were together there existed an insatiable need between them that made them always give in to their carnal desires. Though it had been several months even before everything went to shit that they had seen one another, now they were both thrust together once again, only this time there were bigger things at stake other than if they’d get caught fooling around behind the local bar that Emma used to work in.

Emma found Simon holed up all alone in the basement of an abandoned house tucked away in a quiet suburb a couple towns over from where she had started out. Unfortunately, there would be no semi-sweet reunion with a familiar face because what Emma stumbled onto was no short of a nightmare. There he lay at the back of the basement, shadowed in the dark; he had been bitten. His jaw was broken by what looked like his own hand so that he couldn’t do harm once the infection had taken him.

She didn’t leave though, didn’t immediately use her gun, because there was something different about him. Simon wasn’t like the droves of mindless walking corpses, he was something entirely different now. Still partially alive, not yet fully dead, or something else entirely? Emma didn’t know, but he recognized her; he was still in there and she could not just leave him.

And so the pair set out together, uncertain of anything other than the fact that at least they wouldn’t be alone again.

For over a year, they traveled together side by side. It was strange for Emma, being with her ex lover again after all that time. Even though she wasn’t sure what Simon was anymore, essentially he was still himself, though he had been mutated by the virus. His skin was pale and cold, though he hadn’t started decaying yet, his eyes were no longer that beautiful shade of rich brown, but now had turned a milky white, he had an unnatural strength to him now that mixed with his already hulking size made him a force to be reckoned with, and he no longer breathed, but he had kept his humanity and an ability to communicate even if it wasn’t through speech.

“Can’t have everything,” she would joke and he would laugh in that deep, bassy pitch that she remembered.

Honestly he wasn’t a terrible companion, though a bit of conversation would have been nice. Still, having him with her had its perks. Being one amongst the walking corpses had great benefits and Simon used them to their full capability to keep her safe so that after a time, even though the world still sat in ruin, the two of them were not doing too bad. At least they were able to stay in place for more than a few days.

That’s where the pair find themselves now, shacked up in a small two story cottage they had found once they crossed over into Wyoming; it looked as if it had been left untouched and secluded in the middle of the woods. The place is quaint, in not too bad of shape, and had come with a pantry filled with a good supply of canned goods; an oasis away from the chaos.

Apart from a few stray corpses stumbling through the grounds every now and again, there isn’t much action, at least nothing that Simon can’t handle alone. That anxiety riddled tension that Emma had held in her chest for over a year began to ease and with that came old stirrings that she hadn’t felt since before the world collapsed.

It is tame at first, just an old familiar ache brought on by being near someone who she had always shared such an intense attraction to, but with so much more time on her hands now that ignorable ache has now grown into a desperate yearning and it is becoming a problem.

The thing is, adrenalin has a funny way of fucking with the head: heightening the senses, making the pulse race, everything feels so much more intense. She is only human, one who still has needs which had not been met in so fucking long that she couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be touched by another and so having her blood always rushing and her skin tingling, how can she stop herself from giving into that most basic of temptations now that a bit of normalcy has been achieved?

It’s damn a shame that he isn’t an option now, she thinks to herself. She would have liked to have him one more time as the world burned, but there is no way now… right? The infection has probably taken care of all of that.

So, instead, tonight after the perimeter has been secured and the doors re-bolted, the windows rechecked and the traps restrung, that ache reaches its peak and Emma has to do something before she gets sloppy and makes them both unsafe. Can’t effectively stay on your toes when you want your hands in your slit all the time, can you?

Sneaking off to the bedroom upstairs towards the back of the floor that she has claimed for herself, she allows that overwhelming need to finally overtake her. It’s fine, she deserves this, she tells herself. Leaving the door slightly ajar so that she can still stay on alert, she lays down on the cushioned surface of the mattress, her pulse starting to race in her chest at the prospect of being able to feel normal again.

She makes quick work of her ripped jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper only enough so that she can access the throbbing between her thighs. Clamping her mouth shut in an effort to keep quiet she slides her hand down the front of her body, over her tender lower abdomen into her panties, all the way down until she reaches the lips of her sex.

A whimper fills her mouth that she chokes back down; the last thing she needs is to alert a horde with her desperate cries as she works herself until she can finally cum. It may have been a while, but she gets right back into the swing of things and extending her middle finger she splits herself open to find her clit, another whimper rising in her throat as she makes the connection and begins to draw tight circles around the bundle of nerves.

It is hard not to get worked up so fast as that remembered pleasure fills Emma’s mind and snakes its way through her warm limbs to make her body feel like it’s vibrating. Minutes pass in that blissful state and the more she works herself the more she begins to fantasize to heighten the pleasure. Her thoughts conjure up the memory of a particular time when she and Simon had spent an entire weekend in bed, naked and tangled together, exchanging sexual favors for trips to grab food or other essentials. The only time they left the sanctuary of the mattress was to shower and even then they couldn’t stay off one another.

Emma embraces the memory fully, longing for the days when she and Simon could still give in to all that desire and before she realizes it she has flipped herself onto her stomach and then onto her knees to ride her fingers, her hips grinding away as she imagines him beneath her. Fuck, the way he used to stare back up at her with those hungry chocolate eyes, hands greedily clinging around the muscle of her hips as he shoved her down harder onto his cock until he would inevitably flip her onto her back to pound into her with everything he had; it is a vision strong enough to make her wet with need in this moment, but still she desperately tries to keep quiet… yet she isn’t as sneaky as she thinks.

She has barely made a sound and yet one thing that she has forgotten in her self lust is that Simon is not the same man he was when he was alive. All of his senses are different now, enhanced like a wild animal’s by the infection. Downstairs, standing in the living room, staring blankly out the window on watch, something catches his preternatural attention.

The scent of pheromones is strong in the air now and it entices him forward to the upstairs. He follows the trail all the way to the back bedroom, your room. Slowly, silently, creeping towards the door, Simon peers unblinking through the crack left open to watch Emma up on her knees atop of her bed, her pants hanging slack around her hips while her ass points upwards facing him. That motion, he knows it; that back and forth sway of her hips over top of the bed.

There is another fragrance on the air now, something even more familiar. Taking a deep breath, he can smell the natural lubrication currently soaking her fingers and it awakes something deep within him like a fire in his chest akin to what an animal feels when it goes into heat. His slack mouth begins to unconsciously salivate as ingrained memories surface, flashes of remembered sensations from times when he too enjoyed such pleasures.

Inherent, primal, a reaction as innate as breathing.

It is at that moment that he becomes acutely aware of a tightness growing down below and instinctively he cups his hand around it, rubbing the growing bulge against his chilly palm in disbelief. Is he actually getting hard? That is surprising as anyone would have expected that to not happen anymore, but he has not had the time until now to explore all the facets of what his new form can actually do.

The more he rubs the more it grows until the front of his pants tent out near the zipper, straining so hard against the fabric that he wonders if he can pop the closure without even trying. God, it feels…amazing.

“Fuck, Simon.”

He hears the whispered hiss through the silence as Emma presses her body down harder onto the bed, onto her fingers, and it sends a shiver up his spine. The way she says his name like a plea in that way she used to beg him to fuck her, he hasn’t heard that in so long and it causes more memories to violently resurface.

Scattered and disjointed visions of her beneath him bursts into his mind’s eye, brought back to life by the sound of her voice: Emma writhing with eyes closed, her skin glistening with perspiration in the pale light of a dimly lit room, bare breasts bouncing up and down with each of his strong thrusts, crying his name into the silence as she cums.

If breathing was something he was still required to do, those lungs would be heaving right now from how worked up he feels. His hand grips tighter now around the head of his cock through his pants, stroking it as his unblinking gaze follows the curves of her back all the way down to her ass as it bobs up and down.

The pace of his hand quickens to match her rocking as if fucking her by proxy, stroking through his clothes while his sight stays transfixed. Goddamn he wishes he could remember the way she used to feel wrapped around him, but that sensation has been lost to time now. All he can do is watch and enjoy the way her body looks as her movements become more sloppy the more that warmth gathers in the pit of her stomach, that delicious heat that she had not felt in so long.

“Yes, yes,” she mewls under her breath while her thighs clench around her hand. She brings in another finger to join the first one and with both she slips them inside her dripping cunt; it is nothing like the way Simon used to fill her out, but it will have to do.

Bearing down hard while she keeps the pace steady, her breathing more erratic, she finally reaches the peak and spills violently over the edge, tumbling down as her body writhes and jerks through the overwhelming intensity of that first orgasm after so long. She clamps her mouth shut to stifle her cries as much as she can, but they still reach the unknown listener who is struggling to stop touching himself so that he can move quickly away from the door, not wanting to get caught peeping.

…and that leaves Simon very frustrated…

Emma falls onto the mattress, removing her fingers from her soaked pussy as she breathes out a sigh of contented relief. It wasn’t clear just how much she needed that until she came and fuck does she feel on cloud nine now. As she rolls over onto her back to stare up at the ceiling while she rides out the wave of her euphoric high, she swears she can hear a series of strange movement just outside the door; a soft few taps that sound like they’re getting farther away, but the house is old and so she convinces herself it’s nothing. Besides, if anything were to actually be wrong, Simon would have already alerted her.

Several minutes she just lays there in the silence before taking one last deep breath to calm herself as she gets up to straighten her clothing and re-button her pants, hoping that her self-pleasuring session has gone completely unnoticed to her companion as she heads back down stairs to double check that everything is still secure.

She finds Simon standing in his usual spot near the front door, watching out the window with that unblinking gaze, but as she steps into the living room his sight flits to her before popping back to the window.

“Hey,” Emma greets him, “everything still okay out there?”

The usual grunted reply is returned and she steps over to where he stands, just to take a look for herself. It doesn’t hurt to have another set of eyes to catch things and she feels more comfortable checking for herself anyway. Scanning the area outside she sees nothing out of place, but as she pulls back from the window she is met with those cold eyes fully on her.

Silently Simon’s large hand comes up to touch her cheek, rubbing his thumb across a certain flush pooling there that seems to draw his curiosity and he grunts with a nod of his head at it. Emma diverts her gaze, suddenly self-conscious about how warm they still are, like a fucking beacon calling attention to what it was she was doing upstairs; not that she cares, but shit she doesn’t want her business plastered all over her face.

“It’s nothing,” she reassures him with a chuckle. “Just got a bit warm I guess. I promise I’m not infected or anything like that.”

Fully expecting him to take her at her word she takes a step to move over to the sofa, exhausted and ready to relax, but his hand clings to the side of her face to keep her in place. She tilts her head as he shakes his own side to side slowly.

“What? Don’t believe me?” Emma picks playfully with a chuckle, masking how she is slightly concerned about this strange development; he hasn’t acted in such a way before and she worries for a moment that this might be a part of the infection that they haven’t experienced yet.

Again Simon shakes his head before his eyeline lowers down her body until his sight stops at the crotch of her pants. Shit, had he heard her? Maybe, but it’s far more likely that he can smell the trace amounts cum still clinging to her cunt. Whatever it is, the way his eyes keep drifting down to that spot before meeting hers again is enough to indicate that he is aware of what she had just done.

She clears her throat. “You know what I was doing, don’t you?” she asks bashfully and is met with a nod to the affirmative. Well, nothing to do about it now; what’s the point of denying it?

“Look, I just… needed something to take the edge off okay?” she spurts out. “I mean fuck, I still have needs, even if they had to be put on the back burner for a bit while the world went to shit. You of all people should know how I get sometimes. At least I was quiet enough not to cause problems for us.”

Simon stares back at her with those milky white eyes, but there is something behind them, something that she immediately recognizes, something… yearning. Suddenly she is aware that his other hand is on her hip now, tracing sloppy circles around the soft, warm skin just under the hem of her shirt.

Goddamn the familiarity of his fingers lingering over old paths they used to take in times almost forgotten sends her into a tailspin; if she closes her eyes, it’s like she is right back there with him again, like the last time they saw each other. Emma’s chest is tight with the increased thumping of her heartbeat in her throat, the air not quite filling up her lungs as he pulls her in a little closer to him until their bodies connect.

“I’ve…” she hesitates to say out loud the need in her, “I’ve missed this, I’ve missed you.. It’s been so long since we’ve been able to be close, like we used to. I thought we would have another chance before all this happened. God, I wish things were different…” It’s right at that moment she notices something poking against her thigh.

“Can you…?” she risks asking the question as it feels dumb to even think it; she must just be lost in the moment. No, there’s no way that he could still get hard, right? Right?

A large, cold hand wraps around her wrist and he brings her hand down to his crotch where he presses her palm against a bulge at the front of his pants. To her surprise it responds to her touch and her eyes shoot back up to his, her breath hitching as her mind reels.

“Fuck,” she murmurs and is promptly met with a grunt from him followed by a deep chuckle.

Perhaps it’s the history, the knowledge of what his body used to give her; perhaps it’s the need that she had not truly quenched fully yet; perhaps it’s her memories that she’d used as she touched herself; or maybe it’s as simple as she still wanted him even now; whatever the reason it doesn’t matter. All she knows is that she can’t stop herself from wanting more, even if she knows deep down that it’s not a good idea.

Hesitantly her fingers grasp at his shirt, slowly tugging at the seam as if to silently ask to be allowed to remove it. Never letting his gaze waiver, Simon raises his arms and she pulls it up and off over his head. His body is just as she remembers, though quite a bit more pale and the flesh discolored in places, but all the lines and bumps, scars and imperfections are the same and as she runs those delicate fingertips of hers over his skin it all comes flooding back.

“It’s been a while,” she says as she takes him all in. “God, you always did make my heart race just by taking off your shirt, you know.”

“Uhh,” he grunts in agreement.

The contrast in body temperature between the both of them is stark and he enjoys the warm, tingling feeling that her fingers leave behind wherever they go. He hasn’t felt such a phenomenon in so long that it’s like lightning striking inside as nerve endings reignite. The same goes for when she undoes his pants, letting them hang loosely around his hips as she runs her fingers over his hips bones.

Following Emma’s lead, Simon helps her out of her shirt so that they both stand bare chests facing one another. Her nipples are already hardening as they hit the cool air outside her clothing and he runs a fingertip over the tiny rosebuds to feel them. She is perfection, a sight of decadent flesh that fuels that hungry need he felt he had to abruptly cut off upstairs and the more he stares the more it grows.

The couch sits just behind them and taking her hand in his, he pulls her a few steps over to it and takes a seat. Grabbing onto her hips and turning her around, he pulls her down onto his lap. That throbbing bulge barely covered by the pants slipping off him is straining even harder now and she has to open her legs wider so that it can comfortably stand at attention in between them.

Situated on him she leans her warm, bare back against his chest, those muscles that she knew by touch alone are now clammy, yet still familiarly fit against her just as they always had. Simon takes those stiff, cold fingers and runs them slowly down the line of her silky neck to her chest, around the tissue of her breast and down still to the curve of her hip.

Being touched that way by another, by him, after so fucking long makes her skin burn and she leans her head back against his shoulder to close her eyes and simply enjoy the icy prickles his touch creates. He brings those fingers back up all the winding way to her throat and then back down again, except he doesn’t stop at her hip this time.

Lower he walks those stiff digits into her lap, then inside the waistband of her jeans, and then all the way down until he is inside her panties. She doesn’t try to stop him, instead letting her knees fall open to give him more access. The further he goes the more he can feel just how warm and wet she is down there and it excites him, the damp heat radiating off her cunt and into his pulse-less palm as he cups his hand around her mound.

“Christ,” she exclaims in shock as her body jolts against him, her pussy still a good bit sensitive from before.

“Uhhh,” he groans in response, intrigued by how much he enjoys causing such a visceral reaction and wanting to replicate it.

Again her scent filled his nostrils, those delicious pheromones that he had caught a whiff of earlier, and again it awakens something primal within him. Taking his fingers he drags them heavily over the slit of her cunt, covering them in her juices, until he slips between her soft lips and over that still dripping core. Again her body jolts into him as those thick fingers rub the length until he finds what he had unconsciously been searching for: a small bundle towards the top of your pussy.

“Ugh,” that deep groan is more breathless this time, as if he is enjoying the feeling of her honey filling his hand.

Cool fingers began stroking against her clit with a rhythm that is ingrained in him from past experience and it’s like falling right back into old habits. Her hips start to grind over his hand as they want to do in response to his movements, that dance of give and take, and he has to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her from slipping off his lap, but it’s worth it to feel the way her body moves.

The more she rides his fingers, the more that eerily silent house is filled with her precious soft moans and the faster she gets, the more the desire to rut into all that soft, tight, wet flesh overwhelms his every sense. His cock twitches; it’s too much to handle anymore, he needs to bury it in her.

With a low growl he moves them both to the floor in a rush, ripping her jeans off of her legs in one strong tug before pushing her forward and pulling her hips up so that she has to get on your knees, face towards the floor. He too kneels behind her, shoving the fabric of his clothing down enough to release his engorged cock and taking both of her hips into his preternatural grasp, so firm that his fingertips make the muscle sting, he aligns the head with her slit.

This is crazy, she tells herself. But it is the end of the world after all, why not go out with a bang?

It’s highly dangerous and slightly insane to have him in this state, there is no telling what could happen, but Emma can’t stop, not with how her body burns for him, only for him. Whatever the consequences she’d deal with them later, right now she just needs him to fuck her like he used to: rough and untamed.

Instinct takes hold of Simon so that he knows what to do and slipping through her damp lips a few times, he rests the head of his cock against her entrance and with a strong thrust shoves himself inside down to the base of his thick shaft.

Goddamn she had forgotten the actual feeling of how big he is, but there must be something in being infected that makes Simon even more engorged because his girth is almost more than the walls of her pussy can handle. Fuck, she is so full of him that when he finally pulls out of her it will feel so goddamn empty it’ll physically hurt.

His cool palm is on her back now, running up the length of her spine to just between her shoulders where he stops to pin her top half to the ground so that her ass is forced to rise more as he begins to thrust in and out of her furiously. Each stroke stretches her core out more until the sting subsides and the satisfying euphoria settles in.

“Simon,” she moans his name, the same desperate way he heard it for the first time upstairs, but being inside of her as she breathes life into it makes him tremble.

And he needs more. “UH,” Simon growls as he slams into her from behind to make her ass jiggle as it bounces off of his pelvis.

Emma braces her hands under her to steady herself, but it does little to help; the man inside of her is gone and all she can do is take the pounding he gives. His delicious roughness, the way his cock reaches deeper and deeper inside of her makes the arch of her back even more pronounced.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” she stammers, her voice vibrating from each impact that makes he breasts rebound against the ground.

Harder and faster Simons strikes into her pussy, throwing caution to the wind as he grunts and groans like a wild beast hell bent on getting what is his. She is so fucking warm, so gorgeously wet, that even his dead skin feels reanimated so that each brush of her body against him has him reeling in pleasure.

This is the closest he can get to feeling like a fully living thing again.

Stopping suddenly Simon rips his cock out of her amidst her begging protests to flip her onto her bare back, brutishly pulling her ass up onto his knees to resituate her. Her pillowy thighs rest high around his torso, squeezing against him as he immediately thrusts back into that warm, wet hole and expeditiously returns to that overwhelming rhythm.

The room fills with the wet, sticky music of their bodies slapping against each other with a reckless abandon that she has never seen in him before and fuck does it make her feral. Nothing can stop their insatiable need for one another, not even the apocalypse, not even death. They are made for each other and the immensity of that idea triggers the first signs that she will cum again.

Thrust after desperate thrust he plows into her until all at once, without warning, he feels it; a warmth in his stomach like he has swallowed coals. It starts faint, almost indistinguishable, until it has nearly filled him full the longer he keeps going.

Simon won’t stop, he can’t, he is so close he can taste it: his orgasm. That pressure is building and soon it is going to blow. Emma isn’t far off either, nearly at the peak of her second orgasm the harder his cock fucks in and out of her, stimulating her clit just from the pressure of his thrusts.

“Shit, don’t stop,” she pleads pathetically, her toes curling into the air as she focuses on her breathing. Right there, it is right there; all he has to do is keep it steady.

A few more pumps of him deep in her core and that is it, like a hot flash of white light she cries out in shaky whimpers as her orgasm tears through her body with such force she writhes against the floor, her hips bucking harshly against him before she falls back and lays there. “Goddammit Simon, f-fuck.”

The feeling of her silky walls fluttering around him causes the warmth that had been building in the pit of his stomach to finally course through his body and he rips his cock out of her and shoves it through the gap in her thighs to cover her stomach. Slapping his free hand over his mouth, he stifles a booming groan while he drains his cock dry over top of her until he hangs limply over top of her body, completely spent.

Everything lay still once again as they both calm their breathing, allowing the ecstasy to run its course before even trying to separate. Minutes pass them by, but finally Emma is able to sit up and as she does she’s once again met with his eyes watching closely, admiring his handiwork: the flush in her cheeks, the sweat speckling her torso, the exhaustion in her limbs, the cum dribbling down her stomach.

He’s done that…and he likes it.

Emma flashes him a genuine smile. “Well, that was something wasn’t it?” she laughs and Simon laces his fingers into the back of her hair to pull her head towards him so that he can rest his forehead upon it with eyes closed. A silent sweet thank you for what they had both just shared.

Maybe the end of the world doesn’t have to be so bad after all. At least, now they both know that there are ways to have a little fun… and oh fuck, are they going to keep having little bits of fun.