Adrenaline Junkie

I take a long draw from the beer bottle, wrapping my lips around it, caressing it with my tongue for Michael to watch. We sit on the asphalt, our backs against the wall, facing each other from either side of the corner. From our vantage point on top of the garage, we could see for several blocks in any direction. We could see them coming before they ever knew we were there.

“I can do this if you want. If you want to back out, I understand,” I told him.

“No way. I’m here for it. No turning back.”

I hear, even from the height of the roof, the unmistakable sounds of our targets moving toward us. They no longer breathed but made an airy sound through their slack jaws that sounded like hissing, like a full nest of snakes.

I rise to stand at the short wall that surrounded the roof of the parking structure and motion for him to do the same. Michael joins me, resting the crossbow on the ledge, and lines up a target through the sight. The red dot illuminates against the monster’s forehead and with a snap of the string, the monster crumbles.

His first kill.

I look at his face. His brown eyes flash wildly. I let my eyes wander down his body to the slight bulge in his jeans. He is enjoying this.

Good.

He pulls another bolt from the quiver at the back of the bow and loads it. Another red dot, another fallen monster.

I expect him to take another shot but instead, he rests the crossbow on its butt and turns his wild eyes to me. He unzips his jeans, exposing his fully erect cock, and pushes me, hard, to my knees.

He really is enjoying this.

The adrenaline does that to people sometimes. I had seen it before, but not to this extent. Not that I was complaining, not at all. I take his cock deep into my throat as he wraps his hands in my hair, pulling me into him, thrusting into me. I gag, a little, from the force, and adjust to give him better access to fuck my mouth, there on the roof, four stories above a zombie hoard.

I don’t want him to come, not like this, not yet. I close my lips tight around his cock, and suck, hard, like it was a straw in a fresh milkshake. I push his jeans off his hips, clawing at his ass as I do, pulling him deeper into me, into my throat, down my throat, before lifting myself off of him, pressing just the head of his cock against my lips. I reach a hand into my own jeans, coating it in my own hot, wet anticipation, then rub my cum on his pink, veined flesh. He reaches for my head and I swat his hand away. He reaches again and again, I swat him away.

When I won’t let him touch my head, he picks up the crossbow, his cock in my mouth, and loaded another bolt into the strings. As the string snaps and the bolt sings through the air, his cock jerks against my tongue. But he doesn’t come, he grows harder, thicker, filling my mouth even more than before.

I am still not ready for him to come, even though I know he is ready. I slide my lips, slowly, firmly, over his shaft, savoring the taste I had left there. I move my hand back to finger his taint, massaging the soft flesh, covering his balls with my palm. With other hand, I squeeze his groin and he gasps, rolling his hips to drive his cock into the back of my throat. I loosen my grip on his cock, opening my mouth, slightly, and urge him to thrust, as he would thrust into my pussy. I hold his hips to keep everything steady and let him pound his cock into my mouth.

He loads another shot into the crossbow and I feel his cock grow even harder. I am sure when he comes he will explode, filling my throat with hot, salty juices, and I am ready for it. This time, with the thwang of the bow string, his cock jerks, his body jerks. He drops the weapon and grips my head in both hands, holding himself deep in my throat. I do my best to swallow every drop, sucking it from him, relishing his flavor.

When I have sucked him dry, he lifts me from my knees, strips me from the waist down, and rests my bare ass on the concrete ledge, a hundred feet above the hoard, five dead among them. He spreads my legs apart and buries his face between them.