I Hate Zombie Dick!

Andrea dragged herself through the hospital corridor, blood and worse caked across her skin. Just when the dead closed in, Michonne cut through them with that katana, blade flashing and severing rotten heads. They ducked into a side room, shoved a cabinet across the door, and caught their breath among the scattered supplies. A bed waited against the far wall. Their eyes met, sharp with the same dark humor—no more rotting cocks. Michonne reached for her first, yanking the filthy clothes from both their bodies. She pushed Andrea back onto the mattress and spread her legs, tongue sliding through the wet heat between them in one long stroke. Andrea moaned, hips bucking, while Michonne’s fingers worked inside her—two at once, then three—pumping deep and steady until Andrea gasped her name. They flipped, Andrea straddling Michonne’s face, grinding down on that relentless tongue while Michonne rubbed her own clit in tight circles. The wet sounds filled the room as they chased it harder: Andrea riding faster, Michonne’s mouth sealed against her cunt. Their orgasms crashed through them, bodies shaking against one another until they finally collapsed, slick and spent, a rare pocket of heat inside the cold dead world.