"Take that you dickless motherfucker!" crowed Cam, blasting the shambling zombie into a spray of red pixels all over the wide-screen TV. He clutched the game controller, thumbing the buttons as he rounded on another cluster of the undead who'd appeared from behind a barn and were staggering forward, arms outstretched and moaning. Pretty realistic sound effects, John noted with approval. "Hah!" yelled Cam, taking them all out with his flamethrower function. Nasty bubbling sounds emanated from the entertainment system's surround sound speakers as the zombies, now covered in napalm, burned merrily.
Cam turned to John, grinning triumphantly. "Gettin' damn close to your score, ace," he grinned. "You're not gonna be top gun for much longer, Shep."
"Yeah, right," said John, rolling his eyes and pointing. "Not if those fuckers get you first, Mitchell."
"Shit!" Cam spun back, biting his lip. He leaned forward, working the controls frantically, spraying bullets across the disintegrating scarecrows who were lurching out from between tall rows of corn a few meters away.
John frowned. Cam was getting close to his score, damn it. Time to distract him. He slid to his knees on the thick shag pile and slithered between Cam's wide-planted legs, unbuttoning his jeans.
"The fuck you doing, Shep? Oh, you bastard, I've got your number!" That last was followed by a blast of automatic weapons fire from the TV so it was hard to know if it was John's number or some zombie's Cam had got. John grinned and went down on him, aiming for maximum sensory overload with tongue and suction so as to grab Cam's attention and throw him off his game.
"Sweet Jesus," gasped Cam. His hips bucked and he moaned, his cries mingling with the groans and whimpers coming from the TV as more zombies closed in. John assumed that was what was happening anyway, his back was to the screen now and he was too caught up in the taste of Cam, loving the heavy pressure as the head of his cock nudged the back of John's throat, the weight and slide of the shaft on John's tongue.
John moaned and fisted Cam's cock, sucking hard on the head, wet and messy. "Yeah," he moaned, "Want brainzzz, gimme brainzzz."
"Oh, you sick fuck," gasped Cam, thighs trembling and thumbs erratic on the controller as he arched up into John's mouth and came, hitting both buttons hard. An amplified explosion boomed from the speakers, then music that announced "game over". They both lay there, winded, John's head on Cam's leg as he swallowed and licked his lips, chasing Cam's taste.
"I win at multi-tasking," managed Cam finally, nudging John with his knee. "So your devious plan to distract me failed hopelessly, see?" He waved at the screen where his total was displayed as the new high score, flashing numbers challenging John to reclaim his supremacy.
John sat back on his heels, grinning. "I am so going to have your ass, Mitchell, just as soon as you take care of this little problem I seem to have developed, here." John smirked down at his bulging crotch where his dick was leaking a wet spot into his jeans.
"Two can play at that game," said Cam, making a "come to daddy" gesture. "Or at those games, I should say. Get those pants off, Shep, and get your ass over here."
John shucked off his clothing and straddled Cam, leaning in eagerly for a kiss. He groaned and rubbed himself against Cam's groin, but found himself pushed back after only a little tongue action. "Nuh-uh, Shep. Can't play sittin' thattaway around, can you?" Cam lifted him and slapped his ass, pulling John down onto his lap again, now facing the TV, where ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE IV was scrolling across the screen in dripping red letters.
He pulled John back so he was leaning against his chest, snug in the V of Cam's thighs. "Let's see how well you manage, huh?" Cam whispered into his ear, starting a fresh game with the controller and pressing it into John's hands. John clutched it, thumbs poised over the buttons as Cam's big hands slid down his belly, one cupping his balls and the other curling tight around his dick. Fuck.
This time the scenario was a run-down urban landscape, and John pressed and fired, pressed and fired, machine gun and flamethrower juddering under his twitching thumbs as the zombies scuttled out of broken storefronts and dragged their spindly, disintegrating limbs up out of the sewers, groaning and grabbing for him while he blew them all away, hips jerking, his moans adding to their desperate, hungry noises as he thrust into Cam's hands and shot his load again and again and again.
- the end -