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Live for Me

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“We’re going to see the whole damn world, you and me,” Ben declared, pinning Barbara against the bathroom wall, pushing into her wet, ready cunt. It was good, and she ached for him, the smell of his skin and the taste of his lips – if she had to die that was what she desperately needed to know. And then someone was pounding on the door and they jumped a mile, even though the undead bastards were not the sort to politely knock.

“Go the fuck away!” Ben yelled.

“I need to take a piss!” Tom whined.

“Go in a jar!” Barbara shouted, her chin bumping into Ben’s forehead as he pulled down her dress and kissed down her neck, toward her nipple. That took his cock out of her and she wouldn’t have that.

A long pause as Ben started thrusting more rapidly, forcing Barbara to bury a moan in his neck. “Are you guys screwin’?”

“NO!” Ben and Barbra shouted together, which caused his cock to leap within her and forced a hysterical giggle out of Barbara.

“Sure sounds like it.”

She clung to the mirror behind her, one hand on the top of Ben’s head, twisting around to yell at Tom, which made Ben moan into her neck and bite down. “GO FIND JUDY!”

“She’s trying to find something to eat! The girl gets hungry at the strangest times.” Ben grinned and started rocking on-rhythm to Tom’s words, which forced louder gales of laughter out of Barbara. “We’ve got jackasses in the cellar and dead people walking and she was asking for Jiffy Pop. Anyway, Judy once ate a whole bucket of chicken this one time we ran over a possum. That’s how she deals when she’s depressed and…”

“Keep – talking!” Barbara gasped out.

“Why should I?” now he sounded suspicious.

“We’re out of magazines in here!” This time laughter rumbled out of Ben’s chest.

There was a long pause. “You city folk are sickos,” he declared, his footsteps announcing his departure, and the resumption of nails entering wooden boards

Ben and Barbara were coming – even though they were laughing like maniacs at the same time. It only took a few more thrusts for Ben to let go and lose his balance, pressing her to the wall. Barbara gave of herself, cradling him, and he got a hand between them to finish her – panting, gasping – off.

They quickly cleaned up, helping each other right clothing and fix hair – an odd form of bonding after the hell they’d been through. He kissed her just below her ear before pushing her out the door with the butt of the gun. Outside, someone screamed, and they rushed toward the danger together. “Stay alive,” he ordered.

Later, Barbara held onto that memory like a crucifix as she walked the world. If those undead bastards couldn’t have her, neither could anybody else. Ben had showed her that much – had shown her so much in such a short amount of time – and she would never dishonor him by giving up.