A strength... for now

"We're headed to the market down the road," you say, nodding towards the alley's entrance. The street is still blissfully absent of Infected, but you and Stephanie still move quiet and slow, checking windows and other side streets as you move forward. "I'm running low on supplies."

The girl frowns, "You know those futas hang around places like that, right? They might not need food, but they know we do."

You grimace, "Well, I don't have much choice, do I? Let's be careful."

"I'll say," Stephanie remarks, but so softly you're not sure if you were meant to hear.

You can see the market now, on the other side of the road. There aren't any futas in sight, but you can definitely hear some of their moaning. Bets are on the zombies being inside the supermarket. You check your companion, "Ready?"

"Yeah, be nice to find some clothes in there too."

You try not to feel regret about that fact, glancing at her perky, freckled breasts. Sprinting across the street, you hug the wall to the store, cautiously checking a murky window. The lights are off and you don't see any movement...

Opening the door as quietly as possible, and thanking God there wasn't some kind of welcoming bell attached. You and Stephanie crouch low in the small foyer, where a few rusted carts are housed. The rows of aisles are about six or seven feet high, just enough so you can't see over them. Most are empty.

"God, not much left, huh," the teen hisses. You shush her, afraid something might hear. A tin can rattles to the floor, further back into the dark aisles. You both freeze, muscle taunt and ready for any sign of the futas.

Several minutes pass in still silence before you breath again.

"Ah, jackpot," Stephanie whispers, holding up two jars of peanut butter. You smile, those things don't expire for months, so its a nice find. A few more steps also finds six bottles of water, about which you nearly jump for joy. You were down to your last pair.

A whizzing sound pierces the peace and a splatter of white goo explodes where your hand was a second ago! You and Stephanie scramble back, you can't see anything, but another shot fires your way, impacting on your shirt with surprising ****.

The solid white muck is almost glue-like in consistency and as the smell reaches your nostrils and triggers a blood rush to your cock, you yell to Stephanie, "Its a Jizzer!"

The teenager ducks as another cumshot flies just over her head, splattering the shelf behind her and knocking several plastic cups to the ground. She backs against the aisle, "We have to run - ACK!"

An imposing figure leaps out of the shadows, landing onto of the shelves above Stephanie, a ridiculously long cock dangling in front of her face. The Jizzer is remarkably muscular, toned and tense arms gripping tightly at the base of its eighteen inch penis; firm, perfectly round C-cup breasts lightly leaking milk down her six-pack stomach.

With intimidating agility, the Jizzer snatches Stephanie's head and in the blink of an eye her throat is bulging as it plunges its long rod through her lips. She groans and struggles but the Jizzer holds her tight, pumping vast amounts of sperm into her stomach... which to your shock begins to form a small, growing bump.

You're about ready to throw up, but you realize this is your moment to run... or to be the hero and hope your soaker will be as effective on the Jizzer as it is on the more common Infected.