Hole-in-one

Sitting outside the convenience store are several cars, their doors hanging open from when people had fled them. I cautiously approach them, hoping to find something that I might be able to use to subdue the zombie.

My knees shake as I approach the convenience store, from of combination of fear, exhaustion, and lust. Normally, I try to stay away from the zombies, not get closer to them. The lust that has been simmering in my loins for weeks isn't helping, either. The longer I go, the more sensitive it seems my body gets. Even at this slow pace, I can feel the faint drafts of air caressing my pussy, every shift of my tattered shirt across my hard nipples, even the faint breaths of air around my feet with every step.

The first car I arrive at has nothing in it worth taking. As I slip toward the second one, I warily watch the zombie, still standing nearly stock still in the center of the small store. He still doesn't seem to have noticed me, as I peek into the partially open trunk of the next car.

This time, luck is with me, as I spot a golf club lying in the trunk. I gingerly reach inside, my fingers carefully grasping the rubber handle, then slowing withdrawing it through the gap. It's lighter than I would like, and a bit shorter, but it should do the job.

With my newfound weapon in hand, I check on the zombie again. He's turned just a bit, though not enough to concern me yet, but is otherwise still listlessly standing there. As I go to look away, though, I catch a glimpse of something by his hip. With a start, I realize it's the tip of what seems to be a sizeable, hard cock, and my libido rushes forward again. God, how I want to, no, _need_ to be filled right now.

I find myself frozen, my sensibilities and libido at war with each other. My right hand grasps the golf club in a white-knuckled grip, as my left hand slides through a tear on the front of my pants, its fingers brushing my soaking-wet gash...