Jimmy Patterson

"Shit, shit, shit," you curse, running about the long abandoned apartment you've been staying in for the last two weeks. You can hear them downstairs, they just broke through the door, moans reaching up to you on the second level. Damn it, your 'anti-Infected' gun is very low on 'ammo'.

Normally bottled water is such a rare commodity you wouldn't dream of using it to fill your plastic water rifle, but you have little choice at the moment and manage to fill just over half the tank. You take the gun and bolt the apartment door, drop your ragged pants to the floor and start pumping your fist on your flaccid and slowly erecting cock. Its not exactly easy to get hard when there are probably a half dozen Infected clumsily clambering up the stairs.

"Come on," you hiss at yourself, beating your now fully erect penis frantically. Its been over four days since you've last cum, so you shouldn't take too much longer. BANG BANG!

You jump back in surprise, the banging on the door continues, they've made it to your room! The slide bolt you scavenged is rocking with each pound on the wooden door; you only have a screwdriver and the door is half rotted so those few screws keeping it in place are quickly loosening.

The bolt falls away, clanking on the tile floor as the door is kicked open, revealing a six foot tall Infected, her large breasts leaking milk and dangling penis dripping with precum. You moan as sperm rockets out of your dick and splashes into the water tank, giving you barely enough time to aim at the running Infected; the gun soaks her face, she groans loudly, falling to the ground and shaking as milk and cum blast out out her.

Four more Infected crowd the door but you spray them down, leaving them in a pile of unaided orgasmic climax, each spurting cum and milk alike just from the mere touch of your water-sperm mixture. "Whew," you sigh, quickly gathering your prepared travel backpack, attempting (and failing) to not step into the growing ponds of Infected cum as you leave the building.

Its quiet on the street for now, dawn slowly breaking the sky in a pale blue light. Its time to move on, there have been too many attacks against you in this area of the city. Not for the first time you wonder if the Infected have some means of communication with each other. They certainly don't exhibit such abilities as far as you can see, but it is possible.

"God, I'm hungry," you groan, knowing your pack only contains a few bags of chips and four slices of stale bread. You know of an old supermarket several blocks to the north, but such areas are normal points of high activity for Infected. Other than the supermarket, you could make for the suburbs to the east and south, which tend to be more calm. Going west, at least for now, would be a poor choice; it would lead you deeper into the city, where a possibility of greater loot awaits, but a certainty of mass crowds of Infected await as well.