Yes, but a little late

Your Status: Unknown (Possibly Infected)

Your Equipment: Ragged shirt, Jeans

Your Inventory: Sheath Knife

You resistance caves a bit as the Infected continues to forcefully slam its' hips against yours. You can see and hear its' balls slapping against your thighs with every thrust. Your pussy leaks more, lubricating itself against the ****, and the tingles of warmth in your loins explode into full-on flames of lust. Infected pre-cum mixes with your juices, raising your arousal.

You moan, the feeling of fullness overwhelming your other senses, the massive, throbbing cock inside you demanding your attention. Your hand stops attempting to push the Infected off, instead moving to one breast, pinching and tugging on the nipple.

As the Infected continues slamming its' cock into you, a thought forms in the back of your mind. You don't want to turn. This thought slowly swims through the haze of lust, before asserting itself in the forefront of your mind again. Against your body's desires, you pull your hand from your nipple, and attempt to push the Infected off again. Your other hand feels about, finding the hilt of your knife again, before swinging it at the Infected side.

The Infected growls softly, ignoring your attempt to remove it. Its' cock begins to pulse, and you make one last attempt to **** it off of you. That effort, however, is for naught, as the Infected slams its' weight against your hips one more time. Jets of tainted cum pulse from its' cockhead, bathing the inside of your womb. You orgasm as well, jets of your pussy juice spraying around its' cock to splatter both of your hips.

Unfortunately, that causes your attempt to stab the Infected to miss its' intended target, instead slamming into the Infected thigh. The blade buries itself to the hilt, and the Infected howls in pain, rolling away from the knife. You manage to keep your hand on the hilt, as the Infected rips itself off the blade and out of you, illiciting a cry of pain from you as well.

Surprisingly, the Infected doesn't attempt to **** you again. Instead, it turns tail, limping off down the highway to the north. You lay there a second, basking in the warmth of your orgasm, before it occurs to you that Infected wasn't an ordinary one. The coat it was wearing definitely looked like the one Lab Coat was wearing...and it had tracked you out to here.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you're left with a choice: try and chase it down now, going for a quick kill while it's wounded, or head back in, and ride out the storm?