The undead seek human captives for sex.
Boston is hostage to a blizzard & zombies roam the icy streets. Hayden Thomas, tabloid writer, discovers a zombie tribe that lives off constant sex with humans instead of eating their flesh.
Mattie, one of the...
Hayden watched Matthew fuck his girlfriend's mouth, mesmerized by the rhythm of the man's body, swaying back and forth, rocking into her while she struggled. Each time he drew out, she gasped for air then sucked him back in. Scorching curls of anger and disgust rose inside him, turning and twisting, silencing the last voices of his decency, giving space to the bleak fire of lust that flickered higher and higher.
Hayden stared down at Rachelle, his body stiff, tense and simmering with a low rage he hadn't known he possessed. The anger rose like steam, coming slowly then thickening, finding its own way, its own path. The sensation gurgled through him, filling his veins with new, wilder blood. Even the air he pulled into his lungs was different.
"It's a well-crafted tea," Matthew said. "It dulls the mind just enough to quell the conscience."
Rachelle lifted her chin and tried to connect her gaze with his, but the effects of the tea must have been too much because she gave up, turned away and began stroking her breasts then pinching her nipples as she rolled her hips. Hayden ground his teeth, let out a hot breath and looked up. Unlike Rachelle's, Matthew's gaze was sharp. Brewing behind the awareness was an unquenchable evil that was as compelling as it was repulsive.
"If you ever wondered what she's really like," Matthew said, "you know, the person under whatever careful side she always shows you everyone else, wonder no more. Here's the real girl under the mask."
Matthew jerked his hips, jamming his dick in and out of Rachelle's mouth. Each time she coughed, his mouth twisted into a snarling grin. She opened her mouth then rounded her lips around his shaft, diligently sucking, desperately working to give in to even the fiercest thrusts.
Matthew shifted forward, shoved his cock still deeper into Rachelle's mouth, and held it there. She struggled, a slick trail of saliva rolled down from the corner of her mouth. Matthew tilted her head back, adjusting better to his aggressive thrusts then started moving again. Hayden's own dick stiffened more, lifting until it jutted forward.
Hayden rolled forward, feeling the weight of the chain across his back as he knelt between Rachelle's legs. She showed none of the hungry urgency that had turned him on the night before. Now she was nothing more than a willing vessel for his lust, a place to shove his cock.
"It's what's good for you, Hayden. Trust me, I know. Do it."
Hayden's own world hung on the fringes of his awareness, that place where right and wrong existed. He reeled back and soaked in the corruption. Once the last of his consciousness faded into the wretched haze of his mind, he placed his cock at Rachelle's slick opening and impaled her. She bucked, the movement of her hips acknowledging his entry, inviting him to fuck her.
He did.
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Torn fishnet stockings and sex in cages. Or: How I got started writing erotic zombie horrorWrite about zombies? Not me. Write about zombies who feed off sex? Well, that's more likely. Add in a horror element--now I'm all in. Read the rest:
