The Interlopers
“Suck it! SUCK IT!” Shanks cried. “Oh my God! Suck it!”
They were holed up in the upper floor of the Jensen’s farmhouse, Shanks and Monroe. Well, it used to belong to the Jensens, but not anymore. Nobody owns anything anymore.
“Oh my God, YES!” Shanks’ eyes rolled back in his head and he fell back onto the pillow. Sweat was beading and trickling off his bloodflushed face.
Monroe spit a mouthful of venom-tainted blood into the basin near the bed. A few drops landed on the front of her shirt, but she didn’t care to wipe it off.
“I think I about got it” she said, rinsing out her mouth with some bottled water. “These rattlers ain’t that bad up in these parts anyhow.”
“oh my god. . .” Shanks whimpered as he quickly wiped at a tear that had escaped his eyeball.
They were a good hundred miles from the nearest hospital, not that it mattered. You had to fend for yourself now, and watch out for the goddamned interlopers.
———————————————
It was weird how fast it had happened. Shanks had been backpacking a section of the PCT in the North Cascades, and had been out in the woods for a good week. He was expecting to get a shuttle back to his car from a buddy who lived over on The Coast.
The buddy never showed. Ever. After a day of waiting, Shanks decided to hoof it into town. He would have thrown his thumb out for a ride if anyone drove past, but nobody did.
The town was eerily deserted. Shanks was craving a bottle of juice after drinking nothing but water for an entire week. He stopped by the nearest cafe, but it was empty, and no service staff to help him. The door was open, so he went inside and took a bottle out of the cooler, figuring he’d pay for it later when the help arrived.
He pulled a plastic chair off one of the tables outside and took a seat in the sun. It felt good to get off his feet, and his current plans didn’t involve being in a hurry. A squirrel fidgeted around in a nearby tree looking for food, or maybe just working off some nervous energy. Some yellowjackets noticed the juice and hovered over for a closer inspection. Shanks flicked one off the rim of the bottle and put the lid on. All around, it was dead quiet except for the buzzing of the pine beetles.
There was the sound of a slow moving vehicle at the intersection, and a truck made the turn and headed in his direction. Shanks felt relieved there was finally another human around at least.
The truck suddenly bucked to a stop, the tires making a chirping sound on the pavement. The woman in the truck was furiously rolling down the manual window.
“Get in!” She hollered.
“Scuse me?” shanks lazily drawled. She was pretty. Sweat and dust had made her face streaky and her hair was dirty, but he could tell.
“If you feel remotely attached to your LIFE, and want to Continue to Live, GET IN THE FUCKING TRUCK!”
“Jesus!” Shanks whispered to himself, but he gathered up his backpack and juice and ambled over to the passenger side. He had to put his juice on the hood of the truck so he could throw his pack into the pickup bed, then he reached for it and slid onto the sun heated vinyl.
“Take your fucking time, asshole. There’s nooooooo hurry.” she mocked derisively. As soon as his ass was on the seat, she hit the gas. He had to quickly pull his leg in before the door slammed shut. There was a shotgun and a box of shells on the seat between them, and another rifle on the gunrack in the rear window.
“What the fuck?” Shanks demanded, somewhat irritated by the sudden rush and panic.
“Where the fuck have you been dipshit?” she jeered out of the side of her mouth. “Are you even aware what’s happening?” He couldn’t help noticing her thin and muscular leg stomping the gas from out of a filthy but short sundress. She was wearing cowboy boots, which he thought was the cutest thing in the world.
“Uh, I’m being driven around by a real beautiful lady with a shotgun?” He didn’t really think the smart-ass approach was a good idea, but he couldn’t help it. At least there was a compliment embedded in there somewhere; he hoped she’d notice.
She pounded on the brake and the truck skidded in a semi-circle, landing in the middle of the road. She grabbed the shotgun and popped open her door.
“We need ammo; Grab that’n.” She jerked her head to the rifle in the window. “You know how to shoot a gun? It’s loaded.” Shanks was getting a kick out of this little cutie bossing him around. He couldn’t tell if she was single or not, but he decided to do his best to charm himself into her panties either way.
“Shanks!” He blurted as she was striding over to the hardware store.
“What?” She half turned, looking annoyed.
“My friends call me Shanks. It’s a nickname.”
“Well keep your eyes peeled, Shanks. I’m not fucking kidding.” She kicked at the door a couple times, then realized it opened out, and they went inside.
When they were at the guns and ammo, Shanks could smell her armpits. He always loved the way women smelled when they sweated; he couldn’t say why. A couple of whitetail bucks and a jackalope stared down at them from the wall.
“Get as much of that double aught as you can carry. Here.” She threw a plastic bucket at him, and disappeared down the power tool aisle.
“You got a name, or what? And how come there ain’t no people around?” he asked.
She emerged back into view, carrying a fancy cordless drill and some deck screws.
“There ain’t no people around, ’cause they all got the sickness.” She frowned at him for a few seconds like she couldn’t believe how clueless he was. “I guess you can call me Monroe.”
“Monroe. . . like Marilyn Monroe?”
“Yeah.”
————————————-
Now, Monroe was smart. Yeah, people are *”smart,”* but a lot of *”smart”* people got fucked up when it happened. Not Monroe though.
She had left her cats and husband behind back at The Coast, and come out to the Valley to spoil herself at the spa for the weekend. That was on Friday. By Sunday it was like Hell had boiled over.
After she had been in the jet bath for a few hours de-stressing, she toweled off and draped herself languidly on the couch. Laying naked in her little rustic room, she started to trace her body lightly with her fingertips. Her camera was running, because she loved to photograph herself doing naughty erotic things. It was fun. And if someone else happened to see it, well that was even more fun.
One hand traced around her nipples, and they immediately sprung erect. She pinched at one nipple, and pulled it, then did the same to its twin. Her other hand was between her spread legs. She lightly touched and teased at her swollen outer lips. When she was aroused, they would swell up and blush, and she knew the camera was taking it all in, which made her that much more excited.
With her two middle fingers, she brushed down against her clit and inner lips. The slick moisture seeping from her pussy immediately coated her fingers, and she ran them up and down a few times. Then, making sure she was properly framed in the viewfinder, she spread her fingers, exposing the pink hole leading into her body. After a delicious moment, she pinched her fingers shut, and dragged them up, one on each side of her hardened clit. It was wet and slimy from her juices, and she massaged it a few times with her fingertips. She went around her clit with a circular motion; not bothered by time, but just doing what felt good. Her body shivered, but she didn’t feel cold in the summer heat.
Slowly, she methodically plunged her two middle fingers into her pussy as deep as they would go. There were a few men besides her husband that she thought of in these moments, and she imagined it was their collective cocks penetrating her. As if in a dream, different faces would appear, but it was the same cock. She rocked her fingers in and out of her now smoldering pussy, faintly losing track of the whirring shutter and red signal light on her camera. Her asshole and nipples contracted involuntarily, and she knew her first orgasm wasn’t far away.
But she was startled by a heavy thump outside her door. Like, against her door. She suddenly felt very vulnerable, and leaped up and hurried into her clothes. She remembered turning the deadbolt before climbing into the bath, or at least she was pretty sure.
There was another, softer thud, and a rasping noise as she quietly crept toward the window. With a finger, still sticky from her pussy, she delicately peeled the curtain until she had a sliver of glass to look through. There was a man lying slumped against her door. A tingle of fear spread through her body which caused her nipples to harden again. But she felt slightly sick as she tried to determine if this was going to be a situation or not.
The man’s face looked red and bloated, and sort of pale in blotches. His forehead looked fat, and drooped over his sunken dark baggy eye sockets. He was drooling, but his spittle appeared to be reddish brown, like old blood. She couldn’t be sure this wasn’t just a trick of the lighting in the setting sun. He was panting like an exhausted dog. She heard the muffled voice of the spa manager.
“Are you OK sir? You need me to call someone?” She was inching toward him in the fading twilight with a look of extreme concern. The man’s fingers twitched in a beckoning motion.
“Khhgge. . . khggegre. . .kh” he managed to gurgle out with some deliberation.
Monroe was peeping through the slit in the curtains and saw the manager slow down and stall at the bottom of the short flight of stairs to her room. She was holding a cell phone in her hand. Then she noticed another person moving toward the steps. It was female, but most of its hair had been pulled out, and it appeared to be suffering extreme pain in its legs and abdomen. Its face was also bloated and misshapen like the man on her doorstep. What the hell, she thought. Had there been an accident or a fire or something?
The second female fell against the spa manager knocking her over onto the stairs and pinning her. The male slowly and painfully tried to get up.
“Oh my God! What the fuck!” hissed Monroe in a hoarse whisper. The female was clawing at the manager and biting her arm as the male shambled down and fell top of them. The spa manager was howling with pain and horror.
Yes, it had become a situation. Acutely aware that she needed to leave this situation, the sooner the better, Monroe snatched her travel bag and her work satchel. Everything was still packed, which was convenient, and she shoved her camera into the satchel with her laptop. Then she realized the only way out of her room was through the front door.
——————————————–
After a few days, the swelling went down on Shanks’ leg. Some places, you got bit by a rattler, you got to a hospital as quick as possible, or risk amputation. But they weren’t so bad here, and it was a young one anyway.
Shanks had been out trying to stack rocks against the basement windows when he had uncovered the little beast.
The interlopers were stupid. Whatever the strain of rabies it was that was affecting them destroyed their brain cells. They were physically more than capable of kicking a few stones away, but if they didn’t see a window, they wouldn’t know it was there.
They had decided not to call them zombies–even though they resembled zombies–because they were still alive. The interlopers were humans infected with some form of lyssavirus from a yet unknown source. The main difference between this and regular rabies though, is this one seemed to incubate instantly. Even remotely, if you were unlucky enough to get some infected spit in your eye. Also the madness period seemed to last a really long time before the paralysis set in. Sometimes, you can go down to the highway and marvel at the endless stream of traffic, but you can never imagine how the entire population can be infected in just a few short days.
Shanks and Monroe knew there were other “cleans,” as they called themselves, but there was no way currently to find them or communicate. Their main strategy for the time being was to stay put, and to blow the heads off any ‘lopers that came wandering onto their property.
Shanks lay back on the bed, bored to death. Every time he moved, a fog of dust would swirl around in the hot summer sun that shafted through the window. Monroe was napping in the big armchair across the room from him. With nothing better to do, he had been staring at her for the last hour or so. She had positioned herself in her sleep so that one leg was over the arm of the chair and the other one out in front of her with her foot on the floor. She looked as sweet and pure as an angel while she slept. All the stress melted away, and with it the creases on her face softened. But now that the sunlight was on her legs, all he could see was the crotch where they joined at her pretty lace panties. Now that his leg felt better he could think of nothing he wanted more than a good right fucking. He wondered if she ever thought the same.
She stirred a little and shifted her position.
“Hey,” he said quietly. When her eyes opened, he added, “come here,” and patted the bed next to him. To his surprise, she got up and crawled onto the bed next to him. He maneuvered his arm beneath her neck and pulled her into a close snuggle.
“You’re really pretty, you know that?” He said. She just smiled, assuming he didn’t really need an answer. He had grown to love her short shaggy hairstyle. It could be considered boyish, but she was all woman. The kind of woman who could be muscular and strong, yet not lose a mite of femininity. He gazed into her sleepy eyes, and thought they must be the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. He couldn’t say if it was the ocean or the sky, but there was something big and marvelous in them. He wished he could soak them into his brain, so that all he needed to do was close his eyes and they would be painted before him. . . forever.
“Goddamn Monroe, I think I’m falling for you.” He risked this–the last thing he needed was for her to freak out and leave, or make things uncomfortable.
“Shut up.” she said in a soft girl voice. She was smiling bashfully and her eyelids lowered a little. She began playfully picking at his pearl shirt buttons.
“You’re pretty cute yourself. . . for a dipshit.” With this, she yanked the front of his shirt open. Shanks took this as his cue, and put his hand on her ass and started exploring its shape. She nudged her knee between his, and her sundress slid about halfway off her ass. Her hip was pressed against Shanks’ hard cock, and he leaned it more firmly into her.
Shanks put his hand into the back of her panties, and felt down the crack of her ass with his fingertips. He had dreamed of her pretty ass so many times in the last few days, and now he finally got to touch it.
They were kissing now, and it was heavenly. He closed his eyes, and just occupied his sense of touch to discover the warmth and softness of her mouth. Almost unknowingly, he was pulling at her ass and grinding his sensitive hardness against her. He started reaching down, until he could feel the wetness of her pussy. When he touched it, they both inhaled sharply.
She had the front of his shirt open and was feeling the muscles on his chest, and playing with his chest hair. Then she moved her hand down and popped the button on his shorts.
Shanks wanted her hand on his cock in the worst way, so he positioned his pelvis to enable her. He had her panties down around her knees, but that kept her legs together, so he reached down and pulled them the rest of the way off. As she was stroking him, he had his fingers inside her, and tried to mimic her rhythm and velocity. After a while, he took his hand and wrapped it around hers, stopping her motion but leaving her squeezing his pulsing erection. He loved having her little hand wrapped around his cock, and he did not fail to notice that it still wore a wedding ring.
They took the smallest amount of time possible to remove the rest of their clothing. He was sure to pay special attention to the magic moment when her breasts fell out of her bra. In the two seconds it took for her to climb on top of him, he had managed to scan her incredible body, which he had never seen naked before. Her skin was the color of warm cream, her perfect pussy was accented by a small tuft of pubic hair, her breasts were the best possible size and shape, with nipples as pink as a kitten’s nose.
He was amazed she could slide onto him, the way his penis was spasming around in its rapture. But she did; she slid on and enveloped him in the soft folds of her perfect pussy, every inch of him moistened and squeezed into her warm hot body. She rocked as one might rock on a slow moving mechanical bull, her hands on his chest and his on her breasts.
In his euphoria, Shanks saw her transform before his eyes into an exquisite goddess. Otherworldly in her beauty. He had seen other women naked and riding his cock, but this one was different; this one was special. His cock seemed to embody his entire being as it penetrated her body, longing to become one with her. He had no idea what she was feeling, but he hoped it was good. She was smiling, eyes closed, as she ground her clit against his pubic bone, with the full length of him inside her. They were both sweating, but he could also feel the liquid draining out of her and wetting the base of his cock.
Suddenly she convulsed, and sort of lurched forward and he knew she was cumming. This triggered in him an involuntary convulsion of his own, and he half sat up as his cock rammed into her. For a dreamy unknowable amount of time, they both frantically mashed into each other, screaming and gasping, and uttering simple meaningless prayers like, ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod.
Finally, they fell apart, not wanting to touch each other in the blistering furnace of summer heat. Both of them tingling and effervescent and seething in their genitals. He touched his fingers to her fingers, so she wouldn’t move further away.
“oh my god” Shanks whispered as he wiped a single tear from the corner of his eye.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/5wlei2/the_interlopers_mfexhfantasymastzombie