Harem Apocalypse: Every Moan Levels Us Up!

The moonlight still bathed us in its cold, unrelenting glow, every bead of sweat on our skin catching the silver like liquid mercury.

"You like it?" I asked.

May didn’t answer. Her hand tightened on my hip, the fingers pressing deeper into the muscle with deliberate strength. The pads of her fingertips dug in first, then her palm followed, pulling me back toward her with a slow, insistent tug.

Her nails created faint, crescent-shaped impressions that I could feel as tiny points of pressure against my skin. She drew me in, closing the minuscule distance I had allowed to form, until the heat of her body enveloped me once more.

A small, needy sound escaped her lips, soft, almost fragile, like the barest edge of a whimper caught in her throat. It lingered in the night air, vibrating through her chest and traveling down her spine in a faint tremor that I could see rippling beneath her skin.

I focused entirely on her.

My gaze traced the elegant curve of her spine, vertebra by vertebra, each one standing out in delicate relief under the thin sheen of sweat that coated her back.

The moonlight highlighted every contour, turning the shallow valley along her backbone into a river of shadow and light. With each subtle shift of our bodies, the muscles flanking her spine flexed and released in slow waves, the skin stretching taut over them before softening again.

Her blonde hair had fallen across her back in loose strands, some of it clinging to the dampness there. As I moved, those strands shifted with agonizing slowness, one lock sliding a fraction of an inch down the slope of her shoulder blade, catching the light and gleaming like spun gold before settling against her skin.

The soft, wet sounds of us moving together filled the intimate space between our bodies. Each time I withdrew, there was the faintest, slick pull, a quiet, viscous whisper of her arousal coating my cock.

When I pressed forward again, the sound deepened into a gentle, obscene squelch, her wetness displaced and welcomed, the heat of her pussy enveloping me in slow, rippling contractions.

I pushed my cock one last time.

My hips rolled forward with infinite patience. The thick shaft sank deeper, millimeter by millimeter, stretching her walls around me until I was buried to the hilt once more.

Her inner muscles fluttered and gripped in response, a series of slow, powerful pulses traveling the entire length of my length. At the deepest point, I felt it, her heartbeat.

A strong, rhythmic throb transmitted directly through the velvet heat of her pussy, pressing against the sensitive head of my cock in steady, living beats. Each throb squeezed me gently, then released, then squeezed again, syncing with the visible flutter of the vein along the side of her neck.

She came first. Hard.

It began deep inside her. Her pussy suddenly clenched around my cock with crushing intensity, the velvet walls seizing in a powerful, involuntary spasm.

The first rhythmic pulse hit like a slow wave, tight, wet, and molten, squeezing the entire length of my shaft from base to tip. Then the second pulse followed, even stronger, rippling along my cock in visible contractions that I could feel traveling through her body.

Her inner muscles fluttered wildly, gripping and releasing in erratic, powerful surges, flooding me with fresh heat and slickness.

Her entire body tensed in slow motion. The muscles along her arched back stood out in sharp relief, each vertebra pressing harder against her glistening skin.

Her shoulders drew inward. Her neck strained, head tilting forward as a deep, guttural moan tore from her throat, raw and broken, only to be caught and scattered by the night wind before it could fully form.

Her legs began to tremble. The shaking started in her thighs, a fine vibration that traveled downward through her calves. Her knees scraped against the gritty rooftop ledge as her weight shifted, muscles quivering uncontrollably.

Her hands, still planted wide on the rough concrete, began to slide. Fingers splayed, palms losing purchase as sweat and grit mixed beneath them. The tips of her nails dragged slowly across the surface, leaving faint pale lines in the dust.

I didn’t stop.

I kept moving through her climax, pushing forward with deliberate, unhurried thrusts. Each time I withdrew, her pulsing walls clung to me desperately, stretching thin strands of her arousal between us.

Each time I drove back in, I felt the fluttering aftermath of her orgasm, smaller, lingering ripples traveling along my cock, milking me with decreasing but still powerful contractions.

The head of my cock nudged against that deepest point inside her again and again, slow and deep, maintaining the same relentless rhythm. Her wetness coated me completely now, dripping in slow, viscous trails down the inside of her thighs, glistening like liquid pearls under the moon.

When the last heavy pulse finally faded, her body still trembled around me. Her pussy continued to flutter with tiny aftershocks, softer now, but no less intimate. Yet I remained buried inside her, still rock hard, still thick, still moving with that same measured, gliding pace.

My hips rolled forward once more, sinking fully into her welcoming heat as the wind cooled the sweat on my chest.

[Progress towards the next full charge. 56→ 59→ 64]

"Don’t... stop," she whispered.

My hands moved to her hips. The right hand first, fingers spreading wide as my palm descended. The heat of her skin met me before contact, radiating upward.

Then the pads of my fingers touched, pressing into the soft, sweat-slick flesh just above the curve of her ass. My thumb settled into the small hollow beside her spine while the rest of my fingers wrapped around the front of her hipbone, gripping firmly.

The left hand followed the same slow path, mirroring the motion until both palms were locked onto her, fingers digging in just enough to create faint dimples in her skin.

I began to fuck her through the aftershocks.

At first, the movements were glacial. I withdrew with aching slowness, feeling her pussy still fluttering around me in weak, irregular pulses.

Her slick heat dragged along every inch of my cock, the sensitive head catching on the rippling contractions that hadn’t yet fully subsided.

Then I pushed back in, deep, deliberate, sinking fully until my pelvis pressed flush against the soft cushion of her ass. Each thrust stretched the seconds into something endless, the wet, intimate sounds of our bodies joining rising clearly in the quiet night.

The pace deepened. My grip on her hips tightened. The muscles in my core engaged, driving my cock harder into her. The thrusts grew more powerful, each one ending with a solid, wet impact that sent faint ripples across the flesh of her ass and thighs.

The ruined wall beneath her hands creaked in protest, a low, groaning sound that vibrated through the concrete and into our joined bodies. Dust sifted down from the ledge in tiny, sparkling particles that caught the moonlight before vanishing into the void below.

The moon watched in cold silence. Below us, the infected remained frozen statues.

My release built with torturous slowness. Pressure coiled tighter at the base of my spine, spreading through my cock with every heavy thrust.

Her pussy continued to flutter around me, hot and slick, drawing me deeper. I drove in one final time, burying myself to the absolute hilt, my hips locked hard against her.

The first pulse hit like a slow explosion. Thick, heavy throbs traveled the length of my cock as I came deep inside her, flooding her with pulse after pulse. Each contraction squeezed me back, her walls still gently spasming in response.

I stayed there. Buried completely. Pulsing.

My forehead lowered to the back of her neck. The movement took long seconds, my spine curving, the damp skin of my brow making contact with the warm, sweat-slick skin at the nape of her neck.

Her blonde hair brushed against my face, strands sticking to my skin. I breathed her in, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse against my lips.

Her hand moved. Fingers lifting from the gritty ledge, sliding backward in a slow arc until they found my right hand still gripping her hip. Her palm covered mine, fingers threading between my own, pressing down with quiet strength. Her nails rested lightly against the back of my hand.

We stayed like that.

Locked together. Breathing hard. My chest rising and falling against her back, hers moving beneath me in shallow, trembling rhythm.

The cool night wind ghosted across our overheated skin, carrying away the mingled scent of sweat and sex.

The moonlight held us suspended in its cold embrace as I began to pull out.

My cock eased backward with infinite slowness, inch by deliberate inch. Her pussy clung to me the entire way, the slick, velvet walls fluttering with lingering aftershocks, reluctant to release their grip.

A thick, glistening strand of our combined fluids stretched between us as the head finally slipped free, shining silver in the moonlight before breaking and falling in a slow, viscous trail down the inside of her thigh.

May shifted beneath me.

She turned in my arms. The movement started at her waist, a slow twist of her torso. Her spine rotated vertebra by vertebra, muscles sliding beneath sweat-glistened skin.

Her right shoulder came around first, then her left, blonde hair swinging across her face.

Her breasts brushed against my chest as she completed the turn, nipples still hard, skin fever-hot against mine.

Her face came into view.

It was flushed deep pink, the color rising from her throat and spreading across her cheeks in a delicate bloom.

A single bead of sweat traced the line of her jaw before slipping down her neck. Her lips were parted, full and softly swollen, still trembling with the remnants of her breathing.

Her eyes reflected the moon as two pale, luminous pools, the pupils wide and dark, softened with something raw and unguarded.

"That was—" she started.

Her voice came out low, husky, the words forming with visible effort. Her lips moved around each syllable, the lower one catching slightly on her teeth.

"Yeah," I said.

The single word left my throat rough, barely more than a breath. Our eyes held.

She smiled. The real one.

It began at the corners of her mouth, a slow, genuine curve that deepened gradually, softening the tension in her face. The flush on her cheeks seemed to brighten for a moment.

Tiny lines appeared at the edges of her eyes as they crinkled with quiet warmth. For one long, suspended second, nothing else existed, just her face, glowing softly in the moonlight, smiling up at me.

Then—

A sharp, cracking sound split the night from far below. The gunshot echoed off the ruined buildings, flat and metallic, stretching unnaturally long in the quiet air.

All at once, the infected woke.