Harem Apocalypse: Every Moan Levels Us Up!

The room was a mess like the last time I entered it. A bra she must have worn during the day lay on the tiled floor, and papers were scattered everywhere like someone had given up mid-thought.

The sound was high and unmistakable — that was why she hadn’t heard me knocking.

Daphne was sitting on the couch with her back to the door, legs spread comfortably, laptop balanced on her thighs.

The screen showed two women tangled together on a bed, moaning shamelessly as one sucked the other’s breasts, tongue swirling hungrily around a hard, glistening nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. Wet, obscene sucking sounds filled the room, mixed with breathy gasps and the slick, rhythmic noises of fingers plunging deep into dripping pussy.

The audio was loud inside the room — breathy gasps, the occasional whispered "yes" that cut through the quiet like a blade.

I closed the door behind me with a soft click.

She didn’t turn around, clearly lost in the video. Her left hand was inside the loose wrap covering her body, squeezing and pinching her own breast, rolling a stiff nipple between her fingers. Her right hand was buried between her spread legs, moving slowly under the fabric — fingers sliding up and down her slick folds, occasionally dipping inside her dripping hole.

I cleared my throat.

"Daph."

She froze for half a second, then slowly turned her head. Her eyes met mine over the back of the couch. There was a flicker of surprise, but she didn’t scramble to cover herself. Her hand stayed inside the wrap, fingers still lazily pumping in and out of her soaked cunt.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, voice a little husky.

"Wanted a word with you," I replied.

"This time of night?"

I didn’t answer. She didn’t pull her hand out. The laptop screen behind her was still playing, one woman moaning louder now, the other whispering something filthy and low while she fingered her partner’s shining pussy.

"Don’t you knock?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her tone.

"I did," I said. "Twice. You didn’t answer."

"So?" She pressed, but left it. "Okay, fine."

She finally withdrew her hand, slowly, almost lazily, and pulled the wrap tighter around her body. The fabric was slightly damp where her fingers had been. She closed the laptop with a soft click, but left it on the couch beside her.

She leaned back, one arm draped along the back of the couch, legs still slightly parted. "You came all the way to the teachers’ quarters at midnight. Because you needed someone to talk to?"

"No," I said. I didn’t sit. Didn’t move closer. Just stood there, letting the silence do some of the work. "I came because you said your door is always open."

"That was about conversation, Abram."

"Was it?"

She looked at me. Her hand rested on her thigh, fingers still curled slightly, like she hadn’t quite decided whether to put them back where they’d been.

"You’re not here to talk," she said.

"No."

"So what are you here for?"

That was the only question I needed to answer. A right answer would open her legs for me because she was already dripping and horny. A wrong one risked resetting everything.

I stepped closer to the couch. "I’m only here because you’re not telling me to leave."

She watched me for a long moment, chest rising and falling quickly. Then she reached for the laptop and set it on the floor.

"You should go," she said.

But she didn’t stand. Didn’t move.

"Probably."

"Abram."

"Daph."

She let out a short, bitter laugh. "You’re not actually leaving, are you?"

"No. I didn’t come this late just to enter and leave."

"Then what are you going to do?" she asked as she shifted slightly, making space on the couch beside her — an invitation wrapped in a question, her thighs parting just a little more.

I sat immediately. We both knew what was about to happen. This was an indirect permission to explore every inch of her body.

She was sitting near me, wrapped in that thin fabric, and my thoughts were certain there was nothing underneath but hot, wet skin.

"I’m... tell me about the stories of zombies fucking," she said, trying to sound casual. "You told me you had more."

"The outside has got lots of stories," I said as my hand pressed on her thigh. She didn’t move away. "Highs and lows."

My fingers slid higher, brushing the hem of the wrap. Her skin was warm, flushed, already burning. I could feel the intense heat radiating from her soaked pussy. She parted her thighs just a little wider, almost unconsciously, inviting me in.

I slipped my hand under the fabric. No panties. Just bare, slick heat. My fingers brushed her outer lips, felt the shape of them. She inhaled sharply when I parted them, sliding one finger along her slit, feeling how soaked she was.

"Ohh.. kay..." she breathed, hips shifting toward my hand. "And... what’s it like out there? Really?"

"Hard," I said, as my fingers brushed off her pussy and came back to her thighs. Not time to put it in yet. I pulled my hand back slowly, letting her feel the absence. "People mostly focused on not dying. Zombies everywhere. Your dream becomes entering the walls."

She let out a soft, frustrated hiss as I massaged her upper thighs, just below her dripping cunt, spreading her wetness across her skin.

"And the school?" she asked, voice breathier now, a small hiss escaping when my hand pressed her clit as they moved up to her waist. "How are you finding Hogsby?"

"Strange," I said, feeling her waist. "Too quiet. Too clean. Everyone pretending the infected don’t exist outside the walls."

She moved from where she was and swung a leg over me, straddling my lap, her knees sinking into the couch on either side of my hips.

"Keep talking," she whispered, as I felt her wet pussy press against my lap. "Tell me... what you really think."

"I’ve known two places. Two worlds," I said as my hands pressed her breasts. "Two beautiful handfuls."

"Very beautiful," she tried to keep the conversation going, but her voice cracked into a moan when I pinched her nipples harder.

I leaned in and kissed her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark while my fingers kneaded her soft tits. "I think the walls are a lie. They’re not protecting anyone. They’re just... delaying the inevitable," I said as I tugged her wrap down, exposing her breasts completely.

"Imagine if they fall... Abram..." She helped me pull the wrap off completely, letting it fall away as she eagerly tugged my shirt over my head.

She was completely naked now. She stood up for a moment so I could take her in fully — full breasts, narrow waist, wide hips, and that pretty, swollen cunt begging to be filled.

"Abram," she called me. "Make this night my greatest memory."

Careful what you wish for.