Date: Tue, 29 Feb 2000 05:05:12 +0100 (MET)
From: kalte_maus@gmx.de
Subject: Nashville Summers

Disclaimer: This story is about (well, not ABOUT, but it includes)
consensual gay sex between two boys, one fifteen, one fourteen. If you
don't like that sort of thing you're weird. You should go elsewhere. Also
it has a bit of violence... so if that like scares you or whatever go away.

Hey y'all, me again... this is e-fic unlike that last thing I put up cause
I was bored, and it's kinda weird, but I like it a little. I dedicate this
story to Danny cause he's kewl, and cause stories should be dedicated to
him. I love you Danny! Anyway... As always pleeeeeeease send me any kind of
feedback, preferably negative cause that's what helps me to improve but
positive is apprieciated (SP?) too... =0) That's about it I guess, check it
out, please, it's a little (a lot) different but you might like it anyway,
some people I've sent it to do, send me any thoughts at all you might have,
please... I'm done rambling, here it is...

*******

Nashville Summers

	The mild September air hit my face and hit it hard as I strolled
down Tecumseh Avenue of Garrote, New Mexico, casually swinging my arms and
glancing from side to side and searching out what I could see in the dim
rays of the setting sun and the light of the few remaining streetlamps that
hadn't yet been broken. With every step I took the empty gas can held tight
in my right fist smacked into my thigh. A rhythmic pattern that I found
amusing. On either side of me sat peaceful-looking suburban homes, many
dark and deserted, some with missing doors or smashed and broken windows. I
took no notice of that.

	I scowled exaggeratedly and held up my gas can to eye level.
"Fucking thing," I growled at it, punching it weekly with my left hand.
"Why can't you just stay full on your own?" The can made no response and I
lowered it again, still scowling, and continued on my way in the general
direction of the gas station. If only I could drive, I thought... just one
more year. At fifteen, getting my license next year was the second - no,
third - foremost concept on my mind.

	Suddenly I became aware of a slight noise to my left. My nerves
tensed, and adrenaline rushed. Would this be another fight? There'd been
too many lately... but when I turned to look I allowed myself to relax
slightly. There was nothing out of the ordinary... just a boy about my age
shooting hoops in his driveway.

	It was a damn fine boy at that too, and I found my gay hormones
flaring as I admired his lean form, covered only by a loose pair of gym
shorts and an even looser yellow muscle shirt with the number '6' on the
back. When he jumped his shirt rode up on his chest and I could see his
legs flex, appealingly. I smiled, and watched as long as I could without
him noticing my stare. Once he did he just smiled back, clenching the ball
under his arm with one hand and wiping a spot of perspiration off his
forehead with the other. "Hey," he said, his voice rough and gravelly.
Before I could respond he threw the ball at my chest quick as lighting.
"Here, take a shot." I was even faster though. I dropped my gas can to the
ground with a clatter catching the ball.

	Faster than ever, I dribbled up the length of the driveway towards
the basket and the boy. When I got closer he got in my way in an attempt to
stop me. Once again I was faster than he expected. I swiftly faked left,
pivoted on the heels of my feet, and slipped by him. He tried to grab me
but I was slippery as an eel. I ran all the way to the basket where I
jumped up higher than I had thought possible and slammed the ball in. It
bounced a little on the pavement then it rolled downhill where it landed at
the boy's feet.

	He stooped over and picked it up with an inexplicable hungry grin
on his face as he did so. "Nice work," he said moving closer to me. I began
to notice a familiar odor in the air, becoming ever so stronger the closer
he got. My shoulders sagged a little in disappointment. This guy seemed so
cool and he was definitely hot. But from the smell of death he gave out and
the faith aura of light around his eyes, there was no denying the truth. He
was a zombie. Now, I would have to kill him.

	With an undead roar he threw the basketball into my face and then
lunged for me, the bloodlust driving him forward with inhuman force. For
the third time the zombieboy underestimated me. I ducked under the ball and
met his charge by punching him on the face as hard as I could. That dazed
him for a few moments but then he kept coming. That's the way it was with
zombies...you gotta kill 'em before they start hurting.

	Unfortunately, in a fist fight I had no chance against a zombie.
For all my strength I had no way to kill them unarmed. As I gave the
zombieboy another kick to the stomach to slow him down, I thought
regretfully of the chainsaw I had left at home that had already slain so
many of this guy's undead kin, and longed for it. Not that it would do me
any good now - it had no gas.

	"Your brain is mine!" The zombie gave another roar and lunged
again, this time catching my arm in its mouth. But before could bite I
moved and it just got a mouthful of Hawaiian shirt.

	Angrily I muttered, "This shirt was 100% rayon, you ass!" I
couldn't go on like this... I needed a weapon to destroy this foul thing's
brain. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted an axe lying by a pile of
freshly-cut wood. With a cry of delight I ran to it, grabbing it, and
lifting it high over my head.

	The zombie's eyes grew wide with fright for the last time. "I am
NOT your meat!" I yelled angrily at the creature. With all the force I
could muster, I brought the tool down on its head splitting it in half,
sending brains and blood in every direction, all over the pavement, and
splattering on to me as well. "God DAMN it!" I yelled wiping a sweat-soaked
jet black lock of hair out of my forehead. "Now this shirt is COMPLETELY
ruined!" I kicked the limp, lifeless form in front of me.
"God-fucking-dammit!" That was the worst part about the recent zombie surge
- if you didn't count the deaths of just about everyone I had known. They
sure knew how to ruin a wardrobe.

	Still cursing my luck I gave the zombie's body one last kick, wiped
some brains off my face, and continued down the dark driveway back towards
my gas can. Before I had gotten too far I heard a pattering noise all
around me. I felt a droplet of water hit my head and another fell on to my
arm. "Oh, shit!" I moaned. "Please don't rain..." I glanced upwards,
turning my eyes towards the heavens but nothing looked down on me. The sky
was pitch black, filled with storm clouds. A raindrop hit me in the eye.
"Fuck!" I yelled upwards to God or whoever else might be listening. "I did
NOT need this, I did definitely not need this!"

	With a sigh of submission I turned around, back towards the
zombieboy's house. Battling the undead was one thing, but getting drenched
was another. I had a long walk ahead of me. I could hole up here until the
rain stopped and besides, this kid looked about my size and he wasn't using
his cloths anymore. Maybe I could find a replacement for this shirt.

	Once again the axe came in handy. With several powerful swings, I
knocked the door down and stepped inside. It was a good-sized house,
although I couldn't made out many of the interior details; it was pitch
black. Feeling around on the wall for a light switch I found them wet and
slick. It was blood, no doubt. I'd have wagered that the guy outside had
eaten earlier.

	Finally I found the lightswitch and flicked it. Nothing happened.
"Christ," I spat and flicked it again and again as if doing that would help
my situation any. With a yell of annoyance, I swung my new axe as hard as I
could. I felt it connect to something and heard the shatter of glass. I
guessed I had hit a picture frame or something.  "Hello?" I yelled in case
any humans remained in the house. My ear met with no reply; all the
denizens of this house were either dead or undead... or else too scared to
answer. Either way I was fine, I thought, brandishing my axe against any
zombie would-be attackers.

	Glancing around the room, I waited for my night vision to set in.
As it did, little by little, I saw that the room I had entered into was
like a war area... tables were overturned, the couch has all the stuffing
ripped out of it, and windows were broken, leaving glass scattered across
the floor. Covering everything was blood.

	Outside the rain was picking up; it was a torrential downpour. With
another sigh I decided to explore the house... no WAY was I waiting in this
room! I was used to the smell of blood by this point... but that didn't
mean I had to like it.

	The next room I walked into was a hallway, a narrow passage lined
with broken picture frames of the house's previous tenants. I stopped a bit
to examine them out of morbid fascination... there were two parents, and
three good-looking children, one girl and two boys, one of which was the
zombie I had just smacked outside. The other looked remarkably similar,
about a year younger though and slightly less athletic. He had the same
light brown hair, except his was longer, and closer to being blond. In the
picture he was smiling happily. It made him look so cute, and although I
knew it was unlikely, I hoped this angelic boy had survived.

	The sister though, looked rather different. Her hair was darker and
longer. Much, much longer than either of the two boys. Her smile was
mirthless and her skin was olive. I supposed she was attractive, if you
like that sort of thing. Which personally I don't.

	At the end of the hallway waited another door, slightly ajar, and I
could see alight from within the next room. How could that be, I asked
myself silently as I put the dead portraits behind me and crept ever closer
towards the light. What the fuck was going on? This was what I really
hated, when weird shit is happening and I had no way of explaining or
understanding it. It happened a lot chasing zombies.

	I pushed the door open just enough to peek through and raised my
bloody axe over my head ready to splinter some more craniums if the need
be. What I saw inside was the most violent and disturbing scene I'd
witnessed yet. The light came from a fire that burned in the corner, giving
the room an eerie red glow that gave me the creeps. Furniture was strewn
about every which way. The carpeting was torn from the floor. The room
stank. It stank like a zombie convention of five hundred or more. I
wrinkled my nose in disgust. THIS was where the zombies had fed. I saw
bones piled in the corner by the fire, the flesh mostly gone, but still
hanging off in some parts. More blood than I had ever seen in one place had
doused the entire area. A sickening sort of paint that gleamed in the
firelight making me want to hurl. There was no way any one zombie would
have cause all that, I knew with a sinking heart.

	Gritting my teeth, I pushed the door open all the way and stepped
in. The stench hit me like a ton of bricks but I knew I had to keep my
composure if I were going to find and kill the rest of the zombies in this
house. Slinking slowly and stealthily through the room, I kept all my
senses acute and fully alert, watching and listening, silently daring any
undead to try and take me unaware. Suddenly I heard a soft scratching noise
and I whirled around on the heels of my feet to face my attacker. "Back to
the grave, you undead cur!" I snarled viscously only to discover that there
was no one there.

	What the fuck was that noise then? Perking up my ears I heard it
again. Was it coming from the closet? Seemed like it to me. So I creeped in
closer, fully aware that a zombie might have gotten itself stuck in there
capable of jumping out at me and ripping my intestines out for some sort of
macabre snack. Very cautiously I crept in closer and closer, finally
raising my axe high over my head in preparation. I reached forward, grabbed
the doorknob, and swung it open as fast as I could.

	A body tumbled out and onto my feet; it seems intact so I ruled out
the possibility of it being leftovers from the zombie feast. Was it even
alive? I considered checking the pulse but I didn't want to put my hand
that close to this person's mouth, if he did turn out to be a zombie. Then
the body stirred and I could see it was still alive. "Don't kill me..." he
moaned softly and gently. So far he didn't sound like a zombie... wait a
minute... this was the second boy from the hallway photographs! I
recognized his hair... that dreamy boy might still be alive!

	"Oh please don't be a zombie," I muttered loud enough for him to
hear.  He backed away a little and he stood up, still shaking. From where I
stood his eyes looked normal, but I couldn't tell if he reeked of death,
not in this room of all places... God, he was even cuter in the flesh then
in the portrait. He couldn't have been more than fourteen but he looked
older; like his brother had been. He was about my size. Underneath the
soft, silky jammies he was wearing I could see his body was lean yet not
too lean. Somewhat nice and soft. Just below his mop of light brown hair
sat two baby blue eyes that turned red and swollen from crying. My
desensitized heart went out to him, standing there, staring at me with a
look that combined fear and wonder while I stared back with pure,
unadulterated lust.

	"Please be human..." I begged him once more.

	He blinked twice, then wiped his eyes. "I... who are you?" he asked
stammering fearfully as if I might turn into his brother and eat him alive.

	In a suave, confident tone, I replied, "I'm your savior, baby. I'm
gonna et you out of here, to safety. I'm the one who..."

	Nash? Is that you?" I jumped... how did he know my name?

	"Yeah, that's me... mind telling me how you knew?" Was that too
rough? Maybe but, the zombie communications networks were good. And I had
killed so many, maybe they were on the lookout for me! Nashville Summers,
legendary zombie smacker! Inwardly I sighed... I knew I was dreaming. I had
only killed a handful before today and even still, if the zombies pulled
together and organized themselves and got it in their undead brains that I
was a threat... well, tough as I am now, I wouldn't survive an all-out
zombie assault without a chain gun or something.

	My rambling thoughts were interrupted by the boy's voice. "I knew
you from school... I'm Jamie Garrote... I guess you didn't know me but..."
Yeah I had known him, a little. Now I was wondering how I could have
forgotten him. Back when school was still in session, before folks got too
scared of the rampant zombies to leave their houses for any extended
amounts of time, I'd had a few classes with Jamie. I knew that his
forefather, Silias Garrote, had build this town back in the seventeen
hundreds, and that his fortune had since squandered on gambling and booze
and women by his relatives in the years since. At the moment I didn't give
a good goddamn about ol' Silias or his fucking relative. My thoughts were
on Jamie and getting him the fuck out of this house.

	But first... oh shit, I'd have to tell him about his family... this
would not be fun. I interrupted him, gently slinging my axe back over my
shoulder and putting my hand softly on him. "Listen, Jamie..." I began
slowly, "about your family..."

	Sadly, he looked down at the floor. "My brother killed them all,
didn't he?"

	"No!" I said sharply. Jamie looked up at me. "He's not your brother
anymore... he's... a zombie."

	Once again Jamie cast his eyes downward mournfully. In all his time
hiding from his brother in the closet he'd cried himself dry, and now no
longer had any tears to spend. "I know," he told me softly, breaking my
heart all over again. "But..." he looked around the room frantically and
huddled closer to me... "where is he now? He might come back!"

	"It's ok," I replied, "you don't have to worry about him. I... took
care of him earlier, outside..."

	He nodded, understanding. "But what about my sister?"

	No sooner were those words out of his mouth then I heard a loud
undead roar from behind me, and felt a strong, cold hand punch me in the
head from behind, sending me sprawling on the floor. "Hello, baby brother,"
a raspy yet distinctly female voice said. Jamie only whimpered and shank
away, back towards his closet. "No... stay out here..." the voice of the
female zombie purred, and stepped over my collapsed form in the direction
of my new friend.

"...Victoria..." he cries softly, wistfully, knowing that this was, and yet
was not, his sister. He glanced at her. His bright eyes full of fear and
stood unmoving right in her path.

"No!" I yelled lifting my leg up to kick her in the shin as she walked
by. It! I kept reminding myself. This is no longer a person anymore. It is
a thing. The girlzombie let out a yell mostly of anger, partially of
surprise, and fell flat on her face, mere inches from Jamie. It hissed and
swiftly turned back in my direction eager for revenge. But I was ready this
time and swung my axe around in a wide arc to prevent her from getting too
close. Leaping to my feet I took the offensive, closing in on her with my
deathly blade. "Jamie, get back in the closet," I warned him but he just
stood there, transfixed by the epic battle.

Finally I stopped hesitating and lunged for the she-beast, bringing the axe
down towards its head. With a slight shriek, it lifted an arm to deflect
the blow. The fingers on its left hand were cut clean off by my weapon and
went scattering over the floor. Her goal was achieve though... instead of
cutting it brain in two, my axe merely left a thick cut, stretching from
the zombie's right eye, to the left hand corner of its mouth.

Alone and unaided the undead thing that had been Victoria realize it had
not a chance in Hell of defeating my axe, and so with a final angry hiss in
my direction, she leaped out of my axe's reach and took off down the
hallway from which I had entered the room. The spell of her sister now
broken. Jamie walked over and reached out to me. "You hurt her... is she
gonna die now?"

"No." I stated through angry, bared teeth. My heart pounding hard from
excitement and terror. "Haven't you seen any horror movies? If you want to
kill a zombie it needs a blow to the head... ya gotta hit the brain. That
will kill it, for good this time."

"Why's that?"

"Why do zombies eat brains? Who the fuck knows? It just will, and I'm not
in a position to be questioning that." I ran to the doorway to see Victoria
running for dear life, so to speak. "Get back in your closet... I wanna
take care of her now." Timidly he agreed, not wanting to be alone, but
fully aware that the alternative was being dead. "I'll come back for
you..." I told him as he closed the door. "I promise."

With wings on my feet I flew down the corridor after the zombie sister,
just in time to see her run up the flight of stairs I hadn't even noticed
on my way in. "I have you now, biotch," I muttered. Once upstairs she'd
have no place to run to. Again I ran faster then I thought possible up the
stairs hot on her trail. I wasn't about to let anyone threaten somebody as
lovely as Jamie and get away. Especially not a fucking zombie. Doubly
especially not a fucking GIRL zombie.

When I got to the top of the stairs I saw another hallway, this one with
three doors branching off of it, each one with a name plaque. It was hard
to read them in the dark without getting especially close to the words. The
first one read 'David...' I assumed that was the elder brother, the zombie
I had already smacked. My tension grew as I read the name on the second
door... 'Victoria.' I tightened my grip on the axe and prepared to kick
down the door with my thick combat boot when out of the corner of my eye I
noticed the third door, the 'Jamie' door... it was slightly ajar, rocking
gently. That had to be where she was!

Swiftly and impetuously I kicked open the door and scanned back and forth,
looking for the zombie. Jamie had a rather nice room... no signs on
violence at all. On the far left wall sat a tall, oaken dresser with a
framed picture sitting atop it, and on the other side sat his bed nicely
made with bright white sheets. His walls were decorated with posters from
various bands and movies and I could see a small bookshelf sitting next to
his bed with a large window on the far wall. What I could not see, however,
was Victoria.

"Hiding?" I asked sardonically, at the empty room. "Where are you, ya lousy
worm-eaten whore?!" I crept in and peered under the bed... nothing there
but a small box under there, no undead sister at all, and no junk,
either. Jamie must be particularly meticulous, I thought. I mean, under my
bed I kept all sorts of crap, like trash, comic books, old soda cans, and
porn...

Porn... hmmm... It occurred to me to wonder what was in this box of
Jamie's. Sure I was being nosy and this was none of my business but so
what? I had just saved the kid from becoming a one-course dinner for his
wormbait sister! The way I saw it after what I'd been through I had the
right to know! And what harm would it do? Besides, there was no way Jamie
would ever find out... the hunt for Victoria could sure wait fifteen
seconds. Once I was through rationalizing I dropped back down to one knee
and pulled out the box.

I glanced worriedly around the room before opening it up, afraid that the
sister might had materialized while I wasn't looking. Convinced that she
hadn't I pulled the top of the box and my eyes were met with a magazine
with two large letters - XY - at the top and pictures of, I was surprised
to see, skimpily clothed guys decorating the cover. Incredulously I took
the first on of the top on the box and sure enough, beneath that were many
others. Jamie liked this sort of thing? Alright! Despite the horrible
slaughter and death and violence that had become a way of life for me, I
was starting to feel kinda lucky.

As I put the top back on the box and slid it back under the bed, a familiar
smell began to pervade my nostrils... death... zombies... here! I tried to
stand up and turn around but it was no use, I was smacked across the face
from behind, the sudden shock sending my sprawling across the room again,
dropping my axe in the process. "Liked what you saw there, did you?" came
that horrible zombie voice again, ripping up my ears. I groaned, the pain
in my head growing, and reached for my axe, but Victoria had already gotten
to it. "Looking for this?" she asked, and gave me a sickly undead
grin. "It's mine now."

Quickly as I could I jumped up to my feet and backed away from the wide
arcs of her axe swings, until I could go no further - I was pinned against
the far wall with no escape in sight. Or was there? Beside me I saw the
large window... maybe if I could jump out I could make my escape! But my
hopes were shattered as soon as a glanced outside... there was quite a long
drop down to earth. There was no question that I would survive the
fall... however, fighting zombies is difficult to do with a broken arm.

With inhuman fury, Victoria swung the axe again at my head. But in her
scrawny arms the axe became unwieldy and her attack was powerful and
accurate, but slow. I easily ducked the blow and with a loud thunk, the axe
became imbedded in the wall behind where my head had been. Hissing
violently the zombie tried its best to pull it out, but to no avail; it was
stuck fast. Now I was back to unarmed combat... there had to be some way
for me to get the upper hand! Still snarling, the zombie struck, raking its
nails across my face before I could deflect the blow.

Pain shot through my face and I stumbled backwards blindly grabbing my head
in my hands. Before I had the chance to recoil it back-handed me, her blow
connecting squarely to my jaw. The taste of blood filled my mouth and the
zombie's cackle for triumphant filled my ears. The giddy, gloating evil
laughter was more then I could take and with a sudden burst of anger, I
swung my right hand back in a powerful punch that connected with it face
with a sharp crack. It stumbled backwards and I swung again with my left
fist, sending Victoria sprawling against the window. Seeing my chance I
lined up a powerful kick right to its gut.

It groaned once the kick connected, and feel backwards with incredible
force, shattering the window and falling out the broken hole. "No!" it
screamed as it fell, thrashing its arms and legs about wildly as if that
might halt it's decent. With a sickening thud it crashed to the ground
where it lay motionless. I rushed over to the window and stuck my head
out... was it dead? It couldn't have been. No fuckin' way one little fall
like that would kill a zombie... especially if it didn't even land on it's
head.

Sure enough, after just a brief moment, the body twitched and stirred and
eventually rose. Victoria got to her feet and scampered away into the
night, away from the house. Would she come back later for both me and
Jamie? With a grunt of effort I pulled my axe from the wall. "If she
does..." I muttered out the window, into the moist night air, "...I'll be
ready."

With a little bit of a skip in my step, I exited the room and jumped down
the stairs, wiping the blood off my face with the back of my hand as I did
so. I had got halfway down the hallway when I stopped short, and thought a
moment. Sure, Jamie and I'd have to leave this house... but that could wait
until later. It was still pouring outside, and now that Victoria had left
this house was as safe as any other on the street. We could stay the night
here, and leave in the morning. "Perfect!" I whispered to myself, and
turned on my heels. If we were gonna be staying here the night, we'd need
food, water... and a few other things.

Maybe ten more minutes had passed when I returned to Jamie's closet with a
whole bag of stuff I had gathered elsewhere in his house and gently rapped
on the door with my knuckles. "It's me, Jamie," I assured him and he pushed
the door open gently, admitting me inside. "Hi," he whispered breathlessly,
still quite a bit shaken up after all he had been through.

The closet that was know our refuge was large, more a pantry then anything
else. However it was completely empty, devoid of everything except me,
Jamie, my axe, and the bag I had brought. "I stopped off at the kitchen,
got some stuff to eat," I told him while displaying the bag. "You hungry,
dude?"

He ignored my question. "Are you hurt?" he asked, staring at my face. I
remembered the cuts his sister had given me. I reached up to feel them.
Once again they were wet with blood and I lifted my shirt up all the way to
my chest to wipe it off.

"This? Naw, it's just a scratch, it'll be fine." That was the truth; the
wounds weren't deep at all. But they sure did hurt... I dabbed again with
my shirt and then decided the hell with it. I ripped the shredded, bloody
thing right off my back and pressed it to my face, applying pressure.

For a moment Jamie looked back at me, ann expression of concern for my well
being passing over his beautiful features, and then, convinced I would be
fine, he turned his eyes towards my bag of food. "What did you get?" he
asked. His voice still meek and soft. Musical sounding to me. I turned to
the bag and started pulling stuff out at random.

"Here's some bread," I said, tossing him a loaf. "And some celery, and a
coupla slices of some kinda cold cut... your fridge was kinda empty, heh,
not much chance to go to the grocery store with zombies invading the town
huh? heheh," I rambled, throwing food items at him all the while. "The milk
looked rancid so I didn't touch it, but here's a jug of tap water, it's
important to be fully hydrated while fighting the evil dead... I also
grabbed some fruit even though it looked kinda old, and your gay porn mags
from upstairs," I added, all in the same monotone, "thought it might be fun
to have them around... oh, and here's some more bread..."

My voice trailed off as the bag was now empty, and turned my head in
Jamie's direction. He was looking at me as if I had turned into a zombie.
Had I fucked up? Naw, I thought. It would be kewl... I moved closer to him,
staring into his eyes. They were the coolest color I had ever seen, dancing
swirls of an icy blue against the backdrop of a pure, pure white. I wanted
to let him know everything was gonna be alright with both the zombies and
the magazines. That I would be there to protect him from the undead and
even to love him. If he would let me. Again I moved closer, his expression
softening a little. I opened my mouth a little to speak to say everything I
needed to say, but no words came out. Instead I leaned forward, just
slightly so much, and he did the same. Slowly, we came closer and closer
together until our lips met finally in a kiss.

He was wearing a light blue button-down jammie top, stained and splotched
here and there with blood My hands moved to the buttons, undoing them one
by one. At first he just kissed me back but when I got to the last button
and started sliding off the shirt he hesitated breaking off the kiss
nervously. "We shouldn't do this," he murmured anxiously, clearly not
meaning the words.

"Why not?" I asked throatily, not stopping, pulling him closer, running my
hands over his back lovingly.

Still pulling away gently, he replied, "The zombies..."

"Fuck the zombies," I stated flatly. I pulled him closer to me again,
rejoining our lips in another kiss and pulling him down on top of me to the
soft carpeting of the closet floor. He finally finished shedding his
unbuttoned shirt himself and now began wriggling out of his pants, his warm
mouth pressed to mine the whole time. That out of the way my hands ran down
his unclothed sides to his ass, cupping the two twin globes in my hands,
squeezing gently.

His own hands when down to my belt undoing it awkwardly pulling my own
pants down to my ankles. My cock already hard from having a naked Jamie
rubbing against me, sprang up immediately and pressed comfortably against
his own. I heard Jamie moan gently against my mouth, into the kiss, and
then felt him remove his mouth from mine moving it down my neck down my
chest, torso, and then down lower...

Feeling his hot breath on my cock I nearly came right there. But I held on
as I felt his tongue begin to lap at my head. I shuddered pleasurably and
then again as I felt his soft, moist lips purse around my shaft moving
downward towards the base slowly. With his left hand he reached upwards and
grabbed my ass while he wrapped his right around the base of my cock.
Gently moaning, I grasped the back of Jamie's head with my hands holding it
tightly to my cock feeling truly wonderful for the first time in my
life. But again my young friend shifted position again, moving upward on my
body straddling my hips. His soft thighs pressed against my sides and his
pucker poised above my saliva-lubricated cock invitingly. Slowly, he
lowered himself onto me. I felt my cock press against his tight pucker
resisting gently.

All of a sudden he push himself down all the way with one powerful thrust
and a slight gentle groan. I gasped pleasurably from surprise, biting down
on my lip to keep from coming immediately. I wrapped my hands around
Jamie's sides and pulled him closer and into my kiss. He responded
immediately thrusting his tongue into my mouth and bouncing his hips up and
down, slowly but steadily.

Eventually I held Jamie groan pleasurably into my mouth and felt him spurt
all over my torso and I could take not more... the contractions of his ass
muscles and my young lover's moans pushed me over the edge and I too came
more powerful and pleasurable than anything my right hand had ever given
me. More than that, it was the greatest feeling I had ever known, even
better than killing zombies.

Now that we were both finished I pulled out and he rolled off me, never
breaking the kiss. We stayed in that position long and long until
eventually, weary from the day's events and the sex Jamie broke the kiss,
rolled over and fell asleep. When he did I smiled briefly then got to my
feet. I wiped the Jamiejuice from my torso and pulled my pants back on. I
picked up the axe and slung it over my shoulder, then set to work guarding
the closet door. It would be a long night, fraught with undead creatures
and evil peril and Jamie needed me to watch over him... I was damned if I
was gonna let the zombies get him now.

                 EDITED BY CHARLIE A.K.A. CHUCKLEZ ME BAD!!

*******


That's it... sorry if you didn't like it, thanks if you did, if you feel
like giving me some feedback (pleasepleaseplease i'll be your friend) then
you can either post a relpy here or e-mail me or ICQ me pleeeease *begs*
Thanks in advance if you do, thanks just for reading this if you don't,
seey'all later.

Jeff
AKA Cold Mouse
cold_mouse@daniels-domain.de
OR kalte_maus@gmx.de
ICQ #: 26677504