Lukewarm Wife
Enjoying the naughty adventures of my zombie spouse
My wife Julia was always the hottest woman in the room. She’s still a stone-cold fox, but now that she’s dead, her body is barely room temperature. The good news is she still loves to fuck.
If anything, her sexual appetite is more intense now than it was when her heart was still beating. That’s because zombies can actually sustain themselves by eating cum instead of brains if they so choose. Why don’t more of them do this?
My guess is most of them are so nasty-looking that nobody ever wants to fuck them. It’s sad if you think about it. Luckily, Julia died when she was at her physical peak — she was shot by a mugger on her way home from winning first place at a beauty pageant. I resurrected her just two hours later using one of my wishes from the monkey’s paw I found.
Not everyone has access to a monkey’s paw, and when a resurrection is left up to a necromancer, the results can vary wildly. It takes some of these hacks almost a year to bring a person back from the dead, and by then, the body can be in pretty rough shape.
Though her skin has lost its lush color, it’s still smooth and tight. Her lips are black, but they’re as full as ever, and they still feel amazing wrapped around my cock. Even her plump tits have managed to maintain their perfect teardrop shape.
She covers the bullet hole in her chest with the locket I gave her, which contains a picture of the two of us on our wedding day.
It’s all very romantic. I just wish I could keep up with her libido. Honestly, though, I don’t mind that she gets some of her meals from outside sources. It’s certainly preferable to her murdering people for their brains.
Plus, it kind of turns me on to watch her guzzle other men’s cum.
Normally, she finds her bulls in college bars. The young ones have such big loads, and some of them can even cum twice in one sitting. The problem is their jizz doesn’t always taste so good on account of their poor diets and all the drugs they do.
Comic book conventions are good, too, because many of these nerds are zombie fetishists. Plus, a lot of them have life-sized sex dolls, so they’re used fucking things that don’t have a pulse. Last week, she dressed up as a White Walker for a Game of Thrones cosplayer who wanted to lose his virginity before his 30th birthday. Apparently, his load tasted like buttery mashed potatoes.
Today, she decided to take a chance and find a guy on Tinder. This can be risky because, until someone sees her in person, they really don’t know what they’re getting into. They could freak out when they hold her hand for the first time, or feel how chilly her pussy is.
Julia chooses a divorcee named Rick who has recently started dating again. Though at least a decade older than she is, he’s quite handsome, with a strong jawline and a decent head of hair.
When asked how he felt about the whole zombie thing, he joked that Julia couldn’t possibly be any colder than his bitch of an ex-wife. The comment was kind of offensive, but Julia isn’t the sensitive type, so she let it slide and invited him over anyway.
And then he shows up to the house with a bouquet of dead roses; black and falling off their stems. Not funny at all.
“Here,” he says, slapping me in the chest with the bouquet. “Go put these in water.”
I drop them right in the trash.
He looks Julia up and down, his eyes lingering on her tits, which are popping out the top of her tight red dress. The vividness of her outfit highlights the dullness of her skin.
“I’m Julia,” she says, offering her hand. “And this is my husband Buckley. Welcome to our home.”
“I’m Rick. Great to finally meet you.” He inspects her lean, gray fingers like a jeweler appraising a diamond. “You are gorgeous,” he says, kissing her hand.
“Thank you,” she says.
He’s already ignoring me, which is how I like it. It means I won’t have to watch from the closet.
Julia leads the way upstairs, with Rick following at a distance so he can admire her perfect ass. I can’t blame him. I do that pretty much every time.
Though it’s a mild spring day, the heat is on in our bedroom to keep Julia’s flesh as warm as possible — not for herself, but for her bull. Sweat forms on Rick’s brow immediately, and he takes off his stone-washed denim jacket.
Underneath is a plain black t-shirt that may have once fit him but is now too tight in the belly area. He must have stopped working out since his profile picture was taken.
“So how does this work?” he asks. “Do we, like, have a drink first? Get to know each other or whatever?”
She laughs. “Do you talk to the cow before you drink its milk?”
“Uh, I don’t follow — ”
She shoves her tongue into his mouth before he can finish his sentence. It’s a hard, sustained kiss that can only be initiated by someone who doesn’t need to breathe. By the time she lets him go, he’s gasping for air.
“Wow,” he says, running his cigar-like fingers over his lips. “That was weird.”
“Good weird or bad weird?” she asks.
“Don’t know yet. Let’s try it again.”
I take a seat in my recliner as the two continue to make out. They paw at each other until her hand reaches his growing bulge.
“I guess it can’t be that weird,” she says. “Or at least your little friend doesn’t seem to think so.”
She drops to her knees and undoes his pants. His cock is protruding through the fly in his boxers, already pointing to the ceiling. She strokes him and he continues to grow until he taps out at the six-inch mark.
Not terrible, but not very impressive. You might expect me to feel a boost of confidence whenever my wife’s bull turns out to have a smaller cock than me, but I’m always a little bummed.
In a way, dicks are just lunchboxes to her. Containers that hold her next meal. But it’s not just about the cum. The carnal act itself satiates her almost as much as the bodily fluids she consumes. Before you fill her belly, she wants you to fill her pussy.
But this guy’s size is the least of his problems. As she’s pulling down his boxers, his cock goes off like a Roman candle. Precious cum soaks into the cotton before it ever reaches her mouth.
Her deadpan stare betrays her disappointment before she has a chance to reassure him.
“Shit!” he says. “That’s uh… that’s never happened before.” He glances at me in his periphery, suddenly remembering that another man just witnessed his epic fail. “But you’re probably used to it anyway, right? I’m sure it happens to your pathetic husband all the time.”
“Actually, Buckley can go all night.” She reaches a finger into his wet boxers, scoops out a dollop of salty pudding, then sucks her finger clean.
He pulls away from her. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“No sense in letting it go to waste.” She gets on all fours and starts licking drops of his cum from the floor.
“That’s nasty. You know, it’s your fault that I came so fast. You got me all messed up in the head because you’re a fucking zombie. Also, your husband is watching. I mean, what kind of man lets his wife fuck other guys in front of him?”
“Why’d you have to go there, man?” I say, rising from the recliner. Whatever boner I had a moment ago is long gone as the blood rushes to my fists. “That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, well, she’s a ghoul.”
I take a step towards him, but Julia holds up her hand.
“Alright fellas, let’s all just calm the eff down.” She continues to clean the floor with her tongue as she speaks. “Buckley, you’re very sweet, but I’m ok. He’s right, though, Rick. You are being a dick. I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Fine,” he says. But as he’s attempting to pull up his pants, he slips and lands face-first into a puddle of his own cum.
Julia bursts into hysterical laughter.
“Shut the fuck up, you dead bitch!” he yells as he makes his way awkwardly to his feet.
But his anger only makes her laugh harder. Tears (which her body still produces for some reason) stream down her cheeks. And as laughter is contagious, I soon join in on the hysterics.
That all becomes too much for Rick to take, and he hauls off and kicks Julia square in the jaw. She crumbles to the floor.
“You asshole!” I charge him and knock him back onto our bed.
As we struggle, he grabs the porcelain lamp from the nightstand and smashes it over my head. Dazed, I drop like a sack of potatoes next to my wife.
Drifting in and out of consciousness, I see blurs of motion and hear a series of loud thuds. I feel the impact of a sharp kick to the stomach, but mostly, I’m numb. At some point, Rick’s yelling stops and the only sound I hear is chewing.
When I finally come to, Julia is on top of Rick with a beard of blood on her face. It’s not hers.
She pauses when she sees me stir. “Are you ok?” she asks with her mouth full.
The pain in my ribs intensifies when I try to sit up. “I’m a little sore, but I’ll be ok in a minute.”
She burps and returns her attention to Rick’s wide-open skull.
“So…what exactly happened?” I ask.
“He went crazy and tried to kill us. He actually had a gun with him. I don’t know if that would even hurt me, but it definitely would have been bad news for you, and I wasn’t going to take any chances.”
As I watch my undead wife feast, it occurs to me that it wasn’t just watching her have sex that turned me on so much. It was seeing her happy. Stimulated. Excited.
Sure, she’s excited when she’s fucking me, but there’s something about being removed from it and viewing it from the outside that’s so fucking hot. Seeing that gleam in her eye as she devours Rick’s brain is giving me a raging erection.
She pauses again. “Given the condition of the body, do you think anyone is going to believe this was self-defense?”
“It’s the truth, so why shouldn’t they believe it? But let’s not worry about that now.” I climb onto the bed and unzip my fly. “Finish your meal. Just make sure you save room for dessert.”
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