Don/Dawn of the Dead

hour to hour even. If I wanted to be my bad ass self in BDU's with full tac gear, pistol and knife, then I would be. If I wanted to walk around in heels, hose and teddy and fuck myself in the ass with one of those big scented candles from the bath shop, why not? Chances were, I wasn't going to live that long anyway. Why in the fuck would I want to spend my last several months fearing the judgment of people who were all now dead... ish?

I won't bore you with the details but let's just say it was pretty exciting. I'd always thought about shaving my legs but there'd be no explaining it at the gym or to a new girlfriend. I wasn't a bodybuilder; I just liked to look good in my thigh highs. So when I actually sat down by the mall fountain and had a go with a razor, it was pretty exhilarating. From there I walked buck ass naked down to the lingerie shop and picked out what I liked: tall black heels with the little strap that goes around the ankle, black thigh highs with a seam up the back, a black teddy that was all lacy with little white bows on the front and a black curly wig off one of the mannequins. Over this went a short black one piece dress. And I even picked up a purse to carry my .45 in.

As time went on, I started visiting the department stores and working on my make up. I painted my nails and toes. I was sort of passable except I looked like a big chick... like a muscle chick. But I loved looking at my ass in the mirror. I'd stand with just my ass in the reflection and slowly slide the panties down. Then I'd take a big purple candle that I'd whittled a head onto and slowly start working it into my ass. Right as I was about to cum, I'd turn and shoot it all over the mirror.

Some days, I'd take my show down to the mall front doors. The Z's were always there looking in. They were all fucked up and I was glad I couldn't smell them through the glass. Eyes gouged out, limbs missing, clothes tore to shreds. There was one Z down by the south end whose pants had been torn off.