Wesley and the Sex Zombies by Portia Da Costa Read Free Book Online

WESLEY AND THE SEX ZOMBIES
    It was nearly midnight and Wesley Greensward was a disappointed man. He wasn't where he wanted to be, or doing what he wanted to be doing, and this grungy motorway services' café was the ideal place to feel sorry for oneself. Fate had taken two mean and spiteful swipes at him today and he felt thoroughly entitled to be miserable.
    Swipe Number One: at ultra-short notice his firm had seconded him to their dreary northern outpost. A massive computer catastrophe had required the immediate presence of the company's top software wizard -- yours truly, Wesley Greensward. Remote diagnostics had been deemed impractical, hence the mile-burning overnight journey when he'd been looking forward to a weekend of consolidating his precarious sexual relationship with Lindy.
    Oh God, he was getting aroused even now, in this horrid place, as he thought of their last -- and first -- night together. The degree of her "experience" had been an almighty shock to him, but who was he to argue with a woman who could suck his penis like a lollipop and still manage to grin gleefully at the same time? She had made him feel totally helpless but in an odd sort of way, he had liked it; especially when she was gulping down his semen.
    Unfortunately though, Lindy was fickle, and had a whole stable of admirers. Even now, she would probably be sucking the fortunate cock of Wesley's immediate rival, an obnoxious martial arts expert who worked in the office next to his.
    But the second swipe was the one that had hurt the most.
    He had received a phone call this morning from his best friend Ethan, saying that the "grand project" was off. The fantasy magazine they'd always dreamed of publishing together. In the scrapper before it was even launched. Now, no-one would read Wesley's weird but cherished stories -- or head-hunt his literary talents for bigger and better things.
    There was a woman behind it, of course.
    Ethan had been full of her. "Serena this", "Serena that", and lots of sighs and gasps down the phone. Instead of the magazine, he was going to devote himself solely to drawing his lady love.
    Wesley's first reaction had been acute genital jealousy -- because his instincts for that sort of thing had told him that Ethan's ragged breathing and disjointed speech had a lot to do with the lip-smacking pleasures that Wesley himself had rarely enjoyed before Lindy.
    His second reaction was a bitter sense of being let down. He and Ethan had been mates, and the magazine something of a holy quest, and now -- suddenly -- a case of overactive hormones had snatched everything clean away. The worst of it was he couldn't really feel angry with Ethan.
    Bloody hell, I would probably have done the same thing myself!
    Glumly, he doodled in a pile of spilt sugar. Then, as even his sugary pattern went wrong, Wesley suddenly smelt a rather pungent and overpowering perfume. Twitching his nostrils, he looked up to locate its source, and saw approaching him what was probably the most gorgeous and unusual apparition ever to grace the Woolley Edge Services Cafeteria. He blinked furiously. Making a royal progress amongst the tables was a creature as tall and voluptuous as she was bizarre: a quintessentially female vision of night-dark eyes, creamy-white skin, scarlet lips, and hair colored the very precise bloody-purple of a glass of Beaujolais Nouveau. Her breasts were high and deliciously pointed, her waist was narrow and her legs were supernaturally long. Quite a lot of their smooth, pale length could be seen too, because the mystery woman was clad in what could only be described as designer rags; a soft filmy frock all slashed and cut in a selection of provocative places. Beside her was a being appeared to be her slave -- a disturbingly pretty young man with a platinum blond buzz-cut and an equally eccentric taste in clothes.
    Wesley was bewitched. He gaped at the fantastic couple, and then silently laughed at himself. They were just a pair of cleaner