Nobody

Blacksox

"JESUS, KY, ARE YOU FUCKING AUTISTIC OR JUST FUCKING STUPID! PICK ME FUCKING UP, I'M RIGHT AT YOUR GODDAMN FEET, YOU COW PUNCHING RETARD!" Miss Lily-Rylee AKA BlackSox screamed at me from the front-room. She'd taken to calling me by the first two letters of my "gamer-tag" halfway through the first level of the game.

I hit the thumbstick, swiveling in place, shooting screaming zombies in the face with the shotgun as I did so.

"OH, NOW THE BOT'S SAVING ME! FUCK! NOW HE'S DOWN TOO! FOR FUCK'S SAKE, KY, STOP HOLDING YOUR DICK AND HELP US!" she yelled.

My character, a old Vietnam Vet named Bill, yelled he was reloading. I looked down, and sure as hell, her character, a woman named Zoey or something, was lying on the ground. I hit the button, yanking her to her feet like she was covered in molasses or stuck to the ground.

Right in time to have something grab me and drag me away.

"OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE! LEWIS! LEWIS! QUIT JACKING OFF WITH THE FUCKING DOOR AND... THAT'S RIGHT, YOU GODDAMN RETARD BOT, GET FRANCIS UP, NOT ME! JUST SAVE THE FUCKING OTHER BOT!" She screamed. "GODDAMN IT, KY, WILL YOU GET IN THE FUCKING SAFE ROOM ALREADY AND QUIT DICKING AROUND WITH THAT SMOKER?"

There was a coughing wheeze and I had control again.

"CHRIST, I HAD TO SAVE YOUR ASS AGAIN! HOW THE FUCK DID YOU SURVIVE REAL COMBAT, KY?" she shrieked.

I headed the character straight for the door and got in just in time for her to slam it.

Our score popped up. I'd been downed six times and killed twice.  Her tally for both read zero.

But I had killed more zombies that her, so... yay?

I set down the controller and walked out into the kitchen, looking over at the front room. She was sitting, on a pillow, cross legged. She had the headset on, the controller in her hands, and was dripping with sweat.

Oh, and she was only wearing her thong and short skirt.

"ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING LEAVE THE SAFE ROOM, KY, OR ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING LIVE THERE NOW?" She yelled. "ENJOY YOUR NEW FUCKING HOME!"

"Getting sun-tea," I said calmly.

She looked up, saw me, and squealed, dropping  the controller and covering her chest with one arm, grabbing for the shirt with the other.

"I need a break," I told her, pouring myself a new glass. "You're fine, it's hot out here."

"I, uh, didn't offend you, did I?" She asked me. She flushed and set down the shirt. "I get a little... um..."

"Aggressive?" I laughed. "No, you're fine. My hands just ache," I shook them out.

"Yeah, the X-Box controller is like trying to jerk off an angry bear," She said. She moved her arm, letting those big tits of hers hang free. They glistened with sweat and I stared for a second before turning away, blushing.

"Actually, let me just put on my shirt if we're going to take a break," She said. After a second she spoke again. "OK, I've got it on. Wanna sit on the couch?"

"Sure," I said, turning back around.

She didn't have her top on and had her tits in her hands. She jiggled them in her hands. "PILLS HERE!" she yelled.

I flushed, turning away again, then, after a second, turned and just looked at her.

They were nice. A little saggy, but hell, big tits always sagged when a woman got older. Didn't change the fact they were impressive as hell.