Hell, she was just a kid. She didn't deserve any of this. None of us did. I felt a wrench of regret as I watched her reload the shotgun and poke her head out for another blast.

I had to give it to her, though. For a kid, she handled herself pretty well. Too bad we were all fucked anyway.

"I'm almost out of ammo!" she said, a warning rising in her voice.

"Me too," I shot back. I didn't need to check the ammo pouch at my belt. Everything I had left was already in the gun.

"We can't hold here, not any longer," I said, "follow me. This way!"

"Where are we going?" She asked. She did a good job of masking her fear.

"Up." I replied. I came around the corner firing and screaming. The two zombies blocking my path bit the bloody dust, and I threw open the security door behind them. I shoved her through and closed it behind me. I'd managed to filch some keys earlier, and used them to lock it.

She looked past me and asked, "Micheal?" with just a hint of a quaver in her throat.

I shook my head, leaning against the door, and tried to wipe hair out of my eyes. I wound up with a streak of blood across my forehead. I said, "I saw him go down, back by the supermarket. It's just you and me now."

She didn't say a thing.

"C'mon," I said, starting up the stairs. Soon we came out onto the rooftop. The air was sick with the heavy scent of pollution and blood, but it was better up here than down there. It was one of those cement rooftops, with low, thick cement walls, and a few odd protrusions that may be something related to air conditioning. It was almost night-time.

She was good. She immediately scouted the perimeter, shotgun at the ready.

I was lazy. I collapsed against a wall. When she came back she said, "It's all clear. We should be safe here for now."

I started to laugh, "Yeah, safe! Tell me that one again."

She tensed with anger and said, "What, you don't trust me? Where do you think they can get in?"

I shook my head, "That's not the point. Where do we go from here?"

The wind picked up, brushing her hair across her face. For a moment, I almost couldn't bear to look at her. Then she started to laugh too, "Fuck me. I guess this is it."

She slid against the wall beside me. Before I said a word, she touched my hand. I felt strangely pedophiliac, being almost twice her age, but I admit, it felt nice.

"Are we going to die up here?" she looked right at me with her clear, blue eyes.

I looked right back and said, "It's been three days. We had a good run."

Before she could respond, I reached into my pack and pulled out a bottle of Captain Morgan's and some strawberry-flavored mixer.

"It's not a proper strawberry daiquiri, and we don't have any cups..."

"Where the hell did you get that?" she slapped my shoulder, grinning.

I shrugged, "You said you always wanted a strawberry daiquiri. I picked it up in the supermarket a few hours ago."

She didn't respond right away. I could hear her thinking that even then, I knew it would come to this. But she didn't say it.

"Cheers," I clanked the two bottles together and said, "Open wide!"

She started laughing, and opened her mouth quickly, ducking to get away from the bottles I lifted over her head. I poured, missing her mouth and pouring it all over her. She pulled back, laughing and swallowing and choking all at the same time. She finally got it down her throat and fell into me, laughing.

"Alright, all right, your turn! Gimme those!" She snatched the bottles away, and poured the pair into my mouth. It was my turn to laugh and choke and swallow.

After a while, leaning against each other and getting drowsy, she touched my arm and said, "Is there anything you've always wanted?"

"Anything at all?" I asked.

"Anything," she said quietly. I could tell from her voice she meant anything.

Something sprung into my mind immediately, and my cock sprung up just thinking it. Could it...? Nah. Hell of a thing to spring on a girl on your last day on earth.

On the other hand, what have I got to lose?

"It's perverted," I joked.

She was silent for a long moment, then she said quietly, "I don’t mind."

"I've never told anyone this before."

"Tell me!"

I took a deep breath and said, "Well, I've always had this fantasy. It's about my penis..."

I looked down at her. She looked back up at me, her eyes mystical and inviting. She said quietly, "Go on."

"It's wierd, um... I've always thought the most hot thing would be... would be to have a beautiful girl cut it off."

There was a moment of stunned silence, then she slapped my shoulder, laughing, and said, "Cut it out. What do you really want?"

"Ow! Hey... no, that's it. I'm not kidding."

She didn't reply right away, so I went on, "I didn't think I would ever do it, 'cause I like having it so much, but the thought has always been pretty exciting. I figure if I'm about to die, anyway... I mean, what the hell?"

She made a little face and said again, "Really? Why?"

I shrugged, "Who can account for fantasy?"

She giggled and reached between my legs, where I noticed a distinct bulge had grown in the past few minutes. She touched it, causing me to groan, and asked, "Is that why you're so hard now? Just from telling me?"

I couldn't believe this was really happening. I breathed, "Yeah... I mean hell, it's too bad you lost your last knife out there, because fuck--if you had one right now, I would really want you to do it to me."

She pulled up the torn remains of the skirt she was still wearing to reveal a wicked little knife strapped to her inner thigh. She deftly unclasped it with one hand and brought it to bear, saying, "A good girl never loses her last knife."

"Oh my god," I said, my cock springing suddenly to full, raging erection under the light touch of her fingers. I swallowed hard, moving my lips, but nothing came out.

She brushed the knife gently over the bulge in my pants, stroking me through my clothing with it, teasing me. Every muscle in my body was tense. She said, "It really does turn you on..."

I tried to speak again, but only a squeak came out. Mustering my courage, I swallowed again, thinking of my cock, remembering fucking with it, remembering getting blowjobs. A third time I tried to speak, and this time the words came out, "Would you... do it? Fuck me--please?"

"Fuck you? Is that what you want?" She said teasingly.

"No, I mean!"

"What do you want?" She brought the knife up, kissing it playfully.

"Would you... please... cut off my penis?" I croaked. My pulse was pounding, and my dick was harder than I could ever remember it being before.

She pinched it hard through my pants, feeling the tension in it. She shrugged and said, "I don't see why not. I mean, I don't get it but, hey, if that's what you really want."

"Oh god... fuck, please? I need it! I've needed it for so long..."

She touched the knife to her lips as if to say, "shhh," while her other hand unbuttoned my shirt down to the waist. She slowly slid the knife down my chest and belly, then bit it gently into my jeans, right alongside the bulge in my pants. I nearly creamed myself right then, and she giggled at my reaction.

Slowly she unbuttoned my pants. Her small, feminine fingers reached inside to pull out my member, which lengthened rapidly now that it was free. She touched it a bit like it was foreign to her, examining it, exploring it. I quickly swelled under her touch, soon coming to full mast.

"Wow," she said naturally, "it's so big."

"Ah, that feels great. Keep doing it, just like that."

Her hands looked very small against my erection, but I was used to seeing my own there. This is it, buddy, I said mentally to myself, looking down at it, the end of the road. And a good end it is.

She shook her head and asked, "Are you sure about this?"

I nodded, saying, "I've dreamed of this day since I got my first little boy erections, longer ago than I care to remember. I only never thought I'd end up with a sexy little thing like you doing it. I thought I'd end up as a withered old 80 year old getting some wrinkled gramma to do it before I died."

"Men are wierd," she shook her head, then said, "Hang on, let me go grab my medkit." By the time she got back, I had softened a bit, but not much. As she sat down again, she asked, "How much of it do you want me to cut off?" she asked.

"The whole thing," I answered, "Get as much as you can. You can push the whole length of it out, like this," With just a couple of strokes under her watchful eye, I reached my full, protuberant length, and then I demonstrated by pushing down the flesh on either side of it and thrusting my hips, to make it stick out all the way. It stuck out, rigid and tense and throbbing under her gaze. This was just how I'd always wanted it.

"Jesus," she murmured, "It gets even bigger."

I pointed at the place at the base, groaning softly, and said, "There, if you cut it off just at the bottom like that, you can get the whole length of it. Every last inch."

She readjusted, moving to sit between my legs, where she could get better access.

"I need a third hand," she said, trying to juggle holding my cock, pressing down the skin around it, and holding the knife all at the same time.

"You could use your mouth," I suggested, my breath almost catching in my throat.

She started to open her mouth, then reddened. So quietly I almost couldn’t hear her, she whispered, "I've never had one in my mouth before..."

"What, seriously? You?"

"You know what, shut the fuck up! It's none of your goddam business! Do you want me to do this thing or not?"

"Alright, sorry! Jeez. I just, the way you act... I assumed."

"Yeah, everybody sees what they want to see. It's going down, is that good?"

"Sorry, I got distracted. Look, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's fine. I can die with it still a fantasy."

"No, I want to," she shook her head, stroking it absently with one hand, "I want to make you happy."

I groaned softly, rolling my head back. She grinned and said, "It's getting bigger again."

"Oh yeah--keep doing that!"

She teased me with the knife, using her other hand to give it long, langorous strokes. She had a natural talent for this. I closed my eyes, moaning softly. Suddenly I felt a soft kiss on the head, and then lips engulfing it, a tongue swirling. I gasped in pleasure.

"Can I bite it?" she asked, grinning, "I like biting!"

"Yes, yes! Bite it as hard as you like! Bite it off if you want to!"

She took it in her mouth and bit down, sudden, sharp and hard. I yelped in pain and cried out, "Ow--not on the head please, the head is too sensitive!"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm about to cut it off!"

"I'm into penectomy, not pain! It's just the head. Bite as hard as you like, honestly. Just bite on the shaft; it's sturdier."

"'Kay," she said, then slowly took the length of it into her innocent mouth while I watched. She met my eyes, cocking her head naughtily. I couldn't see the movement of her jaw until it was too late--I just felt the explosion of taught teeth on my shaft. It was like she was biting it off. I actually thought she might have, until I felt her tongue swirling on the head. Then she let go.

There were deep, red teeth marks on it, almost halfway down. For an amateur, she had good reach.

"Good, strong jaw there," I moaned, my erection throbbing.

She examined the bite marks, then said cheerfully, "I've never had anyone tell me to bite as hard as I wanted before. I guess if you're going to cut it off in a second, it doesn't matter if you cause damage, does it?"

"No, I guess not," I groaned, while she lowered her mouth around it again. Even so, her next bite took me by surprise. It was hard and sudden and sharp--but more than that, it was deep. I cried out in pain and pleasure, but I was left wincing.

"Okay--okay, I think I've had enough of that. I want to lose it, not have it tortured to death!"

She giggled and said, "Sorry. Let me make it feel nice again, first." She took it in her mouth, softly this time, swirling her tongue around the head. She used her left hand to stroke it, while the right lifted the knife.

When I saw the knife, my erection instantly popped to full mast again. In a throaty voice, I said, "I'm ready when you are."

"What does it feel like?" she asked, stroking it.

"It feels incredible," I breathed, "but i can't wait to see it cut off. I don't know why. I just want it cut off so badly... I'm desperate. Will you really do it?"

"Sure," she nodded accomodatingly and lifted the knife to it, positioning the knife with a cute look of concentration.

I jerked my head up to ask, "Can you do it in one slice? I don't think I can stand more than one."

She gave me a withering look and said, "I've been cutting up zombies for three days, I promise I can chop your prick off in one go."

"Okay, good..." I let my head drift back, but kept my eyes on my full erection. Every nerve there was alive—but only for a moment longer.

Again, she struggled with having enough hands, until finally she took the head in her mouth to hold it still. Holding the knife with one hand, she pushed in the skin with her other, while i thrust my hips out to make it stick out (and shoving the head deeper into her mouth.)

She bit tightly to hold it steady. Then she caught my eye, looking up (in an adorable way to do so), and grunted a questioning, "mmph?"

I nodded, "Yes. Fuck yes! Cut my cock off! Please--It's yours!"

I looked down just before she cut, taking in that perfect, precious moment in which my last erection was full and throbbing, a long, stiff rod, the end embedded in her mouth. Her delicate hand held the knife poised to strike.

Suddenly, motion. Her shoulder jerked, and she brought the knife hard and fast slashing through the base of my cock. Hell, she knew how to use a knife. I was more erect than I had ever been before, and my rock-hard cock didn't even slow down that knife. In one slash, it was gone.

She pulled back, and with a mild feeling of shock I saw the white flesh of my most sensitive, sexual organ pull away with her, dangling from her mouth. I could feel nothing. The seconds seemed to drag as the space between my groin and my penis grew farther and farther, and in that moment, I couldn't help remembering all the times that I had cum with that flesh, spasming, hot jets of semen squirting down the length of it. Never again would I feel that. Never again would I push myself into a woman. Never again would I get a blow job, or jerk off.

Then the pain kicked in, so intense it transcended pain, becoming something else entirely. I think I might have orgasmed, but I honestly couldn't say. I couldn't even cry out.

"You'll be fine," she said unsympathetically after spitting out my penis. She pulled up the med kit and said, "Just hold still while I cauterize it, before you bleed out."

I don't remember the next few moments. I think my memory whited them out. The next thing I do remember was a great rushing sound, like the beating of gigantic wings.

"An angel?" I murmured, trying to sit up. If it was an angel, it looked an awful lot like a helicopter.

A strong, military voice announced through a loudspeaker, "Citizens, we have come to evacuate you. If you have not yet turned, we have a cure! Please remain calm while we land the helicopter."

Fuck, what have I done? I thought to myself.

"Ummm..." she said, quickly shoving my severed penis into her bag. Then she looked up at me, brightening, and said, "At least this way I don't have to die a virgin!”

"You were a virgin?" I stammered.

"Still am," she nodded, "It's a bit of a shame. After everything we've been through together, I was kinda looking forward to having you for my first." She patted her bag and said, "I guess I'll have to find someone else now. You seemed more interested in, you know... chopping it off." She shrugged, "I didn't mind helping you out. I hope you liked it." She smiled and headed off toward the helicopter.

I stared after her, speechless.