Isaac's beard, still wet from the melting snow, had been combed down his chin in a wet swath. Isaac was sitting on the floor, his round, wet manboobs still wet from the melting snow's water. He dried off the water with a towel, which then became wet.
Isaac gasped when he saw a reflection in his safe-house mirror. Twas not his spectre bride, Nicole, but a far more tangible specimen. Through the slightly open door, he caught a glimpse of the chiseled abs and square jaw of the mysterious stranger who shared his cabin. He stood and spun around, his juicy assmuffincheeks swinging heavily with the momentum. He grabbed the door and flung it open, revealing shirtless John Carver (which was seriously his name, and it's funny because he carves necromorphs and it looked like someone carved his face, which is kind of sexy) quivering with desire in the hallway. Sgt. Carver was ashamed at being caught, but his shame made him even hotter – hotter for sex.
John stepped into the room, and his bulging abs accidentally smushed into Isaac's rich chest hair. As Isaac's buttermilk muffinbutt squished up against his granite abs, John almost had a dick aneurysm. He popped a small health kit to guard against errant subdermal hematoma. His dick glowed green for a minute.
"Isaac," John murmured thickly, his throbbing meat wand pressing against Isaac's warm thighs. "There is a secret I need to not tell you: You are my forbidden desire."
Isaac had been waiting to hear these words. Ellie was hot, but she was just a bro, and after establishing her broness, Isaac found he had other urges. His heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. He saw himself and John happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. His rim got all warm and squishy, too.
"John," Isaac moaned, his lush teats straining with desire. "I need you."
John, coarse abs pulsing softly in the moonlight, stood silently. Isaac looked at him expectantly. John blinked.
"Oh, sorry," Isaac added. John had been hit on the head quite a few times in his service with EarthGOV. "John, I need you – sexually."
At hearing those beautiful words, John flexed his rough-hewn abs and Isaac found himself being guided to his soft emergency bunker cot by the sheer force of John's undulating midsection. He parted his thighs in anticipation, exposing the soft pink petals of his butthole. John entered him like him was a lottery. His engorged pecker pushed inside him and he felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment. Isaac clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and his hands. His spongy love mountains hurled to and fro with each pounding. His body was like a beautiful flower that was opening and somebody was pushing their dick inside it. Then John moaned, arched his back, and suffered from dick Parkinson's. He pumped in all of his hot pearlescent sperms as Isaac spasmed with so many orgasms! The two lay still for a moment as the stinky scent of lovemaking billowed around the room. Isaac got out of bed, still shimmering with orgasm. He glowed with contentment, like a cat who ate the cream of the crop. He walked across the room and picked up his towel, still wet with melted snow water.
"John," he said softly, "there's something I have to tell you…"
But the cot bed was empty. John was gone, escaped out the bedroom window. In the distance, Isaac heard the fading sound of galloping abs, the delicious war cries of the necromorph-slaying love machine vanishing into the mountains of the cold, wet snow planet from which the snow came.
Isaac's juicy lips uttered the words into the night: "...you forgot to save your game."