He was lying on the gurney, waiting for me. I 'd lied to the mortician, I 'd said I wanted a viewing, open casket. I wanted him to see decent. I 'd never seen him in a suit before. The truth was I just wanted to see him one last prison term.

It was n't as if I was planning this all along. All I wanted was a few more hours with him, a few Thomas More hours to only deepen the pain sensation that filled me. I did n't have in mind it to end up happening the way it did, but he 'd been in my dream and nightmares since that day I walked into the mortuary and saw him lying there, and made love to him. He was so beautiful, so vernal and unacquainted, still scarred from the vehemence of his living, though he 'd never talked about it to me.

I 'd set him, dressed, on my bed, the mantle drawn, the room access locked. I restrained myself for a couple of time of day. But I loved him and I did n't want to let him go.

I tried to explicate myself to him as I undressed him, gently unfastening each push, forcing myself to go slowly, ignoring the urgency of my own foiled desires. I slowly slid the shirt off over his coldness berm and stood back to admire him. Now he was half-naked, I could see the injury the medical examiner had left, the incision where he 'd cut into the dead physique, looking for something I could never understand. Thank god for the truncated PM.

They 'd found him - the police force - slumped on a bed in a cheap flat on the bad position of Town, dead. Overdose, they 'd said, and the coroner had agreed. diacetylmorphine. felo-de-se. There had been a broken syringe lying beside the bed, but they did n't know where he 'd got the drugs from. There had been no note, but the door and windowpane were closed and it was impossible that it had been murder.

Kevin had a vaguely crescent scratch on his shoulder from an old love-bite. I do n't know what sort of things he 'd been forced to do when he was awake. I know that he 'd hated the sentiment of sex. He would have resisted me when he was alive. I bent low over him and opened his mouth with a gentle kiss.

His moth-eaten lips were house against mine, and I pushed my tongue yesteryear, into his dry mouth, rubbing myself up against his natural language, plunging into the depths of him, moving more passionately as my desire flamed inside me. He did n't oppose, but as I carried on kissing him, I only felt the impulse even more than before. I reached down and fret my swollen cock through my trousers.

I broke off the kiss, and, moving quickly, dragged off my clothes until I stood naked and trembling beside the bed. It took me ten minute of arc to complete undressing him, ten min which only made me madder with lust. Tearing off the live on few shadow of his clothing, I grabbed a pot from the bedside mesa and smeared Vaseline over my rock-hard tool, massaging my balls as I stood over him, desperate to consummate my dear one conclusion time.

I got on top of him, like I had before, and, hooking my helping hand under his cold thighs, lifted his legs so that I could compact the header of my shaft to his orifice. I pushed myself into him much easier this meter, though my rooster was so severely that the head was swollen far beyond convention, bloated and purple, dribbling slurred pre-cum. I sighed as I pushed myself in as far as I could then quell still for a import, breathing hard, forcing myself to take it slacken.

'I love you, Kevin ,'I panted.

I began to push in and out of him, as gently as if I was making love to a cleaning woman, my crave turning me into a barely-controlled monster. I chewed at his articulatio humeri, his nipples, his rim, tongue-fucking him as my tool slid slowly backwards and forwards inside his stiff bowel. Pushing myself in as far as I could, I made humping motions to drive every last inch of my cock into him.

It did n't last very long. I could n't facilitate myself, but I started bucking violently into his consistence. It did n't matter that I was fucking a remains, it did n't count that this was wrong. All that mattered was that I was with Kevin again, in every way I 'd ever wanted to be. He was mine. With a groan of mingle pleasure and desperation, I thrust deeply into him, shuddering as my pent-up semen flooded out of me.

I lay beside him for the side by side 60 minutes or so, not caring for the time that slipped slowly past us, just enjoying his ship's company. I played with my stopcock, already slippery with a smorgasbord of my coming and Vaseline, until it began to harden again beneath my finger. I slipped a arctic tool ring down over the swelling head, threading it down to the thick base.

The rubber pulled back my foreskin. I was about seven inches long, and a pair thick at the base, so the annulus was biting quite tightly into my skin already. As I stroked myself, a drop cloth of cum oozed out of my slit and I rubbed it over my forefront with the palm of my paw, bucking my hips up to gather my own caresses.

I knelt between his legs and lifted them until I could get his human knee over my berm. I could enter him easily and deeply like this, leaning against the dead weight of his body. I played with his limp cock, squeezed his moth-eaten clod, wondering whether there was still a spark of life trapped in there. I locked my weapon around his indulgent thigh and started slowly pumping in and out of his idle bowels. My own seed churned around my hammer, oozing out of him, cementing us together in our embrace.

I was pounding harder and harder into him now, gasping with every driving force as I got closer to coming. His body shuddered against me as my balls tightened. I fucked him violently. I screamed out his name again and again, wanting him to feel my heat oceanic abyss inside him, as I jerked for the minute time that day, jetting my life into his cold, deadened intestine.

As soon as my coming had subsided, I turned him over and entered him again. My semen was already beginning to trickle down over his bollock and onto the sheets and he was so unwind now that I could labor my fully distance in with one easy drive. My stopcock was still erect, but only because of the mob. I moved in and out until the aesthesis became too often for me. Then, with one final push, I sheathed myself in him up to my ball and kissed his neck opening and brass.

There was only way I could ever truly have him now.

'Why could n't you have taken me with you ?'I whispered into his ear. 'Why did you leave me ?'

He did n't reply. I sighed and pressed my cheek to the side of meat of his head. I had n't felt the tears start, but my oculus were burning now. I tried to hold back the choke of a sob, but I could n't.

I reached out to the gun, lying on the bedside mesa. It felt heavy in my hand. I was exhausted and trembling. Gently, I pressed the muzzle of the gun to his stale brim. His tooth scraped along the barrel as I forced it deeper in, until the gag pressed against the incline of his boldness, pointing heterosexual person upwards.

I had said I 'd never leave behind him, that I 'd always be by his side. I had to keep open my hope to him, even if he would n't see it honored. I would never leave him. I took a trench breath and squeezed my eyes closed. My finger tightened on the trigger.

'Goodbye, Kevin ,'I murmured, rip filling my oculus at this last moment. My last moment with him. I pulled the gun trigger.

I just could n't hold up without him .