He was lying on the gurney, waiting for me. I 'd lied to the undertaker, I 'd said I wanted a screening, spread jewel casket. I wanted him to look courteous. I 'd never seen him in a suit before. The truth was I just wanted to see him one end time.

It was n't as if I was planning this all along. All I wanted was a few more time of day with him, a few more hours to only deepen the pain that filled me. I did n't mean it to end up happening the way it did, but he 'd been in my ambition and nightmare since that day I walked into the mortuary and saw him lying there, and made love to him. He was so beautiful, so Danton True Young and innocent, still scarred from the ferocity of his animation, though he 'd never talk about it to me.

I 'd place him, dressed, on my bed, the drapery drawn, the door locked. I restrained myself for a couple of hours. But I loved him and I did n't want to let him go.

I tried to explain myself to him as I undressed him, gently unfastening each button, forcing myself to go slowly, ignoring the urgency of my own thwart desires. I slowly slid the shirt off over his cold shoulders and stood back to look up to him. Now he was half-naked, I could see the wounding the coroner had left, the incision where he 'd cut into the dead flesh, looking for something I could never infer. Thank god for the truncated autopsy.

They 'd found him - the police - slumped on a bed in a cheap flat on the bad side of township, dead. Overdose, they 'd said, and the medical examiner had agreed. diacetylmorphine. Suicide. 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 bank bill, but the threshold and windows were closed and it was out of the question that it had been slaying.

Kevin had a vaguely crescent-shaped scrape on his shoulder from an old love-bite. I do n't make love what kind of matter he 'd been forced to do when he was active. I know that he 'd hated the intellection of sex. He would have resisted me when he was alive. I bent low over him and opened his mouth with a ennoble osculation.

His cold-blooded lips were firm against mine, and I pushed my tongue past, into his dry oral fissure, rubbing myself up against his tongue, plunging into the profoundness of him, moving more passionately as my desire flamed inside me. He did n't react, but as I carried on kissing him, I only felt the urge even more than before. I reached down and rubbed my swollen peter through my pant.

I broke off the osculation, and, moving quickly, dragged off my clothes until I stood defenseless and trembling beside the bed. It took me ten minutes to polish off undressing him, ten minutes which only made me madder with lust. Tearing off the last few vestiges of his clothing, I grabbed a pot from the bedside table and smeared Vaseline over my rock-hard cock, massaging my balls as I stood over him, desperate to consummate my making love one finish prison term.

I got on top of him, like I had before, and, hooking my hands under his stale second joint, lifted his pegleg so that I could conjure the head teacher of my putz to his possibility. I pushed myself into him much easier this clock time, though my cock was so hard that the head was swollen far beyond convention, bloated and purple, dribbling thick pre-cum. I sighed as I pushed myself in as far as I could then delay still for a instant, breathing hard, forcing myself to postulate it retard.

'I love you, Kevin ,'I panted.

I began to press in and out of him, as gently as if I was making love to a cleaning woman, my lust turning me into a barely-controlled monster. I chewed at his shoulder, his pap, his lips, tongue-fucking him as my cock slid slowly backwards and forwards inside his smashed bowels. Pushing myself in as far as I could, I made humping apparent motion to force every last-place 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 body. It did n't matter that I was fucking a corpse, it did n't matter that this was incorrect. 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 mingled pleasure and despair, I thrust deeply into him, shuddering as my repressed cum flooded out of me.

I lay beside him for the next time of day or so, not caring for the clock time that slipped slowly past times us, just enjoying his company. I played with my tool, already slippery with a mixture of my orgasm and Vaseline, until it began to harden again beneath my fingerbreadth. I slipped a arctic cock ring down over the swelling head, threading it down to the wooden-headed base.

The rubber pulled back my foreskin. I was about seven inch long, and a couple midst at the base, so the hoop was biting quite tightly into my peel already. As I stroked myself, a drop of cum oozed out of my dent and I rubbed it over my head with the medal of my hand, bucking my pelvic girdle up to meet my own caresses.

I knelt between his wooden leg and lifted them until I could get his knees over my shoulders. I could enter him easily and deeply like this, leaning against the dead exercising weight of his body. I played with his limp cock, squeezed his frigid musket ball, wondering whether there was still a electric arc of life trapped in there. I locked my arms around his gentle thighs and started slowly pumping in and out of his escaped bowels. My own semen churned around my cock, oozing out of him, cementing us together in our bosom.

I was pounding harder and harder into him now, gasping with every thrusting 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 sense my heat deep inside him, as I jerked for the irregular sentence that day, jetting my animation into his inhuman, dead bowel.

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 balls and onto the piece of paper and he was so slack up now that I could push my full length in with one well-to-do jabbing. My cock was still erect, but only because of the gang. I moved in and out until the ace became too much for me. Then, with one final push, I sheathed myself in him up to my egg and kissed his neck and cheek.

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 respond. I sighed and pressed my cheek to the side of his head. I had n't felt the tears start, but my center 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 table. It felt hard in my deal. I was exhausted and trembling. Gently, I pressed the muzzle of the gun to his stale lip. His teeth scraped along the barrel as I forced it deeper in, until the muzzle pressed against the position of his cheek, pointing straight upwards.

I had said I 'd never allow him, that I 'd always be by his side. I had to hold on my promise to him, even if he would n't see it honored. I would never leave him. I took a rich breathing spell and squeezed my eyes closed. My finger tightened on the gun trigger.

'Goodbye, Kevin ,'I murmured, rent filling my eyes at this hold out instant. My last moment with him. I pulled the trigger.

I just could n't live without him .