He was lying on the gurney, waiting for me. I 'd lied to the undertaker, I 'd said I wanted a showing, undefended casket. I wanted him to appear nice. I 'd never seen him in a suit before. The true statement was I just wanted to see him one last sentence.

It was n't as if I was planning this all along. All I wanted was a few more minute with him, a few more hours to only deepen the bother that filled me. I did n't mean it to end up happening the way it did, but he 'd been in my aspiration and nightmares since that day I walked into the mortuary and saw him lying there, and made passion to him. He was so beautiful, so Danton True Young and innocent, still scarred from the fierceness of his lifespan, though he 'd never babble out about it to me.

I 'd lay him, dressed, on my bed, the mantle drawn, the door locked. I restrained myself for a duet 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 clit, forcing myself to go slowly, ignoring the urgency of my own frustrated desires. I slowly slid the shirt off over his cold articulatio humeri and stood back to admire him. Now he was half-naked, I could see the wounds the coroner had left, the scratch where he 'd cut into the perfectly flesh, looking for something I could never understand. Thank god for the brief autopsy.

They 'd found him - the police - slumped on a bed in a flashy flat on the bad side of meat of town, dead. Overdose, they 'd said, and the coroner had agreed. heroin. felo-de-se. There had been a broken syringe lying beside the bed, but they did n't hump where he 'd got the drugs from. There had been no note, but the room access and windowpane were closed and it was inconceivable that it had been execution.

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

His moth-eaten backtalk were business firm against mine, and I pushed my natural language past, into his dry backtalk, rubbing myself up against his tongue, plunging into the depth of him, moving more passionately as my desire flamed inside me. He did n't respond, but as I carried on kissing him, I only felt the impulse even more than before. I reached down and rubbed my swollen putz through my pant.

I broke off the candy kiss, and, moving quickly, dragged off my wearing apparel until I stood raw and trembling beside the bed. It took me ten minutes to finish undressing him, ten minutes which only made me madder with luxuria. Tearing off the last few vestiges of his clothing, I grabbed a pot from the bedside table and smeared Vaseline over my rock-hard shaft, massaging my Ball as I stood over him, desperate to consummate my love one finis fourth dimension.

I got on top of him, like I had before, and, hooking my hired hand under his cold thighs, lifted his legs so that I could weightlift the head of my cock to his gap. I pushed myself into him much easier this time, though my cock was so hard that the head was swollen far beyond formula, bloated and majestic, dribbling buddy-buddy pre-cum. I sighed as I pushed myself in as far as I could then quell still for a moment, breathing difficult, forcing myself to acquire it slow down.

'I love you, Kevin ,'I panted.

I began to advertize in and out of him, as gently as if I was making love to a adult female, my lust turning me into a barely-controlled monster. I chewed at his shoulder, his mammilla, his brim, tongue-fucking him as my cock slid slowly backwards and forwards inside his tight intestine. Pushing myself in as far as I could, I made humping motions to coerce every last column inch of my dick into him.

It did n't go very long. I could n't assist myself, but I started bucking violently into his body. It did n't weigh that I was fucking a corpse, it did n't weigh that this was untimely. 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 despair, I thrust deeply into him, shuddering as my repressed semen flooded out of me.

I lay beside him for the succeeding hour or so, not caring for the sentence that slipped slowly by us, just enjoying his companionship. I played with my cock, already slippery with a miscellany of my climax and Vaseline, until it began to season again beneath my fingers. I slipped a arctic cock ring down over the swelling heading, threading it down to the thick base.

The rubber pulled back my foreskin. I was about seven column inch long, and a couple thick at the base, so the annulus was biting quite tightly into my pelt already. As I stroked myself, a fall of cum oozed out of my slit and I rubbed it over my headway with the palm of my hands, bucking my pelvic girdle up to cope with my own caresses.

I knelt between his leg and lifted them until I could get his knee over my shoulders. 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 insensate balls, wondering whether there was still a spark of life trapped in there. I locked my munition around his soft thigh and started slowly pumping in and out of his promiscuous bowels. My own semen churned around my cock, oozing out of him, cementing us together in our embracing.

I was pounding harder and harder into him now, gasping with every thrusting as I got closer to coming. His torso shuddered against me as my musket ball tightened. I fucked him violently. I screamed out his public figure again and again, wanting him to feel my heat energy mysterious inside him, as I jerked for the secondly time that day, jetting my life into his cold, dead bowels.

As soon as my orgasm had subsided, I turned him over and entered him again. My seed was already beginning to trickle down over his glob and onto the sheets and he was so relaxed now that I could agitate my full length in with one easy thrust. My cock was still tumid, but only because of the annulus. I moved in and out until the sense experience became too much for me. Then, with one final exam energy, I sheathed myself in him up to my testis 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 forget me ?'

He did n't serve. I sighed and pressed my buttock to the side of his head. I had n't felt the tears start, but my middle 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 sullen in my hand. I was exhausted and trembling. Gently, I pressed the muzzle of the gun to his cold back talk. His tooth scraped along the barrelful as I forced it deeper in, until the muzzle pressed against the side of his brass, pointing straight upwards.

I had said I 'd never leave him, that I 'd always be by his side. I had to keep my promise to him, even if he would n't see it honored. I would never leave him. I took a deep breathing space and squeezed my centre closed. My digit tightened on the trigger.

'Goodbye, Kevin ,'I murmured, tears filling my oculus at this lowest instant. My last instant with him. I pulled the trigger.

I just could n't live on without him .