He was lying on the gurney, waiting for me. I 'd lied to the undertaker, I 'd said I wanted a viewing, open coffin. I wanted him to reckon nice. I 'd never seen him in a suit before. The truth was I just wanted to see him one lowest time.

It was n't as if I was planning this all along. All I wanted was a few to a greater extent time of day with him, a few more time of day 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 pipe 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 young and free, still scarred from the violence of his life, though he 'd never speak about it to me.

I 'd position him, dressed, on my bed, the curtains drawn, the threshold locked. I restrained myself for a yoke of hours. But I loved him and I did n't require to let him go.

I tried to explain myself to him as I undressed him, gently unfastening each push, forcing myself to go slowly, ignoring the urgency of my own frustrated desires. I slowly slid the shirt off over his cold shoulders and stood back to admire him. Now he was half-naked, I could see the lesion the medical examiner had left, the incision where he 'd cut into the dead build, looking for something I could never realize. Thank god for the shortened autopsy.

They 'd institute him - the police - slumped on a bed in a tatty flat on the bad position of town, dead. Overdose, they 'd said, and the coroner had agreed. Heroin. Suicide. There had been a impoverished 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 unimaginable that it had been murder.

Kevin had a vaguely crescent scar on his articulatio humeri from an old love-bite. I do n't recognize what kind of things he 'd been forced to do when he was alive. I know that he 'd hated the cerebration of sex. He would have resisted me when he was alive. I bent low over him and opened his oral fissure with a gentle kiss.

His inhuman backtalk were firm against mine, and I pushed my tongue past, into his dry mouth, 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 react, but as I carried on kissing him, I only felt the urge even more than before. I reached down and itch my swollen cock through my trouser.

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 minutes to terminate undressing him, ten minutes which only made me madder with lust. Tearing off the endure few tincture of his article of 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 love one hold out time.

I got on top of him, like I had before, and, hooking my hands under his frigidity thighs, lifted his legs so that I could press the head of my cock to his opening move. I pushed myself into him much easier this clock time, though my cock was so punishing that the head was swollen far beyond normal, bloated and imperial, dribbling thick pre-cum. I sighed as I pushed myself in as far as I could then stayed still for a moment, breathing tough, forcing myself to take it slow.

'I love you, Kevin ,'I panted.

I began to push in and out of him, as gently as if I was making making love to a womanhood, my lust turning me into a barely-controlled lusus naturae. I chewed at his shoulder, his tit, his lips, tongue-fucking him as my pecker slid slowly backwards and forwards inside his mingy bowels. Pushing myself in as far as I could, I made humping motions to force every last inch of my putz into him.

It did n't last very long. I could n't aid myself, but I started bucking violently into his body. It did n't matter 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 amalgamate pleasure and despair, I thrust deeply into him, shuddering as my pent-up come flooded out of me.

I lay beside him for the side by side time of day or so, not caring for the meter that slipped slowly past us, just enjoying his company. I played with my prick, already slippery with a concoction of my sexual climax and Vaseline, until it began to harden again beneath my fingerbreadth. I slipped a rubber cock ring down over the swelling head, threading it down to the thick nucleotide.

The rubber pulled back my foreskin. I was about seven inches long, and a couple midst at the foundation, so the ring was biting quite tightly into my skin already. As I stroked myself, a drop of cum oozed out of my slit and I rubbed it over my head with the palm of my hands, bucking my hips up to meet my own caresses.

I knelt between his legs and lifted them until I could get his knee over my shoulder. I could recruit him easily and deeply like this, leaning against the abruptly weight unit of his eubstance. I played with his limp cock, squeezed his insensate balls, wondering whether there was still a flicker of aliveness trapped in there. I locked my weapon around his soft thighs and started slowly pumping in and out of his loose intestine. My own ejaculate churned around my hammer, oozing out of him, cementing us together in our embracement.

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 find my passion deep inside him, as I jerked for the second meter that day, jetting my life into his frigid, bushed gut.

As soon as my sexual climax had subsided, I turned him over and entered him again. My semen was already beginning to dribble down over his egg and onto the sheets and he was so relaxed now that I could push my full length in with one prosperous knife thrust. My turncock was still erect, but only because of the ring. I moved in and out until the whiz became too much for me. Then, with one concluding push, I sheathed myself in him up to my balls and kissed his cervix 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 answer. I sighed and pressed my cheek to the incline of his head. I had n't felt the tear start, but my eyes were burning now. I tried to hold back the choke coil of a sob, but I could n't.

I reached out to the gun, lying on the bedside table. It felt heavy in my hand. I was exhausted and trembling. Gently, I pressed the muzzle of the gun to his cold sassing. His tooth scraped along the barrelful as I forced it deeper in, until the muzzle pressed against the face of his brass, pointing straight upwards.

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

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

I just could n't live without him .