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From: keeper6790@aol.com (Sarah Anne)
Subject: {ASSM} Necrophilia (mf, teen, first, nec) by SAT
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Reposted by request. And thanks to Kristen for hosting my stories. SAT
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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
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Archive name: necro.txt (mf, teen, first, nec)
Authors name: Sarah Anne Talley
Story title : Necrophilia
------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1999.
Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
------------------------------------------------------
Celestial Reviews 340 - September 19, 1999
Ratings for "Necrophilia"
Athena (technical quality): 10
Venus (plot & character): 10
Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9
Necrophilia
by Sarah Anne Talley (Keeper6790@aol.com)
Authors note: I am a reasonably normal woman with many
fantasies. As you can see by this story, many of my
fantasies are of the dark variety. I certainly don't
advocate any of the actions committed in this story,
and can only hope that my readers are in touch with
reality. SAT
o-O-o
At seventeen I thought that my life was pretty much
over. I was sick of feeling like a loser at school and
being rejected by all the other kids in school and in
my neighborhood.
Sure I am a computer geek, and I don't play sports, but
I don't look like a freak or anything. Maybe I'm a lit-
tle skinny, and have a somewhat rough complexion, but
there are hundreds of other guys out there that could
be interchangeable with me.
So why did the other kids always pick on me? What had
I done to deserve this type of ridicule?
o-O-o
It was just past 2 a.m. when I finally turned off my
computer. I had been online for more than 6 hours,
since just after dinner. As the hard drive whirred to
a stop I stood and stretched my tense muscles. I and
looked over at my reflection in my bedroom closet-door
mirror knowing full well what I was going to do.
I had been surfing the X-rated web pages again and had
been sitting there for hours with my usual hardon. I
stopped wearing underwear a long time ago because of
the mess I'd make with my pre-come oozing all over the
place. These days I always wear shorts so I can just
pull my dick out and stroke it while I look at stuff
on the Internet.
As usual after a long session cruising the sex-net I
needed to bring myself off. So as I looked at my re-
fection in the mirror I undressed, taking my time and
enjoying the sight of my hard nipples as I pulled my
T-shirt off over my head. The sight of my stiff cock
popping into view as I pushed my shorts down to the
floor always pleased me. (I think that I have a really
nice looking cock.)
I stood there looking at my body looking back at me.
What was wrong with me? I wondered for the thousandth
time? I couldn't see any major defects, as a matter of
fact I thought that my cock looked pretty impressive,
and although I wasn't one of those athletic hard bodies
I thought I looked pretty good.
As I stood there I started to stroke my dick. The long
hours of arousal looking at all those X-rated web sites
had made me almost comatose, but now that I'd finally
taken the situation in hand, my body thrilled at the
sensations that it was experiencing as I pulled the
sensitive skin of my cock.
I watched carefully as my reflection tensed before me
in its pleasure taking. I leaned my upper body forward
and stuck my butt out so I could slam my stroking hand
deeper giving my cock more sensation with longer
thrusts.
As I stood there jacking off, faster and faster, my
mind began to envision Christine. God just the thought
of her made me ready! Several more thrusts and I was
coming. As I spurted into my Kleenex, I imagined that
I was coming in Christine. For the millionth time.
I imagined her beautiful body spread out on a bed, legs
open, arms stretched out to me. I could feel our skin
touching as I lay down between those perfect thighs and
shoved my cock up into her moist pussy.
I could feel her luscious tits pressed against my chest
as I rutted in and out of her. She would grab my butt
cheeks and try to shove deeper into her, I would
come in her and make her pregnant with me baby as she
screamed in lust crazed joy. We would marry and have
lots of kids.
Then I was standing in my darkened room, with my come
nestled in the Kleenex in my hand. And I sighed, look-
ing at my body in the mirror, wishing I had the nerve
to at least try to ask Christine for a date or some-
thing.
o-O-o
The morning came all too soon. Another school day and
then off to my after school job. And a strange job it
was. I still didn't know why I had taken this parti-
cular job from the work/school program. All I knew was
that I liked getting off an hour and a half early each
day and I got paid to do it. But working at the local
mortuary didn't do much to help my reputation at
school.
The good side of the job was that I was pretty much
left alone, all I had to do was clean the place after
hours and then go home. This was a three-day a week
job from 8 p.m. till midnight and no one was ever
there to criticize me or to tell me what to do. So I
goofed off a lot because it didn't really take more
than an hour and a half to do the work.
o-O-o
The next day I finally couldn't take it any more -- I
had to ask Christine out. I knew that it was hopeless
but I was so tired of fantasizing about it; that I
felt rejection was better than never knowing. I mean
what if she actually said yes! What if because I had
the guts to say something to her, we became friends,
and who knew, we might even become lovers in time.
I knew that Christine was different than the other
girls. Although she was beautiful and very popular
she wasn't like so many of them, all stuck up with
herself. Every time I'd seen her she was always nice
to the people she was talking to. To me she was an
angel, a beautiful unearthly vision; a person beyond
the normal standards.
I waited until lunchtime to try to talk to her. My
hands were sweating all morning long, and I couldn't
concentrate on any of my morning classes as I day-
dreamed of our encounter. In my imagination I saw her
saying yes to me and even giving me a little peck on
the cheek to seal our date. I was in a fog of romantic
love and lust.
Which was firmly dashed into the gutter by 12:22 p.m.
that day.
I hesitantly walked up to Christine at lunchtime. She
was surrounded by friends and as I got closer my nerves
began to desert me. But taking a deep breath and
clenching my hands I walked right up to her and said,
"Hi Christine, you probably don't know me, but we're
in the same home room. And, well -- I was wondering --
if you might -- ah -- want to go to the movies with me
-- or something..."
As I held my breath in hopeful expectation, a varsity
football player sauntered over and sat down beside my
dream girl. He put an arm around her and said good
naturedly, "Hey boy, you trying to move in on my girl?"
Christine just stared through me, sort of like I was
causing a nuisance.
I mumbled, "Sorry, just kidding -- sorry..." And I got
out of there fast, almost running to get away from
their view. I was so humiliated, how could I have
thought that a girl like Christine could have been
interested in someone like me? What an idiot I was to
even think it.
I spent the rest of that day in abject misery, alter-
nating between wishing I was dead, and wishing that
everyone else in the school would die instead. But
finally 3:30 came and I was dismissed from class. Even
though my job didn't start until 8 p.m. I got to leave
school early, supposedly to do my homework since I'd
also be working sometime during the evening.
As I walked home I stopped by the chain-link fence and
watched as the cheerleader squad came out onto the
field. There was Christine in all her beauty. Every-
thing receded into the background as I stood there
mesmerized, watching her perfect body going through
the squads practice routine.
I wanted that body, I wanted that girl almost more
than life it's self. God how I lusted after that woman.
When they were done with their practice and gone from
the field, I finally turned and headed home -- with
only one thought in my head -- get home and "get off"
while I envisioned Christine taking my spurting cock
between her lovely lips.
o-O-o
Two days had passed since my rejection and humiliation
at the hands of my dream girl. She wouldn't know it
but I had fucked her in the mouth and pussy five times
since her rejection of me. But I was brought up short
that morning when the rumor spread through school that
something had happened to Christine.
She was dead!? I couldn't believe it, how could some-
thing happen to a healthy beautiful teenage girl, the
object of my love. I was devastated, totally whipped!
I'd never see my dream lover again, god I wished that
we could have gotten to know each other better.
Apparently Christine had had a massive stroke while
performing at the football game the night before. The
rumor was that she'd been taking drugs, something like
speed to give her extra energy. And she just collapsed
right there during the game. I still couldn't believe
it.
That evening I almost called in sick, but I needed the
money and knew that even if my dream lover was dead,
there wasn't much I could do but go on. So I dragged
my sorry self to work, arriving just as the mortuary
staff was going off duty.
As I punched in, I over heard on of the morticians say,
"Man what a waste, she could have been a beauty queen.
I really hate it when young kids bite the big one like
that. I hope they find the bastard who was feeding her
those drugs."
I stopped in mid stride as I put two and two together.
They were talking about my Christine! She must have
been brought in to this mortuary. My heart stopped for
a moment, could I see her one more time, one last time
up close all by myself?
I nervously waited while the last of the evening staff
left. When I heard the key in the lock indicating that
the last person had left the building I rushed to the
morgue.
I normally stayed away from this area because it was
so gross, and smelled strange. But this night was
different, this night my fantasy lover was there,
waiting for me.
I burst through the metal doors and looked wildly
around the room. There were three workstations in
varying states of completion. I knew instantly which
one was Christine, she was in the while coffin with
white silk showing from the open hinged top. I don't
know how I knew this from where I stood, but I was
right.
A crept up to the raised coffin and looked in to see
my fantasy laying peacefully with her arms at her
sides. My god, they had dressed her in her cheer-
leader's uniform -- she looked so alive to me -- I
knew that if I shook her that she'd sit up rubbing
sleep from her eyes.
I couldn't resist the urge to try and awaken her. I
reached a trembling hand out and touched her face. It
was cold, as cold as the room, which was pretty cold.
I shook her anyway, and although she moved with my
pushes, she didn't wake up, but then I didn't really
think that she would.
I stood there for the longest time, drinking in her
beauty. Even with her eyes closed, lying in a coffin,
she was the most beautiful girl in the world to me. I
felt this huge lose, the world had lost a bit of
beauty that it would never be able to get back.
I touched her lips with my fingers, rubbing them back
and forth from corner to corner, wishing that they had
kissed me when they were alive. What a waste I thought,
what a terrible waste.
Then a strange thought popped into my head. I had this
crazy urge to kiss her goodbye. As the idea formed in
my mind it was turned into action, yes I was going to
kiss a dead girl. She might have rejected me in life,
but now she would have to accept my love, there was
nothing she could do about it now -- was there?
I grabbed the step stool and climbed up and leaned
over the silk lined coffin. They had expertly made up
her face, the eyeshadow looked just like she used to
wear, and her lips were covered with just the right
shade of lipstick.
I looked into her lovely face for a long time. I was
only inches away from her, closer than I'd ever been
before. Lovingly I touched her lips to mine, then
pulled away to look at her face again. I could taste
the lipstick, I wanted to sink into her to become one
with my Christine, I loved her. I pressed my lips
tighter to hers and moved my head mashing our lips
together like a passionate lover.
She lay there and accepted my kisses. Then wanting to
get closer I climbed into the coffin with her, I
couldn't help myself. There wasn't enough room for two
of us so I lay on top of her. I was hard now, painfully
so. My heart was pounding a mile a minute and I could
feel that familiar wetness of pre-come in my underwear.
I kissed her lips harder and smeared her lipstick as I
lustfully smashed our lips together. I pushed my tongue
through her unresisting lips to run it along her per-
fect teeth. God I loved her so.
After a bit, knowing that if I was caught something
terrible would happen to me, I pushed a hand up under
Christine's sweater. My heart stopped as I realized
that the mortician hadn't put a bra on her. I guessed
they didn't think she'd care. Immediately I shoved my
other hand up her short cheerleader skirt and was re-
warded with the feel of pubic hair flowing through my
fingers.
I honestly had only wanted to kiss my fantasy lover
goodbye, but now I had to do more. As I unzipped my
pants and shoved them down my thighs I wondered if
Christine had ever had sex with a guy in life. Well
either way, I wouldn't let her go to her grave without
experiencing it at least once.
I was a sloppy mess, pre-come squishing everywhere as
I pulled my painful rigid cock out into the cool
morgue air-conditioned room. Fumbling between our
crotches I position my live pulsing cock at her dead
quietly excepting pussy.
It was strange, really strange, as I pushed my slick
dick into her waiting body. I could feel her love
tunnel against my cock as I thrust home. The first
thrust into my lover was slightly painful, but I didn't
care, I was living my fantasy, I was fucking Christine,
the most beautiful girl in school.
As I pulled back out and thrust into her again it was
easier, and as I continued to screw Christine I began
to slip in and out of her body easily. Lost in my lust
for Christine I reached over with both hands and pulled
at her thighs until her wonderfully smooth legs rose
slightly at the knees, allowing me even better pene-
tration.
I was in heaven, my body was raging, and my heart was
thumping so hard that I thought that I could actually
hear it. I was sure that if Christine were alive right
then, she would be enjoying my frantic lovemaking.
My minds-eye could actually see Christine underneath
my humping body, she was screaming at me to 'fuck her
harder' and I did, but I knew that the moment had come,
I could feel my seed welling up inside me.
One last thrust -- I jabbed cruelly into her, holding
my cock buried as deeply as I could -- and let go --
pumping my come into her, feeling my cock expand each
time I shot another gush into her body.
Finally I was done and pulled out.
I knelt over beautiful Christine and wiped my come
covered cock along her perfect lips, thinking how beau-
tiful she looked lying there with my white come mixed
with her bright lipstick.
As I struggled out of Christine's coffin, I felt com-
pletely sated. She had given me the gift of peace,
finally letting me have her intimately. And I had
given her my little gift too.
As I stood on the stool beside her coffin looking down
on her wonderful face, the urge struck me to kiss her
one last time. I could taste my come on her lips, but
I didn't mind, in fact I licked them clean. I'll never
forget the taste of my come mixed with her lipstick.
o-O-o
Looking back, I was pretty stupid at seventeen. I know
that I was infatuated with Christine, and I know that
I was pretty miserable, but you'd think that I would
have at least noticed the surveillance camera in the
ceiling of the morgue.
When I had to look at what I did to Christine on the
video in court, I couldn't believe how gross it all
looked, it hadn't seemed that bad while I was doing it.
Luckily I was only seventeen, because they can only
hold me at the youth farm for another 18 months and
frankly I'd rather be fucked by my cell mate George
for the next year and a half, than some old crusty
inmate at the federal prison.
I can barley wait to get out of detention, I'm a lot
more experienced than I was at seventeen, and this
time I'll go for a live female.
And I won't take no for an answer this time...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 9
Work like you don't need the money.
Love like you've never been hurt.
Dance like nobody's watching.
visit my story page at:
/~Kristen/sarah/
--
If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments
are their only payment. Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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