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Archive name: deaddate.txt (MF, necro?, voy)
Authors name: Hadit69639 (hadit69639@yahoo.com)
Story title : Date with the Dead

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
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Date with the Dead (MF, necro?, voy)
by hadit69639 (hadit69639@yahoo.com)

***

Sam shivered in the darkness of the parking lot, drawing 
his overcoat closer around him. The snow lazily drifted 
to the ground beneath the sickly yellow street light. 

"Why the fuck am I out here?" he cursed, stamping his 
feet to keep warm. Having had some lame notion of hooking 
up with Sydney, he wore his "best" clothes, hurriedly dug 
up from the bottom of his closet. 

His phone had rung around 8:30.

"Sam," Sydney rasped, "Come over to the funeral home. 
There's something I want to show you."

She had refused to say what it was. Probably another 
accident victim or something else to give him nightmares. 
Now, freezing in the darkness behind Brach's funeral 
home, he had begun to suspect it was just another of her 
twisted pranks.

The back door of the funeral home slowly opened. Sydney 
stood in the door, dressed in her butch work clothes. 
"You look cold."

"Of course I'm fucking cold," Sam grunted, "I've been out 
here for a goddamned half hour."

"You're the one always bitching you need to get out 
more," she laughed, and disappeared into the dark hallway 
beyond as he scampered in after her.

Why don't I just tell her to fuck off and leave? he 
thought. Their relationship had always been a strange 
one. He had known her since her straight days back in 
college, and though they had never really gotten together 
(as best as either could remember) he still secretly 
desired her. Lesbian or no lesbian, her tight body and 
small perfect chest were still a turn on. The dyed-blond 
buzzcut was a tragedy, no doubt, but it still added a 
little spice.

Soon, he stumbled into the morgue, where Sydney was 
waiting. She sat spread-legged in a swivel chair under 
the light, chewing on a pen.

"Are you horny?" she asked. 

Sam almost fell over, then remembered whom he was dealing 
with. Sydney wasn't a tease, she was a sadist.

"Why," he said, "feel like getting us both thrown in jail 
for screwing around in here?" He had been in the morgue 
before, and knew that the sheet-covered lumps on the 
eight slabs meant that tonight was a full house.

"I'm supposed to be here," she answered, getting up to 
stretch, and thrusting her tits out. "You're not," she 
whispered tantalizingly.

Bitch, he thought.

"Besides, don't be so goddamned paranoid. I took the late 
shift for a reason. No one's going to be coming here... 
except you maybe."

Despite Sam's ingrained wariness for Sydney's come-ons, 
he could start to feel the blood rush to his cock. "So," 
he said, "what's the deal?" His tone softened in a now 
desperate attempt to make up for his earlier hostility. 

Sydney stood up and began to walk slowly towards him. 
Maybe this was finally the night, he thought. She leaned 
against him, her head on his shoulder, and slowly reached 
down to massage his groin. "I asked if you were horny?" 
she whispered as her fingers started to feel their way 
around his stiffening tool.

"Now I am," he answered, and began to kiss her neck, 
reaching down for her ass.

"Not for me," she giggled, while he eagerly caressed her. 
His heart sank as she pulled away. If this was another 
game...

"Remember how I said I wanted to show you something?" she 
said, and began to unbutton her pants. Slowly, her hand 
slinked down into her panties. Damn, Sam thought, now I'm 
really fucking confused.

Sydney sighed and pulled her hand back. She walked 
towards him, but this time past him and leaned over one 
of the half-lit slabs. "Well, she said, "here it is," and 
whipped off the sheet like a stage magician, "Voila!"

Sam gasped. The blood that had been pumping into his dick 
was quickly redirected to his head. Before them lay the 
body of a nude girl. No, not a girl... a coed maybe, but 
not a girl. Her bush was small and neatly trimmed, and 
her breasts were full and meaty, even as they sagged 
lifelessly to the sides.

"What the fuck!" he cried, unable to take his eyes off 
the body. His dick was starting to swell again, despite 
the horror that filled him. 

"Do ya like her?" Sydney bubbled sarcastically. She now 
stood behind the body and began to run her fingers 
through its hair. For maybe the first time in his life, 
Sam was completely speechless.

"I do," she said, and bent over the girl to give her 
nipple a lick.

"Holy shit, holy shit!" Sam's head began to swim. "Jesus 
Christ, what's wrong with you... you sick fuck!"

Sydney stood up and put her hand back inside her pants. 
Now it was really busy. "Don't worry," she said, closing 
her eyes. "Everyone does it."

"Everyone who! What the fuck do you mean?"

She paused and glared at him. "Well, since I caught the 
owner's son, that queer Fred, buggering the mayor's 
father, I figure I have free reign down here." Her left 
hand slowly massaged the dead girl's tit.

"Especially since I had to talk him out of killing 
himself, and we both agreed that no one within 300 miles 
would want to know about his little escapades." She took 
her other, glistening hand, and traced the outline of the 
girl's lips. "I can do whatever I want," she cooed, and 
looked at Sam. "Me and whoever I want."

"How long's it been, Sam," she asked as her sticky hand 
grabbed his. He stood paralyzed as she drew it to the 
girl's stomach. It was so soft... pliant...

"Jesus," he said, whipping his hand back. "This is 
someone's kid!"

"Yeah right," Sydney groaned as she slid both of her 
hands down into her pants. "She's some raver dropout from 
the college. An OD with no wake. You'd be lucky if her 
fucking parents show up at the funeral."

Sam gazed at the corpse, fascinated. Her hair was pink, 
and her clit- he was now unable to stop from looking... 
was pierced. Trash, he'd have called her among his 
friends at the university. There was no doubt left... his 
cock was hard. He had to cum soon, not here, but...

"Let's get off," Sydney said as she collapsed back down 
in her chair. She quickly pulled off her pants and began 
to openly finger herself. "You always wanted to see me 
masturbate, Sam. You had me watch you jerk off once, 
remember?" She tugged him over and undid his belt. Soon, 
his throbbing cock was jutting out in the half-darkness, 
and dripping. 

"But, with her like that?" he said, and looked back to 
the prone body, its legs spread slightly. Almost, 
invitingly, it seemed.

Bottomless, she stood up to take off his shirt, and 
deftly unfastened her bra with her other hand. "Silly," 
she said, and gripped his cock. Rockets of pleasure shot 
through him at her long-forbidden touch. "I want you to 
fuck her. Fuck her for me Sam. Remind me what it's like 
when a woman has her tight pussy pumped."

Sam gulped. She was trying to lead him over to the table 
by his dick. Her proposition was unbelievable, but not as 
much so as it would have been a week, a day... fuck, ten 
minutes ago.

"I can't," he gasped. "It's wrong. I just can't."

They now stood before the girl, and Sydney roughly tossed 
the legs apart, one at a time. Her other hand gave his 
dick a tight squeeze.

"Your mind says no, but your dick says yes." They both 
laughed at the cliche, and the thick fog of tension eased 
slightly.

"What if I put it in for you?" she asked, and drew him 
closer, so that his cock's head was inches away from the 
girl's pussy. "Then it would be my fault." She began to 
trace the girl's lips with his cock. His mind seemed to 
blow apart as the taboo shattered inside him.

Deep inside, he knew he would never be the same. A small 
voice still pleaded within him to get dressed and leave, 
to go beg God for forgiveness. Something else drowned it 
out though; the pure animal lust exploding like a 
mushroom cloud within him. It had been a long time 
indeed.

"Fuck her for me," Sydney whispered hoarsely, positioning 
herself behind him, as one hand reached down to massage 
his balls. "Do it."

He paused. Something was about to happen, and it might 
not-

"Do it, you fucking wimp!" she screamed and pressed 
forward on him. Before he knew it, he was inside the 
girl. His hands reflexively grabbed her smooth, pale 
thighs. The dead girl's breasts quivered. Shit, she was 
tight. It seemed almost as if she was wet, but his cock 
was so slick by now he couldn't tell.

Sydney plopped back into the chair and began to hammer 
her cunt with her hand, going from one finger to two, 
then three. Her other hand had a death-grip on her tie. 

"That's it," she sighed, as he mechanically began to pump 
the girl on the cold slab. Sydney's groans grew louder in 
the background as he increased speed. His hard cock was 
filling this girl, whoever she was, exploring every inch 
of her vessel, reaching all of the spots inside her.

"FUCK HER!" Sydney wailed.

His horror had now completely gone to lust. Anonymous 
sex, rape... whatever twisted drives he had always 
blanched at exploring; now opened up full-throttle as he 
bent over the girl to suck her breasts. Suddenly, his 
balls spasmed and he shot a hot load deep inside her.

"Keep going, I'm not done." Sydney's experienced eyes 
knew that he had cum in the girl's pussy. She herself had 
come twice already, but she liked to do everything in 
threes. 

Sam needed no encouragement. In the darkness of the blind 
lust that had overpowered him, the orgasm, while 
pleasurable, had been as disruptive as a hiccup. He 
continued to pound her sticky wetness, now leaning over 
her, now biting at her nipples, her neck.

"Let's come together, Sam," Sydney sputtered out behind 
him.

"Oh... yeah!" He was close again, his sweat dripping onto 
the flaccid, jiggling body. He grasped the fleshy tits 
like reins on a horse as he rode the body into another 
thrill of ecstasy. He and Sydney cried out in chorus. He 
staggered back from the body to collapse on the floor, 
his dick leaving a sticky trail of his deed.

"How was it?" She asked. Sam sat up, and his face began 
to flush as he realized what he had just done. Sydney 
sensed his discomfort, and put her wet fingers in his 
mouth. "There, there, baby, we had a good time." She 
stood up and walked over to the corpse, bending over to 
inquisitively examine the spent pussy.

Sam's heart raced as Sydney began to lick and suck his 
semen out of the folds of the girls' twat. 

"You actually taste pretty good Sam," Sydney said, 
smacking her lips. She turned to face him, a blob of his 
still warm cum on her chin. "Maybe I should suck you off 
sometime, see if I still have the knack."

Someone coughed. Sam froze. Someone was in the room. He 
sprang up and began to dress. Goddamn, goddamn, he 
thought, this is it, my life's over. His blood had turned 
to ice, and his eyes furtively searched the dark room as 
he spastically threw on his clothes. He couldn't see 
anyone, but someone had coughed. Shit!

Sydney frowned. "Sam... don't worry." 

But he was already out of the morgue running down the 
dark hallway, stumbling over the floral arrangements and 
whatever the fuck else there was in the shadows. He 
reached the door, but in his panic he couldn't undo the 
latch. Someone laughed behind him, was it Sydney? Who was 
there? He fumbled in true desperation till the door 
opened, and he scrambled out into the now knee-deep snow.

"Sam, don't worry, you're just a necrophiliac!" Sydney 
yelled after him. His mouth went dry, and he stumbled and 
fell in the snow. It burned his face and eyes. 
Necrophilia! The word resounded in his head, making his 
heart feel like it would explode. He got up and ran off 
into the darkness. My life is over, ran the brightest 
thought in his boggled mind.

*

Back in the half-lit morgue, Sydney wrapped herself in 
the dead girl's sheet and walked over to one of the other 
tables. "Stupid asshole," she said, and struck the body 
on the face.

"Hee, hee, hee." The head of a wizened old man popped out 
from underneath the sheet. He was nearly bald, and the 
liver-spotted folds of his sagging flesh were exposed as 
he sat upright. Sydney walked back to the girl's body, 
and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. Under a 
blanket on another table, a body moved.

"Elizabeth, Elizabeth," the old man cried out to the 
other moving figure, "wasn't that something! Wasn't that 
something!"

The other body sat upright, and a dark haired, middle age 
woman appeared and smiled, almost in spite of herself. 
"Yes, James, yes it was."

"Think what it would cost in Europe to see something like 
that! Just think!" The old man gazed wistfully off into 
the darkness as the pink-haired girl revived under her 
lover's caresses.

"Ugh... is it over? I have a fucking really bad 
headache." She grimaced as Sydney held her head in her 
arms. Behind them the old man cackled ecstatically. 

"Yes, honey," whispered Sydney. Then she laughed. "You 
were probably the best fuck he ever had." 
 
END

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form. 

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