MY GOOD SAVE
Crashing glass woke me. A panicked glance at the clock let me know it was just after 2 am. Hearing noises and soft footsteps I hopped from the antique poster bed into my walk-in closet. There I grabbed the ancient mahogany nightstick used by my great grandfather, a county sheriff, and waited. As a dark form crept through the door into the bedroom, I sprang from the shadows and delivered a powerful blow to the invader’s head. The figure fell to the floor with a loud thud accompanied by a solid crack as a head struck the wooden bed steps.
Naked, I was totally vulnerable. I waited silently for the potential arrival of the intruder’s partner. Hearing no further sound, I turned on the closet light but kept the nightstick raised for protection. Still no more noises, so this guy must have come alone. To protect myself, I used the dim light to smash two more solid blows to the head. With the second, there was a soft crunching sound.
Assured this person was incapacitated for a while, I went into the house to check for damage. A quick look showed only glass broken to open an exterior door; no damage to the lock I had failed to secure properly. I easily taped a cover over the hole.
To securely immobilize my visitor, I picked up some rolls of the duct tape stored beside the entry door.
The form beside the bed was motionless. Turning on more light I inspected this visitor. The overall appearance suggested a man. He wore black sneakers, black sweat pants, and a black hoodie all made of dull soft materials obviously carefully chosen to be invisible in the night. Since the head was turned to the floor, the only skin I could see was on rather large rough hands. They were light pinkish bronze in color. His nails were rough and dirty.
Fearing he would revive and attack, I began to tape the wrists together tightly over the small of the back. Taping the ankles together over the black crew socks revealed by pulling up the pants legs was next. Finally, I turned him over for my first look. He couldn’t have been more than 24 or 25. Breathing lightly and with partially closed dark brown eyes, he seemed out cold. The face, framed by the hoodie, had the same very pinky-bronze tone as the hands with the addition of a black, short, scruffy French beard and thick moustache above the mouth. The high cheek bones and facial hair made for a tough, handsome face.
Was this the golden opportunity I had long wished for?
The dilemma was to call the law or not. I lived alone in the country, the house surrounded by trees. I was the only one who knew he was there. He was handsome and completely defenseless. I had always fantasized about having a unconscious or even better dead man to play with. Here was my opportunity with a handsome and very likely well-built young burglar. Who would care if some thief vanished? One less varmint in the world would be a boon.
Without hesitation, I decided!
All his menacing and strength couldn’t defend his macho from my defilement. I would strip his clothes, and diddle his dick to my hearts content. (My capacity for diddling went far beyond the endurance of any living man.) The powerful arms wouldn’t be able to protect his virgin asshole either. He would be kissed and fondled like a love doll, all his humiliation savored only by me. Limp and lifeless, he would unknowingly suffer all the sexual humiliations a straight criminal male dreaded. Fortunately, in death sexual preferences are unenforceable.
By breaking and entering this house in this defend your castle state he chose his day to die.
Kneeling beside the bed, I began to strip him. Pulling back the hood, the face turned out to be far more ruggedly handsome than it first appeared. The cheekbones and other features below the high brow were strongly chiseled. With a strong Roman nose, he looked like a Latin lover from one of those old silent films. The eyelashes were long and the eyebrows thick and nearly joined above the nose. The thick black hair was cut short, now sticking in all directions after roughly removing the hood. He hadn’t shaved for two three days so there was plenty of stubble along the jaws and down the throat. The wide cupid bow lips on the broad mouth were a dark reddish-brown. This guy looked like I had ordered him out of a catalog.
I flicked his earlobes repeatedly, to be certain he was out cold. There was no reaction to my intrusions.
Trying to be methodical in undressing failed. My curiosity, actually my hunger for dick, drove me to grope that crotch. And there it was, the boner caused by sudden violent trauma just like I had read about. It was good and hard, maybe 7, maybe even 8 inches long. My heart pounded steadily with excitement as I rubbed my hand on the warm solid inside the pants. The underwear must be loose to allow so much free play. I stroked my face along the rod and took time to savor the ecstasy.
With so much performance sprouting in the crotch, I was recharged to continue stripping. I whizzed the black plastic zipper down the front of the hoodie. Inside, I could feel the silkiness of one of the new slick poly athletic shirts. It let my hands slips so easily over the flat sharply defined pecs, the stiffened nipples, and down to unbelievable six-pack abs. I pulled the jacket apart to get a look at what I hoped would be a perfect torso. The shiny red tee shirt delivered the promised sight. I could even clearly feel the outline of a deep innie navel. This was getting even better than my necro fantasy.
I pushed the sleeves of the hoodie off the armless shirt and down along the tops of the brawny tattooed arms. There were his broad shoulders tapering to what was certainly no more than a 30 inch waist. The chest was made to look even larger by the well-exercised arms sprouting from shoulders. Grabbing the bare biceps, I twisted my hands around them and then slid into the hairy, thick, curling, stinking, sweaty hair of the armpits. The bound hands kept the sleeves from dropping to the wrists.
“Okay BUB! Shirt lifting time!”
Again running my hands over the chest and belly, I savored the crisp musculature below. A solid tug pulled the shirt out of the waistband. Energized by a glimpse of the trail to a dick bush, I focused on the upper torso, slipping the shirt upward to follow the narrowing treasure trail. Pushing the shirt with both hands, I got it up to the brownish red nipples and then the neck. Not only was the torso delicately chiseled by muscles, but it was also embellished with a triangular mat of curling black hair rising from the trail and spreading across the pecs. I could clearly see a sharp shaving line at the base of the throat. Under all this was handsome uniformly pale rosy brown skin with a scattered array of intimidating tattoos.
It became urgent to finish lifting the shirt. My powerful tug jerked the knitted neckline roughly over the rubbery face, leaving the mouth ajar. A whiff of smokey cannabis exuded from the opening. The tang of pot only made sucking the fat pink tongue taste better. The surprisingly white unbroken teeth tickled my lips and tongue as ‘Frenched’ away. The robust glossy facial and scalp hair rustled as the fabric whooshed over the top of the head.
I laid my cheek against the left chest, at first gently nuzzling the tickling fur then brushing it more and more vigorously. I allowed myself the same indulgence on the right pec. I laid my cheek back on the left, letting it rise and fall with the faint breathing and heartbeat.
My hands fitted themselves around the throat to rub over and around the unshaven stubble. Gently I squeezed the resilient tissue as I considered the best way to prolong the life of my toy before our time together needed to end.
Setting that inevitability aside, I returned to the deep joys of lascivious exploration. I used my tongue to tickle the prominent Adam’s apple. Then I led it up the chin for licking and sucking along the jawline. At last I allowed myself to nibble the chin beard and mustache. I ran the hairs through the teeth in both my lower and upper jaws. Through all this, the intruder remained compliantly unresponsive.
At last it was time to open the pants. I pulled the knot out from the waistband and untied it. The sweatpants eased like melting butter down the loose silky underpants toward the crotch. My heart pounded strongly and evenly in my chest with ecstasy. Rolling the body first left and then right I nudged the pants below the buttocks. Fully revealed, the undies proved to be boxers; black and garishly decorated with yellow, orange, and red flames. My companion concealed great passion inside his sober pants.
At that point, I dubbed him El D, El Diablo (the devil) for his promising fiery crotch.
Hand on top of the sleezy fabric, I began to fondle his dick inside the boxers and felt it returning to full arousal. Reaching toward the crotch along the fabric’s surface, I was eventually able to slide my hand down between and eventually back and forth along the inside of the solid muscular fuzzy thighs. My hands found themselves easing back up into the boxer’s short legs toward to the bushy treasure. Pushing the legs apart gently, I massaged the balls and thick stretchy sack. Opening the vent button with my other hand I tugged out a lock of wiry black stuff. Teasing myself, I took hold of only the base of the swollen penis wanting to completely reveal it later with a mighty heave of the boxers down the legs.
In preparation, I eased the sweats down the shapely hairy calves to just above the tape around the ankles..
I knelt on the folded pants between the feet and prepared to unveil the glorious cock, the ultimate focus of my fantasies.
Slipping my fingers into the boxer’s waistband at each hip, I expertly guided the underwear down the belly. Cooperatively, the slick fabric writhed to the base of the tumescent cock. My eyes lingered on the thick bush of black springing upward. I forced my hand into the depth of the curly pubic hairs, tingling like tiny vines spiraling around my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I uncovered the stiff glory, the cock rising in almost full erection with pre-cum dangling from the mouth.
There he lay, my straight rough butch completely helpless to stop me from unrestricted wagging of that proud member.
I began to bend my watering mouth to the warm seductive prick and suddenly stopped in shock.
There were needle tracks along the cock and in the veins around the crotch!
I was shocked!
A drug addict!
Not surprising, but certainly unexpected!
I pulled back with mixed horror and fear.
This punk was a drug user and probably riddled with disease.
Undoubtedly he carried the full array of STD’s and needle-transferred terminal diseases.
Damn, no bare skin cock-sucking!
“SO MUCH FOR YOUR FULFILLING MY NECRO SEX FANTASIES!” I agonized.
In rage, I slugged the handsome face repeatedly. Continuing to vent, my fists pummeled the hairy torso and smashed into his nuts. He accepted all this, unresponsive and immobile. I dragged him away from the bedside and into the wide, sparsely furnished stair hall. I rolled him onto a worn rug, as disposable as him.
After making sure my ruffian was securely fastened for the unlikelihood he would he revive, I put on some sweats. Retreating to my easy chair in the library cooled my fury and helped sort out my feelings. Knowing coffee and chocolate would help, I brewed some freshly ground and got out the dark, dark truffles. These would at least energize and get me into resolving my frustration.
There was no way this hunky addict was going to deny me the satisfaction of the perfect fantasy he launched. I feared was going to have to put aside my deep hunger for intimate living warm lips on chilling dick skin. I’d have to wait for bare cock sucking a dead man until some other fortunate happenstance.
But, certainly I could come up with something that could still satisfy my throbbing prick and aching balls.
I quickly began to formulate how I could manipulate this to maximize sexual pleasure. I could surely come up with a nontoxic way to turn this opportunity into a good save.
This thug was still available for a gratifying snuff. And, modified necro play was certainly better than no necro games at all.
I was determined to get my ‘money’s worth’ out of this dude.
After checking to be sure El D was still unconscious, I assembled the equipment for his first erotic performance. It was just basic stuff: more duct tape, kitchen plastic wrap, disposable vinyl gloves, heavy duty condoms. I set out a roll of paper towels and bleach in case of hazardous spills. The camera was set up to film the action.
First I rolled El D off the rug, setting it far from him. I spread out a large plastic sheet and rolled him back on to it. Then I positioned him on his back, knees bent to spread his legs. Since he was almost fully naked, the clothes needed no adjustment. The dick was still somewhat engorged so it was fairly easy to slip the Trojan over the glans and work it down the shaft while wearing my gloves. I made sure to leave a good bit of space above the meatus. There would be a lot of cumm generated by my plans. In anticipation of powerful thrusts, I tied one of his shoelaces at the base of the shaft.
The binding began. Since there was no blood or other excretion on the body I felt safe. I double bound the wrists and ankles, anticipating some violent jerks. The mouth received taping as well. I left the eyes uncovered in hopes of witnessing fear and panic in them. Making sure I had taken care of everything else, I began to envelop his face with the plastic wrap, painstakingly covering the mouth and nose tightly. Checking that I could still see the eyes, I continued until the roll was exhausted. To make the seal secure, I taped around the head at the top and bottom of the plastic. The head was now adorned with an air tight suffocating bag.
I sat on the floor his head between my legs, waiting for the show to begin. My knees rested on the shoulders, to keep him flat on the floor. That way I guaranteed a good view of the body’s actions on the death trip. I could also look directly into his brown eyes.
Moisture began to form inside the clear wrap. Whether conscious or subconscious in origin, the once threatening villan began to move. First with slight motions that became jerks that then turned into spasms. His hands clenched tighter and tighter. The eyes opened wide and showed the consciousness I wanted.
“What else could you expect after smashing into my home and destroying my deepest necro fantasies with your disease riddled addictions, you piece of shit!” I yelled at my captive.
Whether or not he comprehended, I had the satisfaction of voicing it.
In a few seconds he began convulsing, the dick further swelling and elongating. Rocking, his arms and legs wrestled outwards, straining the taped bonds. My hips swayed as his shoulders wrenched under my knees. I could hear agonal breathing, gagging and gasping for air. The abdomen began to move rhythmically, thrusting the hips forward. His engorged brownish-purple penis began to jerk and twitch. Entranced, I watched the tip of the condom surge outward after each splash of whitish ejaculation. After 3 lurching spurts and a few minor twitches it stilled, remaining enlarged. Again, I had to wrestle the shoulders down as El D’s body now attempted to bend at the waist and draw up the legs. After a few minutes, this decorticate rigidity relaxed with the loss of muscle tone. Finally, all respiratory movements ceased.
I assumed it was all over except the waiting to assure finality of the death.
As I leaned in closely to gloat over the accumulation in the condom, the hips thrust again almost causing me to lose the contents of the condom. I returned to pinning down the shoulders for a few more minutes until the random spasms seemed to end. A quick look into the head wrap revealed a satisfying dark liver colored face with blueish lips.
“So much for act one.”
I left him to ‘set’ while I went off to make breakfast. After all, it was going to be a long busy day after a very early morning.
A trip out to the farm shed would provide tools for El D’s next adventures.
I returned to the stair hall eager to disturb my visitor’s peaceful repose. I pulled the plastic sheet to the middle of the space, away from any furnishings . . . out of the corpse’s reach. Turning to my completely stilled companion, I leisurely examined the contents of the condom without removal. Al last I had some good luck. The tip of the rubber bulged with thick spooge. This guy was a real cummer! He was bound to be loaded with still more of the semen I’d witnessed ejaculating during his death surges. Those fat, juicy testicles were still pulled high into his groin. I quickly tied a shoelace around the base of the cock to maintain engorgement and prevent cumm loss.
Now I was free to cut and rip off the tape. While unwrapping the head I carefully avoided the trickle of blood and fluid from the left nostril. After wiping it away with a bleach-soaked rag, I considered how to plug the leaking facial openings. Fetching cotton balls from the bathroom seemed the best solution. With nostrils and mouth stuffed, I fastened the lips into a leering smile with instant glue. I wanted the nostrils to be dark holes so bits of black cloth were glued into place to keep the natural look. The ears were treated the same way.
It took both thought and effort to practice ‘safe necro sex’.
I cut the tape and tugged away the clothing for disinfecting washing later. Carefully searching the pants pockets I found a small packet with white powder that I opened and dumped into a flushing toilet. He carried a blackjack, obviously used on the door glass and probably intended for me. Then I pulled out his phone. Seeing it was turned off I left it that way to avoid tracking. I would dispose of it later in one of the rivers nearby. Aside from a short wire used for phone recharging, the pockets were otherwise empty.
I arranged him naked, full length and spread eagle, on the plastic sheet to take a better look at my toy boy. He was at about 5 foot 9 or 10 inches tall, very muscular but well proportioned. His shoulders tapered dramatically to the small, tight waist. Temptingly hairy as originally suspected, the black hair contrasted beautifully with the liver-colored lips and nipples. I had time to inspect the tattoos glimpsed earlier. The three dots beside the left eye and the barbed wire around the ankles revealed prison time; an eight pointed star on the left shoulder, ‘thief’. A satanic pentacle over the heart and a saint across his back hinted at malevolent religious entanglements. Masks and other symbols labeled him with gang affiliation. All in all, lying stark-naked and powerless in front of me was one sexy, hunky, bad dude. I was lucky I got the drop on him.
And, even luckier to have this criminal completely, helplessly available for my every lewd whim.
His history and underworld connections made anticipating my degenerate plans even more exciting.
Preparing to reap further benefit from his still-loaded balls I worked a second Trojan down the hard, heavy cockshaft. I retied the shoelace around the base of both condoms to contain leaks when his dick would again be lurching. The penis seemed secure enough for the next stage.
My devil indecorously, legs spread and dick raging hard, cluelessly awaited my attentions.
I lifted the right shoulder and let the flaccid muscles slide him onto his left side. I aligned the hips, taking advantage of the weight and looseness of the body to prepare El D for action. The left leg I bent at the knee, pulling it forward to ensure balance. The right was pulled back just enough to display the genitals nestled in the crotch. This arrangement below the waist allowed me free access to both anus and cock.
“All right stud, prepare for a jolly time. We’re gonna get your rocks off, and off, and off.”
I brought out my first device from the shed. Bought initially for the purpose of improving my livestock with artificial insemination, the electroejaculation equipment would make its cost worthwhile that today. I smeared the probe with a bit of Vaseline to help keep it clean . . . unnecessary for the comfort of my ‘bull’. I sat behind him with the probe in my right hand and the voltage control at my left. I’d read this type of equipment had been used to harvest sperm from fresh human corpses and I was ready to try it here. El D was going to give his all for me, no matter what it took. The whole setup made my crotch tingle without even switching on the controls.
Taking the handle of the probe, I pushed into El D’s liver colored rosebud. Predictably, he calmly accepted violation of his most intimate male parts with this cold hard metal. Certainly, in his condition he had no reason to expect or need privacy rights. I poked it directly toward the base of the cock with a minimum of resistance from the colon wall. The electrodes had to rest directly against the pubic glands to set off the contraction needed to ejaculation. Feeling no opposition to the inward progress I prepared to release the charge.
I didn’t know exactly what the correct voltage for a man would be. But since maximum jolt was successful in bulls, it should surely do to shoot off my devil. After all, I wanted not just some sperm but the complete drainage of his ejaculatory system. Preparing to watch the condom fill with his orgasms, I put my right hand on his hip and turned the switch. Even though I was holding the hips, powerful muscles in the left leg jerked the foot inward toward the crotch while those in the right thigh beat and beat against me. His shoulders slamming back knocked my hand off the control. Still, he made no sound. Fortunately, it was a dead man’s switch so the power cut immediately.
I chided myself for not remembering the sudden muscle reactions in the other bulls. Regaining my composure, I peeked at the condom. The cumm receptacle was unchanged. All that fuss without any man milk. It doesn’t always work the first time, I assured myself.
I wormed the prod about inside the limp body until I found a firm spot that had to be the right spot (wasn’t it called the bulbourethral gland?). Bracing myself solidly, I again turned on the juice. Held down more firmly, El D’s jerks and bounces didn’t bother me. I fact I rather enjoyed struggling with uncontrolled spasms from the big brawny brute. He certainly did not seem to want to stop bucking. I did see a thrust from the cock. The condom tip lurched with a sizeable addition of prostatic fluid and semen to the reservoir. Three additional jolts sent three more hefty spurts of seminal fluid into the plastic sleeve. At the fourth, the orgasm repeated but the output was a paler color. I continued the electric charges a dozen more times to expell the remaining prostatic fluids. Finally, the penis jumped and waggled without any release. El D was spent. I enjoyed our play so much I regretted it was over. He had no more man juice for me. Reluctantly, the probe was withdrawn and set it aside.
My bulls usually bellowed with the shocks. I heard none from El D. The sealed body openings must have suppressed sudden noisy releases of air. It was a shame, I would have savored the sounds of his grunts and moans.
I contemplated the genitals. As the cock was mostly engorged, it should continue an delightful toy. The drained nuts were now hanging low in the stretchy sack. They were just tissue never again to recharge an orgasm, but they had done their duty well. His manly balls served us splendidly. He presented me with well over a tablespoon of milky fluid.
I lifted him at his armpits to a face down position on the bottom steps, and spread his legs to prop his ass in the air. With paper towels and disinfectant handy, I untied the shoelace. Wearing plastic gloves I reached between the ass cheeks and removed the double condom, alternately squeezing the base of the sperm filled tip and sliding the latex tube down along the engorged shaft. Removed, I quickly twisted the open end and secured it with a twist tie. I wiped the condom with disinfectant, sealed it in a small freezer bag, and set it aside for later.
This pose served El D for some needed cleanup. Ass up made it convenient to shove paper towels into the fully loosened anal sphincter. In preparation for our next adventure his naughty bits required thorough cleansing. Knowing the disinfecting bleach would now have no effect on these tender bits of his death numbed body, I liberally applied it.
Rearranged to be seated upright on the treads, I again spread his legs. I sat beside his nude corpse with my arm around the shoulders, his head flopped on my shoulder. I assured him that even with the immanent loss of his erection there was nothing to fear. I would not abandon him. I repeatedly reassured him that everything would be okay. Even sperm drained, I still loved him. My fervent kissing seemed enough as he offered no misgivings.
Taking hold of the gradually wilting penis, I used an ice pick I to work a small hole in the right blood chamber, corpus cavernosa I think, at the base of the shaft. Immediately, I inserted the end of a tiny spray tube connected to a can of foam sealant. With a series of short spurts of foam I fully re-erected that side of the cock. Quickly, the same procedure was used on the left. Once again, the dick stood fully aroused. The length had not changed, but it was fuller, rounder. The penis’ elastic skin was stretched so tight it looked like it might burst. After raising it flat against his six-pack stomach, I released it and watched it spring back and waggle in splendor. A little more disinfectant wiped away a few drops of blood.
With the ejaculatory system drained, the penis mouth was still fun to play with, but had nothing left to do. It had to be sealed though to prevent any contagious drainage. I considered a bit of the foam in the cock’s mouth, but decided instead to use a drop of the all-purpose instant hardening glue. I sealed the anus with the same stuff.
“I know it feels a bit soft in spots, but the foam will set soon and you’ll have a permanent raging hard on. Your reputation will be safe.” I whispered to a vacant mind through unhearing ear.
Completely flaccid, El D gracefully cooperated as I dragged his limp and wriggling corpse to the bath tub. I tussled the heavy, muscled torso over the rim onto the bottom of the tub. A loud slap echoed in the small tiled room. The legs, bent at the knees, still dangled over the edge. There, his feet relentlessly enticed me to overcome caution. Taking a deep breath, I dumped him fully inside. Tall as he was, with bending the knees, I would be able to submerge all but the kneecaps and head. Uncaring, my trespasser let the water mixed with bleach rise around him. Again cursing him for his dangerous drug habits, I slipped fresh gloves on my hands for protection against the disinfectant.
I kept reminding myself that I would still have the fun of scrubbing and manipulating him.
Because there was bleach in the water, I couldn’t let El D stay in too long. After all, I did like his skin color and didn’t want it to fade too much. Decontamination completed, I used the hose shower at full blast to rinse him thoroughly after the tub drained. Doing the anal side was fun, but not as much as the dorsal – so much more there to bounce about.
I Eagerly discarded the thick clunky gloves. Now I could now shed my sweats and soft knitted cotton boxers.
“We’ll play like naked boys in the water!”
Kneeling beside the rim, I filled our bath partially, leaving his nipples, knees, toes and face just above the liquid surface. After pouring drops of body wash over my fingers, I indulged in washing my sexy thug. I splashed water on his face and caressed his handsome features repeatedly. I lathered the hair on his head and in his armpits, leaving the foam for later rinsing. Full bodied without being wavy or curled is the best description of El D’s head of black hair; not very long, but long enough to playfully run fingers through the dense mass. The tattoos I rubbed a bit, to make them shine and . . . . just because I wanted to. Going on, I began to lovingly work the chest hair, moving to the naked ticklish sides of the torso. Letting my hands snake downward I gradually ended up in the crotch, playing with the bobbing dick and balls. The shield of the pumped up head shown purple among the soap bubbles. I was glad to see that after all the mishandling they still floated freely. In fact, it made them quite frisky in the water. El D got into the spirit of it all as his left hand floated to the dark glans. I allowed him the pleasure of grasping and soaping his playful penis while my hand guided his.
“I’m really too good to you, you know. Not every corpse has the privilege to self-masturbate.”
Happily continuing, I soaped up and down the furry thighs, frequently bumping ‘accidentally’ into his junk. Taking advantage of the flexibility of the knees I lifted the feet and reamed between the toes with my finger . . . ‘just’ to make sure they were clean. I returned to the permanently aroused dick to indulge myself in the longed-for vigorous masturbation his vile needle use had earlier denied me.
Wiping up the wet splashes on the floor caused by turning him face down in the tub distracted me momentarily.
The tub was tight but cozy for the two of us. At least I didn’t have to worry about El D getting any air. I lay on his back, forcing his head and body deeper into the water. Now I could fully appreciate the width and strength of El D’s wide shoulders. With both hands, I stroked back and forth across the them, reveling in the hardness they still retained. As I massaged down the firm flesh I began to fully appreciate his hairy trail that started in mid-back and followed down the spine to a spot above the small of the back. There it widened down across the buttocks and led into unusually luxurious growth in the butt crack. All that ‘dirty’ hair required numerous scrubbing attacks. What joy! It was especially rewarding to plow the side of my hand up and down through this forested canyon.
On his stomach, his knees were against the end of the tub with feet sticking up into the air. I turned to park my naked butt on his. The position was perfect for running hands up, down, and around the ankles. There the body hair stopped abruptly, giving the bare feet an appearance of wearing socks. And, even more perfect for rubbing the soles of his feet. They seemed surprisingly soft for thief who spent so much time on his feet. Interestingly, there was an irregular ‘beauty spot’ on the skin on the sole at the base of the left little toe. The nails were ragged, like the finger nails. They scratched my tongue lightly and teasingly as I ecstatically slurped the toes over and over.
Obviously, in this position his head was fully submerged. I was fascinated by the waving of the hair in the moving water. Grabbing it, I could yank it up and down without raising the face above the water. I turned it to the left and engaged in one of my fantasies – using a brutishly beautiful drowned man’s head under water as a plaything. The scratchy chin and long single eyebrow were as exciting to the touch wet as dry. Sadly, the facial plugs prevented air bubbles rising from the corpse. I wished he could have experienced the panic of drowning. But being dead already, he didn’t know he was under water. Even in necrophilia, you can’t have everything.
As I dragged him out, I slapped his back on the floor and spread the knees, still on the rim of the tub. It was as arousing as gratifying to watch him in such a vulnerable, helpless position. I spread his legs a bit more to make sure I had a clear view of the cock ‘at attention’ . . . . then grabbed the camera.
Resting on a beach towel (with penguins on it I think) I let him drain a few minutes. Covering with another beach towel, I began by raising up the legs to pat downward to the torso, arms, and head. Now rewashed and thoroughly rinsed, I could safely pander to my lust for direct skin on skin contact. Naked, I sat him upright between my legs, pulled tightly to my crotch. With a thick soft Turkish towel, I gently patted the face and then churned his hair dry. The long black eyelashes came out beautifully. Using another, I dried his chest, armpits, and crotch. Dropping him back to the floor, I got up. Pulling up the hairy legs, I sat my myself with my swelling dick against his asshole. With a fresh towel, I leisurely rubbed his crotch, legs, and feet. Yes, I loved pretending that the crotch needed repeated spreading of the legs for airing out. Above the faint smell of bleach, I could detect hints of musk coming from the wrinkled bag of skin below the cock.
The front completed, I indulged in reaching around his waist and grabbing that splendid stiffie with my bare hands. It wasn’t all that hot, but oh my was it hard. My own erection rose, poking into the butt crack. Stroking and bobbing it around in the curly hair brought me to me to pre-cum . . . . . my first, and long awaited, emission. The fear that turned me off had vanished.
Pulling on El D’s right arm, I let his body weight and slack slithering muscles roll over my left leg to land down face down on a bath sheet. There I finished drying the powerless, athletic body. The tissues rolled and surged loosely with my drying strokes. Again, I marveled at the mat of hair around the ass hole. I was glad I securely plugged all the body holes earlier, there was no drainage from them into the cloth. He was satisfactorily sealed.
Now I could freely do with him as I pleased. Sprawled unwary on the floor, he had to accept it all.
I’d held back and held back and now I could rub my aching cock into the wonderfully hairy cleft between the cheeks. I frotted like never before, releasing the passion built up through all the morning’s ‘safe sex’ play. I anchored him with my left hand planted on a shoulder and my right tightly grasping the soft tissues at the front of the neck, just above the Adam’s apple. Eventually, I spurted wildly, streams across the backside spurting to the nape of the neck. Panting, I backed down the thighs and fervently kissed the hairy cheeks. I continued by nuzzling my nose up and down the plush crack.
“Okay El D, ready yourself for some well-earned real post mortem lovin’”, said as I dreamily pressed my smooth cheek against his hairy butt cheek.
We began with a little souvenir posing. I’d always dreamt of manhandling a horny corpse dressed in white ribbed long johns. So I pulled out a new soft, cotton pair. Still on the floor, El D appeared ready for anything, so he gamely accepted the tussling needed to fit them on. I eagerly began. They slipped easily up one leg at a time, leaving the black hair ring at the ankles just peeking out below the knitted cuffs. After arranging the bushy genitals at the base of the front opening, I twisted the defenseless hips to the side to pull up the garment behind him. Kneeling over the crotch, I yanked him to a sitting position where I could maneuver the arms into the long sleeves and pull the underwear up the back. Laying him down, I finished by closing all the front buttons except the lowest – to let his manhood roam free. The way the dark chest, belly, and pubic hairs showed through the thin tightly stretched fabric proved most satisfying. Amidst all this wrestling, our hard cocks inevitably engaged in swordplay of the most depraved sort. It was a foregone conclusion it would be appropriately decadent to leave the vent over the buttocks unbuttoned.
I hoisted him onto the poster bed where I left him arranged immodestly on his back with feet hanging over the mattress edge and raging hardon aimed upward at the canopy. Returning with the camera, we began to create his ‘bedtime’ series of 8x10s. Another shot had him with the left foot on the bed steps and the right leg spread apart onto the bedding, again displaying the glorious erection. At a semi-recumbent angle against the pillows, the spread legs displayed the dark purple-headed monster beautifully against the white covered belly. Another photo recorded the right hand posed on the chest to show off the gracefully curved, carefully separated, fingers. (The rough manicure and dirt under the nails remained.) I suspected the shots up between the legs would be my favorites. Drawing up the knees and then letting the fabric hold them in a V with a clear view of the cock was my favorite. (I did manage to force his left eyelid into a wink for this one.) On his side with legs together we put his solid penis up tight against the tummy. (We did cheat here as he let me tie his proud member to a button with some fine thread.) The purple headed monster looked great wedged between the post mortem curling of the right hand fingers. On a whim I dumped him on his stomach, bent the knees to poke his ass into the air, and buried his face deep into the pillows. Thus balanced, the opened rear flap of the union suit revealed the hairy butt and spellbinding crevice for lewd ogling. Some of my glistening cumm still decorated it. Gratifyingly apathetic, El D allowed me all the poses I wanted to satisfy my naughty imaginings. It took a lot of effort, but photos recording my invasions of his unguarded privacy gave me souvenirs that would be a joy forever.
Thank goodness for digital cameras, I didn’t have to worry about losing any of these priceless views.
At last it was time for our TV date. We’d watch one of the classic football matches in my collection. El D though, needed to dress for the occasion. He was similar in size to my nephew Jason, for whose birthday gift I just bought a new red and white complete football uniform. Secure in the appropriateness of the costume, I immediately stripped off the long johns. My toy thug must have approved, since the underwear flew off so easily.
Again, his sturdy corpse lay naked before me on the floor. His permanently hard tent pole made using the jock strap absurd, so I left it sealed in the box. Using it would have certainly damaged the jock strap or erection, or both. Not worth it! Considering his hips and thighs were a bit too large for the pants, the spandex seams mightily tightly along the thighs and hips. The waist was barely closeable. The super-snugness made for an agreeable sight. Fortunately the lace-up vent allowed a tolerable fit. I’d intended to leave the red laces loose for stiffie to have performance room anyway. I really should have put the long ankle-padded socks on first. But jerking the spandex cuff above the knee and then back over the stockings proved most entertaining. El D was up for some rugged game action, obviously enjoying my playfulness with his knees since the swollen cock twitched happily.
Clad in red and white socks and white knee length super-tight pants, he was ready for the TV room. Dragging him with feet on a sheet of newspaper (to keep the socks from pulling down), I dumped him on the deep leather sofa. I set the shoulder pads and jersey on the cushion beside him. Wearing my recently stained boxers, I crawled on El D’s lap to face him. The pads were pretty complicated and I didn’t know exactly how to fit them on. Somehow in the process, his cock managed to worm into my boxer vent. So we spent few happy minutes with his dick poking inside my drawers while I attempted to bedeck his shoulders with the protective gear. Manipulating those muscled arms and shoulders just added to my erotic arousal. The falsies made him look like a super hero. But stone dead as he was, it ought still have been clear to him that it wasn’t his shoulders that were going to get pounded. As I raised the arms to guide the slick undecorated shirt down to the shoulders, I wished the jersey would have some sort of symbol on it . . . . . the number 00 or RIP (rise in passion). Dressing finished, the white shoulders and red torso turned me on, especially since the spandex side panels cinching the body strained at the seams. That made my body-builder boyfriend look even more ripped. All the while, his impudent engrossed dong jutted through the red laces prodded into my boxer vent.
I left my newly minted sportsman to stare blankly at the TV screen while I changed into fresh, clean boxers.
As the game began I sat on my randy date’s left side, cuddling up to the cooling masculine body in an athlete’s tightly stretched uniform. Waiting for the kickoff, I explained our game rules.
“When either team scores points other than a touchdown, you get to grope my cock. When either team makes a touchdown, I get to play with yours. Kissing your pale lips and chewing your mustache is fair anytime.”
I didn’t tell him about the rules for halftime.
A few minutes in, there was a field goal. El D dutifully allowed me to slide his hand behind the waist of my boxers to wrap cool curled fingers around my twitching member. He felt nothing, I felt great. I abruptly amended the rules so that he had to leave his hand in masturbatory readiness till a touchdown. It would make time pass better for both of us. The hand was just the right stiffness to let me guide his strokes expertly. Another field goal, more stroking and stroking. Lacking a touchdown, I cheated and fiddled the tip of his biggie at will. With a dead guy, there’s no privacy that can be violated and . . . . you can cheat all you want. Near the end of the second quarter, the first touchdown. I thrust my impatient hand deep into his crotch, first fingering the woodie inside the lacing, then working behind it to manhandle the full length. At the same time I relished the tickling pubic hairs. The scoring rules proved most rewarding.
At halftime, I retrieved the ‘cumm bag’. I swung it before the dull unfocused eyes. Arousing my intruding cock with his unresponsiveness, I dragged the baggie down the nose and over the chin. Finally, I wriggled it around his fascinating priapism. He humbly accepted my brazen taunting. I finally placed it in front of the TV so he could keep an eye on his generous manly contribution to our party.
Molesting this hunk of manly meat without any restraint warmed the deepest cockles of my heart.
As the show bands began to perform, so did we. I boosted El D’s legs up on an ottoman. Straddling them, I sat facing him. The tip of my growing boner touched his. I slumped his face to mine, leaving space below for dick play. Slowly I pulled closer, letting my dick slide along his. My pre-cum moistening initiated mutual masturbation. Knowing he was a dry well only excited me more, driving me to splash his cock, balls, along with the lacing and jersey. My wetness glistening on him, I heaved Mr. Hunky Corpse back against the leather cushion. I fell forward, mingling my dripping fountain with his lubricated one. Face to face, I kissed the swelling pouty sealed lips and moustache repeatedly. After I slipped my hands under the jersey, I pinched and rubbed the nipples as much as I wanted while my prickled knuckles brushed the haired pecs.
When the game returned, I noticed more stiffening in the joints, especially the knees. I pulled away the ottoman so his legs would drop and spread to rigor in a bowlegged sitting position.
The second half proved uneventful on the screen, so I used the rewind on the remote to play back the second field goal so he had to dry rub his hand on my limp, dribbling cock. After all, he couldn’t gripe. The screen again showed the touchdown, so I reached in to abuse that permanently hard dick to my heart’s content. It’s so nice when you can capitulate wholly to carnal lust.
“Okay butch, you gave me a very early start this morning so it’s time for a nap.”
Lecherously pulling off the stained smelly uniform, I understood how it would become a favorite sex toy. I’d buy Jason another. I left the socks on and added the titty length practice jersey.
His sperm baggie moved to its permanent home at the back of the top shelf of the freezer.
Back on the bed, we spooned. Laid on the side, his stiffened legs’ spread allowed me to easily plow my moist dick head into the hairy crotch and against the back of the low hanging balls. My left arm snuggled into a choke hold around the thick, unshaven bull neck. I grasped his solidifying erection in my right hand as I slipped into a blissful sleep, his corpse cooling my hot body. Too dead to clean his crotch himself, it still rewarded my hand with his embarrassing stickiness of smeared ejaculations. After kissing the back of his neck, it was a nap begun with my grasp around a Devil, wishes granted and filled with wetting dreams.
On waking, “El Diablo, you did a good job as my boy toy, but you’ve got to feel buggered out. For a treat, tonight I’m taking you down into the woods for a long rest.”
From time to time I still pull out that cumm bag, my good save from my good save.
FINIS
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Crashing glass woke me. A panicked glance at the clock let me know it was just after 2 am. Hearing noises and soft footsteps I hopped from the antique poster bed into my walk-in closet. There I grabbed the ancient mahogany nightstick used by my great grandfather, a county sheriff, and waited. As a dark form crept through the door into the bedroom, I sprang from the shadows and delivered a powerful blow to the invader’s head. The figure fell to the floor with a loud thud accompanied by a solid crack as a head struck the wooden bed steps.
Naked, I was totally vulnerable. I waited silently for the potential arrival of the intruder’s partner. Hearing no further sound, I turned on the closet light but kept the nightstick raised for protection. Still no more noises, so this guy must have come alone. To protect myself, I used the dim light to smash two more solid blows to the head. With the second, there was a soft crunching sound.
Assured this person was incapacitated for a while, I went into the house to check for damage. A quick look showed only glass broken to open an exterior door; no damage to the lock I had failed to secure properly. I easily taped a cover over the hole.
To securely immobilize my visitor, I picked up some rolls of the duct tape stored beside the entry door.
The form beside the bed was motionless. Turning on more light I inspected this visitor. The overall appearance suggested a man. He wore black sneakers, black sweat pants, and a black hoodie all made of dull soft materials obviously carefully chosen to be invisible in the night. Since the head was turned to the floor, the only skin I could see was on rather large rough hands. They were light pinkish bronze in color. His nails were rough and dirty.
Fearing he would revive and attack, I began to tape the wrists together tightly over the small of the back. Taping the ankles together over the black crew socks revealed by pulling up the pants legs was next. Finally, I turned him over for my first look. He couldn’t have been more than 24 or 25. Breathing lightly and with partially closed dark brown eyes, he seemed out cold. The face, framed by the hoodie, had the same very pinky-bronze tone as the hands with the addition of a black, short, scruffy French beard and thick moustache above the mouth. The high cheek bones and facial hair made for a tough, handsome face.
Was this the golden opportunity I had long wished for?
The dilemma was to call the law or not. I lived alone in the country, the house surrounded by trees. I was the only one who knew he was there. He was handsome and completely defenseless. I had always fantasized about having a unconscious or even better dead man to play with. Here was my opportunity with a handsome and very likely well-built young burglar. Who would care if some thief vanished? One less varmint in the world would be a boon.
Without hesitation, I decided!
All his menacing and strength couldn’t defend his macho from my defilement. I would strip his clothes, and diddle his dick to my hearts content. (My capacity for diddling went far beyond the endurance of any living man.) The powerful arms wouldn’t be able to protect his virgin asshole either. He would be kissed and fondled like a love doll, all his humiliation savored only by me. Limp and lifeless, he would unknowingly suffer all the sexual humiliations a straight criminal male dreaded. Fortunately, in death sexual preferences are unenforceable.
By breaking and entering this house in this defend your castle state he chose his day to die.
Kneeling beside the bed, I began to strip him. Pulling back the hood, the face turned out to be far more ruggedly handsome than it first appeared. The cheekbones and other features below the high brow were strongly chiseled. With a strong Roman nose, he looked like a Latin lover from one of those old silent films. The eyelashes were long and the eyebrows thick and nearly joined above the nose. The thick black hair was cut short, now sticking in all directions after roughly removing the hood. He hadn’t shaved for two three days so there was plenty of stubble along the jaws and down the throat. The wide cupid bow lips on the broad mouth were a dark reddish-brown. This guy looked like I had ordered him out of a catalog.
I flicked his earlobes repeatedly, to be certain he was out cold. There was no reaction to my intrusions.
Trying to be methodical in undressing failed. My curiosity, actually my hunger for dick, drove me to grope that crotch. And there it was, the boner caused by sudden violent trauma just like I had read about. It was good and hard, maybe 7, maybe even 8 inches long. My heart pounded steadily with excitement as I rubbed my hand on the warm solid inside the pants. The underwear must be loose to allow so much free play. I stroked my face along the rod and took time to savor the ecstasy.
With so much performance sprouting in the crotch, I was recharged to continue stripping. I whizzed the black plastic zipper down the front of the hoodie. Inside, I could feel the silkiness of one of the new slick poly athletic shirts. It let my hands slips so easily over the flat sharply defined pecs, the stiffened nipples, and down to unbelievable six-pack abs. I pulled the jacket apart to get a look at what I hoped would be a perfect torso. The shiny red tee shirt delivered the promised sight. I could even clearly feel the outline of a deep innie navel. This was getting even better than my necro fantasy.
I pushed the sleeves of the hoodie off the armless shirt and down along the tops of the brawny tattooed arms. There were his broad shoulders tapering to what was certainly no more than a 30 inch waist. The chest was made to look even larger by the well-exercised arms sprouting from shoulders. Grabbing the bare biceps, I twisted my hands around them and then slid into the hairy, thick, curling, stinking, sweaty hair of the armpits. The bound hands kept the sleeves from dropping to the wrists.
“Okay BUB! Shirt lifting time!”
Again running my hands over the chest and belly, I savored the crisp musculature below. A solid tug pulled the shirt out of the waistband. Energized by a glimpse of the trail to a dick bush, I focused on the upper torso, slipping the shirt upward to follow the narrowing treasure trail. Pushing the shirt with both hands, I got it up to the brownish red nipples and then the neck. Not only was the torso delicately chiseled by muscles, but it was also embellished with a triangular mat of curling black hair rising from the trail and spreading across the pecs. I could clearly see a sharp shaving line at the base of the throat. Under all this was handsome uniformly pale rosy brown skin with a scattered array of intimidating tattoos.
It became urgent to finish lifting the shirt. My powerful tug jerked the knitted neckline roughly over the rubbery face, leaving the mouth ajar. A whiff of smokey cannabis exuded from the opening. The tang of pot only made sucking the fat pink tongue taste better. The surprisingly white unbroken teeth tickled my lips and tongue as ‘Frenched’ away. The robust glossy facial and scalp hair rustled as the fabric whooshed over the top of the head.
I laid my cheek against the left chest, at first gently nuzzling the tickling fur then brushing it more and more vigorously. I allowed myself the same indulgence on the right pec. I laid my cheek back on the left, letting it rise and fall with the faint breathing and heartbeat.
My hands fitted themselves around the throat to rub over and around the unshaven stubble. Gently I squeezed the resilient tissue as I considered the best way to prolong the life of my toy before our time together needed to end.
Setting that inevitability aside, I returned to the deep joys of lascivious exploration. I used my tongue to tickle the prominent Adam’s apple. Then I led it up the chin for licking and sucking along the jawline. At last I allowed myself to nibble the chin beard and mustache. I ran the hairs through the teeth in both my lower and upper jaws. Through all this, the intruder remained compliantly unresponsive.
At last it was time to open the pants. I pulled the knot out from the waistband and untied it. The sweatpants eased like melting butter down the loose silky underpants toward the crotch. My heart pounded strongly and evenly in my chest with ecstasy. Rolling the body first left and then right I nudged the pants below the buttocks. Fully revealed, the undies proved to be boxers; black and garishly decorated with yellow, orange, and red flames. My companion concealed great passion inside his sober pants.
At that point, I dubbed him El D, El Diablo (the devil) for his promising fiery crotch.
Hand on top of the sleezy fabric, I began to fondle his dick inside the boxers and felt it returning to full arousal. Reaching toward the crotch along the fabric’s surface, I was eventually able to slide my hand down between and eventually back and forth along the inside of the solid muscular fuzzy thighs. My hands found themselves easing back up into the boxer’s short legs toward to the bushy treasure. Pushing the legs apart gently, I massaged the balls and thick stretchy sack. Opening the vent button with my other hand I tugged out a lock of wiry black stuff. Teasing myself, I took hold of only the base of the swollen penis wanting to completely reveal it later with a mighty heave of the boxers down the legs.
In preparation, I eased the sweats down the shapely hairy calves to just above the tape around the ankles..
I knelt on the folded pants between the feet and prepared to unveil the glorious cock, the ultimate focus of my fantasies.
Slipping my fingers into the boxer’s waistband at each hip, I expertly guided the underwear down the belly. Cooperatively, the slick fabric writhed to the base of the tumescent cock. My eyes lingered on the thick bush of black springing upward. I forced my hand into the depth of the curly pubic hairs, tingling like tiny vines spiraling around my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I uncovered the stiff glory, the cock rising in almost full erection with pre-cum dangling from the mouth.
There he lay, my straight rough butch completely helpless to stop me from unrestricted wagging of that proud member.
I began to bend my watering mouth to the warm seductive prick and suddenly stopped in shock.
There were needle tracks along the cock and in the veins around the crotch!
I was shocked!
A drug addict!
Not surprising, but certainly unexpected!
I pulled back with mixed horror and fear.
This punk was a drug user and probably riddled with disease.
Undoubtedly he carried the full array of STD’s and needle-transferred terminal diseases.
Damn, no bare skin cock-sucking!
“SO MUCH FOR YOUR FULFILLING MY NECRO SEX FANTASIES!” I agonized.
In rage, I slugged the handsome face repeatedly. Continuing to vent, my fists pummeled the hairy torso and smashed into his nuts. He accepted all this, unresponsive and immobile. I dragged him away from the bedside and into the wide, sparsely furnished stair hall. I rolled him onto a worn rug, as disposable as him.
After making sure my ruffian was securely fastened for the unlikelihood he would he revive, I put on some sweats. Retreating to my easy chair in the library cooled my fury and helped sort out my feelings. Knowing coffee and chocolate would help, I brewed some freshly ground and got out the dark, dark truffles. These would at least energize and get me into resolving my frustration.
There was no way this hunky addict was going to deny me the satisfaction of the perfect fantasy he launched. I feared was going to have to put aside my deep hunger for intimate living warm lips on chilling dick skin. I’d have to wait for bare cock sucking a dead man until some other fortunate happenstance.
But, certainly I could come up with something that could still satisfy my throbbing prick and aching balls.
I quickly began to formulate how I could manipulate this to maximize sexual pleasure. I could surely come up with a nontoxic way to turn this opportunity into a good save.
This thug was still available for a gratifying snuff. And, modified necro play was certainly better than no necro games at all.
I was determined to get my ‘money’s worth’ out of this dude.
After checking to be sure El D was still unconscious, I assembled the equipment for his first erotic performance. It was just basic stuff: more duct tape, kitchen plastic wrap, disposable vinyl gloves, heavy duty condoms. I set out a roll of paper towels and bleach in case of hazardous spills. The camera was set up to film the action.
First I rolled El D off the rug, setting it far from him. I spread out a large plastic sheet and rolled him back on to it. Then I positioned him on his back, knees bent to spread his legs. Since he was almost fully naked, the clothes needed no adjustment. The dick was still somewhat engorged so it was fairly easy to slip the Trojan over the glans and work it down the shaft while wearing my gloves. I made sure to leave a good bit of space above the meatus. There would be a lot of cumm generated by my plans. In anticipation of powerful thrusts, I tied one of his shoelaces at the base of the shaft.
The binding began. Since there was no blood or other excretion on the body I felt safe. I double bound the wrists and ankles, anticipating some violent jerks. The mouth received taping as well. I left the eyes uncovered in hopes of witnessing fear and panic in them. Making sure I had taken care of everything else, I began to envelop his face with the plastic wrap, painstakingly covering the mouth and nose tightly. Checking that I could still see the eyes, I continued until the roll was exhausted. To make the seal secure, I taped around the head at the top and bottom of the plastic. The head was now adorned with an air tight suffocating bag.
I sat on the floor his head between my legs, waiting for the show to begin. My knees rested on the shoulders, to keep him flat on the floor. That way I guaranteed a good view of the body’s actions on the death trip. I could also look directly into his brown eyes.
Moisture began to form inside the clear wrap. Whether conscious or subconscious in origin, the once threatening villan began to move. First with slight motions that became jerks that then turned into spasms. His hands clenched tighter and tighter. The eyes opened wide and showed the consciousness I wanted.
“What else could you expect after smashing into my home and destroying my deepest necro fantasies with your disease riddled addictions, you piece of shit!” I yelled at my captive.
Whether or not he comprehended, I had the satisfaction of voicing it.
In a few seconds he began convulsing, the dick further swelling and elongating. Rocking, his arms and legs wrestled outwards, straining the taped bonds. My hips swayed as his shoulders wrenched under my knees. I could hear agonal breathing, gagging and gasping for air. The abdomen began to move rhythmically, thrusting the hips forward. His engorged brownish-purple penis began to jerk and twitch. Entranced, I watched the tip of the condom surge outward after each splash of whitish ejaculation. After 3 lurching spurts and a few minor twitches it stilled, remaining enlarged. Again, I had to wrestle the shoulders down as El D’s body now attempted to bend at the waist and draw up the legs. After a few minutes, this decorticate rigidity relaxed with the loss of muscle tone. Finally, all respiratory movements ceased.
I assumed it was all over except the waiting to assure finality of the death.
As I leaned in closely to gloat over the accumulation in the condom, the hips thrust again almost causing me to lose the contents of the condom. I returned to pinning down the shoulders for a few more minutes until the random spasms seemed to end. A quick look into the head wrap revealed a satisfying dark liver colored face with blueish lips.
“So much for act one.”
I left him to ‘set’ while I went off to make breakfast. After all, it was going to be a long busy day after a very early morning.
A trip out to the farm shed would provide tools for El D’s next adventures.
I returned to the stair hall eager to disturb my visitor’s peaceful repose. I pulled the plastic sheet to the middle of the space, away from any furnishings . . . out of the corpse’s reach. Turning to my completely stilled companion, I leisurely examined the contents of the condom without removal. Al last I had some good luck. The tip of the rubber bulged with thick spooge. This guy was a real cummer! He was bound to be loaded with still more of the semen I’d witnessed ejaculating during his death surges. Those fat, juicy testicles were still pulled high into his groin. I quickly tied a shoelace around the base of the cock to maintain engorgement and prevent cumm loss.
Now I was free to cut and rip off the tape. While unwrapping the head I carefully avoided the trickle of blood and fluid from the left nostril. After wiping it away with a bleach-soaked rag, I considered how to plug the leaking facial openings. Fetching cotton balls from the bathroom seemed the best solution. With nostrils and mouth stuffed, I fastened the lips into a leering smile with instant glue. I wanted the nostrils to be dark holes so bits of black cloth were glued into place to keep the natural look. The ears were treated the same way.
It took both thought and effort to practice ‘safe necro sex’.
I cut the tape and tugged away the clothing for disinfecting washing later. Carefully searching the pants pockets I found a small packet with white powder that I opened and dumped into a flushing toilet. He carried a blackjack, obviously used on the door glass and probably intended for me. Then I pulled out his phone. Seeing it was turned off I left it that way to avoid tracking. I would dispose of it later in one of the rivers nearby. Aside from a short wire used for phone recharging, the pockets were otherwise empty.
I arranged him naked, full length and spread eagle, on the plastic sheet to take a better look at my toy boy. He was at about 5 foot 9 or 10 inches tall, very muscular but well proportioned. His shoulders tapered dramatically to the small, tight waist. Temptingly hairy as originally suspected, the black hair contrasted beautifully with the liver-colored lips and nipples. I had time to inspect the tattoos glimpsed earlier. The three dots beside the left eye and the barbed wire around the ankles revealed prison time; an eight pointed star on the left shoulder, ‘thief’. A satanic pentacle over the heart and a saint across his back hinted at malevolent religious entanglements. Masks and other symbols labeled him with gang affiliation. All in all, lying stark-naked and powerless in front of me was one sexy, hunky, bad dude. I was lucky I got the drop on him.
And, even luckier to have this criminal completely, helplessly available for my every lewd whim.
His history and underworld connections made anticipating my degenerate plans even more exciting.
Preparing to reap further benefit from his still-loaded balls I worked a second Trojan down the hard, heavy cockshaft. I retied the shoelace around the base of both condoms to contain leaks when his dick would again be lurching. The penis seemed secure enough for the next stage.
My devil indecorously, legs spread and dick raging hard, cluelessly awaited my attentions.
I lifted the right shoulder and let the flaccid muscles slide him onto his left side. I aligned the hips, taking advantage of the weight and looseness of the body to prepare El D for action. The left leg I bent at the knee, pulling it forward to ensure balance. The right was pulled back just enough to display the genitals nestled in the crotch. This arrangement below the waist allowed me free access to both anus and cock.
“All right stud, prepare for a jolly time. We’re gonna get your rocks off, and off, and off.”
I brought out my first device from the shed. Bought initially for the purpose of improving my livestock with artificial insemination, the electroejaculation equipment would make its cost worthwhile that today. I smeared the probe with a bit of Vaseline to help keep it clean . . . unnecessary for the comfort of my ‘bull’. I sat behind him with the probe in my right hand and the voltage control at my left. I’d read this type of equipment had been used to harvest sperm from fresh human corpses and I was ready to try it here. El D was going to give his all for me, no matter what it took. The whole setup made my crotch tingle without even switching on the controls.
Taking the handle of the probe, I pushed into El D’s liver colored rosebud. Predictably, he calmly accepted violation of his most intimate male parts with this cold hard metal. Certainly, in his condition he had no reason to expect or need privacy rights. I poked it directly toward the base of the cock with a minimum of resistance from the colon wall. The electrodes had to rest directly against the pubic glands to set off the contraction needed to ejaculation. Feeling no opposition to the inward progress I prepared to release the charge.
I didn’t know exactly what the correct voltage for a man would be. But since maximum jolt was successful in bulls, it should surely do to shoot off my devil. After all, I wanted not just some sperm but the complete drainage of his ejaculatory system. Preparing to watch the condom fill with his orgasms, I put my right hand on his hip and turned the switch. Even though I was holding the hips, powerful muscles in the left leg jerked the foot inward toward the crotch while those in the right thigh beat and beat against me. His shoulders slamming back knocked my hand off the control. Still, he made no sound. Fortunately, it was a dead man’s switch so the power cut immediately.
I chided myself for not remembering the sudden muscle reactions in the other bulls. Regaining my composure, I peeked at the condom. The cumm receptacle was unchanged. All that fuss without any man milk. It doesn’t always work the first time, I assured myself.
I wormed the prod about inside the limp body until I found a firm spot that had to be the right spot (wasn’t it called the bulbourethral gland?). Bracing myself solidly, I again turned on the juice. Held down more firmly, El D’s jerks and bounces didn’t bother me. I fact I rather enjoyed struggling with uncontrolled spasms from the big brawny brute. He certainly did not seem to want to stop bucking. I did see a thrust from the cock. The condom tip lurched with a sizeable addition of prostatic fluid and semen to the reservoir. Three additional jolts sent three more hefty spurts of seminal fluid into the plastic sleeve. At the fourth, the orgasm repeated but the output was a paler color. I continued the electric charges a dozen more times to expell the remaining prostatic fluids. Finally, the penis jumped and waggled without any release. El D was spent. I enjoyed our play so much I regretted it was over. He had no more man juice for me. Reluctantly, the probe was withdrawn and set it aside.
My bulls usually bellowed with the shocks. I heard none from El D. The sealed body openings must have suppressed sudden noisy releases of air. It was a shame, I would have savored the sounds of his grunts and moans.
I contemplated the genitals. As the cock was mostly engorged, it should continue an delightful toy. The drained nuts were now hanging low in the stretchy sack. They were just tissue never again to recharge an orgasm, but they had done their duty well. His manly balls served us splendidly. He presented me with well over a tablespoon of milky fluid.
I lifted him at his armpits to a face down position on the bottom steps, and spread his legs to prop his ass in the air. With paper towels and disinfectant handy, I untied the shoelace. Wearing plastic gloves I reached between the ass cheeks and removed the double condom, alternately squeezing the base of the sperm filled tip and sliding the latex tube down along the engorged shaft. Removed, I quickly twisted the open end and secured it with a twist tie. I wiped the condom with disinfectant, sealed it in a small freezer bag, and set it aside for later.
This pose served El D for some needed cleanup. Ass up made it convenient to shove paper towels into the fully loosened anal sphincter. In preparation for our next adventure his naughty bits required thorough cleansing. Knowing the disinfecting bleach would now have no effect on these tender bits of his death numbed body, I liberally applied it.
Rearranged to be seated upright on the treads, I again spread his legs. I sat beside his nude corpse with my arm around the shoulders, his head flopped on my shoulder. I assured him that even with the immanent loss of his erection there was nothing to fear. I would not abandon him. I repeatedly reassured him that everything would be okay. Even sperm drained, I still loved him. My fervent kissing seemed enough as he offered no misgivings.
Taking hold of the gradually wilting penis, I used an ice pick I to work a small hole in the right blood chamber, corpus cavernosa I think, at the base of the shaft. Immediately, I inserted the end of a tiny spray tube connected to a can of foam sealant. With a series of short spurts of foam I fully re-erected that side of the cock. Quickly, the same procedure was used on the left. Once again, the dick stood fully aroused. The length had not changed, but it was fuller, rounder. The penis’ elastic skin was stretched so tight it looked like it might burst. After raising it flat against his six-pack stomach, I released it and watched it spring back and waggle in splendor. A little more disinfectant wiped away a few drops of blood.
With the ejaculatory system drained, the penis mouth was still fun to play with, but had nothing left to do. It had to be sealed though to prevent any contagious drainage. I considered a bit of the foam in the cock’s mouth, but decided instead to use a drop of the all-purpose instant hardening glue. I sealed the anus with the same stuff.
“I know it feels a bit soft in spots, but the foam will set soon and you’ll have a permanent raging hard on. Your reputation will be safe.” I whispered to a vacant mind through unhearing ear.
Completely flaccid, El D gracefully cooperated as I dragged his limp and wriggling corpse to the bath tub. I tussled the heavy, muscled torso over the rim onto the bottom of the tub. A loud slap echoed in the small tiled room. The legs, bent at the knees, still dangled over the edge. There, his feet relentlessly enticed me to overcome caution. Taking a deep breath, I dumped him fully inside. Tall as he was, with bending the knees, I would be able to submerge all but the kneecaps and head. Uncaring, my trespasser let the water mixed with bleach rise around him. Again cursing him for his dangerous drug habits, I slipped fresh gloves on my hands for protection against the disinfectant.
I kept reminding myself that I would still have the fun of scrubbing and manipulating him.
Because there was bleach in the water, I couldn’t let El D stay in too long. After all, I did like his skin color and didn’t want it to fade too much. Decontamination completed, I used the hose shower at full blast to rinse him thoroughly after the tub drained. Doing the anal side was fun, but not as much as the dorsal – so much more there to bounce about.
I Eagerly discarded the thick clunky gloves. Now I could now shed my sweats and soft knitted cotton boxers.
“We’ll play like naked boys in the water!”
Kneeling beside the rim, I filled our bath partially, leaving his nipples, knees, toes and face just above the liquid surface. After pouring drops of body wash over my fingers, I indulged in washing my sexy thug. I splashed water on his face and caressed his handsome features repeatedly. I lathered the hair on his head and in his armpits, leaving the foam for later rinsing. Full bodied without being wavy or curled is the best description of El D’s head of black hair; not very long, but long enough to playfully run fingers through the dense mass. The tattoos I rubbed a bit, to make them shine and . . . . just because I wanted to. Going on, I began to lovingly work the chest hair, moving to the naked ticklish sides of the torso. Letting my hands snake downward I gradually ended up in the crotch, playing with the bobbing dick and balls. The shield of the pumped up head shown purple among the soap bubbles. I was glad to see that after all the mishandling they still floated freely. In fact, it made them quite frisky in the water. El D got into the spirit of it all as his left hand floated to the dark glans. I allowed him the pleasure of grasping and soaping his playful penis while my hand guided his.
“I’m really too good to you, you know. Not every corpse has the privilege to self-masturbate.”
Happily continuing, I soaped up and down the furry thighs, frequently bumping ‘accidentally’ into his junk. Taking advantage of the flexibility of the knees I lifted the feet and reamed between the toes with my finger . . . ‘just’ to make sure they were clean. I returned to the permanently aroused dick to indulge myself in the longed-for vigorous masturbation his vile needle use had earlier denied me.
Wiping up the wet splashes on the floor caused by turning him face down in the tub distracted me momentarily.
The tub was tight but cozy for the two of us. At least I didn’t have to worry about El D getting any air. I lay on his back, forcing his head and body deeper into the water. Now I could fully appreciate the width and strength of El D’s wide shoulders. With both hands, I stroked back and forth across the them, reveling in the hardness they still retained. As I massaged down the firm flesh I began to fully appreciate his hairy trail that started in mid-back and followed down the spine to a spot above the small of the back. There it widened down across the buttocks and led into unusually luxurious growth in the butt crack. All that ‘dirty’ hair required numerous scrubbing attacks. What joy! It was especially rewarding to plow the side of my hand up and down through this forested canyon.
On his stomach, his knees were against the end of the tub with feet sticking up into the air. I turned to park my naked butt on his. The position was perfect for running hands up, down, and around the ankles. There the body hair stopped abruptly, giving the bare feet an appearance of wearing socks. And, even more perfect for rubbing the soles of his feet. They seemed surprisingly soft for thief who spent so much time on his feet. Interestingly, there was an irregular ‘beauty spot’ on the skin on the sole at the base of the left little toe. The nails were ragged, like the finger nails. They scratched my tongue lightly and teasingly as I ecstatically slurped the toes over and over.
Obviously, in this position his head was fully submerged. I was fascinated by the waving of the hair in the moving water. Grabbing it, I could yank it up and down without raising the face above the water. I turned it to the left and engaged in one of my fantasies – using a brutishly beautiful drowned man’s head under water as a plaything. The scratchy chin and long single eyebrow were as exciting to the touch wet as dry. Sadly, the facial plugs prevented air bubbles rising from the corpse. I wished he could have experienced the panic of drowning. But being dead already, he didn’t know he was under water. Even in necrophilia, you can’t have everything.
As I dragged him out, I slapped his back on the floor and spread the knees, still on the rim of the tub. It was as arousing as gratifying to watch him in such a vulnerable, helpless position. I spread his legs a bit more to make sure I had a clear view of the cock ‘at attention’ . . . . then grabbed the camera.
Resting on a beach towel (with penguins on it I think) I let him drain a few minutes. Covering with another beach towel, I began by raising up the legs to pat downward to the torso, arms, and head. Now rewashed and thoroughly rinsed, I could safely pander to my lust for direct skin on skin contact. Naked, I sat him upright between my legs, pulled tightly to my crotch. With a thick soft Turkish towel, I gently patted the face and then churned his hair dry. The long black eyelashes came out beautifully. Using another, I dried his chest, armpits, and crotch. Dropping him back to the floor, I got up. Pulling up the hairy legs, I sat my myself with my swelling dick against his asshole. With a fresh towel, I leisurely rubbed his crotch, legs, and feet. Yes, I loved pretending that the crotch needed repeated spreading of the legs for airing out. Above the faint smell of bleach, I could detect hints of musk coming from the wrinkled bag of skin below the cock.
The front completed, I indulged in reaching around his waist and grabbing that splendid stiffie with my bare hands. It wasn’t all that hot, but oh my was it hard. My own erection rose, poking into the butt crack. Stroking and bobbing it around in the curly hair brought me to me to pre-cum . . . . . my first, and long awaited, emission. The fear that turned me off had vanished.
Pulling on El D’s right arm, I let his body weight and slack slithering muscles roll over my left leg to land down face down on a bath sheet. There I finished drying the powerless, athletic body. The tissues rolled and surged loosely with my drying strokes. Again, I marveled at the mat of hair around the ass hole. I was glad I securely plugged all the body holes earlier, there was no drainage from them into the cloth. He was satisfactorily sealed.
Now I could freely do with him as I pleased. Sprawled unwary on the floor, he had to accept it all.
I’d held back and held back and now I could rub my aching cock into the wonderfully hairy cleft between the cheeks. I frotted like never before, releasing the passion built up through all the morning’s ‘safe sex’ play. I anchored him with my left hand planted on a shoulder and my right tightly grasping the soft tissues at the front of the neck, just above the Adam’s apple. Eventually, I spurted wildly, streams across the backside spurting to the nape of the neck. Panting, I backed down the thighs and fervently kissed the hairy cheeks. I continued by nuzzling my nose up and down the plush crack.
“Okay El D, ready yourself for some well-earned real post mortem lovin’”, said as I dreamily pressed my smooth cheek against his hairy butt cheek.
We began with a little souvenir posing. I’d always dreamt of manhandling a horny corpse dressed in white ribbed long johns. So I pulled out a new soft, cotton pair. Still on the floor, El D appeared ready for anything, so he gamely accepted the tussling needed to fit them on. I eagerly began. They slipped easily up one leg at a time, leaving the black hair ring at the ankles just peeking out below the knitted cuffs. After arranging the bushy genitals at the base of the front opening, I twisted the defenseless hips to the side to pull up the garment behind him. Kneeling over the crotch, I yanked him to a sitting position where I could maneuver the arms into the long sleeves and pull the underwear up the back. Laying him down, I finished by closing all the front buttons except the lowest – to let his manhood roam free. The way the dark chest, belly, and pubic hairs showed through the thin tightly stretched fabric proved most satisfying. Amidst all this wrestling, our hard cocks inevitably engaged in swordplay of the most depraved sort. It was a foregone conclusion it would be appropriately decadent to leave the vent over the buttocks unbuttoned.
I hoisted him onto the poster bed where I left him arranged immodestly on his back with feet hanging over the mattress edge and raging hardon aimed upward at the canopy. Returning with the camera, we began to create his ‘bedtime’ series of 8x10s. Another shot had him with the left foot on the bed steps and the right leg spread apart onto the bedding, again displaying the glorious erection. At a semi-recumbent angle against the pillows, the spread legs displayed the dark purple-headed monster beautifully against the white covered belly. Another photo recorded the right hand posed on the chest to show off the gracefully curved, carefully separated, fingers. (The rough manicure and dirt under the nails remained.) I suspected the shots up between the legs would be my favorites. Drawing up the knees and then letting the fabric hold them in a V with a clear view of the cock was my favorite. (I did manage to force his left eyelid into a wink for this one.) On his side with legs together we put his solid penis up tight against the tummy. (We did cheat here as he let me tie his proud member to a button with some fine thread.) The purple headed monster looked great wedged between the post mortem curling of the right hand fingers. On a whim I dumped him on his stomach, bent the knees to poke his ass into the air, and buried his face deep into the pillows. Thus balanced, the opened rear flap of the union suit revealed the hairy butt and spellbinding crevice for lewd ogling. Some of my glistening cumm still decorated it. Gratifyingly apathetic, El D allowed me all the poses I wanted to satisfy my naughty imaginings. It took a lot of effort, but photos recording my invasions of his unguarded privacy gave me souvenirs that would be a joy forever.
Thank goodness for digital cameras, I didn’t have to worry about losing any of these priceless views.
At last it was time for our TV date. We’d watch one of the classic football matches in my collection. El D though, needed to dress for the occasion. He was similar in size to my nephew Jason, for whose birthday gift I just bought a new red and white complete football uniform. Secure in the appropriateness of the costume, I immediately stripped off the long johns. My toy thug must have approved, since the underwear flew off so easily.
Again, his sturdy corpse lay naked before me on the floor. His permanently hard tent pole made using the jock strap absurd, so I left it sealed in the box. Using it would have certainly damaged the jock strap or erection, or both. Not worth it! Considering his hips and thighs were a bit too large for the pants, the spandex seams mightily tightly along the thighs and hips. The waist was barely closeable. The super-snugness made for an agreeable sight. Fortunately the lace-up vent allowed a tolerable fit. I’d intended to leave the red laces loose for stiffie to have performance room anyway. I really should have put the long ankle-padded socks on first. But jerking the spandex cuff above the knee and then back over the stockings proved most entertaining. El D was up for some rugged game action, obviously enjoying my playfulness with his knees since the swollen cock twitched happily.
Clad in red and white socks and white knee length super-tight pants, he was ready for the TV room. Dragging him with feet on a sheet of newspaper (to keep the socks from pulling down), I dumped him on the deep leather sofa. I set the shoulder pads and jersey on the cushion beside him. Wearing my recently stained boxers, I crawled on El D’s lap to face him. The pads were pretty complicated and I didn’t know exactly how to fit them on. Somehow in the process, his cock managed to worm into my boxer vent. So we spent few happy minutes with his dick poking inside my drawers while I attempted to bedeck his shoulders with the protective gear. Manipulating those muscled arms and shoulders just added to my erotic arousal. The falsies made him look like a super hero. But stone dead as he was, it ought still have been clear to him that it wasn’t his shoulders that were going to get pounded. As I raised the arms to guide the slick undecorated shirt down to the shoulders, I wished the jersey would have some sort of symbol on it . . . . . the number 00 or RIP (rise in passion). Dressing finished, the white shoulders and red torso turned me on, especially since the spandex side panels cinching the body strained at the seams. That made my body-builder boyfriend look even more ripped. All the while, his impudent engrossed dong jutted through the red laces prodded into my boxer vent.
I left my newly minted sportsman to stare blankly at the TV screen while I changed into fresh, clean boxers.
As the game began I sat on my randy date’s left side, cuddling up to the cooling masculine body in an athlete’s tightly stretched uniform. Waiting for the kickoff, I explained our game rules.
“When either team scores points other than a touchdown, you get to grope my cock. When either team makes a touchdown, I get to play with yours. Kissing your pale lips and chewing your mustache is fair anytime.”
I didn’t tell him about the rules for halftime.
A few minutes in, there was a field goal. El D dutifully allowed me to slide his hand behind the waist of my boxers to wrap cool curled fingers around my twitching member. He felt nothing, I felt great. I abruptly amended the rules so that he had to leave his hand in masturbatory readiness till a touchdown. It would make time pass better for both of us. The hand was just the right stiffness to let me guide his strokes expertly. Another field goal, more stroking and stroking. Lacking a touchdown, I cheated and fiddled the tip of his biggie at will. With a dead guy, there’s no privacy that can be violated and . . . . you can cheat all you want. Near the end of the second quarter, the first touchdown. I thrust my impatient hand deep into his crotch, first fingering the woodie inside the lacing, then working behind it to manhandle the full length. At the same time I relished the tickling pubic hairs. The scoring rules proved most rewarding.
At halftime, I retrieved the ‘cumm bag’. I swung it before the dull unfocused eyes. Arousing my intruding cock with his unresponsiveness, I dragged the baggie down the nose and over the chin. Finally, I wriggled it around his fascinating priapism. He humbly accepted my brazen taunting. I finally placed it in front of the TV so he could keep an eye on his generous manly contribution to our party.
Molesting this hunk of manly meat without any restraint warmed the deepest cockles of my heart.
As the show bands began to perform, so did we. I boosted El D’s legs up on an ottoman. Straddling them, I sat facing him. The tip of my growing boner touched his. I slumped his face to mine, leaving space below for dick play. Slowly I pulled closer, letting my dick slide along his. My pre-cum moistening initiated mutual masturbation. Knowing he was a dry well only excited me more, driving me to splash his cock, balls, along with the lacing and jersey. My wetness glistening on him, I heaved Mr. Hunky Corpse back against the leather cushion. I fell forward, mingling my dripping fountain with his lubricated one. Face to face, I kissed the swelling pouty sealed lips and moustache repeatedly. After I slipped my hands under the jersey, I pinched and rubbed the nipples as much as I wanted while my prickled knuckles brushed the haired pecs.
When the game returned, I noticed more stiffening in the joints, especially the knees. I pulled away the ottoman so his legs would drop and spread to rigor in a bowlegged sitting position.
The second half proved uneventful on the screen, so I used the rewind on the remote to play back the second field goal so he had to dry rub his hand on my limp, dribbling cock. After all, he couldn’t gripe. The screen again showed the touchdown, so I reached in to abuse that permanently hard dick to my heart’s content. It’s so nice when you can capitulate wholly to carnal lust.
“Okay butch, you gave me a very early start this morning so it’s time for a nap.”
Lecherously pulling off the stained smelly uniform, I understood how it would become a favorite sex toy. I’d buy Jason another. I left the socks on and added the titty length practice jersey.
His sperm baggie moved to its permanent home at the back of the top shelf of the freezer.
Back on the bed, we spooned. Laid on the side, his stiffened legs’ spread allowed me to easily plow my moist dick head into the hairy crotch and against the back of the low hanging balls. My left arm snuggled into a choke hold around the thick, unshaven bull neck. I grasped his solidifying erection in my right hand as I slipped into a blissful sleep, his corpse cooling my hot body. Too dead to clean his crotch himself, it still rewarded my hand with his embarrassing stickiness of smeared ejaculations. After kissing the back of his neck, it was a nap begun with my grasp around a Devil, wishes granted and filled with wetting dreams.
On waking, “El Diablo, you did a good job as my boy toy, but you’ve got to feel buggered out. For a treat, tonight I’m taking you down into the woods for a long rest.”
From time to time I still pull out that cumm bag, my good save from my good save.
FINIS
Many thanks to friends and readers who encourage me. I’m glad others enjoy my intricately detailed imaginings.
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