MichiganGhoul
Forum Regular
- Joined
- Dec 22, 2008
- Messages
- 65
- Location
- Detroit, Michigan, USA
The two middle aged men stood silently for several seconds and took a collective deep breath before Art spoke up. "He....um....they did a nice job, the staff, that is...." "Yes, yes they did", Steven rejoined. "Especially since Brent was under water a good 24 hours before....they could find the....the.....You know, they dragged those first few hours, the rescue boats and that, but its the ocean, after all and....it's lucky, I mean, in that sense, that he, that the body did wash up the next day. The fishermen found him on the sand, when they went out with the nets, well, you know......They snagged him, in.....around the beach, not that deep, and....um.....well....."
Sensing how hard it was for his friend to go on, Art tactfully and gently interrupted with a suggestion at that point. "Steven, you know, you're probably hungry, if you want to grab a bite to eat, I could stay in case any others show up..." "Oh", the bereaved and emotionally exhausted dad broke in. "If you would, I would really....yeah, that would be great! I just need a burger, some fries and a drink, half an hour, just to get away..." "Sure, sure, buddy", Art rejoined. "Go ahead, take your time and I'll maintain the honor guard here." The last statement brought a small smile to Steven's face and, after a firm handshake, the father departed for the diner down the street.
As he heard the front door of the funeral parlor close behind his friend, Art gingerly stepped out of the chapel and into the hallway of the funeral home. Having sat in his car for several minutes before entering, he knew the three staff members had gone to lunch just prior to his entrance. Still, it would not hurt, he reasoned, to take a quick look around the place to ensure that he was indeed the only occupant present at the time.
"I hate to take advantage of a friendship", he mused to himself while walking quickly back to the chapel, "but let's face it: I've wanted Brent for a long, long time and this is my absolute last chance to get a piece of the pie!" As he gazed once more at the pale and prepared cadaver of the 19 year old lad, he stood for several seconds as though mesmerized by its lifeless and morbid perfection. Not wishing to waste any further time, Art reached up slightly to the level of the casket. His right hand graced the waxy cheek of the body as he bent down to bestow a kiss on its cool lips.
With a slight trace of the pink lip gloss remaining on his own face, the already rock hard man quickly undid the zipper to his own trousers. His right hand began slowly stroking his throbbing cock as his left hand methodically unbuttoned the buttons on the prop 'suit coat' worn by the 'guest of honor.' From that point, it was a simple matter of unfastening one snap on the funeral home shirt worn by the corpse before he was rubbing the smooth, hairless chest of the young cadaver.
The classic 'Y' shaped autopsy scar served as morbid decor to the corpse's dissected and damaged torso. Art's hands, which were now shaking slightly from the passion and adrenaline of the moment, caressed and tugged at the coarse stitching. His hands virtually devoured the teenage cadaver's dime sized nipples, tweaking them in a way that would have surely brought cries of pain from a living man.
His open palm caressed and rubbed the cadaver's form in a downward motion, passing by the 'innie' belly button and down to the pelvic area. The pants section of the suit was only held in place by a single ply of Velcro and to Art's delight, the cadaver was not wearing any underwear. His eyes flashed open wildly and his already rapid heartbeat increased as his right hand closed in on the soft, flaccid, uncircumcised 19 year old cock of Brent's corpse. A thin, peach fuzz layer of pubic hair surrounded it as though it were acting as a genital funeral wreath.
To this day, Art cannot explain exactly how the following act came to be or how long it took him to achieve it, but after what literally felt like a one second time lapse, Art 'found' himself sucking on the dead lad's cool and unfeeling dick! The lower section of the casket lid had been opened up and the 'pants' (which were in reality only three quarter cut tubes of cloth with a faux front for display purposes) had somehow been pushed nearly to the ankles of the corpse. Art's own pants and boxer shorts were likewise around his ankles. For several long, satisfying minutes, the burly middle aged gentleman took the corpse-cock into his hungry mouth, sucking its lifeless flesh in with his lips; licking and tasting its arid skin with his hot tongue; inhaling the scent of mildly old crotch sweat, faint urine and mortician's wax; gazing alternately at the dead lad's pale, sea water bleached pubic area;
feeling the stiff, slightly cool and almost stone like touch of its taut yet slim legs.....
Since the cadaverous penis had been shrunk to a fraction of its hard on size, Art was also able to engulf the entire genital area into his mouth during particularly forceful gulps. This allowed him to savor the feel of young Brent's slightly swollen, purplish-white scrotum. He smiled slightly and grunted while rolling the young man's balls around in his mouth. He then shook his head from side to side and clamped down slightly as his tongue simultaneously sampled the flavors of the corpse's sweet, flaccid dick and nearly hairless, bloated ball sack. It was at this time that the lustful older man felt the fires of orgasm boiling in his own sack.
Standing up and moaning loudly, Art began to spray load after load of geyser-hot semen onto Brent's dry and dead face. Thick, creamy white loads of cum shot forth with even greater force than Art had expected. By the time he was finished shooting his load, traces of man cum were present across the dead body's right cheek, lips, nose and sealed eye sockets. A thick stream that was spewed mid way through his orgasm clung like an erotic spider web to the inner lid of the casket.
When he was at last spent, Art placed his hands across the brass pallbearer rail of the coffin and took several deep breaths. He smiled at the sight of the dead young lad's face covered in cum as well as the view of the pallid and rigid cadaverous form in general, yet he also knew that his friend would be returning in the next 5 - 10 minutes. This meant that he had to work rather hastily to restore the scene to its original state. With speedy determination, Art managed to get the cadaver, casket and himself into 'presentable condition' within just under 7 minutes time. He then walked to the funeral parlor's men's room where, in a state of nearly complete physical exhaustion, he fell asleep atop the porcelain throne.
When he woke, Art rubbed his eyes and glanced at his wrist watch. "3:12 pm!", he exclaimed in a whisper that betrayed both urgency and embarrassment. "I've been in a stupor for damn near four fucking HOURS!!" Adjusting his clothing, Art quickly washed his hands and exited the facility. He wondered if his Steven had missed him, or for that matter, if anyone else had showed up in the mean time. He felt riddled with guilt for being absent for such a long period of time when he had promised his best friend in the world that he would be there for him as an 'honor guard.'
We can only imagine his shock when he rounded the corner and found Steven, father of the deceased, nervously sucking on his dead son's flaccid cock. He at first stood in awe, as though he were watching a porno flick unfold before his very eyes: The elder man sucked the dick of his late son's cadaver, moving his mouth to and fro on the lifeless organ, exactly as he himself had done only hours before. Art also noticed that Steven was grasping his own crotch and stroking his rock hard boner through the fabric of his slacks. The older man was clearly aroused by the sight, smell, feel and TASTE of his late son's cock!
"Steven!", Art called out in apprehension and with a good deal of caution. The older gent nearly had a heart attack then and there as he turned from the cadaver in mute horror, fearful that he may have been walked in on by a family member or in law. "Steven, its all right!", Art assured him. The best friend then went on to explain, in great detail, his own recent exploits with the lad's corpse. He also elaborated that there was nothing truly 'wrong' or 'immoral' about their shared actions and that, moreover, Brent would have wanted them to be happy and satisfied!
**************************************
Sensing how hard it was for his friend to go on, Art tactfully and gently interrupted with a suggestion at that point. "Steven, you know, you're probably hungry, if you want to grab a bite to eat, I could stay in case any others show up..." "Oh", the bereaved and emotionally exhausted dad broke in. "If you would, I would really....yeah, that would be great! I just need a burger, some fries and a drink, half an hour, just to get away..." "Sure, sure, buddy", Art rejoined. "Go ahead, take your time and I'll maintain the honor guard here." The last statement brought a small smile to Steven's face and, after a firm handshake, the father departed for the diner down the street.
As he heard the front door of the funeral parlor close behind his friend, Art gingerly stepped out of the chapel and into the hallway of the funeral home. Having sat in his car for several minutes before entering, he knew the three staff members had gone to lunch just prior to his entrance. Still, it would not hurt, he reasoned, to take a quick look around the place to ensure that he was indeed the only occupant present at the time.
"I hate to take advantage of a friendship", he mused to himself while walking quickly back to the chapel, "but let's face it: I've wanted Brent for a long, long time and this is my absolute last chance to get a piece of the pie!" As he gazed once more at the pale and prepared cadaver of the 19 year old lad, he stood for several seconds as though mesmerized by its lifeless and morbid perfection. Not wishing to waste any further time, Art reached up slightly to the level of the casket. His right hand graced the waxy cheek of the body as he bent down to bestow a kiss on its cool lips.
With a slight trace of the pink lip gloss remaining on his own face, the already rock hard man quickly undid the zipper to his own trousers. His right hand began slowly stroking his throbbing cock as his left hand methodically unbuttoned the buttons on the prop 'suit coat' worn by the 'guest of honor.' From that point, it was a simple matter of unfastening one snap on the funeral home shirt worn by the corpse before he was rubbing the smooth, hairless chest of the young cadaver.
The classic 'Y' shaped autopsy scar served as morbid decor to the corpse's dissected and damaged torso. Art's hands, which were now shaking slightly from the passion and adrenaline of the moment, caressed and tugged at the coarse stitching. His hands virtually devoured the teenage cadaver's dime sized nipples, tweaking them in a way that would have surely brought cries of pain from a living man.
His open palm caressed and rubbed the cadaver's form in a downward motion, passing by the 'innie' belly button and down to the pelvic area. The pants section of the suit was only held in place by a single ply of Velcro and to Art's delight, the cadaver was not wearing any underwear. His eyes flashed open wildly and his already rapid heartbeat increased as his right hand closed in on the soft, flaccid, uncircumcised 19 year old cock of Brent's corpse. A thin, peach fuzz layer of pubic hair surrounded it as though it were acting as a genital funeral wreath.
To this day, Art cannot explain exactly how the following act came to be or how long it took him to achieve it, but after what literally felt like a one second time lapse, Art 'found' himself sucking on the dead lad's cool and unfeeling dick! The lower section of the casket lid had been opened up and the 'pants' (which were in reality only three quarter cut tubes of cloth with a faux front for display purposes) had somehow been pushed nearly to the ankles of the corpse. Art's own pants and boxer shorts were likewise around his ankles. For several long, satisfying minutes, the burly middle aged gentleman took the corpse-cock into his hungry mouth, sucking its lifeless flesh in with his lips; licking and tasting its arid skin with his hot tongue; inhaling the scent of mildly old crotch sweat, faint urine and mortician's wax; gazing alternately at the dead lad's pale, sea water bleached pubic area;
feeling the stiff, slightly cool and almost stone like touch of its taut yet slim legs.....
Since the cadaverous penis had been shrunk to a fraction of its hard on size, Art was also able to engulf the entire genital area into his mouth during particularly forceful gulps. This allowed him to savor the feel of young Brent's slightly swollen, purplish-white scrotum. He smiled slightly and grunted while rolling the young man's balls around in his mouth. He then shook his head from side to side and clamped down slightly as his tongue simultaneously sampled the flavors of the corpse's sweet, flaccid dick and nearly hairless, bloated ball sack. It was at this time that the lustful older man felt the fires of orgasm boiling in his own sack.
Standing up and moaning loudly, Art began to spray load after load of geyser-hot semen onto Brent's dry and dead face. Thick, creamy white loads of cum shot forth with even greater force than Art had expected. By the time he was finished shooting his load, traces of man cum were present across the dead body's right cheek, lips, nose and sealed eye sockets. A thick stream that was spewed mid way through his orgasm clung like an erotic spider web to the inner lid of the casket.
When he was at last spent, Art placed his hands across the brass pallbearer rail of the coffin and took several deep breaths. He smiled at the sight of the dead young lad's face covered in cum as well as the view of the pallid and rigid cadaverous form in general, yet he also knew that his friend would be returning in the next 5 - 10 minutes. This meant that he had to work rather hastily to restore the scene to its original state. With speedy determination, Art managed to get the cadaver, casket and himself into 'presentable condition' within just under 7 minutes time. He then walked to the funeral parlor's men's room where, in a state of nearly complete physical exhaustion, he fell asleep atop the porcelain throne.
When he woke, Art rubbed his eyes and glanced at his wrist watch. "3:12 pm!", he exclaimed in a whisper that betrayed both urgency and embarrassment. "I've been in a stupor for damn near four fucking HOURS!!" Adjusting his clothing, Art quickly washed his hands and exited the facility. He wondered if his Steven had missed him, or for that matter, if anyone else had showed up in the mean time. He felt riddled with guilt for being absent for such a long period of time when he had promised his best friend in the world that he would be there for him as an 'honor guard.'
We can only imagine his shock when he rounded the corner and found Steven, father of the deceased, nervously sucking on his dead son's flaccid cock. He at first stood in awe, as though he were watching a porno flick unfold before his very eyes: The elder man sucked the dick of his late son's cadaver, moving his mouth to and fro on the lifeless organ, exactly as he himself had done only hours before. Art also noticed that Steven was grasping his own crotch and stroking his rock hard boner through the fabric of his slacks. The older man was clearly aroused by the sight, smell, feel and TASTE of his late son's cock!
"Steven!", Art called out in apprehension and with a good deal of caution. The older gent nearly had a heart attack then and there as he turned from the cadaver in mute horror, fearful that he may have been walked in on by a family member or in law. "Steven, its all right!", Art assured him. The best friend then went on to explain, in great detail, his own recent exploits with the lad's corpse. He also elaborated that there was nothing truly 'wrong' or 'immoral' about their shared actions and that, moreover, Brent would have wanted them to be happy and satisfied!
**************************************
