Frazeeme

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THE ADJACENT SUITE


After two weeks of endless meetings and socializing, the contracts were finally signed. I couldn’t wait to get away from this violent country. Gladly, I settled in for a long evening of relaxing without shoes before the 18 hour trip home. Even though this was a corner room, I’d been playing the TV every night since the Suites Hostel Inn walls were unusually thin. But all seemed quiet in the neighboring suite, so I left the idiot box off.

Dozing over an anthology of Victorian necrophilia unearthed in a local flea market, I was roused by muffled male voices rumbling from the neighboring suite followed by rustling sounds of struggling and thrashing. Then quiet again.

Suddenly, a voice growled, “That’ll teach you to fuck with the ……… gang.” A door slam followed.

My heart stopped. Were butchers going room to room to rob and murder the guests? I immediately double checked the locks on my door and propped a chair against it to at least slow down an attempted entry. I sorted through the ‘kitchen’ drawer wondering what sort of weapon I could lay my hands on. There was a butcher knife.

For the next five long minutes there were no sounds at all. I peeked out into the hall . . . nothing.

Curiosity got the better of me. Maybe the neighbor needed help. So I unlocked my door of the pair connecting the adjoining suites and tried the second one. It was unlocked and I eased it open.

Timidly, I called out in my best attempt at the native language, “ Do you need help?” The response was silence.

As the door opened, I could see disorder. Chairs were overturned and clothes scattered. There was no sound at all, though the curtains were drawn and lights on. Opening the door farther, I could see the bed, center of the disturbance.

Understanding at once, I lurched back for my camera to record everything. It would generate a photo album for years of heavenly jerking off. I’d never before been so grateful for the confidentiality of digital photography.

There, laying spread eagle on the jumbled bedding, was the obviously dead body of a fit, muscular man. He could have been no more than 5 foot 3 or 4 inches tall. I checked his pulse to be sure. There was none. The face was pale purple with a darkening tongue sticking out. A black leather belt was still in the tight strangling position around the neck. In his early 20s, he had a light brown-olive complexion and black hair. It was cut short on the sides and longer in the center. His beard looked more like 2 to 3 days of unshaven facial stubble. I could just make out the green of his unfocused eyes under semi-closed lids. He had the look of my ideal gangster. Menacingly Beautiful!

“He’s so young and hot!” . . .

“What a fuck doll!“ . . .

“I’ve fantasized all my life about an opportunity like this!“ . . .

“And, here it is! “ . . .

“And . . . . the body’s small enough to handle easily!” . . .

“I’ll regret it forever if I don’t take advantage of this now!” . . . All ran through my head.

I jumped into the opportunity I’d dreamt about and wanted since puberty; a smallish, undemanding playmate.

Locking his corridor door from the inside, I took several deep breaths before indulging.

On the way back to the bed, I glanced on the dining table and I saw an envelope with TONY written on it.

Back at Tony’s side, I checked out my date more closely. He was wearing all white; a cotton V-neck tee shirt, cotton crew socks, and a pair of starched and ironed thin Egyptian cotton boxer shorts. The tee had pulled up the belly during his struggle, revealing short, carefully trimmed hairs leading down from the navel. The abs hadn’t yet melted away. A feather tattooed on the right thigh disappeared up behind the leg of the boxers. Protruding from the vent in the shorts was the darkish red head of a semi-engorged cock. The head, wreathed by wrinkled foreskin, proffered a drop of precum on its mouth ready to follow others that had already landed on the cotton.

Tentatively I reached into his crotch. The turgid dick was warm and while not really erect, ready for play. Pushing the fabric away, I could see the base surrounded by short, carefully groomed pubic hair. Drawn by the acidic sweet smell, I licked the tip. The liquid delivered the unmistakable flavor of cum, of fresh manhood. I wrapped my mouth over the delicious member, inviting it to massage my soft oral tissues. The dead, supple trouser snake’s performance exceeded my wildest hopes.

Drunkenly, I pulled my head back and realized this was not the place to leave my DNA. After retrieving one of the giant bath sheets (thoughtfully provided by the hotel) from my room, I unceremoniously tumbled Tony onto it. When I finished dragging him into my space, I left him on the floor. Then I went back to wipe down the doors’ hardware using one of his already damp face cloth. Thinking ahead, I pulled out a set of his clean white undies and set them on his sofa’s arm. Then I closed and locked both of the adjoining doors using the face cloth.

Fortunately, the short, dense loops of the carpeting in the rooms left no trace of dragging my solid stud muffin.

With my long fantasy wish list, my greatest problem now was what to do first. Salivating over the possibilities, I picked up my camera. A blank memory card rested next to my passport so I would remember to replace the ‘Date Night’ card before the trip home. Airport security didn’t deserve the treat those pics could give in a random search.

Tony waited for me, seductively warm and flexible.

I brought over one of the hotel’s bath robes that were too narrow for my chest. Kneeling behind, I grabbed the dead man’s hair, pulling the body to a sitting position. As his back rested against my knees, I worked first his left and then right arm into the sleeves. I slipped my arms under Tony’s armpits and hauled him to the loveseat. Plopped down to sit at the left end, he responded to my fitting the robe smoothly down the back and along the outside of the thighs with a stupid, mindless expression. I set his left arm on the armrest, his right up and open on the seat, and his legs spread. I used the belt dangling from the neck to pull the head over the back of the sofa. Through all my touching and handling, the corpse’s dick bobbed helplessly from the cotton folds, grazing brazenly against my hands. The scene made for a good photo.

Then I lifted the hairy legs onto the coffee table, carefully adjusting the angle of spread for the best view of the persistently visible cock. Logically, his right hand ended up in the crotch. There it posed the shameless penis before it plunged scandalously inside the boxers. I couldn’t resist resting the right leg against the sofa arm at a raised angle and leaving the left still on the low table. Once again offering his dick, he was the picture of sublime submission. After digitally recording these poses and more from a variety of angles, I set down the camera. While posing, Tony accepted being dead without hesitation.

Wearing only soft knitted boxers, I sat beside him and pulled our heads together. Stroking his tongue with my own, mine tongued it back in place. As our lips brushed I began a series of kisses on the lips and along the prickly chin line. I had to force myself to stop licking the stubbly moustache. Pulling my head back, I gently caressed the cheeks as I gazed into his unfocused eyes and tousled his mane. Reapplying my face, I rubbed foreheads, entangled bushy eyebrows, and ‘Esquimeaux’ kissed his nose. All of this while Tony remained totally surrendered and unembarrassed. I produced enough enthusiasm for both of us.

Emboldened by his brazen cooperation I ran my right hand up under the tee, following the crease between the muscles in his belly and chest. I scooched as far as the diamond of soft chest fur between the pecs. Finding the nipples large and hard, I was seduced into kissing him once again. Diddling the turgid nips, I detected the aroma coming from beneath his arm. I lifted the right arm with my left and shoved my face into the hairy armpit, still damp with death sweat. The perspiration chewed and sucked into my mouth satisfied craving for his saltiness. Overcome with desire, I lurched the strangling belt to bring his body between my spread legs. Obligingly, his naked cock landed in the slit of my boxers. I felt the touch of cool moist cum planted on my hot cockshaft.

I stood and grabbed up the limp, uncaring corpse in my arms. We moved to the bed, where Tony was dropped, heaped like a pile of laundry. I sorted off the robe, socks and tee, leaving legs and arms in a tangle. Swiveling my toy on its back, I arranged the head to hang over the edge of the mattress Another fantasy was about to be satisfied. I pulled my cock out of the boxer’s vent. As I slammed the back of his head into the padding, my stiffening cock wedged into his tongue-filled mouth. Pounding into Tony, the head rebounded from the padding creating an incomparable dead skull fuck. Stopping as I began to release my precum, I held back for more wish fulfillment.

Before removing the underpants from the body, I fervently pulled back the bed covers and laid him on his back, head on a pillow. He almost glowed against the white sheets. As I had so often fantasized, I carefully pulled down the undies to reveal the pubic mound and groomed hair ever so slowly. Reaching the base of the dick, I stopped to lick and kiss it. This I continued at each step as the penis was gradually uncovered. Once I slipped the slick cotton to the mid-thighs, I found my lips nibbling the vein of the fully revealed chubby. My nose thrusting against the basal muscle at the bottom of the shaft seemed to force another drop of the semen flavored mucus to emerge. I stared at it while my chin rested unsteadily on the shifting contents of the wrinkled ball sack. The smell of man stank was almost overpowering. I especially loved that he was too dead to know I was fiddling with his nads.

The boxers glided smoothly over his lightly furred legs during the final removal.

I was so lightheaded I can barely remember stripping off my own drawers.

After tossing them, I climbed on the bed alongside my new best friend. I turned us face to face. As much as I loved mingling dicks with my live partners, I loved mingling with this heavy flopping corpse dick even more. We both added to the cum slickening the cocks. I was spoiled for life.

Of course, by now I had a raging hard on. I twisted the limp uncoordinated body onto its stomach. Tony’s firm muscular ass offered an irresistible, indifferent subservience. I stuck my nose between the cheeks and stroked along the crease until I reached the top, where I sloppily kissed those deep dimples alongside the base of the spine. The cleavage between those powerful gluts promised more fulfillment of long time desire. One of my wildest, most irrational dreams had always been to frott the butt of such an iconic dead man. I straddled Tony’s hips and grabbed the belt as a bridle. Following my heated stiffie’s lead, I surged along that crack and came almost instantly. The spurts were so violent that jism shot above the nape of the neck. I admired my white droplets on that black hair until I closed my eyes before lying to rest on the solid cooling back of the fuck toy. My only regret . . . . I wish I could have held back longer.

But, riding that dead horse was just too exciting!

Time was fleeting and I knew I had to put things back into order before long. There was still the necessary cleanup. After all, Tony was now encrusted with my DNA. Even in this backward country, that wouldn’t be missed.

But first, more pictures.

My problem solving skills kicked in. The hotel had been most accommodating when I requested large quarters for my work. Fortuitously, my spacious room was also fitted out for limited mobility guests. Although I had used the living room to advantage, I hadn’t really needed the bathroom’s unique features. Most conveniently, it had a large roll-in shower for wheelchair access. The sizeable bathroom even housed therapeutic equipment for special needs users. These included a large, weighted to provide upright balance, vertical hand truck. It was designed to aid those unable to stand because of injury or obesity. The upright back was a metal framework made of sturdy steel rods that was set in a large flat platform of textured plastic. It seemed just the right tool to combine my clean-up needs with a few more fantasies.

With all the agitation of the dead body, it seemed likely there would be more drooling from the uncontrolled crotch than cumdrops. No need to leave brown stains for the cleaners to cluck over. I moistened a wash cloth with warm water and tucked it up the loosening asshole. In the process a few rivulets of shit juice leaked out.

“Just in time!” I congratulated myself.

Wheeling the ReTurn (as the hand truck was labeled) to the side of the bed, I tipped the back onto the floor.

We began our next cooperative adventure. As I heaved the corpse to edge of the bed, I heard a soft groan. Though I knew it was just gasses escaping over the vocal cords, it still sounded much like a moan of pleasure.

“I’m moaning with pleasure too, Tony,” as I stroked his rippled, fuzzy belly.

Maneuvering first the wrists, then the ankles, I aligned the body with the truck. Then I gently eased it down to the metal framework placing the pliant soles of his feet against the plastic platform. I couldn’t afford to leave unexplained bruises on the corpus delictus. Tony sighed a few more times as I arranged him on the truck. Sweetly, he remained a patient, powerless hunk of love doll.

The truck was just the right height for my plans. Taking terrycloth belts from the hotel robes, I passed one over the shoulder and under the armpit on each side, tying these onto the top rail of truck’s upright back frame. To avoid slipping, I strapped the two belts together behind Tony’s back.

Time for the test. I carefully tipped the truck upright. The feet rested flatly on the plastic. There was only a slight bend forward at the knees. The ties around the shoulders held perfectly. The head dropped drunkenly to one side and needed attention. Straining the strangling belt to tighten against the throat, I pulled it to one of the back rods and tied it. This managed to hold the head upright.

Now he was standing naked before me and I could somewhat dispassionately survey the tats. There was the large feather on his right thigh that disappeared beneath his boxers. Now I saw it ended on that ticklish crease where the leg joins the torso. On his right shoulder, a tiny frog peered out from behind one of the terrycloth ties. These were the visible ones. I remembered seeing a star atop the right shoulder blade. Surprisingly, none were designs typical of gang association.

Time for another set of photos.

It was a lot of fun driving the “Tonymobile” to the bathroom. The head and hands jerked playfully. But even better was the jiggling of the balls accompanied with the swaying and banging of the turgid uncircumcised cock. It hung in its full 7 inches of bouncy flesh. The whole package rolled easily into the shower.

Though our time together was growing short, I couldn’t help but succumb to that sexy ‘come hither’ of the caveman pose. I finally got around to fondling those stiffening hands. As I dreamily sucked each of the fingers, the rough manicure tickle my tongue. The calloused palms scratched my chest and balls so exquisitely. They felt even better wrapping around my cock. Then, I had to kiss his cooling lips again as I fondled that juicy third leg hanging in front of me. The one-eyed monster was so enticing. Tony’s unembarrassed subservience brought back my stiffie. So, I quickly jerked off on his pubes, reserving some of the cum to wipe across his lips.

“Ohhh . . . . . you’re such a good boy!”

Fucked out, I turned begrudgingly to the cleanup. First I tugged a shower cap over that sleek black mane – no freshly washed hair for his eventual finders. I used another one to water proof the belt hanging from the neck. All I needed now to purge my traces from the body was a thorough washing.

Under the gentle warm sprinkle of the rainforest showerhead, I re-engaged my hot dead guy fantasies. It was so easy to approach that vulnerable display of naked manliness waiting for my jostling. Standing cock to cock I scrubbed his face, neck, shoulders, and fuzzy chest with the hotel’s body wash. The nips were stiffening and the washcloth caught on the points. He was still up for fun. Farther down the torso, I soaped the furry belly and carefully groomed dangler bush. Continuing to rub dick against dick I reached around the narrow waist, fully cleansing my cum from the small of his back and furry butt crack. Although I was careful not to enter and leave sperm in the anus, I washed out the sphincter too. Finally, this was the right time to pass my hands along the crease under the glutes and give those fine cheeks massaging caresses. That pushed his heavy dong into my dick bush again. I stepped back, and taking a deep, deep breath lifted the penis and gently pulled back the foreskin. The was no smegma. Since his cock and juice had tasted so sweet, I wasn’t surprised to find careful hygiene. Whoever insisted on the cropped dick hairs probably demanded that as well. Holding our dicks in my hand, I jerked both with soap to a pleasure that wasn’t mutual; just mine. Running my soapy hands up and down his hairy legs was plain old fashioned fun. Finally his feet. They needed to be cleaned, but not too thoroughly. I would love to have sucked between the toes but I had to leave the jam and lint behind, again to protect myself. Tony would’ve loved it all.

I left the cloth up his ass to prevent any brown trail across the floor.

Drying also satisfied fantasy. Rubbing the loose shifting muscles of the pliant corpse made the work light. It was finished too soon, given the short body fur and smooth skin on the small body. Obviously I had to take special care to dab the fat dick; inside and outside the foreskin. Again, rubbing up and down the legs was dizzying. I untied the body and carefully laid it on the bath sheet, wiping the soles of his feet dry.

Using the big towel, I lugged the object of my tender molestations to his room. The fibers from all the hotel’s linens would be the same, raising no suspicions. First I rubbed the feet on the carpet to pick up fibers that matched the room. After lifting him on the bed, I flopped him on his stomach to suggest that any bruising on the backside came from the perverted murderer. Any marks I might have made tugging the strangle belt would be concealed by the actual death struggle damages. Pulling out the shitty wash cloth, the body stained itself and the bedding. The plug, as well as the dragging towel, I took back with me.

To avoid suspicion from the local authorities, I did everything I could think of to leave no trace of that gloriously passionate evening. My date had been thoroughly scrubbed and ass plug removed to stain the body on top of its bed. After pulling out the tongue, I smeared it and the lips with his drying saliva. Both were sprinkled with his mouthwash. Fortunately, that fruitful cock was still delivering beads of semen. That trait is so variable in corpses so no suspicion should be aroused. I never removed the strangling belt. While I’d dried it, it remained partially damp. There would be enough time before some housekeeper’s discovery of the corpse for it to dry. I’d made sure to wipe down all the hard surfaces in his room next door with the wet face cloth carrying Tony’s DNA, leaving it in his bath. I’d run the shower and wet towels to simulate his own use. The correct number of hotel linens were in each room. The suite connection doors were both locked. (Tony would certainly have seen to locking his side.) His corridor door was unbolted from the inside. His clean undies were out, suggesting that the ones he’d been wearing were among the already dirty in his bag.

All I would allow myself after the final placement was to bow him a kiss . . . and take a few more snaps.

I did everything I could think of to enhance the credibility of the crime scene as untouched.

There was little to do in my room except check that I hadn’t left the bath sheet next door and carefully dried the ‘ReTurn’, parking it in the original location. I carefully washed out the ‘plug’ in hot water to get rid of the brown patches. I dumped all the robes and towels on the wet soapy shower floor. There would be nothing suspicious here, should some nosey cop insist on looking. Anyway, my room would be cleaned and the linen in the laundry long before the discovery.

“That’s enough to make the locals dismiss the whole thing as simply another gang execution.”

After all, a stranger would be seen entering and leaving the hotel on the security cameras.

Wrestling through a blissful fog, I managed to finish my packing. Among the dirty clothes and usual gift coffee cups, I secreted a few special souvenirs. My smelly undies mingled with Tony’s, the stained boxers enriched with plucked black pubic hairs. The shower cap retaining strands of his hair nestled with the damp equipment in my toiletry bag. My greatest treasure, the ‘Dreams Come True’ photo collection, was buried in the stack of architecture, scenery, and business event memory cards. The bags were not unusually full, nor filled with strange objects to alert security.

After a little contented snoozing, the alarm rang much too soon. At 5:30am my bags were in the hall and ready for transfer to airport long before housekeeping would find my ‘dream boy’. I cheerfully responded to the checkout clerk’s invitation to return with a, “Can’t wait to.” I knew I wouldn’t, though this place had given me the best experience of my life. My evening of ‘dreams come true’ turned from one of rest to one of that refreshment that comes from deep satisfaction. Naturally, I was physically exhausted. Though I generally can’t sleep on planes, this time my economy class seat was like the coziest of beds. I would repose like a prince for the next 10 hours. As my plane lifted from the runway, I was relieved to get out of that lawless country and it’s violent devils.


Of course, I never, never, never regretted my unexpected rendezvous with one of them.




Thanks to help from friends, I’m having more and more fun writing these stories, hope you’ll find them fun too. If you liked this, I’ve several other stories in this CDG Forum.

Comments and suggestions are always welcome.
 
Last edited:

callmecaleb

A man is a tasty morsel.
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Awesome! A necro dream. Made more exciting with the danger of discovery.
 

Frazeeme

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Dec 16, 2014
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If you really enjoyed this, click on the 'rate this thread' at the top of the thread. It encourages me. Thanx :hi bye:
 
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