Eternity of Horror

4. Lillith

Chapter 4

Lillith

I got the death call right as I was about to turn the lights out in my prep room and head upstairs for the night. My dad really needs to hire a couple removal techs to go out and pick up these decedents. Right now, it's just him and I doing pickups. We aren't super busy, but death always seems to call at the most inconvenient times. Rude.

After getting all the details from the newly widowed husband over the phone, I grab the removal van keys from the office and go out to make sure I have my supplies. My dad and I normally go on house calls together because you don't always know what you're walking into. Most houses have stairs that make it impossible for only one person to navigate safely. This removal, however, was going to be easy peasy. The husband let me know over the phone that the home had a handicap accessibility ramp, no stairs, one floor, and his wife was an elderly woman who weighed about ninety pounds. So Dad stayed home, and I went out to do the pickup.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about this removal. The saddened widow chokes back tears as he tells me how long he and his wife were together, what she was like, and how many kids and grandkids they have. This kind of work often offers you a glimpse into the person's life. It’s therapeutic for the family to talk about all the good times right after a loved one's passing, and we’re usually the first people that they’re in contact with when it happens. I put on my sympathetic act and listen to the stories as they make their very, very brief appearance in my brain, traveling in one ear and out the other.

I wrap the lady up in the bed sheet that she died on, snug as a bug. Similar to how you would swaddle a baby, but covering their face… and the people I swaddle are dead. I mean, unless it was a dead baby you were picking up. That got dark. Anyway, once she’s wrapped, I line up my stretcher along the side of her bed and reach across. One hand near her shoulder, the other below her butt, I grip the sheet and pull her dead weight toward me. Her frail body slides across the bed and onto the cot with ease. I like easy removals like this.

The husband steps out of the room for the last part. Most families do. Something about watching their loved one being buckled in, the noise from the loud zipper on the maroon cover in particular, can give some people nightmares.

As I’m wheeling the woman outside, I offer my condolences again. He's a sweet old man. I have no doubt I’ll be back here soon to grab him up, too. As I approach the back of my van, I get an overwhelming sensation that I’m being watched. Despite it being a warm fall evening, I sense a dark energy in the air, causing shivers to trickle down my spine. I slowly turn my head toward the dark road behind my van and sure enough, there’s a man leaning against a tree, just… watching me. The blinking of my hazard lights gives me brief glimpses of the man's face. He’s just standing there, smiling at me. My gut twists in fear like I’m about to be devoured by some vicious predator. Imagine my surprise when my clit tingles as we make eye contact. Excuse me, ma'am, but that is a scary stranger smiling at us in the dark. What is happening?

I smile back and immediately feel myself getting wet. When I hear the old man calling to me, asking if everything is ok, I shake my head, mumble the same condolences I already offered, and load the woman into the van. I glance back at the tree as I make my way toward the driver's side and he’s still there, smiling with a cute, psychotic smile that’s barely visible in the dark. Just watching. His eyes never leave me.

Once I’m behind the wheel of the van, I start it up and take a deep breath. "Should we drive past him so he sees where we work?" I ask the dead body neatly wrapped up on my stretcher behind me. "Yeah, I think so too.”

I turn the van around and drive by slowly, knowing full well that I’m now traveling in the opposite direction of where I need to go. I’m scared, but at the same time, I’m hoping he’ll take notice of the name of my funeral home on the back window and come find me. I keep my eyes on the road as I drive past him. I hold my breath until I turn off of the side street. Who is this mysterious man, and why the fuck am I soaking my panties for him? I can't even remember the last living person that's made me this wet.

Pulling into the funeral home, I unload my decedent and head inside. Dad is already in my prep room with another body. "We got another call while you were out. It was just down the street, so I grabbed it. That way you didn't have to make more than one stop," my father says with a grin before putting his arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my head. "I am, however, going to let you do the check-in for me," he says with a face that looks like he’s bracing himself for a smack upside the head.

I look at who he brought in. A handsome 39-year-old man with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. By the looks of it, it was a small caliber. My panties just can't catch a break tonight, huh? "Sure, Dad, I'll take care of them. Have a good night."

"You're the best, Lilly Bean. Love you." He kisses the top of my head again before walking out. God, I fucking hate that nickname .

I quickly process the old woman I had taken into my care first. I scribble down her chain of custody and initial condition analysis forms before transferring her from my stretcher to one of the steel tables used for embalming and push her into the cooler. I take a quick peek outside the prep room door to make sure Dad has gone, standing still with the door cracked open and my ear to the hallway. The pounding of my heart in my chest is all I can hear. Coast is clear.

I turn some of the lights off so it’s dim and dark as I walk over to the other dead body. Dad already put him on a table for me so there isn't much to do... professionally. Biting my lip, I lightly trace my fingers along his hand and up his arm. "Sir, was that you staring at me outside tonight?" I ask the lifeless man on my table. His clothes have already been removed. There’s just a white sheet covering him from the waist down. I giggle.

"I saw you, ya know... staring at me. I thought you were pretty cute, too," I flirtatiously banter with him as my hand glides up his neck. "Oh… did you kill yourself just for me?" I glide my middle finger up the side of his face and make soft swirling circles around the entry wound on the side of his head. "How romantic. You wanted to see me so badly you took your own life just so you could be naked on my table." I whimper as I keep swirling my finger, gently letting the pad dip into the bullet hole just a little. "Do you like the way that feels?" I lean in closer to his ear and whisper, "This is how I'm going to touch my pussy for you. Do you wanna watch?"

I walk to the sink, dampen a hand towel, and go back to my new friend. Peeling back the sheet, I gently wash his limp cock and balls. "Very nice sir… great length, cut. You even kept your pubes trimmed and balls shaved. I bet I'm not the only person who appreciates that." I giggle as I pat him dry.

I stare at his cock. Closing my eyes, I picture the man I saw in the darkness and his smile. My thumb gently petting the length of his flaccid penis, I lick my lips and look up at his face. "Ya know... I’ve never done this before. Well, I have done some of this, but not…" It's something I've always wanted to do but could never bring myself to try. Until now. The raging horny inferno in my chest has me ready to do literally every disgusting thing that's ever crossed my mind. I lean down, peel his cock off his balls so it’s pointing up at my face, open my mouth, and guide him inside.

Even though it’s room temperature, the soft, squishy flesh feels cold. A living body is so much warmer than this, so the fact that I can immediately tell the dick in my mouth is owned by a corpse has my pussy leaking like a faucet. I slowly bob my head up and down, wrapping my index finger and thumb tightly around the base to keep it from flopping away from me. Using my other hand, I eagerly undo my pants and strip them down. The cool air hits the hot arousal that's now coating my labia, making goosebumps travel down my legs. My nipples harden instantly as I whimper around him. I wish so much that his dead cock would get hard in my mouth. I want to gag on his dick in the worst fucking way.

I pull my mouth away, leaving it slick with my saliva, and finish taking my pants off. With just a step or two, I'm next to his face. I pull his eyelids open and tilt his head toward me. "Look." I spread my cunt. “Look what you did to me. First from watching me work, to the most romantic gesture anyone has ever done for me. I've gotten flowers before, but nobody has killed themselves just to be with me. Oh, did you like what I did with your cock? I don't have a ton of experience, but... yeah? You liked it?" I giggle, my voice the only one in the room. "Well... I think it's only fair since I tasted you, and I'm only this wet because of you, that you get a taste of me," I say bashfully as I take my middle and ring finger on my right hand and bury them into my sopping wet pussy, giving them a gentle swirl that makes my breath catch before pulling them out. "Open wide," I tell him as I take my dry hand and press down on his chin, opening his mouth.

A little bit of blood and some purge seep out as my slick fingers glide down his dry tongue to the back of his throat. I press down as I retract my fingers, making sure I wipe as much of me off in his mouth as I can. Still seeing a little bubbly wetness on the sides of my fingers, I gently twist and coat each of his lips with what remains.

I moan as I reach for a head block to prop his head up high. Normally, these are just used to keep blood from pooling into the face when prepping a body for a viewing or an open casket service. It's a nightmare if a person's head and face are dark purple from the livor mortis.

With his head in the proper position, I climb onto the table with him. I swing one leg over his torso so my cunt and asshole are on full display for him. Knowing that he’s watching me has me dripping. "Is the view okay, baby boy? Is this what you were hoping you'd see? Mmm.... maybe you should touch it. Would you like that?" I flirt.

Reaching between my legs, I grab his heavy, dead arm and pull it toward my center. He is in the perfect state of rigor where he’s not so stiff that I can’t move him, but stiff enough that I can fuck his fingers without them bending and slipping out. My perfect man.

I rest my breasts on his upper thighs as I push my ass into the air. Taking his fingers, I trace my folds and puffy, warm flesh, lathering his cold fingers with my juices. I pull on his hand and help his fingers enter my greedy cunt, whimpering for him to keep watching me. Pushing back, my grip tightens around his wrist as I work his fingers to get me closer to the orgasm that's been taunting me all night. "Harder," I plead with the dead man under me. “I need more.”

I grind on his dead fingers until they finally fuck me right over the edge. My asshole pushes open a little as I force my orgasm out around his lifeless fingers. Splashes of squirt hit his bare chest and drip down the steel table, emptying out onto the floor from the drainage hole at the bottom.

"That was the best fucking orgasm I've ever had, good sir. Thank you," I tell him as I slide off his corpse. I know this isn't the man from earlier. I know I’m a bit delusional, but I don’t fucking care. I love it. I pull my pants back on, finish his check-in paperwork, and place him in the cooler with the others.