Please wait while picture loads

Necrophilia (mf-teens, 1st, nec)
by Sarah Anne Talley (

Authors note: I am a reasonably normal woman with many fantasies. As you can see by this story, many of my fantasies are of the dark variety. I certainly don't advocate any of the actions committed in this story, and can only hope that my readers are in touch with reality. SAT

At seventeen I thought that my life was pretty much over. I was sick of feeling like a loser at school and being rejected by all the other kids in school and in my neighborhood.

Sure I am a computer geek, and I don't play sports, but I don't look like a freak or anything. Maybe I'm a lit- tle skinny, and have a somewhat rough complexion, but there are hundreds of other guys out there that could be interchangeable with me.

So why did the other kids always pick on me? What had I done to deserve this type of ridicule?


It was just past 2 a.m. when I finally turned off my computer. I had been online for more than 6 hours, since just after dinner. As the hard drive whirred to a stop I stood and stretched my tense muscles. I and looked over at my reflection in my bedroom closet-door mirror knowing full well what I was going to do.

I had been surfing the X-rated web pages again and had been sitting there for hours with my usual hardon. I stopped wearing underwear a long time ago because of the mess I'd make with my pre-come oozing all over the place. These days I always wear shorts so I can just pull my dick out and stroke it while I look at stuff on the Internet.

As usual after a long session cruising the sex-net I needed to bring myself off. So as I looked at my re- fection in the mirror I undressed, taking my time and enjoying the sight of my hard nipples as I pulled my T-shirt off over my head. The sight of my stiff cock popping into view as I pushed my shorts down to the floor always pleased me. (I think that I have a really nice looking cock.)

I stood there looking at my body looking back at me. What was wrong with me? I wondered for the thousandth time? I couldn't see any major defects, as a matter of fact I thought that my cock looked pretty impressive, and although I wasn't one of those athletic hard bodies I thought I looked pretty good.

As I stood there I started to stroke my dick. The long hours of arousal looking at all those X-rated web sites had made me almost comatose, but now that I'd finally taken the situation in hand, my body thrilled at the sensations that it was experiencing as I pulled the sensitive skin of my cock.

I watched carefully as my reflection tensed before me in its pleasure taking. I leaned my upper body forward and stuck my butt out so I could slam my stroking hand deeper giving my cock more sensation with longer thrusts.

As I stood there jacking off, faster and faster, my mind began to envision Christine. God just the thought of her made me ready! Several more thrusts and I was coming. As I spurted into my Kleenex, I imagined that I was coming in Christine. For the millionth time.

I imagined her beautiful body spread out on a bed, legs open arms stretched out to me. I could feel our skin touching as I lay down between those perfect thighs and shoved my cock up into her moist pussy.

I could feel her luscious tits pressed against my chest as I rutted in and out of her. She would grab my butt cheeks and try to shove me deeper into her, I would come in her and make her pregnant with me baby as she screamed in lust crazed joy. We would marry and have lots of kids.

Then I was standing in my darkened room, with my come nestled in the Kleenex in my hand. And I sighed, look- ing at my body in the mirror, wishing I had the nerve to at least try to ask Christine for a date or some- thing.


The morning came all too soon. Another school day and then off to my after school job. And a strange job it was. I still didn't know why I had taken this parti- cular job from the work/school program. All I knew was that I liked getting off an hour and a half early each day and I got paid to do it. But working at the local mortuary didn't do much to help my reputation at school.

The good side of the job was that I was pretty much left alone, all I had to do was clean the place after hours and then go home. This was a three-day a week job from 8 p.m. till midnight and no one was ever there to criticize me or to tell me what to do. So I goofed off a lot because it didn't really take more than an hour and a half to do the work.


The next day I finally couldn't take it any more -- I had to ask Christine out. I knew that it was hopeless but I was so tired of fantasizing about it; that I felt rejection was better than never knowing. I mean what if she actually said yes! What if because I had the guts to say something to her, we became friends, and who knew, we might even become lovers in time.

I knew that Christine was different than the other girls. Although she was beautiful and very popular she wasn't like so many of them, all stuck up with herself. Every time I'd seen her she was always nice to the people she was talking to. To me she was an angel, a beautiful unearthly vision; a person beyond the normal standards.

I waited until lunchtime to try to talk to her. My hands were sweating all morning long, and I couldn't concentrate on any of my morning classes as I day- dreamed of our encounter. In my imagination I saw her saying yes to me and even giving me a little peck on the cheek to seal our date. I was in a fog of romantic love and lust.

Which was firmly dashed into the gutter by 12:22 p.m. that day.

I hesitantly walked up to Christine at lunchtime. She was surrounded by friends and as I got closer my nerves began to desert me. But taking a deep breath and clenching my hands I walked right up to her and said, "Hi Christine, you probably don't know me, but we're in the same home room. And, well -- I was wondering -- if you might -- ah -- want to go to the movies with me -- or something..."

As I held my breath in hopeful expectation, a varsity football player sauntered over and sat down beside my dream girl. He put an arm around her and said good naturedly, "Hey boy, you trying to move in on my girl?" Christine just stared through me, sort of like I was causing a nuisance.

I mumbled, "Sorry, just kidding -- sorry..." And I got out of there fast, almost running to get away from their view. I was so humiliated, how could I have thought that a girl like Christine could have been interested in someone like me? What an idiot I was to even think it.

I spent the rest of that day in abject misery, alter- nating between wishing I was dead, and wishing that everyone else in the school would die instead. But finally 3:30 came and I was dismissed from class. Even though my job didn't start until 8 p.m. I got to leave school early, supposedly to do my homework since I'd also be working sometime during the evening.

As I walked home I stopped by the chain-link fence and watched as the cheerleader squad came out onto the field. There was Christine in all her beauty. Every- thing receded into the background as I stood there mesmerized, watching her perfect body going through the squads practice routine.

I wanted that body, I wanted that girl almost more than life it's self. God how I lusted after that woman. When they were done with their practice and gone from the field, I finally turned and headed home -- with only one thought in my head -- get home and "get off" while I envisioned Christine taking my spurting cock between her lovely lips.


Two days had passed since my rejection and humiliation at the hands of my dream girl. She wouldn't know it but I had fucked her in the mouth and pussy five times since her rejection of me. But I was brought up short that morning when the rumor spread through school that something had happened to Christine.

She was dead!? I couldn't believe it, how could some- thing happen to a healthy beautiful teenage girl, the object of my love. I was devastated, totally whipped! I'd never see my dream lover again, god I wished that we could have gotten to know each other better.

Apparently Christine had had a massive stroke while performing at the football game the night before. The rumor was that she'd been taking drugs, something like speed to give her extra energy. And she just collapsed right there during the game. I still couldn't believe it.

That evening I almost called in sick, but I needed the money and knew that even if my dream lover was dead, there wasn't much I could do but go on. So I dragged my sorry self to work, arriving just as the mortuary staff was going off duty.

As I punched in, I over heard on of the morticians say, "Man what a waste, she could have been a beauty queen. I really hate it when young kids bite the big one like that. I hope they find the bastard who was feeding her those drugs."

I stopped in mid stride as I put two and two together. They were talking about my Christine! She must have been brought in to this mortuary. My heart stopped for a moment, could I see her one more time, one last time up close all by myself?

I nervously waited while the last of the evening staff left. When I heard the key in the lock indicating that the last person had left the building I rushed to the morgue.

I normally stayed away from this area because it was so gross, and smelled strange. But this night was different, this night my fantasy lover was there, waiting for me.

I burst through the metal doors and looked wildly around the room. There were three workstations in varying states of completion. I knew instantly which one was Christine, she was in the while coffin with white silk showing from the open hinged top. I don't know how I knew this from where I stood, but I was right.

A crept up to the raised coffin and looked in to see my fantasy laying peacefully with her arms at her sides. My god, they had dressed her in her cheer- leader's uniform -- she looked so alive to me -- I knew that if I shook her that she'd sit up rubbing sleep from her eyes.

I couldn't resist the urge to try and awaken her. I reached a trembling hand out and touched her face. It was cold, as cold as the room, which was pretty cold. I shook her anyway, and although she moved with my pushes, she didn't wake up, but then I didn't really think that she would.

I stood there for the longest time, drinking in her beauty. Even with her eyes closed, lying in a coffin, she was the most beautiful girl in the world to me. I felt this huge lose, the world had lost a bit of beauty that it would never be able to get back.

I touched her lips with my fingers, rubbing them back and forth from corner to corner, wishing that they had kissed me when they were alive. What a waste I thought, what a terrible waste.

Then a strange thought popped into my head. I had this crazy urge to kiss her goodbye. As the idea formed in my mind it was turned into action, yes I was going to kiss a dead girl. She might have rejected me in life, but now she would have to accept my love, there was nothing she could do about it now -- was there?

I grabbed the step stool and climbed up and leaned over the silk lined coffin. They had expertly made up her face, the eyeshadow looked just like she used to wear, and her lips were covered with just the right shade of lipstick.

I looked into her lovely face for a long time. I was only inches away from her, closer than I'd ever been before. Lovingly I touched her lips to mine, then pulled away to look at her face again. I could taste the lipstick, I wanted to sink into her to become one with my Christine, I loved her. I pressed my lips tighter to hers and moved my head mashing our lips together like a passionate lover.

She lay there and accepted my kisses. Then wanting to get closer I climbed into the coffin with her, I couldn't help myself. There wasn't enough room for two of us so I lay on top of her. I was hard now, painfully so. My heart was pounding a mile a minute and I could feel that familiar wetness of pre-come in my underwear.

I kissed her lips harder and smeared her lipstick as I lustfully smashed our lips together. I pushed my tongue through her unresisting lips to run it along her per- fect teeth. God I loved her so.

After a bit, knowing that if I was caught something terrible would happen to me, I pushed a hand up under Christine's sweater. My heart stopped as I realized that the mortician hadn't put a bra on her. I guessed they didn't think she'd care. Immediately I shoved my other hand up her short cheerleader skirt and was re- warded with the feel of pubic hair flowing through my fingers.

I honestly had only wanted to kiss my fantasy lover goodbye, but now I had to do more. As I unzipped my pants and shoved them down my thighs I wondered if Christine had ever had sex with a guy in life. Well either way, I wouldn't let her go to her grave without experiencing it at least once.

I was a sloppy mess, pre-come squishing everywhere as I pulled my painful rigid cock out into the cool morgue air-conditioned room. Fumbling between our crotches I position my live pulsing cock at her dead quietly excepting pussy.

It was strange, really strange, as I pushed my slick dick into her waiting body. I could feel her love tunnel against my cock as I thrust home. The first thrust into my lover was slightly painful, but I didn't care, I was living my fantasy, I was fucking Christine, the most beautiful girl in school.

As I pulled back out and thrust into her again it was easier, and as I continued to screw Christine I began to slip in and out of her body easily. Lost in my lust for Christine I reached our with both hands and pulled at her thighs until her wonderfully smooth legs rose slightly at the knees, allowing me even better pene- tration.

I was in heaven, my body was raging, and my heart was thumping so hard that I thought that I could actually hear it. I was sure that if Christine were alive right then, she would be enjoying my frantic lovemaking.

My minds-eye could actually see Christine underneath my humping body, she was screaming at me to 'fuck her harder' and I did, but I knew that the moment had come, I could feel my seed welling up inside me.

One last thrust -- I jabbed cruelly into her, holding my cock buried as deeply as I could -- and let go -- pumping my come into her, feeling my cock expand each time I shot another gush into her body.

Finally I was done and pulled out.

I knelt over beautiful Christine and wiped my come cover cock along her perfect lips, thinking how beau- tiful she looked lying there with my white come mixed with her bright lipstick.

As I struggled out of Christine's coffin, I felt com- pletely sated. She had given me the gift of peace, finally letting me have her intimately. And I had given her my little gift too.

As I stood on the stool beside her coffin looking down on her wonderful face, the urge struck me to kiss her one last time. I could taste my come on her lips, but I didn't mind, in fact I licked them clean. I'll never forget the taste of my come mixed with her lipstick.


Looking back, I was pretty stupid at seventeen. I know that I was infatuated with Christine, and I know that I was pretty miserable, but you'd think that I would have at least noticed the surveillance camera in the ceiling of the morgue.

When I had to look at what I did to Christine on the video in court, I couldn't believe how gross it all looked, it hadn't seemed that bad while I was doing it.

Luckily I was only seventeen, because they can only hold me at the youth farm for another 18 months and frankly I'd rather be fucked by my cell mate George for the next year and a half, than some old crusty inmate at the federal prison.

I can barley wait to get out of detention, I'm a lot more experienced than I was at seventeen, and this time I'll go for a live female.

And I won't take no for an answer this time...

The author retains all copyright options. If this work is copied and used elsewhere the author name and address must accompany the work. This work must be used only in free access areas unless otherwise agreed upon by the author. This notice must remain with the work in its entirety or you are infringement of the author's copyright.Thank you. The Staff