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Snow White X
by Rebelwriter (nomad1313@aol.com)

***

Wendy likes to play at being pretty, helpless, and 
dead. (MF, nc, rp, bi, nec-fetish)

***

Halfway up the stairs to the bedroom, I was already 
hard. Dressed in my best suit, holding a bouquet of 
roses, I was about to have sex with my beautiful dead 
wife. 

Okay, before you get totally freaked out, let me admit: 
Wendy wasn’t really dead. Where the fantasy had 
originated, she couldn’t really say, but she suspected 
it was connected to the fairy-tale of Snow White and 
the poisoned apple. 

She’d had a picture book of the story and the 
accompanying illustration of the pretty girl lying cold 
and white waiting for her Prince Charming had imprinted 
itself on her sexual consciousness as these early 
influences are wont to do. But, in Wendy’s case, Snow 
White didn’t wake up, but remained in her suspended 
allure forever.

The bedroom was alit with at least a dozen flickering 
candles. On the CD player, a classical piece was 
playing softly. Wendy was lying in the middle of the 
bed, dressed in a white sheath dress, hands crossed 
demurely over her breasts. Because this was her 
funeral, she was wearing a pair of dressy sandals. 

I could see that she’d gotten a fresh pedicure and 
manicure for the occasion and lightly made-up her face. 
She looked so peaceful and beautiful lying there, so 
vulnerable and remote all at once, that I could almost 
believe that she really was dead.

Dead... and damn sexy!

"Oh Wendy," I said, "I can’t believe it. You’re really 
dead. You were so young... " I know that my wife needed 
to hear these words to set the tone for the fantasy and 
what was to come. I knelt by the side of the bed and 
pretended to pray. 

"Honey, you look so beautiful. Everyone says so. Even 
Julie and Tammy and you know how bitchy they can be. 
Dammit, you almost look like you’re only sleeping, like 
you’ll wake up at any moment. God, I love you so much. 
I’m going to miss you so badly."

In the golden candlelight, my wife’s features didn’t 
flinch. She really did make the perfect corpse.

"Hey, I brought you some flowers... baby roses... your 
favorite."

I stood up and, leaning over the bed, laid the flowers 
on my wife’s breast, carefully unfolding and refolding 
her hands over the bouquet. Inspired, I pinched off a 
couple of blooms.

"I want to decorate you sweetheart."

I placed a rose in her hair behind each of her ears and 
kissed her lightly on her cool, unresponsive lips. I 
looked down at her perfectly composed features—the high 
cheekbones, the small rounded chin, the almond eyes 
that looked large even when closed—and my hand went 
involuntarily to the hard-on inside my pants. I felt a 
flash of habitual embarrassment at touching myself in 
front of someone else until I realized that I had no 
reason to feel any shame. 

After all, since Wendy was no longer among the living, 
I was all alone here, wasn’t I? I unzipped my pants and 
took out my dick, rubbing it slowly, imagining cumming 
right on my wife’s beautiful face. Would he even 
flinch? I forced myself to stop stroking myself. There 
was so much more to do.

I walked around to the end of the bed and one after the 
other slipped Wendy’s elegant high-heeled sandals from 
her delicate feet. 

"I want to make you more comfortable, dear. Besides, 
Tammy said something about wanting these shoes.  I 
didn’t think you’d mind. You won’t be needing them, 
after all."

As I took off her sandals, I kissed each of her pretty 
feet in turn before laying it carefully back down on 
the bed. Then I placed another of the roses I’d pinched 
from the bouquet between the first and second plump 
perfect toe of each foot. The red of the roses seemed 
to match her toenail polish perfectly. 

Now that I was finished "decorating" her, it was time 
to make love to my wife for the last time.  

"I just have to fuck you Wendy. I can’t let them put 
you in the dark ground forever without cumming inside 
you one last time." 

Throughout all of this, Wendy betrayed not a flicker of 
life. She’d even managed to still her breathing to an 
intermittent and practically imperceptible rise-and-
fall of her chest that could easily be explained as a 
trick of the flickering candlelight. I took a bare 
ankle in each hand and gently parted my wife’s pretty 
legs. I could see her trimmed and naked pussy.

"Oh Wendy, you naughty girl. You’re going to be buried 
without your panties. Who’s idea was that, anyway? And 
at the viewing, no less... lying there on display in 
front of our family and friends, in front of your boss, 
in front of your dad and his buddies. What would they 
say, if they knew?"

If Wendy were blushing, I couldn’t tell. I’d stripped 
off my pants and suit jacket in the meantime. I worked 
off my tie and shucked off my button-down shirt. My 
wife lie there on the bed... which was now her 
"coffin"... with her legs obscenely spread, her pussy 
exposed. 

"Maybe," I said, breathing hard with my own excitement 
as my socks and underwear came off, "you want us all to 
fuck your pretty corpse?"

Was that a slight catch of excitement that I heard in 
Wendy’s barely perceptible breath? 

"Look," I said, and then corrected myself. "Oh I’m 
sorry, sweetie. Of course you can’t see anything 
anymore. So I’ll have to tell you. There’s a tube of 
lubricant and a vibrator on the table. I guess the 
funeral director must have left them out just in case 
anyone wanted to have a little fun with you."

I walked around to the night table and picked up the 
tube of KY jelly and Wendy’s favorite anal dildo. Then 
I joined my wife on the bed, lying beside her, stroking 
the insides of her soft thighs. I worked the hem of her 
white dress up over her thighs. Then I slipped an arm 
under her back and easily lifted her petite body up, 
pulling the dress over her waist, exposing her 
completely. 

"No dignity for the dead," I said, smiling down at her. 
Her composed features almost made it look like she was 
smiling back. "I can do whatever I want to you now. 
Anyone can."

I squeezed some lubricant into my hand, warmed it, and 
gently lubed her tight rosy asshole. She didn’t offer 
the least resistance to the intrusion of my greased 
fingers and none either to the vibrating dildo, which 
slipped easily into her rectum a moment later. 

Was that an involuntary tremor of pleasure that passed 
through Wendy’s beautiful body? I was certain of it. 
But still, I told her, "The dildo in your ass will give 
you the illusion of life while I’m fucking you, my 
darling."

I reached down between her legs and fingered her pussy. 
"Hmmm... What is this?" I inquired rhetorically, 
feeling the considerable moisture. I leisurely ran my 
finger along the lips of her swollen pussy, inserted 
the tip, and rubbed her clitoris. I could feel the 
vibrator in her asshole through the walls of her 
vagina. She was soaking wet now. I took my finger from 
her pussy. Was that a little moan I heard? I shrugged, 
"Oh honey, it must be the embalming fluid leaking out 
of you. Poor baby."

I teased my way up to Wendy’s breasts, playing my 
fingers along her soft compliant flesh. I slid the 
dress off her shoulders and freed her tits, small, 
perky, capped with mocha-colored aureoles. I fondled 
her tits, played with her nipples, watching them 
harden.

"Even dead," I said, "you’re such a shameless slut."

I leaned forward and took one tit into my mouth and 
sucked while sliding my finger back into her pussy. If 
I laid my head against her chest, I’m sure I’d hear my 
wife’s heart racing with excitement. For that matter, 
mine was, too.

"I’m going to fuck you now Wendy. I can’t resist any 
longer. I know you really want it, too."

I turned Wendy onto her tummy. She flopped over like a 
ragdoll. Then I pulled one of the pillows under her 
hips to raise her perfect little tush into the air. 
Lying there in her ruined dress, roses crushed into her 
hair and between her pretty toes, she looked 
irresistibly violated. With my hands planted on either 
side of her shoulders, I slid effortlessly up to my 
balls inside her sopping wet pussy on the very first 
stroke. 

Immediately, I began fucking Wendy in earnest. Her 
body, completely submissive beneath mine, lurched 
forward with my thrusts, pulled back when I pulled 
back.  Her pretty face ground into the bed. Her pussy 
juices trickled into my pubic hair, soaking them, and 
my thrusts made loud squelching noises. I was 
determined to make this last as long as I could; after 
all, it had to last me for all eternity! 

Holding back wasn’t going to be easy. The vibrator in 
Wendy’s ass was doing its just job—and, what’s more, I 
could feel it tickling my prostate through the thin 
walls of my wife’s cunt, urging me to release my load 
into the pretty "corpse" beneath me. But I could sense 
that Wendy wasn’t quite ready to enter "heaven" just 
yet.

Reaching around to take one of her little titties in 
hand, I squeezed the nipple and leaned over her limp 
body, whispering directly into her ear.

"When I’m done having fun with you, honey, I’m going to 
invite Bill in to fuck your body. I know how he’s 
always had a crush on you." It was true. Bill was a 
business colleague of my wife’s whose subtle 
flirtations Wendy always playfully diverted, but 
encouraged all the same. Over the years, he’d made it 
clear that if Wendy were amenable to the idea, he’d 
initiate an affair in a heartbeat. 

"Well now I guess it doesn’t matter if he fucks you. I 
suppose I can let him have his turn with you before 
you’re buried. Would you like that honey? Oh darling, I 
do believe you would. It’s almost as if I can feel you 
coming alive at the very thought."

Even "dead," Wendy couldn’t suppress the little 
convulsions traversing her vaginal walls and gripping 
my cock. I paused a moment to catch my breath. 

"And Paul, too," I said, naming an old school friend of 
Wendy’s, as well as a couple of  other male friends of 
ours that I knew she rather fancied. "I’m sure they’d 
all like to give you one last send-off fuck." I was 
close to cumming, so close even one last thrust could 
send me over the edge. 

I could tell Wendy was close, too. Christ, if I didn’t 
cum soon, I felt like I would to die. I had to say the 
next part quickly. "And Susan," I said, naming Wendy’s 
openly lesbian boss, "she’s been practically creaming 
in her panties all these years for a chance with you. 
I’m sure she’d love to have you alone and defenseless 
like this at long last... "

That did it. Wendy gasped and "came to life," slamming 
her smooth impaled ass against me as I cleaved her 
pussy with my cock. This was no corpse thrashing 
beneath me now, but my sexy triple x-rated Snow White 
come back to raunchy life, after all. And as we came 
together in one single, sweaty, breathless mutual 
orgasm, we proved once again that you definitely didn’t 
have to die to experience paradise.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 41