Thinking about a necro boyfriend who teaches an inexperienced girl how to really fuck a dead man’s corpse.
Him forcing that girl to ride the dead man all by herself at first, but she was really never all that good at riding to begin with… He knew that, of course. And it was a perfectly humiliating scene watching his innocent little belladonna try to figure out how to get it to feel real good. He made sure to put it into her head that this was for her. She needed to feel good and this would make her feel fucking euphoric.
The dead can’t feel anything… that was what he had said to her.
He could recall the girl’s reply in the back of his mind, chuckling to himself at the memory, his eyes focused on the image before him. Seeing her fumble around with the corpse’s body like she was sixteen and trying to figure out how sex worked… It was hot to see her brain become rewired for the dead.
Objectively, they feel nothing. That was what she had said back to him.
He remembered having been amused by the response. He had raised an eyebrow, too, the glint in his eyes practically begging her to elaborate.
But they could be feeling it, right? His cock had twitched at that, and it was a question he couldn’t forget. If you want them to, I guess…
It was an innocent perspective coming from her part… a romantic one. But God, they both had to admit that there was nothing innocent about watching a sweetheart of a girl whine with bitter frustration against a corpse, annoyance coursing through her pent-up body. She was getting tired, her hips lazily grinding like the needy thing she was.
God, he couldn’t help himself. That sweet living dead girl could hear his voice behind her, he was sure of it — the way her hips stilled, and the way he could almost see a rush of perverted excitement travel through her nervous system.
He clucked his tongue in disappointment. Do I really have to help you with everything?
His hands are roughly grabbing her hips now, pulling the girl up along the rigid cock, only to shove her right back down, holding that pressure right against the most sensitive spots. His hands grind her hips into the pelvis of the stiff corpse. What a pretty necro slut she was… A whore too with the way she just couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. He could remember his first time too. How exhilarating it had been, it had felt sooooo gooood.
Again — please, she manages to choke out her sweet request in that familiar begging tone, one that he knew oh-so-well. Hands bringing her hips back up, a series of mumbled praise from the girl as he slams her right back down on that cold, hard cock. Her hips buck against the rotting skin.
He’s chuckling behind her, but she doesn’t get a chance to respond to his teasing. He’s moving those pretty hips all for that pleasure-drunken girl, and how sweet he was for it. It was a good thing, too — she could barely think let alone comprehend how to get herself to feel this good. Her pretty moans and sweet whimpers... fuck. She had no idea it could feel this good.
He’s saying something, but she can’t really hear him. Her whole head is buzzing and there’s a heat simmering in her body, vision going white.
Must’ve been something about…
We should do this more often, I think…