Endless Night Necrophilia Erotic Story by Salty Vixen –

Lucinda…

Richard was jolted from his slumber, the images and emotions of his dream still vivid in his mind. In an instant he was pulling on whatever clothes he could find, snatching his car keys and heading out the door. It was very cold outside, and the rain had just subsided. The notion of going back for his jacket struck him, but decided that it wasn’t really important, and did not give it another thought, heading down his driveway to where his vehicle was parked.

He fumbled for his keys in the darkness, palms slick with sweat. He could not take it any longer; it had to be now. He found his keys finally, resting deep in his pocket, and unlocked his car door hurriedly. Climbing in, he closed the door behind him and was turning the key in the ignition and well on his way down the rain-drenched street soon after.

Richard reached over to turn on the heater. The night air was freezing, and on any normal occasion he would have laughed at anyone foolish enough to venture out in this particular weather in the middle of the night. It was extremely foggy, and visibility was practically a joke. He switched on the defrost, impatiently waiting for the windshield to clear so that he could see the road before him.

As he drove, the fragments of his dream replayed themselves in his head. Was he going crazy?

It wasn’t far away now. He pressed the gas pedal gently, distractedly watching the orange needle climb from forty-five to fifty-five miles per hour. He slowed down when he saw the black metal bars of the fence that surrounded his destination, and drove on further, parking his car some distance away so that there would be less suspicion from anyone who may happen to pass by.

Stepping out of his car and grabbing the shovel from his trunk, Richard approached the tall iron gates. Locked. Looking around, he finally decided that this wasn’t going to be an easy task. He slid the shovel between the bars, then made an effort to climb the wet, iron bars of the fence. This didn’t work at first, but eventually he was able to reach the horizontal iron bar which was nearer the top and much easier to keep a solid grip on, and pulled himself up slowly. As he reached the top, he stopped a minute to catch his breath, then dropped to the ground on the other side of the fence, picking up his shovel and walking into the cemetery.

There it was. He looked at the headstone, and it was indeed hers. It was hard to believe that he was actually doing this, but there was that dream, and that voice echoing in his mind, driving him onward as though he was some kind of lunatic. Holding the shovel’s handle with both hands and pressing the other end of it into the dirt with one foot, he began to move the earth that held concealed her from him.

The fatigue didn’t slow him as the pile of dirt grew larger and larger, as did the very hole that he so fiercely dug without relent or a moment to rest. Eventually he felt the impact of the shovel on a hard surface, and the shock of it traveled up his arm with a slight sting…

Richard slowly set down the shovel, pushing the rest of the fresh dirt aside with his hands to reveal the top of a beautifully ornate casket. It was bronze, and engraved with elegant designs throughout its surface. Directly in its center was a silver circle, shiny and clear despite the several feet of dirt that had once rested upon it. Richard caught his reflection in it for a moment, and almost turned away and ran then and there. But, this was too compelling to let it go now.

The dream had haunted him every night for the past two weeks. Her eyes, shining with that soft pale-blue flame that had ignited his very soul the first time he looked into it. Her breath, sweet as the very blossoms that now covered her grave.

“If only things had been different, Lucinda,” Richard whispered aloud, now gazing openly at himself in the very mirrorlike disc that adorned her resting place.

Yes, if only they had been different. If she had been his, she might still be among the living. He would have shared with her everything, and they could have lived together in a paradise of their own making. So then why did she give herself to David, a man who could never have appreciated her beauty the way Richard did? It made no sense.

“But now, nothing can come between us,” Richard whispered, shaking his head as though to clear it of the disturbing memories. He pushed the rest of the dirt away from the coffin, and carefully pulled its lid open.

There she was, lying deep in her peaceful eternal slumber. Her hair that same silver-blond, cascading down about her shoulders. She was lovely this way, so pale in her sleep, the very Queen of Death herself. She almost seemed to whisper his name, commanding him to to come nearer her, but Richard knew that was impossible. Still, he needed no such commands, and found himself next to her in the span of a few brief moments.

He leaned over, brushing her lips with his. This was too good to be true…what she never shared with him before, she was willing to share with him now. He kissed more deeply now, and the coldness of her tongue numbed his very senses.

He did not remember removing his clothes, but he had not been thinking clearly this night as it was. He had probably done so while he had been basking in his thoughts of what was to come, as his desire slowly overcame him. He could barely even believe that she was his now, after all these years endured of love repaid with only numbing emptiness.

His lips found her breasts, and his tongue slowly traveled around her left nipple. They were firm, still, even in death, and it was just as he had imagined. As he gently sucked away, his penis stiffened considerably. He ran his hands over her flawless body, working his way downward.

It was not long before he entered her. His warmth connected with her deathly coldness, and his length pumped in and out of her slowly, and Richard was possessed by the ecstasy that dominated him. She almost seemed to be growing warmer as well, and he kissed her again, burning with passion.

He began to spurt forth, orgasming and pouring his very juices into her. He could almost hear her gasp, as both of them shared the moment they had awaited for years, since they very day they laid eyes upon one another. He caught his breath, now past his climax and somehow stunned by it all.

After one final kiss, he stood and walked back over to his clothes, which were lying beside the headstone. He pulled his pants back on, the chill of the night pervading him; what chilled him most of all was the very iciness of Her, calling to him from deep within. As he buttoned his shirt and put on his jacket, he stared at her one last time, then picked up the shovel and pushed the lid to Her coffin closed.

He shoveled load after load of moist dirt back onto the lid, sealing her away forever bit by bit. He knew he could never forget, though. Never. And as he drove home through the darkness almost an hour later, he knew it was going to be a long, long night.