Walking into Gutterman's Funeral Home was one of the hardest days of my life. It didn't matter how many times I had rehearsed this in my head or how much role-playing I had done with my therapist. The pain in my heart was overwhelming. It was the grief that took over my body and I just felt sick from head to toe.
There must have been a least three funerals going on that day. People were milling around the grand hall waiting to be allowed into their service. There was a stale smell that lingered in the air. The aroma of all of the flower arrangements tried to cover it, but that wretched scent of death was still there. Like a hospital, that stench follows you everywhere you go.
Mr. Davidson, the funeral director, walked toward me from across the room. I looked at him, noticing in the back of my mind that he was actually a pleasant looking man. Not sexy, like Nate from Six Feet Under, but quite attractive. He was rather tall, and had a Robert Redford-esque quality to him. Strong chiseled face, high cheekbones and grayish blue eyes. It wasn't the eyes, but the eyelashes that drew me in; those long brown eyelashes that I could see from miles away. His eyes were warm and sensitive.
He wore the same suit as the day I met him: a dark navy jacket and matching slacks, a light blue shirt underneath and a soft, silvery-blue tie. He didn't wear a wedding ring... and for that matter he didn't wear any jewelry at all. Not even a watch. I guess there are no time constraints when it comes to death.
His voice had struck me the first time I met him - deep, raspy and soothing. I loved to hear him speak.
Davidson made his way toward a man whose eyes were welled up with tears. He shook the man's hand with one and used the other to embrace the man's shoulder in sympathy. There was a sincere, genuine look deep in his eyes as I saw him mouth the words, "I am so sorry."
I was feeling tired and unattractive in a long black skirt and a black silk blouse. I had completely forgotten to put on a bra (since I was blessed with small, perky breasts, I could get away with that sort of thing). I wore a strand of pearls around my neck and was twisting them nervously as I stood in a daze, waiting. A moment later, Davidson was in front of me.
"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked.
"Misplaced, if you want the truth. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," I said.
He moved closer. Even with my heels on, he still stood a half a foot taller than me. I could smell the masculine, warm tones of his aftershave. It was a familiar smell, but at that moment I couldn't place it. He gently put his hand on my elbow and escorted me to the room where I would wait to greet the mourners. He whispered in my ear, "I will stay with you as long as you need me too." The touch of his nose tickled my ear and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. It sent a chill down my spine. I had to control the urge to grab him and nuzzle him into my neck. It felt good to have a man that close to me. Especially him.
He led me to a room that housed a couch and a few chairs, with a side table and a Chinese porcelain lamp. The coffin sat at one side of the room.
"Where would you feel the most comfortable?" he asked.
I sat down in the middle of the couch. "Here is fine," I said. Davidson sat down to my left. I crossed my right leg over my left and grazed my leg next to his. I wasn't wearing any panty hose and was feeling a little sweaty from the heat. Despite the deep sadness I felt, the soft touch against his leg ignited my insides.
I whispered, "How much time do I have?"
"Plenty. Just relax. Everything is taken care of."
I put my hand on his and thanked him. He had been very kind these last few days and I wanted him to know how much I appreciated his support.
He nodded and gave me a soft smile. "That's why I'm here."
We sat for a moment in silence. I took a deep breath and slowly let my eyes wander over to the mahogany coffin that was just a few feet away. I had a lump in my throat and I could feel the tears forming. One drop fell. Then another. I could feel his eyes on me now.
"It's okay to let it out. I'm here."
That was all I needed to hear to permit myself to finally cry. Since Eddie's death, I hadn't really had time to feel anything. I was the one who had to make all the arrangements, call everyone and tell the family and friends. It was all so dreadful. And now, the funeral was here, and all those feelings were catching up to me. I started to cry. At first the cries came in soft waves as I still tried to fight back the pain, but once my body was in tune with the grief, it all came pouring out. I felt so heavy. All I wanted at that moment was to nothing.
Mr. Davidson grabbed a tissue from the box that sat on the side table and dabbed my cheeks where my tears were falling. I was sure that my mascara was running down my face, but I didn't care. He placed the tissue in his jacket pocket and grabbed my hand. The warmth of his hand sent tingles all over my body. It was such an inconsistent sensation compared to emotion that I was feeling. I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. My brown tresses covered my face as I leaned on him. I could feel my body heat rise.
He rubbed my hand with his fingers, which were long, thick and soft against my skin. I pressed my leg into his with more tension. He moaned softly. I let my head drop from his shoulder to his lap. He stroked my brown curls tenderly. I could feel his dick was getting hard against my cheek. I placed my hand on his thigh and let it rest there, silently praying he wouldn't resist. I gradually repositioned my face. He was now pronounced and I could see the huge outline, building under his pants. I couldn't contain myself.
I opened my mouth and slid my big red rosy lips over the outline of his penis. He let out a faint sigh of relief. There was no turning back now. I unbuttoned his pants and then gently unzipped them, revealing black Calvin Klein briefs. My hand grazed under his jacket and shirt, and over his stomach, which was lightly covered with soft, silky black hair. My fingers dug into the elastic waist of his briefs and made their way to the soft, bald, head of his cock.
His head was exceptionally big. I could smell the scent of Ivory soap. I was not in the most conducive position to take him in my mouth, so I gracefully slid myself to the floor and got on my knees. He smiled gratefully. I knew that in minutes he would be more than smiling, as pleasing men was one of my favorite extracurricular activities. He would be glowing. I pulled his briefs down to find the most beautiful surprise I had ever seen. Attached to his big scrupulous head, was a thick, throbbing cock just waiting to be touched by no one other than me. It stood up as erect as the empire state building just waiting for me to take a ride to the top.
I looked up into his eyes and gently placed my hand on his shaft and then I slowly took just the tip of him in my mouth. There is nothing like the fresh taste of cock. Mmmm. At first I just wanted to work up the head to a slight frenzy and then work my way down.
The extraordinarily big head up my whole mouth. I made large, broad circular motions, which got him harder and harder with every rotation, and I continued to massage the body of his hard cock with my hand. Sucking the air from the hole, I made him shudder. I sat up, relaxed my throat muscles and took all of him in my mouth and down my throat. I worked my mouth up and down his throbbing shaft. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.
"I want you," he begged. I took one last lick and stood up. I gathered my skirt and hiked it up around my thighs. He put one hand on my waist and used the other to slide my black lace undies down to the floor. He took his time caressing every inch of my well-toned legs before he slid the undies around my ankles. Then he guided me on top of himself. For me, the first moment of entry is the most anticipated because I know how yummy it is going to feel within moments.
My pussy lips opened like the wings of a butterfly as his cock spread me wide open. My juices were flowing and they covered his member as he delved deeper and deeper, penetrating my being. I lifted my blouse and stuck my big, brown nipple in his mouth. I grabbed the back of his head as hard as I could, making sure I had all of his manhood inside of me. The harder he fucked me, the faster my tears escaped my eyes. I wanted to be fucked into numbness. I rode him up and down. Slow and hard. After a little while, I knew this wasn't going to be enough. I needed the full throttle of his dick inside me. No leftovers please. I slid his dick out of me and turned around. Through the long gulps of oxygen and gasps of air I was trying to take, I told him to fuck me harder. Ahhhhh. This is what I needed. He laid his hands on my shoulder blades and let me take him in.
"Baby, play with my ass," I moaned. His fingers fell to my side and he started gradually prodding my hole. He started with one finger, which was eventually joined by another, and he moved them together in rhythm. I was on the verge of being overly stimulated, but not enough that I couldn't handle it. "Give me your fingers." He gently pulled his fingers out of my ass and I took his four fingers and sucked them with all the saliva I could muster. "Now try it." He placed his fingers back in my ass.
"Mmmmm. Much better. For both of us. Ohhh. Yeah, that's my spot. Don't stop. Please. Fuck me with your fingers." My asshole was loosening up the longer he played with it. I was about to come, and I knew by his encouraging methods it wouldn't be my last. "Yeah, yeah, that's it, right there. Oh yes that is it. YEAH!"
A second later, I could feel him lifting me off of him, "What are..." I tried to say, but before I could utter another sound he bent me over and spread my ass cheeks wide open. This was the remedy for my pain. Oh God. His hands grabbed my waist tightly and pumped into my ass. "Yes, yes, yes. That feels so fucking good." My face was soaking wet. I cried through most of it. I heard him breathing louder. "Tell me how good it is to fuck my ass. Tell me. Please."
"It feels so good baby," he said with that voice.
Just hearing him use baby made me cry more. No one had ever used that word with me before. I needed more. "Tell me how tight I am and how good your dick feels."
"Oh it's so tight. I love it like this."
He pumped into my ass until he said, "I am going to cum any second."
"Me too," I moaned loudly. I could feel my muscles holding on to this cock for dear life. I didn't want it to end. And then I felt him jerk his dick and knew he was going to explode inside of me, and at that same minute, so did I. "Ooooooooh. Yeah. I'm coming. Sooooo good." His breathing grew deep and intense. He grunted "Ahhhhh" as I let out a moan, first filled with laughter, then with tears. I collapsed on the floor. He fell back into the couch.
I don't remember the rest of the day. It is still a blur, although I vaguely remember getting myself dressed and wiping away the black-mascara rimmed tears. The mourners arrived and paid their respects to Eddie. We had been together a long time, Eddie and I. Like Cher, I felt like I had lost my Sonny. Eddie was my first true love. We had been divorced almost seven years, and while he had other women who had come and gone in that time, I was really the only one left. I guess in a way, it kind of made sense to me later on, how I was able to have sex with his coffin in the room. Maybe this was the only way I was able to close the chapter of his infidelity after all that time.
Originally published October 2005 - "Naughty tricks and Sensual Treats"