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“and now, the mysterious killer that kills his victims with a heart attack as he gives them overwhelming sexual stimulation as according to investigators…”, the news in the tv trailed off as i watched absentmindedly, turning into nothing but background noise, my focus going back into finding the next man.
being a health insurance clinical reviewer at one of the largest health insurance companies in the country gave me access to an almost infinite list with information on dying men.
it had all started with watching regular movies and tv shows, i can’t really pinpoint when something changed but for some reason the killing scenes started to arouse me.
at first it was just a hot sensation that took over my entire body each time a character, in whatever it was that i was watching, died in scene, then whenever another character rushed to embrace the dying one, in a pathetic attempt to somehow save them from the inevitable end, i felt goosebumps that turned all of the hair from the back of my neck to my lower back up.
i imagined how it would be like to touch the cooling skin of a dying man against my warm one as his live vanished from his body, and watch the last twinkle of life in his eyes as paleness took over his face, and his whole body went limp and i could feel that entire man’s body weighting down onto me, and that’s when a new sensation came to me, my hole started twitching with the imagination of how the now limp body had probably been used by the now dead man to bring pleasure to himself and others.
after thorough research on articles, news and documentaries, i could definitely call myself a necrophile, jeffrey dahmer’s netflix show was like the hottest porn for me, but i’m no murderer, nor a cannibal, i just love feeling my partner’s body going cold, completely lifeless, as the only life full and warm part of him is lodged and dumping the last remainings of life in his body into mine.
i’ve had experiences with choking tops to unconsciousness but it wasn’t enough, they were still too warm for my liking, i still could see life behind their eyes, and way more than just a twinkle, and most importantly, it didn’t mean that i was going to be the last one to take their cocks.
that, to me, was definitely the hottest aspect of being a necrophile, knowing very well that no one else would ever get the pleasure from the same cock that i had, knowing that the dead man whose cock i was riding would never get another bottom riding him again, knowing that i got the very last drop of cum his balls will ever produce.
“john bates is believed to have been the first victim…”, the tv sound interrupted my daydream making me reminisce, oh john bates, he had really been my first one, 61yo, fourteen years of those living with pancreatitis, five months ago i found his profile in the list of our terminal clients, i looked up his condition and realized he would be the perfect sexual partner for me.
the poor man was on the edge of death, there was nothing anyone could do to save him, no doctor, no surgeon or himself. no one deserves to live their last moments knowing the imminent end is coming near each minute that passes, that’s just cruel.
so honestly i did him a huge favor, the heart failure was the best way for him to go, not to mention the orgasm i gave him as i rode his cock, hardened by the alprostadil injection i gave him.
it felt dreamily unreal as i propped myself up his bed, he was sleeping heavily, his cock being the only part of his body that was awake, standing at complete attention. he was cool to the touch, not deadly cold yet of course, he was still alive but just barely, and the air conditioner helped keeping his skin cool.
his cock was the only external part emanating heat, the injection made his blood pump to it so hard it looked like a perfectly healthy man’s cock, i felt its bulbous head pop through my anal entrance and his veins filled with flowing blood.
he woke up lightly with the rocking motion of the bed as i went up and down on him, he looked perfect, the tubes on his nostrils were like sexy accessories on him, his expressions a mixture of confusion and pleasure.
i pulled him slightly up covered his lips with mine before he could say something, my wet tongue felt the scratchiness of his dried lips and tongue and felt his arm limply go to my waist, he was weak but i could faintly feel his bony fingers and the oximeter lightly press on my ass cheek.
“shhh, it’s okay, you deserve a one last orgasm before leaving”, i whispered into his ear as i broke our kiss. he moaned each time i pressed my ass into his lap and impaled myself with his cock.
the sensation was overwhelmingly arousing to feel his cock emanating continuous heat in my rectum meanwhile his cold thighs were a shocking contrast to my hot ass in each contact they had.
i held onto his cold shoulders as i ramped up speed and bounced on him, marveling at his face as his dried and pale mouth gaped and let out hoarse moans, the sound mixed with the beeping from the heartbeat machine, slowing down with each time my ass cheeks clapped against his crotch, his balls against the gap in the middle.
“ugh, are you an angel?”, he said between moans, practically unintelligible, his moans went even more hoarsed and lower, it was time for what i was waiting for, his eyes started to look empty and distant, the slow beeping made it clear his last heartbeat was near, meanwhile i could feel them in my rectum as i glued my ass to him, his cock completely planted inside as he shot his last cumshot ever deep into my guts. his cock slowly pulsing along to his heartbeat until it stopped and the machine went off with a continuous beep sound.
“investigators don’t have yet a lead on who the suspect might be, but, trying to not alarm the public, say they are sure they’ll catch him, having named him ‘the lust killer’, police officials…”, lust killer uh, not a bad nickname, but to be honest i think i prefer ‘serial rider’, i’ll never forget how my first dead saw me as one before relieving him.