Dearly Departed

by Katie May

  “Have at it,” I tell him. I mean, who am I to tell a guy, a sexy guy, who wants to touch my feet, no?

  Like he’s done it a hundred times, Preston slides the straps from the buckles then slips my shoes off my feet. “There, how's that?” he asks proudly.

  I give my toes a little wiggle. “Much better.”

  He flashes me one of his award-winning smiles, the one that shows off his dimples, and pulls me to my feet. He takes me to the balcony overlooking the ocean before pulling a remote out of his pocket. Music begins playing after he presses a series of buttons.

  Slow music.

  “This might come as a surprise to you, but I’ve always been a great dancer,” he informs me. “Just follow my lead.”

  Preston grabs my right hand in his left and places his other on my hip, while I grip his shoulder with my free one. Then we begin to sway. I struggle at first, but then he encourages, “Relax, Had. Feel the music. Let it flow through you. Just close your eyes and see where it takes you.”

  I take a deep breath then close my eyes, allowing the music to guide me like he said. Before I know it, I’m dancing. Not just dancing, but swaying in time to the music.

  “You’re doing it!” he says proudly. “See. I knew you had it in you!”

  I open my eyes to see him practically beaming down at me. His dark hair falls over one green eye. I lift my hand from his shoulder and brush it away, the small gesture causing him to shudder.

  “Thanks to you,” I whisper, my throat clogged with emotion. He pulls me into his chest, and I tuck my head under his chin. He plants a kiss on top of my head, and I almost fucking melt right then and there.

  “Hadley?” he says tentatively.

  “Yeah?” I pull myself off his chest and look up at him, his hooded gaze lighting me on fire. It takes all the restraint I have not to rub my thighs together to quench the ache between them.

  I can tell he wants to kiss me by the way his eyes trail over my lips when I lick them. But he’s too scared to make the first move.

  Fuck it.

  Reaching up, I thread my fingers into his hair and bring his lips down to mine. He groans the moment our mouths touch, and his hands trail down my back to cup my ass. I pry at his lips with my tongue until he opens for me. His mouth tastes sweet, like the wine he served me, making me thirst for more.

  My free hand slides down his abdomen, and I slip my fingers under the waistband of his dress pants.

  “Hadley,” he rasps against my lips as he pulls free of the kiss. I take that as an invitation to continue and slip my hand deeper inside his pants until his hardness is in my palm. I give the base a squeeze before I slide my fingers up and down his shaft, tracing the head with a fingertip.

  “Fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  I remove my hand so I can take off his pants properly.

  “Take off your shirt, Preston,” I tell him, as I sink to my knees and unbuckle his belt. My wine addled brain thinks of some naughty things I’d like to do with his belt, but I’ll save those for another time.

  His hands shake as he fiddles with the buttons.

  Is he nervous?

  Anxious?

  Am I pushing this shy man too far?

  “Are you okay, Preston?” I ask, not wanting to make him do anything he’s not ready for.

  “Yeah. It’s just—Umm. I’m—Umm…”

  The light bulb turns on in my head. Why didn’t I realize this before?

  “You’re a vir—”

  “Please don’t say it,” he whispers, shoulders slumping. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, sliding his fingers through his hair. “Well, I suppose you want to go back to your dorm now.”

  He moves to step away from me, but I grip his pants, stopping him.

  “No. I don’t. In fact, it’s hurting my feelings that you think I’d be so fucking shallow.”

  His eyes widen, mouth dropping open.

  “Hadley, I would never want to hurt your feelings. I was just trying to save you—”

  “From what, Preston?” I stand, my voice rising. “From getting to know a really nice guy? A guy who looks past my scars, likes who I am, and isn’t shy about letting others know? I mean, fuck.” I gesture towards the tree house. “You made me dinner. You took me to a fucking tree house. You wore a damn suit. I’ve never gone on a date this amazing before. I’ll be damned if I allow you to end it because you’re a bit inexperienced. ‘Cause you know what, Pres? I’ve got enough experience for the both of us.”

  Ignoring his presumption that I wouldn’t want him, I make quick work of his belt and toss it behind me. I glance up at him, wanting to see consent on his face before I move on to his pants. He gives me an almost imperceptible nod, his bright eyes watching, his gaze heated.

  In one move, I unbutton his pants with one hand and unzip them with the other before sliding the fabric down his legs as I drop to my knees before him. I’m happy to see boxer briefs hugging his package. Yes, I have a thing for boxer briefs on a man. Don’t judge me. His cock isn’t as shy as his brain and strains proudly at the cotton fabric.

  Good boy.

  My fingers slip around the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, and I slowly pull them down his legs, freeing his cock from its prison.

  It’s perfect, with just a dusting of black hair above it.

  Not too big, not too small. Enough girth so it will fill my pussy without causing pain. Veins run along the shaft to the slightly darker head, and a pair of cleanly shaved balls hang low behind it.

  I love it when a guy manscapes properly. I know he said he was shy, but he clearly prepared for me tonight. Glad I did too.

  Gripping the base of his cock with one hand, I bring it to my mouth and circle the head with my tongue. Preston shudders in response. I glance up at him and watch his reaction as I take him inside my warm mouth. His eyes close, his lips open slightly, and a deep groan leaves his throat.

  I slide deeper down his shaft, hitting my fingers with my lips, then pull back slowly. I repeat that a few times before removing my hand and gripping his thighs as I swallow him down.

  “Fuck,” he rasps out.

  Damn right.

  Over and over, I take him to the hilt, his head bumping into the back of my throat as I will myself not to gag. I can feel his cock grow longer, thicker, the more I work him.

  His hand cradles the back of my head, but doesn’t control my actions as I bob up and down on his cock, hollowing out my cheeks as I suck him. Then, I cup his balls and fondle them, adding to his pleasure, heightening his sensations.

  “Fuck, Hadley. I’m-I’m gonna—”

  I slide his cock out of my mouth with a pop. “No, you’re not,” I threaten. He looks down at me, bewildered. “There are better places to deposit your little men.” I stand and take a few steps back, then slip my hands under my dress and pull down my thong. I twirl the black, laced fabric around my finger before tossing it in his face.

  He catches it and brings the fabric to his nose, taking a deep inhale, a euphoric look crossing over his face.

  I don’t know why, but that completely turns me on, and I feel my pussy clench and my nipples tighten.

  “Now, follow me.” I’m in my element, sex brings out my confidence. Something I know I’m good at.

  Turning around, I slowly make my way up the stairs to the loft, well aware of the show I’m giving him behind me as I walk up the steps with no panties on.

  Finally, I get to the top, which is surprisingly spacious for a tree house. A queen-sized bed rests against the far wall, complete with pillows and a fluffy comforter. Nightstands with lamps sit on either side, and a skylight above the bed allows the night’s sky to shine down upon us.

  I walk in a bit farther and allow Preston to come up the rest of the stairs. I turn to face him, and my breath catches. His hair is all disheveled, and his green eyes are staring at me with hooded lids. He still wears his shirt, but it’s unbuttoned a
ll the way, giving me an excellent view of his toned body and bobbing cock. A smirk plays on my lips. Seems shy Preston left his pants downstairs in his haste to follow me up here.

  I strut over to him and pull him into a kiss. Softly. Gently. I take my time, kissing and licking his velvet lips until they open and allow my tongue entrance. Our kiss deepens as I slide the shirt off his shoulders, baring him completely. I run my hands along his toned back, caressing every dip of muscles as I trail my fingers up and down his spine. His hands are unsure, one holding my shoulder, while the other rests on my hip.

  My tongue probes further, tasting him, swirling around his.

  Fuck, I need this man.

  “Take my dress off, Preston,” I encourage, pressing my chest against his body. His hands are a bit clumsy, feeling around my back for a zipper. But he finally finds it and tugs the metal down until it opens completely.

  I shimmy out of my dress, letting it pool at my feet, and take off my own damn bra, ‘cause let’s be real, guys struggle with bras. And to a guy like Preston, it would be like trying to solve the hardest math equation on the planet.

  I grab his hands and place them on my breasts.

  “Touch me,” I whisper. He groans as his hands feel around, testing the weight before rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. “Go on, you can’t hurt them.” He gives my tits a squeeze, and I moan into his mouth. He groans back and rolls my nipples between his fingers.

  “That feels so good, Pres.” As he works my tits, I grip his cock and stroke the length. My pussy pulses and my clit throbs as he tweaks my tips into hardened peaks. He doesn’t know how soft or hard to play, so he’s a bit heavy handed. But I don’t mind, I’ve always enjoyed it more rough than others.

  “Fuck,” I rasp when he pulls my nipples out from my body before letting them slip through his fingers. I can feel that my inner thighs are already wet from my arousal. I don’t know why, but my nipples have always been like an on switch for my pussy.

  “Lay down on the bed, Preston,” I order, stepping away from him. He looks me up and down, his roaming eyes stopping at my nipples before landing on my bare slit.

  “Like what you see?” I question. I give my tits a squeeze then tweak my nipples before sliding one hand down my body and dipping my finger between my pussy lips.

  “Fuck,” he groans, gripping his cock in his hand.

  “Stroke yourself, Preston. I want to see you touch yourself.”

  He does, running his hand up and down his length, his actions becoming quicker as he watches me play with myself. I circle my clit faster, bringing myself almost to orgasm, but I stop right before I crest.

  “Lay down, Pres. I need you.” My voice has dropped an octave, becoming throaty and needy.

  He practically runs to the bed and bumps his knees into the frame. He gives me a sheepish look, and I have to stifle a laugh. It’s just so Preston.

  When he finally manages to climb up uninjured, he lays down on his back and looks down the bed at me. I crawl up his body from the end of the bed, running my hands up his legs and along sculpted abs to his chest, then I sit up on my knees and give him a view of my body. I’ve never had a perfect body, but after seeing what cancer did to me when I was alive, I am embracing my new self, my healthy self.

  I run my fingers through my luscious hair, thankful to have any since I was bald only weeks ago. I squeeze my tits, and splay my fingers down my slight belly, which was nothing but skin and bones while the disease had me in its grasp. Cancer taught me many things, but most importantly, it taught me to be grateful, to not take anything for granted.

  “Ready?” I ask, as I grip his cock and slide it along my slit, lubricating it with my own wetness.

  “Yes, Hadley.” His voice is low and filled with desire. “I’ve never been more ready in my whole life—or death.”

  He smiles up at me with a flush on his cheeks that makes me want to just melt.

  I bite my lip and line him up with my entrance, then let go as I sink down, taking inch by glorious inch of him inside me. Preston’s eyes roll back into his head, and he arches his neck, throwing his head back on the pillows.

  It has been so long since I’ve had sex with something other than my vibrators. I no longer even had a sex drive towards the end of my life.

  Feeling a man’s cock harden in my hands, his eyes hooded with lust, just for me. It’s empowering, a feeling I’ve not had in so long.

  I bring Preston’s hands to my chest as I start to move my hips. He groans and bites his lip while he plays with my tits and tugs at my nipples. My pussy clenches on his cock, and my clit pulses.

  I move my hips faster, using my legs to gain speed as I chase my orgasm. It grows deep in my belly, heating my entire body. I lean back on his legs, supporting myself with one hand, and reach down to play with my clit as I change from grinding to bouncing.

  Yes, that’s it.

  From this angle, his cock bumps into my g-spot, causing my body to ignite.

  “Fuck. Had, I’m-I’m gonna—”

  “Not yet. Just one more minute.”

  He groans as I work my clit faster, bouncing harder, taking every inch of him inside me until I can’t hang on another moment.

  “Now!” I shout.

  “Oh, God!” he yells, before an elongated groan pulls from his lips. The moment his cum floods my pussy, I crest as well. My vision going white as pleasure thrums through my veins.

  Yet, I still fuck him. I ride out my orgasm like a surfer on a wave in the ocean until I’m finally spent.

  With perspiration coating our skin, I grab a box of kleenex from the nightstand and clean myself, then clean him, before cuddling beside him. He wraps his arms around me, tugging my back into his front.

  “Thank you,” he whispers into my ear before placing a kiss on my cheek.

  “You don’t have to thank me, Preston. It was—”

  “Perfect,” he finishes for me.

  I look above our heads through the skylight. The moon is high in the sky, and the stars twinkle around it.

  A yawn takes me, and my eyes suddenly feel heavy. I snuggle in closer to the sweet man behind me and let sleep pull me under, happier than I have been in months.

  Chapter 23

  AUSTON

  Sitting behind the desks in Heaven makes my ass hurt. I was not meant for administrative bullshit. That’s why I was chosen to be a Guardian. So why it’s expected of me to do twenty hours a month like fucking community service is beyond me.

  Sure, it’s cool to actually be in Heaven. The pearly gates were on my Afterlife bucket list. But after that, it loses its luster. Because it’s not like I’m in Heaven, enjoying the carefree life, my past indiscretions forgiven.

  Nope.

  I’m pushing paper like a plow pushes snow.

  My eyes lose focus, and I glance at the clock, waiting for the final minutes of this hell to pass. The squat Angel, Miss Nettle, at the front of the class glares at us through her horn-rimmed glasses. The bitch is just jealous. She’ll never have wings or a halo. All she gets is a white robe and maybe her bow and arrow.

  But to earn that you have to be a skilled shot. Even in the Afterlife, souls can be injured—even killed—by an Angel’s arrow. We learned recently in Advanced Guardian’s Practices that, essentially, souls have an essence that can be lost, permanently throwing souls into the void of unending darkness with no hope of returning. Although things are much more sinister if the Darkness gets hold of them...

  Chimes ring through the air, signifying our time is done here. I toss the last of my papers into my slot next to Miss Nettle’s desk and open the door in the back of the room. Below is nothing but a white haze, no land, just bright white fog.

  I dive head first and spread out my wings, soaring through the dense vapor that leads away from Heaven. It was quite unnerving the first time I dropped through the clouds with no idea if I was going up or down. But now I just close my eyes and allow the winds to take me through the portal back to the Academy.
Crazy thing, this portal. You can’t fly there, nor does anyone know its location.

  For all intents and purposes, it doesn’t exist.

  A warmth surrounds me when I enter the portal, the white clouds disappearing into a starlit funnel. You might think you were floating inside if not for that feeling in your gut. The one you get when your movement doesn’t correspond with what you see, giving you a nauseated feeling. Like when you ride a 3-D ride at a theme park.

  The other crazy thing about this portal is you never know where it will drop you. Could be in the middle of a random classroom. Could be smack in the middle of the vast ocean at the edge of Afterworld Academy. If you were quite unlucky, you may even be dropped right in the middle of a weird sexual encounter between Mr. Buttox and that old, inappropriate woman who dorms with Hadley.

  Yeah, that happened.

  She had on a cowboy hat and assless chaps. Mr. Buttox was crawling around on the floor, neighing and pawing at the air with a pair of fake ears on. The old woman tried to corral him with a lasso while calling, “Mama wants to ride her stallion.”

  I had to bleach my eyes that night.

  And every night after for the following week.

  Now she winks at me when no one else is looking, giving me her gummy smile as she twirls her imaginary lasso above her head, or she whispers, “Hey there, stallion,” as she passes by.

  I dry heave every fucking time.

  The warmth from the vortex recedes, signifying I’m about to be dropped. A pop sounds, and before I have a chance to stop it, I’m falling through the night’s sky and into a canopy of trees. Branches cut my skin as I hurtle towards the ground before landing in an Angel heap of falling feathers and leaves.

  Once my head stops spinning, I stand, brush the dirt off my pants, and get my bearings. I’m in the middle of one of the sections of woods surrounding the Academy. Question is… which one?

  The sound of the ocean reaches my ears, and I realize I’m in the North Woods. I glance above me and see Preston’s refurbished tree house behind me. I head towards it, knowing there’s a pathway leading back to the Academy near it, but I freeze when I hear a snap.