The Funeral [MF]

The Funeral – A short story

It has been said that the sex you have after going to a funeral is always the best sex. Maybe because we lose our feeling of immortality, maybe a desire to be wanted, to be held. I don’t know.

I had left an appointment Tuesday afternoon, and was headed back to my hotel to get some work done on another project, when my rental car just stopped. I was fortunate to have coasted off the edge of the road and out of the traffic, but it was not going any further. I have two mid-1950s Chevy street rods back home, which I rebuilt on my own. However, getting a 2016 Dodge Challenger running again was beyond my capabilities – way too much computer stuff in these cars. I called the rental car company, explained the problem and was told they would have another car at my hotel later in the day. Only about a mile from my hotel, I grabbed my briefcase and started walking.

I had only walked a few feet from my car when a nice, older Mercedes coupe went by, then stopped and backed up. Asking if I needed a ride, I told her I was headed to the Hilton about a mile up the street, and would appreciate a ride there.

“Please, get it” she said.

Within a few minutes we were in front of the Hilton, and thanked her for the ride, starting to get out of the car.

“Please wait” she said. Then “would you consider having a drink with me?”

By now I had realized that she was upset, so I agreed. She got out, waving a parking valet over to take the car.

Finding a table in the lounge, which was pretty much deserted in the middle of the afternoon, she ordered a glass of wine and I ordered my usual – a Diet Coke.

Taking off her sunglasses in the darkened lounge, it was obvious that she had been crying, as she dabbed at her eyes and nose. Reaching out her hand, she said “hello, I’m Emma.”

“Hello Emma, I’m Matt” I said as I shook her hand.

There was an awkward silence while we waited for our drinks. After a small sip of her wine, Emma looked at me and said “Matt, how old are you?”

“Twenty eight” I replied.

“I will be 48 tomorrow. And even harder to believe is that I just came from the funeral of my childhood friend Ellen. She was 48 also.”

“I’m sorry to hear that” is all I could think of to say.

She began chatting about all the things they had done growing up, school, weddings and the like. Just last year they had vacationed together in the Caribbean.

“And now she is gone.”

Emma was wearing a wedding ring, and I asked if her husband was not at the funeral with her. Somewhat bitterly, she replied “no, he was too busy to show up – there was a ball game he didn’t want to miss.” I did not ask any more questions about that situation.

As Emma continued to talk, I looked at her more closely. She certainly did not have the face of most 48 year old ladies. Her hair was blonde, hanging straight, down past her shoulders. Freckles were sprinkled across her nose. From what I could tell, she was very small and petite. Not surprisingly, I guess, she was dressed in black – a black jacket and skirt, black blouse, black hose and black shoes.

She had another drink while I nursed my Diet Coke, and she continued to reminisce about her friend.

Looking at her watch, she asked “Matt, could I use your room to freshen up? I don’t want to go home looking like this.”

I gave her the key card and room number, and told her I would wait in the lounge for her to return.

“Don’t be silly” she said. “It’s your room, so come on up”

So up we went, me opening the door for her. Laying her jacket on a chair, Emma went into the bathroom, fixing a cold wash cloth and holding it over her eyes, then touching up her makeup and lipstick. She did look a little refreshed.

“Matt, have you ever lost anyone really close to you” she asked, looking out the window.

I had not. Even all of my grandparents were still living.

“It’s like a piece of you dies with them. And you walk away swearing that you will grab every minute of life that you can.”

Picking up her cell phone, she hesitated for a moment, then dialed a number. “Ron, I just wanted to let you know I will not be home tonight.”

“Yes, I am serious. I just need a little time to collect myself.”

“I will find a hotel room.”

“Do not bother calling me. Good-bye”

Picking up her jacket, Emma started for the door, saying “I’m going to the front desk to get a room.”

“Wait a moment” I said, calling the front desk. “That’s what I thought. Thank you.”

“There are no more rooms available, they are booked up. But you can stay here – I’ll take the sofa.”

Walking to the in-room bar, she took out another small bottle of wine and opened it, walking to the window, looking out as dusk settled in. For the longest time she stood there, until I walked to her and stood behind her, wrapping my arms around. As she let her warm body push back against me, I must admit to getting somewhat aroused.

“Would you take me to bed Matt – you know what I mean?”

“I will do whatever you want Emma” I replied, amazed that this lovely women had just asked me to fuck her.

Pulling away from me she stepped back and began unbuttoning her blouse, tossing it on a chair. Then unzipping her skirt, slipping out of it and tossing it on the chair. Emma was left standing in her heels, thigh high stockings, panties and bra.

At this point it made me wonder. Wonder why so many women that looked like her – petite, blonde, very light skinned and married – why, so many of these women were ready, almost desperate, to go to bed with someone else. Especially with a black man. Never mind the fact that women like I just described drove me crazy…….the most exciting thing to me was one of these laying underneath me on a bed.

So there we stood, this beautiful but sad lady, basically asking me to fuck her. How could I pass that up? I began unbuttoning my shirt, stripping down to my boxers.

Still standing in front of the window, she slipped off her shoes and hose, then her bra and panties. I wondered if she realized that she could probably be easily seen by anyone looking up in front of the hotel.

She was incredible. The light freckles on her face trailed down to the rest of her milky white body. Her breasts were small, maybe a 34-B, with small, pink nipples. Her waist was thin – I was sure I could get my hands all the way around it. And her hips were slender but flared nicely on her petite body. Between her legs was a small, shaved patch of blonde hair.

I picked her up and tossed her on the bed, pulling her to the end of it. Quickly my mouth was on her as she spread her legs for me. Playing her clitoris with my tongue and teeth, Emma quickly became aroused, to the point that she was immediately moaning. Going deep inside her with my tongue, she came quickly, bucking her hips to me while I continued to work her with my tongue and fingers.

Letting her catch her breath, I pulled her up. Looking down at me, she slid my boxers off, with a sharp gasp. That is a reaction I usually get, as I am quite a bit larger than normal. Taking my cock in her left hand, I looked down at her small, white hand, wearing her wedding ring, wrapped partially abound my large black cock. This is a sight than never fails to arouse me even more.

Laying her back, I rubbed my already hard cock up and down her slit while playing with her clitoris.

Very quietly she whispered “please fuck me.”

I slowly worked my way inside her – she was incredibly tight. Then reaching back, she grabbed a pillow and put it under her head. Another thing I had learned about these types of women was that they liked to watch, to see as a dark cock slid into them, one possibly larger than they were used to. And her eyes opened wide as I continued to inch into her pussy.

Looking down at her as she moaned, it was almost all I could do to keep from cumming as she began wiggling about, impaled on my cock. Then there was that wonderful moment when out pelvic bones met, my tight curly hair against her smooth shaven skin, knowing out bodies were joined as tightly as possible. Pulling almost all the way out, I began fucking her with long smooth, gentle strokes. Watching her face I could see an orgasm building, and suddenly she came. Legs quivering in the air, hands grabbing the sheets as her head whipped from side to side. Taking her by the hips I began fucking harder now, all the way through her orgasm, and she immediately started building to another one. She had gotten her feet on the edge of the bed, pushing her hips up, while I just continued to pounded her to another orgasm. Her body shook as though hit with electricity and she pulled the pillow over her face as she screamed. I thought she had passed out for a moment.

Continuing to fuck her, she lay there spent, then gradually began moving her hips again. Glancing at the mirror to the side of the bed I could see her small petite body, maybe 5′ tall, looking like a toy underneath my 6’8” frame, her pure white body contrasting against my very black body. Laying there spread-eagled, her hips rising to meet me, I knew I could not last much longer. I came just in time to meet her next orgasm, Emma screaming with each long stream I released inside her. Finished, she just lay there, with a faraway look in her eyes.

Pulling out, I walked to the bar and drank a bottle of water. Laying on the bed, her legs spread with our mingled fluids leaking out of her, god she was beautiful. Pulling her up, I gave her a drink, then she licked her lips, looking me in the eyes then quickly looking away. Getting up she walked to the chair and picked up her underwear, going into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Sitting on the sofa, I waited for her, until she finally came out.

“That was wrong. I should have never come up to your room” she said, slipping on and buttoning her blouse, her eyes on my already hardening cock.

Walking to her, I picked Emma up and tossed her on the bed, turning her on her stomach and slipping her panties off. Pulling her slender ass up to me, I grabbed my cock and began sliding it up and down her pussy.

“No” she said. “I can’t fuck you again.”

I stood, letting her up.

“I thought you would force me” she said.

“I have never, and would never, do that” I told her.

“What do you want to do” Emma said.

“What I want is for you to stay here, for us to fuck all night” I said.

Taking off her blouse and bra, she climbed back on the bed, her beautiful ass in the air for me.

Taking her by the hips, I plunged all the way in, causing a slight noise from her throat. Continuing to fuck her, she quickly had an orgasm. Leaving one foot on the floor, I put my other foot on the bed, giving me a new angle into her pussy that seemed to drive her crazy. One hand on her ass and the other hand pulling her head back by the hair, I fucked Emma through multiple orgasms. Or maybe it was one long one, as I finally came deep inside her again.

Laying back on the bed I tried to catch my breath. Her pussy was like it was continually grabbing and releasing my cock, and when she came it was like she was pulling me completely inside her.

I must have dozed off slightly, when I felt her hands and lips on my cock. Opening my eyes, she smiled at me as she ran her fingers slowly over it, raising it with her hands and licking the length of the bottom. Within moments she had me at full strength again, this time climbing on top and lowering herself on me. The rest of the night became a blur, with Emma riding me, sometimes reverse and sometimes sideways, with what seemed to be a continuous orgasm. Somehow every time I came, she managed to get me hard almost immediately, while she rode me.

Waking, the sun was barely coming up. Emma had apparently showered and was gone. There was a note on the night stand, with a simple “Thank you” written out.

Leaving the hotel that morning I glanced at my phone, not recognizing the background. Smiling back at me from the phone was Emma, dressed only in her bra and panties, with the words “I hope we meet again.”

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6fe029/the_funeral_mf