Page 3 of Shelly
“And hope to die,” she repeats with a small smile.
If I was what society would class as a normal man, I would have easily fallen for Astrid within the first five minutes of meeting her, but I’m not. I’m a different creature altogether. Snatching back the sheet, I reveal the body to her in its entirety, and she gasps. Both hands come up to cup her mouth as it hangs open.
“Holy shit!” she exclaims, stepping a little closer and leaning over the body a little more to get a better look. “It’s so… grey and…” she frowns.
“What?” I step closer to her.
She looks at me, her brows pinched together. “Why does the skin look like glitter?”
“To preserve the body, we need to maintain the correct temperature environment which is for the integrity of the deceased. Temperature must be kept between 36 to 40 Fahrenheit. Roughly the same as a fridge. Decomposition starts from the moment of death, so my job is to slow that down as much as possible.” I point towards the face of the body. “So that‘glitter’you mentioned is just crystallisation from how cold the body is. It’s a very natural process that happens to anyone, dead or alive.”
“Huh.” She nods.
“And with the way that medical science has come along, we can keep the bodies supple and delay the speed of rigor mortis.”
“Rigor what?”
The corner of my mouth curves, remembering that she’s young. Almost twenty years my junior, and at forty-five, I tend to forget that most people wouldn’t know what it is.
“Rigor mortis used to be a thing where the body would seize up naturally after a certain amount of time, restricting mine and other medical experts’ work. Since The Sinclair Foundation funded the drug Ambutrol, all that is a thing of the past.”
“Well, you’re definitely different from most men I’ve been on dates with. None of them have ever shown me a dead body before. So—” Turning her entire body to face me, she sidesteps, placing her body directly between me and the frozen corpse.
“So?”
“Ever fucked anyone in here before?”
Her question doesn’t catch me off guard in the slightest, because I have, many times. But she doesn’t need to know that, all she needs to believe is that I’m exactly what she thinks I am. Just a nice, well-rounded guy.
“No. It’s never really led to something like that.”
“It’s never really come up in a situation like this?”
Her fingers graze the black belt wrapped around my waist, keeping her eyes on me as they travel to the buckle, and she pops it open, snatching it from the loops of my black suit trousers.
“There’s a first time for everything,” she croons, yanking the zip of my pants down and reaching inside for my cock. It’s rock hard, and when she wraps my favourite hand around it, I release a heavy groan. One that I can’t control because I knew–just by looking at it—that her hand would feel just like this.
When I chose her on the site, I’d hoped that she wasn’t like the others and up until she agreed to come here, she was already more than they ever measured up to. My eyelids flutter closed as her warm hand begins pumping the length of my cock slowly.
“Fuck,” I groan breathlessly.
Astrid pushes me against the wall abruptly, and my eyes spring open just as she drops to her knees in front of me, pulling my cock from the warmth of my slacks and without wasting time further, she engulfs it with her mouth. I watch as her plump lips glide up and down my veiny shaft as it disappears into the back of her throat. Her lust-filled moans vibrate against my cock while her hand strokes and twists it.
I thread my hands into her long hair and grip it tightly, almost enough to pull the roots from her scalp. I didn’t think her hair would be this soft. I was always a man who loved blonde, but the older I’ve become, the better my tastes have grown.
Pulling her head back, her lips glide off the end of my cock with a wet pop. “Tell me, Astrid, how long have you been waiting to choke on my cock?”
“Since you walked into the restaurant,” she responds, poking her tongue out invitingly and flicking it against the tip.
“Then keep your whore mouth wide open for me. While you’re here, each of your holes belong to me. Do you understand?”
She simply nods, but that’s not what I want. I want her to say it because Astrid may have ignored my profile on the dating app, but I read all of hers. I know what she likes, what she wants from a man, and how she wants to be treated, so I give her exactly that.
The sound of my palm cracking against her cheek echoes within the room. “Use your words.”
She’s going to cry, you know it.
I ignore the voice in my head. I need to concentrate and listening to it won’t help me in the slightest. I don’t care if she cries. Astrid is the last piece of my puzzle and when I get what I want, everything will be glorious… perfect, even.
