Dead Sexy
Halloween is the day in which the doorway between the living and the dead is the weakest. Many spirits can resume their physical form. Some do it for revenge, others do it for the pure carnal pleasure they’ve been denied for the entire previous year.
It was hell being dead. Three hundred sixty four days of roaming the earth as a clear, floating spectral, counting down hours until Day of the Dead, Halloween. Then, for twenty four blissful hours, she could reclaim her body and enjoy what it was like to be alive….well, kinda.
Mattie floated over her grave and looked down. She sighed. Only twelve more hours until she could be flesh and bone again. Four years of death had done a number on her figure, too. She’d lost a good bit of weight. Unfortunately, she’d lost most her hair as well. In another year, and a really good wig, she’d rival any one of those Hollywood Hotties. Well, they’d be skin and bones, she’d just be bones, but when one was dead and any potential boinking partner dearly deceased as well, one couldn’t be too picky. At least all her extremities were still attached.
She wandered over to Daryl’s grave and perched, as best a transparent being could, on the headrest. The first year she’d been dead, he’d shown her the heavenly side to being dead. His rigor mortis had never gone away, making him a real satisfying lay. They’d had sex right there on the gravestone, then the grave itself. It hadn’t been that good when she was alive.
But then that bitch Shannon had gotten buried two plots down and Daryl had abandoned her for a fresher fuck. No problem. She wasn’t promiscuous in real life, but dead? Hah. She didn’t have to worry about AIDS or pregnancy or any of those other diseases. Worse that could happen was one of them could lose a body part.
She giggled. Now that would be interesting. Very interesting.
But the stakes were up. Last year only half the population of this particular cemetery returned to claim their bodies. She needed to do something to make sure she got a piece of the action, because no way was she going another year without getting some cock.
Max Johnson snuck up behind her. “Boo,” he said.
“Ha, ha.” It was a running joke between them. Max had been a dirty old man who lived behind her grandparent’s house. He used to look in the windows when she’d stay the night. She couldn’t be happier the poor sap had been cremated. No post mortis sex for him—there was no body to recover. He couldn’t even jack off, he had to watch the others and diddle the air where his privates used to be.
“Looking for a date for tomorrow?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
“I heard there some meaty ones over on the south side.” He tilted his head toward the newer section of the graveyard. “Might get someone who won’t fall apart on you.”
“You were watching!” she knew he had been. Last year she’d been with Felipe, a maggot infested wreck. But she’d been desperate.
In truth, the additional wiggling and squirming provided by the “extra guests” proved to be most valuable in the making her come quicker than she ever had before. Still, it was hard to get past some things and the fact Felipe’s left arm had fallen off during the festivities did bother her.
Dead girls can’t be choosers.
Mattie sighed and brushed a pill bug off the headstone as it attempted to run through her essence. In life she would have run screaming from anything insect related. In death, she only ran from the idea of necromancers, voodoo priests and cremation.
She shuddered and chanced a glance towards the poor bastards who stood longingly, there to watch the events but unable to participate because dear Aunt Jean had spread their ashes at sea or some other place. The ones who had no bodies to speak of from dying in horrific ways were with them. One man met a rather untimely death with a wood chipper. Of course, the side of the living assumed he fell in. His wife and the entire dead community knew better.
What a shame. Several of them weren’t bad on the eyes at all. One of two had more potential than she cared to admit. Maybe they could borrow Felipe’s arm and work some mating magik on her with that.
She caught a glimpse of Max blatantly peeking under the skirts of several of the women gathering for the rituals. Each time one went to smack him he disappeared only to reappear on his hands and knees next to another female.
“And I thought I was pathetic,” she droned, crossing one leg over another.
“Pathetic? Hmm, not the word I’d use by any means.”
She stiffened as a warm, deep voice slid over her, making her shiver with anticipation—that or those damn pill bugs were back and dancing on her grave. Mattie wasn’t sure and she didn’t care. She had one thing on her mind tonight and was willing to accept just about anything as a crypt partner. If it could rise from the grave and to the occasion, she would consider it.
Steeling her resolve, she turned slowly, fully expecting to find some decrepit sleazebag. What she found was anything but. As far as dead guys went, the man before her was one hell of a catch. He not only had all his limbs but his eyes and jaw too.
Amazing how many potential bed mates were missing vital parts. She arched a brow and let her gaze slid lower, over his groin area. The designer pants he wore fit him like a glove—definitely tailor made.
Mmm, all is well.
“So, is that a bunch of maggots in your pants or are you happy to see me?”
He lifted an eyebrow. Was that an almost-twinkle in his eye? Hard to tell when the lights in them were out. “Haven’t seen you around these plots before, you new here?”
Mattie laughed. “What’s your name?”
“Sam. You?” He leaned against the headstone in an oh-so-dramatic cowboy stance. Didn’t work with the designer duds he was draped in, but at this point, anything turned her on.
“Mattie. I think I’ve waited my whole death to meet you.”
“I’ve been dying to meet you as well.” He winked.
Now this was a man after her own heart. And yes, she still had one, damaged as it was from the massive coronary that killed her. At least he couldn’t break it.
“Your crypt or mine?” she purred, as seductively as a ghost can, and uncrossed her legs. A few of those damn pill bugs spilled out the bottom of her skirt, but she recrossed her legs and hoped her essence hid them.
“I’m really thinking of bending you over the gravestone here and just having my way.”
A thrill ran up her spine. Or else those damn bugs were crawling over her again. Either way, she was counting down the minutes until she could test out the stability of Sam’s Rigor Mortis.
“Meet me back here at midnight?” she asked. While she hated to let him out of her sight, she didn’t want to ruin Sam’s appeal by making small talk for hours and learning he was someone she’d despise in real life. This wasn’t about happily ever after—this was about twenty four hours of eye-popping sex.
Her luck, an actual eye would pop. Oh, well, extra holes were fun too.
Sam smiled slyly and put his hand out to her. “Yeah, we could wait until midnight or,” he leaned in closer, causing her to shiver once more, “I could show you some mystical moves that will leave your turning in your grave.”
“Well, since you put it that way.” Mattie hopped off the headstone and into Sam’s extended arms. When one gave way, falling to the ground, she sighed.
