One Last Time

Robert the mortician slowly zipped open the bag. A young girl's serene face stared up at him, her dull, unseeing eyes reflecting the harsh white light of the surgical lamp.

He felt his heartbeat quicken. Oh, how he loved to work on the young and attractive. Robert loved the feel of their soft skin, still pliant and smooth, running under his fingers. He loved their full heads of glossy hair, sometimes still braided or curled or put up in a ponytail, their fresh faces with not a hint of stress or age, still soft with youth.

Most importantly, he loved to give the most attractive, most youthful "clients" (as he liked to refer to the corpses) a sending away gift for their trip to the afterlife.

The mortician snapped back from his reverie and pulled the zipper down fully. Robert took a cursory glance at the ID tag tied to the girl's toe. One Christina Luccini, age 17. Time of death was 7:43PM, only half an hour ago. A patient from the palliative care ward.

He jotted it down in his tablet, and continued looking over the body. Christina had been a sporty girl, he could tell. Her abdomen still bore the traces of a 6 pack, her thighs and legs were firm and still slightly muscular, and overall her form was slim with barely a trace of body fat. Robert leaned over and took a sniff. She smelt of sweat and of something vaguely pungent. He placed a finger on her stomach and ran it down to her pelvis. Her skin was slick with perspiration, and still slightly warm.

Robert licked his lips, his fingers trembling in anticipation. He pulled open his trousers and gave his dick a few preparatory wanks. It sprouted up, stiff as a steel rod. With great care he clambered onto the table and slowly spread Chris's muscular legs open, only to stop in surprise at what he found. Her shaved pussy was moist and dripping with cum. Someone else had fucked her before him, perhaps a loved one visiting her one last time.

Robert felt his dick go limp. He might be a creepy necrophiliac, but he still had a moral compass of sorts. Chris had already gotten her going away gift in her cooling womb, and from an intimate one. He dejectedly got off the table and pushed her legs back together. The mortician consoled himself by snapping plenty of pictures for his private wanking collection at home.