Respect For The Dead

Respect For The Dead

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica


Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica


A short little romp at a wake


A short little romp at a wake


Submitted: August 12, 2017

A A A | A A A


Submitted: August 12, 2017



Story: Lexi
Cover Art: Ethan

Respect For The Dead

“That’s guy’s got booty on the brain, no doubt about it.”

The speaker was my cousin Jake.  We were at the wake of our great Uncle Guthrie; and the guy to whom he was referring was a friend of the family named Ryan.

Uncle Guthrie had passed a few days before at a ripe old age.  My father informed me that we would be attending the wake and funeral and promptly called my brothers to come home and do the same.  My principle concern when the day arrived was what dress to wear.  All of my basic blacks seemed a little too short and slutty for the occasion or ... just plain wrong.  So I finally opted for a black floral print, which had a deep V, one inch straps up, and was loose down low, hanging to just above the knee.  It was a sexy dress and not the most somber, but it was at least in the ballpark for acceptable funeral attire.

Uncle Guthrie had been a lecherous old fart, who’d only grown more and more bawdy with age.  In his early years, he managed to have no less than four wives, all of whom he cheated on.  Finally in his later years, he settled down permanently with a fifth wife, one of his affairs, who was apparently more easy going with regard to the whole “sex outside of marriage” question.  Heaven only knows how many children Guthrie fathered.  There were eight legitimate ones from his various marriages, which the family knew about, more cousins.  And, there were others, who tried to claim Guthrie’s paternity. - He was loaded, having started a sporting goods store chain. - Then, even after his last wife passed and he went senile in the nursing home, Guthrie was known for goosing the nurses and trying to sleep in the beds of female residents “on accident.”

In his early years, Uncle Guthrie was the scandalous relative that people didn’t mention in polite conversations.  In his latter years, Guthrie was the scandalous relative that all the kids in my generation laughed about hilariously whenever we got together.

We adored him.  He gave great gifts and always made us laugh.  His old house was a labyrinth of  old hallways, back stairs and closets in odd places, a true hide and seek mecca.  And when we hit the teen years, he regaled us with lurid stories that couldn’t possibly be true ... could they?  Our moms would have literally died of embarrassment had they known the exploits he boasted of, the advice he gave to the boys and the naughty compliments he showered on the girls.  

I’ll never forget the time he gave me walking lessons:  “Lexi, I can’t remember, are you one of mine or my brother’s?”  “I’m your sister’s granddaughter, your niece,” I told him for the thousandth time.  “You’re one of Lily’s?” “Yes.”  “Damn, you’re prettier than she was.  Well, turn your ass toward me and walk with a good sway in your hips Lexi.  You gotta have a good sexy walk for the men.  Course they’ll be drawn to you in particular like moths to a flame.  But a good walk is important, and when you got a hot ass like your’s, you might as well use it.”

I humored him and walked and swayed.  Then I listened as he gave helpful advice and tips for highlighting certain “features.”  He did that sort of thing with all his nieces and granddaughters, whenever we came for a visit.  It was harmless fun and none of us ever “turned him in” to our parents.  

Why?  I suppose it’s because he never tried to actually touch any of us.  You might not believe the man I just described had many scruples, and maybe he didn’t.  But laying a finger on his own flesh and blood was a line he wouldn’t have dreamt of crossing.  And, we all knew that we were perfectly safe - physically, if not morally - with our scandalous old debauched uncle.

And now, I was at his wake.  I could hardly believe it as I stared at his empty shell, coins covering his eyes.

The house was bustling with family members, eating, talking, reminiscing.  Kids, grand kids, great grand kids, nieces, nephews, former wives who still loved him, even though they couldn’t live with him, former wives who hated his guts, and so on and so forth.  Also, Ryan.  Ryan wasn’t family.  He was a few years older than me, a next door neighbor to Guthrie, who had taken care of the yard for years.  Uncle Guthrie had no doubt taken him in and regaled him with stories and “advice” before he’d had to move to the nursing home.

I glanced over at Ryan.  He met my look and nodded.  It was true he’d been eyeing me pretty steadily for about forty-five minutes, appreciating my body displayed in the most conservative dress I had in the closet back then.  “Geez,” I mumbled to Jake, who had just told me Ryan had booty on the brain, “Have some respect for the dead!”

Jake laughed out loud and tipped his glass back.  “Respect for the dead?  This is Uncle Guthrie  you’re talking about Lexi, the most lecherous man on earth.  Getting laid at his wake would be a great tribute, pay the highest respect to the old fart.”

I rolled my eyes and sniggered, “Someone else will have to do it, then.  And keep your voice down for heaven’s sake.”

Jake and I chatted for a bit and then I stepped away to grab another glass of wine from the kitchen.  Afterwards, I was back in the great room, standing in a corner.  I really hate to be at events like this.  Not only are there dead bodies, but ... I really never know what to say.

A few minutes later, Ryan, the man with booty on his brain, plucked up his courage and walked over.  “Alexis Marie,” he said.  “The last time I saw you, you were twelve years old in pig tails.  Look at you now.”

Why do people say that?  As if you don’t know what you look like.  As if you didn’t get up every  morning and see yourself in the mirror.  

I didn’t look at me.  Instead, I drained my glass and said, “You were only what, seventeen or eighteen yourself?”

“Eighteen, I think I’ve got six years on you.”

“You sure that was the last time you saw me?” I asked.  I knew for a fact that I’d been to Uncle Guthrie’s at least twice a year since then.  Family reunions were usually at his place, because it was so damn big.

He nodded, “Yep.”

I shrugged and asked, “So, what have you been doing?”

“Managing your Uncle’s sporting goods store here in town.”

I raised both eyebrows.  I didn’t know that.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Living with my dad since mom died, going to college here in the city.”

“Cool,” he said, his eyes wandering casually down to my cleavage.  Then remembering himself, he quickly looked up.

Yep, booty on the brain, I thought.

“What are you studying?” he asked, because that’s what you’re supposed to ask.


Both his eyebrows shot up.

I shrugged and smiled, “What, I can’t be smart because I’ve got nice tits?”

He laughed and said, “It’s a hell of a lot more than your tits that are nice, Alexis.  It’s the whole package: thighs, ass, legs waist, hair, face, eyes.  And I’m sure your ... secret features are just as heavenly.”

Fortunately for me, he’d dropped his voice and said all that quietly, or I would have been mortified to death.  I shook my head at him and said, “Damn Ryan, we’re at a wake, not a bar.”

“Oh Guthrie wouldn’t mind,” he shrugged.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” I agreed.  “You sound just like him.  But, my dad and brothers might get more than a little bent.  And poor Aunt Penny would have apoplexy if she heard anyone talking like that.”

That made him look around concerned for a moment and the conversation lulled for several more before he asked, “So ... got any beaus.”

“Did ... did you just use the plural?” I snickered.

“I guess I did,” he laughed.

“I have one.  His name’s Tom and he’s a cop.”

“The law,” he said in surprise, “How did you meet?”

“He arrested me for breaking and entering.”

That earned me a look of shock, which made me laugh.  “Were you really breaking and entering?”

“Technically no.  I was working for a realtor at the time.  I had access to the house, but ... I wasn’t exactly doing business ... things, when I accidentally tripped the silent alarm and brought the cops.”

“What were you doing?”

“Skinny dipping in the hot tub with a friend.”

“No fucking way!”

“Way,” I affirmed.

He stared at me amazed, “So ... you were ... naked when Tom arrested you?”


He laughed and laughed, “Oh ... your old Uncle Guthrie would have loved that story.  It’s the kind of craziness he was always getting mixed up in.”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

We both stared off in the distance for several moments.

“Did they press charges?”

“No, Tom held me till he could verify I worked with the realtor and had legal access to the home.  Then ... with some persuasion ...  he let me go with a warning and never actually told the property owners the exact circumstances that he found me in.”


“Persuasion,” I smiled.

“How long ago was this?”

“Bout ten months.”

“And you’ve been dating Tom every since?”


“Is it serious?”

I frowned for a few moments before answering, “I’m not.  He wants to be.  For me ... it’s really more a convenience.”

“Damn ... poor pig,” he smirked.  “Are you exclusive?”

I raised an eyebrow.  

He gave me a Cheshire cat grin with big brown eyes that looked deceitfully sweet with his mop of curly dark brown hair.  “Do you mean ... do I date other guys or ... do I fuck other guys?” I asked.

“Either,” he laughed.

“I’m not exclusive with Tom, no,” I grinned.  He had a nice laugh.

“Wait ... in ... which way?” he asked, a little confused.

“Either,” I smirked.


Twenty minutes later, the door knob to the bathroom rattled for the umpteenth time.  It was getting hard to concentrate.

“Give it a rest.  I’ll be out in a minute,” I called.

I was propped up on the edge of the counter, dress hitched up to my waist and my legs spread wide as Ryan’s meaty dick plunged in and out of my snatch.  

We kissed a few times, here and there, hot breath mingling, but mostly he was interested in looking down and watching my swollen sultry labia grip his shaft as he moved in and out of me.

“It’s so tight,” he whispered.

“You’re really thick,” I breathed.  

He was giving me hot shivers, and I figured I was a little less than two minutes from climax if the knob stopped rattling and Ryant held on and kept boffing me just the way he was.

“I wanna ... to see your tits,” he said, slowing slightly.

“Zipper’s in the back,” I smiled and leaned forward to bite his lower lip.

We frenched as his fingers fumbled with the zip.  It came down and I pulled the straps off my shoulders.  Braless, my tits sprang free as the top of my dress met the bottom at my waist.

I eased back so he could gaze at them.  He gave a little choked gasp of delight and lowered his head to a hard nipple, cock still pumping steadily in and out.

I arched back and lifted a breast to his mouth with one hand.  He latched on just as his cock took a deep plunge.  I shook ... gave a little cry and ... climaxed.

Convulsions, shivers, waves of raw pleasure, breath escaping through tightly clenched teeth, trying desperately to keep the noise to a minimum as a really big O swept through me.

“Damn girl!” Ryan gasped.  “I’m ... I’m ... I’m losing it!”

He started to pull out.  I clamped my legs tight on the back of his, more instinct than conscious thought.  He grunted and his cock began to buck, the rapid pulses spurting his warm cream inside of me, my own spasms milking him and speeding his semen on its happy journey to my womb.

We both held still then, breath mingling again as our passion subsided.  His cock began to soften.  I bit my bottom lip and opened my eyes.  Ryan eased back from me, his dick slipping out and trailing a slick line of our mingled sex.

Then very quickly, not really saying anything, we got ourselves back together, he hung back, and I quickly opened the door to see if the coast was clear.  Thankfully the knob rattlers had given up and gone to different bathrooms.

Five minutes later I was standing next to Jake again, sipping another drink in companionable silence.  “Uncle Guthrie would be proud,” he smirked after a bit.

I gave a little start.  “You didn’t ... you didn’t hear did you?”

“In this din?  No way,” he laughed.  “I just watched and guessed.  Why else would the two of you go in a bathroom together?  Though I thought you said someone else would have to pay their respects in ... that way.”  

I shrugged.  There was no point in denying it, especially not to cousin Jake.  “I guess I changed my mind.  And yes ... we were ... paying our respects.”


© Copyright 2017 EthanandLexi. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:








Other Content by EthanandLexi

More Great Reading

Popular Tags