Picks up at the end of A Table by the Lake. From Ethan's perspective.
“The things I’m going to do to you now…” I whispered to James as he took his last breath.
I waited a few moments, making sure he was dead. The cooked flesh between his thighs was growing cold as I peeled away another piece to chew while I waited, listening for another breath that I instinctively knew would never come.
Warm or cold, his mancunt tasted amazing. I fingered him, gradually feeding four fingers into his cavernous hole and plunging my thumb into the much smaller hole left by his cock, which I had devoured only a few minutes ago. I rubbed my thumb against the rough flesh. Cutting his cock off had been the highlight of my life. James had enjoyed it too in his own sweet way.
I could feel my cock getting hard again. I disentangled myself from my husband’s heavy limbs and stood beside the table where I had spent the last four hours slowly cooking and butchering him alive. His head lolled toward me. He looked at peace.
I straightened his arms and legs and wrapped his limp hand around my cock, moving it up and down the shaft. Looking at his face, I knew what I wanted to do, and had in fact asked him during the planning stages what he wanted me to do with his corpse.
“Use me. Do everything you’ve ever dreamed of doing to a body.”
“Your face, though?”
“Yeah, especially my face, Ethan.”
I mounted the table again and slipped my cock into his mouth. Without warmth and suction, it didn’t feel especially good, but watching my cock slide in and out of his dead mouth was a sight to behold nonetheless. I lifted his head and pushed until my cock was farther down his throat than it had ever been. In fact, I think I was fucking his airway.
I realized I hadn’t emptied my bladder in hours and relaxed, letting myself go soft in his throat. Then I began to slowly piss into his windpipe, letting the urine fill his lungs. I was amazed that he was able to hold it all.
Then I resumed fucking his now-moist airway. It was tight around my cock, and it didn’t take long for the hot load of cum to join my urine in his respiratory system.
I pulled out of his mouth and dried the tip of my cock on his full lips.
I sat back a little, resting my weight on his scarred chest. What next?
I pulled back one of his eyelids and ran my finger along his still moist eyeball. Carefully seeking purchase, I slowly worked his eye out of the socket and let it dangle from a pedicle of nerve and flesh. That strand of gore reminded me of the one that had connected his severed cock to his body for some moments before I had bitten through it.
A thought occurred to me. I slid off the table and took a small knife from among my tools. I severed the optic nerve and stepped between his legs again. With careful fingers, I threaded the nerve into the hole where his trans cock had been, carefully pushing the eye into the hole, iris and pupil outward, looking slightly up at me. The fit was perfect. His blue eye starred at me from amid the ruins of his cooked genitals.
“Perfect fit,” I whispered, picking up my phone and taking a few pictures of his all-seeing cunt.
I stroked my cock until I was semi-hard again and gently pushed into his relaxed, still oil- and cum-filled asshole. As I slowly fucked him, the motion changed the gaze of the eyeball. As I thrust in, it seemed to look down at my cock, disappearing into the familiar, well-loved hole. As I pulled back, it seemed to look up toward my face, as though watching me fucking his hole and lustfully enjoying every minute of it.
I videoed myself fucking him from a couple different angles to use later. I could imagine taking the videos out for special occasion wanking for years to come.
My eye rested on his gaping front hole. Something needed to go in there. Too big for the other eye, I decided, but his tongue might look good protruding from there.
I wasn’t ready to cum again, so I pulled out and picked up the small knife.
Opening his mouth, I caressed his tongue for a moment before sliding the tip of the knife underneath it, determined to cut out as much of it as possible.
It was wet, clumsy work cutting his tongue out, but when I managed it, I had what felt like almost four inches of tissue in my hand. My cock was rock hard again as I rubbed his tongue along my shaft.
The underside was torn up from the knife work, but the top was pristine, albeit not as moist as I would have liked. I used the tip to lick the pre-cum from my cock, moaning as a strand connected tongue to slit for a moment. I brought it to my mouth and suck it, tasting blood, cum, and my husband’s breath.
I stepped between his open thighs again and pushed the messy base of the tongue into his gaping hole. After a little bit of tug of war, the eye watching all the while, just a bit more than an inch protruded from him. I was shocked by how natural it looked, as though his tongue had always been there.
I entered his ass again, fully hard this time, wondering if there tongue would be long enough to lap my shaft as I fucked his loose hole. I thrust into him and the tongue moved downward to meet my hard cock, just grazing the skin with the shyest of licks. The eye followed the tongue’s progress along my shaft with rapt attention.
Lifting my hips slightly for better contact, the tip of the tongue flattened, seeming to grow bolder. I steadied my strokes, allowing the tongue and my husband’s well lubricated hole to work their magic. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before or likely would again. My cum exploded out of me and deep inside him, the tongue lapping my sensitive cock as I shuddered with release.
I left my cock inside him, adjusting the tongue against the base of my cock, which had yet to lose its firmness. Feeling hungry again, I peeled away a piece of his pubic mound and began eating James again. Even cold, I loved his texture and flavor. I caressed his stomach as I ate, relishing not just his taste, but the feel of his cool, soft skin.
My cock eventually slipped out of him, spent and sated at least for a little while. My hunger was satisfied as well.
I felt languid and sleepy, but I knew my time with him was limited. I returned to his head again, trailing my fingers up his chest and over each burned spot where his nipples had been. They were slightly moist from the removal and cauterization. I leaned down and licked the sticky fluid that had emerged from the burns. It was both salty and sweet. I wondered what other parts of him might yield that flavor. Maybe his eyelids?
I considered his face for a moment. One eye was already in another, much improved socket. A thread of gore protruded from beneath his eyelid.
I wondered if I had the tools and patience to peel his face off. Or the skill?
I had a scalpel, in case we had needed it for the delicate work of removing his cooked labia and cock, although a simple kitchen knife and a fork had sufficed beautifully. The skin of the face was so thin. I touched his cheek and brushed my fingertips along his jawline.
I weighed the merits of my plan against the potential for failure and frustration. Curiosity got the better of me as I pondered and I slipped a finger into his empty eye socket to explore an as of yet unutilized orifice. I pushed my finger in as deep as it would go, feeling tissue give way. I would skull fuck him before this was over, although not yet.
To my surprise, inside his brain was still slightly warm to the touch. My heart palpitated as I imagined some lingering sense remaining in his body after death, feeling the surgical alterations I had made, the slow strokes of my cock in his ass, the heat of my piss flowing into his lungs. Dare I even fantasize that James had felt me cut out his tongue?
I moaned with longing, fervently wishing James could know the use I was making of his earthly remains.
My cock was suddenly half-hard again and begging for attention. I wasn’t ready to cum again, worried I would have nothing left to fill his skull. I finger fucked inside his eye socket, making a wet hole that my cock would eventually enter.
Then I decided I would cut his face off, no matter how challenging it might be. Without his face, I would truly be fucking nothing more than a gory skull.
Taking the scalpel, I made the first incision across his throat, just below his chin. My cock started to leak pre-cum as I cut. The excitement that I felt as I worked slowly and methodically on his face was difficult to endure. Every few minutes I was forced to stop and pinch the slit of my cock closed to try to avoid shooting my load too soon. It was almost unbearable.
Finally, after nearly an hour of work, I lifted his face free from his skull. It wasn’t perfect. His nose was just a hole and the edges were very ragged, but I had the entirety of his face, including his soft lips, in my hands like a Halloween mask. It still looked like him, but also not like him.
Then I turned my attention to his skull. I grabbed myself hard to stop myself from ejaculating. His skull was dark red, covered in blood, muscle, and sinew with his one remaining eye still intact in the socket. His teeth shone white against the copious, darkening red.
I looked at the face in my hands, touching the holes where the nose and mouth hand been. I grinned and positioned the mask skin out over my hard on and balls. Gently, I pushed my cock through the hole where his nose had been and then pushed my sac through the mouth, feeling his lips on my balls in a much different way than in life.
Not having a mirror, I took a few pictures with my phone. His face with my genitals protruding through looked savage and far beyond merely sexy. It looked like something ancient, powerful, and holy.
I decided I didn’t want to remove it, but couldn’t hold it in place for the rest of my farewell tour of my husband’s body. I went to the work table and found some twine. Looping in through his eye holes, I fastened the twine around my waist. My balls and the twine would keep everything neatly where it should be.
I placed my phone on his stomach and videoed myself entering his ass. The eye was cloudier now, but still followed my thrusts. The tongue caressed my shaft, and once I was balls deep in him, seemed to lightly lick his forehead.
I enjoyed the visual for as long as I could stand it. I pulled out to save my load for another hole. My cock was coated with cum, oil, and blood from his face. I wished his tongue could still lick me clean, but I could only wipe myself on his inner thigh, leaving a steak of sexual fluid along his pale skin.
Returning to stare down at his fleshless face, I knew I was ready for the last sexual act I would ever perform with him. I knelt over his face; this time I turned so that I could see his body as I penetrated him and possibly grab a tasty morsel or two while I fucked him.
I thought the eye socket would be a tight fit, but manipulating the head of my cock through the hole felt more like entering a virgin’s asshole than hard work. Applying steady pressure, I forced my cock into the damp hole my finger had made for me. The hole expanded around my hard cock.
I moaned as I felt resistance. I had fully penetrated his brain with my cock. It was incredibly wet and cool but not cold to the touch. I experimented with a few careful thrusts. Everything that had made him a man, had made him my husband, had made him human was sliding up and down along the shaft of my throbbing cock. All of our memories, all of his warmth. All of James that ever was had become fodder for my lust and a receptacle for my cum.
Reaching down I grabbed him under the jaw, underneath his grinning rictus smile, I thrust more and more forcefully into his brain. My cock thudded against the back of his skull. Fluid erupted from his mangled nostrils, soaking his chin and my hands. I had literally just fucked his brains out.
I bellowed with pleasure as I came into his skull, drenching that which had held his essential self, perhaps even his soul, in a torrent of semen as it pumped out of me in hot, thick streams. Waves of pleasure ran through my cock and balls like nothing I had ever felt before. Intense and powerful.
The orgasm seemed to last long minutes as I keened like a wounded animal on top of my husband, continuing to mindlessly fuck his eye socket and force more of his brain out of his nose and mouth. The vigor of my thrusts had popped his eye from the other socket, leaving it to swing freely along his bloody cheek.
In a fit of desperate want and need, I grabbed his eye and yanked free with an audible snap. I bought it to my mouth and shoved it inside as my hips continued their thrusts, unable to stop even though my cock was painfully over-sensitive. It was still hard and my body was intent on fucking until it went limp.
The eye was salty in my mouth and tasted of blood. I sucked it and wept from the pain in my cock and of the pain of loss, unrecoverable. At last, I swallowed his eye whole, and let out a broken cry as the pleasure of the day became overcome by more complex emotions.
Gradually, my thrusts shallowed and my cock softened. I looked at his face attached to my genitals and touched his cheeks.
I kept my cock in him for as long as I could. I held it in the socket, completely flaccid, loath to pull out of him and end our time together.
I didn’t have much in me, but I allowed a slow trickle of warm urine to fill the vast hole I had fucked into his brain. The last of what I could put in him. I was entirely spent.
The breeze around me had cooled, and the light was beginning to take on the amber glow of late afternoon. I let my cock pull free on its own and slid from the table with unsteady legs. The face around my cock and balls was smeared with blood and flecked with bits of brain. My cock was coated with pinkish tissue and my own cum.
I felt hollow inside. Stepping between his thighs, I gently pulled the tongue out of his front hole and removed the eye from the place where his trans cock had been. Leaning down, I kissed his inner thighs and rested my cheek against what was left of the parts of him we had cooked.
For the first time in my life, the gnawing sexual need was silent, at rest inside me. I turned my head, burying my face in the cooked meat of my husband’s mancunt, inhaling what remained of his scent and the spices we used in the cooking.
I opened my mouth and began tearing pieces of his perineum away, chewing and swallowing them, determined to eat as much of him as I could before it was too late. I worked my way up, my tongue finding its way into the hole left by the diminutive cock we had removed. I lapped the hole, making love to it with my mouth, before sinking my teeth into the edge and pulling the flesh away in large bites.
“I love you,” I whispered between mouthfuls of him.
I only stopped eating him when his pubic bone lay fully exposed, all of the flesh he had hated was torn away and devoured.
I had done everything we wanted. This was the end James had wanted from me, and I had given it to him.