THE LOVE THAT NEVER DIES: Erotic Encounters with the Undead

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THE LOVE THAT NEVER DIES: Erotic Encounters with the Undead Page 7

by Christian, M


  Into the forest again he strode, knowing full well she watched him from a window above, but not looking back, else he be turned to ice with the horror of what he saw.

  MEMORY MANPM WHITE

  Even in the dark, the heat sucked ass.

  Tanya threw her keys onto the coffee table and walked through her humid one-bedroom apartment, heading straight for the bedroom without bothering to turn on the lights. There, under the window, sat her squat wooden chest of drawers. The top drawer contained her dildo. She had just the one, which was flesh-colored, and made to look like a real cock. It filled with water and had a switch to turn the vibrator on inside. Standard stuff, but all she really needed. Even though she lived alone, Tanya kept the vibrator under her underwear and tube socks. She fucked herself silly with it nearly every night.

  Her apartment faced the pool shared by all the tenants of the apartment. Next to it were swings and slides for the children living in the complex to amuse themselves with. A full moon cast a silver glow over the equipment and rippled white over the small waves lapping at the edge of the pool. Tanya's downstairs neighbors, a young Hispanic couple whose names she could never remember, snuggled against each other at one end of the pool. From her vantage point on the second floor, she had a bird's-eye view of the two. Tanya unzipped her black skirt and let it fall around her red high heels. Next came her white cotton panties. Next came the dildo. Leaning against the window sill, staring toward the pool, she planted one leg high atop the chest of drawers. Thus situated, she thrust the dildo in deep, grinding it upward until the plastic balls at the end of the shaft squished against the lower curve of her ass.

  Imagining how cool the water must feel, what a release it would be from the oppressive Arizona heat, Tanya watched the two fuck in the water. The Hispanic woman, hair long and black, lay pressed against the side of the pool. Her eyes stared toward the heavens and her large tits and wide brown nipples sloshed the water around her neck. He fucked her hard, slamming the woman against the edge. Tanya thrust hard, matching the young man's gyrations. Using her right hand, she spread her lips apart, while pumping the dildo in and out with the other. A moment later she slid two fingers inside, feeling the fake veins of the rubber cock and her own wetness.

  At any moment the two could be interrupted. While it was uncommon, there were others who enjoyed late night sessions in the pool. She had only seen the two break it up once before, and that was when a bunch of teenagers hopped the fence to the complex on their way to some party. In the light of the full moon, she found it quite easy to watch the couple fuck. Were there others in the apartment complex that did the same? Were there residents just like her, hiding in their own rooms jacking off to them? Tanya doubted it, most were old and seemed more interested in reality television than sex. Plus she had the killer vantage point at her place. Tanya shook the thoughts from her mind and focused on the dildo and the two lovers below.

  * * * *

  As a sex fiend, I'm probably the worst there is at the job. As a functional part of humanity, I'm damn near worthless. Most people that know me call me a "Memory," a remnant of someone else's life that carried on after that person changed their entire personality. Something like that anyway. I don't care to get too involved in philosophical nonsense. I just do my shit.

  Memories are all over the place. To me it's like watching television, but with real actors that aren't there, performing right in front of you. I can sit in a room and watch things that happened there years ago as if they were happening right then and there. Sometimes shit got pretty wild, too.

  I don't watch the terrible stuff. Almost every house has a dark tale to tell. Rape and murder, drunken husbands blowing their brains out after learning their wives were dicking other husbands; those don't interest me. They freak me out a little when I see them, but they aren't what I'm after. I look for the raunchy shit.

  There are times, like tonight, that I drift around and catch things going on at the moment. Most people don't see me. The girl fucking herself with the dildo saw me, which was good and bad. Good because I got to talk to someone that reminded me of her, bad in that I don't talk much these days. I get a little dumb with my words. And getting dumb with some women never works.

  I came through the wall of her apartment complex after making it past a fat guy covered in tattoos and his three little kids. They didn't see me. From there I went upstairs. That's where I found her. The woman had long blond hair, with black highlights at the roots and at the end of her hair, bangs straight across her forehead and black eyebrows. Her skin had a well-tanned, too perfect look. This was one who cared about her appearance and took pains to make herself something to see. She stopped me dead in my tracks.

  "My God. You look just like her," I said. The woman leapt like she'd been struck by lightning. Her dildo fell to the floor. I leapt as well, equally shocked that she'd heard me.

  * * * *

  Tanya thought she'd have a heart attack when she heard the voice. She liked to think of herself as a "tough chick," one who had no problem taking on any trouble that barreled her way. Instead she fell against the wall, placing her hands over herself as if she'd been caught masturbating by her grade school teacher. For all she knew, that's exactly who it was. Her heart thudded in her chest as she surveyed the darkness of her stifling-hot room. There, by the door, she saw the shape of a man, glowing in a strange greenish-blue light. He appeared to be of medium height, no bulging muscles that she could make out, quite average, with dark shadows covering his eyes and face. Her mind registered that this wasn't your average home invader, but something far different. Then she realized the glowing man, like her, leapt back when she did.

  "Jesus, you're a ghost!"

  The Memory raised his hand, looking down ashamedly. "No. Not a ghost. You can see me?"

  "Of course I can see you!" Tanya worked her blouse down with her hands, hoping to cover her crotch and the small patch of black hair, finely manicured, visible there. "Who are you? What are you doing here? Oh, my God, leave me alone!"

  "I'm not anything. Just a thing," he replied timidly. "A memory of someone, that's all. You're not supposed to be able to see me. Usually only those who work at it can see me."

  "What are you doing in my apartment? In my room?"

  He stammered. "I was passing through. I saw you. You reminded me of someone. The reason I exist."

  "I don't understand. You need to go away." Tanya dropped to her knees and reached for her skirt. She grabbed her dildo and threw it aside, as it had fallen atop her clothing. "I must be crazy," she muttered.

  "I am real," he replied, taking a step closer.

  "No, don't come closer!"

  "Okay."

  "Just tell me why you are here." She swallowed hard, quickly pulling her skirt over her tanned legs. Slowly, Tanya edged her way to the corner of her bed. "I remind you of someone? Jesus, I can't believe I'm talking to a ghost."

  "Not a ghost. I'm what you call a Memory. Yes. A woman I knew once. You are so like her. Her name was Lane. I loved her more than I thought I was capable of loving someone. I loved her voice, her touch, her words, her intellect, her taste and smell, and she hated me."

  Tanya lowered her head to stare at her hand. It made a fist in her lap. She hadn't intended that. Swallowing hard, she said, "My name is Tanya."

  "I don't know mine," the Memory answered. "I'm a Memory, or a Memory Man, as some call us. Nothing more. Do you like backgammon? Faux painting?"

  "I do," she answered. "I guess I do. There are lots of things I like. You should see my Facebook page."

  "She did, too. Strange."

  "What is a Memory? We all have memories, but we don't all have ones that walk around glowing and barging into people's apartments. What the hell are you?"

  * * * *

  Her voice sounded as soft and musical as Lane's. It felt like a lullaby in my ears. I stayed rooted to the spot. If there were more similarities between Tanya and Lane, then she would not tolerate further closeness, not unless
she allowed it.

  "A Memory is the aftermath of someone's pain, someone's absolute joy, something so powerful that it births a spirit of its own," I told her. "I came from someone's heartbroken existence. His memories were so vivid, so painful, and so terribly potent, that I carried on. The man who created me, either through sheer force of will or death, cut the memories from himself and I was left to roam. Whether he found a means to cope with the loss or his soul was snuffed from this world like a candle, I don't know. I do not age, nor do I die. It actually fucking sucks sometimes."

  I wanted to tell her more, every experience I've had as a Memory, but something held me back. Really, I spent my days looking for sexual action, but I didn't want to share that with her. Not yet. I didn't want to fumble over my words.

  Tanya laughed. "Absolute happiness cannot remain that way forever and the only way from there is down. It's a painful drop."

  "I'm proof of that."

  "I don't think I really believe this conversation." She laughed nervously, biting her lower lip. "I've heard of ghosts. I've heard of vampires and poltergeists, but not Memories. It sounds contrived."

  "Memories are far different than that. There are a few of us. We sort of travel around searching for new ways to explore our own memories. Others just mope around.

  We can see into the past in any location we visit and see what has happened there before, sort of reliving the memories of any given location."

  "Any memory?" she asked timidly.

  I stepped a little closer. Surprisingly, she let me do it without saying anything. "Everything that has happened in this room, for instance, I can see."

  "Prove it." Tanya moved her arm as if she were blessing the walls of her bedroom. "What happened in here last night?"

  I did a quick rewind in my head. Just like that I blinked through the beginning of the day on backwards to the night before. I saw darkness turn to daylight and back to darkness again. I saw Tanya asleep in her bed, barely moving, as I turned back the clock. Then I saw her atop her blankets, naked save for a turquoise bra that pushed her breasts into round, tanned globes on her chest. She pushed her dildo deep between her legs, biting her pillow to avoid a loud orgasm.

  "You were in here alone wearing a bra like the color of the ocean in the tropics," I said. "You appeared to be having a good time. Like tonight, at least before you saw me."

  "Holy shit."

  "I told you I can see everything from the past." What I didn't tell her was how turned on I got watching her do that to herself. How I was still watching it.

  "Go back further. Like a couple of years. Who had sex in this room before?"

  I snapped back to the present. Tanya leaned forward on the edge of her bed, obviously excited by my ability, and maybe a little turned on.

  "Who had sex?" I asked, a little taken back that she would think like me.

  "Don't tell me you haven't played voyeur when you've walked into a room and rewound time!"

  "I have. Yes, actually, I kind of enjoy that," I answered. "I hope you don't think less of me for it?"

  Tanya shrugged, her blond hair bouncing at her shoulders. "Everyone likes sex. Why shouldn't you? You obviously know I like it."

  Smiling, I moved to the end of the bed and sat beside the beautiful woman. "I will do as you ask." Tanya made no move to stop me from sitting beside her.

  Looking at the memories of a particular room comes as no effort for me. Staring back a single day or a handful of years makes little difference. I sped through the past of Tanya's bedroom, seeking something particularly memorable and found exactly that in no time.

  "Here's something," I smiled. "Three men and a single girl. They're all naked right over here by the closet door. The woman has shoulder length black hair, brown eyes, and a mole on her left cheek. I'd say this was about five years ago."

  "I moved in about two years ago," Tanya replied. "Tell me more. What did the guys look like?"

  "One is black, with dreadlocks hanging to his shoulders. The other two are white, though one has light brown dreadlocks also. The other has a shaved head and tattoos of dragons on both of his arms. He's got Chinese letters on his stomach. They're standing around the woman. She's on her knees sucking all of them. The black man is holding her head with both hands, fucking her skull. She's taking every inch of the guy. The other two guys are jerking themselves off against both sides of her face. I get it. There's a webcam going behind me. They're doing this online.

  "Now she's turned and is sucking the white guy with the dreadlocks. She's fondling the balls of the other two. Now she's sucking the shaved head. The black guy is trying to fit his cock into her mouth at the same time. She's trying to fit them both in. The other guy is reaching down with both hands, pinching her nipples, and grabbing handfuls of tit. The shaved head guy just came all over her face. The black guy is wiping it around with his dick. He looks about ready to cum."

  "Internet sex in my room? That is so hot!" she grabbed hold of my shoulder as she spoke. I nearly leapt out of my skin.

  "Jesus! You can touch me?"

  Tanya laughed nervously. "Apparently. I can see right through you, but it seems you are just as solid as any other guy when it comes to touching."

  "I've not been touched," I told her. "Not ever, except in my memories of my creator."

  "Never?"

  Tanya leaned close to me, rubbing her lips across my face, but not kissing. Her breath smelled sweet, like cinnamon, her lips silky smooth. She bit my lower lip suddenly, laughing slightly as she held it in her mouth.

  "Do your clothes come off?" she asked with an air of playfulness in her voice.

  I reached for the button of my shirt. "They do. I've taken them off before. Just for a change of pace I guess. No one saw me, though. I've never actually told anyone that before."

  "Let me do it."

  * * * *

  Tanya took her time on his shirt, placing the garment beside her on the bed. Like the Memory, the button-up shirt also glowed of its own accord. The apparition appeared tense, almost shivering, when she reached for his trousers. Tanya sensed his nervousness as she ran her fingers down the front of his bare chest, wondering if he'd be too nervous to perform. This proved not to be the case, however, when she reached for the buckle on his pants. Rubbing her hands on his crotch before unfastening the belt, Tanya smiled. Definite hardness there. One rock solid cock. She moved faster, wanting to get at him as quickly as possible. Within moments she had his glowing prick in her hands. It felt strong and masculine in her fingers, as if it were made to her personal specifications.

  She jerked on it with one hand while unbuttoning her blouse with the other. She wore a sports bra beneath, which she worked over her large breasts and quickly flung against the wall. Her brown nipples appeared dark blue against the glow of the Memory's skin, as her breasts settled against her chest. In her hand, she felt her visitor's cock swell at the sight of them. Men had always admired her breasts. She made no bones about the fact they were the best money could buy.

  Still holding his hard cock, Tanya stood up and squirmed out of her skirt. She kicked it aside before dropping to her knees at the edge of the bed. She moved her face toward the tip of his penis, opening her mouth to take him in. Suddenly she stopped.

  "It's okay, isn't it?" she asked.

  The Memory answered in a husky, excited tone. "Don't know. I've never really done this before."

  Throwing her fears to the wind, she gulped his glowing cock into her mouth, feeling his shaft slide wetly over her tongue. It tingled, vibrating with its own energy. Tanya gagged for moment, finding her rhythm, as the Memory sighed in fantastic pleasure. Her hands reached around his waist, grabbing his lower back, scratching his flesh.

  He grabbed her scalp, running his fingers through her golden hair, as she crammed every inch of his erection down her throat.

  Tanya leapt into his lap. She forced the Memory onto his back atop the mattress, her breasts swinging with frantic, lustful movements, and quickly pushe
d his cock between her legs. Her thighs pressed against his naked body, warm and alluring, as she leaned over him. Her nipples grazed against his flesh. His hardness knew no bounds as he entered her.

  He panted. "I considered myself a sex fiend, but all I did was watch. I watched sex like it was on television. I never knew it could feel this way."

  "It feels good," she replied, her voice strained as she worked her body up and down atop him. "Very yummy."

  He grabbed Tanya's waist, flipping her around as he brought his own body on top of her. Once settled onto her back, the Memory hefted her legs into the air, driving his cock deep inside her. Tanya screamed, not caring whether the neighbors could hear her through the paper thin walls. She came harder than she had thought was possible for her. A moment later he pulled himself from her, spraying ejaculate all over her stomach and pelvis. His cum glowed white as it splattered her body, covering her in sticky wetness. Tanya reached to her stomach, dipping the tip of her finger in one of the puddles, then sliding it into her mouth.

  She smiled. "Salty."

  The Memory collapsed atop her, nuzzling his face into her hair. She smelled beautiful, like a spring rain, just as Lane smelled. The two lay quietly for a moment, catching their breath. Finally Tanya spoke.

  * * * *

  "What made her so special that your creator would suffer so badly?" she asked me.

  "Her smile. The way she slept, the way she laughed and laid her head on my shoulder. Her outlook on the world. Even her stubbornness. Everything about her was fresh and electric. Such a perfect fit to my own cynical nature, my own desire to find love outside of the norm. There were things she said, sort of 'signature' phrases. One was 'I know these things.' It warmed my heart to hear those words."

  I sighed. In my mind, I could see her at the grocery store picking her favorite Merlot, at a bonfire sitting atop a boulder, studying at a coffee shop, helping to pick out a shower curtain, feeding me my first taste of sushi; so many little things that I would never forget from so long ago.

 

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