She Only Wore a Shirt to the Funeral
- 3 years ago
- 25
- 0
After The Funeral free porn video
Author’s note: My stories so far have focussed mainly on the mechanics of sex romps, so this story is a bit of a break from form for me. There’s a little sex at the end, but mainly it’s me trying to write convincing characters. Any feedback is very welcome, but constructive criticism will earn you a special place in my little heart. Thanks!
***
‘So this must be the girlfriend.’
Every time someone said it, I could feel a shudder inside. I didn’t belong here. My narrow eyes, flat face and dark skin declared me an external intrusion into a communal moment. All around me unknown people meandered, shrouded in black like some hazy dream. They reminisced about people and places I would never know, offered benedictions and condolences in a language I couldn’t understand and innocuously ignored the aberration of my presence. Except for that statement, which was directed at Isaac, not me, because he was the one they knew. He belonged here, the unseen contents of the tactfully plain wooden container had been like a father to him. I was just baggage he brought along.
I was miserable. Some of the mourners would try to strike up a conversation with me, ask me how I met Isaac, what I was studying, what I thought of some news story or other. It was as natural as a Potemkin Village, the failed attempt just emphasizing how unnatural it was to have me here, grafted into this scene.
So there I was feeling sorry for myself, knowing the whole time how petty and self centered it was to feel sorry for myself. Everyone around me had lost a friend, a mentor, a member of their community, and I was moping because it was awkward for me. I was here for a reason. I was here because Isaac needed me to be here, and I knew that he would be there for me.
He was a few feet away, talking to a slightly stooped older woman and sharing bittersweet memories. He looked tired. Not like the times I had seen him after a night of cramming, although he had stayed at the mortuary all night reading psalms over the body. It was like a parasite was eating away his joy, draining him of life. When I had seen his face two nights ago, I had known that death was involved. It was the same look my mother had worn after her father had passed. That much stayed the same across cultures.
He had tried to be stoic, noting that Benny had been old and housebound for years. Maybe it was even a release after years of dialysis and surgery. He could tilt his lips up in a parody of a smile and mouth those platitudes, but he couldn’t stop looking like it was a part of him that died. In unguarded moments little bits of the truth leaked out. He should have visited more, should have encouraged Benny to stick to the doctors’ advice better, should have done something. Those shoulds engulfed him, suffocated him so much that I had trouble breathing. I just wanted to yell at him to let it out, let me help him. Let me do something. It wasn’t that simple, it never is. He had to work through it, and I just had to do what I could.
There were moments when he flashed to life, the weight lifting from his shoulders and it was almost like seeing him normal again. But it was like water poured on a hot plate, a brief flash of life and energy that dissipated into some invisible state. I saw it with the old lady and him when they recalled some random tidbit about the deceased. Benny had apparently been quite the character, mouthing obscenities and making bad puns. It explained a lot about Isaac. At last he broke off from the woman with a close hug and came back to me with an out of place smile on his lips.
‘Meira’s a good one,’ he said offhandedly.
‘Yeah, she seemed like it,’ I replied as pleasantly as I could muster, draping myself on his arm.
‘We got a good turn out, I was afraid we wouldn’t get a minyan,’ he continued, finishing off our almost mechanical conversation. The way he said that last word just brought home how alien all this was to me.
When I had first heard him speak Hebrew I had teased him about it, trying to mimic the strange tongue with its odd Ys, Rs and some sound that resembled coughing up phlegm. Now every word in it sounded like the tolling of a funeral bell.
The service began. Most of it was in Hebrew so I kept a respectful silence, then came a eulogy in English with some more reminiscing. At last, the casket was lowered into the ground and everyone shoveled a heap of dirt onto it. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to or not, and I was too abashed to ask. So I stood there, and watched the ashen faced mourner’s filed by. Isaac was the last in the line.
***
We went to another small ceremony that night where we had a light dinner, then headed back to our place. Isaac found a seat and brooded, I put some of the food that had been passed to us in the fridge and came back to give him shoulder rub. For a few minutes nothing was said between us.
‘Thanks for going today.’
‘No, it was nice to see all those people you told me about.’
He gave an aborted chuckle.
‘You know one of things I love about you? You’re a shitacular liar.’
‘Shaddap,’ I play growled, pinching the side of his neck.
We wrestled a little, giggling until I tumbled over the arm of his chair pressing into him. Our faces were inches apart, our noses brushed a little. I leaned in closer, feeling his hardness grow against my thigh.
He stopped.
‘I don’t think I’m up for it.’ He didn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.
I ran a hand through his hair, feeling the curls wrap around my fingers. I squirmed so that I was sitting across his lap, my head nestled in the nook formed by his neck and shoulder, my legs hanging over the side of the chair
‘Can you hold me at least?’
‘Always,’ he said as his arms tightened around me, our lips touching for a fleeting kiss.
We stayed like that for a while.
***
The next few days fell into a routine. We would both work, come home, have something to eat, make small talk, and go to bed. Things were slowly returning to normality: bad jokes, complaining about our respective jobs and playful flirtation. There was still a cloud that hung over Isaac, but it was fading.
One night, I was groggily brought back from dreamland by a hand on my shoulder and a shaky voice.
‘Cathy?’
‘Yeah Itsy?’ I responded with my pet name for him, only half awake.
‘I just…’
I put a finger to his lips, then embraced him, whispering into his ear.
‘You don’t have to explain.’
Silence, then a faint murmur
‘Yes, I do.’
I kissed him on the temple.
‘I’m always here to listen. You don’t need to rush.’
‘I know I haven’t been very good to you lately.’
‘None of that Jewish guilt bullshit,’ I said with a soft chuckle.
‘Oy, take all my little pleasures, you Dragon Lady you!’ he exclaimed with the fakest Yiddush accent I’ve ever heard.
‘Don’t make me get my whip and leather!’
I didn’t manage to keep a straight face, and dragged him down with me into a giggling fit.
‘I love you,’ he said after we both recovered.
‘I know.’
‘I never was there for Benny enough, I don’t want the same to happen between us.’
I squeezed him tightly.
‘Itsy, I love you, but you say some silly things. You’re too much a part of me not to be there for me. And from all I’ve heard, Benny probably couldn’t get rid of you either.’
He laughed, and laughter turned to tears. I just held him and comforted him as best I could.
***
The week of mourning passed, life returned to more or less normal. We did normal things. Went out with friends, had drinks, had fun. We didn’t have sex though, we just didn’t find the mood again. . One day I came home to find him back early, pacing and fidgeting with his hands like a kindergartner preparing to tell his mom he broke the window.
He flashed a nervous smile at me when he noti
ced I was back.
‘You’re home early,’ I observed.
‘Yeah, I had to run some errands and I figured I might as well take the rest of the day off. Make up for being the guy who’s there late all the time.’
I gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.
‘Taking longer to do things is not an excuse for doing less.’
‘It is if you’re the one to do them right!’
‘That’s a big ‘if’,’ I said, opening the refrigerator and noticing we still dangerously under stocked. ‘Unless ‘doing things right’ doesn’t include keeping me fed. What errands did you run?’
‘Shit! I actually meant to get some groceries, but I kind of got caught up and forgot.’
I eyed him a little suspiciously. Something was up.
‘Got caught up in what?’
‘Ah, well, I kind of wanted. Well, given you know, and I just thought we’d been together for two years now…’
It suddenly felt like my guts were in zero gravity as all the pieces fell together. Isaac wasn’t pone for nerves, but there were things that were so big that there was no way around nerves. All this hemming and hawing could only mean one thing.
‘Isaac, you didn’t…’ I couldn’t finish that sentence.
‘Uh, here,’ he whipped out the little box and flipped it open. There were three diamonds, inlaid in gold, sparkling up at me. ‘After everything, I can’t…’
There was a pause where he struggled for words. I didn’t waste the opportunity, throwing my arms around him and mashing my lips against his. I’m not going to lie, it was more than a little sloppy.
‘Yes!’ I yipped excitedly as soon as we broke off. Everything was one big endorphin rush, I felt like a little ball of energy on the brink of bursting. I mean, we’d talked about it a few times, and I was a hopeless romantic who always wanted to get married. But I hadn’t thought it would be so soon!
‘What if I told you it was a break up ring?’ he mused in a relieved tone.
‘Then your next lover would need a taste for castrati,’ I retorted pulling him in for another kiss. Our bodies pressed together rubbing against each other. I felt his cock pressing in to me, and I felt my own juices between my thighs, suddenly very aware of how my panties slid against my skin, of the space inside me that was empty. That needed filling.
‘Well, I do have a beautiful choir voice,’ he chuckled.
‘Shut the fuck up and ravish me,’ was all I had to say.
We stumbled into the bedroom shedding a trail of clothes until I flopped onto the bed, naked. He escaped his underwear and slid up over me, kissing and sucking at my skin as ht advanced, taking my nipples into his mouth and biting them gently. God I loved that, but I wanted him more. I tugged up at his shoulders until we were kissing again. My lips found the spot right under his jaw that always made him crazy, and I felt his shaft, thick and throbbing, against my thigh.
I reached down and took a hold of it, guiding it into my lower lips. I felt him sink into my, my slick wall enveloping him. He filled me, completed me. Every sense seemed supercharged: every touch electric, every glimpse beautiful, and every smell, taste and sound exquisite. Yet I still was oblivious to my surroundings, because the only thing that mattered was that the man I loved was part of me.
Somehow I wound up on top, bouncing away as he ravished me, his hands and lips exploring everything they could touch. I felt him empty himself into my womb and a few seconds later felt myself succumb to crashing wave of orgasm. We lay there for a few moments, him sprawled on the bed and me sprawled over him.
A few moments later he rose like the Phoenix. I don’t know how many times we made love, one faded into the next until we collapsed, exhausted, having given ourselves completely to one another.
***
The wedding took 6 months to happen, and 6 months after that our first child was born. We named him Benjamin An Shing (my grandfather’s name). My parents made displeased noises about how quickly we had our first child, but they were quick to spoil the boy rotten (my mother seems to think that nothing short of an elephant is adequate food). Despite all the coddling, he is a remarkably precocious little guy, and more than a little bit of a handful.
As for Isaac and me, we’re looking forward to our second anniversary. And although I haven’t told him yet, we may also be looking forward to our second child. I’m 4 weeks late as I type this, so I’m going to go out and get a test today. Guess this means no wine for our anniversary. I hope it’s a girl!
Nanette
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