Dead Girls Like Me

Sheldon Sands took another swig of soda from his can, wishing, not for the first time since he'd opened it, that it were a little more alcoholic than Coke tended to be. His friends were dull enough while he was intoxicated, but sober, he was having difficulty amusing even himself.

"So," he said, deciding to take a shot at striking up a conversation. "Ever get any hot chicks in?"

Nate's laugh was more like a scoff and he set his empty can on the counter with a hollow clunk.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Though I don't know if I'd describe them as being hot, exactly, what with them being -dead- and all..." he trailed off, eyeing the bag of chips in Jimmy's lap and contemplating whether or not it was worth it to dismount is perch on the counter and walk across the kitchen to claim it for himself. "But yeah, some of them are relatively attractive. Actually, the one we have in the basement, right now, is quite a looker."

"Dude, aren't they all like, old?"

Scott was the one person in the group anyone else could rely to instantly boost their wavering self esteem. In addition to being spotty and a little more than slightly overwieght, he definitely wasn't what one would call the brightest crayon in the box. The other boys wondered if they should even bother correcting him.

"I'd say she's about our age, maybe a little older," Nate continued, not completely ignoring Scott's assinine inquiry yet somehow managing to answer it at the same time. He saw the stupid boy nod from the corner of his eye.

"Yeah?" Sheldon asked, trying to keep the curiosity out of his voice. He moved to take another sip from his soda can but found it empty, save for the last few unreachable drops clinging frustratingly to the crevices on the inside top of the can. He shook it above his open mouth a few times before giving up, crushing it manfully against his forehead (something which had taken much practise and ibuprofen to eventually achieve), and going to the fridge for another.

"What's she look like?" he asked over his shoulder. He couldn't find the cola he knew had just been on the second shelf like, a second ago. Disappointed to have to put such an abrupt end to his mandatory caffiene intake, he grudgingly grabbed a root beer and returned to his seat at the table.

"Well, like I said, she's pretty hot. Got longish wavy hair, strawberry blonde..."

"The best of both worlds," Sheldon piped in, raising his can a little in a psuedo toast. Everyone in the room knew that he was rather fond of both blondes and red-heads...and brunettes...hell, what did he give a damn about their hair colour? As hair dye became more popular it was more difficult to surmise personality based on hair colour.

"She's pretty thin, really nice rack--"

"Yeah, how big?" asked Jimmy, who had been strangely silent for the past few minutes. It must be the late hour combined with a subject he knew almost nothing about--women.

"I'd say C-cup at least...probably more like D. I dunno, I didn't get a very good look at her. I just brought the phone down to dad when he was working on her earlier, today."

Jimmy nodded in response before turning his attention back to the bag in his lap.

"Oh, and--you guys'll love this--she's -shaved-."

"What, seriously?" all of them chimed in, at once. Nate smiled with pride. He liked impressing his friends. Even if the girl in the basement really had nothing to do with him, he thought nothing about talking about her like she was his girlfriend, or a hot chick at school he'd somehow managed to bed.

"Dude," Sheldon intoned, thoughtfully. "Can..." he took another gulp of soda, "Can we see her?"

Nate's lips twisted into a smirk and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I thought you might say that."

"Well...?"

After a moment of silence, Nate said that yes, he supposed they could.

"Rock on. I'm excited. She sounds really hot. If she weren't dead I'd probably do her," Sheldon gushed, pushing his chair noisily away from the table and standing up way too enthusiastically for his own good.

Nate raised an eyebrow and looked meaningfully at his companions. They all seemed to be sharing some secret, something that Sheldon didn't and wasn't supposed to know about. He -hated- when they did that, the bastards.

"Okay, what?" he asked after a few short moments of forced tolerance. He definitely wasn't the patient type, especially not late at night, and he hated being left out of things.

"You know," Nate began slowly, conspiratorially. "Just because she's dead, doesn't mean you can't..." he made a few suggestive hand motions, "....you know."

This brought about a series of chortles and giggles from the other boys, who were just now beginning to understand what that look in Nate's eyes had portended.

"Dude. No way. I'm not -that- desperate." Although, truth be told, it had been an uncharacteristically long time for Sheldon. It was probably his sister's fault, that whore. No one else seemed to satisfy the itch that she'd planted under his skin, years before. No one else really interested him, and he hated her for it. Except he loved her, God he loved her. And he wanted to fuck her like there was no tomorrow.

"I'll give you five bucks for it."

Sheldon raised his eyebrow skeptically. Nate mentally nudged the other two boys, who, for once, took the hint immediately and offered their collective ten dollars, as well.

"What about you, Jake?"

"What? What did I miss?" he asked, just having all but stumbled back in from the bathroom.

"We're gonna pay Shel five bucks each to fuck the hot babe in the basement."

Jake looked confused, then intrigued, then just plain excited.

"There's a -girl- in the -basement-?"

Nate gave him a Look. Jake still didn't seem to get it. He was still wondering why on God's green earth they would be up here if there was a girl in the basement.

"Dude," Sheldon finally decided to help him out. "She's dead. This is a funeral home. They want me. To fuck. A dead girl."

They could almost hear the gears shifting just as something clicked into place inside Jake's drug-addled brain. No doubt he'd been toking up in the bathroom, -again-.

"Ohhhh," he said, nodding comprehendingly. "Dude."

"Yeah," Sheldon agreed, snapping the tab from his soda can and bending it out of shape with his teeth.

"If my mom smells that in there she'll kill me," Nate said, suddenly catching a whiff of the reason for Jake's extended visit to the little boys room.

Jake pretended to not have heard him.

"Sure, I'll pitch in."

Sheldon glared at his alledged friends, suddenly feeling the four million sodas he'd consumed that night. Suffice it to say, he no longer wanted to take a little trip down to the basement to visit this broad, no matter how hot she might be. Still, curiosity mixed with the soda and anxiety in his stomach, and he'd be lying if he'd said he didn't at least wonder what it would be like to fornicate with the deceased.

"I'm not going down there," he said, plunking rebelliously down onto his chair and spitting the tab onto the table.

"C'mon, man! It's twenty bucks -and- a screw. If you're worried about rejection, I can pretty much guarantee it won't be a problem."

Sheldon sighed. Nate was always so damn convincing.

+++

"Are you sure your dad won't, like, come down or something?" Sheldon whispered as they decended the staircase leading to the "work room".

"No, man. Don't worry about it. My parents are fast asleep," Nate assured his friend, though he really wasn't completely positive. But morbid fascination drove him harder than his anxiety could pull him back, and so he said that words that would help Sheldon continue with this highly irregular activity.

The lights flickered eerily on and the antiseptically white room was illuminated by the flourescent bulbs in the ceiling. The unnatural greenish glow made everything appear even more dream like, nightmarish even, and the smell of death hung heavy in the air. Sheldon swallowed. The closest he'd ever been to a dead body was at his grandmother's funeral when he was seven. He hadn't really thought much of it. He felt nothing, never having been at all close to her, or even old enough to fully comprehend death, at all. All he felt was the strange urge to reach out and touch her powdery cheek and feel for the first time how cold death really was.

Somehow, his feet had managed to carry him all the way up to the stainless steel table where the girl lay, a crisp white sheet draped over her limp body, leaving only her head and feet exposed. She was pretty, this he could tell all ready. Her eyelashes were long and dark, her lips full and pulled into an eternal pout. Her nose was smallish and her pale (blue-tinted, even) skin was sprinkled with a few neatly-arranged freckles, mostly across her nose and on her round cheeks. Her toes were also very cute.

"I dunno, you guys..." Sheldon said hesitantly. Sure, she was pretty, but she was also pretty dead. The weirdness of it all had finally seized him, and it didn't look as though it were planning on releasing its grip any time soon.

"You've gotta do it," Jake urged from his place at the foot of the stairs with the other boys.

"C'mon, Shel! Twenty bucks! It's not like you couldn't use the cash!" Nate waggled his eyebrows at Sheldon in a way that somehow creeped out the latter even more than he all ready was.

But his friend was right. He was dead (no pun intended) broke. He was having zero luck finding a job and it didn't look like the situation would improve much in the immediate future. He really could use twenty bucks.

He took a deep breath, his nostrils filling with the strong stench of formaldahyde, the less intrusive scent of rubbing alcohol, and the inevitable, organic smell of dead body.

He balled his hands into tight fists to keep them from shaking. He knew he could do this. He knew that if he chickened out, not only would he miss out on the money, but his friends would never let him live it down, even though it was doubtful that any of them would ever do what they expected of him. Typical.

Swallowing hard, he reached tentatively forward and pulled down the sheet, slowly.

There were sounds of approval from behind him. Sheldon had not been the only one to agree with Nate's assesment of the girl's endowments. They were quite ample, indeed, and they looked very soft and pleasing. Instinctively, Sheldon reached out to touch one, but promptly yanked his hand away as though he had been burned somehow by the coldness of death. His grandmother hadn't felt like -that-.

"Wow," he said, laughing nervously, his faith in his ability to go through with this ridiculous dare slipping rapidly from his grasp. "Fucking cold."

"No shit, Sherlock," Nate said with a chuckle. Sheldon wanted to strangle him. But all in good time.

"What did she die of?" he asked, his eyes scanning the surface of her nude body, shamelessly. "Her skin looks so flawless."

"Dad might have all ready patched her up," Nate suggested. "But I really have no idea. Why don't you ask her, yourself?"

Sheldon snorted. "She doesn't seem like much of a talker." But he almost wished she were.

Gathering as much courage as he could, he reached his hand out again, this time closing his eyes as he did so. After the intial shock of just how cold she was, he could almost begin to enjoy the feel of her breast in his hand. He kneaded it a little, eyes still closed, fingers toying uselessly with the soft nipple at the center of the fleshy orb. He decided that it would be all right for his other hand to join in, and so he stood over her, groping her unresponsive breasts, keeping his eyes shut against her unmoving form, her closed eyes, her slack mouth with none of the familiar sounds emitting from it...

He could do this, and he told himself so, aloud.

"You should get on with it, though," Nate said suddenly, startling Sheldon out of his nearly meditative activity. "You know, in case my parents should wake up or something..."

Sheldon didn't like the sound of that, but he knew that Nate was only getting impatient. Well this wasn't his affair, now was it? He would just have to put up with however long it took Sheldon to feel like he was ready.

"Haven't you ever heard of foreplay?" he asked wryly, the ghost of a smirk playing across his lips.

"Don't think it'll do you much good in this case, bro."

But Sheldon didn't hear him. He was too busy trying to figure out the mechanics of it all.

He pulled the sheet off the rest of the way and let it fall, forgotten for the moment, to the floor. Revealed before him was a small, rounded stomach, slender, well-formed legs and, nestled between them, a perfect peach of female genitalia sans any sign of fuzz (so he supposed, technically, it was more like a nectarine). He felt his lips pull into a smirk, despite himself. Yeah...he could do this.

"Okay," he said, more himself than anyone else. "How the fuck am I going to do this?"

He clambered awkwardly up onto the table, trying hard not to touch the corpse any more than necessary as he positioned himself on his haunches at her feet. Swallowing the sick feeling that was returning to his throat, he forced apart her stiff legs enough for him to wriggle in between them. It was the most difficult prying apart of legs he'd ever had to do in his life, and that was saying something.

Just as he was about to unzip his fly, he noticed something that made his shoulders slump and his stomach churn.

"Uh...Nate...?"

"Yeah?"

"...There's...cotton."

"It's to keep her from leaking all over the place."

That was something Sheldon could have done without hearing.

"Just take it out and be on your merry way."

"Yeah, easy for -you- to say..." Sheldon said, looking around him for a tool he could use to extract the cotton; he wasn't too sanguine about picking it out, manually. Since Jimmy was black, he fleetingly considered asking him, jokingly of course, to do it for him, but decided against it at the last minute. He finally located something, on the tray attatched to the side of the table, and wielded it inexpertly but very carefully. When he was reasonably sure that all of the cotton had been removed, he came to another disheartening realisation.

"What the -fuck- am I going to use for lube?" he said, eyes searching the immediate vicinity for something sufficient.

"What do you need lube for?" Scott asked, genuinely puzzled.

Sheldon just stared at him for a moment, his face all sharp angles and silent exclaimations of "My -God- you're stupid!".

"I just pulled cotton from a dead girl's pussy," he said, enunciating and speaking very slowly, as though to a small child or a mentally retarded person, either of whose mentalities were probably about equal to Scott's. "I have trouble getting my dick into a live girl's relatively moist pussy. You do the math." He mentally congratulated himself for not throwing his penis size into the equation, even though the opportunity to do so had been so readily available. He must have been really off to pass up an opportunity like that.

"Just use this," Nate offered, tossing him a bottle of lotion he'd found on his father's desk.

Sheldon read the bottle as he pumped some of its contents into his cupped palm and smiled. "Curel," he said to himself, paying silent tribute to the involvement of this particular brand of lotion in his loss of virginity.

He worked the cold cream up and down his half hardened member, stroking it a little more than necessary in an attempt to coax it into its full length. Sheldon glued his eyes to the girl's large breasts, her inviting sex, and soon he was ready for entry.

Just as he was about to plunge in, he became suddenly and uncharacteristically self-concious.

"Um, guys...? Do you -have- to watch? I mean...can't, like, -one- of you watch and report it back to the others to prove that I did it?"

They allowed hope a little time to lodge into Sheldon's brain for a moment before Nate broke the silence and dispelled it.

"No way I'm not staying to watch a show that I'm paying good money to see."

"Five bucks?" Sheldon asked, incredulous.

"Still. We stay, you fuck, we pay. It's not hard."

Sheldon was about to protest, but one look at the girl's unnaturally pale face could change that in a second. He forced himself to focus only on her tits.

"Fine," he groaned, positioning himself reluctantly at her opening.

Squeezing his eyes shut so tightly that he could see colourful things beginning to dance behind his eyelids, he held his breath, grabbed the base of his cock firmly and shoved it all the way in.

"Agh..."

He shuddered at how cold, how yielding, how completely motionless she was. Chilly shivers ran up and down the length of his spine and cause his skin to break out into gooseflesh. It wasn't right. It wasn't particularly pleasant. Yet, in a way that Sheldon could never hope to explain, it was kind of arousing.

Keeping his eyes either shut or trained on her breasts, which jiggled pleasingly with every hesitant thrust (this, at least, was normal behaviour), he willed himself closer to orgasm, pretending that it was his sister beneath him and not a corpse (Though, as nice as it would be to have Kate so willingly succumb to him, he would prefer at least a -little- response). He thought of whatever it would take to get it over as quickly as possible. As a result of his wild imaginings, he began to increase the speed, the depth of his thrusts. The table wobbled precariously, the surgical instruments in the tray rattled and clinked against one another. He fucked her so vigorously he thought he heard a couple of her bones cracking.

Nate, at least, was resisting the urge to start jerking off.

When finally he'd spent himself inside her dead hole, he had to stop himself from collapsing instinctively on top of her. He hadn't come that hard in a long time, and he was exhausted. Instead of making a note to fall asleep as quickly as possible to avoid pillow talk, he had to clean her up as quickly as he could so that he could get out of there and take a shower. A long, hot shower.

He tucked himself back into his pants, stuffed the cotton sloppily into her opening, arranged her limbs into their original postion, pulled the sheet over her and all but ran past the boys and up the stairs. This would be a night that Sheldon Sands would never, ever forget, even if he wanted to, which, oddly enough, he would find that he didn't.