Morgue Visit

Mr. Doe shivers as a cold blast of air blows around him. He tries not to think about the cold tile underneath his feet. Or the rows of cadavers stored not a few feet away in the little mini-freezers like on TV. Faye on the other hand, doesn’t seem to mind. Even with the antiseptic smell of **** and decay, she twirls around childishly in her birthday suit, oblivious to the cold.

"When you said you wanted to go on an adventure, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Mr. Doe glances at the pile of clothes in the center of the room.

“Baby.” Faye teases him. “What’s wrong? Can’t stand being in the cold?”

“This doesn’t feel right.”

“What doesn’t feel right?”

“This whole idea. I mean these are…were people Faye. Don’t you think it a bit rude to you know…do this right here? Right now?”

“You never struck me as superstitious, Mr. Doe.”

“And you never struck me as being callous, Ms. Morgyn.”

Faye bristles.

“Let’s jump on the exam table and get on with it.”

She guides him to the table, straddling him as she plants kisses on his neck and cheek. She massages his chest, detouring to run her fingers through tufts of pubic hair. Her teacher pulls away.

“I don’t feel comfortable doing this.”

The Goth freezes.

“First the cemetery, and now this? You never cease to amaze me.”

“Unlike you, I have a bit of respect for the dead.”

“Funny, that wasn’t the impression I got when you fucked me.”

Mr. Doe slaps her. She recoils in shock, casting her eyes towards the floor.

“I’m so sorry.” Her teacher catches himself. “I should have stopped myself.”

Faye sobs.

“I don’t want to do this.” She wipes away a tear.

“I’m still hard.” Mr. Doe glances at his manhood. “And horny too.”

“Do you think I’d sleep with you after what you’ve done?”

Mr. Doe caresses her face.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

“I don’t know.” He kisses her forehead. “But I promise I won’t do that again.”

The combination of apology and arousal tears Faye at the core. She doesn’t know whether to feel sorry for tricking him to go along with her or sorry for herself. But she can’t bear not to feel his touch. She gives in to his embrace, surrendering to his touch.

“What are you waiting for?” She whispers. “Put that thing in me.”

She buries her head in his neck, sniffing his cologne as he straddles her. He pulls away as her breaths become shallow.

Faye whines.

“Promise me we won’t do anything like this again.” Mr. Doe’s warm breaths tease her ears.

Faye hesitates.

“But Doe…how will I ever get aroused again?”

“We’ll find something else.” He reassures her. “Now spread your legs. My needle is
aching and I’ve got a burning need to prick you.”

“I’d never thought you’d ask.”

Mr. Doe takes her, glancing at the hands of the clock striking true at midnight.