Perverts 'R' Us

Devotion

By Danyealle ( M/F, rom )

Standing in front of the mirror, he checked to make sure everything was in place and just right. While he smiled at his reflection, he took a quick inventory to ensure he had everything he needed for the night. Tonight was special to him and he didn't want to forget anything. As it drew closer to the appointed time, butterflies churned in his stomach in a nervous anticipation. He felt like a teenager who was preparing for a date with someone they had a crush on. At 9pm, a case of euphoria spread throughout his body. After one more quick double-check of things, he grabbed the bouquet of roses, and then left.

Stepping through the iron gates, he hurried off to his destination. Because he knew the route well it took only a couple minutes to find it. Standing there, smiling, he said, "I'm here, Lizzy."

At first there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, everything appeared to be normal. However, a few minutes later the grass by his feet began to rustle as though there was a breeze. Then the headstone seemed to light up with a strange, phosphorescent glow. Slowly, an eerie, light mist began to rise slowly from the depths of the grave. Unlike most others who had witnessed something like this, he wasn't the least bit frightened.

Slowly the mist started to come together, forming a shape. When it finished a beautiful women was standing there, smiling at him. "I knew you would be, Fritz."

He had first laid eyes on her 40 years ago. At the time he had been making deliveries for a messenger service to earn some extra money while he was in college. She was working as a secretary for a lawyer. When he saw her for the first time he had been awestruck. Never before had he seen anyone so breathtakingly beautiful. Her brown hair, cornflower-blue eyes, thin 5'8" frame and perky, grapefruit sized breasts had been an image he wasn't able to shake for days after he left.

Because her boss started using his messenger service on a regular basis he was able to see her on a regular basis. At first he had been tongue-tied, unable to strike up a conversation with her. Actually, he had been amazed that he could croak out things like hello, goodbye, and thanks. It wasn't until three months later that he had finally screwed up enough courage to ask her out. Bracing himself for a rejection, he had been pleasantly surprised when she had accepted.

From the first date they had both felt the spark between them. Soon afterwards they had become inseparable, spending as much time as could together. After a year of heavy dating he asked her to marry him. She had accepted without hesitation. While they both wanted to do it ASAP they decided to wait until he graduated.

For as long as he lived he would remember the moment she walked down the aisle. Just how beautiful she was in that magnificent dress, her brown hair spilling out from under the veil was a memory he would always cherish. As they said their vows that would make them man and wife, tears of pure joy had filled his eyes. When he lifted the veil, he could see the tears in her cornflower-blue eyes as well.

Like so many others, they had both been bashful and nervous on the first night of their honeymoon. He hadn't been a virgin, but he wasn't all that experienced in matters of the flesh. On the other hand, she was a virgin and nervous as hell about what was to come. With a loving tenderness, he had taken things slow. Slowly undressing her, he kissed her tenderly, stroking her bare flesh as it came into view. As he had slowly aroused her she became less shy and responded to him. Once she was undressed, he carried her to the bed then gently laid her down on it. Crawling in beside her, he kissed and stroked her lightly tanned skin gently, letting his hands explore her body for the first time. Those touches made her thin body shiver a bit, goose bumps appearing wherever he touched.

When her breath started to become a bit ragged and soft moans and cries began escaping her, he pulled away and positioned himself between her thighs. Rather than immediately slide himself into her right away he softly caressed her pussy. As she became more aroused, her pussy lips began to part and bead with moisture. Wetting his fingers with it, he slid one finger into her, twisting it around a bit.

Gasping at the intrusion, her whole body shuddered.

Patiently, he slid his finger in and out, twisting it from side to side as he did. As she became more aroused, her tight pussy started to loosen up a bit. Then he slid another finger in and repeated the process. By the time he was able to get three into her she was squirming all over the bed, crying out from pleasure. Withdrawing his fingers, he moved forward a bit then started to thrust his hips a bit, allowing his rock hard cock to rub up and down her slit. Leaning over her, he braced a hand on the bed and resumed the passionate kissing.

While he was nibbling on her bottom lip, he placed the head of his cock at the entrance of her pussy and began to slowly slide it in. Being as distracted as she was, she didn't even notice the intrusion until he started moving. Grabbing her hand, he led it down to her crotch then had her show him, with her hand on his, how he she liked her clit rubbed.

As one would expect, it didn't take long for either of them to come. While they made love a couple more times that night, the intensity of that very first time was something they would both remember.

After their wedding they set out to build a life together. He had found a good, well-paying job then began to build his career. She stayed on as a secretary until he started making a six-figure salary, and then she quit to become a housewife. It was then that she began sculpting, something that would become her passion. The talent and aptitude she displayed in her artwork didn't go unnoticed and it wasn't long before she became famous for it. Despite their workloads and sometimes hectic schedules they always came first. Unlike so many people who take for granted the love of their spouse and settle into complacency, Liz and Fritz made it a point to nurture what they had, always keeping it exciting and fresh. The joined-at-the-hip devotion they had before the wedding continued on throughout their lives.

Shortly after a painting of hers was bought by a world famous museum, Liz had a heart attack and passed away in her sleep. Fritz was devastated. After 40 years of marriage, he was left alone. Realistically, he had always known that eventually one would die before the other, but he had pushed that aside, not able to fathom or imagine what life without her would be like. The first few months after her death were almost unbearable; it was as though he was missing a part of himself. But, like most, eventually he resumed his life.

On the first Valentine's day after her death, he visited her grave; putting the red roses she so loved on it. Standing in the windblown cemetery the raw ache of her loss returned. As tears began to flow that mist rose from the grave and there she stood. Standing there, in shock, he couldn't believe his eyes. It was, indeed, her although made up of a luminescent mist. Finally, it was his soul-mate that had given him comfort. The devotion she had to him in life had carried over as she passed to the next one, honoring the vow she had made to him of eternal love.

As the hour of midnight closed in she had to leave. Because of rules governing the afterlife, she wasn't allowed to come to him more than once a year. They decided that every Valentines Day he would come and she would rise. While it wasn't what they both longed for it was better than nothing. Blowing him a kiss, she then faded back into her grave, leaving him alone once more. For the first time since her death, he felt better. The grief and loss were still there, but faded. Indeed, he still did miss her but he now had something to balance it out.

Walking over to him, she slipped her arm through his then gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. Putting the roses on top of the headstone, he put his hand over hers and smiled. While she wasn't solid like a human, his hand didn't go straight through either. It just felt as though it was resting on a delicate gauze. Then, as they did every year, they started walking through the cemetery, talking the way married couples do, the relaxed, easy conversation that can only come from those who know each other inside and out.