Last Rites 
(P-M1f1, H-P, Trag)
An erotic story by Katryna
Last updated 12/17/06 

This adult story is (C) by Katryna. It may be redistributed subject to a few 
provisions but may not be sold or otherwise used for profit and must have this 
heading attached. Please read my legal notice as downloading, redistributing, or 
reading this story signifies your agreement to the terms and conditions outlined 
within it. 

Author's Notes: This story is based (loosely) on a particularly memorable IRC 
roleplay session. Thanks again for that; you know who you are... :) Incidentally, 
this is the first erotic story I wrote. I imagine it shows. 

Sam sighed, watching as the force of the wind turned the pouring rain into a 
jumble of streaks and lines vaguely reminiscent of TV static, causing the 
taillights of the bitch ahead of him to blur and shimmer. He glared at the back 
of her Taurus through the windshield and the storm, wishing the road wasn?t so 
goddamn windy. As it was, there was no way in hell he was getting around her 
without risking getting wiped out by a semi coming around the next curve. Or 
worse, a cop. 

He wouldn?t have complained ordinarily; even with her driving twenty miles per 
hour under the speed limit he wasn?t in much danger of being late anywhere. It 
was about 2:30 in the morning, and after an hour and a half of tossing and 
turning he?d decided to try going for a drive, the way he often did to treat 
insomnia. Being a rather cautious driver himself, he didn?t object much to 
people driving at lower speeds, within reason. 

But it wasn?t her speed so much as the way she was weaving around in the lane 
that bothered him. He?d been driving a little slower than usual when it had 
begun to rain, listening to his usual oldies station. As the storm got worse, he 
sped up a bit, hoping to get home and out of it as soon as possible. He?d 
enjoyed watching the landscape illuminated by the massive electrical discharge 
between cloud and earth, but the storm had begun interfering with his radio 
reception. He?d reached down to fiddle with it, and looked up a few seconds 
later as he came out of a curve, just in time to slam on the brakes, teeth 
clenched and eyes widening, and missing rear-ending her by a matter of inches. 
He caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror; she looked pretty...and pretty 
out of it. Her car was wobbling severely in the lane, confirming that she was, 
indeed, most likely intoxicated. He?d tried to call the highway patrol, but his 
cell phone was working about as well as his radio. 

So here he was, behind her, wondering when the hell he was going to have a 
chance to pass her. He wondered idly what she was doing out here anyway. 
Probably got sloshed and decided to go for a drive. Of course. But why out here? 
Stressed out by life, perhaps. Nasty breakup? Work issues? 

He sighed and shook his head. "What is it with some people? I swear, it?s like 
whenever they have some little problem..." The road curved sharply ahead, past a 
few scraggly bushes and a gnarled, overgrown deciduous tree that might have been 
an oak or an extraterrestrial species. "...they just wind up going..." Her car 
entered the curve, too fast. "...and getting..." She began to slip on the 
soaking pavement, her front wheels, then the whole car, diving off the road. "...smashed." 

He watched in horror, eyes widening, slamming on the brakes and squealing to a 
halt beside the road as her hood crumpled and her body slammed against the wheel. 
Steam rose in wisps from the engine compartment, and perhaps a bit of smoke as 
well. He quickly hopped out of the car and half-scrambled, half-slipped down the 
low embankment of the road surface, the muddy ground sucking at his tennis shoes 
as he crossed the twenty-odd feet of ground to the remains of her car. 

He paused, smacked his forehead, and whipped out his cell phone. "No Signal." "Godfuckingdamnit" 
he muttered, then stepped up to the car and looked through the cracked window. 
The girl was lying slumped back in the seat, evidently having bounced off the 
wheel on impact. He couldn?t tell if she was breathing, but he could see red 
spots already starting to form on her white t-shirt. 

"If she?s bleeding, she must be alive," he muttered, swallowed hard, then pulled 
on the door as he squeezed the latch. The door seemed to have been slightly 
deformed by the impact, and he had to wrench hard to open it. 

He bent over the seat and examined her, water dribbling from his black, matted-down 
hair and his clothes onto the floor of the car. The wind was blowing towards the 
opposite side of the car, fortunately, so it wasn?t getting on her directly. Her 
eyes were closed, slowly, dreamily opening, staring down at her shattered body, 
uncomprehendingly at first. 

He followed her gaze. He could see several bruises and cuts on her body, but the 
main injuries seemed to have occurred when her torso hit the wheel. He suspected 
most of her ribs were broken, and there was a decent chance some fragments had 
been driven into her lungs. She coughed, wincing in pain at it; he didn?t see 
any blood. One leg of her blue jeans was soaked red, however, and twisted such 
that it was obviously broken, probably in several places. Compound fracture. It 
had only been about thirty seconds since the accident, but the blood had already 
soaked her socks?probably white once?and her sneakers; she was losing blood 
pretty fast. She didn?t seem to be going into shock just yet, but likely would 
soon enough. 

He took a good look at her for the first time. Her skin was almost ashen, 
obviously pale even before the accident. Her eyes were a sort of cold, unearthly 
blue, and her hair a sort of coppery red-brown, reaching a ways below her 
shoulders; hard to tell the exact length since her back was pressing on most of 
it. Her breasts were full and round, even after being pounded into the steering 
wheel, but her body was sort of slender, making her look several years younger 
than she?d have to be to be driving and drinking. Then again, she could have 
stolen the booze from? 

"Help..." She murmured, then coughed again, and this time her lips flecked with 
blood. She?d definitely punctured a lung or two, and although they didn?t seem 
to be filling too fast, he knew that eventually, if she didn?t die from shock, 
she?d drown in her own blood. 

"I?m sorry...I don?t know...I can?t save you. Your lungs are..." 

"I....know..." She was obviously struggling to speak, and it seemed to be quite 
painful for her. Her speech was a little slurred, but she seemed lucid enough. 

"What do you want me to do?" 

"I?m...dying...?" She swallowed hard, looking up at him, her eyes strangely calm. 

"Yes. I?m sorry, I..." 

"Ease...it..." She looked up at him, pleadingly, and he felt a vice close around 
his heart. 

"What?" 

"Need...you..." She reached up slowly, her hands resting on his back, pulling 
him feebly towards her, lifting her head, with great effort, enough to kiss him 
weakly. 

Her lips were cool, but he felt himself warming a bit at the contact. He felt 
her breasts pressing softly against him, felt a bit of the widening bloodstains 
on her shirt soaking through to his own shirt. He stirred a bit, swallowing hard 
as he kissed her back, softly, looking into her eyes and tasting a hint of her 
blood. Even in such circumstances, the feel of her soft, warm body against his 
was having an effect on him. 

He broke the kiss after about twenty seconds. "You...you want this?" He pressed 
himself against her, moving his hips gently, raising an eyebrow. 

She nodded slowly, smiled weakly. "Please..." She whispered. 

He looked at her for a moment, realized they were losing time, and nodded, 
slowly. He kissed her deeply then, and she responded, caressing him feebly. He 
pressed himself to her, feeling himself hardening against her stomach. She 
whimpered softly; he couldn?t tell whether in pain or arousal. 

He gently caressed her body, avoiding the apparently injured spots, working his 
way quickly downward. He lifted himself and her t-shirt, enough to stroke her 
stomach softly, before quickly unbuttoning her pants. He unzipped them, noticing 
that the blood from her chest wounds had obviously been dribbling downwards, 
bloodstains forming over her mound. She tried to lift herself, but she didn?t 
have the strength. He reached down, worming his fingers under her butt, sort of 
massaging her, watching her face as she seemed to smile and wince at once, 
before he grasped her waistband and pulled down firmly. Her pants and panties 
slide out from under her butt, and she clenched her teeth from the pain of his 
momentary rough handling. 

"Sorry. We don?t have much time..." 

"S?ok..." She gasped. She?d turned at least a shade whiter, and a pool of her 
blood was forming on the floor. Quickly, he slid her pants down to her knees, 
and she eases her panties down to join them, baring herself. Her smooth lips 
seemed to glisten in the white-amber glow of the car?s internal lights. There 
were streaks and traces, even droplets, of crimson on her mound and between her 
legs, but as his fingertips gently traced her, he could tell that she was damper 
and warmer than blood alone would account for. 

She weakly grasped his waistband, struggling with the button of his jeans. He 
reached down and undid it for her, while she unzipped him, caressing the growing 
bulge in his jeans. She smiled warmly up at him, still almost unnervingly calm. 
He fumbled with his pants, pulling himself free. She licked her lips feebly, 
looking down at him, stroking him softly with her fingertips. 

"So cold..." She wheezed. "Need...now..." 

He nodded, lowering himself onto her, kissing her softly, feeling himself 
pressing against her warmth. Slowly he pushed forward, sliding into her, hearing 
her sigh softly. Her skin was deathly white, and on most of her body cool to the 
touch, and her lips were almost icy, but she closed warmly around him. He could 
feel her squeezing him with what strength she had left as she hugged him loosely. 
He could feel her breathing and her heartbeat against him, both slowed 
considerably. He shivered a bit himself, feeling her trying to move against him. 
He felt himself sink into her, coming to rest against her body, and held still 
for a second, gazing into her eyes. 

Slowly he began to move, feeling her tensing a bit around him. He angled himself 
to rub against her clitoris as he thrust deeply into her. She sucked gently at 
his tongue, and he could feel her starting to tense around him as he continued 
to press into her. He caressed her hair and shoulders softly with his fingertips, 
and she purred softly, whimpering as she hugged him tighter, still weakly. 

He felt her tensing further, throbbing gently around him, feeling himself 
starting to boil. He pushed hard, speeding up his thrusting, trying to climax 
along with her. She held him to her and pulled back a little, looking deeply 
into his eyes and smiling softy as she went rigid, eyes slowly closing as she 
throbbed faintly around him. He felt her coming around him, her body tensing 
with what remained of her strength, and pushed himself deeply into her, 
shuddering for a moment, almost willing himself to burst. Waves of pleasure 
rippled through him as he felt himself spewing into her. She sighed contentedly 
and held him, still throbbing weakly as her own climax wound down. 

He held her close, feeling her breathing faintly, her heart beating weakly every 
few seconds, the intervals lengthening rapidly. He held her close as she 
breathed in and out, her chest expanding less with each breath. He felt her 
inhaling, her chest barely moving, then she exhaled with a gentle sigh. He felt 
her heart beating almost imperceptibly as she lay still against him, then it, 
too, stopped. He lifted himself slightly and watched as her eyes slowly opened, 
staring up unfocused. He kissed her icy lips again without response. She was 
gone. 

He lay against her, inside her, silently for a few more minutes, feeling her 
start to cool around him before he pulled himself slowly out of her. He stroked 
her cheek gently. "Rest in peace, dear." He whispered softly, then carefully 
pulled up her pants and underwear and zipped them for her, kissed her softly 
once more. It was obviously an accidental death, so he knew the forensics people 
wouldn?t be paying much attention to the site. When the authorities arrived they?d 
assume she?d been with someone before she went for her last drive. "Just as well," 
He muttered. He knew most people wouldn?t understand, that they?d insist on 
force-fitting their first and final gift to each other in terms of him "taking 
advantage" of her. 

He paused, looking down at her. "Who are you, anyway?" He mused aloud. She didn?t 
seem to have much to say on the subject. He spotted her purse lying on the seat 
next to her and gently opened it, removing her driver?s license. "Diane Marsh," 
He read aloud. She was 17. He wondered what had brought her to that road, with 
that blood alcohol content, on that night. There was a phone number listed, but 
he decided against calling her parents. 

He kissed her forehead softly, brushed her cheek again before closing the car 
door. He hurried back to his car, rain pouring down, thoroughly soaking his 
clothing and half-erasing the bloodstains on it. He unlocked the door, hopped in, 
started the engine, and left. Looking at the sky, he saw that the electrical 
disturbance had mostly died down, and when he pulled out his cell phone he found 
he had half-decent reception. He put in a call to 911, describing the accident. 
"White Ford Taurus, year unknown. Apparent low-speed collision with a tree. One 
fatality. Driver may have been intoxicated and does not appear to have been 
wearing her seatbelt. First Aid not attempted, driver was dead when I arrived." 
He described the location to the operator, then drove home in silence, deep in 
thought. 

A few days later, he found her obituary in the paper, with an address listing 
for her funeral. He took the day off work to attend. The church was packed with 
her friends and family. Her brother and several of her friends spoke, praising 
her generosity and courage, her brother expressing remorse over his harshness in 
judging some of her lifestyle choices. Sam spent most of it choking back tears. 

At the burial, he wound up standing next to an exhausted-looking middle-aged 
woman. Making an effort to be social, she turned to him and smiled grimly. "I 
don?t believe I?ve met you before," She said, then paused. "I hope I don?t sound 
harsh. I...I don?t..." She trailed off, biting back tears. 

"Don?t worry, ma?am, you don?t." 

She nodded. "Well, I am a bit curious, that?s all. How did you know my daughter?" 

His eyes widened slightly. He hoped his surprise didn?t show. "I didn?t. I was 
the one who stumbled on the crash site and called 911." 

She nodded slowly. "She was dead when you got there...?" She asked, searching 
his face for answers. Had he tried to save her? 

"Yes. I wish I could have saved her, but..." He sighed, paused, choosing his 
words carefully. "I did what I could for her." 

She hugged him, a tear dribbling down her cheek. He returned it dazedly, 
surprised. "Thank you," She whispered. 