It’s Fall. Lovely crunchy orange, brown and red leaves, clear, cool November evening. We decided to stop the car and go for a stroll. Hand in warm hand, me leaning slightly on your strong muscular shoulders. We pass historic enchanted homes, all warmly lit with dinners glow. The pathway gets dimmer and dimmer as the houses lining the street get more sparse.

We happen upon a cemetery. Halloween is in the past, but the chills remain. Tall, bone white headstones and small dark grey ones poke up from the earth. As morbid as we both are, we don’t dare to even ask each other if this should be explored. Ancient headstones, plastic flowers of remembrance, and small mausoleums holding families of importance.

We continue to walk slowly, hands intertwined, me squeezing gently and tenderly touching fingertips. Your thumb traces the inside of my wrist.

The air is quite chilly now this darkening evening. Our breath is beginning to make small billowy ghosts in the air. We come upon the rows of mausoleums, each one more overgrown and crumbling than the last.

Your fingers tap the inside of palm and my body knows instantly to follow where you want to lead me. You have picked a small, secluded resting house and begin to clear away beautiful dark green ivy that covers the gate. It creaks open like a death screech from a dying cat. You turn to me and offer me both outstretched hands. I greedily accept them and follow you inside.

There is not much light but for a small window at the back of the closet sized death home. The all-seeing moon is bright enough to let us have just enough light to cast mysterious yearning shadows all around. I trace the name plaques along the walls with a tender finger. I can’t make out the names but wouldn’t want to know who these people are regardless.

I feel you behind me, your warmth reaching deep into me and awakening the demons and spirits within. Absolute silence all around us, minus our lustful breathing. You press against my back, running your hands down my arms, clasping my hands and pulling them from the dead people’s names to your face.

I lean my whole body back into you, the smell of decaying leaves and cold evening air mix with your masculine scent making the most intoxicating concoction. The back of my head rests on your chest, my right hand on your smooth neck and left hands clasped around my body, under my breasts. Holding me closely, tightly. Just holding each other for now, in the crypt, under the moonlight. Something so dark and mysterious and sexy as hell in the literal sense.

You begin to place small kisses down my neck. I drop my hands to your thighs, firmly gripping them and sliding them up slowly, moving the pressure and friction closer to your manhood. Your hands find the bottom of my dress and your nails slowly scratch my sides up to my bra. You find the clasps and undo them, freeing me from my fabric enclosure. My dress falls to the dusty dirt floor and I am free.

Your fingers find my nipples and squeeze them seductively. My nipples are more alert than anything in this cemetery… minus your manhood. I place my hands on the wall, signaling my readiness for you while the rough concrete awakens my senses. I part my legs and hear your zipper coming undone from behind me. My entire body quakes to the core in anticipation.

I feel your fingers dance around on my hips, hands like electric on my ass. I can feel your hardness pressing on me, making me drip with passionate moisture. I turn my head slightly back toward you and whisper, “Please Love.”.

And just like that, you enter me, filling me completely in one sweet motion. I gasp, and my body’s automatic response is to push myself back onto you, driving you deep within. I press my hands against the wall and force you to push back with everything you’ve got. Your hands run up and down the length of my spine.

I try so hard to start a steady rhythm, but my legs quake and I drop my head with a sensual sigh to let you know you are the lead, you control the speed. I feel your nails press into my flesh. I moan your name. Please, don’t stop. Tonight, I want you hard, not rushed but with need. The chill of the air touching all our exposed skin.

So much friction and warmth between us. My bare nipples rub against the wall. The rough texture exciting me even more. My body starts to shiver and shake, I know I won’t be able to hold back much longer. This mildly exposed public place and the exciting creepiness of it all only making my fire burn that much brighter and faster.

I let you thrust out of me and take this moment to turn and face you. You stare into my dark grey, desire filled eyes and come in for a kiss. Hard and passionate, my tongue finds yours in an explosion of fire. I bite your lower lip and tug it as I wrap my arms around your neck. You push me against the wall, my ass and back touching that hard concrete. You re-renter me slowly, yet still hard and hot.

My nipples yearn for the rough texture of your shirt against them. Our rhythm is now steady and passionate. I can feel the explosion coming like a freight train. The love wanting to explode out of me like a demon being expelled. It takes all my effort to continue to breathe.

I scream your name to wake the dead as we both explode as we find our sweet release. I find your eyes with mine and take your tongue deep into my mouth. I lick your lips, trying to savor every taste of our beautiful love. I lean back, completely naked, against the wall. This, my ghostly white body in the smoky moonlight, dress lying dead on the floor, blood red lips parted slightly trying to regain my composure; this is how I want you to remember me forever.