A breeze blew as I walked to the headstones in the corner of the field. It was a family plot, not a cemetery. Research suggested this place should work.

“When seed is spilled, she will come,” whispered a voice.

I found the grave I wanted and knelt. Quietly chanting, I pulled out my cock. It was already hard.

My climax was intense, but unsatisfying. Satisfaction would come later. I glanced at the puddle of cum, then zipped and left.

“When seed is spilled, she will come.”

That night, there was a knock on my door. Cock stiffening, I answered.