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A sudden jolt like an electric shock jarred me back intoconsciousness, my hand still clamped around the old man’s palm; but now it was still and lifeless. Across the bed the heart monitor registered only a flat green line. Suddenly the warm comforting glow of the room’s night light was replaced by the harsh white light of a medical emergency. Medics seemed to be everywhere; I hear the instruction ‘CLEAR’, then the body on the bed jolted. My own body spasmed as if in sympathy with my old friend. Another ‘CLEAR’, and another jolt for both of us. Then time of death was declared. Pablo had gone. I filed out of that little room with the medics, leaving only the orderlies to attend to the necessaries, and found a vending machine for some warm comforting latté. In a trance I fed the coins in and punched the buttons on the machine; a cup dropped into view. In disbelief I stared into the latté which had metamorphosed into the black syrup that Pablo had loved so much. I drank it in homage to my late departed friend, and subject of my academic work. I had people to tell the sad news to, but it was still 6 am, so another old friend would have to console me. As I drove to Chris’s flat I felt the effects of Pablo’s coffee warm my stomach and burn into my limbs; it burned down my spine turning my bowels to water; then to my horror brought fire into my neglected pussy. How could I think of sex at a time like this? The lights turned against me and I stopped for a moment; without even knowing I found my hand had gone down to scratch my itching crutch. The touch of my fingers made it worse, a moment later I was grinding my knuckles against the taught material of my jeans hoping to satisfy the desire boiling in my clit. Wetness flowed from me soaking the denim; I ground hard, but there was no relief. The lights turned green, I would have to deal with this in Chris’s bathroom and hope be didn’t realise. It was about 6:45 when I pulled into the parking lot under the block he lived in, normally his space was vacant. But today there was a petite blonde with that just fucked look loading laptop, overnight and hand bags into a car. Chris must have got his end away last night; lucky bitch I though. My own crutch started to burn again. I found a visitor’s space and busied myself in the boot as if I was going to deliver something until the blonde had driven off; then I headed for the avcılar escort bayan lift. My buddy took his time answering my repeated bell presses, but he ushered me in with our customary pecks on the cheek and I explained the reason for my visit. He told to sit on sofa while he got us some coffee. Chris came back with a mug of coffee in each hand; as he walked I watched the tip of his penis sway gently against the thin material of his lounge pants. I tried to ignore to thought of a cock inches away from me, but the burning in my fanny had spread out into my stomach and tops of my thighs. My body seemed to be out of my control and my mind didn’t seem to care. “People having differing reactions to grief”, I heard him say and guessed I was about to give me one of his classic psychology lectures on death. All of a sudden, as if controlled by some part of my brain I didn’t know, I dropped to my knees in front of Chris and pulled down his pants. A second later his cock was buried in my mouth. The blonde had left her mark on Chris’s prick; her sticky juices had formed a dried coating on his manhood. In my mouth, my saliva turned it into a musty paste, the smell of her filled my nostrils. I had tasted my own juices out of curiosity once or twice, but this tasted different, yet, strangely familiar. “Liz, for heaven’s sake!” Chris almost screamed. “I know that this is a manifestation of grief, but you need to take control.” “Chris, you have always wanted to fuck me, so now is your chance,” I told him dispassionately. I stood up and walked into his bedroom, stripped naked, and lay naked on the wet patch his blonde had left. Chris, like most men with a stiff prick, he had little will power; soon he was between my legs aiming his erection at my pussy. The weight of his body on mine and the length of stiff muscle imbedded in my fanny seemed to be what my body burned for. I just laid back and enjoyed being fucked in a way I had never done before. Times past I would ask myself was I doing it right, or did I like /love this guy enough? Did he love me? Now I just laid back and was fucked; my only chore was having Chris panting ‘Oh Liz, Oh Liz’ in my ear. Chris’s orgasm took me by surprise; yes the look on his face told me he was about to cum. I’d got to my early thirties and had no resident lover, I took no long term contraceptives and I had always insisted beylikdüzü escort bayan what the few lovers I had used a condom. Now I had welcomed this prick into my body without any barrier between us. When he finally ground his hips into mine and pumped his seed into his second womb of the morning, I was taken by surprise. FUCK! The sensation tore through my body; my muscles contracted around him milking every last drop of semen from him before flooding my passage with their own answer. Again they contracted and this time a flood swept past the shrinking dick between my legs. The damp patch, now warmed by the heat of my buttocks spread further; Chris rolled beside me, his prick was soaked, his balls were soaked, his thighs were soaked. I sat up and watched his watery cum ooze from my gaping pussy. My lust was conquered now, but remorse and embarrassment followed; I leant over the edge of the bed to reclaim my knickers. Beside my own comfortable granny-like cotton panties, a white silk thong lay soiled and discarded. I reach across and retrieved it. The dried juices on narrow crutch a witness to her anticipation and their foreplay the night before. I grabbed them instead and arching my back and slid them up my own thighs and pulled the material up into my sodden crutch. “Hey, their Cathy’s,” Chris protested. “She will get them back,” I lied. I stood up and dressed, then pecking Chris on the cheek left hurriedly. I sat in my car trying to make sense of my emotions; there was the normal Elizabeth, the quiet academic prude. Then there was some zombie Liz whose conscious mind had no control of her actions. Beyond that, some sex addict Liz, that one was the worst. She craved sex, and like all addicts, just waited for the next fix. I felt that stirring in my crutch again and forced my mind to think of my next task, I must tell Pablo’s oldest and dearest friends he was gone. Hector answered the door to me, he was about Pablo’s age, but lacking his friend’s outward zest for life; Hector always looked his age. His eyes told me in an instant he understood my reason for calling so early. I was ushered into the sitting room and offered a seat. Hector slumped into his favourite leather chair; as he did so his dressing gown fell open, his shrunken old manhood lay exposed through the fly of his pyjamas. I had started to tell him the sad news esenyurt escort of the morning; then, unable to stop the zombie Liz, I was on my knees again and his old tool was in my mouth. I rasped my teeth alone the base of his helmet as I had done with Chris and the wizen old flesh began to respond. “Pablo has passed my dear. Liz was with him, holding his hand as he went.” Hector’s voice jarred my senses, I froze, looking up I saw Greta standing beside me. In one hand she held the hem of her night gown up, exposing a thinning bush of white hair capping her mons, below it her labia was plucked clean of pubic hair; a bony finger worked the slit between them as she watched her husband’s adultery. “It’s alright Elizabeth, grief is difficult to deal with and you were as close to Pablo as we were.” She said to comfort me. Zombie Liz moved again and knelt before Greta; my tongue took over from her finger, then replacing it, slid between the mottled lips that had first parted more than sixty years before to accept a lover’s prick. I’d never had sex with a women before; I’d hadn’t had that many men in my life either and I had no idea what she or any women would like it. I had shunned oral sex, giving it or receiving it; now it seemed so natural. I had liked the taste of Chris’ blonde, but I somehow knew and loved the taste of Greta. Inside me some strange love for her boiled and I felt as if I had known her a lifetime. I grazed her clitoris with my teeth the closed my lips around the little nub and sucked it deeper into my mouth; then ravaged it with my tongue. Greta’s hand stroked my hair as she moaned softly, “Yes my dear, that’s right, that’s how I like it. Just a moment longer my dear,” she sang. Then her hand pushed my head deeper into her crutch and she shuddered. “That was wonderful my dear, but if you don’t mind I think Hector still needs your attention. Why don’t you use the arm of the sofa.” Greta said as she sank onto the sofa behind her and smiled at me. The Zombie was in control again; the slut I had become just unclipped my belt and pushed jeans and Cathy’s thong to the floor, then lay along the leather arm rest on their old sofa. I turned to watch Greta take her husband’s semi-stiff prick in her mouth to harden it. Then Hector positioned himself behind me and I felt his old penis enter me. It was shorter than Chris’s, but fatter and as it stretched my vagina I felt my sexual addiction return. I steadied myself for the next male of my species to leave his package of sperm inside my womb and sate my appetite for sex. Hector’s bony fingers gripped my hips and his cold skin bumped my bottom at the end of each stroke.