I would describe Samantha as being a bit strange, but that would be far and away too much of an understatement. Actually, she is A LOT strange, even for one of my lady friends. Sam is a very sexy young widow, whose much older husband died, extremely happy, from a massive heart attack during some wild sex with her. I haven't done that yet, and I sort of hope I never do but, if I had to choose the way I wanted to go, the way he went would certainly be on the short list. She is thirty years old and, besides her voluptuous body, has a pretty face, with very fair skin and green eyes, topped off with soft, curly red hair. If my last act in this world were to be fucking her, I am quite sure I would die as happy as her husband did.
The latest off the wall thing she got me to do was go with her to the cemetery on the first anniversary of her husband's death so we could make love on his grave. I always do what my lady friends ask, within reason, and I considered this to be just barely inside those rather nebulous boundaries. I won't do it next year, even if she asks, which is extremely unlikely. The fact that her husband died on Halloween didn't make the idea any more appealing, even though I am not superstitious, because I still felt edgy about being in a cemetery on that particular night. Samantha thought my reluctance was just being silly, and accused me of believing in ghosts.
I have always believed there is some kind of spirit or life force that leaves the body at death but, until that night, I did not believe in inimical ghosts, or that those spirits had any solidity. Besides that, Samantha's accusation goaded me just enough to agree to do something I didn't really feel like doing. I have had sex in some unusual places but, on top of a lady friend's late husband's grave on Halloween night would be a first time for me. The last time, too.
So, it came to pass that, at eleven o'clock on the night of October 31, I drove just outside of town to the cemetery where Samantha's husband was pushing up daisies. The sidewalk leading inside was open, but the driveway was blocked by a very solid ornamental gate. I could have driven through the barrier but, not wanting to add vandalism to trespassing and whatever other laws we would be breaking, I parked down the road from the grounds and we walked back and entered.
Sam carried a comforter and pillow - the same ones as had been on their bed the night her husband died, of course, and I held the flashlight to guide us to our specific destination. She had been there earlier that week, just to make sure she could find the grave at night, which was a good thing, because the place was totally dark. I had never thought much about it, but I realized that made sense. Nobody in their right mind goes to a cemetery at night, so no lights would be provided. Besides the lack of any kind of artificial illumination, it happened to be a cloudy night, so the moon and stars were no help either.
I have never hung out in cemeteries, but I have attended funerals occasionally, and have never thought of them as being creepy places. However, until that Halloween, I had never been in one during the night, when it was completely dark, and so quiet that I could hear the chirping of crickets and the few remaining leaves rustling softly in the light breeze. Partly because of the cloud cover, it was an unusually warm night for that late in October, but I could still feel goose bumps all over my body, and all my senses felt as if they were unnaturally sharpened. Samantha guided me to a spot under a tree, and asked me to shine the light on a small headstone.
Wanting to make sure we were in the right place, she got down on her knees to read the name and other description engraved on the brass plate that was screwed to the small block of marble "This is the place," she informed me, looking up from where she was kneeling. From Sam's voice, she sounded excited, as if really turned on by the thought of what we were about to do. I must admit, I was somewhat turned on too, but it was by the thought of making love with Samantha, not by the location or the date.
After she made sure we were in the right place, I helped Samantha back to her feet, and she spread the comforter on top of the grave. I don't give the subject much thought but, whenever it comes to mind for whatever reason, I always picture a grave as being an upright rectangular marker at one end of a long mound of fresh dirt. Except for the size of the marker, that might be how a fresh grave would look but, after a year of wind and rain and grass growing and being mowed and growing again, the site was flat, If you ignored the headstone, her husband's grave was completely indistinguishable from the surrounding turf.
Actually, it was a rather nice place to be buried, under a tree that would provide shade on hot days and some protection from rain. The downside with the location that night, for me at least, was that the tree's branches also blocked any light that might have otherwise filtered through the clouds, and it was even darker there than in most of the rest of the cemetery.
"Okay, Del," Samantha started saying, apparently to her late husband, who was lying under our feet. "I know how much you enjoyed swinging, and your favorite part was seeing me having a great time getting my pussy eaten or being fucked by some other dude. I told you I would do this for you, but tonight is the only time I'm going to do it." Having notified her dead husband of her intentions, Sam turned to me, smiled, and started stripping off her clothing.
I was holding the light on her and, as soon as she started, I was reminded of my other reason, besides making an accommodation for a lady friend, for being willing to accompany Samantha on the night's escapade. She was wearing a long-sleeved blouse, and nothing under it. After she placed her garment on top of the comforter and faced me, I admired the provocative jut of her breasts and, after her jeans had also been stripped down and off, I admired all of her voluptuous body. Sam hadn't been wearing any panties either, and she lay down on the comforter, spread her legs and raised her arms, offering herself to me.
Despite the eerie location, it was an offer I could not refuse. With no hesitation, I shucked off my own shirt, turned off the light and lay down beside her. After putting the flashlight where I was sure I could find it again, I cupped my hand under one of Samantha's luscious breasts and started licking her nipple. Even though I couldn't see anything, I knew where all the parts were on her body, especially the most interesting ones. A very sensuous woman, Sam immediately expressed her pleasure from what I was doing, and cooed even more loudly when she felt me switch my attentions to the other lovely globe.
For several immensely enjoyable minutes, I licked her adorable nubbins, feeling them growing erect from my ministrations, and feeling her upper body start to squirm under me. The crickets and the wind in the tree branches above us were soothing, and I almost forgot where we were. My mouth did not forget where it was, and I opened it wide to draw one of Samantha's luscious breasts inside. While my lips formed a seal, I sucked on the delightful flesh, and my tongue continued caressing her nipple and areola. Once again, I alternated between the gorgeous twins, while the movements of Sam's body under me became more strenuous. She writhed so much in her delight that she thrust a breast up into my mouth every time I opened it and moved from one to the other.
