Death Erection

This story is for the 2017 April Fool's contest. They asked for something with a surprise, deception or a trick ending. Check. Check. Check. Oh, and sex too. Check. Enjoy!

Post-mortem erections (erections after you are dead) really happen. Wikipedia says it occurs in one third of men who are hanged. It can also happen to men who are killed quickly and violently if positioned in certain ways. Google pictures at your peril! (Seriously. The pictures are macabre, grotesque and haunting. They are not for the squeamish and it isn't necessary that you see them to understand the story.)

^^^

The limo pulled up to the front door of the grand Clarke residence. Mary Lenore waited for the chauffeur to open her door. Then she exited stepping out on the cobblestone driveway.

She straightened the skirt of her expensive coral and salmon tweed suit. It was from Chanel, a fashion house, she adored. It was her favorite outfit. She loved the colors and the cropped jacket that came with it. She wore it well. She was tall and thin in the waist and hips like a fashion model. However, her bust was nothing like Kate Moss's petite boobies. She had a rack that any stripper would've been proud to display.

"Thank you," she said in a distracted manner to the driver.

She had a lot more on her mind than to remember to be polite to the help. This was the first time she'd been invited to the great estate since her mother had died five years ago. She had been a rare visitor for the five years before that. Ostensibly, she was in college for those years and only returned for big family holidays, like Thanksgiving and Christmas. The truth was, her wealthy stepfather had exiled her because he was fed up with her bratty behavior.

Mary tilted her head back and looked left and right just as she did when she was twelve and she first saw this massive house. That was sixteen years ago. Back then, she was angry, very angry. She was upset that her parents had gotten a divorce and outraged that her mother had re-married. She was not looking forward to living with her new step-father even in this fabulous house. She loved and missed her dad.

Today, the twenty-eight-year-old was not in awe. Nothing impressed her anymore. She was used to the best of everything. She'd been a spoiled, rich kid for sixteen years. After the death of her mother her step-father, David Clarke, had continued her allowance out of respect for his beloved wife.

The door of the grand house opened. A distinguished looking, middle-age man in a black suit stepped her way and said, "Miss Lenore, I am Lester Hills. Your father's attorney."

"Stepfather," Mary said testily.

"Yes. As I explained on the phone, you are a beneficiary in his will."

She interrupted him again. "Aren't I his only living heir?"

"Yes. Mr. Clarke had no children or siblings. He has no living relatives. Please come into the house and I will fill you in on the aspects of his will that pertain to you."

The two went inside. Mr. Hills went into the library. Mary followed. They sat in wing chairs near the ornate fireplace.

Mary showed her crassness by asking, "How much do I get?"

Mr. Hills sighed heavily. He was disappointed by her behavior. He had worked for David Clarke for many years. He liked and respected him. Mr. Clarke was a self-made man, just a high school graduate, who had made a fortune. Many people do that, what was so impressive, was that in addition to being a successful businessman, he was a good and decent person.

Mr. Clarke was a kind and generous man who supported dozens of charities. He shared his wealth with his employees and the citizens of his hometown. Mr. Hills was disturbed by Mary's attitude and behavior. He tried not to show it.

In a professional manner, he answered her question. "Miss Lenore, in your stepfather's will your inheritance ranges from one dollar to one million dollars."

"What? I don't understand."

"Are you familiar with conditional gifts?"

"No."

"Upon his death, Mr. Clarke's assets transfer into a trust. I am the manager of the trust. The amount of money I am authorized to pay you is determined by your actions."

"He can do that?"

"Yes. The courts have held that conditional gifts are legal. Examples of common conditions are, the trust will pay for a college education or a person can only get their inheritance if they successfully complete drug re-hab. Some uncommon, but still valid conditions are you only get the money if you marry in a certain faith. One person lost his inheritance because he put his mother in a nursing home after the deceased required that his widow be allowed to live out her life in the family home."

"Oh. Okay. So, what's the condition?"

"Actually, there are a couple of tasks you must complete."

"And I walk away with one million dollars?"

"Yes," Mr. Hills said. He stood and handed her a one dollar bill.

"What's this?"

"I told you that you were a beneficiary of Mr. Clarke's most current will. That dollar is yours. If you are amenable, I explain the conditions Mr. Clarke has established. If you meet them all, upon final settlement of David Clarke's will, you will receive one million dollars."

"Great. Let's get started," Mary said eagerly.

Mr. Hills booted up a computer. He turned the screen to face Mary. A video message from her stepfather began to play.

"Hello Mary, if you are watching this video, you have agreed to try and satisfy the conditions of my will and my body is lying in repose in the next room. I will cut to the chase. I loved your mother dearly and I was disappointed in our relationship. I found you to be insufferable. You were mouthy, disrespectful, horribly self-centered, and a pain in my ass.

"You aggravated me at every opportunity and worse, you broke your mother's heart. You blossomed at an early age and you flaunted your physical gifts by dressing provocatively and inappropriately. When I or any man glanced at your cleavage or your legs, you would berate us and accuse us of being perverts. Yet you insisted on wearing tight sweaters, short dresses, and low cut tops.

"Today you will get your comeuppance. Mr. Hills will explain."

The video ended. Mr. Hills closed that file. Mary looked at him expectantly.

He said, "Are you familiar with the term "Angel Lust"?"

"No."

"How about "Terminal Erection" or "Death Erection"?"

"No." She gave him a blank look.

"All these terms refer to a post-mortem erection."

"Are you saying that a guy can have an erection after he's dead?"

"Yes."

"No way," Mary said. She didn't believe him.

Mr. Hills opened a file on the computer. A slide show began. It showed photos of dead men with erections.

"No way!" Mary repeated. She stared at the screen. What she saw was a grotesque curiosity beyond anything one might see at a circus freak show. It was macabre, disgusting, disturbing and yet fascinating and mesmerizing.

Mary saw men who were obviously dead sporting huge hard-ons. Some were old photos of men who had been executed by hanging. They still had the rope around their neck. Their heads lolled off to the side at an odd angle because the bones in their neck had been broken. Someone had removed their pants and photographed them with their genitals exposed. They had big, stiff erections.

Mary giggled. Some of the men had huge erections. She said in her mind, "I wished I'd met him while he was alive. We could have had some fun".

The computer scrolled through a dozen pictures. Mr. Hills said, "This phenomenon has been witnessed for centuries. It is not a sexual reaction. It has to do with how and in what position a man is in when he dies. When the heart stops pumping, gravity causes the blood to settle. If a man is vertical, the blood goes to his lower extremities. Once the legs are full of blood, it flows into the penis. If there is more blood, if goes to the abdomen and so forth. I don't have the medical background to explain it better, but as you can see it is real."

Mr. Hills turned off the computer and walked over to a desk. There was a suitcase on it. He opened it. Mary saw it was full of money.

"Wow!" she gushed.

She loved money. She went to it. Her eyes were as big as saucers and she ran her hands over the green bills.

"This is a million dollars. The amount I'm authorized by Mr. Clarke's current will to give you if you complete your assigned task after his death."

Mary looked at him intently. "What do I have to do?" she asked. Her heart was racing.

"Apparently, your relationship with your stepfather was a strained."

She laughed and said, "That's putting it mildly. I was a brat, a real bitch."

"He felt disrespected and that you went out of your way to titillate him with your mature body and then berate him if he so much as glanced at you."

Mary continued to touch the money. She was giddy imagining all the fun she could have with it. It made her talkative. She said, "Yeah. That was me. The girls..."

She turned towards him, cupped her full breasts and lifted them slightly. Then she continued.

"The girls arrived when I was thirteen. Overnight it seems, they grew into a C cup. I was a full D by sixteen. Of course, I was proud of them and I loved to show them off. I don't know why I hated my stepfather, I guess because when he married my mother it meant there was no possibility of my mom and dad getting back together.

"I was mean, snotty and insolent. I had this game I'd played. I'd dress slutily and when he looked at me, I would accuse him of being a pervert.

"He never touched me or tried to take advantage of me. He never stared or ogled me. It would just be a quick peek to see what outlandish outfit I was wearing that day and to confirm how much of my boobs or legs, I was willing to expose to the world.

"Maybe that's the reason I hated him. He adored my mother and barely gave me a second look."

"I see," Mr. Hills said. The man he knew would never ogle or take advantage of any women, especially not the under-age daughter of the love of his life. For some reason that she could not articulate, Mary had waged war on her step-father.

He continued. "What your step-father never did while he was alive, he is going to do in death."

Mary looked at him hard trying to decipher what he was saying.

"He never saw you nude, he never touched you or had sex with you, correct?"

"Yes," Mary admitted. "I teased the hell out of him and he never did anything inappropriate. That stuck in my craw."

Mr. Hills was silent. Mary looked at him expectantly. When he didn't speak, she said, "So what do I have to do?"

"Just what I said. The body of Mr. Clarke is in the next room. He has been washed thoroughly and warmed to 98 degrees. He is naked and he has an erection.

"To satisfy the conditional gift clause of the will you have to do these things. Go into the room with his body. Strip completely and remain naked until you complete all tasks."

He looked her way. She didn't say no so he continued.

"Mr. Clarke told me you often danced in a provocative manner in his presence. You are to dance in a slutty, suggestive manner to two songs. Then you are to suck my dick until I come. Swallowing is optional. I will prepare your body for intercourse and then you will mount Mr. Clarke and fuck him with gusto for ten minutes.

"If I feel you have completed these tasks in good faith, one million dollars is yours when his estate is settled. If you give a half ass effort or stop short of full intercourse with your step-father, then you don't get the money."

"What makes you think I'm going to suck your cock?" she asked pissed.

"I, like millions of other people, have seen your sex tape. The one where you're at a party and you invited a group of men to show you their cocks. As I recall, you sucked six cocks that night."

"Yeah," she said and grinned. She wasn't embarrassed by her actions or that the whole world knew. She added, "I'd drunk a lot of Cristal that night."

"There is a bottle on ice next door. Are you in or out?" Mr. Hills asked her flat out.

"Wait a minute. I can understand Pop's request. I was mean to him, but I've never done anything to you. How do you rate a BJ?"

"If you knew your father, pardon me, your stepfather better, you would know that one of the reasons he was a successful businessman was that he made sure everyone made out on a deal. I didn't go to Harvard law school to watch tart's like you shake your pom-pom's and fuck a corpse. Since I have to witness and sign off on this unusual event, David is throwing me a bone so to speak. He gets his revenge. You get the money. I get a blowjob."

That made sense to Mary. She answered his earlier question.

"For a million dollars, I'm in."

"Then follow me."

Mr. Hills led her to David Clarke's study. There was a bed in the room where a desk usually was located. A white sheet covered what look to be a body lying on the bed.

"This is creepy," Mary said. "Is that David under the sheet?"

"Yes," Mr. Hills answered. "I'll pour us both a glass of Cristal while you undress."

The bottle made a loud popping sound as Mr. Hills removed the cork. He poured two glasses and turned to watch the shapely, young woman. Mary carefully removed her stylish clothes. This outfit had cost her four grand. She was down to her garter belt, stockings, panties, and bra. The bra appeared to be under tension as if the job of corralling her impressive rack was difficult.

She sat and pulled on the stays of her garter belt and undid the clips. Then she gently rolled the nylons down her legs. It was an erotic sight to see her remove her stocking. Mr. Hills got hard. He said to himself, "She has a great body. This is going to be fun".

Mary stood and said, "Where's my champagne?"

He held out a glass and the twenty-eight-year-old woman crossed the room wearing a matching set of sexy, expensive underwear. She took the drink and downed it in a single quaff.

"Another," she ordered. This one she drank slower.

"Are the songs ready?" Mary asked.

Mr. Hills said, "Yes. You need to get naked."

"All right," she said in an exasperated way like a child who was caught misbehaving. She slipped off her garter belt, undid her bra and set it aside and then shimmied out of her panties.

"Damn," Mr. Hills said. "Those are the best tits I've ever seen. They are so full and round."

Mary smiled. She'd heard it many times before, but it didn't get old. She was proud of her boobs. She plucked at her nipples and successfully encouraged them to rise and form tight brown peaks.

Mr. Hill watched her. Her actions made her perfect tits even better. Then his eyes swept down her body across her flat stomach to a small tuft of brown hair on her lower abdomen. He couldn't see between her legs, but he was 99% sure there was no hair around her labia. He'd promised himself that he'd find out for sure later.

"Emmm," Mr. Hills cleared his throat as he took a moment to refocus his mind. Her fabulous body was quite a distraction. He realized that he needed to get back to business. He went over to the bed and grabbed the sheet.

"I'm going to remove the sheet. His appearance is shocking. You might want to take a moment and prepare yourself."

Mary answered flippantly, "I'm good. Let's get this over with."

Mr. Hills slowly dragged the sheet off his friend. The body of David Clarke lying on his back was slowly revealed. A corpse has a distinctive ashen look and that is what they saw.

Mr. Hills said, "The body is not in rigor mortis, the rigid state bodies go through soon after death. It will feel like normal flesh."

Mary looked over the mottled colored body. He had the waxy, grayish white tint she expected. He also had some deep red-brown stains. She took them to be areas where blood had settled.

Her eyes zeroed in on his cock and she said, "Wow! I finally see what mother saw in him. That's a big cock."

Mr. Hill ignored her impertinent, yet accurate statement. He asked, "Are you ready to dance?"

"Sure," she said. She stretched. She raised her arms above her head. Her breasts hung full and heavy on her chest. Her erect brown nipples pointed straight ahead.

Mr. Hills pushed a button on his iPhone and Motley Crue's "Girls, Girls, Girls" blared from his device.

Mary began to sway to the music. She moved rhythmically. Her eyes were closed. The song ended and the next one booted up, "Cherry Pie".

Her eyes popped open. She frowned and said, "Really? Stripper anthems? I've never been a stripper."

Mr. Hills shrugged and said, "Mr. Clarke said you acted and dressed like one."

She didn't argue because it was true. Mary had been to enough gentleman clubs to have picked up a couple of moves. She shamelessly used them. She put on a very sexy show.

The music stopped and so did Mary. Without a word, Mr. Hills took off his jacket and placed it on the back of a chair. He sat in the chair, removed his shoes and socks. Then he stood and removed his slacks and underwear.

Mary watched his erection bounce into view. She noted it was below average in size and thickness. She thought, "Good. A small prick is easier to suck." She smirked and thought, "This is the first time in my life I was ever thankful that a man had a small cock".

Mary knew what was expected of her. She took charge and said, "Sit."

He sat and spread his legs giving her access to his dick. Mary knelt on the rug at his feet. She grasped his cock and put his stiff member in her mouth. "Thanks for washing, Mr. H," she said to herself.

She had given tons of blowjobs in her life. It was expected on the party scene and she obliged. She viewed it as a fair exchange for good drugs. She went through her repertoire of moves on automatic pilot. She gave him good, but impersonal head.

Mr. Hills couldn't tell. To him, it felt great. What he saw was a hot, young, naked woman sucking his meager cock. He was in heaven. He moaned, "Oh God, that feels good!"

He couldn't imagine this experience being any better. Then he could. Mr. Hills leaned over and fondled Mary's tits. He played with her hard nipples. Mary didn't object. This wasn't her first rodeo. It was a rare day when she exposed her breasts to a man and he didn't touch them. Besides, experience had taught her, it would make him come sooner.

It wasn't long before Mr. Hills cried out, "Oh! Ohhh! OH!"

He came with a ferocity that he hadn't experienced in years. His cock exploded and fired copious amounts of spunk into Mary's mouth. She calmly swallowed over and over again. When he was done, force of habit caused her to clean his shrinking cock. Then she sat back on her heels and waited for him to recover.

Minutes later, a perspiring, out of breath Mr. Hills dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief and said, "Mary, thank you, that was great."

He paused, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Then he said, "So far you have met every condition the will requires of you. You have one task left."

He reached over and grabbed his underwear. He stood and slipped his boxers on covering his now flaccid cock. Then he said, "Let's switch places. You sit in the chair."

They completed the maneuver. He knelt at her feet and placed his hands on her knees. His hands shook and his voice was strained as he said, "Bring your bottom out to the edge of the seat and please spread your knees. Are you wet enough to have sex?"

"No, but it doesn't take my pussy long to get ready."

She spread her legs and showed him her waxed sex. "I knew it! I knew she was bald down there. God! What a beautiful sight," he told himself. He gazed at her with a look of amazement and adoration.

Mary giggled seeing the look on his face. He had the looked of a child at Christmas, struck dumb from viewing all the presents under the tree. She teased him, "Your expression is priceless. It's like you've never seen a pussy before."