The Dead can feel You

Tell No Soul

He started off slow, keeping his movement more careful, afraid to accidently break his little fuck toy. You can't fix a dead man's broken penis after all.
But the more he moved, the more every inch of Sovieys cock rubbed inside him, the more wanting he became.

He leaned forward, no longer hiding into soviets thighs for support, instead placing a hand on the Russians solid chest to keep him upright.
He felt the angle change instantly. His mouth hanging open for a moment as soviets tip pressed closer. Fuck, he needed it. He wanted it-
America used the new angle to his advantage, living himself up, and dropping himself along more of soviets cock, sliding along soviets babymaker at a fluid pace. 
It was manageable. He didn't want manageable. He wanted fast, and rough. He wanted to play out his fantasy, he wanted to cum dammit.

The body groaned out again as America dropped himself more roughly against its hips, but it was hardly heard over America's squeal. He had hit it dead on, the jump start of pleasure spreading like a Shockwave though him.
His legs tightened for a moment,  and his hand clenched at soviets shirt.

"Oh fuck- dammit soviet hit there again-!" He knew the corpse can't move, but fuck, he wished deeply he had fucked soviet when he was alive now.
He slammed himself down again, calling out the corpses name as if he were the one fucking him.
He had no fear if anyone hearing him, he could be as loud as he pleased.
And loud he was.

He brought his free hand to his own neglected penis, wrapping it around his shift. Hiw many times had he jersey off to the thought of fucking the Soviet union? Many, many times. With his eyes closed, it almost all felt real, Soviet fucking him silly.
America riding a Russian man much younger than he was, getting his full of fat cock in his wholehole.
Soviet slamming onto him over, and over again, not stopping untill he himself was finished with the American. At least, that was the stories he had heard, from the bitches soviet had once spent a night with.

He started pumping his cock, biting on his tongue in pleasure.
Shit, he was not going to last much longer at this rate. Not at all.
He slammed himself down on soviet, forcing him in as deep as he would go with a small out cry.
"Fuck! How are you so fucking big-"
He stayed there, Soviet deep inside him, grinding the dead Russians cock deep inside him, rubbing everywhere he needed it to be right at that moment.
America's ragged breathing turned into panting, jacking off as he rolled his hips down onto soviet.
He could feel it, he was so close. Just a little more is all he needed.
"Dirty fucking slav- shit~ m' gunna-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, cutting himself off as he came.
He gasped, arching his back up as he bucked out his climax.
He held onto himself, his hand tightening on his cock as euphoria rocked though his whole system.
He roughly pumped his cock a few more times, squirming on top if soviet as he milked out his whole orgasam, painting soviets cold stomach a pearly white.
"Shhit~ God damn, that was good." He chuckled, staying where he was ontop of soviet for a few moments. He let his body relax, letting his now sore muscles get a break.

After a few moments, he pulled himself off, huffing with the effort that it took to stand up over the dead man. He glanced at soviet. He looked just as ruined as America wanted him to be.
Dried blood still covered half of his face, some bruises decorated his body, and now americas cum was splattered across his stomach. Wonderful.

"Well now commie, I think my time hear is about up. Time to get rid of.. this.."
Did he have to?
Did he have to get rid of soviet?

Was he seriously thinking about keeping his corpse?
Yes. Yes he was. 
He wanted to come back tomorrow,  and do this all again.

He walked over to his clothes, picking them up off the floor and getting cleaned up.
He half asked cleaned soviet up as well, taking a wet tag and whiping off the cum and dried blood as best as he could. He wanted his fuck toy to look pretty after all.
After some struggling, he managed to drag the heavy slav over to the bunkers freezer. He unlocked the heavy door and kicked it open, dragging Soviet inside and sitting him against a wall, next too some frozen pigs. Disgusting.

"Now, don't you go anywhere." He smiled, but quickly straightened his face. Stupid, this was a corpse, of course it can't go anywhere.
He cleared his thoughts and dusted himself off. Yeah, he needed to get out of this place. The bunker was getting to his head.
He locked the freezer behind him after he got out, shutting off all the lights behind him as he left. He didn't want anyone finding his little secret.

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Yeah, I know this is fucked up. So fucking what.

Inspired by oofooftimesthree
Go thank them, and read their stories

Yes there is more to this coming, stay tuned