Dead When We Met

Female Necrophilia!

A girl. Her neighbor. A skull named Frank. What could go wrong?

How could something Mona love cause her so much mental anguish? It wasn't natural. That's what she read. But it felt natural to her. The open arms, the willingness to take her every time. Never any violence, or putting his needs before hers. He would never break her heart. He would never make her feel uncomfortable. He would never reject her as she grew older and faded.

She would run just the tips of her fingers over fine cold bone wrapped in dry papery tissue. Inhaling sharply, a biting tang of chemical death. He wouldn't move, just let her touch him, smell him. There was nothing else like it. Death was its own beast. One foot in this world, and one foot beyond. Nothing got Mona off like straddling that thin black line....