A Source of Warmth

His name was Thomas Saniuqa.

They’d just wheeled him in on a bed at 4.50pm. Damn it, that means I’m working overtime on my own AGAIN. I grumbled as I looked at his profile on the clipboard. Hmm, thirty-five years old and still unmarried? He was evidently very successful, too – CEO of a fairly large IT company I’d heard about. I had to wonder what was going to happen to the company without him.

I glanced down at him. He was lean and athletic, with his handsomely pale skin contrasted against his dark brown hair. Now he looked even paler here in the mortuary.

Aneurysms were always unexpected, always a shame. He’d died too soon. What was that quote? ”Only the good die young”? I proceeded to disrobe Thomas, to prepare him for refrigeration. He’ll be sent somewhere else for burial tomorrow.

As I removed the hospital gown from his body, I couldn’t help but notice his sculpted physique and handsome face. What a shame. I stroked his cheek and – being curious – gently lifted his eyelids open. Glassy emerald eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing.

Nobody was watching, so the urge grew until I could restrain myself no longer, and kissed the man on his cold, dry lips. God, how would it have felt to give him a French kiss while he was still alive? But it doesn’t matter, he’s mine for now. I took a piece of cloth and gently wiped his face, stroking down his neck and across his shoulders and down his arms, enjoying every moment of contact. I kissed him on the neck – I could still smell his scent. He smelled good. I dipped the cloth in the bucket of water again, squeezed it dry, and started wiping his chest, moving slowly down his abdomen to his hips.

His trimmed pubic hair indicated that he had cared about being well-presented in the bedroom, which was always a turn-on.

I cleaned his legs gently, then slowly flipped him over. His shoulders looked broader from this angle. His buttocks were very firm and muscular, which complemented his thighs. I rubbed his back slowly, gradually moving downward to his buttocks as I bent down to be closer to him. I wanted so badly to spoon him right then, to spoon him and knead him in all the right places.

It had been two hours since time of death, rigor mortis would be setting in soon, probably less than ten hours. I wanted this man before he would be taken away from me forever. I liked to believe that the dead could still feel, somewhere deep down inside on a spiritual level.

Determined, I propped up Thomas’s penis and held it in place with some clever manipulation of rods and a long piece of string. Being careful not to knock him, I then transferred him into one of the refrigerators to lightly chill him. I turned off the lights, ready to come back at midnight to give Thomas his last night of pleasure.

***

The hospital was less busy towards 1am, but still filled with people in the emergency department, which I had to walk through.

I stopped by at reception, pretending that I had lost my key, and was given the spare to use for the night with little comment. Now only I had access to the morgue tonight, and I gleefully unlocked the door and entered, before closing the door and locking it carefully behind me.

This was it. Thomas and I could now have some time alone.

I took his gurney out of the refrigerator and pushed him to one of the beds. He was very cold to the touch, the icy flesh sending electric shivers down my spine.