Your time has come. She offers to spend the entire day with doing whatever you want. How do you spend your last day?

Take me back to a time before my girlfriend left me. And don't watch.

I would spend the day having sex with her.

This, after/during an argument about whether I did anything to deserve her attention like this.

>Just got back home from your walk. Legs were starting to seize up and you had that weird feeling in your shoulderblades again, like a clogged tube in a sewage drain. Walking helps, but not enough. You really should lay off the long computer sessions. sitting in one place all day cannot be doing your health any favors...
>Lingering smell of burnt toast... that's weird, you didn't leave the toaster on when you left...
>There's a girl in your living room
>There's a girl in your living room
>There's a GIRL in your living room and she's got coal black hair and complexion that would hame a geisha into commiting sudoku and THERE'S A GIRL IN YOUR LIVING ROOM AND SHE'S THE MOST FUCKING BEAUTIFU-
>Okay, wait up, priorities first. You locked the door when you left, and there were no signs of forced entry, windows were shut ecause you despise fresh air in your sterile haven, maybe check windows for broken glass... no, none there...
>Alright, cursory Sherlocking reveals your mystery cat burglar somehow entered your fairly secure home without leaving any physical trace. Like she just snuck in behind you as you walked out the door. She's kind of goth looking, but no needle marks on her arm or obvious signs of substance abuse, so she isn't here to steal your shit for petty cash. Made herself pretty comfy on your couch too. Why the hell did she go to so much trouble to break into YOUR house of all places, of all reasons...
>"Hi there user."

24 hours full of sex and love, and hugs, and tears

>OH SHIT HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN LOOKING AT HER?
>DID YOU DO THAT AUTISTIC THING WHERE YOU SPACE OUT LOOKING AT SOMEONE LIKE A FUCKING SERIAL KILLER UNTIL THEY TELL YOU TO STOP?
>FUCK SHIT CUNTS NOW THE CUTE CAT BURGLAR'S NEVER GONNA STEAL FROM YOU AGAIN, SHE'S GONNA TELL ALL HER THIEF FRIENDS YOU'RE A CREEP AND YOU'LL BE A LAUGHING STOCK OF THE BURGLARY VICTIM COMMUNITY
>All right, cool it. You can still salvage this train wreck. Let's start talking
>Let's take her appearance in properly this time. Petite girl, somewhere between nineten and spritely, to twenty-nine and ripened. Skin's nearly chalk white, hard to say whether it's actual make up or genuine. Is partial albinism a thing? Minimal makeup, jut some curled stuff on her lashes and black lipstick.
>Eyes are... kind of black too. Not like cartoon black marbles, but sort of inky black, like the blackest shade of blue there ever was. Little curl in the outer corner of her right eye, tattoo perhaps? No other visible markings Nails are grow out, black nail polish. Everything's black with this chick; she got the memo about it going with everything, and decided to take that to it's logical extent. She makes it work though, I'll give her that. Most goths or emos you've seen before went overboard on the extrenuous crap and gravedigge trappings, but she keeps it nice and simple.
>She actually has the figure for black too, most goth girls you knew looked like bustled pumpkins swaddled in lace and chains, with whitewahed clowns faces and plumpened lips. All the counter-culture in the world couldn't prevent you from accidentally calling them old granny names like Dororthy or Agnes when their given names was Mercy Darkholme, you just culdn't help yourself
>Not this lady. She's the real deal. Classiest goth you've ever seen. If others were copying the textbook, she wrote the original sources and hand lettered the original folio

Crying

>No jewelry save a silver ankh necklace round her neck. Small little slip, not much over 5'3, with her lanky little arms. Hips are pretty standard, pert breasts carry on the small and petite motif. Can't make out the ass from her sitting on your sofa. Hair down to her shoulders, purest raven black like that Indian girl you had a crush on in elementary school
>Laughing eyes, a thin mouth that seems ready to burst into a wry smile at any moment, cute widdle button nose, and her ears...
>...
>Errr, well, nobody's perfect.
>You're a man who takes pride in appreciating women of numerous types, shapes, sizes and flavours. As far as this one goes, she's an easy 9/10 in her field, if not a 10. She's like the embodiment of that manic pixie dream girl archetype; not the Zooey Deschanel kind, the kind that goes to art college, does performance theatre and listens to alternative 90's punk on vinyl
>She's lovely. So what the hell is she doing unbidden in your house? She's drop dead gorgeous, but a little manners wouldn't go amiss
>"You want some Pizza?"
>Oh crap she's talking again. Also, how'd she know your name? What gives here? What isn't she telling you? Better respond back with something probing and witty to regain lost ground
>W-what?
>"Pizza. You want any? I just put the order through, it'll be arriving any minute now."
>"... nu-h..."
>"Huh?"
>"NO, n-no thank y-you please. Actually."
>Wow. Very fucking erudite. Really put the fear of God into her, you spaghetti spooling clod
>"Suit yourself then. I'm not sharing though buddy boy, you had your chance!" She makes that jokey decleration with a dismissive wave of her hand, an goes back to gazing at you. There's a touch of appraisal in that look, like she's sizing you up and filing you away for later recollection. No attraction in it either, other than polite interest

>Alright then, let's get this over with. QT Pa2T or not, this chica clearly has some sort of majormalfunction going on. That's the only possible explaination as to how she can be so calm and at home in another person's home while you have a phobia of using public bathrooms for fear of running into someone you know staring at your junk. Lucky confident little Jezebel...
>"Allllright Miss, you've had your fun now, I'd like an explanation please before I call the cops. Why'd you invade my home? What do you want? And how do you know my name?"
>"Well I didn't invade your home so much as I just popped in to visit. I had a little business in the area, thought I'd settle down before things got awkward."
>"'Just Popped in to Visit?' (Yes, biting sarcasm, the highest and most rarified form of wit. That'll scare her shitless) You normally break into other people's homes just to put your feet up?"
>"Well I don't usually gatecrash, but it's been a really busy morning. Smallpox outbreak in Patagonia knocked me for six, I've been running ragged just to keep up. Sorry for imposing on your hospitality."
>"Uh-huh"
>"Oh don't you 'Uh huh' ME buster, I take my job very seriously. Someone in my family has to..."
>She turned up the pout on that one, she seems to at least take her delusions seriously if nothing else
>"As to how I know your name user, that's very simple. I know everyone's name. I'm Death."
>"Death"
>"Yep!"
>"Anthropomorphic personification of the end of all living things? The Omega, the Be All and End All, the Final Destination of all Journeys, the Great Cosmic Ticket Inspector at the Heat Death of the Universe?"
>"... The last one's new to me, but yes, if you like."
>Silence. She seems serious enough about the utter crap she's saying, but the oly thing that necessarily proes is that she's even crazier than she looks (though if she is it's a hot crazy)
>"So you've come to reap my soul?"

headpattenings

>"Perish the thought! I don't kill people user. I just come to collect. Part and parcel of the human condition, I'm the complimentary service after the meal."
>"Of course you are. And you're here for me?"
>"Yes I am. Sorry you found me like this, but it's been a REALLY busy morning, and my timing was off. I didn't think you'd wait for the traffic light to go green, you normally cross when there's no sign of traffic."
>Alright, alarm bells really starting to go off now. You've got a stalker chick who's observed you enough to learn your daily patterns. And she's giving you an abbrieviated speech on how now is the time of you're dying, probably going to do the whole yandre thing and sscoop your nuts out
>Shame too, she pretty and you haven't talked to a human woman this long since you got stuck in the DMV waiting line with a grandma desperate to display her groin spawn's spawn
>A terse scream interrupts your conga line of thought, as you catch a Pizza Delivery boy stumble and run down your front drive from the living room window
>"There we go. I think it's time you left the house user. And no, not because you think I'm here to hurt you. Far from it in fact."

>Entering your hallway, you were surprised to see a shape slouched over by the telephone. A figure wearing clothes exactly like yours. A figure your exact same height, shape and build. It couldn't be YOU of course, you made sure to explain that to her. To her credit, she was very understanding. She probblly gets this a lot.
>Now, it COULDN'T be you, not just for the self evident reasons that you were walking and talking with her as spry and lively as ever, but because that... thing... in the hallway wasn't you
>It might resemble you to the casual observer, but you saw your ace in the mirror every day. You weren't much of a looker (being a green skinned featureless humanoid with a question mark for a face), but you certainly weren't that
>Your face wasn't that cold to the touch, your eyes weren't that dull, you're body wan't odd and lacking, as if someone had subtracted the mass from your bones. That thing had to weigh at least five pounds less than you did!
>You delivered your (life's) thesis to her on the living room sofa, first quiet and assured, then hysterial and laughing. And then you just began to repeat yourself over and over until you could suppress the sobs no longer.
>She just sat there with you as you let it all out. A firm arm around the shoulder and a gente nod. For all the world like a mother offering comfort to her child
>After a while the tears stopped and she brought a folded hankerchief out of her jean pockets. It was white cloth (not the black silk you expected), with little lace skulls embroidered around the sides
>"Go on then, have a good blow."
>Wiping your face clean from the torrent of snot and mucus, you turn back to see her proffering the pizza box your unlucky delivery boy was carrying
>"You want some pizza now?"
>You never even saw her pick that up. Against all probability, it's still piping hot, despite your hour long lamntation of your own mortality

holding hands with her

>Double pepperoni with the crust crispy golden and the cheese extra runny. Just the way you like it. The pizza parlor across town isn't anything special, but you'd be willing to lay odds this is the best they've ever made. All for you
>You look back to her nervously, warmth and love and gentleness radiating from her sincere smile. Like a vet being gentle with a beaten animal
>"I though you could use a slice at a time like this."
>Well, for an ancient anthropomorphic personification of entropy disguised as a cute punk girl, she's a pretty considerate person
>Pie in hand, you dig in to what is in all likelihood your last meal, and you begin to talk. Talk and talk for what feels like hours. What came after that was a surpise to you, perhaps even to her
>Just how did you court the Grim Reaper?
>Well. A kind ear and greasy pizza does wonders for your own sense of mortality. You've read enough sepculative fiction to have an inkling of what comes next, and as a ferryman of souls this Death seems pretty cool. You were expecting the 2spooky guy with the scythe and the FULL CAPS VOICE, so a cute goth chick is a marked improvement
>Things are begining to get a lot clearer now too. Seeing your corpse was shocking at first, but free from your mortal coil a lot of the basic illusions and restrictions of the flesh are lifted. That's the usual reaction according to her
>You didn't have a bad innings really. Far too much time wasted bitching about chinese cartoons with complete strngers on the internet, but it could have been a lot worse. You didn't hurt anyone at least
>"So how'd it happen exactly?"
>"Deep Vein Thrombosis in the long term and a heart defect in the short term."
>"So that burnt toast smell was..."
>"You having a stroke, yes. At the very least, it was quick. You were dead before you even knew it."
>The flippancy in her voice might have offended you once, but given your cooling corpse in the hallway, it seems silly to get bent out of shape.

>"So what comes next?"
>"Well, that's up to you I'm afraid. I'm here to usher you into a bigger and brighter world, what you find there is your choice."
>"You in a hurry? I mean, well, that is, do I have to choose quickly?"
>Getting a bit desperate there. Dead or not, you still want to talk with her more. Not often you meet the embodiment of an abstract concept. N-not that you like her THAT way oe anything, I mean, how often does this kind of philosophical opportunity come along? It'd be dumb not to
>Speaking of liking her that way, could she even... ah man, now you're ever gonna get THAT idea out of your head. Might as well work it intot he conversation, you doubt anyone could really offend her
>"No, I'm in no hurry. Take your time. The same moment I'm talking to you I'm with drug addicts OD'ing and grandparents passing away in their sleep. I'm there for everyone user, not just you. I'm that last bit of respite everybody gets, that everyone deserves. We can talking if you like, but if it's answers you seek I'm not really equipped to give them.You'd want my brother for that."
>Wait she has family? Anthropomorphic personifications have family? Mark that one for later investigation
>"So there's no real way of knowing where I end up next? I mean, you exist, so does heaven and hell?"
>"Oh they exist alright. You'll only go there if you want to though. The afterlife's pretty Mutliple Choice."
>Promising! Let her keep talking, there's no harm in learning the lie of the land before you cross over, is there?
>"So this is all pretty stndard for you right?"
>"Well there's one thing I was wondering about atually. Most people don't react that badly to the sight of their own body, you were pretty upset back there."
>Oh. Oh. Oh no.
>"I mean occasionally they refuse to accept it and won't even talk to me, then you've got a ghost on your hands. But I don't often have to comfort people like that, you were really upset."
>OH NO NOO NONONONO NOOOO

>"Is there any unfinished business you have left? I think I can stretch to delivering a message for a loved one if you want, it's no trouble. Got all the time in the world I have."
>Fuck. Oh there's so much genuine concern in her voice it hurts. You're gonna tell her what it was and she's going to laugh, and then this cute girl you like is going to think you're pathetic and it's high school all over again except this time the girl is as old as the universe itself and she's going to remember you forever as that one loser she tells the other Horsemen of the Apocalypse about when they get together for coffee and gossip...
>(Wait, does that mean Famine, War and Pestilence are cute alternative culture girls too? Is War a cute Metal chick? Would Famine be grunge chic? File that one away for further inquiry too)
>Oh man she's staring at you again. She's got that whole motherly concern vibe going on, you never could resist that look. Alright then; come clean with her, laugh it off, get your answers to the questions of the ages (like does War favour Black Sabbath or Judas Priest, and what's her number), and then get on to whatever it is the afterlife has waiting for you, be it Nirvana, Disneyland, 2-D Heaven or whatever
>"W-well, there was... one thing I regretted. Something I knew I'd never resolve when the whole 'you are dead' thing sank in."
>She's looking at you pretty intently with those big eyes now, she probably wants the feedback on her work to improve on future cases. She takes her job seriously at least. Ahh hell, if the physical incarnation of Death can't be bothered to treat your problems properly, it's not like anyone else in the universe would care
>She said she's there for everyone. That one last shoulder to cry on. Let's put that to the test
>"I was... well honestly I was upset mainly that I died a virgin. Ahem."
>Welp. You said it. Odds are she either gets so embarassed at how utterly pathetic you and walks out in disgust, or she'll start...

>Oh here come the giggles. Yeah, she's laughing at you. It's not full on haughty derivive laughter, more the gentle amusement of a parent confronted with the superstition on an infant, but it's laughter alright. It IS a pretty kind of giggling though
>Burying you face in your hands, you don't catch her coming round to you and are consequently surprised when's she begins gently patting your forearm as if to say "there there"
>"user, you just died and the one thing you think that defines you entire life as a failure is whether or not you went balls deep in a woman.? Puh-Leeez, you should know better than that."
>Pity. Greeeat
>"The whole point of sex is that emotional connection with someone you love. Anything without that is meaningless. And if you're judging your life by that standard, half the human race died unfulfilled. You lived a life the same as anyone else, just as pointless and utterly amazing as everyone else, and never having sex won't change that."
>Well. That was better than expected. She actually managed to buoy up your self-esteem there for a minute, right up until she emphasised the NEVER HAD SEX thing. Though you can imagine how an anthropomorphic personification might not put much store in the pleasures of the , it's not like she'd have much need to indulge in them
>Wait a minute, call her out on that! Who the hell does she think she is, calling out meatbag mating rituals when her shapely skeletal ass
don't know what the fuck she talkin' 'bout?
>"Alright Miss Hoity Toity Grim Reaper, you may have a point there, but you're hardly an expert in the field are you? I'm willing to bet your sexlife makes mine look downright hedonist!"
>Well you got her laughing again, that's a good sign. The real deal, with the tears streaming down her face, clutching her aching sides and rolling around on the floor. At least somebody's enjoying this

>"user, I'm the second oldest sentient being in existence, do you really think I've gone all that time without taking some guy's skin boat to tuna town?"
>"W-what?"
>"What you mean dance the Mattress Mambo? Take ol' One Eye to the Optometrist? Play Hide the Snake in the Shrubbery? Have your Jackie Chan Rumble in my Bronx? Rumple your Foreskin in my Rumplestiltskin? Supercalifragilistic my Expialidocious?"
>Well you aren't made of stone. That pushes you over the edge and now you're on the floor with her, gaping for breath between laughing fits. For bearing your soul completely before her, that wasn't bad.
>Okay, we've established she is at least human enough in temperament and (presumably) biology to be capable of sex. Now comes the hard part. She's either going to dunk your head in the River Styx for this, or you'll mangage to finally cross off your bucket list AFTER you kicked the bucket
>"So then Miss Harvester of Men... since you know so much about the dirty deed, would you grant me one last request and teach me what you know?"
>Her quizzical look nearly turns into a snicker, but on seeing the expression on your face she quickly gathers herself. From the glassy grin you're wearing and the sweat drops coming down your forehead, she knows you aren't kidding around here
>She turns her head on its side, looking over you pensively. She actually seems to be weighing you up here, this might actually WORK-
>"Are you sure you want to do that with me?"

>"Huh?"
>"Are you sure? Not to patronise you, but did you miss the whole spiel I did about how it's okay to not have had sex? If you're doing this just to scratch that experience off your to do list, I'm not interested."
>"NO NO, PLEASE! I'm genuine about this, I mean it! I mean you're just so pretty, you're gorgeous, and you're so nice and kind and funny, and I really appreciated the way you stayed with me and calmed me down when I was scared, and what you said about, I thought that... you.."
>As you drone and ramble, her face sets into a stony glare and her eyes look straight into yours. You'll never forget that look, it's like every stern parental glare ever scowled condensed and pressurised into pure undiluted annoyance, it's intensity and guilt tripping qualities honed over countless millenia.
>It's easy to forget talking with her but she is OLD. She''s seen and done things you could scarcely comprehend, let alone try, over contless millenia and lifetimes. If you're going to poker face, her, you've already lost
>Unable to meet her eyes, you sop talking and turn your face down. You were doing so well, you'd practically befriended Death herself and now you fucked it up, just like you fucked everything up in your short, pathetic excuse of an existence
>She scooches over to you on her hands an knees, deadly purpose in her catlike prowl. She reaches her hand out to your downcast face and pulls it up
>There's still some sterness in that face, but a touch of compassion in the eyes. The same endless well of kindness there you glimpsed before
>Your eyes are rimmed red and begining to run a little with tears. Wiping them away with pallid fingers, she kisses you on the forehead and stands up. With your back to the wall, she hops over your splayed legs and pulls you into a tight bear hug

I was going to write my own quick cute rundown of having a relationship with Death but user's large fanfic kind of discouraged me.

>Too shocked to say a word, you gingerly move your pinned arms and circle them around her slim waist. For such a little thing she's got real strength in those wiry arms. Enough to reduce kings to beggars and the strongest of men into weakened husks, but metaphors aside it's probably just you being a weedy little wuss.
>You're like the "Before" pictures in those Charles Atlas ads, Jesus Christ, nerds would probably kick sand in your face
>Involuntary shivers runing through your body, you rest your head against the nape of her neck. Coal black hair in your face, you take a moment to breathe in her scent. Camphor on her skin and aloe in her hair, and... Myrrh? Is that Myrrh? Weren't those all used for embalming corpses?
>Well she doesn't feel dead. Or look it. Certainly doesn't smell like it either, so it's probably just a trappings thing, like it's expected of her. Just like Zeus smelling like thunderstorms, Old Spice and petting zoo cages
>You lie there gawking like a moron holding onto the cutest girl you've ever met, and just savor in the warmth. She doesn't need to breathe (and it's probably only just force of habit that makes you continue to do so), she doesn't make a sound, she just nestles onto your frame and holds you tightly
>You lie like that for minutes, your labored breath slowing down and your trembling arms finally steadying. She leans back and her face is as serious as the grave. No games, teasing or pretenses here. She's like those grim faced angels of death that litter crumbling graveyards
>"So user. Do. You. Like. Me?"
>You manage to stutter out an affirmative to that with the minmum of gurgling
>"So you like me. You might even.. love me?"
>"Arrrghle..."
>"I'll take that as a yes. So. user."
>Oh God you're so hard right now please let this be what you think it is
>"Would you like to lose your virginity to me?"
>AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
>"Do you want to make love to me?"

>She's got that impish look on her face again. That naughty, cocky little gleam in her eyes, that smirk promising pleasures and joys you'd lost all hope of having to yourself within your grasp at last...
>And with a goddess no less. Almost enough to make up for the years of crushing lonliness and utter abstinence form human affection. Wait is she technically a god? Or just an anthropomorphic personification? Better ask her if there's a term she prefers, you could offend her
>She's still waiting for your answer, grinning there with that lewd little smile
>Better give her an indication of what you think
>Her grip has shifted and her hands are now clamped onto your shoulders. Propping your own hands under her stubbly armpits to get some leverage (She shaves?), you lean in to kiss her
>Despite her unspoken assent, you're still nervous. When you colse in on her mouth you spastically judder and narrowly avoid headbutting her. You go in for another nuzzle on her face, before resolving to discuss this properly with her
>"You KNOW I haven't done this before right?"
>"Do I detect a hint of sulking?"
>"I just... it's going to be awful alright? I know it is."
>She lets out a pained sigh and ruffles your hair with arch fingers. She's still smiling and doesn't seem to be giving any indication that she intends to stop
>"This is your last request remember? I want YOU to feel good. Just do whatever you feel like and we'll work it out together from there, alright? If you want advice I could always give you some pointers..."
>That nicked your meager pride. You've read a mountain of pornography in your time, and you don't even know where to start? Try and surprise her, alright? Start of small, work your way up to the grand finale
>First point, physical contact. This is the closest you've ever been to a woman, so savour that. Your hands begin to wander over her lithe body, exploring her folds and creases

>Hugging her to your chest with your forearms, your hands work in concentric circles across her sides, her tummy, her back muscles and then her legs. Her widening grin and nod of approval is all you needed to see
>Leaning over, you get your first decent look at her backside
>Oooh, what an arse she's got. Rubbing through her jeans, you try to get a feel for it. There's some muscle tone there, nothing suggesting a strenuous workout regime but it's there. Does she walk lot in her "job"?
>Outside of the firm core, there's enough meat there to suggest she doesn't mind indulging her appetites a fair bit. Does she have to work at her apperance at all, come to think of that? Or is it all a projection of what she wants people to see? Add another question to that list
>Supple, pert butt with a touch of muscle. Good Lord she's perfect. Finding your groove, you begin to massage her cheeks, gripping and pinching in rollling motions as if you're kneading dough
>Pushing her waist down you begin to gently grind your straining crotch against hers, pushing down in time to the rythms of your rubs. Pating with impatience, you tenatively slide your hands down below the waist of her jeans and start massaging at the source of your arousal
>Her expression's the same, but you can feel her nails clasping down and tightening on your skin. Your erection swells to pant straining tightness and you begin to dig into her cheeks with your nails, returning in kind her affections
>A red pallor begins to flush her face, and her grin's even more uninhibited
>"All those groping and you won't even give me a big sloppy kiss?"
>Early hesitations and misgivings brushed away, you rush hungrily for mouth, amaterusihly brushing you lips against her in search of purchase on her flesh

>The sensation of moist warmth wriggling in you is glorious, and before long you throw yourself into it with gusto, wrestling tongues together as you explore each other's tonsils
>Five heated minutes of that and you pull awa, heaving and gasping or air as Death, her cheek blush a bright throbbing crimson, staresnumbly at the strand of saliva still bonding you together
>"Good boy... you may lack experience but you more than make up for it with enthusiasm. What next sahib?"
>Well you're out of ideas for stuff to do fully clothed. Better move this to the bedroom for Phase 2
>"Can we move this to the bedroom please? What I want next.... well, I'd appreciate the eblbow room and soemthing comfy to lie on. That and I don't want people to come into the living room to see us going at it like tongs and hammers in the nude."
>"See us nude? user, there is the small matter of you being dead. None of the can see you. The only thing right now they're concerned with is the part of you gently cooling in the front hallway."
>Oh. Right.
>The two of you make your way to the staricase in the front hallway. Unnoticed by the two of you, paramedics have cordoned off the entrance and are loading your body onto an ambulance. They don't seem to notice you or your companion, lookin straight past you as they shove your stiffening arms back on the gurney
>Well, no need to worry about that now. The two of you make it to the bed and resume kissing in earnest as you both begin to strip down. Yours are more assured, less hesitant and scared than before
>Declothed, you take in the full sight of her minus the baggy top and worn jeans. She's chalk white all over, not a bit of her tanned or uneven. Just 200 years ago and she'd be the golden standard of scoety's dream complexion
>Her breasts are wonderfully perky. Just enough sweater meat to squeeze tight in your palm, her aereola smooth and a dark shade of grey, nearly pure black. Ebon nipples wink out at you, perfect for sucking on

>Frilly underwear tossed aside (silk and lace bloomers by the look of them), you don't get much of a look at her cunt before she crosses her legs meditation style. A small tuft of her is all you see, enticing you onward to explore
>Oh Sweet Mother of God, she actually kept the boots on...
>"Maestro? Shall we play on?"
>You seem to have got her aroused, but a little extra stimulation never hurt. Cuddling up to her on your side, you begin kissing every inch of her you can get your grubby paws on, nibbling and dragging your tongue over her skin. Concentrating on the same areas before, but taking a minute to sniff and rub your face up against her butt
>Warm up done with, you turn your attention to her breasts. Grinning at her you begin to ply and knead, more gently than you did with her bottom. Brushing her nipples with your thumb, you rub and tweak till they fully ripen
>Going on instinct, you ope on your mouth and suckle on her left teat, slurping and nibbling like a baby with a bottle. Massaging her free tit with your spare hand as you squeeze the other you're greedily macking on, you look up to her face to gaugemher reaction
>She's actually begining to pant, in what you assume is a psychosomatic imitation of humanoid arousal, and not a shortness of breath? Do mythical beings like respire and react the same way a regular human does?
>That's something for you to consider. It might seem they wouldn't, but how else would she reliably interact with the likes of you? Your knee brushes against dampened sheets and you realise your efforts have finally borne fruit. Time to really get her motor running
>Letting her nipple out of your mouth with an audible pop, you upend her legs and get a good look between her legs as she gasps in surprise. Her vagina's a deeper shade of grey just like her nipples, with the inner folds of her labia and engorged clitoris are nearly black, presumably from the higher concentration of what passes for blood in her body

>Her pubic hair is a lightly trimmed tuft, same as her as her actual hair but dampened down by her stream of arousal and sweat. Smell isn't too overpowering, just that slightly rank salty musk you know from your own genital explorations
>Placing her back on the bedrest and raising her hips slightly to give you a better entry angle, she smiles at you and proffers her aching womanhood at you, moist and inviting
>Probing gently with your forefingers, you begin to slide in out of her snatch faster twsiting your hand around so your fingers cover every bit of her insides that you can reach. She looks very close now
>Drawing out your slimy fingers you give her a quick peck on the mouth before heading south and tracing your tongue across her clit. Her feet are balling up now and her hands are clamped down hard on the bedrest. She's gasping now, and a look at her face from crotch level shows she's scrunched up her face from an effort not to shriek out loud
>Her juices dribbling down your chin, you go for the big push and shove your tongue as far inside her as it will go, tweaking and flciking her clit to drive her to orgasm. She kicks her legs out as she goes rigid and lets loose a low throaty groan, fluids gushing from her spasming cunt as she rides out the last few waves of pleasure
>Lying there panting with exertion, the two of you snuggle up and cuddle. Your dick has been at full staff for the last 10 minutes, and you rub it in her inner thigh to relieve the pressure. All things considered, she seems pretty pleased with your efforts so far, amateurish or not
>Her goofy sex grin begins to slide off her face and she looks at you with concern once more
>"user, you do know that when we finish this, we go our seperate ways? You're going to wherever it is you're going, and I keep working? I've enjoyed this as much as you have, but I don't want you to have any illusions about how it can end."

>"No I don't have any hope in that regard. Just thought I'd give it my best shot and enjoy the very last vestiges of my existence, if that's okay with you."
>"I really am sorry user. I want you to know I mean that."
>She doesn't seem like she's so upset she'll start crying. Just like she's resigned to what's bound to happen, so no point in crying over spilt milk. An enternity of the shit she does daily has gotta wear down your natural optimism
>"Oh, enough of this pity crap. Let's try and have fun alright? Just lay this one ghost to rest okay, you little tease."
>Well, just like that the happy's back. She tosses that wide grin right back you and swivels around to place your bodies together. Go time.
>"After the sterling service you offered me lover boy, I'd be a pretty lousy partner if I just let you do all the work, would I not?"
>Oh. So that's what a handjob from Death feels like. Not sure how many people she's done this with over the eons, but her technique seems pretty polished. She's working your shaft pretty steadily, tickling the hair on your balls, sticking her tongue down you ear hole and then nibbling on your nipples and love biting your neck
>WHOA got a little into it there. She's good. Bringing you to the brink and using your own precum as lubrication to jerk your cock faster. Never quite letting you peak when she feels your head twitch, and lots of stimulus on the rest of your body. Lovely. Getting kind of hard to think striaght from all the pleasure...
>"You want to cum in my mouth?"
>"All I needed to hear!"
>And then she's going down on you with more suction than a Dyson Vaccum cleaner

>Uooh. ARRRGH. Head feels kind of... melty. Like that weak kneed light headed thing you get after you cum and the recoil hits you. She just keeps swirling your penis around with her tongue, her head bobbing along as she tries to take your shaft's full length down her throat
>A friend of yours once described this as akin to shoving your dick in a freshly baked Hot Pocket, but minus the second degree burns. Given your first hand experience, you'd conceed he had thelie of it. The warmth and constriction on your already sensitive prick is already hard to bear, and given that she doesn't need to breathe (or seemingly possses a gag reflex) her constant attacks on your crotch are too hard to bare for long
>You still manage the presence of mind to grab her head and force her down harder, which she greets with a muffled "thwank uuoo!" When you finally blow your agonising load she refuses to let up, pumping you for all you're worth and fiddling with your balls to coax out the very last drop
>Sucking on your deflating cock, she methodically sweeps her nubile tongue around, cleaning you properly and swallowing every last drop. The last spurt comes as her teeth rake on your head and she smiles as they splash half heartedly on her face
>Gathering up your last semen with her index finger, letting that last ounce drip drip into her open mouth snd then sticking the finger in her maw and licking it pristine in a single gulp, as if she just stuck her finger in the cake batter mixture for a quick taste
>"Delish! Please convey my compliments to the chef for my meal, garcon."
>You manage a weak smile at that, knees still knocking together, and go in for another long kiss. You've both used up that initial nervous energy and are just riding on the orgasm high one after the other. You both kiss with gentle affection, your desperation given way to smooth, practiced motions. Climax is coming up soon, you better save the last of your energy for that final push

>"Uhhh Death... should I call you that? Seesm a bit silly..."
>"Call me whatever you like you silly billy. Takes a lot to ruffle my feathers."
>"I think I'm ready now. To do THAT."
>"If you say so. We could always sit here and cuddle more if you like. There's no rush."
>"No I mean it. I'm ready."
>She flashes you one last great beaming smile
>"Attaboy."
>Lying down flat on your bed, she arches her legs and beckons you closer with a single crooked finger. Her slick crotch is dried with the efforts of your earlier administrations, and her clit is practically winking at you from it;s resting place
>She might not be sopping wet, but your dick is still wet from her mouth service and that sorely need cuddle break was the respite you needed to get it back up again. Time to put an end to this. Shame you just died really. You did a lot more growing in these few hours than the majority of your protracted man-child phrase when you were only an adult on paper
>Isn't that typical? You go through so much and learn so many things, only for it all to hae no point. That's life for you. What it WAS for, you, that is. Lining your penis up with her you quash the last pangs of embrassment nagging you in the back of your head and go in for a liplock kiss as you begin to penetrate her
>Fuuuuckk... alright, that earlier comment you made, about the Hot Pockets? You'd like to redact that and apply it to this sensation instead. It's different from her mouth; not quite as tight or cloying, but it's much, MUCH hotter. The sensations are magnified too as you thrust in and out, you can actually feel her insides shifting and churning as they mould to accomodate your length
>The sensation is exquisite. Thankfully you don't have quite the energy to come yet, but just enough to keep hard and rigid. Her hips are bucking and you try to work into a rythm, pushing into her as contracts and pulling out as she relaxes. After a while you get it down and increase your pace

>Her legs have curled around your back and her arms are holding you tight again. Between your tongues wrestling she keeps yelling out these fitful shreiks and yelps, it's utterly adorable
>You're face to face with one another, just staring into one another's eyes and losing yourselves in one another as you throw your bodies as hard as you can. It's perfect. It's awkward and it's desperate and it's so utterly, quintessentially human you could cry
>You've never felt this good in your life (afterlife technically), it's a shame the first time was also the last. At least you're making the most of the time you have. Is this the kind of sex she was talking about before? Is it normally this good for people or is this a special case?
>You probably aren't the first person she's been this emotionally close to before, how many others have there been? Did they feel the same? So many damn questions you came up with and you never got any answers
>Mind wandering to prevent your last release, fatiguee finally catches up with you and your body charges the bill for services rendered. With one last thrusting frenzy, you give her everything you have left and burst in her, showering her womb with thick ropy strands of cum after cum
>She floods back in turn and you both come together, panting and snuggling against one another a final time. With the last of your energy pent, things are begining to go dark. This looks like the end she was talking about. Between gasps, you squeak out your last words
>"D-did I doo good honey? W-was, was it special for you too?"
>She returns your question with a nurturing stroke of your hair. She's regained her composure and there's an air of finality about her

>"Yes user, it was good for me to. I'd light you a cigarette but you don't smoke remember?"
>You stifle a chuckle at that. Time to sat goodbye. Wherever it is you;re gonna end uo, after the send off you just recieved you don't doubt you'll be able to whether any punishment. The memory of this will suffice
>"So how do I move on?"
>"Simple user. Just take my hand. Hold on tight now. I'm here for you. I'm here for everyone."
>Your fingers intertwine with hers and tighten up. Your vision is blacking out now, the last lights winking out
>"I lived a good life didn't I?"
>The last thin you see is her sunny smile radiating down to you
>"You lived the same as everyone else user. You lived a lifetime."
>The lights go out and the last thing you hear is the sound, the gentle beating of mighty wings...

that's the end thank you for for your patience as I spammed some Yea Forumsmrades fanfic from all the way back in 2007
and if you're out there my dude I hope you're doing well.

Tell her that I don't really have anything to prepare for but give me a few minutes to prepare. Then delete my porn, write a quick note to my family, give them my passwords for a few accounts like e-mail if they need (I trust them not to do anything stupid). Say good-bye. Then go and ask her what kind of art and music she likes and if she would like to spend the day just exploring.
>go to museums, science and art
>go to a piano/jazz bar for a bit
>catch the symphony ask if she will hold my hand
>if she asks if there is one place I would like to go first, say just to spend the time with her and let her pick, any place or time, just make it beautiful.
>hope to cry from sadness and beauty
>and ask for a hug to be my last contact on this realm

Punch her in the face, because I null Death, and force her to help me kill YHVH/YHWH.

Is this relatively new pasta? This is the first time in a while I visited one of these types of threads.

Mxy is a bullshit powerful reality warper, usually in the ballpark of doing universe-affecting shit. He was getting his shit pushed in. He asks this other guy for help.