Jeff Strand - The Sinister Mr. Corpse

"I have lots and lots of them," said Dot.

"Did you bring the glow in the dark ones?" asked Mandy.

"No, we used all of those in Dallas."

"What about the cinnamon ones?"

"I think those are gone, too. Let me check." Dot opened her purse and began rummaging through the contents. "I think we used the last one at that truck stop by D.C."

"Damn. I liked those."

The elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the hallway. Dot continued to dig through her purse as they walked to Stanley's room. "I've got the strawberry ones."

"Nah, those gave me a rash."

"What about the chocolate ones?"

"Those were nasty."

"Are you sure? I thought you liked those."

"No, they were disgusting. They didn't taste anything like chocolate."

Stanley took out his room key and waved it over the reader. At the beep he pushed open the door and led the women inside, closing the door behind them.

"Ah, here we go!" said Dot, pulling out a strip of condoms. "Cinnamon."

"Those aren't the cinnamon ones, those are the cherry ones," said Mandy with a frustrated sigh.

Dot sniffed one of the wrappers. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. The cinnamon ones have the flames on the wrapper."

"Can I get you ladies a beverage?" asked Stanley. "We've got a mini-bar."

"Ooh! Ooh!" Dot set her purse on the dresser and crouched down beside the mini-bar. "I vote we empty this thing by the time the night is over."

"Works for me," said Mandy.

Dot grabbed a handful of tiny bottles and tossed them onto the king-size bed. Mandy dove onto the bed after them. Dot followed. Stanley just stood there, unsure of exactly how presumptuous he should be in this situation.

He'd never had two women at once. He'd had the opportunity, years ago, but had blown it. They'd been making out on his parents' sofa, and one of the women had sexily asked him which one of them Stanley liked better. He'd answered truthfully. It had, of course, been a trick question. He got nothing that night.

Dot and Mandy each opened a bottle of liquor and chugged it down. Dot looked over at him. "Why don't you join us?" she asked.

Stanley climbed onto the bed with them. Mandy handed him a bottle, which he opened without reading the label and downed in one swig. It felt good to be financially secure enough to consume obscenely overpriced mini-bar liquor.

An image of Veronica flashed before his eyes.

Go away, he told it. This is no time for guilt. Veronica would never have me anyway. Now is the time for gettin' nasty with Mandy and Dot. Fuck off, mental image.

The mental image vanished.

"Mind if we get more comfortable?" asked Mandy.

"Not at all."

Mandy patted Dot on the arm. "C'mon." They got off the bed and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Stanley cleared the bottles off the mattress. It wouldn't do for somebody to roll over on one and break it. Although these women could very well be into arterial spray.

Normally in an amorous situation, this would be the perfect opportunity for Stanley to disrobe. But despite their lack of gagging over his appearance, he wasn't sure it was a good idea to hit them with his body all at once. Let them see it bit by bit.

God, he hoped his penis wasn't a turn-off.

He heard giggling from the bathroom.

He wondered if they would satisfy each other's needs as well as his. That would be pretty cool.

He wondered what Veronica would think about what he was doing right now.

Maybe she'd approve. After all, he didn't know her very well. Perhaps she'd give him the thumbs-up and say "Good job, Stanley! Make those women happy! And drink more booze from the mini-bar! I'm proud of you!"

Yep, that's exactly what she'd say. No worries.

More giggling from the bathroom.

What was taking these cruel temptresses so damn long?

The bathroom door opened. Mandy and Dot emerged, wearing remarkably little. Mandy was in a black bra and panties, while Dot wore a red bra and a g-string. They looked absolutely spectacular. Stanley gaped at them, unable to speak.

Was he being a selfish bastard, hogging both of them for himself? Perhaps he should give Martin a call. Or try to get on Brant's good side…

"What do you think?" asked Mandy.

"Gahuh," Stanley replied, not quite sure what it meant.

Mandy and Dot turned around in a circle, modeling for him. Stanley thought that he was going to pass out from sheer bliss. How could his life get any better?

The women kissed.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Holding hands, Mandy and Dot walked over to the bed. "Think you can handle both of us, stud?" asked Dot.

"I'll do it or die trying," Stanley replied.

The women giggled. Stanley's lust was so intense that it took him a moment to realize that he'd accidentally made a zombie joke. He'd have to remember that one for future interviews.

Dot gave Stanley a gentle shove, and he lay on his back. Mandy and Dot climbed onto the bed, one on each side of him, and began to rub and kiss him through his clothes. Stanley closed his eyes and just let the physical sensations overpower him.

He was going to have sex with two gorgeous women.

Two unbelievably hot women.

Two necrophiles.

Stanley opened his eyes. Here he was, about to have sex with a pair of women who were into re-animated dead guys. He was a freakin' zombie! What the hell were they thinking? What kind of messed up chicks slept with a rotting guy named Mr. Corpse?

He'd dated plenty of women who were into kinky stuff. He could provide spankings when requested. He was always up for a good tied-to-the-bed session, both as the provider and recipient of the rope burns. Hot candle wax was never a problem, nor were nipple clamps, testicle decorations, or this scary toy his ex-girlfriend Charlene owned that looked like the crab-monster in Alien.

But he had limits. The inclusion of household pets, for example. And fantasy role play that involved him pretending to be a father, son, brother, uncle, cousin, or great aunt.

Sleeping with necrophiles was another one.

"Hold on a second," said Stanley, sitting up. "I don't think I can do this."

"What do you mean?" asked Mandy.

"I mean…I just can't do it. It's icky."

"We'll be the judge of that."

"No, really. This is just deranged. I've got a decomposed dick. You seem like two very nice girls, but you're also scary. I think you should leave."

"You're kicking us out?" asked Dot, incredulous.

"Yes," said Stanley, equally incredulous.

Mandy pouted. "Don't you like us anymore?"

"You know that Groucho Marx line about not wanting to join a club that would have him for a member? I'm thinking that any women who would screw a zombie are best left untouched."

"You've got a lot of fucking nerve," said Dot, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "You talk to us, you buy us drinks, you bring us up here, and now you aren't going to put out?"

"Sorry."

"How about just oral?"

"That's actually much worse, to be honest."

Mandy smacked his leg. "Asshole."

The women got off the bed and walked back into the bathroom. Stanley lay there, torn between wanting to call them back and wanting them out of his room as quickly as possible so he could start spraying disinfectant.

They emerged from the bathroom less than thirty seconds later, fully dressed. Mandy gave him the finger.

"You can have the rest of the booze, if you want," Stanley offered.

"Go to hell."

"Yes, ma'am."

They left the room. Stanley lay there, relieved but a little depressed. Was he doomed to be alone for the rest of his life? Would he never again know the touch of a woman? Never again know intimacy? Never again experience a really good, sloppy blow job?

Stanley's eyes widened. What in the holy name of fuck had he been thinking? Quasimodo and the Phantom of the Opera had to kidnap women to try to get laid, and he'd turned away two hot women who were throwing themselves at him! Forget a life of self-imposed celibacy! He was gonna get himself a piece of necrophile ass!