The Funeral

The funeral home was probably the most depressing place Ethan had ever seen. He had never met Mr. Hansen, and seeing him laying dead in a coffin in the middle of the room was a little disturbing. The worst part, though, was that he didn't know anyone there. Mom was on the other side of the room, talking to a couple of older people, and Pam was with her. He was by himself in a room full of strangers. Why did he have to be there, anyway?

The room had two doorways. He was close to the one at the back. He inched toward it, then slipped out. That wasn't so hard.

In the hallway, he took a deep breath. Finally, he was free. It was like swimming to the surface from the deep end of the pool, after being down there for about an hour.

The hallway ran along the side of the room to the front of the funeral home, and the other adjoining rooms with other dead people in coffins and other somber families dressed in black. Ethan hesitated. That was really not the direction he wanted to go.

To his left, though, was a glass door that went outside. Just on the other side of that door was a garden with a brick patio, a wrought iron table and matching chairs, and a small wooden gazebo painted white. It wasn't as good as playing hockey with his friends, but it was a whole lot better than anywhere inside the funeral home. He opened the door and went out.

The glass door shut with a soft hiss. Ethan took a deep breath. It was quiet and peaceful on that small back patio, even though the parking lot that wrapped around behind the funeral home was just a few feet away on the other side of a low hedge.

Along the back wall of the funeral home was a wide, panoramic window that looked out onto the patio from the room where Mr. Hansen was laid out. Ethan pulled at the tie around his neck to loosen it a bit, and peeked around the edge of the window.

There was Mom, talking to another older couple. Pam was still with her, smiling and talking as if she had known those people all her life. Ethan shook his head. How did she do it? But then, she was always more outgoing, whereas he just wanted to keep to himself. She couldn't help but be outgoing when she looked as hot as she did in that slinky dress.

Again, the sight of her made his mouth water and his penis twitched in his pants. She looked hot in anything she wore, even plain jeans and a sweat shirt. However, he had been noticing Mom more and more. She looked incredible herself.

Inside the room, Mom laughed at something someone said. Ethan closed his eyes. In his pants, his penis throbbed. It was as hard as a rock and strained against the leg of his pants. Whenever he thought about the time she bought him those condoms and practically jerked him off in the car, he felt like he was going to explode. It was the way she was looking at him that made him weak. She had the most intense look of desire in her eyes that he could not ignore. But what was he supposed to do about it?

His hard penis throbbed in his pants again and he groaned. He looked down. He couldn't go back inside like that. His hard dick was stretching out the front of his pants, almost all the way down to his knee. What was he going to say when someone asked him about it? That he had a cucumber in his pocket?

He went up the few steps into the gazebo. It was off to the side and out of sight of the wide, panoramic window. Except for the view from the parking lot behind the funeral home, it was pretty private.

He rubbed his dick through his pants. If he could just jerk off real quick, then he'd have his mind off of Pam and the look of her hot ass in that dress. That would give him plenty of time to recharge if he got the chance to bang her for real later.

With his back to the entrance of the gazebo, he pulled down the zipper of his pants and reached in for his hard dick. There was a flower planter on the back side of the gazebo that looked like it wasn't getting enough sun. Maybe it could use some of his special, enriched fertilizer. He aimed his dick at the flowers and stroked his hand slowly back and forth on the shaft. His eyes closed again. He should have told Pam he was coming out here and ...

The back door to the funeral home opened and closed again with a soft hiss. Ethan jumped. He scrambled to get his dick back into his pants, hoping that whoever it was didn't notice what he was doing. He looked over his shoulder.

It was Mrs. Hansen. She had a cigarette in her mouth and was trying to get her lighter to work.

"God damn piece of shit," she said, and shook it fiercely.

Ethan came down the few steps of the gazebo, with one hand covering the front of his pants.

"Anything wrong?" he said.

Mrs. Hansen jumped.

"Not if you have a lighter that works."

"Afraid not," Ethan said, with a shrug.

Mrs. Hansen sighed and took the cigarette out of her mouth.

"Just as well. These things will probably kill me, anyway."

At the bottom of the steps to the gazebo, Ethan stopped, watching the wide, panoramic window. He had to be careful to stay out of view so Mom didn't see him out there.

"Uh, Mrs. Hansen? Shouldn't you be in there?" he said, and pointed to the window.

She glanced at the window and smiled at him.

"Oh, Ethan. You're so sweet. Come on over here. Let me tell you a little story."

She took his arm and led him over to the window, where they could see Mr. Hansen, in the casket. She slipped her arm through his and held him close.

"This day has been a mixed blessing for me. On the one hand, I'm going to miss my husband terribly. On the other hand, though, I'm glad the son of a bitch is gone."

Ethan shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. The tie around his neck was getting tighter again.

"That man, that miserable bastard, he was sleeping around like a good for nothing dog. And with my friends, too," Mrs. Hansen said.

Ethan cleared his throat.

"Well, uh, why didn't you leave him?" he said.

"Oh, don't think I didn't think about it. But I have to be honest with you, Ethan. It was his cock."

Ethan looked down at her. His face was burning, and his eyes were wide. She looked back at him and smiled.

"Does that embarrass you?" she said.

"A little."

"Artie had a nice cock."

She sighed and looked for a place to put her cigarette. Eventually, she just flicked it into the bushes.

"I used to love when he would fuck me. He had an honest eight inches. No man hit the spots inside me that he could."

Ethan just nodded. His face was still burning. He wasn't sure he should be listening to this.

"The last several years, though, we didn't have much sex. Our sex life was dead, as dead as, well, as Artie is now. But I still loved his beautiful cock, and I still sucked on it for him once in a while, mainly because I loved the feel of that big thing in my mouth. I'm going to miss that cock," she said.

Ethan shifted on his feet again. Mrs. Hansen was still holding him tight with her arm around his. In his pants, his hard cock was straining for release, and it had nowhere to go. It didn't help that he had to listen to Mrs. Hansen talk about sucking cock. She was a little older than Mom, and not bad looking, either.

Her eyes glanced down.

"Having a problem, dear?" she said.

"Hm? Oh, uh, no. I'm fine," Ethan said, and looked away.

She was smiling at him. Did she see the bulge in the front of his pants?

"Why is it, do you think, that some women refuse to give a man a blowjob?" Mrs. Hansen said.

Ethan looked at her and blinked. Did she really just ask him that question?

"Has that ever happened to you?"

Ethan blinked again. "I'm sorry?"

"Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever had a girl refuse to give you a blowjob? I can't imagine it has, a good looking young man like you."

"Uh, no. Not really," Ethan said.

His cock was as hard as a rock and throbbed in his pants. There was no way it was going to get soft now.

"Are you still seeing that girl? What was her name?" Mrs. Hansen said.

"Carrie?"

"Yes, Carrie. She was pretty, wasn't she?"

"Yeah. Very pretty," Ethan said.

"Are you still seeing her?"

"No. We broke up," Ethan said.

"That's a shame."

Ethan looked away. "Yeah."

"Did she ever give you a blowjob?" Mrs. Hansen said. ***

"Uh ... Excuse me?"

Mrs. Hansen glanced down at the front of his pants again, and she had a smirk on her face.

"I'll bet she did. I'll bet she enjoyed blowing you any day of the week."

"Yeah. I guess so," Ethan said, and had to smile to himself. He had one good memory of Carrie with his cock in her mouth, and that memory always got him hard.

"When I was your age, I hated blowjobs. My first boyfriend was fourteen and I was twelve. He thought a blowjob meant holding my head down and moving it up and down with his hands. All that mattered was that it felt good to him."

"What happened?" Ethan said.

"Honestly, it was years before I met a boy who treated me well. I'll never forget him. His name was Rob. He was the first boy I loved. He taught me it was ok to like giving a blowjob. He tasted good, too, I mean, compared to the other boys I was blowing."

"What happened to him?" Ethan said.

Mrs. Hansen sighed. "Turns out he was gay. Before he came out, though, I got pretty good at giving head. I could make him completely helpless when I went down on him. That's what I love about giving head. When I go down on a man, I am in control, complete control."

"Yeah," Ethan said.

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. It was one thing to get a blowjob from a cute girl. It was something completely different to talk to one of Mom's friends about giving blowjobs.

"You know what else I love about blowjobs? I love to pull on a man's balls, and tickle them with my tongue. I gag when I suck a man too deep, and I get sloppy wet. Men always seem to like that. I'm not sure why. But I love the effect it has on a man, when I look up at him with his cock in my mouth, and then I go down deep, as far as I can go. I can make a man turn to putty in my hands," she said.

"Yeah. I love that," Ethan said.

Mrs. Hansen snickered. She turned back to the wide, panoramic window.

"Take my daughter," she said.

She was pointing to someone inside the room. Ethan had to look around until he found Maureen, Mrs. Hansen's daughter, standing by the casket.

"I happen to know she loves sucking cock. She hates getting oral, and would rather suck cock than kiss or even fuck. She could eat a twin-pop without breaking it in two," she said and laughed.

Ethan laughed, too. He tried to imagine putting his cock in Maureen's mouth, and clenched his jaws. Somehow, he was going to have to figure out how he was going to get some relief before he blew up.

"She has a friend, though, who absolutely refuses to give her boyfriend a blowjob. Personally, I think she's a dyke, but of course, she's never going to listen to me," Mrs. Hansen said.

Ethan nodded. It was more than he could stand. He put his hand on the front of his pants and pushed his hard cock down. It was impossible to hold back the groan of anguish.

"Are you sure you aren't having a problem, dear?" Mrs. Hansen said.

Ethan held his breath. There was no point in hiding it now. He tried to eliminate his problem, but she just made it a hundred times worse. He let out his breath and his shoulders slumped.

"Well ... Yeah," he said.

She leaned back a bit and took a good, long look at the front of his pants.

"That looks like a hell of a problem you have there. Do you mind if I touch it?" she said.

Ethan looked around. There was no one at the door that led into the funeral home. The only person around was a man walking to his car in the parking lot on the other side of the hedge.

"Go ahead," he said.

They turned away from the window to the gazebo. Mrs. Hansen's hand reached out and touched the ridge where his cock stretched out the leg of his pants. Her hand moved up the length of his cock toward his crotch. Her eyes got wide.

"Your mother told me you were built. She wasn't kidding," she said.

"My Mom told you that?" Ethan said, and sucked in a breath when her hand squeezed his cock.

"Yes, your mother told me about your cock. She tells me everything."

"Wow. That's so weird," Ethan said.

His eyes rolled back in his head. It was hard to concentrate on her words when her hand was moving up and down on his cock.

"Are you still fucking your sister?"

Ethan's eyes snapped open and he looked straight at her.

"How do you know about that?"

Mrs. Hansen smiled. "Your Mom knows a lot more about you than you think."

"A lot of people know more about me than I do," he said.

"I know this thing is bigger than my dildo. I bet you make Pam cum every time you fuck her with this, don't you? What is it? Nine inches? Ten inches?" Mrs. Hansen said.

"You want to take it out and measure it?"

She chuckled. "This probably isn't the best place to do that."

She looked toward the door and the wide, panoramic window. Her fingers quickly pulled down the zipper on the front of his pants and slipped inside. Ethan gasped. Her warm hand closed around his cock. He groaned and put his hand on one of the posts of the gazebo to hold himself up before his knees gave out.

"Ethan, dear? Your poor mother looks so lonely. When are you going to take care of her needs?" Mrs. Hansen said.

Ethan opened his eyes. His head was back and he was looking up at the clouds in the sky. He looked down at Mrs. Hansen. Her hand was in the fly of his pants, stroking his cock.

"Excuse me?" he said.

"Don't be so coy, dear. When are you going to fuck your mother? She's told me she can't get over how big you are, you know, in here," she said, and squeezed his cock.

Ethan groaned and held tighter to the gazebo post.

"She told you that?" he said.

"More than once. So ... What are you waiting for?"

Ethan shrugged. "I don't know. I just never thought ..."

"Never thought what?"

"Uh ... I don't know. What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, you can start by giving her some of this beautiful cock," Mrs. Hansen said.

"You're not the first person to tell me that," Ethan said.

"Is that so? Who else told you that?"

"Well, there was Pam, and there was our neighbor, Mrs. Thorn, and now you," he said.

His knees were locked, trying to keep them from giving out. Her hand felt great on his cock.

"And have you had sex with this Mrs. Thorn?"

"Oh yeah. A few times. She was my first," he said.

"I'm sure we're all wondering why it's taking so long for you to do it with your mother," Mrs. Hansen said.

The door to the funeral home opened with a soft hiss. They both had their backs to the door. Ethan was holding his breath. Mrs. Hansen's hand stopped moving in his pants and gripped his cock even tighter.

"Mom? What are you doing out here?" a woman's voice said.

Ethan and Mrs. Hansen looked over their shoulders at the same time. It was her daughter, Maureen, with a stern, but confused look on her face.

"Just visiting with Ethan, dear. He's been a pillar of support for me in this difficult time," she said, with a sniffle and a sob in her voice.

She gave his cock one more squeeze before she pulled her hand out of his pants. She turned to her daughter. Ethan gasped.

"Mom, Reverend Holland is looking for you. It's time to take Dad to the cemetery," Maureen said.

She put her arm around Mrs. Hansen and led her back inside. Ethan let out a deep breath. That meant there was no more time to take care of his problem. Mom was going to be looking for him, too.

He pulled up his zipper and went back into the funeral home. Pam and Mom weren't in the room with the others. Neither was Mr. Hansen. They had removed the casket. He found Pam by herself in the hallway, by the entrance to the funeral home.

"Hey, Pam. Where's Mom?" he said.

"She went to use the bathroom," Pam said. She was looking at the front of his pants. "Ethan? What do you got in there? Have you been hard all day?" ***

"Pretty much."

"I knew I should have taken care of you at home." Pam stepped closer to him and discreetly let the back of her hand brush against the hard bulge of his cock. "God, I'd love to have your cock inside me right now."

She was looking into his eyes and had a sly grin on her face. Her eyes looked past him, and the grin disappeared. Her hand yanked away from the bulge of his cock.

"Hey, Mom," she said.

"Ok, kids. Are you ready to go?" Mom said.

Ethan turned away before she got a look at his dick in his pants. She stopped and put her hand on Pam's cheek.

"You look a little flushed. Are you all right?" she said.

"Yeah, Mom. I'm fine. Come on. Let's go," Pam said.

She took Mom's hand and led her to the door. Ethan let them get a little ahead before he followed. He had his hands in his pockets, trying to hold his dick down against his leg. He might have looked a little awkward and uncomfortable, but it was better than trying to explain to Mom why he had a hard-on.

Maureen caught up to them in the parking lot at the side of the funeral home. She came from around the front, where her Mom's limousine was lined up behind the hearse with her father.

"Ethan? Ethan, can I bother you for a moment?" Maureen said.

They all stopped and turned to look at her. Mom took Pam's hand.

"Sure. What's up?" Ethan said.

Maureen was very pretty, a couple of years older than him, with the same fine red hair as her mother, and the same slender figure. She smiled at him, but looked a bit uneasy.

"Mrs. McCullen, if it's all right with you, my mother has asked if Ethan could ride with her to the cemetery. She said she could really use his support," Maureen said.

Ethan looked at Mom. She nodded.

"That's fine with me," she said.

Ethan went with Maureen back around the building to the front. The hearse and a pair of black limousines and a long line of cars with small orange flags on their roofs were waiting with their engines running. Mrs. Hansen was standing outside the first limousine, weeping. Maureen put her arm around her.

"Mom? It's all right. Ethan's here. He'll ride with you, ok? He'll take care of you," she said.

Mrs. Hansen held out her hand. Ethan took it in his hand and held her steady.

"Thank you, dear. Thank you so much. I really do appreciate it," she said between sobs.

"It's nothing, really. Here, let's get in the car," Ethan said.

He held the back door of the limo open and guided Mrs. Hansen to it. She stepped carefully into the back seat and sat down. Ethan closed the door.

Maureen leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his cheek. Ethan's face turned bright red.

"Thanks so much for doing this. You don't know how much this means to me," she said, and smiled at him. Her bright, blue eyes sparkled.

"No problem. You know. It's nothing, really," he said. "How are you going to get there?"

"I'm riding in the next limo, with my Grandmother. She's a wreck, too. I mean, my Dad, he was her son," Maureen said, and pointed to the second limo in line behind the hearse.

"Ok. Well, I'll see you in a little bit," Ethan said.

He went around the limo to get in on the other side. As he reached for the door handle, he clenched his teeth and rolled his eyes. What the hell was he doing this for? Why did he have to sit with Mrs. Hansen and hold her hand while she cried all the way to the cemetery? Wasn't there someone else in her family who could ride with her, like a brother or something?

He opened the door and got in. There was only one way to handle this, and Mom would be disappointed if he did it any different. He let out a short breath and turned to Mrs. Hansen.

"Mrs. Hansen, I-" he started to say, but stopped in the middle of his sentence..

Mrs. Hansen wasn't crying any more. She was putting lipstick on her lips, bright red lipstick. Ethan blinked.

"Mrs. Hansen?" he said.