Sex At A Funeral- Part 1

Ass

I love being an intern. I really do. There is so much to learn and experience, and the perks are amazing. For the past two years, I had the pleasure (quite literally) of doing my internship at a funeral home in my hometown. My ambition is to be a funeral director and there is no better place to get hands on experience than working in funeral home. My boss and mentor is the Funeral Director. He is a 35 year old man of Japanese descent. His name is Kyle and he took over “the biz” from his father. Kyle is a soft-spoken, well-dressed man with the best people skills that I’ve ever seen. At nearly six feet tall with black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes, he is quite the handsome man. He can be etimesgut escort emotionally strong, empathetic, and business-like or anything else he needs to be depending on the situation. I first met Kyle two years ago when I was 17 and just out of high school. I met him through a “work-life” training program. He was very impressed with me and my desire to work in the funeral industry. By that summer, I was working at the funeral home full time. The work was fascinating, the pay was lousy but the sex was incredible. Kyle and I got along very well from day one. My initial duties were quite menial such as answering phones, running errands and office cleaning. eryaman escort I did them without complaints and took great pride in my work. The next year, I became Kyle’s personal assistant. Keeping him and the office on schedule was far more challenging than I thought. I came in contact with families of the deceased, wrote obituaries and ordered flowers for the services, but still I thrived on it. I found my dream job. In less than three months, my relationship with Kyle turned sexual as our innocent flirtations became more daring. He would pat my ass when he passed by, or I would flash him my tits when he was talking on the phone. I sucked his cock every sincan escort night before I left for the day. Of course, we did these things when we were alone. After all, we had boundaries, but what good are they if they’re not pushed? The first time we pushed the boundaries was at Mrs. Higgins’ funeral. Good ol’ Mrs. Higgins lived to the ripe old age of 95. Although she was widowed, she had a very large family. Kyle said her service brought “a very large turnout.” On the day of the funeral mass and burial, Kyle closed the casket, turned to me and said, “Amy, you’re coming with us to the service and cemetery.” The pallbearers took the casket to the hearse that Kyle would be driving. I would ride in the passenger’s seat. It was the first time I ever rode with him. Our first stop was to the church for the funeral mass. Once the service began, I sat in the back pew with Kyle while the pallbearers sat up front. Kyle and I held hands as we listened to the priest give his eulogy.

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