I have been dead for quite some time.  Where once there was flesh and blood,
there is now nothing.  I walk the streets free from the confines which bind
others, and see with eyes which see day, night, and the time between.  Yet even
as free as I am, there are still chains which bind me to this plane.

Dianne is but one link, but an important one.  She was the first woman whom I can
truly say I loved.  I can still feel her arms around me as I hugged her for the
last time.  I can feel the tears on her cheeks as they slide onto my poisoned
flesh.  I can still hear her scream in anger the day I broke off our union.  When
she sees the truth of my decision, I feel her pain.  We remained friends even
after our breakup, a testament to the power within mankind to forgive.

I am dead because of one night of foolishness.  I try to remember her name, but
it always floats just out of my mind’s grasp.  I can remember the putrid funk of
alcohol on her breath as I kissed her dry lips.  I can still feel myself cast
away all caution as I mounted that sow without a condom.  I know that her rancid
sex felt even worse than it smelled.  The memory is clear, reminding me of the
price I paid for my stupidity.  I did things with her that I had only read about.
 I fucked her asshole savagely, not caring about the screams of protest she
offered.  Never mind that I slid into her asshole as easily as an figure skater
glides across the ice rink..  She fucked herself back, betraying her voice with
action.  I still feel her fingers as they closed around my balls and caressed
them as only a drunk bitch would.

I fucked my first bitch that night.  It was not the gentle bliss I shared with
Dianne on many nights before;  this was fucking.  Raw sex. Me first damn y’all. 
All I wanted was to spackle this broad with load after load of my seed.  I wanted
to see her for the whore she was.  I wanted to be the scum I had tried
desperately to avoid becoming.  The sound of our flesh slapping together has
followed me even here.  I am reminded of a song from the 1980’s:  I was a
squirrel tryin’ to get a nut.  I remember watching her swallow my dick whole,
even after having just muttered that she did not know how to suck cock.  Yeah... 
 right. And I’m Saint Peter.

I cry each time I see that first beer tilting towards my lips.  All I had to do
was say no.  All I had to do was be strong.  I failed.  I failed myself... and
Dianne.  For one night of fucking I have been granted an eternity of watching her
live from the shadows populated by the damned and foolish.  Three times.  I lost
three load of my own precious seed on that barren field of flesh.  One such load
even found its way into that bitch’s twat.  Perhaps, if she has not fallen dead
somewhere, I have a son or daughter.  I pray this is not so;  no child deserves
to be without a father.  I remember laughing... LAUGHING!!... as she thrusts her
tongue up my asshole.  Sick.  Disgusting.  And I wallowed in the sensation,
enjoying the decadent pleasure.

I am dead.  I often find myself floating over Dianne’s body as she prays to God
to forgive me for what I have done.  I feel the tears which flow down her face,
and curse the day that I betrayed her faith. HE will not forgive me for I cannot
forgive myself.  I lost the one person in my life I would have died for...
smiling the entire time.  I long to touch her... tell her that I am truly sorry. 
That she does not know the decaying of the flesh that I knew is a small victory.

I am dead.  This is my tale.  This is my warning.  Love is the one possession
mankind can hold on to even after death.  Know this... for no wet twat can
replace it.  No blowjob can compare to its eternal power.  Know this... or I
shall see you here... within the shadows.