Autoerotic Reconnection

Before Brian died I never thought I would be interested in autoerotic asphyxiation. One single scene in Six Feet Under, where a man died in the act, was enough to scare me straight. Maybe not straight, but it was enough to keep me away from choking my neck while I choked the chicken. Once the only man who could ever love me passed, the little death of an orgasm lost most of the appeal. Spraying my chest with a hot load, emptying my balls, only highlighted how empty I felt in a world without him. The risk that pushed me away from this activity in the past was what drew me to it now. Maybe increasing the taste of death within orgasm will make me feel closer to him. I was so desperate to feel close to him again.

First, I had to consider my methods. Nothing in this cheap ass apartment seemed strong enough to be able to hold my weight and I thought it would be a bit embarrassing if I recreated the Six Feet Under scene too perfectly. I could just hear a smarmy cop making some comment about, "Why didn't anyone tell this pervert to not try that at home?" If I was going to die, so be it, but I refuse to have a death that prompts Dad Cop quips. I looked around the house for how I would do this and found a plastic bag full of other plastic bags. I never really used these for much before but maybe there was a part of me that knew I would do this one day after my city banned plastic bags. I dug through the ratty plastic shopping bags before realizing the best bag of all was the bag holding all the others, nice and thick to keep the air out.

I grabbed the bag and a shoelace as I headed into my bedroom. I took off my shirt and pants, leaving my boxer briefs because I liked the way they felt on my hard cock. I tied the bag around my head before reaching over for my phone to pull up some porn. It didn't take me long to realize that this method was not really conducive to watching anything. I untied the shoelace and pulled up a video of Brian and I fucking near the beginning of the relationship. If all I could do was listen to the moans someone else getting fucked then I felt like there was no other choice but to listen to him.

I tied the shoelace back around my throat and started to listen to his moans through the plastic bag. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the scene that I've watched so many times. I could hear my lips wrap around Brian's cock and his soft moaning. I touched myself over my boxer briefs, feeling my cock stiffen as I could hear Brian's moans get louder.

The bag around my face started to feel more and more enclosed and I took that as a sign to hurry up my activities. I didn't really feel afraid of death at the moment, but that didn't mean that I wanted to die. What I wanted was to be able to imagine a future without this man who was kind and brilliant in a way that made this cruel world feel just a little bit tolerable. Maybe one day this would be a weird story of a kind of fucked up thing I did while stuck in the pits of such a heavy loss. I wanted a story that would make my therapist go "hmmmm" rather than make an obituary writer use some sort of euphemism to describe the nature of my death to my community.

I pulled my pants down and started to stroke myself. I tried to time my strokes with his moans, doing everything I could to take me back to the night of the video. I imagine myself fucking him in the ass and looking out at the beautiful view of the beach through our hotel window. As I furiously rubbed my member I could feel my breath becoming more and more desperate. I continued to masturbate as I started to feel my brain demand more oxygen until everything felt like a blur.

I felt lost in a void until I heard a voice fill the room, "Take that fucking bag off your pretty face, you dramatic bitch."

I couldn't grasp what was happening but I listened to the comforting voice and took the bag off my head. As oxygen returned to my body I struggled to make sense of the being in front of me. Looking at him straight on was like looking at the old him in my peripheral vision when he was alive. This was Brian, or maybe some sort of echo of him, the mark that he wasn't ready to leave this world, to leave me.

"Fuck," I moaned, not in a fun way time, "Does this mean I had a fucking death that all the Dark Humor Dads will be quipping about?"

The echo of my lover responded, "No, thank God. No, wait. Fuck God, I did that. You got close enough that you started to enter this layer of existence but I was able to wake you. I was trying to enjoy the show but then it started to feel like one of those shows that was planned to be five seasons but we only got one. I want to see the whole story, dammit, you think just because I'm gone you can throw your life away?"

I paused, taking all of this information in. I started to cry and pushed my words out, "This wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to be here and now you're not. I don't know how to imagine the future without you. When I try I don't imagine the worst scenario anymore, instead it's just nothing. I just don't know what it looks like at all and that is so scary. I am so afraid of a world that I cannot predict."

"I know honey, but your life has so much value beyond our relationship. I know this is a hard time and your brain is stuck in the old patterns but I need you to hold on. I want this to be a weird thing you did in desperation. If you die, I die again. I want you to live because I feel sorry for the world that would have to live without you but also for these selfish reasons. You are still here and I can continue to live through you. The stories you tell about me, the habits of mine that squirreled their way into your own, and the pics you share from our active alcoholism days. And like come on, you deserve a better death than that fucking dickhead kid from that Robin Williams movie."

I paused again, "Babe, please slow down. I cannot keep track of everything your saying right now."

"I'm sorry, I just don't know how much longer we have. I don't want you doing that again if you can help it, I don't want you thinking this is a way to connect to me, it's not. I don't know how much longer my uh whatever this is will still be here. Maybe my spirit will move on know that your embarrassing me with this suicidal masturbator act. Sorry, I know you're in pain and are desperate not to feel it. Like this is ridiculous, but you have plenty of reasons to be a little ridiculous right now. I want you to feel the pain, because that's how you will move on. Do what you have to manage it but this is maybe a bit counterproductive. Be the messiest bitch who ever bitched, please be my guest, but I would prefer you found a way to do that where you didn't die. I just want you to live while you can and maybe I will see you again. Who knows. I'm dead and I don't even fucking know."

I sighed, "Yeah, I guess that's fair. I just miss you is all. You must miss me too if you're watching me jack off from beyond the grave. Sorry, I wasn't performing up to your standard. I didn't know I had an audience. This begs the question, can ghosts fuck? I'm still kind of horny and you're here."

"Ugh I wish. I can't even tug myself anymore, I was enjoying it in more of an art appreciation way. I always thought ectoplasm was ghost cum that I could cover you in but that must be something else because I'm severely lacking in cum."

I laughed, "Well, there are ways we could have fun without ghost cum, as much as I would've loved that."

"Of course you would, you little freak. I know how much you loved it when I would finish on your cock, how it would throb each time it was gifted a new rope. I remember the ecstasy on your face as you covered yourself in both of our fluids."

"Oh, fuck. I guess we're getting right to it.," I said as I threw the bag off the bed and out of sight.

I must've lost my erection when I almost died, but the memories of getting fucked by my lover filled my cock until it was rock hard with a garnish of precum shining on the tip.

I started to stroke myself as I said, "You're one to talk. I remember that time where we had Ron over for your birthday and watching you cum all over yourself as Ron railed you and you sucked me off. I loved watching you writhe around the bed while I filled your mouth."

Brian sighed without breath, "Fuck, that was a good birthday. Remember when we went to the beach for your birthday, but it was December and freezing. The cold wind was so unpleasant and I was trying so hard not to complain on your birthday, so instead I wrapped my arms around you to keep you warm. Your hot breath on my neck felt so good in such a harsh environment and I craved more so I slipped my tongue in your mouth so I could swallow your warmth. Remember I tried to suck you off and we were both just miserably cold? So instead we laid down in the sand facing each other, sharing our warmth and rubbing our cocks together. The lube was chilling at first, but it was worth it so I could feel you rub against you as I got lost in the warm comfortable feeling. I loved being face to face with you, watching your expression as I slid myself all over your cock. When I noticed you were about to finish, I braved the cold and swallowed your hot cum, your warmth sliding down to my core and keeping me comfortable while we walked back to the car."

I let the memory consume me. I could feel tension start to build inside me. I remember holding gloved hands on a cold beach. I remember feeling his body pressed up against mine, desperate to share heat. If I really thought about it I could still feel his erection against my leg all of these years later. I remember how he tasted as I inhaled the ocean air mixed with his comforting body odor. I remember sliding our cocks together in the pocket of heat between us. As I relived spraying each other with cum I felt the present pressure release. My body twisted with pleasure, so out of control that each rope landed in another corner of the room.

I laid there, trying to catch my breath and noticed that I could no longer feel Brian's presence. Even without him, I still felt so full at this moment. After collecting myself I looked around for the stray cum shots. In one corner of the room I found a shirt of Brian's that I didn't notice since he passed. I walked back to my bed before pressing the shirt on my face and the scent on his gym shirt filled my nose. I put the shirt loosely over my face and fell asleep.