Dante yawned, leaning against one of the gravestones in the wide expanse of grass, the small monoliths jutting out from the ground like small trees. He twiddled his thumbs and thought for the hundredth time why on Earth he had accepted this job. Grave keeper mostly gave someone a mental image of a creepy old man who often says things like, “this way, my pretties” or “I’ve got a bone to pick with you” to anyone who wanders by. Instead, Dante was the kind of person who, when seeing some innocent teenagers walking near the graveyard, would either completely ignore them and try to look busy…keeping grave, or whatever. Alternatively, if one of them happened to be female and attractive, he would keep his head down so that his long hair fell over his eyes, making it seem like he can’t see, and watch their wonderful, jiggling chest as they came, and gaze spellbound at their swaying, undulating asses as they went. He shivered with the memories, his cock throbbing unconsciously, his body warming up as thoughts of the various beauties paraded through his mind. A tendril of drool decided upon a small journey, ignored by the rest of the body, which had suddenly started thinking with its cock, not its brain. Read more…