The ‘Cum Of Life’

“Yooooooooooo! I’m back, my precious babies. Did you all miss me? I know I did. Regina, Prisca, Olive, Mide, Sade, Lateefah, Aisha, Blessing, and of course, my sacred Omo.” He turned round to take a mental look at all the lifeless yet fresh dead bodies arranged in front of him in compartments of seven columns and five rows, with their name tags on the top of their drawers. He was smiling wildly. “I just love working my night shifts. I get to spend quality time with my precious babies.”

He knew he did not need to but he loved to do it all the same. He went round each compartment to mark the attendance of all the dead bodies that were placed under his care– his favorites at least. His favorites comprised all the beautiful and sexy females he had been privileged with the opportunity to attend to in the mortuary he had been working in for the past six months.

His parents and friends had complained to stupor about his decision to work in mortuaries but he had paid them no heed. It was only three years before that he understood why he had always found it hard to get turned on by women. He had initially contemplated the idea that he might have been gay but he had to scratch it out after testing himself.

His lack of sexual appetite or drive slowly became a bother to him until one night after he started working at the new mortuary in the town. He had a friend that was his job plug. He loved to work with dead bodies, but not every dead body. He preferred to work with refined dead bodies because the wealthier the deceased, the more likely they were to have great skin, body, shape, etc. He liked his dead babies to be looking good and healthy.

He remembered when he was about to start working at his most recent office, his mother had cried and begged him to take a more acceptable job. I mean, he did graduate with distinction in Medicine and surgery. If he wanted to, he could practice in prestigious hospitals and establishments but no, her son chose to work in mortuaries. All those years of toiling to train him through the university wasted.

She had cried and bared her chest to try to gain his sympathy, in hopes that a mild threat using her breast milk and aged womb would be enough to coerce him into doing her bidding. She forgot that the new generation of children didn’t care much about superstitions like that. He simply patted her at the back, kissed her forehead, and whispered softly into her hair.

“I will be working night shifts throughout my first month over there. So, you won’t be seeing me much at home. They are a bit shorthanded with staff based on… well, I believe you get me. I love you mom, take care of yourself, and don’t miss your baby too much. Byeeee.”

She watched his silhouette move past her, her bedroom door, the corridor, past the living room and, out the front gates. Her baby had left her yet again to go into his dark and twisted world of attending to dead bodies. She had never met a young person that was that excited to be working and sleeping in the same room with corpses, preserved or not. She sighed heavily, shook her head, and tied her wrapper back across her chest.

***********

He hummed his way as he walked through the halls of the morgue. He was looking for someone, he needed to see her. She was five feet eight inches of pure black beauty. Skin the color and texture of butter, spending time with her promised to be an adventure to him. She had a body that reminded him of a painting that he had seen in an art exhibition he had attended with his ex, Shuntell.

The woman in the painting had two curves ringed together by a tiny waist as her body. Her full breasts, still at attention, threatened to tear through the fabric that sought to cover its beauty. Hips that reminded him of the earthen pots that he saw when he went to visit his grandma in the village the previous year boasted curves that were equal, round, and finely shaped. The African woman was finished off with a beautiful behind that made watermelons shy away in embarrassment when compared.

“Omo has it all and more… She is everything I could ever ask for in a woman and more; beautiful, sexy, attentive, and quiet.”

He got to her cabinet and pulled out her compartment. It was always a sacred ritual to him. He pulled it out slowly, intentionally, building up his expectation which continued to cause his blood pressure to rise exponentially, and then, towards the final lap of his journey of extraction, he held on to the crate handle and pulled it out fast.

He had seen far too many women far too many times to be shocked but he found himself still awed by her beauty. He made a full bow into her bosom to suck her cold nipples. They weren’t like the others that carried the taste and smell of temporary embalming fluids; tasting like rubbing alcohol and smelling like gasoline. How he had survived the smell that long without incurring any health implications still surprised him.

Omo had been brought in five minutes after he had started his night shift that fateful night. He had never expected such a beautiful lady to wind up in a morgue. She seemed too pretty to die, and for the first time since he started paying attention to his weird fetish, he found himself interested in his next partner’s story. He conducted his findings and discovered that she had been in a coma for months.

The ECG waves on her monitor had suddenly gone berserk indicating that abnormal activities were going on in her brain and that was how they realized that she was having a heart attack. They had tried CPR and other forms of resuscitation to bring her back but they had all proved to be fruitless. There was no brain activity. She had been rolled into the morgue after being declared clinically dead by her doctor at 9:45 pm.

One look at the hot corpse and he knew he was going to bang her that night. Crazy as it was, he had discovered that his sexual apathy towards men and women wasn’t because he was asexual like he had feared, but because he had a very weird fetish.

He was sexually attracted to dead women.

Omo was going to be receiving temporary embalming in a few hours after she was declared clinically dead by her doctor when she refused to wake up from her coma of six months. He had to make his move quickly to avoid getting caught in the act.

He didn’t like to get into the details of his sexual counterparts as that demystifies the entire concept of his sexual orientation.

It was the mystery behind the identity of the women and their story that thrilled him into wanting to have sex with them. He had gotten a whiff of Omo’s story and found himself getting entangled in her web.

He had tried hard to ensure he made it to the hospital that night, against the will of fate that threw many obstacles in his way to prevent him from getting to the hospital. He couldn’t explain it but he kept feeling a strong push to be at the morgue that night. At first, he had thought it was simply his hormones speaking. He had been horny for a while after all, but he had not gotten any opening to spend the night with his lovelies in almost a month.

He needed a bang. ASAP.

He had overslept, narrowly escaped a bike accident, and even ran into his ex who was still trying to find ways to get them back together. She had refused to accept that he was no longer interested in her when they did not have any issues before breaking up. Against all odds, he had fought hard to ensure that he made it in time.

He got to the mortuary late that night, receiving curses and glares from his colleague that he was supposed to relieve from his shift. The other guy hated night shifts because he complained many times that he could hear the dead bodies talking to him.

“But guy, you know say you be fuck up guy sha? You suppose don come since, like one hour ago, na now you just dey come. You be fuck up guy, I no go lie.” He dropped the cherry on the ice cream with a very long and heavy hiss and walked out the door briskly, his pace a little short from a run.

***********

He dismissed his flashback with the wave of his hand. Omo was right in front of him, she deserved his full concentration. He licked his lip feverishly. He looked like an armed robber about to steal the priceless jewel inside the lit glass case in a jewel shop. He got working on her body and within minutes his expert hands were discovering new routes on her still body.

He was beyond excited. There was something about her body that seemed to beckon him even deeper. He thought hard about it.

“Maybe it’s because she’s still freshly dead. Her body still feels warm and I find it strange that I like it. I’m used to having intercourse with cold bodies but this… this beats everything I’ve done so far. I-I think I love her. I-I think I’m in love with this Omi girl…”

He stopped touching her and looked at his hands. It suddenly felt like he was doing something wrong like he was violating her body like he was raping her. This was definitely an alien feeling to him. He had never had a problem with thrusting into any of the bodies in the morgue because they were all dead. This girl on the other hand felt different, he felt like he needed consent.

It felt like she was still alive.

“It’s probably the warmth of her body that is toying with my mind right now. There’s no way she’s alive Joshua. So, stop thinking about nonsense right now and get down to business before someone catches you in here.”

He climbed on the metal tray where her body was laid and got a very cold greeting. The crate was very cold because of the freezer that they were using to preserve the dead bodies. He didn’t care about the cold though, he had more important matters to take care of.

Within minutes he quickly found himself a rhythm. He worked his way into her body, thrusting with reckless abandon till he reached the peak of ecstasy, paradise only a push away. Just as he released inside her, Omo’s eyes flung wide open and she sneezed thrice. He froze on the spot, his member still inside her.

“W-Who are you? Where am I? And why the hell are you on top of me?!” She had yelled the last question only a little bit above a whisper. She still couldn’t talk properly. She coughed ceaselessly while glaring at him. She had caught him on top of her. Even worse, inside of her. She was beyond embarrassed.

“I-I’m Jo-Jo-Joshua… I work here. You are currently in OAB’s mortuary department. You were declared clinically dead about ten minutes ago by your doctor, Doctor Faustus. I-I’m s-so-sorry about this whole thing. I don’t know what came over me.”

Disgust flooded her face, she couldn’t believe he was going to give her the ‘it-wasn’t-me-it-was-the-devil’ shit. She had just caught him having sex with her clinically declared dead body and he still had the guts to give her that bant. She hissed heavily and shoved him off her body. He fell more from shock than her shove. A dead woman he was having sex with had just come back to life while he came in her.

“Care to explain why you were on top of me while I was supposed to be dead? I mean, this is a morgue yeah? When did a morgue become a brothel or has the world changed in the few months I was in a coma? Is that the new trend now? Having sex with dead bodies in a mortuary?”

He was still too embarrassed to answer her but he knew he owed her an explanation. It was the least he could do. So, he went ahead to tell her about himself and herself. He told her about how she had gotten into an accident that almost cost her life, how the doctors had tried to stabilize her after which she went into a coma for six months, and how only minutes ago, she had been declared clinically dead after many failed attempts at resuscitating her from her heart attack.

He kept shifting his gaze from her eyes to the floor. The next part was going to be harder to explain, he needed to apply wisdom with his next choice of words. He could literally go to jail for what he just did. He stole glances at her and caught her straight face staring at him, waiting to hear his explanation as to why he was caught on top of her.

“I mean, who has sex with dead bodies in a mortuary?!” She wanted to scream but knew that there was no point attempting that, so she sat as upright as her tired body could try to and made an attempt at crossing her arms under her full breasts. His eyes caught the bulge her action produced and his yogurt slinger responded with an equal bulge. She sat wide-eyed, shocked that he still had the boldness to get a hard-on in the current situation he was in.

He apologized heavily and went on to tell her all about his newly discovered sexual orientation, ending with several consecutive apologies for climbing her body when she was vulnerable. She stayed quiet, obviously digesting all the things she had just heard. It was definitely a mouthful so she took her time ruminating on it. After what seemed like forever, she spoke.

“I see… so you came inside me and I came alive? So what do I call that? The cum of life? This doesn’t even make any sense. I should be angry but honestly, I’m grateful for what you did. I don’t know what exactly you did but I wouldn’t be alive right now if not for you. So… thank you?”

It was definitely not the reaction he had expected. She just found out that he raped her and she was thanking him for it. Definitely not what he had expected. He coughed several times before speaking. He had to. Again, he couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes so he kept his gaze rooted to his shoes and crossed his hands behind him like a student about to make a presentation.

“Well… one thing’s for sure. There is nothing like ‘the cum of life’. I may not look it but I graduated with distinction in Medicine and Surgery so I think I can explain what happened. Now, even though it’s an extremely rare case, I want to believe it’s still plausible. What happened to you is a rare case of something called the ‘Lazarus Syndrome’. You can stop me to ask questions wherever you find confusing okay?”

She nodded briskly, she was beginning to get interested in the doctor rapist that wanted to tell her about a medical condition called the ‘Lazarus Syndrome’. She had always been an inquisitive child so she sat down attentively, ready to receive new knowledge and wisdom from the man in front of her. “Sure, sure. Go on.”

He coughed again and continued his explanation.

“I’ll explain this in the most basic sense so you can understand what I’m saying. Lazarus syndrome is a phenomenon whereby there is a delayed return of spontaneous circulation of blood after CPR has been administered and stopped. In other words, it’s a rare case where a person that has been labeled dead because his heart didn’t respond to CPR immediately after it was administered, comes back to life minutes or even hours after CPR has ceased.”

She still had a confused look on her face so he decided to relate it with something more generic, something that he was sure she would understand.

“Umm… I’m sure you’ve heard of Lazarus in the Bible. He was the brother of Mary and Martha, friends of Jesus.” She nodded twice so he continued.

“The ‘Lazarus syndrome’ was coined from the story of Lazarus who died and resurrected four days afterward.”

“Wait, are you trying to call one of the greatest miracles of my Lord Jesus Christ a mere delayed resuscitation? Are you trying to naturalize an extraordinary feat performed by God?!”

She seemed provoked and he had to calm her down. She still needed intense medical attention, he wasn’t about to kill her from another heart attack.

“No no… that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying the name was coined from it not that that was the theory behind the miracle. I’m a Christian too. I believe in the miraculous acts of God. Besides, Lazarus of Bethany was dead for four days. I’ve not heard of any case that has stayed as long as that. The highest I’ve heard isn’t even up to a day.”

She calmed down and looked a bit sober. She seemed like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. She was suddenly aware of the fact that she was naked in front of a stranger. In a bid to show modesty, she flung her arms across her chest and drew her knees up to her chin.

He understood the motive behind her action and hurriedly used his jacket to cover her up before scurrying off to find her actual clothes. He came back with a dress minutes later and she wore them. They had nothing to say to each other so they averted each other’s gaze, embarrassed for each other. After an eternal silence, she coughed and spoke up.

“So, umm… what now?” He looked at her hard before speaking. “I know I don’t deserve this but first off, I’d like to beg you to not press charges against me. I’m honestly sorry for what I did and in a way, I think this experience has sort of changed my sexual orientation. Embarrassing as it is to say this, that time when my D bulged… it was the first time I would react that way to a living female. I think you cured me.”

She opened her mouth to say something but no words came out, so she snapped it back shut.

“A-Also, I would like to know you omo! I-I would like us to be friends and anything you would like us to be. I know this is very daring of me but it’s how I feel right now.”

She looked at him and smirked. “Are you stylishly asking me out right now? You better be clear with what you want from me. If you ask that we be friends, I’ll fit you into the friend zone nicely and even give you a VIP seat.”

He shook his head vehemently. “I don’t wanna be in the friend zone but I also don’t wanna rush anything. It’s not like we are acting a telenovela so let’s just start slow yeah? Nice to meet you I’m Joshua Cream.”

“Cream? Is that supposed to be a pun right now?” She couldn’t hide her shock. “Lol, It’s the name my father gave me. I’m from Rivers so most of our names are cool like this.” She pouted and ruminated on what he had just told her. After a few seconds, she decided to return the gesture.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m Omozele Ailen.” After which she winked and broke into a laugh. He laughed too because he understood why she had stressed the word ‘pleasure’. Then they both smiled at each other, sure that their nearest future posed a great adventure in each other’s company.