The Dead can feel You

Tell No Soul

The groan that left the body under him scared him half to death.
He tensed up, sitting himself down on soviets cock much faster than he would have otherwise.
The light pain in his ass was nothing compared to the sudden,  second long terror he felt at that moment.
Was Soviet dead? He had to be, he had been dead for a few hours at this point.

His knees pressed into the dead man's hips, his hole subconsciously trying to adjust to soviets dick despite America's fear.

He stared down at the disfigured face if the man he hated, holding his breath.
Nothing.
No other movement Indicated he was alive.
There wasn't a chance soviet could be alive, not being so cold. Right?
He vagly remembered a fact about corpses, and how they dispelled air though their mouths. That had to be what that was.
He was getting himself worked up for nothing.

Not that the way his heart sped up, and that slight hint if fear didn't arouse him more. We don't talk about that however.

America relaxed after a few moments, sure that soviet wouldn't move. A corpse can't move.
He decided he wanted to continue instead of getting off and pretending this never happened, pressing back against Soviets body more firmly, getting all he could fit on his own inside so he knew what he was working with.

The extra half inch that pressed inside felt much better than the rest did going in, almost pressing against something inside him.
He leaned back, using soviets cold, stiff thighs to hold himself up. With a softer groan of his own he rolled his head back, closing his eyes. Oh he liked this.
This was much better than last time.
This time he was in control, and no one telling him to stop. No drugs, no alcohol, just a body on the floor.
This was much better.
America rolled his hips, gasping softly as soviets stiff cock offered hardly any resistance, letting his insides rub smoothly around it.

He tensed up again when the body shifted under him, snapping his head to look back down at soviet.
"Mnn.." the body offered no other movement.
His remaining eye stared grey and lifeless at the ceiling above them both. Soviets bloodied mouth parted slightly, enough for air to get though.
Nothing else had changed.
America sighed, rolling his head back again and smacking the corpses thigh.

"Dont scare me like that commie, or I might think you're alive or something!"
The chuckle that left him sounded strained, an awkward conversation dissolver.
Except this wasn't a conversation.  This was him defacing the corpse of his enemy. Defialing it in such a way that of anyone were to find out about this, he would be ruined.
He swallowed dryly, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments.
What was he doing?
Did he really want to do though with this?
He was already here. And his own body heat was starting to make soviets cock feel more like it was a living person's.
He could stop. He could walk away from this like it never happened. No one would know. He knew that.
Thats also why he didn't want to stop. He was already enjoying this, why would he ever need to stop? He could fuck the man under him until his corpse started rotting.
It was justified, wasn't it? All the shit soviet put him though, the constant annoyance, and don't even get him started on the fucking space race.
This was payback for the cold War, and his economy falling. Yes, this was his payback. Something only he could have.

America lifted himself up partially, catching a moan in his throat As soviets cock slid inside him. Fuck, that actually felt good 
He inhailed, pressing his hips back down. Stuffing The dead slavs rigamortis stiffened meat back inside him.
"Mh- Fuck Commie~ never knew you felt good like this. All those years- watching you-"
He held onto soviets thighs more firmly, rolling his hips to start moving soviet inside of him more.
"-when I could have been Fucking you instead!"