You weren't exactly sure what to think when Jerome said he wanted to visit his mother's grave in the dead of night with you. You knew how much he loathed his mother, and the mere subject of her was enough to leave a bad taste in his mouth, but you decided to just go along with it, thinking it was better to do that than to ask questions when it came to the ginger so you followed his lead as he practically dragged you out of your bed one night, taking you to meet his mom, of all people.

There was a fair chill in the air as you walked through the cemetery, scuffing your boots through abandoned piles of leaves scattered across the ground. Your breath hung in misty clouds before your face every time you exhaled, and you shuddered, fists bunched into the pockets of your coat.

Despite the thickness of your coat, you still felt the bite of the cold night air, chill seeping into your bones, and you started to wonder why you agreed to visit a graveyard with a ginger at a time like this.

"Here lies the piece of shit that was my mother," he said as he presented her tombstone to you, the corners of his mouth lifting as he examined it in amusement. "I only come here to dance on her grave."

You weren't sure how to reply so you smiled lightly in response, fearful that if you said the wrong thing it would possibly trigger him to lash out at you. As you were still working out what to say, the next thing you knew he spit on her gravestone, uttering a dark chuckle afterwards, and your eyes widened a little when you saw his saliva splash on it.

"Your turn, now," he turned to you with a broad grin on his face, his eyes twinkling as he cackled.

You nodded your head before you took a daring step towards the headstone and spit back at it. Though he didn't seem to approve of it very much because he rolled his eyes the second you did. You sighed, sending another gust of warm breath spinning out into the air, hanging thick and white in its wake. Usually when people visited cemeteries, it was because they wanted to seek solace from a loved one, maybe ask for advice, and just have someone listen to them that they knew loved them unconditionally, but this was not the case with Jerome, no, of course not.

"Again, this time with more force, this fucking bitch made my life a living hell and that's all you could do?" he barked out, growling and muttering under his breath at your pathetic attempt.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," you answered meekly before you gathered all the spittle you could in your mouth, and then you released it on the headstone, making burst in a fit of maniacal laughter.

"That's better," he whistled before he walked closer to the gravestone, bending his body over as he looked at it with a cold stare, "in memory of the fucking bitch who I only wish I could see again just so I could kill her again and again and again," he continued to laugh, and you joined in with him because you knew if you didn't he was going to tell you to.

"You can't tell me to do fucking shit now. So who won? I did, and now you smell like rat shit while I get to do whatever the fuck I want when I want without you to hold me back," he started, words laced with venom, "you're going to be a pile of bones soon, and it's going to make you look the prettiest you've ever been."

You stood by his side, just listening, unsure if he wanted you to add something in or if he just wanted you to hear his speech.

"Who's the piece of shit now, bitch?" he questioned, laughing all the while like this was the funniest thing, being able to unleash everything he ever wanted to say to his mother. "Nobody misses ya, not even Sheeba. You're exactly where you belong, my only regret is not having killed you sooner, the look of horror on your face was so fucking priceless because of how pathetic you were, how you didn't see it coming in the slightest, so happy that you're finally taking a dirt nap, it was exactly what you deserved, and that's all I've gotta say," he rasped, giving himself a short breather before he continued, "oh and one more thing, I brought a special someone out here to meet you, and I'm going to show you exactly how much she means to me."

With that, he yanked you close to his body before he crashed his lips against yours, which you almost immediately melted in when you returned it, feeling the crisp air encircle your bodies as he pressed you tight to his chest.

"What do you say?" he questioned against your lips, "Sex on the bitch's grave? Sounds like it'd be fun, right?"

"This is crazy," you replied before you kissed and nipped at his lower lip, "but yes, let's do it," you agreed, not giving much rational thought to his twisted idea. Your lips met in a heated kiss, your hands settling on his shoulders as his own gripped at your hips.

"Oh, but you loved it," he replied around a growl as he pushed into you, deepening the kiss to trail his tongue along yours, losing himself in your taste before retreating. He pulled back, a wide smirk on his face when you so eagerly pursued him, your tongue stroking against his in his warm mouth while you swallowed one another's moans as your passionate lip-lock continued.

The next thing you knew he was guiding you to the ground upon the blades of grass atop of his mother's grave, easing his body onto yours and pressing himself into you. You were both laughing breathlessly in the other's mouth, about how crazy this all was. You didn't expect that you would be ever having sex in a graveyard but here you were, about to do it, where you two could easily be seen if someone was out to pay a visit to one of their loved ones, but there was a thrill to it, a thrill that you couldn't help wanting to explore with the ginger.

"I can't believe we're doing this, we need to hurry before we get caught," you said with a soft giggle, and he chuckled in response, not caring in the slightest if you did get caught, that was the excitement to it.

"Hurry? I thought you said you liked it when I took my time," he teased, making you snort in response.

"Yeah, but that's usually when we're in the comfort of our own house, not when we're on your mother's grave," you retorted, and he laughed before he hooked his fingers beneath the material of your skirt and panties while you shifted your hips, pulling them down until they pooled around your ankles. Your breath hitched when his hands moved to spread your legs apart, allowing him more room.

He pressed his fingers against the newly exposed skin which instantly drew a gasp from your parted lips. He started to swirl his thumb against your clit slowly, lightly, and your hips instinctively jerked with the movement, and the gesture made his lips stretch into a vile smirk.

"Well you know how I like to find other places to fuck you, and I thought this was quite romantic, wouldn't you agree?" he breathed the question out against your ear before he tugged on the lobe with his hot mouth, sucking and nipping at the skin.

"Nice attempt but no," you replied with a short puff of a laugh. He started brushing his fingers against your sex in swift, tight circles to get you going before he parted your folds, and you tilted your head back which made him lean in close to your neck, lapping at your skin in a rhythm to match that of his digits as they glided along to your entrance and then back again, coating them with your arousal. Your hips responded before you could even think, rolling back and forth against the tips of his hands as much as you could before he finally sunk two long fingers inside of your aching heat, crooking and curling them just so, splaying apart and scissoring to stretch your walls.

"You're already wet for me, hm, looks like this excites you just as much, eh dollface?" he asked around a dark chuckle but whatever words you were about to say in return to that comment were swallowed by a soft gasp, your legs quivering because of the effect his touch had on you. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, glistening nearly black. He was humming appreciatively at the sight of his fingers pumping slowly enough to have you moaning in both frustration and pleasure. He curled the digits up into you as far as he could, a hand gripping your right hip, tugging it forward so your clit made contact with his palm. You just focused on the sensation, rocking your hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

"Jerome," you whined lowly in your throat, and the sound merely amused him. The grass beneath you was constantly brushing against your body, and it was slightly uncomfortable but all you could focus on was the pleasure his fingers provided, and nothing else seemed to matter, especially with the way he was pressing them in further as if he wasn't deep enough. He was driving you mad with his frantic attentions, pulling all sorts of sounds from your mouth as your fingers messily carded through ginger hair and occasionally tugging when he touched you just right. He was able to start pumping faster due to how slick you were, he had a rhythm going and you always loved just how passionate he could be about fucking you with his fingers. There was a dull tingle spreading up and down your entire body, your spine shuddering and ears buzzing, the pulsing walls of your sex quickening, building to your climax.

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed a sigh, the pace of your hips speeding up as you moved down on his slick and skilled fingers, stifling your moans by biting on your lower lip.

"Wanna hear you, let me hear every pretty little sound, okay?" he murmured as he slithered his tongue around your bottom lip slowly which almost immediately made you gasp and release your teeth from it. "No one's going to catch us."

He withdrew his fingers from your entrance all of a sudden, and you whined in the back of your throat before he started rolling his fingers back and forth upon your swollen clit, the sensation rippling through you as you moaned loudly. He pressed them into you as he continued his circular motions with a pressure that made your whole body scream. His cock was straining against his pants, so swollen and stiff underneath that it was becoming almost unbearable.

"Fuck me, please, I need you, just get inside me dammit," you pleaded breathlessly, legs quivering more than ever now as your whole body was covered in goose-flesh due to the chill of the night surrounding you, but you didn't mind, as long as he was buried inside of you, keeping you warm. The frustrated groan that rumbled through you made him smile, your impatience for him was endearing. You wanted more, needed more, you were starving for the feeling of his skin on yours. His name shuddered through you as your veins caught fire and muscles tightened until it felt like you would break apart from the tension.

"If I didn't need you so much, I'd make you beg for making such demands, but I'm feeling generous today," he cooed. His trousers and boxers were already pushed down to his knees. He climbed up your body to hover over you, eyes locking with yours, heated gaze shining as they always did. Without a second thought you wrapped your bare legs around his slim hips and placed your hands on his shoulders. He started rubbing the head of his cock against your clit before sliding it downwards, and you could feel a bead of his pre-come drizzling down upon your sex which made you lift your hips upward instantly, shivering violently as you ground down.

He lined himself up with your soaked entrance as his hand wrapped around his member, and in one thrust he pushed himself inside of you, forehead pressed against yours as you both moaned in unison. He watched the way your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth dropped open. You arched your back off the grass, nails dragging down the taut muscles of his shoulders as both of his hands settled at your hips and yanked you closer to him so that you were tight against his body. He kept still as he felt the walls of your sex adjust to him and with his firm grip on your hips he started to roll his own against yours at a slow pace, building up a rhythm, pulling in and out, watching you moan and hiss with each thrust.

He pushed and pushed before he slid his hips back to surge forward. When he was seated deep within you, your nails sharply dug into his shoulders and you whimpered loudly, the sound echoing in the cemetery. He grunted as he pulled back, just far enough to let the tip of him tease you, and then slammed right back in. At your choked gasp, he set a steady pace that had both of you holding each other tight. You were gasping for breath and keening his name which had him throbbing inside of your warmth. The heat was intoxicating and your body accepted him completely, like he was made for you and you were meant for him.

You both slid together, lower bodies slick with sweat and trading quick, hot kisses between gasps, swallowing each strangled sound as your bodies rammed in to each other. His hips shifted and rocked into you faster and harder, low grunts pouring from his throat and higher whimpers spilling from your lips from the intense pleasure. The slap of your bodies seemed to fill the air along with the wind groaning with every heavy thrust of his hips. His heavily lidded eyes were locked to your face, tracing every shift of your features and drinking it up.

His hips slammed into you relentlessly and your heels dug into his back as you squirmed and writhed underneath him. He rolled his hips with powerful strokes, feeling your moan rumble through your chest as your nails raked up and down on his shoulders in repeated, frantic motions, bunching up his sweater. When he finally parted from your lips, your breaths were coming faster and harder, growing increasingly more ragged with each and every drive forward of his demanding pace. He pushed to the hilt, savoring those silken, warm, and wet walls. Your mewls encouraged him to keep going, to hold out as long as he could but it was becoming more and more difficult as he started twitching violently inside of your wet heat.

Your head fell back, pitched moans rising higher and higher as you desperately followed his rhythm. You didn't care if someone saw you, all you could focus on now was chasing release, and you were so close, fluttering madly around his turgid length. His skin was tingling all over, electrifying the pulses of heat spreading across his abdomen.

You reached your hand down between where your bodies joined to trace rapid, tight circles across your aching clit, sliding your fingers up and down at a feverish pace as you met every harsh, impatient thrust of his hips.

"Fuck, I just love watching you touch yourself while I fuck you senseless," he said, his low baritone filled with guttural want, the punishing force of his thrusts only made you cry out louder, your climax approaching fast as you added pressure to the swollen nub, your body burning from the inside out. "That's it, babygirl, come, come just for me."

"Jerome!" you cried, his name fell off of your lips as his hands gripped your hips that much tighter, keeping you locked in place as he could feel himself reaching his peak. You swayed your clit back and forth, desperately and blindly seeking release in your hazed state.

"Yes, just like that," he encouraged you, his voice needy with release. "That's it, you're perfect, keep going,"

You were shuddering and panting out his name mixed with obscenities as your toes curled in the grass, walls clenching his member. You couldn't stop trembling underneath him as his hips tilted and bumped into yours.

"Yes, yes, oh Jerome," you whined. He couldn't stop, wouldn't stop for anything. He needed this, needed you so bad. He was desperate for it, to hear your cries and feel you all around him. You squeezed him so deliciously tight, arching your back and opening your mouth wide.

"Come on, come for me, babygirl," he urged. His hips were slowly losing a coherent rhythm, just thrusting into you to chase the feeling. Your keen was high and piercing in his ears as you clamped down on him, your pleasure washing over you. He slammed into you once, then twice, and finally buried himself deep within and groaned low in his throat before his climax overtook him.

He collapsed on top of you, chests heaving and bodies twitching after your intense climaxes. You listened to his heavy breaths that mingled with your own while the wind whistled as the leaves blew in the cold air, and after you both gave your bodies a long moment to relax, you two started laughing.

"Well that sure was something," you said around a soft pant, your heartbeat slowly going back to normal. "You gave a whole new meeting to taking a girlfriend to meet the mother," you joked, which made him emit a laugh as he removed himself from your body to tug his pants and underwear back up.

Your legs were wobbly when you got up from the ground and he helped pull your skirt along with your panties back in place, smiling at you all the while when he did.

"You smell like grass," he quipped when he moved in close to get a whiff of your scent, and you snorted a laugh in response.

"Yeah, because of you, meanie, you brought me out here," you nudged your elbow against his chest before you started to walk away, though you were still shaky in your movements. "I need a shower," you whispered under your breath as you started to leave the cemetery.

Jerome stood behind, turning to face his mother's headstone, smirking with a cold look in his eyes when he read the engraving: Her life a beautiful memory, her absence a silent grief.

"Jerome? Come on! It's cold out here, I wanna go home," you called out from a distance.

"Coming!" he answered back before he gave one long look at the gravestone, rolling his eyes at the words carved on it before he made his way back to you.