'And as we pass our dear friend Geoff into the Lord's care, let us take a moment to reflect on the good times spent with him...'
Emily could feel the wetness between her legs, and shifted uncomfortably.
'Geoff was a keen fisherman...'
Christ, there's nothing worse than an itch you can't scratch.
'...a devoted father, husband...'
Trickling down her inner thigh now. Her knickers must be sodden.
'...is death the end? For our physical selves, yes. But the spirit lives on...'
Emily could take it no longer. Funerals made her horny. Excusing herself, she retreated outside and frigged herself stupid.