Unlife as a skeleton was boring, to say the least. Ever since that necromancer had raised him three centuries ago, Ramses' life was a series of clacks and creaks, trying to be the scariest skeleton he could be to please his master. Unfortunately, his master had died several decades ago. Ramses didn't know what caused his death, but it must have been some disease because there was an awful lot of coffin. Since then, he and his other skeletal compatriots had wandered around the crypt aimlessly, guarding forgotten treasures. 

Ramses couldn't remember his life before death terribly well. He thought he might have been a druid, or an author. Whatever he had been, the joys of living were now lost to him. Sure, not needing to eat or use the bathroom was nice, but endless skulking didn't lend itself to a good time. If there was one regret he unlived with, it was not having enough sex. He looked around at his fellow skeletons - complacent, sorrowful. Those forlorn groans, the shambling gait, those slender spines and voluptuous pelvises... An idea came to mind. 

He called together the inhabitants of the crypt, twenty undead in total, and gathered them in the atrium. "Alright you numbskulls, we've been decaying in this crypt for generations. Frankly, I'm getting bored of it." There were spattered clacks of agreement throughout the assembly. "But just your luck, we've got the means to re-experience the one benefit of flesh: sex." The crowd responded more enthusiastically than expected, apparently they hadn't been happy with their situation either. With his band of skeletons in agreement, they began to rib up a plan. 

They'd need a fleshbag, preferably a younger one, from one of the local villages. They would also require four thrice-hewn pine branches from the nearby wood, and the blood of a wolfhound. As his cohorts set off gathering the required ingredients, Ramses carved the necessary sigils in a circle on the dirt of the atrium. Shortly before he had finished, two arrived with the pine branches, which he stuck at angular points around the circle, clacking out an incantation of consecration. Finally, the remainder arrived with a vial of blood and the fleshbag. She had a marrow frame, with surprisingly little excess flesh. Her clavicle-length hair was the color of dry mud, and her mouth flesh flapped about in a string of obscenities. Ramses would have preferred a larger fleshbag, but this one would do.

With everything in place, the ritual commenced. A chorus of clacking sounded the chant, as the fleshbag writhed against her bonds in the center. The pine branches exploded in a blaze of fire, and the sigils glowed with a faint red. As the flames subsided, the chant reached its end. Had it worked? He certainly didn't feel any different. He put a hand to his pelvis in exasperation, before pulling it back with a clack. He had felt it! Each prod of his skeletal frame was met with the sensations he vaguely remembered of skin. Looking at the gathered throng exploring themselves, he knew that the ritual had worked exactly as planned. This was going tibia fun night.

Only one last thing to do, he figured. Ramses picked up a radius from a non-unliving comrade and wedged it into place on his pelvis, instructing the male skeletons among them to do the same. The feel of his hands upon it suddenly clicked into place as the magic spread, and for the first time in centuries Ramses felt his boner. The others began to act likewise, female skeletons rubbing their pubis in earnest. "Alright you marrowbrains!" Ramses shouted over the cacaphony "Let's bone!" A short cheer arose, and the skeletons moved into position.

Two male skellies paired themselves with a female, plunging their attached rods into her pelvic aperture with abandon. Another was on her knees in front of a male, who shouted out occasional cries of 'Gnaw on it!' Ramses himself found a male with an impressive ribcage, rubbing his long radial dick against the other's sternum. A female partnered with another and moved about on top. Ramses figured she must have died a virgin because her idea of proper intercourse was riding about on the male's femur. A pair of females were well underway, the taller one grinding on top. "Yeah, let me feel your hot sacrum! My Ilia are moving on their own!"

Nearby, a skeleton groped tentatively on the fleshbag, feeling around for areas of interest. Ramses looked on in shock. "Miko, you're lying with the fleshbag?" Miko paid little mind. "Hey, don't judge man," he positioned his bone-phallus against the meatform's labia. "five centuries ago you'd have been all over a woman like this." Ramses clacked in disapproval and returned to grinding against his partner's manly chest. The fleshbag, for her part, was still writhing against the straps holding her, though it was difficult to tell whether it was from fear, pain, or pleasure.

Soon the crypt was echoing clacks of pleasure and the low grinding sound of bone against bone. Each skeleton was reveling in the sensation save a lone female, who had nobody to have sex with. She could have joined one of the numerous pairings, but she simply didn't have the guts. Eventually another noticed her predicament and drew her atop his partner, grinding against her sultry vertebrae. Even though Ramses was enjoying himself, he noticed he didn't feel any closer to a tipping point. The thought of finally having sex after all these years and not orgasming was rather humerus, but daylight would be coming soon and he'd need to put an end to the fun eventually.

With a short incantation, Ramses brought the binding spell to an end. He, along with the other skeletons, gave a din of clacks and cackles as their sensations drew to a climax, tapering off as quickly as they had formed. With the spell done, Ramses' faux-phallus fell from his pelvis. The skeletons slowly unentangled themselves, standing around the atrium as the sigils' glow ceased. With a great amount of skull, they managed to remove the fleshbag's binds. She had apparently passed out some time ago, and Ramses was reminded of a few benefits to not having skin. A few skeletons bemoaned the end of their fun, many were quite content to enjoy what few sensations they could. Perhaps, thought Ramses, with enough practice he could perform the spell without material components. A grin, or what he could manage without lips, passed across his skull. Well, while he was getting that practice it would be a wild ride for all of them.

And the ride never ends.