It’s been about a week since Ghostboy visited you, and it’s been hard to think about anything else. His full-body ectoplasm bath and massage still lingers in your mind. And the cool but musky scent of it still lingers in your nose. Today, however, you came home to a white, slightly glowing splotch on your bedroom window. You take it as a sign. You hope it’s a sign.

It’s hard to calm down enough to get yourself to bed at all, but you manage it somehow. When you wake up, it’s to his smug little face floating over you once again. Before he can even say anything, you’re already stuffing your face into his oversized sack, fondling it with both hands. It smells as deliciously musky as you remember; there’s no way you’re not addicted to the scent at this point.

He gives a quick yip of surprise, before turning smug again. He says he was going to ask if you enjoyed last time, but clearly you did. He wants to go again, but this time he wants you to help out a little. He asks you if you want another day as his host, and you enthusiastically agree, still getting your fill of his fat balls. They’re mailable and fuzzy and pleasantly cool, and feel great to knead… you ask him if you can use them as your pillow, and he thinks it’s a great idea.

You might be spoiled on pillows now. Your old memory foam pillow can't possibly compare to the soft, squishy, smelly sack of ectoplasmic ball batter. You're back to sleep in no time, dreaming of feeling it fill and empty again.

***

You wake to the soothing feeling of a full-body rub-down. Ghostboy has taken possession of your body again, and it’s wrapped in the cool, stretchy, slimy mass of his body. You missed this feeling, and Ghostboy knows it. You can feel the stress flowing out of your muscles… and given how much attention he’s giving both your cock and his, it’s only a matter of time until ecto-goop starts flowing out too.

It’s an incredible double sensation, even better than you remembered. Not only are you feeling Ghostboy’s insides giving you a lotion-y ecto-massage on your shaft, you also feel Ghostboy stroke his own hyper ghost-cock with both of your hands. There’s no way you can last long against the erogenous assault, and you cum; just like last time though, no semen comes out, and you don’t stain your bedspread.

No, Ghostboy decides that’s his job.

A deluge of ecto-cum spurts from the oversized ethereal cock in front of you, and oh is it ever nice to feel that doubled orgasm again. You’re simultaneously feeling Ghostboy’s fat fuzzy balls emptying through his oversized fuckrod and your own cum filling them back up! Glowing blue-white goop sprays from his giant tip, painting your ceiling and splattering every surface in your bedroom. Gallons upon gallons of slime form thick puddles, almost piles, on your floor, and you get several thick ropes all over your (and his) chest and face. The cool, musky smell you know and love suffuses your nostrils, and you almost cum again just from the scent. Ghostboy doesn’t fail to notice.

He holds your hand out in front of your face. It has a substantial glob of ectoplasm on it. He brings your hand closer and you feel yourself take a deep sniff. Your arousal peaks to new heights as Ghostboy’s scent, musk and night air and an otherworldly perfume you can’t quite place, becomes all you can think about. Your cock, still wrapped in ghost-flesh, feels unyieldingly hard, yet so sensitive that a stiff breeze could set you off.

Then Ghostboy moves your hand to your mouth, and your obedient tongue laps up some of the goop stuck to it. It tastes like sweet 3 AM water and a deliciously thick chowder. Somehow it has both a refreshing chill and a soothing warmth, and you feel both sensations in your body and in your soul as you struggle to swallow the slime. It sticks to the inside of your mouth but feels wonderfully slick on your tongue and throat. The myriad of sensations pushes you over the edge, and you feel yourself cumming again, handsfree. Ghostboy’s balls refill just a bit more, and you can feel his satisfaction. And his smugness.

He remarks that you really are addicted to his ghost goop, cumming just from the taste and smell of it. He didn’t even have to control your mouth at all, the licking and swallowing was all you. You feel your embarrassment rise up at that revelation, but Ghostboy snuffs it; your eagerness just makes you more desirable, according to him.

He also remarks that if you like his ecto-cum that much, you’re in luck. He’s been saving his loads up for today, in preparation for some fun. Given how over-sensitive your own cock is though, he might end up with more overstuffed balls by day's end than he started with! He says he'll have to step up his game if you’re going to fill him up so good every time.

He gives his transparent shaft a couple idle strokes, and that combined with the implications of what he just said to you sends you over the edge again. His nuts swell just a bit more, and you can feel an eager smile split his face, matching your own.

***

You actually protest a little when Ghostboy starts dragging you towards the shower. You just got a nice coating of ghost lotion and you’d rather not wash it off. He says not to worry about that unless your shower dispenses holy water.

As warm non-holy water starts cascading over your shared body, you already know that Ghostboy has plans. When you showered with him on before, it had been… nice. Interesting. You hadn’t had much time to appreciate it while being constantly rubbed to orgasm, but the water sort of… passes through him, leaving behind pleasant tingles.

However, it also passes through his cum, which is still all over him. While he moves you through your cleaning routine (pausing to give his protruding ass a squeeze. Then reach through his maleable ghost flesh and squeeze yours too), the ghost cum… isn’t really washing off. He’s just sort of spreading it all across his furry ethereal body while he lathers your physical one with soap. Then he announces that he needs more body wash, and starts stroking out another shot of spooge. You cum together, again, and he points his cock directly at your face, getting you both covered in ecto-juices. You can feel him lathering it into his fur overtop the soap on your body. When he’s done getting you clean and himself dirty, he guides you both out of the shower, then looks in the mirror. You look… like you usually do after you get out of the shower. Maybe with a bit more of a dopey, blissed out grin on than usual. But layered over you is him, and he looks slick. Slippery. Almost oiled up. He feels himself up a little with your hands, and you can feel it on your own skin as well as his. There’s still a little cum dripping from him and getting on your bathroom floor.

Then he does something unexpected. He schlorps off your body and floats in front of you, looking you in the eye and still dripping with ectoplasm.

He gives you a command:

“Smell yourself.”

You do. You still smell like him, like his delicious nutsludge. He says that no one who can’t see ghosts will be able to smell it, but you can’t wash it off without exorcism tools. It’ll evaporate eventually, but with the amount he’s lathered on both of you, it’ll take weeks. If he keeps visiting you like this, you might smell this way all the time. He asks you if you’d like that.

You lean forward and hug him. His slick fur and goopy body feel good to squeeze, like a perverse gel toy. You tell him that you would, in fact, love that. His dick is poking out between your chests, and you give it a kiss on the tip, making it give a little extra spurt on your face. You lick up the bits that land near your mouth, and when you look to his face he’s smiling smugly again.

He tells you that you’ll have time to play with him later, and right now, it’s still his turn. He grabs you by the cheeks and mashes his face into yours. At first you think he’s kissing you, but instead he schlorps over you once again, assuming direct control. Your full-body massage resumes, and you feel your next orgasm start building.

You want to ask him something, and he seems to know it. You feel your own brow raise in question, and he lets you use your mouth. You ask him if it feels good when you play with his little ghost tail thing. He laughs and says yes, if you do it right. He adds that he'll show you later and gives your dick a squeeze through his. You start filling his balls up again.

***

You have today off from work, and had originally planned to get some errands done. Ghostboy doesn't intend to derail your plans. Just... modify them a little.

Your first stop, after getting some cereal and milk for breakfast, was the laundromat. Ghostboy lets you have control of your arms back while you sort your clothes. He doesn't let you have control of your face though, which is good because he’s using his own arms to pleasure himself, and you would rather not moan and gasp in front of the other laundromat patrons. The outside observer would see nothing out of the ordinary, but whenever you look down, guided by your full body masturbator, you see his ghostly arms in addition to your own. Combined with Ghostboy’s spectral musk and oversized package, he makes you look and smell like a perverse 4-armed deity. The thought pushes you over the edge again, and your hands shake a little from the feeling.

He whispers in your ear, teasing you with how much you’re enjoying this; how overwhelmingly good you feel, cumming your brains out in public. He’s the same, of course. Knowing everyone is watching but no one can see is a delightful little secret for both of you, and sharing it only amplifies the thrill. 

He chooses this moment to inform you that there might be a few people who can smell his musk. Normally it’d be as imperceptible as he is, but he’s laying it on you so thick that even people who aren't supernaturally attuned might be able to smell it, just a little. Not enough to give the game away, of course, but enough that it’ll probably be part of “your scent” from now on.

That little hint, that extra bit of the unreal creeping into the normal, sends pleasant shivers up your spine. He knows you like it, and wants to make it a little stronger. So as you measure out detergent, he adds some of his own, rubbing himself to completion and spraying gallons of his glowing goop into the washing machine with your clothes.

All your clothes are going to smell like him now. 

An hour and several dozen orgasms later, while you’re taking your shirts out of the dryer, you bring one to your face and give it a whiff. The normal clean laundry smell mingles with the night air musk in a harmonious perfume, and only Ghostboy’s control over your legs keeps your knees from quivering in bliss.

You fold the shirt and put it in your laundry bag. You’ll have time to enjoy it more later. For now, time to finish up and get on with your day.

***

Your next stop is grocery shopping. Ghostboy lets you have your arms again while you pick out fruits and decide what kind of chips you want. In the meantime, he’s still using his to give his spectral dick all the attention it deserves. He seems to be taking an extra perverse delight in spraying down other shoppers with ectoplasm. None of them so much as flinch, but seeing them with a nice glaze of glowing goo, knowing that they’ll go the rest of the day like that without even realizing it, sends jolts of arousal running through you.

He gives the woman in front of you in the checkout line a particularly thorough coating, which placates your annoyance at her for holding up the line with an invalid coupon. The check-out girl is remarkably patient with her though, and keeps her customer service poker face steady while explaining that no, you cannot get a discount on detergent when the coupon is for fabric softener, even if it is the same brand.

When coupon lady finally accepts that she’s not getting her discount and pays (you just know she’s going to try to get a refund from a manager later though), you step up with your items. Ghostboy gives you face control so you can give the checker an apologetic smile. She returns a “what can you do?” half-shrug as she scans the contents of your cart.

While she’s doing that though, she keeps stealing glances downwards. Two or three times might be coincidental but by the fifth, it becomes obvious that she’s looking at your crotch. You get a bit nervous; you’ve cum so many times already today that you probably wouldn’t know it if the dry orgasms Ghostboy has been giving you have suddenly turned wet, and you’re worried that you’ve got stained pants.

Ghostboy himself, however, has a different idea of what she’s looking at. With a schlorp, he leans forward off of your upper body, leaving your legs (and cock) inside. The checker’s eyes go a bit wider, though she doesn’t say a word, continuing to tally your items. Oh. She can see Ghostboy. That’s. Awkward.

Ghostboy doesn’t seem to think so though. And in a soft, inviting voice, he offers:

“Do you want some too?”

She steals a couple of sideways glances before giving a subtle nod.

Ghostboy smiles, leans back into you, and goes back to work on his shaft with renewed vigor. He puts himself right on the edge, and times it just so that as you’re swiping your payment card, he sends his own goopy payload into the checker’s face. She flinches, just a little, before licking a glob of it off her upper lip.

She gives you a small, secretive smile as she hands you a receipt. The receipt has a phone number written on it. Ghostboy tells you that you two can have more fun with her later; tonight, you’re all his.

His junk squeezes around yours, and you feel another orgasm rush through you.

***

The urge to jump into your bed immediately when you get home is very strong, and you’re pretty confident Ghostboy feels the same. He manages to resist it for long enough to pilot your body through the process of making a quick dinner, but he’s teasing you with both his voice and his body the whole time. He also has stopped touching himself but is still milking orgasms out of you, and his balls are getting noticeably bigger as you try to enjoy your food through the arousal.

When you’re finally done, Ghostboy facetiously and teasingly wonders (aloud, with your mouth) what you’re going to do with the rest of the evening. You could watch some shows, or get some cleaning done… or you could go to bed early. You choose bed. He pretends to think about it for a little longer, then agrees.

Next thing you know, he’s laying you down in your bedroom. You feel him twist a little around you before he slowly, sensually starts sliding himself off your body with a slick, goopy feeling. He saves your head for last, and as he sliiiiides off of your face, you notice he’s turned around. You’re eye-to eye with him, then cheek-to-cheek, and then finally, mouth-to-mouth.

He pauses there to share a bit of tongue with you, before he slips off and floats above you with a warm, confident smile and massively oversized balls. The former is giving you tingles up and down your spine, and a lovey-dovey feeling in your brain. The latter are enticing in other ways.

If he floated just a little bit down, his gigantic sack would cover most of your torso in soft ethereal spirit-flesh. You’re already at attention, you have been for the whole day, but somehow you feel yourself getting more aroused at the idea of letting him rest his weightless-but-still-heavy package on top of your own. Feeling those churning ectoplasm factories rumble around your shaft, knowing that you filled them up with your day of phantom orgasms… You can’t resist the idea, and voice it aloud to Ghostboy.

He says he likes the way you think, and starts to float a little lower… but then pulls back. He says there’s one more thing he has to do first. His hands go to his shaft, and he kindly commands you to give his balls your direct attention… and keep your hands off your own cock for now.

He seems to have something special in mind, and you don’t exactly need encouragement to jam your face into his ballbag again, so you get to work kissing and massaging. The musk is definitely stronger now than it was last night, and you feel your guts twitch just from the scent. You make yourself back off for a moment; the combination of day-long overstimulation and otherworldly pheromone almost made you cum handsfree. 

Ghostboy gives you a wink and encourages you to get rougher with his beachballs. He’s already a ghost, it’s not like you’ll hurt him. So you grab as much squishy ghostflesh as you can in your arms, and squeeze. His balls have tons of give, and with a little pressure you manage to get your arms all the way around them both, hugging them to your body as you relish in musky, ethereal softness. Despite their pliability, they’re oh so full, and you can feel them rumbling and churning. It occurs to you that you and Ghostboy made all this cum together, and the thought makes your heart race and your cock throb. You can’t wait to get that ghost lotion all over you.

You don’t have to wait long. It only takes about a minute of ball worship before Ghostboy moans out that he’s on the edge. He asks if you’re ready, then smirks and says it doesn’t matter if you are or not. He slips his balls out of your grip (with a slightly goopy popping noise) and aims his oversized cumpipe directly at your face.

You open your mouth, and he opens the floodgates, blasting you with a firehose deluge of tingling ectoplasm. You swallow as much of his otherworldly chowder as you can, but gallons are splashing all over your bed and body. You’re fully covered in goop in an instant, and Ghostboy manages to get a second coat of spunk on you before his massive cumshot ends. 

You take a moment to just bask in the feel of being slimed from head to toe. It’s… well it’s a little gross, really. Without Ghostboy’s body covering yours and constantly spreading the goop all over you, it’s kinda just like having a bucket of lotion dumped over your head. But it still tingles pleasantly as it drips over your body, and the warm-yet-cool temperature like a fresh blanket is still prevalent. You wipe off your eyes to find Ghostboy’s face right in front of yours. He asks if you’re ready for the finale, and gives you a surprisingly chaste peck on the nose.

You blink. Your nose feels weird. The warm/cool tingle of ectoplasm seems to have amplified itself there. Now that you’re paying attention, you can kind of feel it spreading to the rest of your face.

You blink. Now you feel it on your cheeks, on your lips, maybe on your tongue too. Your nose is still feeling funny and you stifle the urge to sneeze.

You blink. Suddenly, Ghostboy is radiant.

Whatever he did, it’s reached your eyes, and now… after your first outing with him, you started seeing other signs of spectral activity, but now you can see. Phantom lights decorate the air around you. The spooge you’re covered in glows brighter and feels warmer as the tingling gets stronger. There’s a cobweb in the corner of your room shaped like a dreamcatcher, with something that almost but not quite resembles a spider tending to it (you’ll have to ask about that later).

But Ghostboy himself is the main attention getter. He glowed faintly before but now he shines like a star, not blinding like sunlight would be but soothing instead. His face beams down on you like a full moon, his musk creates a shimmering aura around his body, and his eyes swirl with shifting patterns of spectral light.

His lower orbs, you see as you look down, are also swirling with beautiful, hypnotic patterns. They’re already churning up his next load, and you idly wonder if you can fill his ballbag up from the outside. And if he’s actually hypnotizing you.

Ghostboy giggles and you realize you’ve voiced both your wonders aloud. Ghostboy says yes to the first, and “a little” to the second. But he adds that he can’t really help it, because he just cranked your supernatural senses up with that cumbath and kiss. Now you’re really in tune with the spirit world.

Which means that… he drifts a little closer to you, reaches out, and pokes your nipple.

You hadn’t noticed until now, but the tingly warmth from your face has spread through most of your body at this point, only missing at the ends of your extremities. As soon as Ghostboy so much as brushes against your skin your whole nervous system lights up with that cold-warm tingling pleasure, cranked up to 11. For an instant, that one touch becomes your whole world, and bolts of sensation radiate out from it. You’re back on the edge of orgasm, and almost go over… but not quite.

Your “enhanced 6th sense” makes Ghostboy’s touch feel realer than real, and it seems he plans to take full advantage. He reaches his other hand out and tweaks your other nipple.

For a split second, screaming pain, but then replaced with equally screaming pleasure. In two tiny moments, you receive an epiphany from the spirits themselves; for pleasure to not become numb, there must also be pain. It makes the pleasures all the sweeter. The second wave of tingles is even more powerful than the first, when you already thought the first was your nerves maxed out. Your whole body tenses and flexes, your every body hair feels as its own erogenous zone… it’s a miracle that you haven’t cum yet.

A jolt of fear runs through you as you suddenly think about the possibility that you might be about to shoot your very soul out through your cock. Or fry your brain from an overload of spectral pleasure, either or. Ghostboy seems to sense your fear, but his smile softens instead of sharpening. He may be in control, but there’s no malice in his glimmering eyes.

Finally, Ghostboy, with his usual defiance of gravity, gingerly lifts his own massive spectral orbs up, floats down, and gently plops them onto your pelvis.

Soft.

Soft, fuzzy weight becomes your whole world. The fluffiest, most luxurious weighted blankets couldn’t come close. And unlike a blanket, his balls churn and swirl as they produce more ghost goop. The movement is miniscule, but with your heightened senses it’s a powerful massage that shoots ecstasy up your spine with every subtle shift. You try to hold back and savor the feeling, but you can’t resist for long. With the cool-warm shock of ethereal bliss running through your every vein, you finally cum.

And cum.

And cum again.

Every time you think it’s over, Ghostboy shifts his body or hefts his sack, and you find yourself over the edge once more.

His balls are getting bigger and churning harder. You’re filling him up again. Just the thought forces another orgasm out of you.

You don’t know how long you’re locked in ecstasy but eventually, you’re well and truly spent. Your muscles relax as the shock of pleasure finally fades and leaves behind a faint tingling in your limbs and a soft cloud of satisfaction in your brain.

Ghostboy floats over his own sack, rolling it up your body until he’s face to face with you. He hugs you around the shoulders and nuzzles your face with his, and you can feel his affection in a way you can’t quite explain. You just know he wants to be close to you more than anything, and he knows you want the same.

You enjoy it for a while. But you have to ask before you fall asleep.

“When will I see you again?”

He leans back a little and looks you in the eyes. He says it depends. He asks you if you want this to be an occasional thrill, something you get a tantalizing taste of every once in a little while…

Or if you want him as a boyfriend.

He clarifies that you wouldn’t be his first and almost certainly won’t be his last… but if you want to be haunted by him, he’ll stick around for as long as you're fine with sharing your home. And your body.

If being his boyfriend means more days like today… How could you say no?