0 comments/ 53348 views/ 1 favorites Alone Again By: maggie2002 The divorce became final today. I’m forty-five years old, out of shape, overweight and horny as hell. Now I am also alone. Nobody around to solve even that problem for me. I could usually count on my no account man to fuck me when I was horny. He didn’t care about anything but the fact you were female. The last of the customers finally left the store at six o’clock. I happily locked up and got ready to go home. I got into my piece of junk car, and went about four blocks when I heard a loud bang and the car made a loud thumping noise. I pulled into a mall I had never noticed before and got out to look. I had a flat. I opened the trunk as if that would help. I had no clue how to change a tire. I picked up my telephone to call a service station and I was in a no call zone. Go Figure! I looked around and there was only one store open, I walked toward the place and it wasn’t until I entered that I realized it was an adult bookstore. There was a nice looking muscular man behind the counter reading, who looked up and asked, “Is there something I could help you with lovely lady?” I explained my situation and he smiled. “A good looking lady like you should be able to get some man to change her tire. I will make you a deal. You watch the place, while I change the tire, and then you give me a blow-job as a thank-you.” He picked the keys out of my hand and he was out the door before I could frame an answer. I think he was kidding to see if he could shock me. He was going to be surprised because it sounded like a plan to me. It took him about twenty minutes and I used the time to inspect the toys and other things that constituted the store’s stock. I laid aside two vibrators, and a large jelly dildo to take home with me along with some lubrication that said it tasted like strawberries. He laughed when he came back inside and saw the stuff waiting to be purchased. He pulled down his jeans, no shorts and pulled me to him. “Let me fuck your ass lady when my blow job is done and you can take the stuff for free. I asked, “Do I get some pleasure out of all this. He fisted his cock slowly and I watched it grow from its flaccid seven inches to almost ten as it engorged to the size of a small fist. “Never mind” I said with a smile, “let’s try some of that lube.” He went and put out the closed sign, locked the door and put out the lights. Finished, he led me to the back. There we found a nice cot. This place was well prepared. I knelt down and softly grasped his cock. “Ever did this before with a stranger?” I shook my head nope. “It’s sort of a divorce celebration for me. It’s Official today I am a free woman.” He pulled back and looked deep into my eyes. “No shit, that husband of yours must be a jackass. You are one big fine looking broad.” That man got the premium first class no holds barred blowjob of his life. When he was almost ready to come he pulled out of my mouth and pushed me over the sofa. Tits hanging down ass high in the air, I felt his fingers coated with lube push inside my ass one at a time, twisting and turning until I loosened up and he could comfortable push four into his second knuckle. He withdrew and replaced it with his cock. He slide in slick as could be making me feel stuffed but giving me no pain. Now he pushed one of my new toys into my pussy and turned it on high and his hand found my throbbing clit. “O.K. lady lets give those toys a workout.” We did too. He was like a jackhammer taking me higher and higher as his cock rammed my ass. The vibrator in my pussy that he was shoving back and forth gave me such intense feelings of pleasure it was hard not to zone out entirely into my own little world. When his thumb started working on my clit as he allowed the vibrator to rest buried deep inside me I lost it. I had an orgasm that made up for the years of almost sex I had endured. He stiffened as I came and groaned, "I am coming to" he pulled out and sprayed his come all over my ass, the warm spattering on my cool ass pushed me over the wall again. He pulled out the vibrator and kneeling down licked and sucked me dry. I went higher and into a climax so hard, it hurt. I finally managed to pull away. I turned around his juices dripping down my legs and pulled him up to kiss me. “Thank you for the best sex I have had in almost twenty years.” He smiled and as he licked the vibrator clean for me said, “You know these things need batteries so who knows, what might happen if you drop by late at night. I just might give you a personal demonstration of any new toys I have and we can do this again. I blushed, nodded, and leaned down to clean him up and tuck him away. “To bad that’s not for sale.” He grinned. “Lady with a body like that you can’t own it but you can borrow it any time you want.” We walked to the front of the store. He bagged my goodies and kissed me good-bye. “Until the next time we meet sweet lady.” Smiling directly into my eyes, he whispered “and there will be a next time.” I floated home and slept well for the first time in weeks. Alone Again When you're at a job interview, there are a number of things it isn't very wise to mention. It's not a good idea, for example, to tell the interviewer that you have a real problem with authority, that you don't take orders too well and they had better learn to deal with it. You might also want to avoid ending any response with anything along the lines of "can you dig that?" You certainly can't say that you're having difficulty concentrating because you can't stop thinking about the mind blowing sex you had last night. Which is what I really want to say. I'm looking at this guy's face, marvelling at how I'm operating (presumably) on what little sleep I've had over the past two days, and wondering if he can detect my post-orgasmic haze, which has been running strong for about four hours now. Seriously, I'm fucking glowing. He's asking me about how I would handle a long line of customers while keeping a drawer perfect, and I want to interrupt him with something like "Guess who I fucked last night." Not that he'd understand. Last night was two years of sexual tension condensed into one night. It was Campbell's condensed sex. Right now I'm thinking about the way she looked in her bed when I left this morning, with a scant sheet of thin cotton outlining her flawless body. I'm thinking about how she tied my tie. That look in her eyes, like I was the most handsome man alive. I'm thinking about getting back into that bed, not keeping a drawer's count right while dealing with impatient customers who think a deposit can be taken care of in ten seconds flat. I'm a waiter, and have been since I was eighteen. Anyone else who does that for a living will tell you that it does not take long to get old. It really doesn't matter where you serve, it will always ultimately be the same. And if you do it for long enough, you'll be the fiftysomething pear shaped waitress whose only joy is smoking and getting drunk. And I'm already far too fond of both. So when I saw a bank near where I live hiring, I jumped at the opportunity. I mean I would start out making less, but I would still make enough and frankly I am long overdue for a change of scenery. I got here about five minutes before ten, and between now and leaving that heavenly bed an hour or so ago I drank more coffee and smoked more cigarettes than I'd care to say. I'm doped up on caffeine, nicotine, and post-coital bliss. Guess who I fucked last night. Go on, guess. I fucked Brenda Seabrook last night, that's who. And it was easily the best I've ever had, for a number of reasons. Firstly, I waited two years for it. Two long, long years. I mean this was a complete explosion of lust with an absolute goddess. A virgin goddess. Yes, a virgin. That's right, not only did I fuck her, I was her first. That is a fucking privilege if ever there was one. Because I didn't just deflower any girl. Brenda Seabrook is by far the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Seriously. You should see this girl. She doesn't just have stunning green eyes, she uses two crisp miniature oceans that resemble clear Hawaiian coasts to see. She's not blonde, she has countless strands of soft silken gold for hair that feel like heaven in between your fingers. Her skin is so smooth; put a silk sheet in the dryer for about ten minutes and take it out and bury your face in it - I'm serious - you're still nowhere near how it feels to kiss her. Pressing those soft lips against your own is like kissing pink clouds. And it certainly doesn't hurt that she has got the tightest little body imaginable. She could engage in any commonplace activity and I would immediately be wracked with a barely controllable urge to fuck her. Watching her do laundry, for instance, is downright unbearable. Mainly because she's got this pair of clothes she wears exclusively for that. Let me start with those tiny little lavender shorts that cut off at the tops of her delicious honey colored thighs; absolute murder. The fringes have this look, like they've been ripped, or just cut at an awkward angle, and the first thing that comes to mind is to just rip them off of her. The elastic band connects her hips below her belly button and underlines the small of her back in a slightly loose fashion, letting the front jut out and hang ever so slightly. Her ass is emphasized to a bewitching degree; it resembles this semi-round curve ending right before the hem does that just screams to be grabbed. Plus the fabric looks so soft; how wonderful it would be to run my palms over and dig my fingers into them.. preferably with her in them. Ha-ha. With that she wears a little white t-shirt. Just a normal everyday t-shirt. You could see some chick walking down the street wearing the same shirt and even not bother with a second look. When this girl wears it, with those sleeves ending just below the shoulders, and her arms looking so soft and smooth, it's absolutely beautiful. And that's not even the proverbial tip of the iceberg; her breasts are barely subdued by it.. and they even push outward a little bit, as if in protest.. and how the bottom rises so that just a fraction of her flat stomach is visible; hinting at the supple flesh within.. I'm telling you, this girl is just a fucking work of art. She sometimes stands idly against the opposite wall in the room too, and she'll open one of her legs so that they resemble an arrowhead pointing right or left; it makes you want to walk up to her and hook your arm behind her knee before you nail her up against that wall. What's even worse is watching her bend over to check the clothes in the dryer... arching her back, extending that entrancing rear, flexing those long, slender legs... whether it was purposeful or not (which it probably was) it would send my mind into a flurry of erotic possibilities. I could walk up behind her and ask how the laundry was going. She'd say something casually and then I'd press my crotch into her bent figure. Maybe we'd even continue conversation as I'd start grinding my concealed hard-on into her from behind. She would tightly grip the edge of that wretched machine as I'd reach my hand around... I'm getting carried away. Please understand that if I talk too long about how sexy Brenda is words will ultimately fail me, so suffice it to say that not pouncing on her is incredibly difficult. Maybe I should start over. * This story was edited to meet Literotica's site guidelines. If you would like more information on the unedited part of the story, please contact the author. * I woke up groggily with traces of a dream crumbling in my head. The bed felt hard below me but the warm sheets and blankets more than made up for it. As I sat up, I found that I wasn't even bothering with trying to distract myself. I wasn't going to think about sheets hugging my knees or the bland white walls surrounding me. I didn't care about the clock on the nightstand telling me that it was 9:40. Brenda was in my head and I let her consume my thoughts. I think I had been resisting, that I didn't want to think of her more than I had to, but now I didn't really care. I didn't know what to think, what to even feel on this morning. I had lusted after this girl for two years, and now I could finally have her. Maybe. I didn't know. I got up, slid on a pair of jeans, pulled on a t-shirt, and opened the door, walking out into the house. There was no sound, and I wondered if everyone was still asleep. I walked up the stairs and looked to my right, which was where Brenda's room was. The door was open. I slowly walked over and stood in the doorway and looked in. "Aww, did you come up to wish me a happy birthday?" The voice was coming from behind me. I turned to see Brenda lying on her stomach in front of the television, with one of her calves up in the air. She was wearing that white t-shirt and those lavender shorts I love so much. My eyes involuntarily followed the seemingly endless curves of her body... up the back of her calf to her knee, together with the other, which led up an identically slender leg to a bare foot pointing backwards. Those thighs entered her shorts, at which point her ass rose and fell into her back, which rose again to her neck and her head. She's not the easiest girl to act casually with, but over the years I've gotten pretty good at it. "Maybe." I walked over and she got up, standing on her knees in front of me, her arms at her sides. Her shirt had a slightly rumpled look to it, and I could see a bit more of her navel than I should have. I thought it was high time I compliment her on her little temptress routine, whether it was intentional or not, but I held back, instead mentioning that she hadn't been as friendly as usual last night. "Oh, that," she said, a seemingly nervous laugh escaping her, "I was feeling kind of sick yesterday. But I feel better today." Part of the game. I sighed and thrust my hands into my pockets. Finally a weak monosyllabic laugh found its way out of my mouth. "So what time did you get up, birthday girl?" "A little bit ago.. I was just doing some laundry." Of course she was. What a good girl. Her nose wrinkled and she made a cute little face of annoyance. "God, isn't Patrick a nerd?" I wasn't quite sure where that had come from, and I was even doubly unsure of how to respond, what with Julie's bedroom no more than eight feet away. And along with the relief of her not repeating last night's disaffection came an upwelling of nervousness. "I take it you saw him this morning?" "Yeah, he saw me before he left. He said something about getting party supplies for a night with the rap-somethings. And before he left he said all loud and cheery 'I shall return'. Like he was a character in a Charles Dickens book, or something. He's like an old man." "Oh come on, that's a bit much," I said. "Sure he uses words like 'poppycock' and will probably bring the house down tonight with his rendition of 'Ain't We Got Fun', but he's not like an old man. Not at all." Brenda laughed. I loved watching her already blinding smile evolve into a laugh. Those voluptuous lips had some pretty damn perfect teeth behind them. And that velvety looking tongue.. delicious. She sighed. "I guess we'd better not make fun, we might get in trouble." "Yeah?" "Yeah, he might give me a spanking." I heard an inflection in her voice matched with a look of suggestion buried in her eyes at the word "spanking". "Actually I talked to Patrick last night. He told me that he wanted me to do that for him." "Oh, is that right?" Arched eyebrows, a slight smile forming at the edges of her lips. God I love it. "Uh huh. He said 'That Brenda, she's a real troublemaker. I'd give her a spanking myself, but with my arthritis..'" Brenda let her head fall back a bit as she laughed again, exposing her throat betwixt two rivers of gold. How I could be so drawn to just a girl's neck, I still couldn't tell you. She stood. She plucked my t-shirt with her thumb and index finger, her eyes never leaving mine. "Well you are in his house, you should do as he says." Oh shit, I thought. Here we go. I actually felt more nervous than I ever had before with her. In the past it had just been teasing, but now something might happen. I know it's what I had wanted for years, but I was finding myself startlingly apprehensive. My little siren led me to the couch, and I was watching her cute little butt as it waved to me from inside her shorts. She released me, got on her knees on the couch, and motioned for me to sit. I sat. She knelt on my right side, and slowly she extended her nimble body to lay her stomach over my lap, resting on her forearms. "Make me really regret it." My heart was threatening to shatter through my ribcage. If you're wondering how an newly turned eighteen year old girl could be so provocative, believe me, so was I. The way she was laying on her stomach reminded me of a dream I'd had; I couldn't remember when I'd had it exactly but it had remained as vivid in my head as it was when I first had it. I'm living in this house, this single story house with three bedrooms. They are all on the same side of the hall which divides them and the bathroom from the living room and the kitchen. I'm in the living room watching television when a girl comes out from the hall. She's wearing shorts like the pair I like to watch Brenda prance around in with a t-shirt. All I can recall is her face looking very innocent, maybe even a little helpless. The soft little lips part to tell me that she can't sleep. She comes up and sits next to me on the couch. "My mattress is too hard," she says, half complaining and half asking. She crosses her smooth looking legs toward me and leans back into the couch, sighing. I remember her petite arms folded beneath the slow heaving of her chest. "I'm so tired," she says, "I'm so sleepy, I just want to sleep." She offers no yawn to support her claim. In fact, I haven't really any reason to believe her. She seems perfectly awake to me. Then again the walls behind the television are quivering slightly and the ceiling is gently rising and falling. The colors of the house's interior continue to change and windows look like they're melting and slipping down the walls like old magnets on a refrigerator. This girl is the only non surrealistic thing in this room other than me, which is probably why I take her word for it. I tell her to go into my room, that she can sleep in my bed. I have no problem sleeping out here in the living room, as I'm not even tired yet anyway. She gives me a hard look. "You don't have to, you can sleep in your bed too." Too? "No, that's fine, go ahead," I say, "You can have it to yourself." If i had looked at her I would have seen a look on her face that could either have meant gratitude meshed with guilt or longing. Innocence or lust. I have no clue how I know this. Finally she gets up and I watch her disappear into the hall. Now I can get back to my television program. It's The Price Is Right. Bob Barker has a blue suit and a large head wider than his shoulders. It looks penciled in over his real head. The announcer talks about prizes while Bob's strangely sinister smile broadens, revealing large, razor sharp teeth. The type of sharp teeth a child would draw, like a short succession of capital V's inside his mouth. "Place all of your prized possessions in this solid oak armoire.." "Take your armoir on your next roadtrip in your brand new winnebago..." "Put your brand new winnebago in this state of the art blender.." It's around here that Bob's outdated microphone falls from his hand and his feet lift up from the black and white checkered ground. He moves upward, as if floating, until he starts coming out of the television. Now the walls are a faded green as Bob's head leads his body up to the ever rising ceiling, much like a balloon being chased by its string. It dawns on me to check on the girl, and I get up and head over to the hall. The hall quickly becomes a long corridor, with blue flowers pasted in a seemingly random pattern across both pink walls. They eventually become dark red, and soon black. I find a doorway on my left, and I start to hear noises. Wierd noises. I can't tell what they are until I hear a breathless whisper. It's the sound of a girl moaning. The sound drifts over me and finally through me, and I can properly identify it. It's the girl. She's quietly sighing and groaning. I'm not quite sure why, but a strange excitement grips me as I approach the doorway. I walk through and the moderately lit room looks normal. Or maybe I don't really notice. The first thing I see is my bed. On my bed is the girl. The noises have grown louder, and there is no doubt now as to the source. She is on her stomach, and the side of her head is buried into a pillow, facing me. I remember her eyes closed and her mouth forming a little o, sending out those orgasmic sounds. Her arm closest to me is bent, with her hand flat next to her slightly open lips. The other is underneath her stomach with her back sharply arched. Her shirt has ridden up the small of her back and a good amount of flesh can be seen between its end and her shorts, the light playing across it. I can't see her hand shoved inside the front of those shorts, but there's clearly something in between her stomach and the elastic band. I watch her rear gyrate into the mattress. Her moans grow louder as her legs continue to open into the bed, forming a diamond. No sheet or blanket covers her body and I just stand there daftly, watching as this girl pleasures herself. I can see beads of sweat on her forehead. I watch the o of her mouth enlarge, to reveal white teeth and a pink and very capable looking tongue. She looks to be grinding her face into her pillow now, moaning even louder. Her fingers are viciously squeezing the end of the pillow. Her hips move faster over her hand. Soon her rear lifts up, and it takes me a moment to realize that her knees have closed slightly and I can now see her hand inside her shorts, this bulge within the fabric behind her wrist that seems to rapidly scurry without moving from that single spot. Her moans get louder, she gasps breathlessly and her entire body appears to be tightly drawn. Her knees dig into the mattress with her calves lifting up slightly, her flexed feet clad with small white socks. And that's when, her face looking its most desperate, she makes eye contact with me. And she releases this incredible, ragged howl of an orgasmic scream before her eyes shut again. The sensation of my palm burning into the backside of Brenda's shorts brought me back into the present. She felt so obscenely warm, so incredibly soft, for a moment I had completely no idea what to do. I started to caress her with my open palm in a small clockwise motion, and the gravity of the situation failed to hit me until I felt the top of her right thigh, which hung over the edge of the couch, graze against my leg. I grabbed her hip and held it. "Oh, I can't hurt you Brenda," I said dunderheadedly. "Besides, maybe this way Patrick will spank me too." Eric, you're choking, I screamed to myself. What the hell are you doing? She got up onto her knees and sat in my lap, facing and straddling me. She gave me a hug. "You're so sweet, Eric... you're just bursting with fruit flavor, aren't you?" Yeah, I thought. I'm bursting with something. Here's Brenda on my lap, her creamy thighs on either side of me, my arms around the small of her back. And here's me sitting there, harmless as a eunuch. I felt humiliated. Humiliated by myself. Why was I freezing up? Was I just so used to not being able to do anything? I tried to convince myself that it was because of Julie being in the next room. Or that Patrick was going to be back any minute. But the reality is that I choked, plain and simple. That was my sole thought as she gave me a big kiss on my cheek and got up. She walked into the laundry room and I felt like too much of a wimp to even enjoy the visual of her walking away. God, I thought. What am I, gay? * * * * * "Make me really regret it." Eric started rubbing his palm against her ass, savoring the sensation of the soft shorts over her delicious rear. He heard a quiet "mmm" escape Brenda's lips and he smiled, letting his other hand slide up her back. I'm back in the bedroom. I'm lying on the bed with my eyes closed. My right hand is inside my unzipped jeans and over my boxers. I'm stroking my cock in a downward motion with my index, middle, and ring. It's already coming to life, but not enough to poke through the buttonhole yet. I've taken off my shirt because I don't want to get it dirty so early in the day. The door is locked. Eric starts massaging the back of her neck along with her butt. "Maybe I should," he tells her in a low voice. "I think you might even like it." Alone Again Her back arches a bit and she smiles to herself. "Of course not," Brenda said, exhaling the words. Eric's hand moving down to the back of her thigh and slid back up, up inside her shorts. "It's just that I've been such a bad girl, I need to be punished." His finger hooked at the crotch of Brenda's shorts and he gave them a little tug. She responded by raising her hips slightly above Eric's lap, allowing him to pull them down past her thighs. He continued massaging her neck as she wiggled her ass imperceptibly. "You know you want to..." Eric's massaging hand moved across her neck and up her cheek to Brenda's mouth. Her wet lower lip crawled underneath two of his fingertips, promptly followed by her upper lip. Her tongue followed suit, brushing against them. As Eric's fingers enjoyed the benefits of her soft, hot mouth, his other hand was running up her warm inner thigh, all the way up to her pink panties. They felt wet, and he could feel her outline through them. Brenda moaned softly, her lips opening slightly only to re-consume Eric's fingertips. She started moving her backside into his hand. By now my dick is far more stiff; my hand is gently squeezing on it over my boxers, slowly moving up and down. "Come on, aren't you going to do it to me?" Eric was rubbing his fingers into her crotch, making her heavy breathing interject each sentence she would utter. He dug his thumb into her just below the small of her back and his fingers squeezed on her cheek. "That's what you want, Brenda?" "Yes... please Eric, spank my ass..." Eric's hand left Brenda's ass as his opposite fingers pulled away from her lips. He then brought his hand down on her, not too hard but with enough force to impel her torso forward. Brenda let out a small gasp, but quickly recovered, saying, "What was that? Are you spanking me, or did you ask your grandmother to do it for you?" Typical Brenda mouthing off. I love it. I've pulled my cock out now and I'm jerking myself off a little faster. My apendage is standing straight up and the underside is already starting to feel a little more sensitive from the abrasion against my palm. It isn't until now that I notice the fingers on my left hand dredging into my left thigh, or that my breathing has grown heavier. Eric smiled at Brenda's smart ass comment. He extended his arm and swatted her again, much harder this time. He felt her body jolt at the slap, and he kneaded the cheek for a brief moment just before smacking it even harder. "Ooh...." Brenda's breathing was becoming gasping as Eric reached his hand underneath her body, in between her breasts and his lap. He started fondling her soft tit as he ground his fingers into her wet crotch, listening to her moaning. Eric pulled her up onto her hands and knees and spanked her again, so hard that his palm felt a harsh sting. Brenda let out a loud wail as she fell forward, collapsing onto the arm of the couch, her rear in the air. Eric moved his legs from underneath hers and got on his knees behind her, his hands touching the tender backs of her thighs. At this point I can hear myself grunting. My knees are bent and I'm pumping my hard-on about as fast as I can. If I thought about Brenda enough, I could end up with my arm in a sling. Eric pulled Brenda's panties down her thighs, so that they were just above her knees with her shorts. "Do you want me to fuck you, Brenda?" He could hear her shuddering. Looking at her ass, he could see her pussy just below. Brenda was dripping like a honeycomb before him, her juices glistening over her puffy lips. He moved closer, so that the tip of his engorged member pressed against it. He almost came at the sensation of her incredibly soft and wet cunt; it felt as though it were offering to swallow him. Brenda was panting helplessly as he slapped her ass again. She yelped at the sharp tingle, her upper body draped over the couch's arm. "Answer me, Brenda... you want me to fuck you, don't you?" "Yes," came her threadbare whisper. "Please, Eric, just.. just fuck me.." She sounded as though the response barely escaped past her teeth. With that Eric pushed himself inside her, and immediately gasped at the incredible tightness and the intense heat. Brenda screamed out in pleasure as he reached around to knead her breasts over her t-shirt. At this point I'm barely hanging on. My left hand has moved up to my pillow, clenching it ridiculously tight against the side of my face. My balls are aching for release, and my cock feels swollen. I stroke the rigid shaft as fast as my arm will allow before a groan escapes me and I feel that familiar pang travel through my dick before the sensation pulsates in every vein and explodes through the tip. While I'm cumming my eyes are clenched too tightly to see anything, but I can feel the hot jism splatter against my hardened stomach as I bite into the pillow. * * * * * After I wiped my stomach clean I put my shirt back on and walked out to the living room. I could hear the dryer's dull whir drone on upstairs, and soon I heard Julie's voice emerge over it. She was up. I supposed at that point I could pull the whole "good thing I didn't do that" card, but I'd have known I was full of shit. Maybe Brenda's telling her mom about what a wuss I am, I thought. The only way this can get any worse- "The sultan comes bearing gifts!" -is that. Patrick, the party hero himself, had arrived. I heard Julie rushing down the stairs to greet him. They were excited. Well, we all were, just not for the same reason. And my excitement was experiencing minute flickers of anxiety. What if nothing happens? For the next four hours or so, the four of us were going to be setting up the house for Brenda's birthday party. After that friends of hers and hers and his would be arriving, and while I'm no stranger to sneaking a girl away at a party, a present mother can provide a somewhat daunting obstacle. I realize that I'm not talking about Julie and Patrick in the fondest of ways. I really like them. Especially Julie, I mean I've known her for years. But at that point all I could think was that I finally had this chance with Brenda and that I'd blown it. Despite my fit of anxiety, it didn't take long to calm myself down. The girl had just been laying in my lap for God's sake. Plus Julie and Patrick would be distracted by their friends, and I might be able to pull her away. And it doesn't take five hours to decorate a house either, I thought. Just chill, Eric. Everything's going to be cool. Patrick and I decorated while Julie put together the food and drinks. Brenda was nowhere in sight. She didn't come downstairs until about two, by which time the three of us were sitting in the living room, watching television and waiting for everyone to arrive. She was wearing the same red shirt and blue jeans she had worn when I picked her up and she stuck a lollipop in front of my mouth. "Hey Eric," I imagined her saying, "Remember this outfit? This was what I wore when we were practically kissing when I was sixteen." Brenda sat next to Julie, who sat next to Patrick who sat next to me. He started talking to Brenda, who was now ignoring me again. I sat back into the couch exasperatedly; here we go again, I thought. I listened to the three of them talk, watching Brenda's face. Her eyes. Her mouth. I was staring, I didn't care. Still, she wouldn't look back at me and after maybe ten minutes the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Patrick declared blithely. Maybe that was why Julie liked Patrick; he was always so cheerful. At the door were two men; friends of his I assumed. They were dressed in polo shirts, cheap jeans, and white tennis shoes. I thought it was kind of funny that the first people to arrive at Brenda's birthday party weren't even here for her. But man.. once they were introduced, she got their attention real quick. The next hour was a succession of ringing doorbells and letting people in, and Brenda remained seated on the couch until her friends appeared. There were maybe about twenty people there, six of whom were actually acquainted with Brenda. Four somewhat pretty girls and two guys, one of whom was trying to flirt with Brenda. Thankfully he wasn't very charming, but it still really irritated me. I mean, to me Brenda was a consummate enchantress, to this guy she was just an overly appealing set of lips, legs, and breasts with a hot ass. The seven of them went upstairs, leaving me completely at a loss as to what I should do. Too old to hang with the kids. Too young to fraternize with the adults. Patrick had bought some beer and I eventually settled for sitting by the food and drinking, engaging in conversation with anybody who would walk over. After maybe an hour of watching Julie and Patrick mingle with their friends, I decided to go upstairs. I figured that I wasn't so old that it would be wierd for me to see what they were up to. I walked up the stairs after finishing beer number three and saw something that angered me. It didn't just anger me, it fucking pissed me off. That guy who had been flirting with Brenda earlier was now fondling her, standing behind her and grinding away. He had one arm wrapped around her stomach, the other just below her shoulders. The others were all laughing, and Brenda was beet red. The visual was downright infuriating. Brenda saw me, and I did my best to mask my indignation as she freed herself of him and walked over to me. "Eric..." She leaned against my chest, smiling. They were drinking, I could already tell. I swiftly scanned the room and found the culprit lying by the couch: someone had smuggled in a bottle of vodka. Somehow that possibility hadn't even occurred to me. "Eric, they're being mean to me.." She pouted as her friends roared with laughter, holding herself close to me. I looked at the boy who had violated Brenda over her clothes, trying to appear more amused than annoyed, and then switched my gaze back to her. "Aww, Brenda," I playfully cooed, "What's the matter?" "We're playing this game," a girl spoke up, still laughing. "You pick a card and you have to do something based on which card it is. The card Desmond picked let the person before him make him do something." Then "Desmond" spoke up. "Brandon made me dry hump Brenda!" And everyone erupted once again. Desmond. What kind of a fucking name is Desmond anyway? Yeah, poor you, I thought. I wanted to smack him. "You should play with us," another girl said, smiling wryly. Brenda looked up at me, searching my face for my answer. Honestly, it did sound fun. And being near Brenda is something I always like. But the idea of sitting here playing drinking games with eighteen year olds gave me an unpleasant feeling. I haven't got the highest opinion of guys in their twenties who hang around with high school kids. Before I could answer, Brenda took my hand and started walking me toward her bedroom. "If you're not taking your turn Brenda, I'm going," a girl said. "That's fine," Brenda called back, pulling me in through the doorway. She stood on her toes and brought her lips to my ear. "I could feel that guy's dick," she told me, "He was totally hard." I could tell that she was as disgusted as I was, which was relieving. She stepped back, standing in front of me. "Usually Desmond's a nice guy, but he's being a creep today. I felt this tiny little thing all wiggling against me, it was so gross.." I suppressed a smile at her calling it a "tiny little thing". "Maybe he's just not a good drunk." "Probably.. I don't want to hang out with him, but I can't leave my friends." I shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you, Brenda.." That was when she grabbed my forearm with both her hands, as though bracing herself on a rail on a balcony watching the sun rise or set. Her eyes pleaded before her mouth could. "Will you stay with me?" God, I wanted to. Hesitation still rested pretty heavily over my head, though. Would Julie or Patrick or any of their friends find it odd that I be socializing with these guys? Or was it just me? Regardless, I didn't want this guy to have his filthy hands on her again. "Alright, Brenda... but I want to go downstairs real quick... get a bite to eat." Brenda beamed. "Okay, I'll come with you." We walked out of her room and down the stairs, back into the adult's section of the party. The drinking games and lewd jokes gave way to gossip and reminiscing. I kept thinking about that guy grabbing her like that; the image was branded into my memory and it was so offensive that it blocked out anything else I could think of. I was still failing to admit to myself that it wasn't just Desmond I didn't want touching her; I wanted her entirely for myself, and had since I first laid my eyes on her. Both Julie and Patrick were distracted enough with their friends to convince me that they wouldn't randomly walk up to see me consorting with Brenda and her friends. And even if they did, would they really care? I mean I'm sure they didn't expect me to go back and forth between Robert McConnell and Crystal Garrison talking about golf and who's getting fat. Fuck that. I walked up the stairs behind Brenda, watching her jeans smothering her gorgeous ass. Mmm, I thought. That's got to be tight. Brenda and I sat next to each other in the circle formed by her friends in front of the couch. Next to draw a card was a girl named Jessica. She was the girl who had suggested that I join their game earlier. She had the six of diamonds. Sixes implied that the guys were to drink. The other guy, who was called Daniel, grabbed the bottle and poured himself a bit inside their sole shot glass. As he swallowed it, I wondered if I should really involve myself with this. He handed the bottle and glass to Desmond as I contemplated any possible repercussions that may come from joining in on their fun. And when Desmond handed me the bottle, I had already decided that I was down. Who cares, I told myself. It's just a bit of fun, just a game. Fortunately I was right. It never got to be more than I could handle; there wasn't any more fondling or anything of that nature, just standard "you drink", "I drink", "we all drink", or a sort of drunken memory game. After a while we stopped playing and started watching movies. Once we had finished one, we could hear people starting to leave, which her friends took as a cue to take off as well. Subsequently Brenda and I both went downstairs; her to thank her mother and Patrick for throwing her the party, and me to tell Julie that I'd had a few too many beers and ask if it would be cool to stay one more night. She assured me that it would be fine, and I went straight to the guest bedroom, startled at how tired I was. I crawled into the bed, still fully clothed, and fell asleep. I woke up when the room's door opened. For a moment I only saw the empty doorway, until I heard a click followed by saturating light illuminating the room. There Brenda stood, eclipsing the brightness, wearing only a tight fitting pink t-shirt and panties. Oh yeah, wide awake. My look at her was brief, as once my grogginess diminished she turned off the light. My eyes once again were forced to readjust, and though I wasn't positive I was fairly sure that I saw her walking toward the stairs. To be honest, I couldn't tell you what I was thinking when I got out of bed. Absentmindedly clearing my head, horny beyond understanding, I haven't a clue. All I know is that I got out of that bed and walked over to the stairwell and went up. The moonlight was spilling in through a window in Brenda's bedroom, leaking out of her open door and spreading through the house. I tentatively walked through the doorway and saw her standing there before her bed. Drab light flowed into the room from the window behind her, and she bathed in it impeccably. Shadows covered seemingly random parts of her body, contrasting stunningly with her tanned flesh, pink shirt, white panties, and those achingly green eyes, which flashed with an amorous glow. I walked toward her without haste, inhaling her feminine perfection. I looked deep into her hypnotizing eyes, and I saw intense desire that reflected my own. I held my gaze for a while, and while she returned it unflinchingly I saw that it was slightly diluted; she was nervous, even more than I was. And this was how I finally saw her for what she was; Brenda was not a scheming temptress. She was no devious vixen, no cunning seductress. She was a shaky young girl, about to give her virginity to a guy she'd had a crush on for years. I wrapped my arms around her waist, one of my hands moving up her back to gently clutch her neck and the back of her head. I pulled her into me and I kissed her lips, euphoria thoroughly stealing over me. Her mouth was even more soft and inviting than I could ever have imagined. I held her body tightly against mine as I tenderly brushed my tongue against her lips. She quickly responded, pushing her tongue into my mouth. We kissed for a while, and I felt as though I was about to melt into her. I was an ice cube on her tongue. Finally she pulled away, just to lift my shirt up and off of me. She pressed her forehead against my bare clavicle, inhaling and exhaling loudly into my skin. I felt her soft blonde hair, how it poured over my chest like water, as I kissed the top of her head. I released her and she seemed to fall back onto her bed, sitting in front of me. She looked up at me wistfully, her hands reaching to the sides of her panties. She hooked her thumbs through the sides and slowly pulled them down past her adjacent thighs and to her knees, from which point they slid down her shins. While I watched her, I unzipped my pants and pushed them down, reaching into my boxers and pulling out my rigid member. I saw her gasp at the sight, and I began stroking it slowly. She seemed mesmerized; sitting on the edge of her bed, her thighs pressed together, her panties around her ankles, her forearms across her lap as she stared at my cock. "Do you want to touch it?" She nodded mutely, her mouth hanging open as her eyes swallowed it. I moved my hand away as she timidly reached out to me. She pulled my boxers and jeans down to my feet impatiently, staring at my hips and the tension in between. A loud sigh shakily wriggled free from my lungs as I felt her warm palm and cool fingertips take hold of me; an amplification of the feeling of my heart fluttering uncontrollably inside my chest. Her movement was gentle, as though she was petting an animal. And in a way, she was. I was a beast caged by my own self-restraint. As much as I wanted to indulge in every whim with her ravishing body, I knew I couldn't. Brenda was just an eighteen year old girl; she had no idea what had been growing inside of me, what she had been feeding. I'd always doubted that she knew exactly what her actions would help bring along, and I had to keep that in mind. Just watching her now, however, proved that this would not be easy. Her eyes bathed my cock with her gaze while her hand slowly traveled up and down the shaft. Her lips were slightly parted, and I could practically feel the hot breaths being pushed out and pulled back in. Her legs finally parted and I saw a glimpse of her crotch, her most secret of charms, which she was revealing to me. My appetite had never before been this occupied. The shadows played beautifully over her arresting body, and once she looked into my eyes I knew I wouldn't last much longer. I gently took her wrist and pulled it away, sliding my fingers up the back of her hand, over her fingers and past the tips, until I could entwine mine with hers. I held Brenda's hand and looked down at her, completely drunk with her beauty. She was like a little porcelain doll. "God, you're so beautiful." And that was it. That was all I could get out, to convey how slighted I was with this dazzling girl before me. You think about situations like these all the time, and you think that when they finally happen to you, you'll know exactly what to say. You play it over and over in your head, eventually getting the perfect words out to the person you're with. The dialogue is always spectacular, each exchange between you utterly brilliant, and the scene drips with romance. And it just doesn't work that way. The truth is that you can't think of anything good to say; you're so overwhelmed that this is suddenly happening to you that you can't think of anything at all. Alone Again I released her fingers as my other hand faintly nudged her onto her back, the desire in her eyes drowning me. My knees pressed into the edge of the mattress and I reached down to the bottom of her shirt. From this close I could see that she wore no bra, and that her breasts seemed to threaten to burst through the innocent cotton. I pulled it up, and she cooperatively raised her arms. Her soft tits sprang free, and my head began descending to the luxuriant pillows of her chest before her shirt was even completely off. I kissed the top of her stomach, listening to her breathing accelerate. My lips traveled along the tantalizing curve of her breast, pausing just before her nipple. I let my tongue dart out, flicking over it, and she made a small noise. I gave in to gingerly nibbling at her, moving back and forth between her pert bosoms, each of which crowned with a stiff little pink apex. My arms curled underneath her and my palms grasped her shoulders. I pulled her body down, and once again our lips merged with that overwhelming urgency. The backs of her thighs grazed against the sides of my own, my raging appendage trembling over her. Without warning I felt her hand push up against my chest. I pulled my mouth from hers and I saw concern in her face; it looked like she wasn't quite ready. I understood. I fell onto my side and pulled her onto hers so that we were facing each other. Her comely head rested on my right arm as my left hand traced over the lovesome outline of her hip. I kissed her again while I ran my hand up and down her thigh, gradually moving it lower until it was in between her thighs. My fingers made their way up to her center, doused progressively with heat. Brenda's fingernails dug into my stomach and I reached her quim; it was as hot and wet as I'd always fantasized it to be. She moaned loudly against my mouth. "Oh my god, I'm so wet..." I had never heard her say anything that sexual before, and it sent a sharp tingle throughout my body. I looked at her face and saw her shut her eyes and bite her lip. God. That is my fucking weakness right there; I cannot handle a girl biting her lip. To me, it's about one of the most stirring things a girl can do. And watching Brenda's soft, delicate mouth open ever so slightly only to sink her teeth into her creamy bottom lip gave my cock a savage jolt. My fingers rubbed up and down outside her puffed up lips and I felt her hand take me again. I grunted as her thumb rolled over the tip; her fingers wrapped themselves around the top as her thumb pressed into the underside and slid down, up and down, up and down... I was dangerously close to bursting all over her stomach when my composure returned and my fingers resumed their activity on Brenda's cunt. My middle finger burrowed inside the lips, pushing up to her clit and back down. She was soaked. At this point we couldn't even think to kiss each other, we were too busy gasping for breath. When I heard the smacking noises start from Brenda's drenched pussy, she began stroking me faster, and in turn I pressed my finger onto her clit. "Oh fuck," she moaned. I pushed over it in quick little circles and she parted her legs widely. Her broken breaths and quivering hips told me that she was getting really close, and I couldn't believe that I hadn't cum yet. "Oh fuck, Eric... oh my god, please don't s-stop.." Brenda mashed her mouth onto mine and her teeth bore into my lip. She bit me fucking hard, and it pushed me over the edge. We wheezed lustily against each other's mouths, her hips rocking into my hand and my hips fucking her hand. I could feel the cum boiling inside and it shot out and splashed against Brenda's taut stomach. For about fifteen seconds we shared complete ecstasy, and she was the first to speak when we recovered. "It's so warm.." She grinned broadly at me, and I kissed her sweet lips again. Right before I looked past her head and noticed the door. We were so caught up in the moment we had forgotten all about it. The fucking thing had been open the whole time. I reluctantly got up from Brenda's arms and walked over to it. "Oh shit," I heard her whisper, noticing the gaping doorway. I looked out into the fuzzy darkness and made out Julie's bedroom, and her door was closed. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked back over at Brenda, who had moved up on the bed to her usual sleeping position, her head resting on a pillow. She smiled at me and I remembered the mess I had made on her stomach. Quickly I pulled my pants on and grabbed my shirt. I walked into the bathroom and, bunching it up bit, sparingly ran cold water over it. I returned to the room, closed and locked the door, and knelt on the bed beside Brenda, cleaning off her stomach. "That's two stomachs I've littered today." Her face contorted with false jealously. "Two?" I smiled, swabbing her flat tummy. "Yeah. You and that Desmond guy." She laughed. "I knew it! I knew he was a slut!" "Oh, total slut." I was finished wiping her, and I tossed my shirt to the floor. "What do you suppose he's doing now?" she asked as I bent to kiss her neck. "He's probably asleep.. and before that I imagine he jerked off thinking about rubbing against you." I straightened my body out, laying on my stomach next to her, sliding my arms underneath her shoulders. She laughed. "I knew you were jealous!" Smiling, I positioned myself over her between her legs, which she opened slightly for me. "Maybe a little bit." I took one of her breasts into my mouth, gently kneading the other with my hand. My thumb and fingertips played along one nipple as I tongued the other, feeling them stiffen again. My teeth raked over as i lowered myself, my face moving down her drying stomach. Pulling my arms away, I wrapped them behind her knees and kissed her pubus. My nose dug downward into Brenda's soft flesh and I began to smell her musk; that delicious vestal musk. I was already hard again, and I couldn't wait to taste her any longer. Brenda's sensuous, almost startled moan blew into the air as I dragged my tongue up in between her swollen lips. A hint of her flavor tickled my tongue and I gasped, my hot breath showering her labia. At that point I threw tenderness out the fucking window. I mean you have no idea how good this girl tasted; for once the nectar metaphor actually applied. Just that sample of her bittersweet taste had me practically shoving my tongue up inside her for more with an insatiable hunger. By the time I started lapping at her clit she was squealing loudly and her legs were squeezing on my head. I was amazed at how firm her clit felt, and I tongued the underside with complete abandon. You know those studs on your jeans around the pockets? Imagine a soft membrane around it, and that's exactly what I had to play with. That was when I felt her legs start to shake. They trembled on either side of my head as I felt myself stiffening and grinding against the bed. Her fingers pressed into my scalp and grabbed bunches of hair, pulling me into her. Her words were coming in thick, urgent breaths. "Oh my god... oh my god..." A passionate wail from behind clenched teeth reached my ears, and once her hips began to quake against my face I knew she was cumming. Brenda was leaking all over my lips, in my mouth and dribbling down my chin. And believe me, I tried to lick up every last bit. When her body grew motionless I looked up at her from between her thighs and looked at her face; she looked as though she were in a daze. I smiled as I slid myself up and kissed her neck. One of my hands took her breast, brushing my thumb against her sensitive nipple. I brought my forehead to hers and felt my swelling mushroom tap her saturated pussy. I almost moaned at the sensation of her calf lazily grazing against the small of my back. So much for the whole "are you ready" speech. Slowly I pushed into her, and she gasped heavily. Until now, the idea of waking Julie hadn't even occurred to me. Whatever. Even if the door hadn't been locked, it wouldn't have mattered. A fire couldn't have stopped me. I pushed in a little more and grunted. I had never had sex with a virgin before. More importantly, I had never had sex with Brenda Seabrook before. I hadn't even hit her hymen yet, and the pleasure was already deafening. Oh, speak of the devil. That soft, almost squishy wall distracted me only for a moment, before I caught Brenda's green eyes gazing agonizingly into mine. "Fuck me, Eric... please... fuck me..." I never thought I'd actually hear her talk to me like that. Not in a million years. I forced myself farther inside and passed through her safeguard; she bit on my shoulder and whimpered as I felt a warm fluid flow. I actually thought it felt kind of good for a second until I realized it was blood. Her soft cries started to fade as I gingerly moved up all the way inside; or maybe with the feeling of her womanhood swallowing me drowned them out until they actually subsided. Her teeth released my skin and she started to kiss my throat, then my chin and finally my mouth. Brenda's other leg placed itself atop my lower back and I started slipping in and sliding back out. Her tightness was absolutely unbelievable. Such a hot, wet little box I was fucking, and the helpless way she was kissing me was driving me insane. Not to mention those wanton whispers and moans... they were trickling over my shoulder and down my back to my waist, around which her suprisingly strong legs were firmly wrapped. I sat up and grabbed her hips, slowing down. I moved in and out at a more gentle pace, partly because I wasn't far from losing it again, but also because she was starting to get loud. We were going until we were both finished, that was for damned sure, but I didn't want her mother to think that someone was fucking her daughter. Looking down at her tore away whatever concern I had though. She had an arm behind her head, clutching her pillow, and her other came up to my chest, her fingernails digging into my flesh just below my collarbone and dragging downward. Most of all it was her eyes; they could go from shimmering with purity to dripping with sin with remarkable ease. I grabbed her legs and brought her knees to her shoulders, positioning myself slightly over her. This time when I slid back inside I felt myself so fucking deep I almost emptied myself right there; I could tell she felt it too because her eyes bulged in her head and her full mouth opened widely. I told you before she was getting loud? Now her moans were crashing against her bedroom door. Desperately, I pressed my mouth against hers, and I began pounding into her. She was soaked, and I felt her legs start to shake again. Brenda was almost screaming into my mouth as my inner thighs hugged her hips, and my thrusting accelerated even more. Her sweet hive was clamping on me, milking me, begging me to fill her, and finally my revelry blinded me and I erupted violently inside her, our sweat covered bodies all aquiver. Fuck, man. I collapsed right on top of her, and when she unfolded her legs I fell over to her side. We sounded like asthmatics finishing a marathon in last. Brenda curled up into my arms, her head underneath my nose. "Mmm," she cooed, nestling against me. "I want you to crush me against your chest... like a little pink slutty flower." I laughed and embraced her, holding her tightly against me. And then it hit. I needed a cigarette. Bad. You know it's addiction when it can take you from a girl like this. "I need a smoke," I said as I pulled away apologetically. "Well smoke in here," Brenda replied, pouting, "Just open the window." Smiling, I searched my pants and found my pack and lighter. I walked over to the window and turned its thin knob, pushing it outward. The cool air was barely moving, allowing me to light my cigarette with ease. With my first inhale, the smoke gently dove into my lungs, calming every stimulated nerve as I blew it back out. I can't remember a more satisfying cigarette, really. I already want another. Maybe I should ask the interviewer if I can smoke in here. That was when I felt her smooth arms tying themselves around my waist and her soft head resting itself in between my shoulder blades. I took another drag as I stared out at the dark night sky, gazing over the black blanket with its tiny embedded diamonds. I wanted to reach out and grab it, to pull it down through the window and wrap it tightly around us. After I finished we went back to bed together, kissing, touching, saying mushy things, you get the idea. We laid like that until morning, and when Brenda assured me that Julie wouldn't be awake until late today, I decided not to bother getting ready for my interview until after eight. I showered, and as per Brenda's request I dressed in her room in front of her. I impulsively kissed her goodbye, and when I left the house the first thing I did was light another cigarette. The next hour was cigarettes, coffee and me at a coffee shop near the bank. And here I am now, completely unable to concentrate. Grinning like an idiot. And I don't care. Now he's giving me a strange look. Like I'm mentally recounting a sexual episode or something. Not me. Never. "Mr. Anderson, you don't have much experience handling large amounts of money... how can I be sure you'd be able to handle this position?" I probably should have been paying attention to what this guy's been talking about. Listening to his jack-assy questions. Thinking about clever responses that will make him want to hire me. But I'm not really in the mood. Waiting's really not that bad anyway. Maybe I can take Brenda out to lunch. No, scratch that. Maybe I can meet up with her tonight somewhere. Shit, I work tonight. Well, whatever... right now I just need to sleep. And answer this guy, this dipshit dressed in a JC Penney suit who wants assurance that I can handle some job that I don't even need. "..I don't suppose I could sway you with a pinky swear?" Alone Again ... Supernaturally This is my entry for the 2007 Halloween Story Contest, the winner of which is solely decided by the votes of the readers. So please, enjoy this entry and then, please, take the time to vote and leave a comment on what you thought. Thank you, in advance, for taking the time to vote and thank you to OneLustyWench for her editing input. * * * Another night working late, something that was almost becoming second nature for Charlie. He knew there would be some of this when he took the promotion to managing editor, he just never imagined how much. Still, he didn't really mind that much. The entire office was empty except for him and he could actually get some work done with no one asking for this or that or the phone ringing with another project to get started on. Co-workers often asked how he could stand being in the big, old office building by himself. He joked the ghost kept him company. Everyone usually laughed at that comment, as the stories of an office ghost had been going around for years. The building was constructed in the early 1890s and was a beautiful art nouveau design that you rarely see anymore, with graceful curves replacing the sharp corners of the other buildings in the area. The ghost stories sprang from a story that during the building's construction, the foreman's young wife brought down the lunch he had forgotten on his way to work and, in the days before hard hats, was hit on the head by a bucket falling off one of the steel beams being put in for the roof and killed her instantly. The story says she continued to roam the building, looking for her husband to deliver the lunch she never had the chance to in life. In fact, the actual story was on one of many of the newspaper's previous front pages that were on display around the office, headlined "Mrs. Charlton Ellerson killed in construction mishap". It quoted the distraught husband on how he had no idea his wife was coming to the site after they had been fighting and how he would never have the chance again to "tell Linda how much he loved her." The story hung on the wall not so much because of the ghostly legend, but because the photo of Mrs. Ellerson was one of the first halftone photos printed in the newspaper. Still, this was the farthest thought from Charlie's mind right now as he kept crunching numbers to make sure he didn't go over budget as he worked out the staff schedule for the next two weeks. Who would be traveling where, who would be covering which shifts in the office. How was this all going to fit together? He still wasn't sure, but knew it had to happen in the next hour or two before he nodded off to sleep at his desk. Then he heard the sound of footsteps over his head ... the same kind you hear in an apartment when somebody upstairs starts to move around a little too actively. But this was a one-story building and the only upstairs was a roof that there was no outside access to. He just chalked it up to being tired and windy weather outside as he tried to focus again on his work. The sound caught his ear again, only this time it wasn't overhead -- instead coming from a back room. There shouldn't be anyone but him in the building, so curiosity got the better of him and he decided to investigate. Just in case though, he took the souvenir baseball bat he kept in the corner of his office. When he got to the back room though, there was nothing there he could see ... just a cold, drafty feeling as he walked inside. That struck him as kind of strange, as this was almost like a big closet in the middle of the building with no outside doors or windows. Still, he was going to turn and go back to work when he heard something. "Charlie ..." called out a voice that almost sounded like the wind. "Charlie, I've been looking all over for you. Where have you been?" He looked around, but was still alone in the room. Suddenly the door slammed, taking what limited light that had been coming into the room with it. He was in the dark, but somehow he knew he wasn't alone any more. "Charlie, have you been trying to avoid me," the voice called again. "I'm sorry about this morning. I've come to say I'm sorry and brought your lunch." "Who are you," Charlie screamed out into the darkness. "Who are you and how do you know who I am?" "It's Linda, your wife silly," the voice responded, still barely louder than a whisper in the wind. "I've come with your lunch and to let you know just how sorry I am about this morning." "I'm not married and I don't know any Linda," Charlie answered. "I'm confused." The voice paused for a minute, before answering in an almost disappointed voice. "I didn't realize you were so upset with me Charlie that you won't even acknowledge who I am or our life together," the voice answered. "Please forgive me. You were right, I had no business telling you that you needed to leave this job and start working for my father. You are the man and I am your wife ... please forgive me." "OK, OK, I forgive you," Charlie said, hoping this would make this nightmare come to an end, quietly looking to find the door as he spoke. "Maybe you had a point too. Can we discuss this later though, as I have to get back to work?" "Don't you have time for a little lunch break," the voice responded. "I brought your lunch and a little dessert too." "Really, I have a lot of work to do," Charlie answered before catching a glimpse of something moving toward him -- almost a shadow in the darkness. "Please," the voice pleaded. "I really wanted to show you how sorry I am..." And as the voice trailed off, he felt a cool presence almost wrap around his body and, if he didn't know better, kiss him. "Please," the voice continued. "Let me show you how sorry I am..." Another kiss sensation, only this one began to trail down his body -- lingering on his neck, his chest and on downward. Before long, a sensation other than fear was beginning to grow within him. "I shouldn't be doing this ... we shouldn't be doing this," Charlie said. "Something about this is wrong. But for some reason, it also feels so right." "I agree," the voice responded. The next thing Charlie knew, the cool sensation was engulfing his cock -- almost as if it had already been released from the trousers that contained its hardness. At this point, he decided he might as well enjoy whatever was happening to it and unzipped his pants to free his now rock-hard cock. As he looked down to see his cock pop out of his pants, he swore he saw someone looking back at him. Looking back with a face he had seen hundreds of times before as he walked into his office. It was the same face of a woman that had been dead for over 100 years. "Are you Linda Ellerson?" he heard himself ask, almost becoming disassociated with everything that was going on. "Of course I am silly," the voice responded. "At least I have been since the day you married me ... October 31, 1887." The face then turned back toward his cock and the coolness engulfed it again in what was perhaps the best blow job he had ever gotten in his life. He could feel it surround his cock with the sensation of a swirling breeze as it lightly seemed to bob up and down with a rhythm drawn from the deepest desires of his soul. It just seemed to inherently know when to speed up and when to slow down, when to work on just sucking and licking the head or plunging down to the base. Somehow, Linda just seemed to know what he wanted even before he could realize it himself. As the urge to erupt grew, the face looked up at him one more time. "Really Charlie, let me know that you forgive me for our fight this morning," the voice said. But before he could respond, the coolness took over his cock one more time and took him over the edge as he cried out in a pleasure he had never known before. The next thing Charlie knew, Mike -- the building a janitor -- was nudging him at his desk. "Hey buddy, looks like you fell asleep in here again," Mike said. "You need to be careful with all these late nights or the ghost is gonna get you." Charlie kind of chuckled at that. He really wasn't quite sure if this whole experience had been a dream or not. Still, Charlie knew he was almost looking forward to the next time he would be alone and working late -- just in case Linda wanted to bring him lunch.