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Ghost

By: Balaak



My husband and I bought an old mansion over the summer. It was the former home to a once famous movie director. Dan looked at it as a money pit, but I fell in love with the grandeur of the place. I was so excited during escrow; I would twirl through the halls when no one was looking, and couldn't wait to get the keys and call it our own.

Dan is an attorney for a small office that deals with insurance claims. We're successful enough to keep me at home, and to afford the occasional deals that come our way - like this mansion. Eight bedrooms, six baths and even a full ballroom that we would probably spend the rest of our lives fixing, decorating, and furnishing.

I met Dan when I worked at the bookstore. Yep, that's all I did was sell books, but it was a wonderful job that brought me close to the stories and lives of people who hungered to learn or be remembered. Dan would come in to sip coffee and look over the bestsellers. He had an eye for political books. Politics bores me, but Dan was so earnest that I couldn't help but smile whenever he would sheepishly ask around for one of "those" books. The store manager liked to hide certain books that didn't agree with his political philosophy, and Dan was from the wrong side of the political spectrum. After a while, Dan would just ask for me because I always showed him where they were or went and got them from the back. Pretty soon I was hearing the juvenile "Dan plus Linda, sitting in a tree..."

Good grief, I was in my thirties.

That little relationship grew though, and we were married three years later. That was four years ago, and what a happy four years.

After escrow closed on the house, we spent several days moving in and unpacking. I often found myself stopping what I was doing and just gazing around at the wonderful old home. I spent the better part of a whole morning just exploring every room and closet. I even poked around in the empty attic. I can't say I ever felt anything suspicious, but there were times I would feel like Dan had walked up next to me but when I would look, no one was there. There was nothing creepy about the incidents, because I never heard or physically felt anything. But a few times I thought I sensed things, like memories of the past or a nostalgia that nibbled at the edges of my conscious.

The first night Dan and I made love in the house, we had a fire going. Sex between us was always energetic and exhausting. I had no complaints in that department; I was fulfilled. Dan kept a goofy smile on my face almost all the time since we had sex at least four times a week. But that first night felt naughty, for some reason. I felt like we were being watched, but not in a sinister or creepy way. It almost felt like a neighbor was getting his kicks off of us through some wispy curtain. If anything, it made our sex more flamboyant, as if we were showing the watcher what he was missing. As we were laying there afterward, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction and love. Strange in that it seemed deeper than usual.

That night I dreamt of steam and machinery. I dreamt of flickering lights and horses. I don't know why. When I woke, I had a funny smell in my nose that reminded me of freshly ironed starch.

Dan left for work, it was Friday. There were boxes still to be unpacked, but I put little effort into working at it. I mostly spent the day gliding through the halls in my underwear. I don't always put on any more clothes than are necessary, and this day was no exception. Dan loves to see me dressed minimally, anyway. I was standing in the kitchen rinsing a glass when I felt Dan come into the room. He placed his hand lovingly on my shoulder and squeezed. I could feel a hint of his breath on my bare shoulder; he was about to kiss it.

I love it when he does that.

But something was different. His cologne wasn't right. This had a rich leather-cinnamon smell that wasn't as complex as the expensive stuff my husband wore. I jerked a little that someone had come into the house and was touching me, but when I turned there wasn't anyone there. I touched my own shoulder but couldn't recall the exact feeling. In fact, I wasn't even sure I had really felt a touch. I sniffed the air but couldn't bring that scent to mind.

I began to realize after lunch that I was feeling horny. I had a heat between my legs that just wouldn't quit. I've seen all those movies where scantily clad women spend all day touching themselves, but I wasn't one of them. I wanted the real thing and that meant waiting for Dan to get home. That also meant hoping that I could somehow arouse him for a day-after repeat of the previous night. We usually went at it and then skipped a day. I found myself despairing that he might be too tired or wore out from the previous night. The heat in me wasn't going away, either. The real shock came when I found myself staring out the backyard window at all the trees and rubbing myself through my panties - almost like I was absently scratching an itch.

No, I didn't feel itchy or anything, so why was I absently stroking my panties? I laughed at myself and turned away from the window, but then I stopped. What was wrong with me if I scratched an itch? Would that mean I was sick in the head? I felt angry at that thought. I tossed my hair back and turned to the window again. I stuck my foot up on the sill in a defiant move and slid my finger in through the side of my panties. I gave myself a stroke to show that there was nothing wrong with doing it.

Wow. Shivers ran through me. I needed Dan, bad.

The heat in me grew to the point where I headed to the bedroom. As I went I stripped off my lace. Off came the bra and panties. I put them on the bed and felt naughty. I almost felt like I was showing my nakedness to anonymous strangers. I felt shy and nervous. I felt like to step outside my bedroom would be like walking around some stranger's house naked.

That was silly. this was my house.

I walked out of the door and purposely wandered around the house. I could almost feel eyes roaming over my body, feeling my neck, sliding over my breasts, stroking my hips and probing my folds. My heat continued to grow. I wanted to stop and play with myself to relieve the ache, but I knew it would only be temporary. I kept moving. I did the twirls along the hallways and occasionally I found myself running my hands over my breasts and sometimes down to my mound. 

All I was doing was teasing myself.

I had worked mself to a fever pitch and needed Dan something terrible. I wasn't making the situation any better. I went back to the bedroom and slipped on my underwear and a sundress. I spent the rest of the day unpacking, like I should have been, and not playing with myself.

Unfortunately, Dan was late and tired. Fridays are often that way. He usually was very good about making up for it by taking me out on Saturday. He was so good to me. He fell asleep early, and I laid for a little bit in bed, reading. Twice, I found my hand wandering down to the heat that still sat there. I resolved to wait until tomorrow. I fell asleep arguing with myself. I needed to be fucked - no, just wait.

Dan must have sensed my need. I felt his hand slide down my lower stomach and under my panties. I felt his lips press against mine and his tongue slip into my mouth. I was groggy, coming out of my sleep slowly. I opened my legs for his hand and kissed him back. Our kiss grew more passionate and his finger rubbed across my clit.

Ohhhhh you just don't know how good that felt. It was achy and needy all at once.

I opened my eyes in the dark. I could see Dan above me, leaning over. Usually he just rolls over and loves me from the side. The kiss probed deep, and I could feel the passion reach down into my lungs, my heart. I felt like I could cry. He stopped kissing for a moment and I drew in a ragged, heart-pounding breath. My pussy was on fire and his touch was stoking the flames, fanning them higher. I could feel my juices flush through me and leak out.

In that wakening delirium, I noticed something odd. The cologne tickled my memory as not being Dan's usual fragrance.

I tried to speak to ask what he was wearing, that I liked it, but his mouth gently descended on mine again. His tongue lovingly stroked my own tongue and his lips pressed against mine sensually. I couldn't talk, but I was awake now. My body was on fire and my limbs felt weak. My heart was pounding in lust and my nipples were hard and aching to be touched.

As if reading my mind, Dan moved his head down and started nuzzling my breasts. This was new for Dan, he usually played with them using his hands. My eyes were adjusted to the light now, and despite my delirium, I added up the differences. Turning my head, I saw Dan laying next to me in bed, turned away. I snapped my head back to the man leaning over me who had expertly played my body like a violin. In the dim light, I could see him look at me. He smiled and put his finger over his lips. He had dark hair, slicked back in a style no longer worn in this day and age.

I tried to panic. I tried to act hysterical. I tried to act the way you would have expected me to react. I tried to be scared. But in the instant I was trying, I realized that I wasn't. Still, some man was leaning over me doing things he wasn't supposed to.

"Dan!" I croaked in a sleepy voice.

The stranger shook his head and lowered his tongue to my nipple. He was slow and deliberate in his actions. I gasped as electricity shot from my nipples down to the clit his fingers were lightly brushing. My body was responding and there was nothing I could do. I tried to reach an arm over to slap at Dan, but all I did was brush his back. The feelings were real; Dan's back, the strangers hot breath on my nipples, his finger that was so lovingly caressing my clit, and the sexual electricity that jolted back and forth across my body. I was awake, no doubt.

I noted in a fleeting glance that the windows were still shut, and the door closed and locked. There was no way this stranger could have gotten in, but I wasn't dreaming. Or was I? I had to be, didn't I? I could never respond to anyone sexually except for Dan. I had to be dreaming.

But it was so real.

The stranger looked up and leaned over me. The pent-up passion and lust from this afternoon was a burning fire that was eating its way out of the place I had locked it. I reached up and pulled his head down to mine. Our lips met and our tongues danced together in a slow dance of love. His simple cologne captivated me and I tried to draw in deep breaths of it. My head swam with the effort and the swoon of the kiss. His hand slid softly down my mound and his fingers lightly played ay my wet folds. I moaned in need.

I glanced once again at Dan, the love of my life. I would never hurt him. I made vows that I would never break. But did those vows include dreams? Would he hold me responsible for dreaming that I was unfaithful? Would I have to tell him?

The strangers finger dipped into my hungry opening and teased my entrance. He traced the rim of the opening and took little dips into my very needy pussy. Lust swirled in me like a whirlpool and made me want to scream an animal cry of demand.

Should I try once more to wake Dan? If this wasn't a dream, I couldn't just let this man take me right here in our bed. I couldn't, could I? What if Dan woke up?

That thought made me try again. "Dan! Wake up!"

My words were clear and loud. They were sharp and vibrant. This wasn't a dream. Dan even stirred a little.

"Your husband won't wake." I turned to see the stranger smiling at me. His voice seemed distant, a whisper, but insistent. His finger stopped teasing and instead slid into my pussy until it was fully extended.

"Unnhhh!" His finger radiated heat and lust. I was on fire. I wanted to be fucked, badly. I wanted to be fucked, by him. My mind was torn. I loved Dan so much, but this stranger had me ready and wanting. If he was a dream, what would it hurt? If it wasn't a dream, how come Dan didn't wake up? Was I just trying to convince myself that I was dreaming so that I could make love to this dashing-looking man without feeling guilty?

The stranger stood up and began removing his clothes. I was partly excited and partly horrified. If it was a dream, I was going to get what I wanted, what I needed. If it wasn't, then surely as soon as this man climbed into bed, Dan would wake up. I was frozen with the conflict.

The stranger stripped down. His lean figure spoke of healthy eating and honest work. Maybe even honest play. When he stepped out of his pants, I saw his love tool. It was beautiful. I felt guilty at that, because I had only ever called Dan's penis beautiful. This was so much more so. It was sleek and strong. Its smooth texture called to me and I found myself reaching for it. The man smiled and kneeled one knee on the bed. I gripped his erection with a shaky hand. It was so warm and smoother than it looked. I squeezed it and stroked my hand in wonder up and down its length. I wanted so bad to be fucked by it. What was I thinking?

The man allowed me a few strokes before he stood back up and climbed onto the bed down by my feet. The bed moved. I wasn't dreaming, no way. But Dan didn't wake, either.

Should I make one more attempt to wake Dan? I opened my legs for the man as he crawled between them. My husband would not approve of me not trying. Sex was something reserved only for him and I had never broken that vow. The man's tongue touched my folds and then my clit.

"OOHHH!" I burst out. The passion had been locked away for too long and teased. My back arched and my whole body quivered on his tongue. Long groans came from me as his wet tongue teased my clit. My hands were in his hair, pulling, holding. This had to be a dream. I was moaning so loud the neighbors would be calling the cops. My hips bucked and I bit back several loud wails of lust. If it was a dream, I would have woken myself by now. No dream of any kind of such intensity lasted so long.

I didn't care.

If Dan was going to sleep through this, then that was fine. I was getting what I wanted and I wasn't going to take blame for it in the morning. I was shaking so hard that the bed was quivering. Dan stirred at that, but didn't wake. His tongue trailed up from my desperate vagina and worked up my flat belly. I wondered if my shaking was some kind of nervous convulsions. Was I sick? I've never shaken so hard or long. His tongue stopped at my breasts and he gently flicked at my nipples.

I was moaning so loud I was hurting my own ears. Dan grunted and stirred restlessly, but I was too aroused to worry about it. I realized that I was clutching theman's skin and trying to pull him up.

I had been through enough. I needed him in me.

This strange man, smelling of something mysterious but forgotten, moved up between my quivering legs. His manhood touched me and I thought my head would explode if he didn't hurry up and stick it in me.

"Mmm yes, please... yes, stick it in, oh please, yes..." I heard myself begging. Was this really me?

The handsome man with the dark slicked back hair and piercing eyes just smiled at me. His hips squirmed as his head toyed at my entrance.

I wanted to scream.

Without warning, his hips thrust slowly forward. I felt his head part my lips. I'm not sure whether it was his pushing or my vagina pulling, but his warm shaft stretched open my hungry pussy and slid inside.

"...yesssss..." It came out in a hiss. It felt so good.

His hips continued to tilt as he thrust his beautiful penis into me. Inch by inch, he slowly filled me up. I felt him everywhere inside and it felt wonderful. When he pushed harder and sank the last inch in, I thought my heart would stop. He held it there for a couple of wonderful minutes as I regained my breath. The feel of his penis in me was fantastic. When he started to slide out, I wanted to cry in loss. But he was just getting started. I felt like I was getting the perfect massage. The ache that was so insistent was being rubbed just the right way. He was the perfect size. 

He began a very slow thrusting. In and out, in and out. His hard penis gently speared me over and over.

"OH... MY... GOSH..." Tears leaked out of my eyes at the wonderful sensation that radiated from my vagina. I looked over at Dan, sleeping while I was being fucked so perfectly next to him. If he had rolled over, I would have to tell him to go back to sleep; that I wasn't done. The bed rocked to our fucking for several minutes.

I felt the spiral of my orgasm start when the man leaned down and kissed me while still pumping. His mouth connected to mine, our tongues fucking each other's mouths in tempo with our lower bodies. The tingles started to build and radiate outward from my very happy vagina. He started thrusting just a little harder, deeper, and at just the right angle. He hit all my buttons and the constant stimulation drove me over the edge.

I pulled on his muscular butt as waves of blinding pleasure washed over me. I felt him flex under my hands and his shaft swell in me. I pulled on him as hard as I could as I exploded. My muscles contracted and released almost painfully, draining me of my ability to think. With great satisfaction, I felt the man release a flood of sperm deep in my womb. The wetness spread and filled me. The waves started to recede, leaving me hyper-sensitive, and he was still pumping into me. The wetness was hot and so satisfying. I could feel it leaking out of me already.

Dan grunted and rolled over onto his back. I tried to ignore it, but then he rolled and faced me, waking up. Suddenly I was grasping air. I looked around wildly as Dan leaned up on his elbow.

"Is everything okay, dear?" he asked, sleep still in his voice.

I drew my arms in on myself at the loss, the sudden emptiness of the man's disappearance. I realized my legs were wide open and the covers off. Sperm was gushing out of me and all I wanted to do was cry. 

Ghost Block



The night was cool and clear, as the stars gleamed down from the heavens upon the peaceful apartment complex. Each building seemed to be its own "being" with its lined windows with the white trims. Most were dark this time of night only a few scattered lights on here and there making the buildings seem like patchwork quilts.

As peaceful as this place had seemed, such was not the case. The four blocks that made the complex were the home of Drugs, violence, and sometimes death. Each side of the complex had its own "name" The first two blocks coming from the avenue were known as "The Strip." Any drug you could think of was sold from the cross avenue down the street the split those two blocks.

Her home was across the street from there. On what was known as "The Ghost Block." Across from her bedroom window stood the powerhouse, the source of life to the complex and where her side of the complex had gotten its name from.

Legend had it that when the complex was built, a worker had been working on the power lines on the tall chimney like tower of the power house, when he plummeted to his death. The worker's death was labeled a mystery. The coroners had found nothing to cause his death. He was not a drinker or a drug addict, so he had not been under the influence at the time of the accident. What struck the police officers as strange was that the coroners had said it seemed as if he was pushed off the tower, yet at the time of the accident no one had been in the building at all, save for the worker.

The case was closed, being called "unsolved" and people went on with their lives. The legend of the tower lived on for decades as more people stated they saw something on the tower late at night. The girl whose room overlooked the power house had heard this story long ago, in a time when she stayed up late at night frightened because of the tree beside her old building scratching her window. Her old building was next door to the power house.

As the years went by and she grew older, the legend began to die down. The girl was now in her early twenties, and though most had forgotten about the legend, she had not. Night after night the legend plagued her, and night after night she would look out of her window up to the tower to see if she would see anything.

One night she did. A faint blue-white glow coming from the very top of the power house tower. She squinted her eyes and canted her head as she looked up through her barred windowed wondering if her eyes were merely playing tricks on her. She shook her head. It was just a figment of her imagination. Her mother had always told her imagination would be her death one day.

The following night she again looked out the window up to the power house tower, and again she saw the same pale blue-white glow. She pursed her lips thinking this time she would go investigate for herself.

She left her building and quickly went across the street to the power house. She took a hair pin from her hair as she approached the power house door. She took a deep breath as her gaze traveled up and down the strong, red painted, metal door. She worked quickly, her finger tips holding onto the hair pin as she placed it in the locking mechanism of the door knob. After a few minutes of gentle jingles, the door slowly swung open. 

She scrunched up her little button nose as the stench of mildew and dirt filled her nostrils. She waited a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the main room before she looked around.

Generators lined the walls, The ones for the lighting along wall facing the door, and the ones for heat and hot water were lined against the other two walls. She spotted a staircase and slowly started to walk up trying not to make a sound.

The stairway led her to the roof. The hinges of the old iron hatch creaked she pressed her weight upon it. She peeked her head through the hatch and gulped lightly as she now stood face to face with the ominous tower.

Shaky hands took hold of the tower's metal rungs as she slowly ascended the tall ladder that would take her to the top of the tower. Sweat began to bead upon her brow as she neared the top. She let out a skittish giggle feeling foolish. The boys at work will have a field day tomorrow when they find out how frightened she had been of a childhood ghost story, she thought to herself as she had finally reached the top.

Much to her surprise, there was nothing up there, no dull glow, no ghosts, no nothing. She quirked a brow, a bit disappointed wondering what all the fuss had been about this old tower. She shrugged her shoulders with a sigh and turned to look over the tower's edge. She crossed her arms leaning them on the black metal fencing.

Her mind had drifted back to the worker that had fallen to his death. She contemplated how he could have just fallen off the tower when there was a fence, and after all years it was still as strong, not one place bent or missing. 

Lost in her thoughts she didn't see the glow appear behind her or feel the hands placed on her back. The next thing she remembered was seeing her life flash before her eyes and the rush of wind blowing past her . . . Then all went dark.



Ghost Boyfriend



Jeff held Courtney's hand as she cried. Nick, Courtney's long time boyfriend of 2 years had passed away in a horrible car accident. Nick was also Jeff's best friend since grade school. The funeral ceremony was short and Courtney felt as if her world had been torn apart. Nick had been a wonderful, caring, and understanding boyfriend. They would stay up late at night talking about how they would marry after college and live happily ever after. Now all of that was gone. Courtney dried her eyes with a tissue and everyone began to walk outside ready to head on over to the cemetery. 

The clouds were looking dark outside as if it was about to rain. Once at the cemetery Courtney held on to Jeff's hand for support. She knew he was the only other person that cared about Nick as much as she did, besides Nick's family. Cried and sobs could be heard as the priest said his prayers. Courtney didn't cry. She was all out of tears. She recalls a few days before when she was given the awful news. She cried day and night almost nonstop. Being in college, she got an excuse from her professors to stay away from class for at least a week. Luckily she lived alone otherwise living with a roommate like she did last year would have killed her. She needed time alone.

After the funeral, Courtney decided to head home. Jeff watched her leave in her car and waved to her. She was beautiful, he had to admit. Her hair was long, blonde and silky. Her eyes were a baby blue and her skin light. Her rosy cheeks, perfect eyebrows and pouty lips alone could make any guy fall for her. She was very petite and short standing at only 5'2". Jeff had fallen hard for Courtney ever since he first met her. 

He still recalled Nick introducing them 2 years ago. Courtney was sweet, sensitive, smart, sexy and witty. What else could a guy what? She was perfect. His dream girl, but he had to stay away. No way on earth would he ever let a girl come between his friendship. He recalled watching Nick and Courtney kissing and he watched. He watched how his best friend slid his hand up and down Courtney's beautiful hourglass shaped body. He'd gotten so hard that he just had to look away. Now Nick was gone, yet Jeff still felt like making a move on Courtney would be wrong.

Lying in the bathtub, Courtney relaxed in a bubble bath. She'd been through hell that week with all the funeral things going on and trying to keep up with her schoolwork. She closed her eyes for a moment and could faintly hear Nick's voice humming to her as he used to when she took a bubble bath. He'd hum as he washed her neck and back. He used to tell her about his day and how much he loved her. It was the most wonderful time of her life. Now Nick was gone. It was time to begin life all over again. She wondered how long that would take her.

~One Year Later~

Nick slicked his brown hair back and his green eyes pierced at himself in the mirror. He had to admit he never looked better of felt better in his entire life. He recalled the accident and he still recalled Courtney his true love. She'd been the first girl he'd been with sexually and emotionally. And Jeff. He remembered his best friend in the whole world. A friend that had been his friend through thick and thin. A kind of friend that you could trust with your own life. He missed them both but often got to get a peak at them. He'd watched Courtney at school, when she slept and when she talked out loud as if she knew he was present. 

Jeff had done well in school despite his best friends death. Jeff's short black curly hair and dark deep blue eyes could make almost any girl swoon. He was charming, intelligent and very polite. Nick often wondered why Jeff never had a girlfriend. He said he was always too busy with school but Nick knew there had to be something else behind it all. 

* * *

"Courtney? Are you busy?" Courtney heard a deep masculine voice speaking to her. She looked up to see Jeff standing there holding his backpack. 

"Hey Jeff. No I'm just studying for my history exam. I swear if I don't pass this, I'll never graduate college."

Jeff laughed. "You're smart Courtney you can do it. If you need any help I'm here."

Courtney looked at Jeff's handsome face and smiled. "Thank you. 

They continued to talk and Nick sat near by listening. He noticed his best friend's eyes glowed as he stared at Courtney. Nick had never really noticed before. He always sensed Jeff might have a small crush on Courtney, not that he could blame him. He watched them converse for a while and then decided to disappear. 

* * *

Back in heaven, Nick sat quietly and looked around. He knew he shouldn't be watching Courtney or Jeff but something told him he had to. Something told him his job on Earth wasn't finished. 

* * *

Jeff lay on his bed early the next morning and ran his hands down his body until he found his hard cock. He gripped it tightly and moaned quietly. He'd spent the entire day with Courtney the day before. He could still recall the smell of her perfume, the way she talked so softly, and the way she looked at him with her eyes glowing. He was in love. He'd fallen head over heels. 

He wanted to ask her out as more than just a friend but thought it was still too risky. Guilt swept over him thinking he'd still in some odd way be stealing his best friends girlfriend. He couldn't do that to Nick. Nick had been his best friend since they were children. Nick had been a friend you never forget. 

Jeff began to stroke his cock slowly as his mind filled with thoughts of Courtney's pretty face, little body, and long tanned legs. He'd accidentally touched her hand several times and each time, her touch alone would entice him. The way she smiled at him made his heart flutter. Courtney was his dream girl. 

"Hmmmgghhhh," Jeff moaned stroking his hard member faster now. He had a good tight grip on it and felt his veins pulsing and his balls swelling up full of cum ready to be released. He closed his eyes envisioning kissing Courtney softly on her pouty lips. His hands would roam her entire body touching every curve she had. He'd kiss her neck softy and lightly suck on it leaving her soft little red marks. His hands would move to her breasts as he caressed them over her top feeling her nipples harden underneath the fabric of her top. She'd moan softly into his ear and beg for more of his touch, beg for his cock....

"Ahhhhh fuck!" Jeff cried out as he felt a long hard shot of sperm shooting out of his throbbing cock. The long ropes of warm cum shot out furiously. Jeff groaned and felt his toes curl. He lay in bed for a minute catching his breath and feeling his cock begin to soften in his cum covered hands. 

* * *

Courtney woke up the next morning as looked out her window. She could see several of her classmates running outside, as it was their usual jogging time. She groaned not wanting to get out of bed. She wore nothing but a long nightshirt and soft pink cotton panties to bed. Her nightshirt was lifted up above her waist. Courtney looked up at the ceiling and smiled.

"I miss you Nick. I miss you so much."

She lifted her shirt up all the way exposing her small breasts. Her nipples were so hard and felt incredibly sensitive as she touched them. Her fingers ran gently over each breast giving her the sensation of wanting to masturbate. It'd been so long or at least it seemed like an eternity since she last had any kind of sexual pleasure. She remembered the last time she and Nick had sex. He'd been so gentle with her that night. He'd moved in and out of her so slowly at first letting her enjoy the feel of his cock inside of her. She remembered the look of love in his eyes as he began to move faster inside of her. She ran her hand all over his skin feeling him, so hot and sweaty. 

"Ooh God!" Courtney called out. One hand stayed on her breasts and the other moved down. She ran it passed her flat belly and it stopped once it was between her legs. She could feel her panties soaking wet. Her finger rubbed up and down over the cotton fabric where her clit is. She moaned softly and pushed her panties to the side. She spread her lips open and flicked her clit with her finger so fast. Her little body squirmed on the bed as she began to pleasure herself. 

"Oohhh Ahhrrrhhhhhh!" 

Her finger slid into her pussy. She could feel she was wet and so warm. Her juices seeped out coating her finger with her honey. Her finger slid in and out of her opening and so many thoughts ran through her mind. First Nick came to mind. His mouth between her legs and his wonderful lovemaking. But then, images of Jeff came to her mind. Courtney tried to fight it. She didn't want to think of Jeff. He was a friend that's all. Nothing but a dear true friend. 

"Mmmmgghhhh!" Courtney wailed as she thought more about Jeff.

She loved the way he looked at her lately. She'd noticed his stares of admiration before Nick had passed away. She always blushed but never thought about Jeff in more than a friendly way. She was in love with Nick and Jeff was nothing but a friend. 

Ok so she had secretly thought about kissing Jeff. Maybe even letting him feel her breasts. Letting him run his hands down between her legs and fingering her. Making her moan loudly as he sucked on her nipples. They were just fantasies. Something she would never act upon, but Oh God he was gorgeous, she had to admit. 

Courtney felt her heart racing and her body tighten up as she began to climax. Her nipples got so big and her body trembled. "Mmmmmm Jeff!" She found herself blurting out his name. 

Nick knew what was going on. He knew he was in a better place, and Courtney was still on Earth and needed to be happy again. Jeff could make her happy. He had to find a way to make them both realize that they belonged together now. They both had a chance at love. 

* * *

Jeff was studying for one of his anatomy exams on evening when he heard a noise outside his window. He took a peak outside and saw nothing but trees swaying from the hard wind. The sky looked dark and a sudden sound of thunder was heard. Jeff frowned. He had no idea it would rain that evening. He closed his window and his blinds. Heading back to his studying Jeff's eyes widened and his breath grew short. He stood there frozen as he looked at Nick standing before him. Nick grinned at his friend but Jeff was speechless.

"Jeff?" Nick asked softly.

Jeff still didn't respond. His heart was pounding so hard he swears he almost had a heart attack. It was either Nick's ghost or Jeff was hallucinating. He stepped back feeling so frightened. 

"Jeff, please talk to me. It's me Nick."

Jeff was still dumbfounded. It had to be a dream! This wasn't real. Nick was dead. It was all his own imagination. Jeff gulped and took a deep breath. "N-nick?"

Nick nodded. "Yes it's me. Please don't freak Jeff. I know I'm dead. I'm a ghost."

"N-nick. I m-miss you!" Jeff stammered and had tears running down his handsome face.

Nick felt tears swelling up in his eyes. "I know. I miss you too. And Courtney. Oh God I still love her."

"Why are you here? I mean I'm glad you are here but..." Jeff's words trailed off.

Nick walked closer to his friend. He put his arms around him and Jeff hugged his friend back. It felt almost like old times when they used to bond the way best friends should bond. Jeff couldn't feel Nick but he knew Nick could feel him. "Nick, Courtney still loves you. I know she does."

Nick took a look at his friend. "And you love her don't you?"

Jeff wanted to look away but he was afraid if he did, Nick would be gone. "Yes I do. I'm sorry."

"You've always been in love with her haven't you?"

Jeff nodded as he wiped his tears. "Yes. But I never did anything with her Nick. I swear! I'd never do that to you."

Nick smiled. "I know you wouldn't. You're a true friend Jeff. I'm sorry I never got to tell you how much I appreciated your friendship when I was alive. I did. I still carry you and Courtney in my heart."

Jeff stared at Nick in amazement. He hadn't realized how much he missed his best friend until that moment. "I'm glad you came to visit me. Are you going to be able to do that more often?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I can. It's weird you know. I think I got these strange powers now. I can make myself disappear or appear whenever I want. I was going to appear for Courtney, but I had to talk to you first. Jeff I need you to make Courtney happy."

Jeff looked shocked. "W-what? Me? What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Jeff it's time you go on with life. I know you and Courtney are denying each other because of me. Well guess what? I'm gone! You two deserve one another. I mean I can't think of any other guy who could make Courtney as happy as you can. I trust you to take care of my girl Jeff. I love you both and you both mean so much to me. I need you two to take care of each other and love one another."

Jeff looked uneasy. "Nick, she was your girl. I can't-"

"That's right! She was my girl. But she isn't anymore. Life has changed and you have to change with it Jeff. I know you will make her happy. She needs you."

Jeff smiled shyly. "I love her so much Nick. She's all I think about."

"Yes I know you do. Please go to her."

Jeff nodded. "No I can't. She probably doesn't feel the same way about me. I mean she was so in love with you."

"Well she's going to find someone else eventually. I mean she's only 21. I don't think she's going to spend the rest of her life mourning over me right? So it's your chance Jeff to get the girl of our dreams."

Jeff laughed quietly and hugged his friend again. "I love you man."

"I love you too."

Jeff sighed. "Ok now can you at least talk to Courtney too? She probably wants to see you again. It'll be such a treat for her."

"I don't know if I can. I can try. I think I can only appear for some people."

"She must be studying right now. She studies at the same time I do."

"Yes she does."

"Can you come with me? I'm so nervous."

Nick winked. "Yup I sure can. I won't let you down Jeff."

Jeff left his blue jeans on and changed into a black t-shirt and put on his boots. They both headed out to Courtney's apartment to see if Jeff and Courtney could admit their love for one another.

* * *

Courtney was frustrated over her chemistry homework. She lay on her bed in her long baby blue t-shirt that used to belong to Nick. Her blonde hair was hanging down and her long legs dangled off the bed. 

Knock! Knock!

Courtney got startled. She raised her body up from the bed and realized it was almost nine that night. She wondered if it was Jeff. She hoped it would be.

"Jeff!" Courtney's smile grew as she saw Jeff standing in front of her door.

"Hey. Are you busy?" Jeff couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked.

"Not really just doing some chemistry. Come in."

Jeff stepped in and Nick followed. Nick closed his eyes and hoped Courtney could see him, but no matter how hard he tried, Courtney didn't seem to see him there. Jeff looked at Nick nervously. He took a seat on Courtney's bed and she sat next to him."

"So what's going on? What brings you here this time of night?"

Jeff took a deep breath before speaking. "Well, I saw someone tonight. Someone you and I know."

Courtney looked puzzled. "Who?"

"Nick."

Courtney stood up looking so angry. "Stop it Jeff. Stop playing like that. It's not funny."

Jeff looked up at her. She looked shaky. "I'm not playing. Courtney it's true. I saw him. I even talked to him."

"Jeff, have you been drinking?"

"No. You know I don't drink. Courtney please listen to me."

"I've heard enough. Jeff I hate to be rude but please leave."

"No Courtney please, listen to me."

"I said leave!" Courtney's bottom lip trembled as she was beginning to cry.

Jeff stood up and tried to touch Courtney's shoulder. She moved away from him and tears rolled down her face. "Courtney he's here in the room with us right now as we speak."

Courtney sobbed. "Why are you doing this to me? Jeff please stop talking this nonsense!"

Nick watched as his friend struggled to tell Courtney about his appearance. Nick took a deep breath and wished. He wished hard and suddenly felt as if he was fading away. Jeff was about to speak, when suddenly he felt his breath go short and his body tremble. 

Courtney looked scared. "Jeff? Are you OK?"

Jeff didn't respond. He just kept shaking for a moment and then fell on the floor on his knees. Courtney rushed to him trying to help him out. "Jeff please talk to me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be that way with you. Jeff!"

Jeff looked up at her finally but it wasn't Jeff. It was Nick. Nick was inside Jeff's body now. Courtney looked into Jeff's eyes but realized there was something different. It was something so familiar. She held Jeff's hands in hers and felt that touch. The touch that used to make her get so excited. It was Nick's touch. 

"Jeff? Nick?" Courtney asked confused.

"It's me babe. It's Nick."

Courtney stepped back again and her heart pounded. It felt like a dream. Maybe it was a dream, but it felt so real! Was Nick trapped inside of Jeff's body? Had he come down from heaven to talk to her?

"I don't believe it! Nick! Is that really you?"

Nick nodded. "Yes it is. I've missed you so much. I love you Courtney."

Courtney was confused. She slowly walked to Jeff and put her hand on his face. Jeff put his arms around her and even though it was Jeff hugging her, she could feel Nick's touch. 

"I can't believe it's you. This has to be a dream."

Nick laughed. "It's not."

Courtney began to cry and she held Nick and Jeff at the same time. "I love you Nick. I love you so much. I miss you."

"I miss you too. You know I still love you and I always will."

Courtney felt him cup her chin and make her look up at him. She saw Jeff's face but still felt Nick's presence. "Jeff loves you too you know that? He loves you more than just a friend. Please give him a chance."

Courtney wanted to protest, but she couldn't. She was very fond of Jeff. How could she not be? He was kind, gentle, smart, and sweet. He was now her best friend. Someone you could trust your life with. She had to admit she loved Jeff too. There had been so many times she thought about him sexually and emotionally. He was the best thing that she had ever since Nick.

"B-but he's your best friend. Isn't that wrong?"

Nick nodded. "No it's not. It's very right. I want you to be happy and I want Jeff to be happy. The only way that'll happen is if you two admit that you love one another and want to be with each other. Courtney life is too short for you to be depriving yourself of true love."

Courtney bit her lower lip and blushed. "I do like Jeff. No, I love Jeff. I love him so much." It felt good to admit that.

Nick felt his heart flutter with happiness. Finally his best friend and his girl would be together. They'd be able to enjoy each other for a long time to come. Maybe even for eternity. Nick leaned down to kiss Courtney's lips. He'd missed her kisses. The way she always kissed so softly and the way her tongue used to slide with his. Courtney's toes curled as she kissed Jeff's lips but felt Nick's kiss. It was so exciting and emotional. Tears ran down harder on her pretty face. Her heart raced and Nick began to slowly lift up her shirt. It's been his t-shirt. His brother had gotten it for him one Christmas, but it was too large. He gave it to Courtney since she woke up one morning and slipped it on after they had made love for the first time. She walked around in it making him want her more. She modeled it for him and he never forgot that moment. He never would. She still wore the shirt that brought so many sweet memories back. He knew even though she loved Jeff, that he would always have a special place in her heart. 




Ghost Boyfriend



Courtney felt the shirt being lifted up her body. She raised her arms letting Nick take it off. She stood there topless; wearing only her bikini cut baby blue lace panties. Nick began to drool He hadn't forgotten how gorgeous she looked half naked and even more beautiful completely naked. 

"I have to go Courtney," Nick said touching her face.

Courtney opened her eyes and knew this was right. "I know. I will always think of you. I will see you someday in heaven."

Nick felt like crying. "Yes you will. Until then, Jeff will take care of you. He'll love you as much as I did."

Courtney closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Goodbye Nick. Goodbye. I love you."

Nick kissed her lips softly. "I'll always love you. Goodbye my love."

Jeff saw the world spinning for a moment and felt dizzy. He vision blurred and then he opened to his eyes. His jaw dropped as Courtney stood there topless smiling at him. 

"Courtney, y-your so...wow...so..."

Courtney moved towards him and put her arms around him. "I love you Jeff. I slowly fallen in love with you."

Her words touched Jeff's heart. "I love you too Courtney. I'm so in love with you. I've loved you since the first day I met you. You're an incredible woman."

Courtney tiptoed and reached up to kiss Jeff. She could now distinguish the way Jeff's lips felt compared to Nick's. Their lips touched and parted. Their tongues made their way into each other's mouths. The kiss they shared was full of passion and love. 

Jeff felt his cock growing inside of his jeans. The more he kissed the girl of his dreams, the more he got hot. He ran his hands up and down her bare back and down to her buttocks. They felt so firm. He squeezed them gently with his hand and moved his mouth down to her neck. He licked and kissed her neck gently. His lips began to softly suck on it, leaving little red marks on Courtney's neck. Courtney moaned tenderly as she enjoyed her new lover's touch and kisses. 

Jeff moved lower and his mouth found Courtney's breasts. He took turns kissing each breast and once he came across to her nipples, he felt his mouth almost drool. He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked on it gently. Courtney threw her head back and moaned louder. Jeff's mouth felt so good sucking on her nipple and his tongue flicked it sending chills all over her body. 

"Mmmm more! Oh Jeff this feels so good!" Courtney purred.

Jeff kept licking and sucking on Courtney's big pink hard nipples. He picked her little body up from the floor and carried her over to her bed. Courtney's body lay on the bed and she stared up at her lover. Jeff began to remove his shirt showing Courtney his hard chest and stomach. Courtney gulped, feeling mesmerized at his beautiful body. Jeff then leaned down to take off his boots and socks. He then unbuttoned his pants and looked down at Courtney who's eyes were filled with curiosity. His eyes trailed her almost naked body. She was an absolute goddess! Her skin was so soft and she carried a nice tan. Her tummy was flat and had a small silver naval ring. Nick had been so lucky to be with this beautiful woman almost every night. What man wouldn't be jealous?

Courtney spread her legs teasing her new lover. She smiled up at him and he was almost speechless. Her baby blue panties were there, visible for his eyes to see. There was a little wet spot on them from Courtney's honey. 

"I'm so ready to be with you Courtney. I hope you don't think I'm going to fast, it's just that you are so irresistible. You don't know how many times I've dreamed about this." Jeff whispered as he leaned down grabbing both sides of Courtney's panties. Courtney lifted her hips off the bed inviting him to strip her down. Jeff moved Courtney's panties down her smooth legs and almost choked as he stared at her amazing little pussy. She was completely shaven and he couldn't wait to taste her to feel how baby smooth she was. 

He moved her body up and he dove down between her legs ready to taste just how sweet she really was. As his face got close to her pussy, he could already smell her feminine scent. It was incredibly intoxicating! He spread her soft pink lips open, and her little wet pink clit peaked out. He ran his tongue up and down on it very slowly feeling her get more wet and squirm on the bed.

"Ooh lick me! Taste me Jeff!" Courtney implored. 

Jeff licked her faster now hearing her innocent moans and feeling her juices begin to drip down his lips. She tasted so delicious, just like he thought she would. His lips clamped on to her clit and he sucked on it hard making Courtney almost scream out in pleasure. He looked up at her and her eyes were closed and her mouth was open as she tried to gasp for air. Her body kept squirming from the intense pleasure. 

"I'm going to cum Jeff! Oh Goddddd!" Courtney exclaimed.

Jeff sucked her clit harder now and felt her tense up. He slid a finger inside of her and could feel her pussy clasp it. She bit her lower lip and began to moan loudly. 

"Oohhh Jeff! Mmmgghhhhhhh!" 

Jeff felt her warm honey oozing out of her and into his mouth. Her taste was absolutely delicious. She came for what seemed to be an eternity until Jeff felt her body slowly get back at ease. Her breathing was still heavy. He watched her chest heave up and down and her nipples were engorged. Jeff parted his lips letting Courtney's clit slip out slowly. 

He made his way up kissing her body. She smelled so wonderful. Once his made his way wall the way up her body his lips met with hers. They shared her taste in their kiss. Courtney moaned into their kiss.

"You taste so delicious!" Jeff groaned.

Courtney looked into his eyes. "I love you. It feels good to finally be able to tell you."

Jeff felt his whole body get excited. "I love you too. I love you so much!"

"Make love to me Jeff," Courtney begged.

Jeff kissed her lips softly and stood up to remove his boxers. Courtney raised herself up on her shoulders to look at her new lover's cock. She wondered what he had to offer her. Jeff slide down his boxers and Courtney gasped. Jeff's cock stood up straight and so hard. He was a nice size about seven inches long or so. Nice thick mushroom head dripping with precum. Courtney wondered what he would feel like inside of her. She'd only had one lover, that had been Nick, but now she was ready to experience love once again. 

Jeff moved to the bed once again and climbed on top of Courtney. She looked up at him and put her hands on his shoulders as he positioned himself. Jeff hadn't had sex in such a long time. It'd been well over a year. He couldn't wait to be inside his dream girl. The girl he'd secretly fantasized about for two years. 

"I've dreamed about this moment Courtney. Now you're letting me have this and I can't believe it. It's like a dream come true. Tell me I'm not dreaming."

Courtney smiled. "You're not dreaming. This is so real. You and I making love is going to be so real."

Jeff had never been more excited or turned on by any other female in his entire youth. He grabbed his throbbing cock and began to poke at Courtney's tight opening. Jeff groaned and felt his cock slowly being swallowed up by Courtney's pussy. She felt so tight! His cock was being smothered by Courtney's lovely cunt. He kept sliding his cock in until every inch was buried inside of Courtney. 

Courtney shrilled in pure delight. Having a cock inside of her felt so incredible. It was like heaven all over again. He felt different than Nick. They both had their own way of making love. She was learning Jeff's way now. Courtney put her legs around Jeff's waist pulling him closer to her. 

"I feel you so deep inside of me Jeff. You feel sooo good! Oooh yes!"

Jeff began to move in and out of his dream girl. She wasn't a dream anymore. She was his now. He would take care of her just like his best friend had told him to. 

"Courtney, I love the way you feel! I can't believe I'm inside of you!"

He kept pumping her and they both moaned in pleasure together. They had become one that night. They both felt so happy to finally be able to find love with one another. 

Jeff felt his balls swell up full of his cum ready to shoot out into the girl he loved with all of his heart. Courtney could feel his cock twitching inside of her and she knew he was about to cum. Nick's cock used to do the same thing before he exploded inside of her. Courtney felt a rush of excitement go through her entire body. She almost lifted her hips off the bed and then it happened. She was climaxing. She was cumming on Jeff's cock. 

"Ooh Jeff! I'm cumming! I'm...c-cumming!"

Jeff felt Courtney tense up and his cock couldn't take it anymore. "I'm cumming with you love. Oh Courtney feel my seed!"

"I feel it! Oh God!" Courtney was in bliss. 

Jeff stared into Courtney's eyes as they both came together. It was a beautiful moment. A moment one does not ever forget. Courtney felt her pussy being flooded by her lover's cum. It was so warm and spurting out so hard inside of her. They were both breathing so hard enjoying each other. After cumming, Jeff slide out of Courtney's pussy and lay next to her. He stroked her hair and touched her face. She was an angel. His angel. 

"It's strange how some things happen for a reason huh?" Courtney asked softly.

Jeff nodded. "Yes it is. It was so hard when we lost Nick but now look at us. I know Nick is happy for us too."

"I am happy for you. I'm so happy for you both," Nick said out loud but Courtney and Jeff could not hear. They were basking in their own happiness. Nick took one last look the lovely couple and disappeared. He'd always watch over them and make sure Jeff would treat Courtney right. The way she deserved to be treated. The way he would have if he'd still been alive. 

The End.



Ghost Ch. 02



My husband Dan didn't understand what had happened that night because I refused to tell him. My tears had ignited his concern, but like the man he is he couldn't discern any more than my discomfort. Not knowing what else to say, I diverted his concern by mumbling about a bad dream.

Had this been a bad dream? How could something bad feel so good? It certainly wasn't a dream at the time, although the mysterious intruder had literally disappeared in front of me - or should I say, from atop me - when Dan had awakened. 

Could a dream effect me in such a way? My whole body was quivering in the throes of orgasm, my pussy clenching in spasms around the heat of the intruder's hard penis. Could a dream leave semen oozing from my ecstatic hole?

No question, though, I was awake to try to answer Dan's concerned questions as to why I was sobbing. I could feel the trickles of the intruder's sperm at the same time. The only recourse that ended the confusion was to bury myself in my husband's arms.

The day after was strange. I was a mixture of emotions; happy, sad, longing, and even anxious. I felt dizzy, as if I were starting one of those rides at an amusement park that spins you around until you swoon.

Dan was darling. He raced around the house helping me unpack. Where he kept such reserves of energy I may never know. His work all week was long and tedious. Well, perhaps not tedious for him. He claimed the life of an attorney was not tedious, but I could see the lie in his eyes. Bless his heart; he was doing it all for me. It was these unspoken times when my love for him knew no boundaries. Could I ever imagine life as any less than what it was? I was so blessed!

I also felt ravished in a very satisfying way. My pussy felt comfortably numb and well-scratched. I felt naughty and saucy all over. I wore shorts and a loose white shirt. I was approaching forty so I avoided overly-skimpy clothes. Dan swore that I sported a very womanly figure, but I knew my hips had widened due to age and no longer looked like a teenager's. Dan claimed that me looking like a real woman excited him more than me looking like a teenage boy with slim hips, but I'm sure he was lying. Men ogled the magazines on the news racks where women with twenty-inch hips displayed their emaciated forms. Us women know what men want; there wouldn't be a whole industry built around women who look like teenage boys, otherwise. I may not have been able to help the way my bones shifted with age, but I kept the fat off. I still wore a size four and I knew most twenty-year olds couldn't claim that.

When Dan would stop to grab hold of my butt or hug me close, I wasn't surprised. However, I was a little self-conscious. Could he see that I was acting like I had just been fucked the previous night? Would he try to make up for our skipped nights by getting frisky tonight? I wasn't sure I could go through with it; I would be sore the next day and uncomfortable all day long. Being Saturday, I expected we might go out tonight. Maybe I would be able to keep him busy and plead off until the next night?

My dilemma caused me such concern that I checked myself while I was in the bathroom. I was definitely numb and used. I even wiped a small amount of goo that seeped out from the previous night's dream. I found myself frozen there in the bathroom, hunched over looking at my trimmed bush, trying to determine if last night had really been a dream. The question not only nagged at me, but burned me with curiosity and frustration. How could it have been? If I told Dan, would he laugh? Would he treat me like some half-wit? Would he look at me differently? Would he not love me any more? But if he loved me, wouldn't he understand? What if he had an answer?

For some reason, I didn't want to pull up my shorts. A tendril of nastiness snaked through my thoughts and I tentatively ran my fingers down over my hood, pressing the skin hard onto my clit. A small and delicious shiver spread upward and tickled my spine.

With a gasp of frustration and incredulity I pulled up my shorts just as Dan knocked on the bathroom door. "Everything okay, dear?"

I flushed red and my knees turned to water. "I'm... fine."

He looked relieved when I opened the door.

Did he have any answers? I flushed even redder at the thought that I might have to tell him to find out. Why did it feel so difficult, this decision? Why did it feel as if I was risking everything to tell him about a dream?

I laughed at myself in a nervous giggle.

"Am I missing something?" Dan's look narrowed and was concerned at the same time. 

He really did care. I touched his arm and made my decision. "I want to talk about last night."

We walked into the kitchen. He poured us iced teas while I sat at the tiny iron dinette and gathered my thoughts. No matter the time I had while he poured, the harder I tried to gather anything in my mind together, the farther they scattered. I found myself determined but even less sure. The feeling of being back at a precipice in our relationship returned.

I squeezed my hands into fists in frustration.

He placed the glass in front of me and sat.

I didn't know where to begin. I tried to imagine starting with what was forefront on my mind, but it felt as if I would sound lame and stupid. The more I grasped, the less I had. I felt tears begin to form at my indecision. Why did this have to be so hard? He was an attorney; if I didn't have everything perfectly laid out, wouldn't he disapprove?

"Why don't you start by telling me what made you cry last night?" His voice soothed my anxiety.

I looked up into his eyes. His concern and caring made me smile. He was using his courtroom voice on me, urging me to open up. He was on my side.

"I had a dream last night..." I toyed with my glass, not sure how to broach the content of the dream.

"Yes, you told me last night. An upsetting dream? Something very sad?"

"Well, not really sad. Not so much as upsetting. Confusing." I took a sip of the iced tea, not tasting it, but to cover my anxiety.

"Go on."

"I dreamt I was with another man..."

"Another man?" Suspicion narrowed his eyes.

Panicky, I clarified. "An intruder. No one we know. Someone came into our bedroom in my dream and took me."

"Raped you?" Concern colored his features again. He touched my hand.

His prompting gave me the way out I was looking for. "Yes, raped me."

He squeezed my hand and nodded.

"I thought it was you at first, and I was going along... But then I realized it wasn't you and tried to wake you."

"In your dream?"

"Yes."

"Go on."

Go on? Go on how? How could I tell him that I enjoyed it? "I thought you might get mad...."

"Mad? Honey, why would I be mad?"

"Like I said, I was going along with it until I realized it wasn't you, but by then it was too late." I lied. Or stretched the truth. I don't know which, but I couldn't tell him that I also enjoyed it when I knew it wasn't him. Even if it was a dream.

"Too late?"

"I came," I blurted out.

Rich laughter bubbled up from Dan's throat and he leaned back as he slapped his knee. He was laughing at me. I was right; he thought I was stupid. Tears welled up in my eyes and threatened to spill over.

He saw my tears and stopped. "Aw honey, don't cry. It was just a dream."

"But you're laughing at me--"

"No, no. I'm laughing because you think I'd be mad over a dream--"

"You're not mad at me?" Relief flooded through me and love spilled into its place.

"Of course not, silly. It was just a dream. I've had those dreams, too. They're nothing to fret over."

"You?" What was this? He's had them, too? "With who?"

"Diane from the office, but–"

"Diane!" Anger flared up within me. Getting raped was one thing, but Dan was having sex dreams with that office floozy? "What is it about her that is so sexy? Her black hair?"

"No, dear–"

"I can dye my hair if that's what you want." Bitterness replaced my anxiety and sadness.

"Linda–"

"I'm skinnier than her; do I need to put on some weight for you? Is that what you're into?" Bitterness turned to anger. The idea that he was having sex dreams turned my stomach.

The conversation did not end well.

I stormed to the attic to get as far away from him as I could; I figured that some work up there would help me sort out my thoughts and it needed to be done anyway. There was plenty of natural light from the several windows that dotted the attic area. Properly finished, this could be turned into some additional rooms. I didn't bother with the lights; it was bright enough as it was.

I attacked a storage box by imagining Dan's face on it. Why did he have to laugh at me? And why did he think it was funny when he had engaged in sex with Diane in his dreams? I found nothing funny about that. Diane might have been heavier, but she was at least ten years younger. So Dan liked young, did he? I was too old for him? Even if she was twenty-nine, she was close to being a teenager.

I looked at the open box in disgust. It was all storage; it might as well stay in the box. I shoved the box along the floor and up against the wall. I sat on one of the wooden chairs there and crossed my arms while looking at what needed to be done. The movers had made a clump of boxes and furniture up here in the middle of the floor. My couch was here and my old dinette set.

Dan was downstairs somewhere, probably reminiscing about his sex dreams with Diane. The thought drove me out of my chair. I tackled the task at hand to be doing something. Anything. Within a few moments, I had the boxes shoved to one side, and the furniture to the other. A light sheen of moisture covered me and my heart beat strongly within me. My hair seemed to trap the heat and a few wisps of it wandered into my eyes. I reached into my pocket and pulled out an elastic hair band. I pulled my hair back into a pony tail and secured it with the plastic balls on the band.

Standing there, hands on my hips, I surveyed the attic. I guess it was pointless for me to even bother; it was all storage. It could have stayed up here in a clump and no one would have been the wiser. It was then that I smelt the cologne from yesterday. I furrowed my brow and looked around for the source. The smell of leather and cinnamon was very strong. Had I opened a box with something fragrant in it? Or had something spilled on my couch? I moved over to the couch to see if there were any oil stains on the cover sheet.

No stains. Nothing I could see. I frowned at the couch and the smell brought to me memories of last night. The passion and excitement was still there. I was amazed that just remembering could make me wet again, but it did. Heat flooded me and a faint ache throbbed within me - a need to be filled. My frown disappeared and a small smile of wonderment replaced it.

I closed me eyes and imagined the night before. It had been wonderful. That Dan had been having dreams like this and not telling me was horrible. Why did he get to have them, dreaming about some young floozy, but not me? No, I got laughed at. He dreamt about real women. I only had dreams of imaginary people.

But oh, how enjoyable it had been!

I felt the touch, then. I started, but stopped and kept my eyes closed. Was that Dan? I inhaled deeply; the scent was not Dan. Was I dreaming again? Had I sat down on the couch and dozed while remembering the events of last night's dream? Dream or reality? And what was now? Another dream? Or something real?

Hands turned my shoulders in the gloom of the attic. I opened my eyes as I turned. It was the man from last night. His bold features and slicked-back hair brought a bubble of warmth and happiness to me. Butterflies tickled my stomach and the heat grew between my legs. Without thinking, I slipped my arms around his neck. Our faces came together without effort and his mouth descended on mine. A moan wafted through the attic as his tongue gently but forcefully pushed into my mouth. I realized the moan was mine.

I melted against him as my knees weakened and we kissed passionately. I clutched his head and tried to kiss him as hard as he was kissing me, but I was weakening into a swoon faster than I could fight. My world spun as the kiss broke. I was moaning and gasping for breath at the same time. I lost all balance as I clung to his strong frame. I felt myself being moved and I clung tighter.

He lowered me onto the couch as my vision swam. I squirmed on the couch as my fever grew and the heat between my legs began to burn. I wanted to look and see, but my eyes were closed tight. I was afraid if I opened them, my dream man would disappear. I heard shuffling, and then he was kneeling by me. I opened my eyes then. His erection was pointing at me, smooth and hard like last night. It was the most beautiful penis I had ever seen.

Without thinking, I reached out and gripped it. It felt perfect. It was velvet smooth and hot all at the same time. The ache within me beat to the pulsing of his erection. I thrust my hips against the ache and pulled his erection closer to my face. I closed my eyes and rubbed his smoothness all over my face. I wanted to bite it and kiss it at the same time. It felt so good. My mouth found it and I tried to get as much of it in while licking and nibbling at the same time.

I felt dizzy and lustful, but was this another dream? I could see him and feel him. I could taste him! How could it be a dream? How could it not?

I wanted him to feel as good as I felt. I sucked and licked at his beautiful erection until I heard him moan contentedly. The action and result melded into something uniquely mine. I made him moan. I made him feel good. It was something that would be as much mine as my own boobs or my memories that only I recalled. It was something I shared with this stranger but would carry away as something that belonged to me.

He pulled away from me. I whimpered with loss. It was mine; I wanted it back. He expertly unbuttoned my shirt's few buttons and unzipped my shorts. Within a moment, he had my shorts and shirt off. My boobs hung free. He ran a hand over my panties. I squirmed on the couch and moved my hips against his hand.

I had to be dreaming. I must have fallen asleep on the couch after exerting myself. If this was all a dream, why not enjoy it? If Dan was having sex dreams with young floozies, then why not enjoy a dream with a total stranger? This handsome man was not someone either Dan or I knew. He was a total dream fabrication. Wasn't he? What was the harm in a dream with a fantasy man? Certainly no harm at all. Not like dreaming about someone specific. It wasn't cheating then, right? Dreaming about sex with a total fantasy wasn't cheating, was it? Dan dreaming about Diane would be, though.

Or would it?

Yes, it would be. She was a real person. Even if it was just a dream, he was having sex with a real woman that wasn't me. Whereas I was fabricating a fantasy in a dream - someone who didn't exist in real life. How could that be cheating?

Of course, it wasn't. Dreaming of sex with a dream-man who wasn't real was about as "bad" as masturbating awake. It wasn't cheating.

I lifted my hips and slid off my panties. The smile that lit the handsome man's face melted my heart. He leaned over me and planted another soul-tearing kiss on me. My whole body cried out at the sweet pain of need and passion. When his fingers dipped into my wet folds, I felt jolts of lust arcing between the passion at my mouth and at my pussy. 

He stopped kissing me and shifted his head down to my hips. He kissed my stomach and I moaned in response. The ache in me was getting stronger. He kissed his way down to my pussy while my movements became stiffer. When he kissed my lips down there, I froze. His hot tongue worked like a wet velvet tool over my folds and clit. The blood pounded in my head and soft wails filled the attic. The pressure mounted in my ears as my eyes closed in pleasure. The ache pounded at me now, but the feelings were so good and so intense, that I could only clutch his head, wanting more.

Sweat broke out on my forehead and my hips gyrated against his tongue. His strong hands grasped my hips and the need in me cried out. Or was that my voice crying out? I was too dizzy to know. I could hear myself panting now, after realizing that I had been holding my breath. The world tilted and spun. He was turning me over.

I struggled to get up, but then realized he was positioning me for a doggie entry. I moved to position myself on the couch for just that as his hands helped me along the way. I placed me knees as far apart on the couch as they would go and arched my back to expose my very wet pussy to him.

He placed a hand on my butt that seemed to burn into my skin. I felt him move close and the head of his penis touch my wet folds. I pushed back, impatiently. I wanted him inside now! He teased my entrance. His hot cock felt good but it needed to be inside. I started to quiver with need. I needed to feel that beautiful shaft inside me, pushing and scratching the deep itch I felt.

"No, no, no, no... Inside, please..." I gasped. I kept pushing my hips back, but he only toyed at the entrance. "Unhhh... fuck me!"

The handsome man chuckled. His low mirthful sound made me even hotter. But all that was erased and forgotten as I felt that smooth erection begin to slide inside. The heat was incredible. I was so wet that he had no trouble pushing it in. I tried to hold my breath. I tried to enjoy each inch and remember the feel as it slid in. I tried to go slow. But I heard myself moaning in a desperate low growl as I pushed back hard on his penis. It felt so good. It began to touch that deep ache as it reached the end of its length. He pushed as it reached the root of his erection and held it there.

Oh gosh. Ohhhhh. I could feel it throbbing in there. It filled me and stretched me open in a very nasty and filling way. I never wanted to feel it leave. The tip of his erection was rubbing me perfectly, deep inside. I wanted to feel it all over, deep inside, forever. I pushed back against him and could feel his hard abdomen against my butt. I was spiraling out of control. Nothing I had ever known had ever felt so good.

When he started to pull back, I pushed back to keep him inside. But then he pushed forward and began sliding his erection in and out. It felt so good, so perfect, so hot. His manhood filled me and rubbed everything so right. I wanted to possess his cock and make it mine.

The only thought I had of Dan was that I wasn't thinking about him at all. This was my dream, my fantasy. This was something that belonged to me and was private for me and my dreams, alone. While I was dreaming, I was enjoying this, and it was none of Dan's business.

I placed my head down on the arm of the couch as the stranger pumped me with strong strokes. I usually liked sex gentle with a touch of passion, but this was rougher. It excited me in ways I hadn't imagined. What I did with Dan was make love. This was lustful fucking and it felt wonderful. His manly erection was strong and pumped hard from tip to root. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to be a fucking. It was hard, hot and so nasty.

The stranger moaned with me as his balls began to slap lightly at my clit. It felt too good to end. I never wanted it to end. Each slap elevated my passion and heat until I thought I would scream. My brow was furrowed and I was gasping, almost wild with lust.

"Ohhh... fuck me harder!" My movements were frantic. I pushed back to his strong thrust to feel the slap of his balls. It was wonderful. His movements became faster. I might have started drooling then. The lust took over. I mirrored his thrusts in counterpoint and the slapping grew louder. Electric jolts coursed through my body - up from my clit along my spine. Even my feet were twitching. I knew he was about to come. I wanted it all, deep inside.




Ghost Ch. 02



The stranger grunted and I could feel him quiver behind me. I ground my hips back against his erection as he buried it as far as he could push. I felt his very hot penis swell within me and jerk. Super hot sperm shot out of him and deep inside me. My pussy quivered and clenched as his passion threw me over the edge. I thought I was going to pass out. I grunted through clenched teeth as my own orgasm threatened to sweep me away. I struggled to hold on to the couch as his hot wetness flooded my pussy to mix with the juices I was squeezing out.

Just as I reached the point of bliss, he pulled out. My head wobbled as I struggled to see. I remained kneeling, my butt in the air, sperm and juices running down my legs.

"No, bring it back. More!"

I felt a change. Something in the air changed. An anxiety replaced the passion and lust. It started to effect my own feelings.

"No! I need more. It's mine! Don't take it away..."

I heard footsteps on the stairs coming to the attic. Dan was coming. I felt saddened at the loss of the dream. But I felt the change in the air wasn't due to Dan. Something changed with the stranger - almost as if someone else was present with the stranger and the stranger was upset.

The whole change and abrupt end to the wonderful sex frustrated me. I heaved myself up off the couch. Dan stood there looking at me from the door to the attic. I had been asleep, after all. But I was naked on the couch and had slept with my butt in the air.

I picked up my clothes and brushed past Dan.

"I fell asleep, but the attic is done." I didn't look at him. I was still angry that he had sex dreams with Diane. That I had experienced yet another dream with a fantasy man was not his business. It would have been if the man was real. But if he was going to laugh at my dreams then he didn't need any more ammunition to think I was silly. As to why I was naked, he could think whatever he wanted.

Maybe my fantasy would visit me again, later. Whatever the change in the air, I would always have my handsome dream-stranger. Yes, always. I felt sure I could call on him when I wanted.



Ghost Ch. 03



Dan ignored me the rest of the day. I can't tell you how fun it is to live in a house with someone who gives you the cold shoulder. I could have gone to the grocery store and received better treatment. So, I found him out and he was mad about it. You better believe I was going to let him stew in his juices.

Where did he get off thinking it was okay to have sex dreams with real people? I never did!

Obviously, he wasn't happy with me, or he'd be having dreams only about me. I would probably have to dye my hair black to compete with Diane's age. I was older but she was chunky. Is that a trade-off in men's eyes? Or was his attraction her youth? I gave as good as any teenager when it came to the sack. I was physically more attractive than Diane, so the only real issue should be hair color.

Maybe my boobs were shaped different? Hers might have been bigger than mine for being on a size six frame. The thought of getting implants had never appealed to me before, but they might be necessary now.

I resolved to get some hair dye the next store visit.

One thing was for sure, Dan was mine. Dan was my husband. He wasn't for sale, or loan, or subject to one of those "agreements." There was no "understanding."

So I returned his cold shoulder. It served him right. Let him mull how horrible he was for having those dreams. Never had I ever dreamt of someone we knew. The thought of him getting aroused at night as he screwed Diane angered me like I have never been angered. Did he cum? Did he wake up and savor the memory? Did he share looks with her at the office?

I'm not in the habit of grinding my teeth, but this seemed like a good time to acquire the vice.

On the other hand, at least my dreams were just erotic nothings. They involved no one I knew or he knew. Was the change I felt something serious? What if my dream-lover didn't like Dan being around?

The thought hadn't occurred to me before.

Could a dream be jealous? Or was this something more than a dream? As much as I have avoided thinking about it until now, was this house haunted? Could my dream-lover in fact be a ghost? Dan would surely laugh me right into the looney house and divorce court if I mentioned such silliness.

I had never encountered a ghost before. Weren't they supposed to be all chains and horror and scarey?

But if this was a ghost, was that different from a fantasy dream-lover? Wouldn't a ghost be someone real who had been alive? Wouldn't I be cheating, then? Or is it possible to cheat with someone dead who vanished whenever Dan was around?

I could feel the sperm oozing out of me. It was real.

Or was it yet all imagination and I was feeling my own juices? Psychosomatic? Power of suggestion? That's what Dan would say. Would it be cheating then if I thought it was a ghost, someone formerly alive, but it was my own body doing it? No, of course not, would it? I would only be duped, a fool to my own fantasies. To cheat, you have to cheat with someone real.

Like Dan and his sex dreams where he fucks Diane.

Whether my fantasy-lover was only a dream or even a ghost, the person is not real - at least, not anymore in case of the ghost.

But a ghost was a real person at one time, right? Is it possible to cheat with a ghost? No matter how I tried to view this from different emotional levels, I couldn't come up with an answer. If Dan thought ghosts were real, then it could be considered cheating. In which case, he could divorce me. I found it aggravating to think that a ghost could commit adultery with me and that I went along so willingly.

I settled the matter with a slightly red face.

"Dan. Do you believe in ghosts?" I planted my hands on hips. I stood ready to battle as I delivered the question. Battle against what, I have no clue. I'm not sure what I would have done if he said that he believed in them. That would make me an adulteress - something I was determined never to be.

"Pardon?" he said. He blinked several times.

"You heard me the first time." I wasn't going to put up with a diversion. I wanted an answer.

"Ghosts? No, of course not. It's silliness."

I nodded curtly and left the room with a huge sigh of relief. I wasn't an adulteress. I leaned on the windowsill in the hall and looked out the window. I drew in a deep, shuddering breath as the relief shook every bone in me. So. I wasn't an adulteress. That meant my dreams were fine, acceptable, and private. Since I couldn't be cheating with someone who doesn't exist, then Dan had no cause to hold me accountable for them.

A smile lit my face as I considered my private affair with my non-real fantasy. Dan would be home again tomorrow, but gone to work on Monday. The idea of another dream session warmed my insides a little. It would be fitting, too. Dan would be at the office ogling Diane and remembering the fuck dreams he had with her. I would be here getting something better.

Sunday passed so slow. I made small talk with Dan but no more than that. I wanted him to remember how badly he hurt me with his admission of sex dreams. He wanted to get intimate that evening, but I just gave him the look. Maybe in a few days I would let him. But tonight? If he wore me out, I might not be able to handle the next day with my dream-lover.

Monday made me nervous. I had anticipated and looked forward to today as a day of freedom and exploration, but the morning brought anxiety. Now why was that? I laid in bed until Dan left. I let him kiss my cheek and I murmured something neutral as he left. I knew he would be seeing Diane, and it bothered me.

Perhaps that's why I felt anxious. I had looked forward to this day with a lustful ache, but my lover was all fantasy. Dan's lover was going to be pushing her boobs in his face. Did they stare at each other when they passed? Go to lunch together and rub legs under the table? Did he press his erection into her from behind at the copier? Did they steal away into the supply room and kiss? Did she blow him in there? Did they strip down in a feverish frenzy and just fuck right there in the office? Is that why Dan came home too tired for sex? Because he had earlier squirted his load into black-haired Diane?

I fumed. But I still felt anxious for other reasons. I just couldn't tell what they were. But I'm sure if Dan had done those things with Diane, he would have told me.

That thought stopped me in my tracks.

No, he wouldn't have, would he? He might admit to dreams, but who would just come out and say, "hi honey, I'm home. I'm really tired, though, because I just got done ramming the office slut."

No one would, would they?

I would have to start going through his credit card records for strange purchases.

I was not going to be fooled.

I got out of bed after he left and continued my thoughts into the bathroom. My shower started and stopped in fits as I thought things through. I was rinsing my hair when the movement of the shower mist caught my attention. I had never really noticed shower mist before as being something worth seeing, but this time it aroused my curiosity. I got the very sharp feeling I was being watched.

I looked all around, and even poked my head out the shower door. The bathroom was empty.

Oh, was this my visit for the day from my dream lover? I smiled. So he wanted to get nasty in the shower?

I rubbed my hands up over my small boobs and circled the nipples. I thought I could hear breathing and I smiled wider. So he was here, after all. Heat built inside me and I reached down to stroke my folds. Then I caught him out of the corner of my eye. He was there suddenly beside me in the shower.

But it wasn't him.

This man wasn't as tall. His hair was a reddish brown instead of almost black. His eyes were blue instead of brown. He was a little more muscular than my dream-lover. I opened my mouth to say something or scream, I don't know which. The man gave me a smirking look and pushed me against the tile. He covered my mouth with his and forced his tongue inside. He pressed against me and I could feel his hardness against my thigh. Wow, he sure was excited.

A number of thoughts ran through my head. Was I cheating on my dream-lover? With another dream-lover? Had I dozed off and was I dreaming? Had I never gotten out of bed? Or was this a ghost that Dan didn't believe in? If it was a ghost, then what happened to my dark-haired lover?

He pushed his very hard erection between my thighs and humped his hips back and forth.

"Spread your legs!" His voice grated in the mist.

I didn't think much about it; I did it. If this was a ghost, then it would be the same as my other ghost lover. It wouldn't be cheating. Dan didn't believe in them, so there was no cause for divorce. He couldn't blame me for fucking someone he didn't believe existed. Could he? That would be ridiculous.

While I thought these things, the man worked his erection right up against my wet pussy. My breathing was ragged; I was trying to rationalize these things before anything happened, but before I knew it, his penis started pushing into me. The feelings were good, but not as good as the passion with the dark-haired ghost. This one just wanted to fuck.

Was I wrong for allowing this? Dan didn't believe in ghosts. So he couldn't blame me for fucking one, could he? If this was just a dream, then the whole thing isn't really happening, right?

He pushed his erection into me and I let out a sigh. It did feel good.

He squeezed my boobs painfully as he fucked his erection into me with force. Despite the pain, it did feel good and it was scratching my itch. His penis was not as beautiful as the other's. His was wider and not as long. It stretched me more and the rough thrusting hurt a little. I put my arms around the man's shoulders and let him drive his manhood into me. After a few minutes, my hips began bucking back against the man.

"Yeah, fuck me, you slut!"

I froze. No one had ever talked to me like that before. I stood there, legs open, while this man grunted against me. His prick rapidly speared me over and over. I found that the feelings won out over the shock, though. A dirty lust rose within me as he slammed his hips against mine.

I fucked him back. "You like fucking me?"

He growled in response. "Dirty slut. I'm going to fuck you whenever I want. I'm going to fuck you full of sperm. Filthy bitch."

I clutched him tighter. His words ignited a fire within me. "Fuck me harder! I want to feel your cock pound me. Harder!"

His thrusts became more forceful. It felt so very good. I wouldn't be able to walk straight for days. 

"That's right bitch. You belong to me, now." He grabbed my hips and fucked me deeper.

My head swam. This was fantastic. I was not only being taken by a man, but fucked like a cheap whore. I had never felt like such a woman before. I had never felt so dirty and enjoyed it. But this was going to be memorable.

"Ohhhh...." I gasped. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as an orgasm out of nowhere wrecked into me. I thought my nipples were going to explode. My head hit the tiles painfully and the man grunted with the exertion of pushing his erection into me as far as it would go. It felt so nasty and good that I started to cry. I had never felt like this before.

"Fucking bitch! Wait until your Dan gets home. I'm going to fuck you right in front of him!"

Panic filtered through my senses as I felt the man grunt and then shoot thick gobs of sperm up into me. I ground my hips against him, milking his cock. The worry and concern began growing. It warred with the pleasure and sensations I was feeling.

One moment he was there, the next he was gone. I sobbed in confusion. Not only did I feel I had just received the best fucking of my life, but I also felt lost and alone. What was going on?

Are dreams and fantasies supposed to be rough? Are they supposed to refer to your spouse by name? Well, if they were all in my head, then they could, couldn't they? These just had to be ghosts. Dan was wrong. Ghosts did exist. How else could this be explained?

Could this really be all in my mind?

The white globs I watched run down my leg told a different story. I fingered one of the globs. It felt like sperm and looked like sperm. And there was a lot of it. With a shaky hand, I brought it to my nose. It didn't smell like an infection. With a growing morbid fascination and a reminder of the fantastic fuck I had just received, I put my finger into my mouth.

It tasted like sperm.

Something faint tickled my ears. A chuckle?

I reached a hand down and smeared it all over my folds. I closed my eyes and remembered the feel.

I shook the whole day. I was afraid to do anything or go anywhere in the house. I didn't know what to do. The things that Dan laughed at and called silliness had me scared.

I served him dinner in my bathrobe. I hadn't dressed the whole day and I was naked underneath. Dan noticed but said nothing. That meant he was going to be busy tonight going over case history. Probably for a court appearance tomorrow.

Had he ogled Diane earlier? Somehow, his issues with Diane didn't seem so bad, now. I wanted to talk to him, express my doubts about his rejection of the idea about ghosts, but I couldn't. Right after dinner he pulled up his briefcase and laid out his paperwork as I cleared away the dishes.

I didn't want to be alone in the bedroom so I turned on the television in the adjoining living room. He could see me if he looked over his shoulder. I pulled up my feet and hugged my knees as I flipped through channels.

Should I talk to him tomorrow? Tell him everything? Including my suspicions about ghosts? No, I couldn't. Never. He didn't believe in them and if he didn't believe in them, he couldn't divorce me over them. He must never find out then, right? Maybe I could say that my dreams were bothering me. Maybe I could be wrong and maybe some doctor could give me some pills for all this. After all, wasn't there a pill for everything? Some quack in a lab coat had probably already classified what I was going through as one of the new "conditions" or "diseases."

But I knew different, didn't I? I knew this wasn't in my head. I would have to find some accommodation or agreement with the ghosts I knew existed but couldn't tell Dan about. He could never know because that would mean divorce. If he was so sure ghosts didn't exist, then who was I to argue with him? He was an attorney. I was just a housewife with horny ghosts. As long as he didn't believe in ghosts, then there was no adultery.

In fact, why say anything at all? If there was no adultery, then why risk turning it into adultery? If I could convince them to be nice, then would that be so bad? It had definitely been enjoyable. Especially with the dark-haired ghost. What had happened to him? This other ghost had come along after the attic incident and the dark-haired one had felt anxious? Or had I been the one that felt anxious? Had I been feeling what he felt? Where had he gone? Had this new one sent him away?

The new one had its own appeal, but too much of the rough sex, while good, would get old. Variety was good. Maybe I could convince the new one to–

My legs were grabbed and yanked from under me. There wasn't anyone there. I drew in air and looked over at my husband. He was leaning over his papers. A hand grabbed my chin and jerked my head back. The shorter ghost was there, between my legs.

"So you want variety, you little bitch?" His sneer was hungry and mean. With a savage yank, he tore my robe open to reveal my nakedness.

My eyes were large and I was panting in terror.

"Here's your variety, slut!"

Another ghost appeared beside him. This man was much larger and more muscular. He had dark hair that flowed to his shoulders in oiled strings. He wore a grinning sneer that told me he wasn't as gentle as the shorter ghost.

I whimpered. "Please!" My whisper was hoarse.

"Yes, bitch. Quit begging. We're going to fuck you right here."

The other one spoke for the first time. "Right in front of your husband." He stroked his cock; it was enormous.

I shook my head in a panic.

The shorter one shoved his finger into my hole. A numb pain shot up my legs and I gasped.

"The bitch is wet already." Shorter one grinned.

I looked back over at Dan. With crushing waves of relief, I saw him look over at me. He nodded and then said, "not tonight, dear. Catch me tomorrow, okay?"

I gasped as he turned away. He could see me laying there, robe open, legs spread, but not the two men standing over me.

I looked back as the larger ghost knelt between my legs. His penis was far too big to fit in me. There was just no way. I opened my mouth to protest as the shorter ghost moved up to my face on the couch. He jabbed his penis into my mouth as the larger one pressed the head of his huge penis against my hole.

I moaned in anticipation and dread. I don't think I moaned in lust.

Shorter ghost kept jabbing his penis into my mouth. I reflexively closed my lips around it and sucked. It kept him from choking me with it.

"That's right, bitch. Suck me! Your husband is just too busy."

Muscular ghost, while looking more violent, was taking his time smearing the head of his penis around my opening. He gripped it and squeezed out a large drop of pre-cum and then smeared it all over my folds. It was slick and I started to shake. He was really going to try fucking me with that monster.

I nervously shifted my legs wider. I didn't want this to hurt if I couldn't stop it.

"You filthy bitch! You love to fuck, don't you?" Shorter one grimaced down at me as I worked his penis in my mouth.

Larger one finally began applying pressure. It was too big. But he wasn't stopping. I desperately shifted my hips to ease the angle and the pain. He pulled back a little and swirled the head all over the entrance. When it brushed my clit, I jerked. It was a little sore, but it still felt good. Then he pushed again. With a sinking feeling, I knew he wasn't going to stop. As big as he was, he wasn't so big that he couldn't get it in there. It was just bigger than anything I had ever had by a few inches.

I resigned myself to taking it. I was going to be very sore in the morning. "Slowly, please!" My whisper was desperate.

Larger one grinned and kept pushing. The head was pushing in; I could feel it. With the feel of a pop, the head pushed past my entrance. I gasped and sighed with relief. I felt very stretched. If he went slow, it wouldn't be bad. I gritted my teeth as he started pushing again. Tears welled in my eyes at the pain. He pulled back and I gasped in relief. Then he pulled out.

I almost bit shorter one's erection in my mouth. As painful as it had been, the removal almost felt good. I clenched in response and felt myself squirming.

Larger one chuckled and squeezed more pre-cum out of his penis. He smeared it all over his shaft and then rammed it forward against my hole. I gasped and gagged on shorter one's cock as I struggle to raise my hips to meet larger one's thrust. His enormous erection slid into me without stopping. The tears burst out of my eyes as he slid everything into me. I was too stretched. It felt like something was going to tear. I raised my knees up a little and spread my legs out as far as they'd go. Larger one liked that and with a slow transition started pumping that thing in and out of me.

His thrusts were slow, but he worked it all the way in, and then almost all the way out. I felt like I was getting a telephone pole shoved up me. I bucked my hips to meet his to keep everything straight and as painless as possible.

Shorter one pulled his penis out of my mouth and I gasped. He slapped it all over my face with rude jerks. It made me want to bite it.

Larger one settled into a rhythm as he fucked me. In and out, over and over he slid that thing in and out of me. I felt dirty, used. I felt like a whore. Why had Dan dismissed me so easily a few minutes before? Why did he not believe in ghosts? But it was good that he didn't, otherwise he would be packing to leave and start a divorce. I had to come to some kind of accommodation. Some kind of schedule so that I didn't go crazy.




Ghost Ch. 03



Shorter one knew. "No deals, bitch! We're going to fuck you whenever we want."

I glared at him but he jabbed his penis back into my mouth.

Larger one increased his tempo just a little. He was grunting over me now as I jerked to his fucking thrusts. If I hadn't been sore to begin with, it might have actually felt good in parts. He was long, but not so long that he couldn't get it all the way in. I could feel his balls press against my butt when he was all the way in. It felt good. But he was thick enough to stretch me and it felt uncomfortable. It would hurt if this went on for too long.

Larger one sneered at me, as if he could read my thoughts. His thrusts suddenly sped up and became harder. The sensations were too much. I was paralyzed with pain and pleasure. It felt good, but I was going to regret this. He worked hard, slamming his hips into mine. I worked with him to make it as easy as possible. I could hear his balls slapping my butt. I could hear the slosh of juices as his penis worked my hole.

I gripped the couch cushions hard as pleasure built a painful wave within me. As shocking as it was to me, an orgasm began building and spreading. I couldn't believe it. Something was going to rip and break. There was no way I could get fucked this hard and survive an orgasm.

Shorter one removed his cock and then leaned down to kiss me. His teeth kept hitting my lips, bruising them as the larger ghost rammed me. A blinding pain tore at me and exploded from my middle. Radiating outwards in agony, my orgasm shredded nerves I didn't know were there.

Larger one grinned down at me as he slammed home one last time and buried his pulsing erection in me. His balls jerked and squeezed. I pulled on his muscular butt to get him as deep in me as he could get. His whole cock swelled and convulsed in me. With a strange relief and triumph, I felt the first of his ejaculations. Squirt after squirt left his cock and plastered my clutching vagina. With a yank, he pulled all the way out.

It was a shock. If he was going to squirt, I wanted it in me. He pulled his cock up as long ropes of sperm shot out of the end and onto my stomach and breasts. I had never seen so much sperm. With another forceful move, he thrust the still squirting erection back into me.

Lust gripped me and I pulled on him again as he continued to squirt sperm deep into me. I was barely aware when shorter one began cumming in my mouth. I tried to swallow, but he yanked his erection out and squirted some on my neck and face.

I felt used and cheap, but also turned on. While it might have been arousing, if anyone ever came on me like that again, I would kill them.

With a chuckle, larger one pulled out. Sperm dripped from the end of his cock in a long rope. He gripped his erection and jerked it down. The sperm shook off and landed on me. He might as well have peed on me, I felt so degraded.

"We'll be back, bitch. You belong to us, now. Maybe next time I'll bring more friends." Shorter ghost sneered at me, but was suddenly gone.

I lay there, covered with sperm, sobbing.

I was taken again, and again. Over the next week, I was taken at least once a day. I had a hard time getting out of bed. But they would come if I didn't, and then I would have to clean the sheets of all the sperm. What had happened to my tall, dark-haired ghost?

Dan began to look at me with suspicion as I told him I was too tired. In reality, I was too sore. I was bruised, even. I had bite marks on my back that I kept hidden from him. A few of them even bled.

The worst was an all-day event that involved three ghosts. I knew I couldn't go on.

***

My wife had been retreating from me since we had talked about her dream. She wouldn't talk now at all and I was plenty concerned.

I even spoke to a colleague about getting her to a good psychologist. I claimed the stress of the move had become too much for her. She wouldn't talk, seemed withdrawn into herself, and looked at me with bitterness. She had mumbled something about my admitting to having dreams, but she seemed to take it a little too far. My love for her demanded action.

Appointment card in hand, I drove home Friday evening. All week had been hell. She was going to hear me out and see this doctor. Some good medication would probably help. She was a beautiful woman and it pained me to see her fall apart so quickly. It had to be stress.

Entering our home, I called out to her. I received no answer.

She had been lax with the cleaning of late; the house had a smell to it that spoke of stale air and sex. I knew she wasn't having sex because I keep an eye on her with a private detective. Perks of the trade. He assured me that she saw no one and that no one came to the house, either.

I strode through the house and felt anxious. I rarely felt anxious. "Linda!"

I found her in the bathroom. The red was too red, and there was too much of it. Her body looked bruised in its paleness. But I saw her chest rise once and fall. Not too late, then. Tears threatened to overwhelm me, but not before I did what I had to do.

Cell phone already in hand, I flicked it open and hit 911.

I prayed that they would not be too late. 



Ghost Driver



Don't take this one too seriously. It's just a fun Halloween story. It's a long one so you might want to wait for just the right dark and stormy evening in front of the fireplace with a good beer to read it. Thanks as usual to Barney-R for his editing Wizardry that was done at the speed of light. Happy Halloween SS06

* * * * * * 

Callie: two months ago.

Today was awful! It was my first day at the community college aka Loser University. Why do I call it Loser U? I mean since I go there doesn't that make me a loser by extension? Yep it does. 

The school is attended by all of the people who a) didn't have the grades to get into a real school. And b) didn't have the money to get into a real school, c) didn't have the desire to get into a real school or d) were too lazy to get into a real school. 

I really hoped that it would be different. I really hoped that I'd finally have a chance to make some real friends. I mean come on ... All the smart kids, the athletically inclined kids and the popular kids went off to Michigan or Michigan State. Some of them even left the state. I think one guy got in Harvard or some shit. So, all that's left are the losers. 

Who would have thought that there are degrees of losers? Apparently, I'm even more of a loser than normal. Even the fat girls look down on me. So here I am again, alone in my room. 

As usual, I'm the butt of most of the jokes and the subject of a lot of the bullying. It's funny how the worm turns. Most of the kids picking on me were the ones who were being picked on themselves not too long ago. 

But they'd better recognize. This is the twenty-first century. Kids have been known to snap and go Columbine on their tormentors. So far, there haven't been any girls doing it, but I might be the first. Maybe I'm scared shitless of guns, but I can find a way. 

That was my state of mind the day that this all started. I read a lot. I'll read anything. I also do a lot of research into subjects that are a bit outside of the mainstream. 

So one evening, I was at home on the Internet as usual. I was eating cheese popcorn and listening to Evanescence, while I surfed the net. I don't hang out in chat rooms or anything like that. Shit, no one wants to chat with me. I think even the predators out there that are looking for young girls like me, think I'm too big of a loser to bother with. 

Somehow, I got into a thread about witchcraft. Normally, that isn't my thing either. I'm more into fantasy than anything else. Game of thrones, Dungeons and Dragons, Legend of the Seeker, those are things that are in my wheelhouse. 

As I wandered from page to page, an idea popped into my head. If I was a witch, it would open up a lot of possibilities to me. I could hang out with other witches. Or I could cast a spell on someone to get myself a friend, maybe even a boyfriend. 

So I started trying to cast some of the simpler spells and enchantments. At first, what I was able to do was actually kind of stupid. I mean I spent three weeks gathering all the ingredients for a spell that made white smoke look yellow. 

Then I spent a month on a spell that would give me increased spiritual powers. I had no idea, whether it worked or not. It's not something that can be quantified as easily as how high you can jump or how much weight you can lift. 

I had to admit though there were some benefits to my dabbling. I was reading comments on the websites from other would be witches who seemed to be unable to even do the things I was able to do. 

So encouraged by my meager successes, I pressed onwards trying more and more difficult spells and conjurings. I also found websites that sold ever more esoteric ingredients and compounds. The loneliness finally drove me to try something that even I doubted. I decided to summon a demon. 

To tell you the truth, I didn't actually believe that I could do it. But on the off chance that something worked, I picked the smallest most minor demon I could find. It actually looked kind of cute in an ugly sort of way. 

In all of the pictures I saw, it looked ... Well it looked kind of pathetic. I mean in the pictures ... For a demon, it looked like someone I could push around. Even his name was pathetic. Pythius? It sounded like something you go into a bathroom to do. I could just hear people saying ... Hey, gimme a minute. I gotta go take a Pythius. So hoping for a friend or a demonic servant, I started gathering ingredients and relics. My parents had no idea what I was doing. They were glad to give me the money I needed to buy stuff. They were simply overjoyed that I had found a hobby to occupy my time. 

* * * * * *

Terry Slade

I watched as a group of people came together in front of a large department store. Without speaking to each other, they began marching back and forth in front of the store. It made no sense. At first, I thought that they were protesting something the store was doing or maybe those they were disgruntled employees who were picketing. But as I listened to them, it made less and less sense. They were all screaming for something different. Some were screaming, "Free Stuff." Others wanted the store to close down. And there were a couple who were screaming for the release of Jack Kervorkian.

One very thin woman was marching around holding I sign that read, "I want Kim Kardashian's Ass." 

The whole demonstration, if you could call it that, made no sense, it was chaos. 

Suddenly, it did make sense. It was what I was here for. As if on cue, some of the marchers began picking up rocks from the parking lot and other solid objects from the stores large trash containers. They began using the items to pelt shoppers going into and out of the store. Others used similar items to break the windows and the large glass doors on the front of the stores. 

I heard sirens in the distance. They got closer and louder with every second, but they were going to be too late. The chaos was increasing in intensity. 

A few yards away from me a teenaged girl slammed a shovel against the head of a middle-aged man. He went down immediately, and she pounded his prone form unmercifully while screaming. 

"It's a small world after all," she sang while continuing to pound the man's lifeless form. 

Directly across from her, a woman who had to be seventy years old gunned the engine of her car and ran into a woman riding one of those motorized mobility scooters. 

"Fucking Bitch," she screamed. "That's what you get. 12 items or less means 12 items or less!" 

The impact knocked the scooter onto its side and back several yards. The woman riding the scooter was thrown off of it and landed heavily, several yards further back with a horrible snapping sound. She screamed as the crazed old woman reversed her car and then headed for her again.

Several fires broke out in trash containers around the store. Four large men were trying to lift a flaming barrel and throw it into the store. 

A couple of burly guys looked towards me sitting nonchalantly on the hood of my Mustang. They looked at each other, and something made them decide to go after easier prey. 

Could I have done something to stop the chaos? Maybe, but that wasn't my goal here. Could I have saved a few lives? Probably, but again I was drawn here by the chaos. My job was not to stop the Chaos, but to capture and return the source of the chaos. 

Across the large parking lot, on the fringes of the mayhem, I noticed an odd seeming couple that like me were unaffected by the Chaos around them. A chunky but pretty young woman seemed very nervous. Her eyes were as big as saucers, and she looked extremely out of place. 

Beside her, clutching her arm as if for dear life stood another person who looked extremely out of place. But in his case, appearances were deceiving. He wore an expensive looking suit. And he had a smile as big as all outdoors. He reminded me of a political candidate in terms of his dress and persona. But his actions seemed more like those of a game-show host. 

He reveled in the chaos and actually seemed to be directing it. As I watched he yelled for a trio of women to attack a group of children coming out of the store. One of the women grabbed a fire axe off of the wall of the lobby and set off in hot pursuit of the kids.

The sound of sirens and the arrival of several heavy vehicles broke up the mayhem. Swat team members armed with bull horns urged the crowd to disperse, while others used water hoses to forcefully disengage perpetrators. 

The officers, most of them either in riot gear or in regular police uniforms, spread throughout the crowd, doing whatever they could to stop the chaos. Most of the perpetrators had begun to disappear with the arrival of the police but a few who were too crazed to stop continued. 

I noticed her then. Truthfully it was hard not to see her. Her tall well shaped form, crowned with a head of very long, very light blond hair. The hair was restrained and pulled back into a very no-nonsense bun at the nape of her neck. Several errant locks had escaped capture and dangled over her shoulder. 

While most of the officers accompanying her sought to stop the crimes that were in progress, she looked for the source of the problem. She wore a white blouse with a plain blue blazer over it, and jeans that looked like they were painted onto her amazing ass and legs. 

The look on her face was one of total intensity. As she scanned the crowd, her eyes almost immediately locked onto the couple I had picked out as being interesting. 

Unfortunately, those same eyes locked onto me. If more people were left between us, I could have ducked between them and avoided her. If it had been dark, I could have eluded her even easier. 

But it was too late to run and trying to elude her would have only piqued her interest in me. As she approached, I leaned back further on the car. I was struck by exactly how pretty she was. 

"Who are you?" she asked. 

"Hello Detective," I said. She looked at my face very closely and then shook her head. She ran a hand over the surface of my car's fender. 

"Don't touch the car," I said. 

"I asked you who you were," she spat. 

"What am I being accused of?" I asked. 

"I haven't accused you of anything, although I am wondering about your presence in my crime scene," she said. 

"Please ... Go into the store. They have several video cameras aimed at the parking lot. In all of the video footage, you'll see me calmly sitting here waiting for you and your fellow officers to come and do something about this riot, so I could do my shopping," I said. 

"I'm sure I also won't find you trying to help anyone either will I?" she asked.

"Nope, you won't," I said. "That's your job, not mine." 

"What exactly is your job?" she asked. 

"I work," I said. 

"You aren't being very cooperative Mister ...?" she said leaving an opening that she expected me to fill. I didn't fall for it. 

"You remind me of someone," she said. "There are just too many similarities. Your face ... From a distance ... I thought you were ... Even the car..." She shook her head. But up close I can see that you're not him. And the car isn't even the same color. There are millions of Mustangs out there..." 

Her voice trailed off, and I got the impression that she was gone ... At least mentally. But I was gone too. I saw what I'm sure she saw. Only we saw the same thing at a different time and from a different point of view. 

I saw a huge, ugly ass Dodge Ram truck slamming into the side of my car. I saw the truck hit my rear quarter panel the way the cops do to force a fleeing suspect into a spin. I saw my car spinning as I neared a sheer cliff on the side of the road. I saw myself fighting the spin and preventing the car from going over the cliff by the narrowest of margins. 

Then I saw the truck coming after me again. I was perched there on the edge of the cliff still marveling that I hadn't gone over. The truck slammed into me again, and I was spinning again only this time the spin was vertical not horizontal as my car went over the cliff and flipped over and over before finally hitting the ground. As the car impacted, I died instantly. The car didn't burn immediately. The fuel tank didn't explode the car was too well-made for that. 

It took a while, but the still-hot engine did eventually ignite the fumes that my very specialized fuel delivery system was producing. And then the car burned. The fiberglass body panels burned. The rubber gaskets and sealants burned. The metal parts and panels warped under the extreme heat. The expensive leather of my custom interior, burned, and the body in the driver's seat burned to a crisp. 

I guess that was where Detective Grayson's viewpoint started. She arrived on the scene with my car still smoldering. I can't remember her arrival, but I'm sure that her cobalt blue eyes were just as intense. And she probably whipped the small notebook she always carried out of her pocket. She always used a notebook, never a tablet, or a phone. She liked old school. 

We both snapped out of the memory at the same time. She found her tongue faster than I did. 

"You're not Terry Slade," she said. "I'm sorry ... You just remind me of a failure. Maybe you should shop somewhere else today. I don't think this store is going to be open for much longer." 

"Good advice, Detective," I said. As she turned to walk away I was struck again at how amazing her ass was. It took my breath away. That made me wonder whether, or not I actually needed to breathe anymore. I did know that Detective Grayson was doing more than I ever gave her credit for. She still apparently had my case on her mind. That was much more than I could say for some people. 

* * * * * *

Darleen

"Be there by nine o'clock, and I don't want to hear about any shit!" He screamed. 

"But I can't leave my baby," I said. I tried to keep my voice even because Michael could be violent. 

"Get your mom to watch her," he spat. "Or just give her something to put her to sleep. I don't give a fuck what you do. It's not my problem. It's not like it's my kid. I told you to take care of it when you first figured out that you were pregnant. Now deal with it. Just have your ass at that club tonight!" 

He stormed out slamming every door he ran into. I heard the door slam on his car, and then he drove away. 

"I'll watch Terri," said my mom. She looked at me with a mixture of disgust and pity. 

"Darleen, you should ..." she paused and sighed. "There are so many things that you should do or should not have done ... The list is too long even to start. None of this is what I wanted for you. If your father was still alive ..."

"Mom it's really not that bad," I lied. 

"How is not?" she spat. "He stops by whenever he feels like it, just to fuck you. Now he's making you take your clothes off in that club for a bunch of drug addicts and criminals. The next thing you know, he'll have you working there as a whore." 

"I would never do that," I said. "Never!" 

"A few months ago, you said the same thing about stripping," she reminded me.

"I'm only going to do this once," I said. 

"Who cares," she said. "After the first time, everyone will have already seen everything you have to show. It won't matter anymore." 

"Maybe I should take Terri and go away for a little while. You know... Just until you settle this," she said. "He won't care. He doesn't like her anyway. She isn't his, so she doesn't matter." 

"Mom that sounds like a good idea," I said. "Let me think it over." I knew that I could never do it. Taking my baby away from me for any length of time would kill me. Terri was my only link to the life I should have had.

"So tell me, Darleen," she said softly. "Is your life as exciting as you wanted?"

A big tear that I couldn't control, rolled down my cheek. 

"Terry would never have ..." she began. 

"TERRY is DEAD," I screamed. "I know I fucked up, mother. I should never have started any of this. I should never have cheated on him. My whole God Damned life would be so much better. There I've said it for the thousandth God Damned time. It's old news mother. Let it go!" 

She turned without a word and left the room. I fell onto my bed, crying my eyes out. I hated yelling at my mother. I hated arguing with her. I especially hated it when she was right. 

Terry Slade had been the love of my life. I say had been because I killed him. Terry and I had gotten married right out of high school. We were so in love that we just couldn't wait. 

Terry was working his way through college. He went to class most of the day, and worked his ass off at night in an assembly plant. The small amounts of time that he had to himself were spent with me. 

Terri loved me like there was no tomorrow. He told me every day how much he loved me. Every spare penny he had was spent on me. The problem was that I was very young and Terry had spoiled me. I saw him busting his ass trying to make a life for us. But it just wasn't happening fast enough and to be truthful; it just wasn't enough.

I saw some of my friends. They went out every night. They were going to clubs and parties all the time. I began to resent not being able to go too. 

Terry and I had a friend named Michael, who had always liked me, or so I thought at the time. Anyway, Michael started coming around while Terry was at work or at school. Michael always seemed to have lots of money. He was also willing to spend it on me.

I began to go out with Michael, thinking that Terry would never find out. And if he did, I was only going out with a mutual friend for something to end my boredom and loneliness. 

I have no idea why I started having sex with Michael. Perhaps it was all of his honeyed words, while I was drunk. Maybe it was the fact that he took me to a lot of places that I hadn't gone with Terry. Maybe it was the fact that I loved the way people looked at me when I was out with him. I loved being the center of attention. 

But as they say bad luck happens in threes. Michael and the way he treated me was pure bad luck. I got used to it. I got careless. And I got caught. 

One of the workers in Terry's plant got his hand caught in a press. They shut the place down for the night for a safety inspection. Terry rushed home to be with his loving wife. He found me loving Michael. 

It took seeing the look of pain on Terry's face as Michael fucked me to bring me out of the daze I was in. 

Terry crossed the floor and grabbed Michael by his neck. He punched Michael savagely in the face without mercy and then slammed his head through the thick glass of our bedroom window. There were cuts and bruises all over Michael's face. 

Terry took a very long look at me and then dropped Michael like a broken toy. Michael curled up on the floor on the fetal position as Terry calmly walked across the floor to his closet. He loaded up all of his clothes. He didn't have much in the way of a wardrobe. 

He didn't bother with bags or even suitcases. He just grabbed all of his clothes in his arms. "She's all yours Mike," he said stepping over his former friend. 

"Wait," moaned Mike. "I never wanted her, man. She's always been yours. I just wanted to ..." Perhaps that was a mistake on Mike's part; he should have kept his mouth shut. He never got to finish his sentence. Terry kicked him in the face, still wearing his steel-toed work boots. Mike was out cold. 

And Terry was nearly out of the room. 

"Terry, I'm sorry," I screamed. "It was a mistake." 

The sound of my voice caused him to stop and face me. His intention had been just to walk out on me without telling me where he was going or when he would be back. 

"It wasn't a mistake," he said. "Darleen, for as long as I can remember, I've been in love with you. All I ever wanted was to live the rest of my life with you. That was the mistake. What you did was just you being gutless. You didn't have the stomach to stick with me through the tough times. Jeezus, Darleen I graduate in six months. I've already been offered a position as an engineer at the Ford plant. We would have had everything we always wanted." 




Ghost Driver



"I still want that, Terry," I whined. "I just lost sight of it for a minute. You don't know what it's like sitting here day after day, night after night with nothing to do. And then Michael came along, and he had so much money and..." 

"You could have tried getting a job to help out," he said. "Or you could have gotten a dog. Do you think it's easy going to school all day and then heading off to work until midnight and then coming home to try to study and do my homework? Does that sound like fun, Darleen?"

"I guess not," I said. 

"Do you know why Michael always has money? Darleen you can't be that stupid. You know Mike sells drugs. And you can't be dumb enough ... Well maybe you are. You know Mike has always been jealous of us. He was jealous of me because everybody in the old neighborhood is always talking about how great it is for me to go to college. And he was jealous of us because you and I have always had each other Darleen. We didn't have much, but we had love." 

"We still do, Terry," I whined. 

"No, Darleen," he spat. "You're Mike's now. Good luck with that. Didn't you hear what he was trying to say? He didn't want you. He just wanted to try you on like a pair of those expensive shoes he wears and then throws away. I hope you fit HIM better than his shoes, Darleen. You don't fit me anymore." 

"Terry, you can't just walk out on me," I screamed. "We're married." 

He just glared at me as he picked up a few pieces of clothing that he'd dropped. "My next check will go to get a lawyer. You can have this place. I'll find somewhere to stay, when the papers are delivered, just sign them, Darleen. It should be pretty easy. We've been married for less than a year, and we don't have shit. We even rent this place." 

And then he was gone. I knew at that moment that I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I had thrown away everything I had always wanted and for nothing. It was all so clear. Michael had never in his life had a steady girlfriend. He usually had several women that he was fucking. And he used and swapped them out regularly. 

Mike had only wanted me to prove that Terry didn't have anything on him. He wanted everyone to know that he could take something from Terry. That was why he bought me clothes and took me to places. Terry only had one thing that mattered to him ... ME ... and Mike wanted to show everyone that he could take me from Terry. 

Over the next few days, things got even crazier. Mike was in the hospital for a long time. He had several operations, but they were never able to put his face back the way it was. They did the best they could but his nose didn't look the same, and he would always have scars. 

He also kept changing his mind about me. One day, he refused to see me and the next he acted like I was his one true love. But the changes in him went deeper than his looks. 

Mike had always been your friendly neighborhood-type drug dealer. If you owed him money, he cut you off until you paid. But he changed. He hired a body guard and then two, who followed him everywhere. People who owed him money started disappearing. There were rumors that one or two of them had been found dead. 

I made sure that I was home most of the day. I wanted to be there if Terry showed up for any reason. But he never did. I got tired of waiting for him to come home so I started showing up at his school. The first time I did it, I almost caught him. But he got into his class and closed the door behind him as he entered. 

He was in a large lecture hall, and he vanished after the class ended. There were multiple doors, and he left through another one. After that I was never able to get into the engineering building. Terry reported me to security as harassing him. 

I gave up. I realized that I was the one who screwed up. I had to wait for Terry to be ready to come back to me. 

But while I waited, my life went to hell. My mother told me every time I ran into her, how stupid I had been. She told me that I had given up a man who loved me and had a future for one who didn't care about anyone at all and had no future. Everyone knew that drug dealers didn't live very long. The lucky ones went to jail. The rest went to hell. 

At the same time, Mike was constantly asking me if I'd seen Terry. All at once, everything started to fall apart. I lost the house because without a job, I had no way to pay the rent. With no other choice, I had to move back in with my mother. On the first night that I was there, I discovered that my mom was playing her own games. 

I found a familiar pair of running shoes under my bed. I immediately freaked out and confronted my mother. 

"Of course, course I let him stay here," she hissed. "He's like the son I never had. And he was hurt pretty badly by what you did. But as soon as I told him that you needed to move back, he left. I have no idea where he's staying, so don't bother asking me." 

My own mother hid my husband from me. Before I could tell her how angry, I was at her, the doorbell rang. I yanked the door open, expecting to find a Girl Scout selling cookies or a Jehovah's Witness. 

I was ready to tell the scout where she could shove her fucking cookies or give The Jehovah's a performance they wouldn't want to witness. But standing in front of me was neither. 

If Barbie was real, she'd look just like her. She was dressed the way I wanted to dress when I grow up. Her long pretty blond hair looked as if she had her own personal stylist who followed her around redoing her hair every time a strand got out of place. 

She stood there perched on heels that most women would need a ladder to get into and then would be unable to walk in. She looked me over starting at my face and was bored before she got to my knees. She cracked her gum several times and asked me who I was. 

"I'm Darleen Slade," I said. "Do you need to see my ID?" 

"That would be perfect," she said. I showed her my license, and she handed me a stack of papers. She turned effortlessly on those towering shoes and left without another word. I almost expected her to get into a life-sized replica of Barbie's dream car. 

I looked into the papers before she got to whatever car she was driving and nearly collapsed. I'd been expecting to get papers from the guy we'd rented our house from. In order to legally evict me, he had to serve papers on me and then give me thirty days to vacate the house. 

My heart almost stopped as I realized that they were divorce papers. Tears filled my eyes. My heart nearly stopped. An image of my wedding flashed in my mind. I remembered him swearing to stay by my side until death do us part. 

My mom tried to comfort me. She was sure that we would never complete the divorce process. "He loves you, Dar," she said. 

The next morning things got even worse. You see the next morning I discovered I was pregnant. 

* * * * * *

Callie

"Did you see that detective?" he asked me. "I want her." 

"Why," I asked. I was becoming annoyed. Having my own demon wasn't much different from the rest of my life. It was worse than having a puppy. In the first place, I somehow screwed up; Pythius was, as expected, a very small, and a very weak demon. He was lizard-like and not very forceful. 

The problem was that somehow my spell allowed Agravon, another demon to piggy back onto the summoning and come to our plane with him. Agravon quickly got away from me. He ran out into the streets and killed the first man he came across. He then took over the man's body. In order to disguise the crime, I had to help him dispose of his own demonic body. 

From then things were spiraling out of control. It's gotten to the point where I'm no longer sure who controls whom. At first, things were good. Even though I knew that he'd murdered a man to get the body he was in, the thrill of having not only a boyfriend of my own, but an attractive one was too good to pass on. 

When he wanted to explore his new body's urges and cravings, I was on board with it. First, we sought out his weaknesses and limits. He had me cut him. It caused him a lot of pain and except for the blood being green; he was no different from a normal person. The cut didn't heal on its own because it was too big, so we had to stitch it. 

He was also no stronger than any other human of his size and age. He could lift about a hundred pounds, but not much more. He also couldn't run very far or very fast. We determined that in terms of durability or vulnerability and in other physical aspects, he was a normal human being. It was probably due to the fact that he was wearing a normal human body. 

He enjoyed food and tended to over eat. He also enjoyed liquor of all kinds and got drunk almost every night. When we got to sex, I was apprehensive. It somehow seemed wrong to give my virginity to a creature that wasn't really alive or human. 

The problem was solved in typical Agravon fashion. We went out and found a woman for him to have sex with. He took her in every orifice multiple times and then killed her. 

The biggest problem wasn't the murders. It was his growing needs. We saw a car. It was one of those Italian exotics. I think it was a Feramborghini Carrerra or something like that. Anyway, he went up to the guy who owned the car and told him that he wanted it. 

I think he expected to have some kind of power over the guy. The guy was bigger and stronger than Agravon, and he beat Agravon's ass. He left him beaten and bloody there in the street. The funny thing about it was that although it was painful for Agravon, he was actually stronger after it. He had also seemingly grown taller and slightly thicker. 

It took us a few days to discover the reason. But once we did he was off and running. Agravon fed off of chaos and violence. He started arranging and facilitating more and more violent and chaotic events. He enjoyed sitting there on the fringes of those events and absorbing the energy he got from them. 

As he grew stronger, he began attracting others to him and some of them, like him wasn't exactly human. They were all very good at playing human, but there was something just not right about them. 

I think they all knew that I was the reason he was here. And I think that he knew that if anything were to happen to me, his presence in this plane would end. 

The riot at the store was only the beginning of his plans. Agravon wanted to take over. He wanted the world. He was starting small, but his power increased daily. I began trying to imagine the horror that a world ruled by Agravon could bring. 

As his power increased, so too would his minions. He studied the power levels of other demons. As his power increased he intended to summon others, who were weaker than he to this plane. That, I now see, was the main reason for keeping me around. It would be my job to bring them over. I wondered what would befall me when he was strong enough to do it himself. 

As we prepared for another of Agravon's endless incidents, I was afraid. Just after dark, a woman appeared. She was very pale and in her fifties. As she approached me, my fear grew. 

"You needn't fear me sorceress," she said. "Your place in history is assured. I am not stupid enough to arouse the wrath of our host. I am here to enjoy the evening and what comes next, not to end it." 

I only understood about half of what she said. I got the part about not being afraid. But after seeing her in action later, my fears only increased. 

* * * * * *

Terry

After leaving the parking lot and Detective Grayson, I had lost sight of the couple I was trailing. There was something off about them. They appeared to be human. I was supposedly trailing two minor demons. One of them was a chaos demon and could be expected to do the kinds of things the couple had done back at the store. But neither of the demons I sought was human or had a human form. 

There was also the matter of discovering exactly how they had managed to escape to this plane of existence. They really weren't big on escapes from down there. I guess I couldn't blame them. If the word went out that someone had managed to escape, everyone would try it. 

I had a few hours before dark. Looking for the pair in the daytime was a waste of my time. I got into my car and drove to a place that I wasn't supposed to go. I was supposed to stay away from places and people connected to my former life. For the most part, I had. But lately I'd been allowing myself one indulgence. 

I drove to the park and hoped. I parked close enough to the playground to watch the kids there, but far enough away that no one there could really make out who I was. 

I wasn't interested in the screaming seven and eight year olds. I watched the smaller section where the moms watched and played with one and two year olds. There was far more parental involvement there. I watched for hours before she showed up. I could spot Kathy from a mile away. 

She looked like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. But in reality, all she did was push a stroller. She moved to the same spot she always sat in. The bench there was low enough that she could reach Terri in an instant. She put a blanket down although the grass there was really soft. 

Then she put her wiggling granddaughter down on the blanket with a favorite toy. 

"You should go over there and see her up close," said a voice just over my shoulder. 

I started to turn but I already knew who it was. "No sudden moves," she hissed. 

"Detective, you don't seem like the kind of woman to gun a man down in cold blood. You also don't seem like the kind of woman to shoot someone in the back," I said. "I like to look people in the eye when I talk to them that's all. I'm just turning around so I can see you." 

"Why are you here?" she asked. "And don't try telling me you're shopping this time." 

"Detective did you follow me?" I smiled. Her face turned red for a second making her look even more beautiful. 

"I wanted to see if you were lying to me," she said. 

"Maybe I just put my shopping off for another day," I said. 

"The old woman over there," she said gesturing at Kathy. "She seems a bit old for you." 

"She's not that old," I said. "She seems to be in her forties. She's still pretty. She has a nice body too. And maybe I just like older women. Is that a crime?" 

"Maybe it's not the old woman you're interested in," she began. 

"Detective, I assure you that I am not a child molester or a pervert," I said. 

"I never said you were," she sputtered. Her face turned that same shade of red. 

"You ... Waited out here for hours," she said. "You just sat there on the hood of your car until they showed up. The second she put that little girl down on that blanket your face lit up like a kid at Christmas time."

"Well ... She's a cute kid," I said. 

"My BIBSD is going off," she smirked. "That's my ..." 

"Built in Bullshit Detector," I finished for her. "Detective, I'm not lying to you. She really is a cute kid." 

"I know you're not lying," she sputtered. "But you're not telling me shit. There are too many coincidences between you and my case and ..." 

"Detective, I assure you; I had nothing to do with the riot at the shopping cen ..." I began.

"That's not my case!" she spat. "It's just something they assigned me to look into. I'm trying to solve a murder." 

"What murder," I asked. "Are you accusing me of killing someone?" 

"No Dammit," she sputtered! "I'm not accusing you of anything. I actually get the feeling that you, and I are after the same thing." 

"Detective, I am not the least bit interested in seeing a murderer go to jail," I smiled. 

She walked closer to me and sniffed. She looked at my face again. She looked at it so closely that I could feel her heat on my skin. 

"So who are you?" she asked again. "Are you a long-lost step brother? ... A cousin? His best friend? What is your connection to Terry Slade?"

I laughed hoping to stall for time. "I read about that case in the papers," I said. "He was an engineer. He'd just graduated from college. It was almost exactly a year ago. In three days, it will be a year, right. Last year on Halloween night, he drove off a cliff. The papers said that he'd just bought himself a hopped-up Mustang, and they think he lost control of the car and took a long assed fall. That doesn't seem like murder. It seems like an accident." She looked angrily at me. 

"Detective, I think I can solve your case for you," I said. 

"You can?" she asked. "What do you know?"

"I know who killed Terry Slade," I said, trying hard not to smirk. 

She pulled out her notebook and pencil then. "Okay, who did it?" she asked. 

"Gravity," I smiled. She got so angry that the tip of her pencil snapped. 

"Okay, asshole," she spat. "Let's get serious. You are the same size as Terry Slade. You have the same face as Terry Slade. Your features are different, but I've spent so much time watching videos of the man that I can see you have the same facial expressions. You even feel like Terry Slade ..." 

"How the hell would you know what he felt like?" I asked. 

"I met him once," she spat. Suddenly, time stood still for me. I really looked at her face, and I was sure that I had never seen this woman before. She was too pretty to be forgotten. And that tall, thin, but curvy body was the stuff of dreams. I was sure that I had never seen this woman before a few weeks ago. 

"It was a long time ago," she said almost on the verge of tears. "My mom and dad split up when I was a kid. My dad's new wife was an older woman. He only married the bitch because she had a lot of money. She also had a son. He was a couple of years older than me and when you're twelve, a ten-year-old seems like a baby. I only had to see them once or twice a year when my dad got his custody visits. Most of his friends laughed at me, and I wanted nothing to do with them. I only had to be around them for a weekend once or twice a year anyway. 

But on one of those weekends, I took a tumble. While my step brother and most of his friends split their sides laughing at me, one of his friends ran over and picked me up. He got some paper towels from the kitchen and cleaned off my scrape. He wiped off my tears, stormed over and demanded that my step brother and his friends stop laughing or else! He even went and got my step-mother. That was my one-time meeting with Terry Slade," she said. 

"I looked forward to seeing him again when I went back to visit my dad," she continued. "But he didn't come over. When I finally asked about him. My step-mother told me that he didn't come over anymore. I asked my stupid step-brother about it, and he told me a lie. He said he didn't want to be friends with him anymore. I found out the truth from one of my step brother's friends almost a year later. I had been the reason Terry stopped being friends with my step brother. Terry thought my step brother was an asshole for caring more about impressing his friends than taking care of his own sister." 

"Detective that's a great story," I said. "But what does it have to do with me?" 

"YOU," she screamed at me. "You have something to do with my case. There are too many fucking coincidences. You look like him. You talk like him. You feel like him. You're driving a car that except for the color is exactly like Terry's Mustang. I'm not just talking about the same year of Mustang. You have the exact same modifications. I spent more than three months studying Mustang modifications. Did you know that Mustangs are probably the most customized cars in the world? There are hundreds of websites that focus exclusively on Mustangs. It's very rare for two guys, even when they're in the same club to do exactly the same modifications to their cars. How do you explain the fact that your car is exactly like his?"

"Uhm ... coincidence," I spat, "Or maybe good taste."




Ghost Driver



"Look Mr..." She paused again. 

"DB," I said. 

"DB, if you know something about my God Damned case you'd better start talking, or I'll ..." She suddenly grabbed me by my jacket and started pulling me. I had no idea what she was up to until it happened. 

She dragged me over to the bench where Kathy sat. "Mrs. Jenkins, look who I've found!" she said triumphantly. 

Kathy looked me up and down. Her eyes went over every detail of my face and body, and then she turned to the detective and asked, "Okay, who is he?" 

"You ... You don't know him," asked the detective, releasing my jacket.

"Never saw him before in my life," said Kathy evenly. "Detective, Grayson, are you doing it again? Honey, maybe you need to take some time off AGAIN. I think it may be worse this time. Do you want me to ..." 

Kathy was interrupted by the sound of Grayson's phone ringing. "I have to go," she said. She turned and started walking quickly away from us, back the way we'd come. 

If she had stayed only a few seconds more, she would have seen something that would have made her even more suspicious. 

The baby on the blanket had crawled and scooted her way over to me. She tugged on my pants leg as if she wanted me to pick her up. "Dada," she gurgled. 

Her grandmother looked at me, and her mouth dropped open. Our eyes met, and I dropped to my knees and picked up the baby. I gently handed her to her grandmother and left even faster than the Detective had. 

The sun was beginning to set, and I had work to do that night. 

* * * * * *

Darleen

The dark dingy dressing room is nothing like the light airy main room of the club. The women in the dressing room chattered away as I walked in. They gave me the once over, and some of them laughed. These women were professional strippers. Most of them had years or even decades of dance training. They had bodies that were hardened by years of that training along with dieting and working out. 

Most of them also had artificial enhancements of one type or another. Some only had hair extensions or hair that was dyed either blond or bizarre colors like blue or purple to make them stand out. There were others with huge un-natural breasts or even Kardashian-like butt implants. 

As I watched them walk around it was incredible. Nothing jiggled on them. Their legs, their breasts, and even their asses were so tight that nothing moved. Their tummies were tight with clearly defined abs. 

I know that they wondered who I was and why I was there. As I've mentioned they were professionals. They auditioned and competed for their spots. They also competed to be the best stripper there and for better tips. It was all about the money to them. 

Not one of them had seen me audition, so whispers went through them. When I took off my clothes, some of them laughed again. One woman who looked really young came over to me. 

"Hi, I'm Cherry," she smiled. "Don't let these whores scare you. They're just as afraid of you as you are of them. Where did you dance before this?" 

"I've never danced," I said. 

"Holy shit," she exclaimed. "So why are you here?" 

"Mike told me to come here tonight," I said. "I didn't have a choice." 

"You mean Michael Robbins ... As in Scarface Mike?" she gasped. I nodded. 

"How do you know him?" she asked. I started telling her but left a lot of it out. I never told anyone about Terry, or what happened to him. I was too afraid of Mike and what he might do for that. 

Within moments, Cherry had rounded up a lot of the other girls and dragged them over to me. 

"You think we have it bad," she told them. "Mike ruined her marriage to a guy she loved. He tricked her and then started fucking her. Her husband, who loved her, beat the fuck out of Mike and walked out on her. Her husband is the one who fucked Mike's face up. Mike keeps her like a prisoner now. She didn't even want to be here tonight. As far as she knows she isn't even getting paid." 

The women started murmuring among themselves. A tall thin woman with huge tattooed breasts stepped forward. "I hate to tell you this, girl," she said. "But he's playing a game with you. He's been sniffing around Phoebe all week. We aren't short any dancers. Most of us would jump at the chance for more stage time. More dances means more money, you know. And most of us have bills to pay. But this way, he can take Phoebe somewhere and while he's wining and dining that whore, he knows where you are too." 

While we were talking, my mother showed up. I have no idea why she was there. My mother wouldn't set foot in a strip club if she was starving, and they were handing out steaks. 

"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked. All the strippers were suddenly cooing and gushing over Terri. Cherry asked if she could hold her. I asked her to watch her for me for a few moments while I spoke to my mother. 

My mom seemed hesitant to let Cherry so much as touch Terri, but she reluctantly gave in. 

"The weirdest fucking thing ever happened today," gushed my mom. "I took Terri to the park. That detective, you know the one. The blond they assigned to Terry's case. Well, she showed up with some guy. Now the guy didn't look like Terry. I mean he was thin and wiry like Terry and about the same size, but his face was ... I don't know different. His nose wasn't the same, and his mouth was different. Terry had brown eyes, and this guy had blue ones. 

So I was sure that it wasn't him. But you know how kids are. Terri crawled right over to him and grabbed his legs and called him Dada. Shit, she hardly talks at all, but she was a fuckin' chatter box suddenly. 

Anyway, when that little girl said, "Dada," he dropped his guard. I looked into his eyes, and I'm telling you, it was Terry."

"Mom that's ridiculous," I said. "It's impossible. Terry is dead. I saw the body myself." 

I could tell that she was shaken up. I also knew that my mom knew Terry as well as I did. Maybe she was just holding onto hope. But I have no idea what she was hoping for. Maybe she thought that I was such a shitty mother that she wanted Terry to come back from the dead and take custody of Terri away from me. That had been his intention before he died. 

I blamed that blond cop more than anyone else. I loved Terry with all of my heart. I'd made one fucking mistake. I had a few days of weakness. I was and am a human being. But Terry threw me away like garbage. 

He graduated with honors and got a great job, just as he'd always told me we would. Within a few weeks of him moving out of my mom's house, so I could move in, Terry had moved into a beautiful house in the suburbs. It wasn't huge but it was in a really good neighborhood, and it had a really nice yard. 

I know all about it because Terry invited my mom over and made dinner for her to thank her for always being there for him. It also hurt me that Terry invited my mom to his graduation, but not me. My mom didn't even tell me about it until it was over, because she knew that I would have crashed the graduation. 

She made me realize how sad it was and why she needed to be there. She reminded me that Terry's parents had died when we were young. If she hadn't gone, he would have had no one in the audience at his own graduation. He graduated with honors but there was no one except my mom in the huge audience for him to share it with. 

That made me feel even worse. Terry had to forgive me. I refused to sign his divorce papers. I told his lawyer every time I saw him that I would not give Terry a divorce under any circumstances. 

Mike got me a lawyer, so I could fight it. And yes, I had to keep fucking Mike to get him to pay for it. At first, there was nothing to be gained by it. Terry was twenty-two years old, and I was twenty one. We were married for less than three years. We didn't have anything worth fighting over. Terry had left me in the house we were renting. At the time that Terry left me, we had two hundred dollars in the bank. He left all of that to me. Terry just walked away and left me everything except his clothes. 

Both Terry's lawyer and mine knew that I wouldn't get a dime. But it was never about money. I wanted my husband. I wanted our marriage. Terry had to get his head out of his ass and realize that all human beings make mistakes. 

The next thing I knew, I was coming back from a meeting with my lawyer. A car pulled up in front of our house. It was a 2014 Mustang. Terry had always loved Mustangs. Even Mike noticed the car. It was the brightest red I had ever seen. It had all kinds of custom parts and the loudest exhaust system I had ever heard. 

Mike was bringing me back to mom's house from the meeting with my lawyer. I guess he was really bringing me home, so he could fuck me. It made me feel like a whore. Sex with Mike, even before Terry caught us, had never been about pleasure or love. It had always been the coin of the realm. In other words, I fucked Mike to get something that I wanted. 

Before Terry caught us, I wanted clothes and to go places that Terry didn't have the time or the money to take me. Afterwards, I wanted my lawyer paid for or other expenses. I had never loved Mike. There had only ever been one man that I felt love for, and I was busting my ass to get him back. So if I had to fuck a thousand Mikes a day, I would do it to get my man back. 

The problem was that I never wanted Terry to know that I had done it. But when he got out of that red Mustang, I knew that things had just gotten much worse. If I'd thought that things had been bad before it got much worse. 

As Terry got out of the car, he looked right through me at Mike. They never said a word to each other. It was like there was a battle going in between them that I never understood. My mother had to explain it to me later. 

Mike saw Terry get out of that Mustang. He pushed me out of his car and then walked around and put his arm around me. At the time, I thought it was weird because Mike had never been affectionate towards me. But since I had seen Terry, I was unsteady on my feet, so I'd been glad that Mike grabbed me to steady me. 

My mom who'd seen the whole exchange explained to me that it was a gesture meant to show Terry that Mike owned me. It was kind of an "in your face," gesture that implied not only ownership, but that he had taken me from Terry. 

Terry then smiled and rubbed his hand across his own face. He let one side of his jaw hang slack. Even I understood that he was reminding Mike exactly what he had done to his face. Terry's sneer at me and spitting on the ground afterwards indicated that he didn't consider losing me a big deal. And the fact that he even refused to acknowledge my greeting, meant that I was no longer worthy of his notice or even his normal good manners. 

He walked my mom to the door as I watched with tears running down my cheeks. And then he backed out of the driveway and peeled out driving down the street in a display of how cool his car was. 

Half of the guys on my block were yelling and talking about Terry's car then, which only served to further infuriate Mike. My mother being home meant that Mike wouldn't be getting any pussy made him even angrier. 

But Mike's absolute declaration of war came when people all over the neighborhood started on Terry again. They bragged about his car. They ragged about his college degree and his great career. Mike told them that he could buy anything Terry could and more. He reminded them that he had a lot more money than Terry did, and he made more money in a month than Terry did in a year. 

One of Mike's friends explained it to him. "Dude, his money is legit," he said. "He can go into any place in the world and open accounts and buy shit and get credit. They write articles in the newspaper about him. They invited him to come and speak at the high school that we all went to. He is a success story. On the other hand, Mike, your money is drug money. You can't even put that shit in the bank without the Feds sniffing up your ass. You have to hide it all over town and there are always people looking forward to killing you for the money or to take your place and your territory. Everything you do has to be so complicated. Can you go out and buy yourself a nice house in the suburbs like he did? Nope, you have to get someone to buy it in their name for you, or you get hit for tax evasion and shit like that. 

Mike, have you seen his new girlfriend?" he asked. That was news to me as well. 

"You know he works for Ford, right," asked the guy. "Have you seen the redhead in those new Ford commercials? Terry is dating her. She's even hotter in person. But it's not too late for you, Mike. You guys are the same age. Take some of that drug money and go to college. If you stay on the same path you're on now, you're going to end up either dead or in jail with a stretched-out asshole." 

Mike began to take it out on me then. I can even remember him calling me a redheaded whore as he pounded away on me in a motel room. Since my hair is brown, I knew immediately what was going on. It was funny to me because we were both doing the same thing. 

"Mike, if you really want a crack at that skinny bitch, why don't you help me get my husband back," I said. "Then you can really go all over town and tell everyone how you took me from him and when you got tired of fucking me; you sent me back." 

"You wouldn't care?" he asked. "Everybody we know would talk about you like you were a ho." 

"Fuck everybody we know," I spat. "I need my husband back. And Mike you can't keep fucking me that hard in that position; I'm pregnant. I don't want anything to happen to my baby." 

He looked at me strangely then. "Is it ...?" he began. 

"Yours," I laughed. "More than likely not, Mike. I've only had sex with two men in my entire life. And you and I have never had sex without a condom." 

It was Mike who came up with the idea that my divorce could be put on hold until the paternity of the baby could be determined. That was a good thing because just making the motion was grounds for the divorce to be delayed. Terry's lawyer fired right back though. There was a hearing, and Terry's lawyer countered our motion by stating that we could go ahead with the divorce, and Terry would even pay for a DNA test immediately after the birth. He would also agree to pay whatever the maximum amount of child support, if the child was his. 

The kindly old judge asked Terry if there was no chance that our marriage might be saved. Terry then proved exactly how much contempt for Mike, and me that he had. 

"Your honor, no honorable man would want to be married to a woman who broke her marriage vows and had sex with another man. It's especially bad when the guy is a known drug dealer. I will pay child support, and I will be in my child's life if it IS my child. But there is no way that I want anything to do with the mother." 

All hell broke loose in the court room. There were all kinds of people who started cheering for Terry, and a bunch of people started taking pictures. Mike tried to hide his face and run out of the court room. He had never been caught or even implicated in any drug-related offenses. But there were several police officers there on unrelated cases and a lot of them took a good look at him. Again, Mike was belittled and degraded by Terry. This time it was far more serious because he'd done it, not in the neighborhood but in a court of law. 

It was his own fault though. He was the one who'd insisted on being there. He had hoped to get a closer look at Terry's new woman, who wasn't even there. 

The judge was trying to make a case that children needed a mother and a father in their lives. But Terry was ready for him again. 

"Your honor, I agree with you," Terry told him. "Being a father is important to me. It's something I've dreamed of for most of my life. And for the longest time, I actually dreamed of doing it with this woman," he said pointing to me. "That dream, in fact, is part of the reason that I worked so hard in school, while working nights. All I ever wanted was a home and a family with the woman I loved and whom I thought loved me. I still want that, your honor. I just need to have it with a different woman. I need to have it with a woman I can trust. This child, if it does turn out to be mine, will be welcome to be a part of that life. I intend to be an active father. But at the same time, children are very sensitive. Nowadays, there are all kinds of blended family configurations. It would be far better and far healthier for a child to have two parents who love him, although they aren't together, than to have two people who HATE each other but are forced to stay together because of him. A child can sense it when his parents are not happy." 

"Well said," said the judge. "I see no reason for the pregnancy to delay this process any further. The lawyers for both parties will submit the paperwork in a timely manner for my approval." 

I was numb. My lawyer started talking to me. He was sure that it would take the lawyers a few weeks at least to agree on the language on the paperwork. The court usually gave them two to three months to get it in. There would then be a six-month wait before the divorce would be final. That mean that approximately three months after my baby was born, his or her father would leave me. 

I walked out of the court room and found my mother talking to Terry. She gestured for me to come over to where they were standing. I was very nervous as I approached them. My mother was obviously trying to help me. 

"Darleen, I was just telling Terry that they have tests that can determine paternity before the baby is born, now," she said. "That way, we could find out early who the father is and maybe Terry could be in the baby's life even sooner." 

"That's a great idea, Mom," I said. "Terry, this IS your baby. We don't need to go on Maury. I have only had sex with two men and only one man in the world has ever been inside of me bareback, Daddy." I tried to get him to smile. 

The funny thing about it was that being that close to him, though I had been nervous about it at first was making me feel stronger. As I looked at him, I noticed that he was becoming weaker. Terry, my strong willed, strong-minded husband was on the verge of tears. 

"I've heard about those tests," he choked out. "They always say that there's only a tiny chance of any injury to the baby. The odds have always been against me, Darleen. When we got married everyone there thought that we would be together forever. There was only the tiniest chance that we wouldn't. Most people thought the only way we'd ever be apart would be if one of us died. That tiny chance came through. We didn't even last three years. 

When I worked at the plant, there was always a small chance that someone would get hurt. We had a great safety record. No one had gotten seriously hurt in that plant in nine years. But it happened too didn't it? And what are the chances that I would come home and find you fucking some scumbag in my bed?" As he spoke his eyes got wetter and redder. I was moving closer to him. I was on my way to taking him in my arms and hugging him there on the spot. 

"The odds don't ever seem to work out for me," he continued. "So on the off chance that this is my baby," I'd rather wait until it's born to have the test done. I don't give a bubbly fart what happens to it if it's Mike's puppy. But I want my child to be as healthy as possible." 

"Whatever you say, Honey," I said. "I love you, Terry. Even with the mistakes I made due to my stupidity. I never stopped loving you. And I can tell, by the way you're trying not to cry that you still love me too. Can't we go somewhere and talk this out." 

"No you can't," said a very rich voice from behind him. It was, of course, the redhead. "He already has plans for tonight, the rest of the week and the rest of his life." She put her arms around him and literally pulled him away from me until she was standing between us. 




Ghost Driver



I was shocked. I mean I'm a nice-looking woman. There have always been guys interested in me. I never paid them any attention though, because I was always interested in Terry. But the woman who stood in front of me was beautiful. It was scary how pretty she was. And she wasn't like the girls I'd grown up with who thought they were pretty. She wasn't the type of woman who layered on tons of makeup and had to have her hair done every five minutes. 

She stood there between us, and even though she had no makeup on, she was prettier than all of the women in the building. And everybody there knew it. Even worse was her obvious intelligence. She was smart enough to recognize what she had in Terry, and she was not letting him go. She was also fierce enough to make a scene if necessary. 

This was a woman who could probably have any guy she wanted, and she was standing there, prepared to fight for Terry when I, the woman he'd loved enough to marry had lost him over a few stupid outfits and the chance to go out and be seen in some clubs that no one will remember in a few months. I pissed my life away for pretty much nothing. 

"It was nice seeing you again, Kathy," she said to my mother. "Come on Honey." 

And then she walked out, pulling Terry with her. He never even looked back at me. 

When I got out of the building, I heard the loud assed exhaust system on Terry's Mustang start up. I looked over and noticed another Mustang, a silver one, next to his. I knew without even looking that it was her car. 

I came out of my thoughts and told my mother that we would talk about it when I got home. As I said her words had made me numb. I was hoping with all of my heart that there was something to what she'd said no matter how impossible it was. On the other hand, I was afraid that Terry might have worked some sort of miracle and come back to life. As much as I still loved him and ached for him, I didn't want Terry alive again. 

Cherry and some of the other girls came over as my mom left. "What are you going to wear?" they asked. I showed them my bikini, and they all started coming up with outfits I could borrow. They looked me over and started vetoing some of the outfits off hand. 

"Honey did you know that you have some cottage cheese on your ass," said one woman. "And your tummy is kind of pudgy," said another. "Your boobs are kind of saggy for your frame," said a third. 

They came up with an outfit that included a corset. The idea was that the corset would push my boobs up and disguise my tummy. 

They were giving me their honest opinions based in what they knew men wanted to see from their fantasy women. Apparently, that was what Mike wanted too. It made me long even more for what I had lost. 

Terry loved women. He loved real women. I can remember Terry grabbing big handfuls of my booty every time he saw it. He loved the way my ass jiggled when I wore jeans or tight skirts. Terry loved me for the way I was not for the way men thought a woman should be. 

Terry would hate the idea of me going out on a stage and taking my clothes off in front of a bunch of strange men. He always considered my body HIS property alone. Maybe this was just another way for Mike to piss on Terry's grave. Maybe it was another way for him to remind me that the two of us were tied together, even though he didn't love me, and I would never love him. Or maybe it was simply fate that was punishing me for my part in killing Terry. 

I walked out onto the stage oblivious to the cheers of the drunk men seated around the stage. I danced the way I did in my room when I was alone. The cheers died. It's been said that any woman, no matter what she looks like can get a man under the right circumstances. 

There were a few men out there who liked what they saw. They liked the fact that I reminded them of their sister or the girl next door. My dancing was amateurish at best and awful at worst. But when I started taking my clothes off, even my few fans looked away in boredom. I'd been told to go out and dance for a three-minute song. It was the longest two minutes of my life. I never made it past two minutes before the DJ started talking and telling the crowd to give me a round of applause. My music was still playing as they pulled me off of the stage. 

The manager looked at me like he'd never seen that reaction before. He told me to go out and circulate. The idea was for me to try to sell lap dances. 

I did get what I thought was a lot of takers until I looked over and saw men fighting to get close to Cherry, and she hadn't even gone onstage yet. There were three guys who wanted lap dances from me. And two of the three didn't really like them. They complained to the manager. The third guy broke the rules and tried to grind his dick into my ass. He also whispered in my ear that he'd give me ten dollars if I let him fuck me. It was the most demeaning experience of my life. I ran out of the room crying. 

* * * * * *

Terry 

As darkness settled over the area, I felt a sense of calm settle over me. It wasn't always this way. The second time that it had happened was the worst. The first time, I had no idea what was going to happen. I remember that I was in the car and had been knocked out or maybe killed by the impact. 

A man stood in front of me. He looked like a game show host. He even had a big dumb assed smile and a shiny fucking suit. I looked around, and I was somewhere. I have no words to describe it. I know it was a pocket dimension that was moved out of the space-time continuum. It was neither here nor there. It was outside of the flow of time but still existed in our reality. 

As I watched he waved his hand and time backed up like the rewind button on a cheap old VCR. He let time moved forward, and I saw myself as my car fell hit and then started to burn. He backed it up again and stepped inside of the accident. He paused it and gestured for me to come over. 

We stood there inside of my car, or maybe the car was inside of us. We were there and occupying the same physical space but out of phase with the physical plane. 

"Did you see the way your head bounced back from the airbag?" He asked. "But then since you were falling gravity slammed your head into the steering wheel. Lucky you were already knocked out. That would have hurt a lot. Wait until you see the marks on your skull from the impact. Your frontal bone, right by the glabella shattered like a thrown beer bottle. 

I'm not sure, but I think that was the hit that killed you. In retrospect, I think it's a good thing. It means that you didn't burn to death. You were already dead when the flames started. But since you didn't burn to death, you have no subconscious fear of flames. That would be a bad thing." He was still smiling. 

We stepped outside of the accident, and I saw myself again. "Hey, stop looking at that," he said. "I'm trying to have a conversation with you." 

I just looked at him. I thought that maybe I was dreaming or something. 

"You're not dreaming," he said. "I've been waiting a long time for you. Let's get out of here. The accident is too distracting for you." 

The next thing I knew we were in a room. The room was white. The floor was white; the ceiling was white, and all the walls were white. There were no windows or doors in the room. I wondered how we'd gotten in. 

"Okay now we can talk," he said. "You're as dead as disco. The question is whether or not you want to stay that way." 

"What choice do I have?" I asked. "Are you going to like give me a do over like in the comic books or the movies?"

"Nope, I'm going to give you a job," he smirked. "Actually, I'm just the one who recruited you. You will probably do the occasional job for the other guys as well, but I'm your boss. When I call ... You come." 

"So what would I do?" I asked. 

"Basically, you'd be like my messenger ... Or like a delivery boy. Do you remember that movie the transporter? It's kind of like that. Mostly, it's a case where from time to time something gets out, and you have to deliver it back." 

"I don't know," I said. 

"You need to figure out something," he smirked. "Because no one knows exactly what to do with you. You're not really BAD enough to go to hell, but at the same time you're not GOOD enough to go to heaven.

I mean basically you swear occasionally, and you tell the odd lie every so often, but you're basically a good guy. And that lasts until something pushes you over the edge. You become a motherfucker when they piss you off. Look at what you did to your friend Mike. 

They might've let you into heaven even after that, or maybe they would have sent you back to earth for a while and watched to see where your heart really was. But then you spent months torturing that woman. What was her name ... Darleen? You were needlessly cruel to that woman. I mean I understand what the bitch did to you, but you built exactly the life she dreamed of and then shut her out of it. You did it just beyond her reach. Sure, she cheated on you. But she was young and stupid and bored. She never meant to hurt you. But, everything you did was designed to cause her the most pain you could muster." 

"She deserved it," I hissed. 

"You might be downstairs material after all," he smirked. "Jeezus you have the capacity to carry a lot of fucking hate around with you. I'll tell you what I'll sweeten the deal. For every thirteen problems you take care of for me, I'll let you handle one of your own." 

"Sold," I said. But before the word had left my mouth, we were standing in the morgue. 

"I assume that you'd like your own meat sack back Jack?" he smirked at me. "Sorry, I sometimes have this thing for rhyming triplets." 

I looked on the slab and found my own body lying there. He lifted one of my arms, and the head of my humerus broke free. "Crispy," he said. He put the arm back in place and then grabbed some of my charred clothing. He ran his hands over the floor as of gathering something from it. In his left hand, he sprinkled some of the ashes over the body. His right hand sprinkled what he's gathered from the floor. 

"Ashes to ashes," he cackled. "Dust to dust. Etcetera. Etcetera, etcetera." 

The body on the table writhed and changed in front of me. I walked around it looking at it from every angle. "What happened to my face?" I asked. "I look different."

"You died, dummy," he said. "We can't send you back looking like yourself. If anyone you used to know sees you, it could cause all kinds of problems. Now get in there." 

"How," I asked. Before he could say anything, I felt myself drawn back into my body. 

I felt good. I felt stronger than I had ever been. "Now we have to get you something to ride," he said. He snapped his fingers, and a horse appeared in front of us. 

"A distant relative of yours used this one," he smiled. "You like." 

"Do I look like a fuckin' cowboy to you?" I asked. He snapped his fingers again. A motorcycle appeared in front of us. 

"How about this," he asked. "My last guy loved these. You've heard of Johnny Blaze, right?" 

"Read about him in the comic books," I said. "Things didn't work out well between the two of you did they?" 

"Okay, what do you want?" he asked. He looked over at me. "Alright I'll give you a car." He snapped his fingers, and a black Audi sedan appeared in front of us. 

"Fuck you," I said. "I have too much hair for that car. And I can't fake Jason Statham's accent." 

The Audi disappeared and in its place was a silver BMW. I glared at him. "What now," he asked. 

"What's with you and these euro trash sedans?" I asked. Another snap of his fingers swapped the BMW for a red Lamborghini.

"You're getting closer," I said. 

"Oh alright, God dammit," he said. He snapped his fingers, and my Mustang was there in front of us.

"Perfect," I said. 

"You can't have that fucking car," he hissed. 

"Why not," I asked.

"For the same reason that I didn't give you your own face back," he said. "Pick another one." 

"There are lots of Mustangs out there," I said. "It'll blend in better than any of the cars you wanted. Just paint it a different color. How about black?" 

"You'd better be worth it," he grumbled. And then he vanished, along with the car. 

"Hey, wait," I said. He reappeared. 

"What do I do now?" I asked. 

"You have a couple of hours until nightfall," he said. "Go out and drive around in your little car. But from now on, you are the Devil's Bitch. When I call, you come. And I will be calling soon. In the meantime, stay away from places you used to go and people you used to know."

As I said before, that first night, it was too much of a surprise for me to be apprehensive about it. There was some pain to be honest about it, but I was so charged up that I paid it no mind. What I did freak out about was what happened to my car. 

I had, as I told Satan, seen Johnny Blaze in comic books. I knew that he had ridden that same dried out motorcycle that cheap bastard had tried to palm off on me. I knew that when Blaze changed, his bike did too. It became a thing of hellfire with skulls and shit all over it. 

My blacked out Mustang glowed with amazing sky blue flames. The pony emblem on the grill was the same color as the flames. The rims were still black, but the brake calipers and tires were blue flames. The headlights were like snake's eyes, but they were made of blue flames. 

Another interesting thing about the car was that in its normal mode, the car was a truly beautiful extremely high gloss, glass black. But in demonic mode, the car was a flat black. The lettering across the back of the car was funny. It read, Hellby. Not Shelby ... Hellby. 

The front quarter panel emblems weren't 5.0 badges or running ponies or even snakes. There was a 13.0 on each quarter panel. I wonder if like on the regular Mustang GT the number referred to the engine's displacement. If it did the car would have to be scary fast. If a normal 5.0 five liter engine could put out over 600 horsepower with a supercharger, this thing would be incredible. 

"Don't just stand there gawking at that thing," said a voice over my shoulder. "Get to work." Inside my head, an image formed. I knew what the thing was. I knew I could track it using my car's Hellby GPS system, and I had a vague idea of what to do with it once I caught it. 

That was twelve cases ago. This would be my thirteenth. And after this case, I was allowed one of my own. I already knew that Michael was responsible for my death. He would follow me soon only he would be sent to the pit to burn for all eternity. 

As the last embers of the fading sun disappeared, my body burned. My face and head were no longer visible, hidden beneath what appeared as a race car driver's helmet surrounded by the same blue flames that framed my car. My clothes were replaced by a racing suit that also glowed with the blue flames. 

Beside me, my car changed as well. I got into the car and revved the hellish 13 liter engine. The roar of my exhaust system was loud as ... Hell. But surprisingly only the truly evil could hear it. 

I looked down at my console and saw not one demon but two. The first one a smaller one called Pythius looked like something I could bring in while still in my human form. The second one Agravon was the one I saw at the riot. He had been wearing a different body, but I could recognize the essence of his foul soul no matter what he wore or how he tried to disguise himself. 

* * * * * *

Callie

I was excited. I had never before been invited to a party of any size or any type. And now I was holding a huge party. The last time I had even thought about having a party had been my eleventh birthday party. That was also the last time I ever showed my feelings. That had been a real disaster. I was going to have ice cream and cake and soda and chips. I wanted to play games and watch my favorite movie. 

I found out the day of the party that none of the cool kids in school were coming. That meant that none of the kids who were trying to be cool would come either. So with the exception of two of my friends who were as nerdy and needy as I was, no one came. 

It was the quickest saddest little party ever. We sat around looking at each other. The games were no fun with only the three of us. We watched the movie, but since we had all seen it several times, we didn't even watch it all the way. I got two nice presents from them, mostly because I'd given them presents on their birthdays, too. We each had a piece of cake, a scoop of ice cream and called it a night. 

The party was over in just over an hour. They made a lot of jokes about it in school the next day. They called it a kiddie party. And since they were all trying to be seen as teenagers, I guess they were all above such things. 

From then on, I have never had another party. You can only be kicked in the teeth so many times before you close your mouth. On the other hand, I haven't been invited to any parties since then either. 

And what Agravon was holding tonight wasn't exactly a party. It was a full-fledged rave. He somehow got one of the biggest DJs in town to spin at the party. He had people supplying liquor, which of course would not be free. We got a share of the profits for that. There would, of course, be several drug dealers there, and we got a cut of that as well. 

Agravon had a way with people. Besides his own need for Chaos to feed upon, which was the real reason for the rave, he had somehow taken over Pythius' power of lies. That was how he convinced people that they were getting the better end of the deal. 

I heard him talking to the drug dealers. He made them think that this party was only an audition for our next party in three days. He told them that our Halloween party, The Rave to the Grave, would be the biggest party ever held in our state. 

The strange thing about it is that I realize now how pathetic I was. Over the last few days, my life has changed to the point of being unrecognizable. 

There are men at school following me around like puppies. I see them all the time trying to sneak a look at my boobs. Chunky girls usually have big boobs, but before now, no one wanted to look at them. Dealing with Agravon raised my confidence level considerably. 

Agravon had made me realize that barely one person in a million could have performed the spells that I had. I still remember reading all of those comments on the Internet about how even the most simple spells I had done, hadn't worked for most of them. I realized that you had to have a certain type and amount of innate power for the spells to work. I also realized that I had it. 

Then a few days ago, I heard some of the girls at school who thought they were cute or special talking about going to the rave. They were bragging about how much fun it was going to be and what they were wearing. 

I surprised myself, by speaking up. 

"You're not going," I said. 

"What did you say," asked one of them. 

"You heard me," I said. "You aren't going. You can go there if you want. But once you get there you won't get in. No matter how much money you bring or who you come with you won't get in." 

"And why is that?" she asked. She was trying to act tough, but suddenly I could see how nervous she was. She wasn't just nervous; she was scared. She was just as afraid as I used to be. 

"Remember last week when you and your dumbass friends made fun of me?" I asked. 

"Well, we always make fun of you," she smirked. "You're weird." 

"Do any of you idiots have the website that advertised the rave on your laptops?" I asked. "Pull it up. You'll notice that this one is only a warm-up for our Halloween Rave. You should also notice that my associate Agravon, and I are hosting both parties. We're going to make a lot of money doing it, so I don't need yours." 




Ghost Driver



"Holy fuck! She's not kidding," exclaimed one of the guys. "There's her picture." The woman's face fell. She seemed on the verge of tears. 

"Hey, weird girl. I don't really know her that well. I don't really hang out with her either, so can I still come," asked one of the guys sitting at the table with her. 

"Not only can you come; I'll let you in for free," I said. "What's your name?" He told me his name, and I made a note of it. "I'll set you up for a discount on your drinks and uhm ... STUFF," I said. 

I got up and walked away to a chorus of people begging for me to come back, and swearing that they didn't even know the girl I had just ostracized either. I had begun to see why Agravon craved power. With only a few words, I had reduced my biggest tormentor to tears. 

I felt absolutely no guilt over what I had done to her. I felt no need to be the bigger person. At least when I had been down, I had self-respect. Apparently, she had none. She started stalking me and offering me everything she could think of. She wanted to be friends. Then she wanted to volunteer to be my sidekick. She changed that to flunky. She offered to let her boyfriend have sex with me. Then she offered to have sex with me herself. She even started trying to copy my clothes. 

I finally agreed to let all of her friends, including her boyfriend attend the rave. But I let her continue to suffer. There would even be photos of her at every entrance to make sure she could not get in. A few days later, she would realize two things. The first was that bullying has consequences. She had already learned that and regretted it immensely. The second thing she would learn was that she was actually the lucky one. 

* * * * * *

Interlude

The sleek plane touched down at Detroit metro airport and taxied to a rented hangar. No one would search the plane. The large cross on the tail and the Vatican's coat of arms saw to that. The occupants of the plane all had diplomatic immunity. Inside the plane, there was a beehive of activity. There was also a constant and heavy thudding sound that everyone aboard the plane ignored. Two women brushed and cleaned distinctive leather cloaks. A man sat at a computer in a specially built alcove in the plane. His fingers flashed across the computer's keyboard like lightning. 

Two other men immediately left the plane and went into the airport to secure a rental vehicle. In the rear of the plane, the three women upon whom all of the activity was focused sat. 

They were a study in contrasts. A slim and beautiful woman who was about fifty years old but looked much younger sat at her own computer screen. She wore a pair of half glasses that sat perched on her nose like a librarian's would. 

Across the aisle from her, another woman nervously looked out the window of the plane. She was short and thin with a lot of nervous energy. This would be her first real mission with the team. She had been with them for six months but hadn't seen any real action yet. They had been ordered to take a month off after their last serious mission a little over a year previous. 

They had lost another member on that mission. A woman named Sister Piety had given her life in a struggle against a very powerful witch and the vampire that served her. That vampire had been hundreds of years old and was probably the strongest vamp they had ever faced. 

The mission had begun with Sister Piety being kidnapped. They had called in Piety's erstwhile love interest; a New Orleans vampire named Mason Devereaux. They had worked with Mason before, and he had actually flown to Texas to rescue the other two team members, who were under siege by a mixed group of vamps and werewolves. 

It turned into a battle royal between them, with everyone they could imagine helping them out. Besides their former member Sister Prudence, they enlisted the help of her husband Jason, four red-headed witches, the husband of one of the witches, a Native American Shaman, a bewitched car and its driver Who was a child with some type of powers herself. 

The opposition consisted of several very strong vampires, a hoard of werewolves, a disembodied force that was thousands of years old and a woman who had been killed during the Salem witch trials which had absorbed the souls and powers of a hundred witches. 

They needed the break to deal with Sister Piety's death. It was also a chance for Piety's replacement, Sister Praise, to gel with the team. They trained together. They studied together. They discussed strategy. They prayed together. 

Their first three forays together weren't really much. The first was a pure research mission. The second turned out to be a hoax. And the third, although there had been some action involved wasn't really the type of case they were supposed to handle. 

But this was different. This was the real thing. This case had the two veteran nuns worried. A local priest had gotten the report and had sent that to an investigator. The investigator agreed with the priest. He had relayed the information to a bishop who sent it up the chain of command until the team had been dispatched. 

They had no idea what was causing people to behave crazily, but it was determined that some sort of supernatural force was involved. Further investigation over the last few days had seemed to indicate some sort of demonic instigation. 

The pattern seemed to indicate that whatever was instigating it, was building towards a large ritual on Halloween night. 

Sister Praise was nervous. But she was more nervous about her team mates than the mission. 

A part of the reason for her nervousness was sitting just behind her. Sister Penance was the biggest scariest nun who Praise had ever seen. She was like a really beautiful football player. Penance was over six feet tall and over two hundred pounds of muscle. She had huge boobs and a well-shaped butt. But she was stronger than most men. 

At that moment, Penance was slamming the head of a huge Gothic mace into a rubber pad on the floor of the plane. Every time she slammed the mace against the pad the impact shook the entire plane. 

The mace was a new toy that Penance had recently picked up during their stopover in Chicago. 

They had gone to Chicago while their analysts were getting information on the situation in Michigan. It had not been what Sister Praise expected. They took a car to a really nice house in suburban Chicago. They had knocked on the door and a man, holding a little girl had answered the door. Praise hung back. The man had handed the little girl who had to be all of three years old to Sister Patience. He had hugged Patience like they were old friends, which had shocked Praise. 

The Sisters of Fate were an extremely rare and special order. Most priests deferred to them. It was shocking to see a man just hug one of them. 

Sister Penance reacted. 

"Get your grubby hands off of her," she bellowed. The man looked across at Penance and with no concern on his face asked, "What are you going to do if I don't?" 

"Step outside, and see," said Penance. Praise was taken aback. Even for Penance the behavior was shocking. They had been drilled over and over about conducting themselves as ambassadors of the church. They were supposed to be professional and courteous at all times. 

Praise looked over at Sister Patience, who was so busy bouncing the tiny little girl on her knee that she was paying no attention to their teammate's rampage. Praise followed the man outside into a sizeable yard. 

Penance grabbed a club off of the table and charged the smaller man. Praise was aghast. She had no idea whether she should try to rescue the man from her hulking teammate or just let it play out. 

The man retreated from Penance and snatched a wooden Kendo sword from the table. 

A hand touched Praise lightly on her shoulder. Praise turned to find the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, standing beside her. The woman looked like a model or an earthbound goddess. Her long golden hair formed a halo around her head. 

The woman seemed to be extremely happy. She had that inner glow that only someone who was extremely happy ever had. 

"Don't worry, Sister," the woman said to Praise. "This is their way of saying hello." 

Penance took a swipe at the man's head with the club, and she was not holding back. The man was quicker than greased lightning. He ducked under the swing and chose to mock slash Penance's thick legs with the wooden sword. 

Praise noticed that he could have slashed her midsection and seriously hurt her or even done a thrust that would have penetrated her internal organs and ended the battle had it been real. But he had chosen the leg cut. He clearly wanted to extend the battle. 

Feeling the sword touch her legs, Penance was enraged. She slammed both of her hands into the man's chest knocking him backwards. He rolled with the impact and leaped into the air bringing the wooden sword in a horizontal arc in mid air. With great control, he lightly tapped it against the side of Penance's thick neck. 

"Alright that's one," bellowed Penance. 

"Isn't that two," asked the man politely. "Did you forget the leg cut?"

"Okay, we're tied," said Penance.

"Your club hasn't touched me yet," said the man. 

"My palm strike would have caved your chest in," grumbled Penance. "And since I did it with both hands that counts as two." 

Penance swung her mock mace even as she finished speaking, hoping to catch the man off guard. He sidestepped her blow. The club whistled past the man so hard the club dug into the grass. The man quickly stepped onto the club trapping it on the ground and tapped Penance on the shoulder with the sword. 

"That didn't count," yelled Penance! "No one said go." 

"But you attacked," sputtered the man. 

"Yep, I did," said Penance. "But I never said go. There are rules you know!" 

"There are rules about tearing up my grass too, Penance," yelled the woman beside me. 

"Oh come on Prudence," whined Penance. "Your husband is cheating." 

Penance took her stance up. She held the mace in a high guard. Her face was intense with concentration. 

"Go," she rumbled. I have never seen anyone move as quickly as the man did. He one handed his mock sword. With his free hand, he grabbed Penance's club hand at the forearm. He leaped up onto her bent front knee and brought the tip of his sword down lightly on top of her head. 

"Grrrr," growled Penance. "That was so cheesy it shouldn't count." 

"What did I tell you about using that high guard," he said. "Penance, you are amazing with a mace. You are the most powerful bone-crushing mace woman I have ever seen. But your specialty is power. You are not fast enough for a high guard. I know you like it because you get to add gravity to the force of your blow, but you're not going to connect very often, and your arms are too far away to block most blows." 

Penance looked towards us. "Did he not just say that I won," screamed Penance, jumping up and down. 

"Huh," asked the man in confusion. 

"Honey, you said she was amazing and the most powerful," said the golden goddess beside me. "In Penance talk, that means she won." 

"What did I win? "What did I win," asked Penance. 

"Come on in the house," said the man. "I was saving these for Christmas, but I'll get you something else by then." 

Praise looked at Patience. She walked over carrying the little girl. "Sister Praise, this is the former Sister Prudence," said Patience. Praise went into shock. 

"But you ..." she sputtered. "You didn't lose your grace. I don't understand." 

Prudence smiled at Praise. "Come into the kitchen with me Sister," she said. "We can talk while I whip up some sides. Jason is probably going to grill. Shit, I hope we have enough steak for Penance. We'll have to do some chicken and some Salmon too." 

"Purity, show you Aunt Patience your new move," she yelled. 

"Sister you swore," gasped Praise. 

"I'm not a sister anymore," smiled Prudence. "I'm married. I have sex ... A lot! And I have a baby. Besides, Penance swears all the time." 

"Yeah but we're all too afraid to do anything about it," said Praise. 

* * * * * *

As they prepared to get off of the plane and go after whatever waited for them in Michigan, Praise thought back to her time in Chicago. Prudence had made her choice, and she was immensely happy with her life. Had Praise ever been that happy? Another thing that bothered her was that she got the feeling that Patience and Penance still thought of Prudence as their partner. 

Praise had met Piety once. Piety was selected to replace Prudence, but everyone knew that Prudence had been better than Piety. Praise had found out that Prudence even without her Grace was better with a sword than Piety had been. Piety tried to become Prudence. Piety was also better with a sword than Praise was. Perhaps she should bow out and allow Sister Prudence to take her spot back. It could be done. There were Nuns who had joined an order later in life after having children. 

"Did you fill out a will, yet," smirked Penance, slamming the mace into the pad again. "We keep losing third members like spinal tap loses drummers." 

"Don't worry," smiled Penance. "If anything goes down, I'll protect you. I have to. We're running out of names that start with P."

"Penance is joking, Sister," said Patience, turning off her computer. "She's trying to scare you. Conflicts with demons usually involve more exorcisms than anything physical. It's not like we're going after Vampires. You'll be fine." 

* * * * * *

Callie

Oh my fuckin' God what have I gotten myself into? The party started out great. I was like a queen. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of people all gathered in a field on the old state fairgrounds. The music was very loud and very constant. I couldn't help myself; I danced my ass off. 

I didn't drink anything or do any drugs. I'd never tried alcohol or drugs in my life. Agravon told everyone to let the party progress until around midnight. Then the real party would begin. 

In the darkness, I looked around and recognized a lot of Agravon's guests. There was the woman from the other night who'd told me I didn't need to be afraid of her. There were lots of others there too. 

One of the drug dealers, a guy named Michael was making an ass of himself. He kept bothering Agravon to find out whether or not he would be working the Halloween Rave too. He fancied himself some sort of wannabe gangster. He even had his people call him Scar-faced Mike. 

When he noticed that he wasn't making any progress with Agravon, he started on me. He offered me free samples of his stuff. He told me how pretty he thought I was. But I was getting smarter day by day. I told him that if he wanted to even be considered for the Halloween party, he should get his ass back to peddling his shit. 

I saw Agravon standing up on the DJ booth. To most people, it would seem as if he wanted to be seen. But I knew better. Things were about to get started for real, and he needed to see what was going on in order to feed. He gestured for me to join him, but things started before I could get there. 

I saw the woman from the other night brush by me. "Dinner time, Sweetie," she smiled. She grabbed a man from behind. He was one of the students from my class.

She had far more than normal strength. She bent him backwards until his head was back, and his neck was exposed. She bit into his throat so hard that blood spurted straight up into the air like a geyser. 

She picked her spot well, as the crush of people covered what she was doing. His arms flailed as she drained the life from him. She drank her fill and then straightened him up. And pushed him deeper into the crowd where the crush of bodies kept him upright until he fell over. 

The drugged out kids kept dancing as he fell to the ground. They probably thought he was too high to stand up. It was the first time I ever saw someone murdered. Well okay ... I'd seen Agravon take the body he wore from the guy he became. And I saw him kill that woman he had sex with. But I guess I had thought that those were cases where he didn't really know what he was doing. It was like a puppy chewing up your sneakers.

At that point, I still thought of Agravon as mine somehow. But as I watched that woman, that ... Vampire skipping through the crowd, drinking her fill and murdering person after person, I realized that I had lost control over him. All the woman's friends were doing the same thing. 

And there were others. There were people who appeared to be human who were grabbing people and simply dragging them away in their drugged state. And above it all, above the drugs and fighting and murder and dancing, Agravon held court. He watched and swung his hands back and forth like a deranged conductor directing his symphony of death and Chaos. 

None of that was what I had planned. All I wanted was to have a friend or two to combat my loneliness and my feelings of being worthless. I didn't want to kill anyone. Things were just getting out of hand. 

And then it changed. Out of nowhere, I saw a huge woman with some kind of metal club that appeared to have spikes on it. 

Agravon saw her too. I think he thought at first that she was one of his people. He actually licked his lips at what she might do with that mace. She was focused on two big male vampires who were about literally to rip a thin, drugged out nerd in half between them. 

The big woman moved towards the vampires, brought her mace upwards, and then brought it down onto the arm of one of the vampires. He howled in surprise and pain as the spikes on the mace bit into and literally shredded his arm. He looked at her in surprise, but that was all he had time for? 

One, and then a second small missile like object buried themselves in the chest of the screaming vampire. Although the arrows or whatever they were had struck his chest, they hadn't hit his heart. 

But they were clearly treated with something special because his body began to burn from within. I looked back from where the vampire stood and saw another woman in head to toe white leather, including a hooded leather cloak that I would have died to wear just once. She held a white crossbow, and she had obviously fired the bolts that were killing the vampire. 

The big woman who had begun the attack was clad in green leather. Her outfit was exactly like the white leather her comrade wore. She menaced the second vampire, causing him to retreat. Unfortunately, this put him right in the path of the third leather-clad woman who wielded a small round shield and a roman gladius. 

She sliced at the vampire's head, shearing off a chunk of scalp and long dirty hair. The big woman moved back into range and crushed the creature's face with her huge mace. 

A second later the third woman, the sword wielding one in the maroon leather hacked at the creature's neck. A gout of vile smelling blood and a bleating cry of anguish was the result. As the vamp fell, the swordswoman took one more swipe of her short razor-like blade, and the vamp's head sprang free of its neck. 

I was so afraid that I pissed myself. The women in leather all wore crosses and holy emblems embossed on their leathers. The leather was thick and contained plates of what appeared to be padding or Kevlar over vital areas. 

They were obviously affiliated with a church or something, and they scared the living shit out of me. I hoped that they knew that I had nothing to do with the vampires. In my mind, I saw them hacking me to bits like some sort of Holy Roman Ginsu team. 

I looked to Agravon, and he was pissed. He was also clutching his chest, and he looked green. It was as if the Chaos that he'd planned and orchestrated gave him strength, but the counter attack by the leather women took his strength away. 




Ghost Games



The party downstairs was finally dying down. She lit a countless cigarette, listening through the study door. People were saying their drunken good-byes, their voices disappearing out of the front door. The night engulfed in smoke and mundane conversation was slowly fading out... She though it would never end!

There was silence, and after a short eternity – she heard him locking the door after the last guest. A few second later (tick... tick...) he walked into the study. Her heart fluttered, as it often did at the sight of him - and after a bit of red wine.

Without a glance, he walked over to the PC. She felt the familiar ball of anger building in her throat. A night filled with sexual innuendoes, going as far as him feeling her off under the table, unknown to the guest – and now she is left hot, bothered and angry. Yet she absolutely loved his profile illuminated by the cold glow of the screen. Unfair!

Finally he seemed to have noticed her, walked over and casually fondled her breasts with that beast amile. Still angry, she said

- So you think you can just walk in here and fuck me... Just like that?!

- I know you want me to – he purred

- And what if I say no?

A strange look formed in his eyes. He grabbed her wrists and said:

- I don't care. I am going to fuck you anyway.

He twisted her arms behind her back and pushed her into the bedroom. It was almost entirely dark. She couldn't see his face. At that point the fear kicked in.

He threw her onto the bed like a sack, leaving her breathless. As he slowly approached – she tried to escape him by rolling onto her side. He grabbed her and pulled her shirt up over her head, fastening the sleeves together. Her arms were now bound. As she tried to kick – he pressed her legs down with his weight, a hand around her throat.

- Now what are you gonna do, ha?

She remained silent, squirming under him, trying desperately to push him off. She was reminded, once again, of her small build, something she worked hard at maintaining and was proud of – except for in situations like this. It was terrifying how little difference her futile attempts at resistance made. He only laughed

.

- I am going to fuck you and there is nothing you can do – he growled

The rest of her clothes were instantly ripped off. She just lay there shivering in fear – she loved a sexual game as much as the next girl, and more, but by this stage she genuinely had no idea where this would go and admittedly felt exited at the thought.

She could not see him at all. She could only hearhis shoes drop to the floor – one, then another, a zipper being opened, and his footsteps approaching.

He was on top of her. She felt his unshaven face pressed into her breasts. She uttered a small moan – evidently that was all the invitation he needed.

Without further hesitation he shoved his cock inside her. She found it slipped in quite easily – her body was obviously getting some mixed signals. His cock was hard and thick, making her bite her bottom lip in a wave of pleasure.

He leaned over and whispered – his voice low and hoarse:

- You like that! I know you do!

She did... Wait, did she? Why? How could she be so weak, so engulfed in his brutal sexuality? Had she no self-respect?

It was then something inside her snapped. Above the fear and the pain from being thrown so hard was anger. She was pinned down, violated and helpless. But she was stronger than this, she thought. She would show him. She looked up at the man-shaped darkness and said:

- Is this it? Is this the fucking worst you can do? Is it?

It wasn't. 

Everything happened really fast. She felt herself flying across the bed, landing in that small space behind it. Her head bounced off the cupboard. Everything went white and blurry. This only got worse when his hands closed around her throat, pushing. Air and the surrounding darkness were fading out. Stay awake, stay awake – she thought.

She was half aware of the fact that he was inside her again, fucking her hard and fast.

- How do you like this, bitch?

Not hearing an answer he slapped her face a couple of times. Then he spat in it.. His spit stank of bad alcohol. It felt strangely exciting. Somehow she found herself laughing, with a terrifying realization that she was nearing an orgasm.

- You like this, ha?

She wasn't sure why, but she nodded. And he said

- Slut!

She thought afterwards that she may have passed out from lack of air by this stage, because she saw The Face. She had almost successfully erased it from memory, after all the years emotional detachment and self preservation that The face cost her. But there it was – a blinding flash of memory: She was a girl again. The man whose name she would never mention holds her by the throat, his permanently beer – flavored spit flying as he shouts "Slut!" Then she would be quiet like a mouse, hoping to hell to pass out before the beating began. Or worse yet – the sex. The unnatural, painful and dirty act of copulation he introduced her to. Yes, this man was her first lover... if you can call it that. 

No. Not today. He wasn't going to win today. She would laugh in the face of this unwanted ghost, sending him back into the realm of long-gone memories.

And laughing, she snapped back into the real world. Almost effortlessly she pushed her lover onto his back and climbed on top. She rode him hard and fast, digging her nails into his flesh. It didn't take long for both of them to explode into a wild orgasm with her screaming, laughing and crying. And him feeling grateful that they had no neighbors nearby. 

Afterwards everything was quiet. She lay on the far side of the bed, shivering and listening to the blood rushing in her ear drums. She had a million sensations flowing through her.

He crawled over to her and held her, saying: "Are you ok baby? I love you! I love you so much!"

She loved him too, especially now lying in his arms, with her memories chased completely out of reach.

And as the darkness of sleep descended upon her – for the first time in years it held no ghosts. 



Ghost Girl



I was the school loser, not so much because I was a geek, but because I was from a poor family and it was a well off school. I used to habitually hide in the library during recess and lunch, because I knew I was safe in there. As a result I pretty much had no relationships with girls at all. Those who tolerated me did so more out of pity than interest in me as a person. My parents were both alcoholics and fought constantly, so I used to hide in my room every night, lest I get mixed up in it and have to explain my bruises away to my teachers by saying that I had fallen out of a tree again trying to save my next door neighbours cat. I was a loner of the highest degree and I often used to cry myself to sleep. I was so alone that not even my parents bothered to show up at home for my 18th birthday. 

The first night of the end of my life was a Sunday night. I had watched some basketball on TV, then a movie and had gone to sleep. Some time after midnight I was sound asleep when I could feel myself getting harder, that was odd because I wasn't having a sex dream, in fact I wasn't dreaming at all. As it was summer and we couldn't afford an air-conditioner I was sleeping on my bed with all my blankets and sheets pulled back, and wearing only a pair of old worn boxers. I opened my eyes slowly; growing accustomed to the darkness and looked down at my dick. Sure enough it was erect and out of my boxers. I watched for a few minutes and saw nothing, yet it seemed like something soft was rubbing itself up and down my shaft. I thought I must have been dreaming until I saw a sparkle of light that looked like eyes. "What the hell!!" I exclaimed aloud, but not loud enough to wake my parents. As soon as I had said that the feeling stopped altogether and did not return that night. 

The next day was another painful day at school, one among many such similar days. I returned home as depressed as usual, skipped mom's horrid macaroni and cheese dinner and went to watch TV in my room on my old black and white set. I fell asleep with the TV on. Then soon after midnight I felt my dick get hard once again. It was exactly the same as last night. No dreams, no one there and my TV was turned off. Mom and dad never came into my room so this was beginning to freak me out. This time instead of feeling something soft on my dick I found something wet and it was moving around the head of my dick. I'd never been given oral sex, but I knew what it was and this sure seemed like it. So I lay back and watched my dick dance around of its own accord, it was a most eerie sight. I never saw who was doing it but it felt damn good. I had jerked myself off numerable times before so I knew I was about to come. And I did, shooting a wad of come all over my stomach, even though it felt like the wet object was still working on my dick. Then it stopped and I was left to clean myself up with some tissues. 

The next day was Tuesday, the third day of bliss. Or should I say third night of bliss, because the day at school sucked puss, as I was bashed by some school bullies and sent home early. Again I was asleep by midnight, and once again I was woke up to find my dick hard. This time something was different. There seemed to be a weight on my hips and my dick seemed to be coated in a tacky liquid, and was surrounded by moist warmth. Then the movement started. I couldn't believe it I was being raped. And more than likely being raped by a ghost. I felt some hands on my chest and decided to take a chance and reached out to touch them. I found that I could. I was sort of like touching the mist, not solid, but not air either. She was soft like I imagined a cloud to be. Knowing that it was a woman I decided to take an even bigger gamble and reached out for where her breasts should have been. And I found them. They were small and supple; I fondled them for a while until her wild gyrations on my dick caused me come violently. Again the come landed on my stomach. I could not believe it, I just had my cherry popped by a ghost. I must be crazy I thought. I fell asleep soon after my climax, but I do remember her tender kiss as I drifted off to never-never land. 

I didn't go to school the next day, couldn't be bothered it was a waste of time. Both my parents were away for the day and wouldn't be back till tomorrow. So I lounged around, drank some beer and slept and slept. Then as with al the other days I woke around midnight to feel my woman sucking my dick again, this time I could feel something over me, so I reached up and felt around. It was her pussy. So I reached out for her hips and found them. I pulled her down to me and began to eat out my first woman, who just happened to be a ghost. I could feel her moistness and the tickle of her pubic hair on my bare chin. I eagerly lapped at her invisible pussy. It must have been doing something as I heard her moaning loudly. It was a good thing that mom and dad weren't home; they would have heard that for sure. Eventually I brought her to a climax and she came all over my face, then she brought me to mine and I came all over my stomach, yet again. I needed to get clean, so I decided to have a bath. Consequently, I was sitting there naked, spent after my last sexual encounter with the ghost, in the bath full of boiling hot water. I wanted to see her, to know who it was that I was making love to. So I called out "Show yourself. If you love me show yourself." I said. I didn't expect an answer and was shocked when I saw the apparition reveal herself. She was naked and beautiful, and looked to be a little older than me, making her around 20. 

Then she spoke in a wispy ethereal voice, "Alan, Alan. Come to me. Be with me and we will make love forever. Alan come." She finished by pointing to dad's cutthroat razor. I picked it up and stared at it for a long while, then I looked at her, the only person who really loved me was a ghost, and if I needed to be dead to be with her then so be it. So I drew the razor across both wrists, opening up the major artery. Blood flowed in a river from my exposed wrists that I had placed under the hot water of the bath. 

Then I asked her as my life started to ebb away, "Who are you? What is your name? And how did you know my name." 

The pain, the anguish was subsiding, I was feeling blissful when she eventually answered me. "My name is Sophie." She paused for a moment, then continued, "And I am your older sister." 

I started screaming hysterically, but the damage had been done and I soon slipped into oblivion forever. What awaited me on the other side I did not know. 

THE END 



Ghost House



I received the life insurance payments last year.

My wife had died, struck down by a drunk driver. I'm not sure how I was able to continue living those nine months, but I know that the struggle was on breathing and moving and trying to avoid the crushing grief that welled up in pitiful sobs that made the struggle to breathe even more difficult.

We had maintained double policies on each of us as a plan for either of us to be self-sufficient in the event the other died. Some people might think three-quarters of a million dollars worth getting rid of your spouse, but for us, this was a matter of family concern. Sure, the expense took a good portion of what we would have saved, but the payoff gave me the bitter present of affording what we had dreamed of, together.

We had wanted to retire to a forgotten town where the real estate was cheap and the people few. Many people dream of big things; we dreamt of comfort and relaxation. Annette had agreed that a dying town would give us the peace and quiet that the big city never could. So with a full bank account, I went to fulfill our dreams.

Really, I think I came here to die.

The real estate lady was pleasant, and murmured her apologies for my loss. She showed me several homes that could not raise my interest. I didn't care for the small-town interest in the oak fad that had gone out of style in the early 1980s. I was shown a few homes where she bubbled over with high expectations, twirling in the living room and presenting me a view of an entertainment center.

Was I supposed to be impressed with someone else's particle-board laminated piece of furniture?

Out of frustration, I settled on a narrow two-story house that was overgrown with vegetation. Well, maybe I didn't settle. This house I sit in right now is what Annette would have picked, I am sure. Would she have considered it our dream house? No, not at all, but with what there was to choose from, this would have been it.

The first time I saw the house, pulling up in the agent's car, I was drawn to its loneliness. While there were houses on either side, the vegetation choked it so that only a small path through the waist-high iron gate allowed access. It was old; all the houses here are old. But I saw a kinship with my soul that had me choosing the house before I stepped foot in it. I know that sounds like something meant for a tale, but it's true, that's how it happened.

A funny smell assaulted me when I entered. A sickly sweet smell that reminded me of natural gas or very old pet stains. It was laid out in a jumble, not like the newer homes built in subdivisions where the floor plan has been survey-tested by a million people. Of course, in 1910, I doubt anyone took surveys on where they wanted their bedrooms.

The second floor held two bedrooms that I would never use. Fortunately, there was a door to the second floor stairwell that looked like a closet. I went up there when I bought the place. The door has remained closed, since. 

The furnace and water heater were down in the basement. I did not like the basement.

My aversion to it wasn't due to any safety issue. The basement was fully enclosed with no exterior exits or windows. No, what I didn't like about it was what was down there. A clump of soiled sheets were left in one corner of the main basement. Back around the stairs was a wooden wall separating a small portion of the basement with a crude door set in the center. Don't ask me why there is a crude door on a strange wooden wall down in my basement. I couldn't tell you.

There is a latch on the wooden door and on first glance I got the impression it was meant to keep someone in. In that small room is a square iron door, about three feet off the ground, set into the cement of the back wall. It reminded me of an old furnace door, or the hatch to a crypt. The door was about the size of a coffin. I especially didn't like that door. The brainless agent just walked right up to it and opened it. The rusty squeal hurt my ears but I moved forward to see inside.

Apparently, someone had used it to burn something. Ashes filled the bottom of the crawl space. I did not like it. Just looking into the darkness of that space made me dizzy. I turned away and made my way up the stairs.

I knew that I would not be using the basement, so the strange area would not have to concern me. I took the house.

That was three months ago. Now, more than ever, I feel I am here to die.

My neighbors are old or quiet. During the daylight hours, I occasionally hear the sounds of life outside, and I am encouraged that mankind is the pinnacle of the food chain. I comfort myself with the knowledge that science explains everything and that smart-looking eggheads tell me on TV with a wag of their heads that there are no such things as ghosts. Yes, during the daylight, I am sure nothing hides in the shadows of my home.

The movers brought our belongings and stacked them around the house. I left the boxes where they were first set. I only dig into them if I need something. The memories of her things assault me in ways I cannot deal with. All I cared about was setting up my computer and TV. During the day I try to forget my grief by doing things on the computer. The TV is a disappointment here. Even with cable, there is some kind of interference that distorts the picture. It appears to me as if another channel is coming through behind whatever channel I'm on. Reminds me of a bad antenna. It's really bad at night. I can see shapes of people coming through and it distracts me from what I'm watching.

At first I was leaving the TV on because I started having nightmares, but after a few times waking up in a panic, I started turning off the TV before I tried to go to sleep. The last few times it appeared as if someone was close up on the screen and looking at me in that channel behind the cable feed. It was very unnerving.

My nightmares were another story.

Maybe some other person wouldn't call these nightmares. I remember the first one, clearly. I was almost asleep, and beginning to wander in those random thoughts and visions that are typical just before total sleep. The air was cool in the bedroom and the TV was off. A tiny shred of light came from the street lamp outside. How it got through all the vegetation and the cheap blinds, I don't know.

I felt her then. A woman. I wasn't sure I was seeing her or dreaming her, but she had very dark hair, curly and soft. For a brief second, I thought it was Annette. But Annette had been short and skinny. This woman was tall. Her curves oozed sensuality. She was wearing a black lace bra and panties. She wore black stockings supported by black garters. She leaned close over me and my nostrils filled with her scent. Jasmine, yes. Sometimes I think lilac, but it was definitely jasmine.

As she leaned over me, I moaned and turned slightly. I wanted to feel her. Annette melted from my mind and an ache grew within me that spoke of forgotten longing. My arms wanted to reach up. My back began to arch, and then I awoke. To nothing. The tears came then and I think I was at my closest to death. The misery was so sharp and painful that death would certainly have been a release.

There was nothing left for me. I had nothing to look forward to. We had not had time to have children, and living here pretending to be fulfilling our dreams was the cruelest of jokes. We thought we had been smart having those double life policies on each other, but we had been fools.

By day, as days turned into weeks, I would sit at my computer, scanning the news, reading about history and science. I would watch the day dim from my seat through the one window with the open blinds. Even the open blinds were a cruel joke in this house. I could let the light in all I wanted, but the windows couldn't be opened. Over the decades, people had painted so many coats of paint that not a single window in the house would open. All I could let in was the light. But even that didn't last.

Every day I would sit and experience the loss of light, until I was sitting in the dark. The only light came from my monitor. Then the house was all shadow. At least the front room also took light from the streetlamp outside, more so than the bedroom next to it behind all the vegetation. 

At night, when it was dark, I would hear things. Usually, these would be outdoor sounds. I kept hearing someone walking outside my front door on the porch. But when I would look, no one would be there. Science tells me that such noises must have been the contraction of the porch as the cool settled in for the night. Same with the wall heater behind me. Strange noises would filter up through the heater from the basement, but I know that can all be explained away, too. At least I never heard noises from the second floor. Science could even explain the bizarre occurrences with my TV each night. Without any warning, my TV would turn itself on every night at 2:27 am. Surely, someone was just getting home from a bar and sitting down to turn on the TV across the street or something. My TV was obviously on the same frequency. Of course, the house across the street was vacant, and had been unlived in for years. Someone had a super remote, somewhere.

My nightmares became disturbing and frequent, but I would forget most of them each time. When I was having them, though, I would remember. She would come to me after I had gotten into bed and started to drift off. I learned to wait until 2:30am before going to bed. I would go into the bedroom, turn off the TV with the strange second-channel apparitions looking at me, and settle down to sleep. No use going to bed before 2:27 when the TV would pop on with static and noise.

She would come in as I tossed fitfully. I would kick at the sheets and push at my pillow. I would feel the bed sink at my feet and I would grow still. I knew better than to waste my time to turn on the light - no one would be there. But the bed would shift and move as if someone - her - was climbing over me. Sometimes I would see her in her black lingerie. Sometimes I could smell her jasmine fragrance. Each time, I would sigh and feel the stir of an erection. My thighs would clench with an aching need and her perfume would make me dizzy and delirious. 

The first time was wonderful. She pulled back the sheets and pulled my underwear down. Her mouth was cool velvet as she slid her lips down my aching member. My moans grew feverish as she worked my erection with the most sensual blowjob I have ever had. The feel of her tongue and the cool air on the wet parts of my shaft ran tickles of lust up and down my extremities. Her hair brushed my thighs and my gasps became labored.

But each time after that, I would become filled, not with passion and the need to cum, but with dread.

The anniversary of Annette's death was nothing to be celebrated. All day long I cried. I finally unpacked her picture and set it on the box next to my bed. Exhausted, I went to bed early and was awakened at 2:27 by the TV. I awoke in terror of some unseen thing, but realized it was the stupid TV. I fumbled for the remote and tried to hit the power button. For some reason, I kept hitting the volume. The static hiss rose and rose as I frantically mashed the power button. With a curse, I got out of bed and went to turn on the light.

Turning back to the TV with the remote firmly in hand and my finger on the red power button, I froze. There was a face looking at me in that channel distortion. It filled the screen. I noted that I could see eyes, this time, before my finger bruised itself on the power button. Adrenaline pumped through me and sweat broke out on my face.

I went into the small bathroom and washed my face to calm myself. I looked pretty bad in the mirror. Back in the bedroom, I gave one small fleeting glance at Annette's picture on the box by the bed. It was enough to cause me to double over in grief. The grief had lessened over time, but sometimes it came back, really hard. Tonight was bad.

Back in bed, I started to drift off again. But a sense of longing and dread filled me as the scent of jasmine filled my nose. The foot of the bed sunk and I moaned in need. Reaching blindly, I flung back the sheets to reveal my nakedness. I had stopped wearing underwear to bed a few weeks back. Her mouth descended on my throbbing shaft and I moaned in relief. Up and down, her head moved over my aching shaft, bringing pleasure and increasing the frustration within me.

Without conscious thought, I realized I had reached over and placed Annette's picture face down.

The woman in black lingerie removed her mouth and shifted around on the bed. Something black and lacy hung in front of my face. Her panties. I moaned in encouragement as she positioned herself over me. I could see her very feminine hips and her naked vagina poised over my straining shaft. I wanted to sink it into her so bad, to feel her warmth and to shoot my sperm deep into her. My hands reached for her hips. I could feel her soft skin and the garters.

Her hips lowered until I felt her wetness touch the head of my penis. She teased me there, for a moment, until I was moaning loudly in the darkness. I wanted to fuck her so bad. I wanted to feel what I had been missing this past year. With a deliberate push downwards, the woman sank herself onto my painful erection. Her heat burned down onto me as she fucked downwards.

A loud cry escaped me that was a mixture of pleasure and grief. Tears streamed down the sides of my head as the woman seemed to know exactly how to screw to please me. Her vaginal canal was hot and welcoming. It gripped my penis perfectly from top to bottom and milked it with convulsing spasms. She went from tip to root in eager motions. I could not believe how deep I was getting.

My orgasm built like the ascent of a roller coaster - slow, but powerful. I remembered my orgasms being faster in the build-up. This was agonizing. It kept building and building, the pressure on my insides getting worse by the second. The need to blast my sperm into her almost made me physically ill. She mashed her pussy down over my penis and her inner canal started making milking motions. The tickle to cum became pain and my breathing became labored. Spots swam before my eyes and then the sperm exploded out of me and deep into her. I could feel the long squirts as convulsions swept over me. I teetered on the edge of what I don't know as my orgasm and ejaculation continued until my balls literally hurt with the act of pushing sperm.

I was drained, spent, wasted. I felt as if my limbs were made of lead. But the woman wasn't done. she pulled off and knelt over me, her mouth descending on my numb member. My world was spinning and I felt as if I were off-balance. She stroked her mouth over me a few times, and then I felt something I had never felt from her. Her teeth raked my shaft and sent shivers up my body. But then, needle-like teeth sank into my penis and pain ripped through me.

With a shriek of pain, I leapt out of bed. The sound of rustling leather swept from the bed and I heard a strange giggle. I ignored all that. I was in the bathroom, quivering in pain. I flicked on the light and looked down to see a bloody mess. There were holes around the middle of my shaft, oozing blood.

"No!" This couldn't be happening. Not the way I thought. I had done this to myself, surely. I had masturbated myself and then dug holes with my fingernails. Happens all the time on those shows where science debunks these kinds of things. I looked at my hand; it was bloody. So I had done it to myself.

But then I saw that my fingernails had no blood in them.

"Must be psychosomatic," I told myself, mimicking the scientist debunkers.

A sound drifted up from the vent in the bathroom that sent chills up my spine. A giggle, then a metallic squeal, followed by a firm clanging sound.

Dread filled me. The only thing that could make that sound was the weird iron door in the basement.

"No way," I said in a shaking voice. "No way!"

I walked on unsteady legs into the bedroom.

"No way!" I shouted. Anger lapped at the edges of the fear. I could not accept what I knew to be unreal. I shrugged into my pants as fast as I could, but gingerly when it came to covering my bloody penis.

I went from room to room turning on all the lights. The house was empty except for me and the boxes. My anger grew and my certainty that my minds was at fault. I knew I had to face my fear.

"There's nothing here." I approached the door to the basement. "Nothing."

I unlatched the door and looked down the steps as the fear welled back up inside me. The only way to defeat the fear was to expose it, face it, and realize it was all in my mind. I had to do this.

Despite the waves of fear coming at me, I firmly stepped down the stairs. I almost ran down them. My skin crawled as I called out to the basement, "there is nothing here!"

At the foot of the stairs, I reached up and pulled the light string. Light pushed at the darkness in the basement. I repeated my claim with a gasping voice. The light swung above me. The only thing down here was the discarded sheet in the corner.

I walked over to it in anger and kicked it several times. I pulled at it with my foot and scraped it away from the wall.

"See? Nothing here!" I gritted through clenched teeth. The sheet was old and soiled. Curious brown stains blotted it in areas.

Blood?

A tapping behind me turned me around. The heater? I was facing the strange wooden door. It was closed. I did not remember ever closing it. Panic welled back up in me in a constant fight against my anger. Spots swam before my eyes. I was having trouble breathing.

No! I was going to show myself there was no reason to fear. There were no ghosts in this house; I didn't believe in them. Science had proven them to be phoney, over and over again. I strode to the wooden door and flung it open as I repeated to myself in a loud voice that nothing was there.

The room was empty, except for the iron door.

"See?" I asked myself as my scalp literally crawled. "Nothing."

Yet the fear still assaulted me as I knew I would have to open the iron door to finish it. I forced myself forward. Laughter wanted to bubble out of me. I was on the edge of hysteria.

"Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!" I wheezed as fear choked my throat. My vision pulsed with the racing of my heart. I hauled on the iron door and pulled it open on protesting hinges.

My eyes rolled in my head as I thrust my head into the opening and croaked, "nothing!"

Only ashes lay in that space. The darkness in the back seemed to laugh at me. The fear was not gone. The light couldn't reach far enough to expose the back wall, but I could see it dimly. To touch that wall would mean I had reached the limit of my fear and confronted it. I would know then that there was truly nothing here but unfounded fear. I clambered up into the hole, trying to scream, trying to breathe, desperate to end this. Ashes puffed up as I crawled. I reached a hand to the wall and I could feel something all around me.

My hand made contact with that shadowed wall. "Nothing..."

The iron door slammed shut with inhuman force and darkness smothered me.