4 comments/ 14129 views/ 9 favorites The Presence By: Cndrlla69 My name is Renee Dubois. I am a romance author. To be more precise, I write erotic paranormal fiction. My stories are full of werewolves, vampires, witches, wizards, ghosts, and, of course, sex. I am often asked if I believe in all the things I write about like magic, creatures of the night, and premonition. My answer? I absolutely do not. I also get, do you write from your own experience? I honestly told people never ever do I. And I never expected to, until now. I do not believe that dreams can come true, that they can forecast the future, and I never dream of sex. Last night, however, whether it was the chocolate covered strawberries I had been eating before bed, the throbbing Celtic music that I had left playing, or the jasmine incense that scented my bedroom, I don't know, but my dream was so vivid that I felt compelled to write it down before I might forget the details. At present, I am sequestered at my favorite nudist resort, Crystal Palms, for the month of October in order to achieve the privacy and focus to finish my latest book. The end of the month is in sight but I have gotten a lot of work done. I should make my goal of finishing before the big Halloween Ball here. I always think and write better when I visit this place, it feels comfortable. People leave me alone for the most part. I take my laptop with me everywhere I go, I even write at the pool under a cabana. Today I don't have my laptop but grabbed my journal instead as this bit of writing is personal, just for me. Journal Entry, October 17 My Dream Last Night I was standing nude in the center of a gazebo. The full moon shone down and I must have been near water because although I could not see the source, I could hear waves lapping and smell the scent of water. Fireflies dance and flitted about the posts of the gazebo casting a warm glow on the red wood. There were panels of white gauze strung about which were gently blowing in the breeze. I was alone, then, suddenly, I was not alone. I could not see anyone there. I could only feel a presence close by me, a closeness that would normally have made me uncomfortable. This time I felt comforted. I will call the presence He because the events that followed led me to believe it would have been a Him. He leaned in close and I felt the cool wispy lips caressing mine. Then I felt cold hands upon my arms, running from my shoulders to my wrists and back again, raising gooseflesh with the chill of it and bringing all my nerves to life. The mouth kissing me moved to my neck to suck gently and then down farther until I could feel licking and sucking at my breasts and nipples. They tautened so hard that they hurt but the pain was pleasurable. The hands, which had moved to caress my back, lowered now to fondle my ass. The squeezing hands pulled my cheeks apart and I felt one finger swirling around my puckered hole. I moaned at the sensations sweeping through me as the mouth continued its journey down my body and the hands continued to fondle my rear. I felt pressure upon my legs and I spread them in response to the unspoken directive. His mouth was now discovering my clit and I could feel the coolness of fingers entering my pussy. One hand remained at my ass and I felt a finger entering there. I was being sucked and double penetrated by a presence I could not even identify and I was getting off on it. In less than a minute I was in the midst of a strong orgasm. It swept through me radiating from my pussy and ass throughout my entire body. My pussy was drenched with juices as He continued to suck at my clit. In less time than I desired, I came down from my high. Then, He was gone. The presence simply disappeared, evaporated if you will. I was left with a lonely feeling, emptiness; such as I have rarely felt. I was instantly awake. Awake and confused that is. My nipples were turgid and my pussy was damp. My lips were even swollen. It had been a dream...right? As I finished writing down my memories, I was even more confused than I had been last night. Had I teased myself into having an orgasm in my dreams? And why had everything seemed cool, not warm? Those kinds of things didn't happen to me. Well, enough of that, it was written down, maybe I could use that dream in a book one day. I closed my journal, determined to be finished working for now. I got up from my chair and stretched feeling the gentle breeze on my naked flesh and I stepped out into the sun. It was later in the afternoon on a weekday so there were few people lingering to enjoy the remainder of the day. I slipped into the pool and floated quietly focusing my thoughts on the story I was supposed to be writing and not some stupid dream. The dream, however, kept invading my thoughts so I gave up. I gathered my things and headed back to my room. I was determined to distract myself. I needed to break from my typical everyday routine in order to break my chain of thought. I figured a night out might work. I slipped on a dressy white cover up that was filmy and billowed as I walked and grabbed a towel and my net book. A can of soup or grilled cheese sandwich would just not do. I headed to the fancier indoor restaurant here. Maybe a nice candlelight dinner and a drink would work. Upon entering, I chose a seat outside upon the balcony. I nodded politely to the one other couple seated here. I gave my order and was quickly served. As I ate, I opened my computer and began typing at the same time. I vaguely noted the couple leaving. I eventually convinced my waitress that I didn't need anything else and she left me alone to my work. I finished the chapter I had been agonizing over and sat back quite satisfied with myself for the evening. It was then I began noticing things. The cords of white lights that hung from the wood beams surrounding the balcony reflected warmly against the redwood. I could hear the water in the lake lapping gently at the shore. I got up and wandered to the rail, my gauzy white cover up blowing in the gentle breeze. There were too many odd similarities to my dream to leave me in a peaceful state of mind. I felt a chill down my spine; an eerie feeling crept over me. As I gazed into the darkness I could make out what seemed like a haze, a cloud, in one spot. I blinked, shocked, as it almost seemed to move toward me. Then it was gone. I felt alone, bereft, until I felt cool air, as if a cold breath, upon my neck. Unthinking, I tilted my head to the side. The feeling of chill increased, then the pressure as of lips kissing my pulse point. A sucking sensation pulling at my skin caused my eyes to close and my body to tingle. What was happening to me? Was I going insane? I felt a touch at my shoulders, a squeeze of reassurance. Then His cool hands, for they were hands, trailed down my arms to my wrists and up under my top to cup my breasts. The cold sensations of sucking at earlobe and neck, and caressing and tweaking of my nipples, were so different, so erotically chill that they caused my pussy to flood. I wanted sex; I wanted it now. I turned. All sensation stopped. No one was there. What? I turned back toward the dark night and sensations once again flooded me. The cold hands were fondling my ass, pulling my cheeks apart and lips were kissing me there. I could feel myself penetrated by his cool tongue. Just as I could take no more, my legs were pulled apart and I felt myself pushed down against the railing. I was entered roughly from behind in a single cold thrust but I was so wet and needy that I simply met it with a thrust backward of my own. I felt His hands upon my hips and He thrust deeply into my pussy, hard and forceful. I could feel His thighs brushing my own and His balls swinging forward to bang against my needy clit. I needed to cum. I was so close. I squeezed His cock tightly inside my pussy, holding on for dear life. One of His hands came to my clit and with a tweak I was soaring on ecstasy. I groaned as my warm pussy flooded over His cold cock, and then I felt coolness as He came in me, his cum as chill as the rest of him. My limbs were shaking and twitching. I was filled. As I still leaned over the railing, I felt His cock slide out of me. I felt those cool lips upon my neck once more. A breath of possibly imagined sound, a name, "My Jacqueline," said a deep male voice. Then the presence was gone. I knew He was gone, just as I knew this had been real. I could feel His cold cum dripping from my drenched pussy. On sex-weakened limbs, I made my way back to my table just as the waitress reappeared. I was told it was closing time. I began gathering my things and, after paying, made my way slowly through the darkened resort to my room. I had much to think about. Especially that my name is not just Renee Dubois as the world knows me. My whole name is Jacqueline Renee Dubois. I got little work done in the next few days, as my mind could not remain off the presence for long. I spent hours, instead, working out in the small gym, swimming, and walking the resort hoping that physical activity would relieve my need for sexual satisfaction such as the presence had caused me to experience. I missed Him. How could I miss a disembodied, nonexistent presence? I had finally convinced myself that I had dreamed or made up the whole thing in response to the stress of my deadline when I happened to overhear a conversation that was not intended for my ears. I was in the small boutique near the pool area browsing the racks of resort wear. I had been there quietly looking for quite a while enjoying the filmy printed cover-ups and the sexy, barely there outfits. The two ladies working there must have forgotten all about me and were comfortable speaking openly. "So, have there been any reports yet this year?" asked Lady 1. "No, not that I've heard of," responded Lady 2. "Usually by now some woman has complained of something. It is October after all. That's when this always happens." "Do you believe them? All those crazy reports of being touched and feeling watched but seeing no one can't be true." "But every year? Every October it's the same thing. Some lady comes in the office with some crazy report. Remember last year? That lady even said that she saw a mist and that it followed her." "Do you think that it really is a ghost?" "Could be. Who knows? This place hasn't always been a nudist resort you know, and it has been in the same family for over 150 years. How they've held on to it I don't know, but there were rumors of a tragedy back at the time just around the Civil War. And if there really is a ghost haunting the place every October Mr. Crystle isn't going to want that broadcast far and wide. Would make folks not want to come to the Halloween Ball." "Bet there are clues somewhere, records of reports, maybe a record of that tragedy. I bet out at the big house where Thomas Crystle stays when he's here." I was so distracted eavesdropping upon the clerks that I bumped into a rack of sunhats knocking many to the floor. The conversation immediately stopped and Lady 1 hurried over to help me restore the hats to their proper places. "Are you all right dear?" she asked me. "Oh, yes," I answered. "I'm fine. Sorry about my clumsiness." "No problem dear. Can I help you with anything?" "No, no thank you. I have to be going actually, but I may be back tomorrow for that little blue outfit on the rack over there!" I stated pointing to a see through pants and crop top set I had been admiring. My comment successfully distracted the saleslady and I made my escape into the sunshine. My mind was whirling and I was already making plans. The researcher in me was coming to life with a passion. I was not the first one to have odd experiences here, and every October? Forgetting that I did not believe in such things, I quickly made my way back to my room and my computer, mentally jotting down a list as I went. 1) Surf internet - Mr. Crystle, Crystal Palms, and ghosts 2) Trip to local library - research local ghost stories and local legends from Civil War 3) Visit resort Office - hit up chatty, gossipy ladies there for information 4) Get into the "Big House" somehow!! For the rest of the evening and most of the next day I worked on steps one and two. Neither resulted in much information. Whatever the secret was, it was well guarded. I was looking forward to step three. Tomorrow I would stop in at the office. I loved to visit with the three ladies who usually worked days there. The three had read my books and were always eager to discuss all kinds of things with me. If I let them think I was researching for a new book I was sure they would open up like flowers in the sun. As I lay upon my bed that night unable to sleep I thought about the presence. I longed for Him to return to me, to touch me again. How could I, a confirmed skeptic, feel such desire for a non-entity? How could someone not real bring me to such pleasure? My nerves were firing throughout my body. I was completely sexually frustrated. It was time to take action. I got up from my bed and rifled through my suitcase till I found what I needed. Returning quickly, I opened my laptop and surfed my favorite porn site until I found a clip I liked. Watching two hot naked bodies fucking like bunnies, I propped up my knees, spread my legs, and began stroking my clit. I was very wet and ready. I slipped three fingers inside as deeply as I could as the man on the screen plunged his cock deeply into her pussy. I was throbbing and needed more. I needed to cum. Reaching out, I retrieved what I had gotten out of my suitcase, my purple monster. I grinned as I looked at the huge purple vibrator, nine inches long, two inches wide, and very powerful. Without lube, I was wet enough to not need any, I eased it inside while it was still on a low speed. It slowly filled me up, filled my need. Once it was in to the hilt, I turned up the volume. It touched me everywhere inside, buzzing sweetly. I eased it out and began thrusting it into my straining body over and over. While one hand controlled the monster my other hand was stroking my clit. My head fell back, my eyes closed and I moaned. It didn't take long as I reached a peak. With the monster deep inside, I gripped it with my inner muscles as hard as I could and flew to pieces. Knowing the walls were thin I kept it to a moan as jolts shot from my pussy up my spine and out my limbs. I stiffened my body holding on to the feelings as long as I could. I descended slowly and removed the monster from my pussy. It was drenched in my juices. Feeling extremely naughty, I lifted the tip to my lips stroking it with my tongue. Sex had a smell and a taste and I enjoyed both. I swung my legs over the side of the bed still licking at the vibrator as I glanced up into the corner of my room. A haze hung there, a distinct body shaped haze! What the hell? The fucking ghost had been watching me? Was this ghost a pervert? Pissed now, I got up and walked straight toward the haze. It evaporated as I approached. "Yeah, you'd better run," I called out shaking my fist at it. I stomped to the bathroom to clean up my toy then stowed it back in my luggage. After shutting down my computer which was still streaming porn I was definitely not in the mood for now, I lay back down on the bed knowing I would never sleep tonight. The next day took forever to get there. It was worth the wait though. I chatted comfortably with the three old sweeties for nearly two hours and came away with a notebook, a fountain of information, and an invitation to visit the Big House the next day with the housekeeper as my personal tour guide. I reviewed my notes as I sat alone near the pool. The land had been in the Crystle family since soon after the American Revolution. There had been a typically gigantic plantation home here. The "Big House" being referred to was the only remaining wing of the original structure, the rest having been burned after the Civil War. The ghost stories had been prevalent since the early 50's at least. For the past ten years or so different reports that had been received had been recorded in the notebook now in my possession. One of the ladies had been fond of the real life ghost dramas on TV and had followed recommendations to write down the stories in detail as they were received. It was believed that the ghost was the spirit of Thomas Crystle, Thomas being a family name that was still being passed down to this generation. Thomas, the older of two brothers, had gone off during the Civil War to fight for the North instead of fighting for the South. He had fallen on a battlefield far from home. His brother who had fought for the South had inherited the property, married a neighbor's daughter and named his son Thomas in honor of his brother. As I flipped through the notebook I realized that it was true, all the reports took place during October and women had all the sightings or experiences. A horny ghost? Well, a nudist resort was a good place for one I guessed. Another question popped into my mind. Why had the ghost never "approached" me before? Wait. Had I ever been here at this time of year? I thought back over my visits. No, I realized I hadn't. Most of my visits were in the spring and summer with an odd visit at Christmas/New Year. So, if the ghost only presented during October... What in the world was going on here and why had the ghost seemingly singled me out this year? Answers would not come till at the earliest tomorrow. After a quick dinner of a grilled cheese with a glass of white wine I tried unsuccessfully to work on my book. I could not keep my mind on my work. My thoughts kept wandering to Thomas. To die far from home fighting for what you believed in even though it went against your upbringing? Harsh. If Thomas was the presence, the ghost, what had happened to hold him here? Why hadn't he passed on? I couldn't believe it. I was thinking like I was a character in one of my books and all the things I'd written about over the years were possible. This was ridiculous. I needed a good dose of reality. I needed to get out of my little room. I threw a towel over my shoulders and, in nothing more than flip-flops, headed out and down the path that led to the little beach. I walked a bit. It was a beautiful night, not too hot, not too cold. The cloudless sky allowed the moon to reflect off the water of the lake. I took a deep breath. I loved the smell of the water. I had always lived near water until my job had forced me to relocate to the big city. I hated it there. I loved it here. Although I was working and on a deadline, I felt freer here than anywhere, almost like I belonged here. I threw my towel on a chaise lounge and flopped down, completely relaxed, thinking on my ghost. My ghost? I had officially lost my mind. Then I saw it, the mist, the same as the other night, out over the water of the lake. I stood up trying to get a better look. It was coming closer, directly toward me. As it came up the beach, it began to coalesce, to take a vague shape. As with the other night, I could not make out details, but it was the form of a man. As it came closer, it became clearer, but all I could tell for sure was that He was over six feet tall and wearing some type of uniform and fancy hat. Hmm, Thomas had fought in the Northern Calvary in the war. "Thomas?" I asked hesitantly. If I had lost my mind I might as well take it and run with it. The figure nodded. Feeling faint I asked, "Was that you with me those other nights?" Thomas nodded once more. I guess yes and no questions only tonight. Feeling snarky I asked, "Was it as good for you as it was for me?" I could make out a definite grin as he nodded once more. "Damn it Thomas! Why me? Why are you here?" He looked puzzled for a moment then pointed down the beach. I could see an image. It was Thomas in a hot embrace with a beautiful woman. An unreasonable jolt of jealousy rippled through me. The Presence "You and her? You loved her?" I asked. Thomas looked sad. He nodded as he started to dissolve into mist once more. "But what happened?" I asked desperately. I needed to know like I had needed nothing before. As even the mist faded I heard his voice for the second time, "Tomorrow, Jacqueline." I woke with the dawn, completely unrefreshed but revved up and ready to go. Unfortunately, my appointment with the housekeeper was not until noon. I decided on two workouts after a quick breakfast. I grabbed my computer and headed to the gym. First a workout for my body as I did an hour of weights and stationary bike, then I jumped into a quick shower and swam laps for another half hour. Afterwards, a workout for my brain as I booted up my computer under a cabana and proceeded to loose myself in my work. I was nearing the end of the book. It would be another cliffhanger, but then my readers expected raw fingernails from reading my books and having to hang on until the next one. I was giving myself an imaginary pat on the back when prickles crawled up my spine. A feeling of being watched washed over me. Lord I was getting tired of this mystical crap. Why did I write this stuff? It was creepy! I looked around without being obvious. My eyes were drawn to the gym and I froze, caught in a warm gaze. My first thought was "Thomas?" but I had only ever seen my ghost at night. My second thought was "Wow! Hot!" but I had only ever seen Thomas clothed, this man was damn fine and totally naked. Determined to confront this man, who had obviously been watching me, and who must be a live man and not a ghost as I first thought, I began grabbing up my computer. By the time I made it inside the door of the gym he was gone. Crap. I checked my watch. Double Crap. I realized that once again time had escaped me. I would have to book it to make my appointment. In record time I made it to my room to deposit my things and change. I was on my way to the Big House dressed in a fancy caftan cover up that I felt was more appropriate for this visit than showing up naked or completely clothed. The directions I had been given took me down a narrow path. Mr. Crystle obviously wanted to keep his private life separate from the resort life. The path opened upon a beautiful white structure with graceful columns sweeping to the second floor and supporting a wrap around balcony. In all my years coming to Crystal Palms, I had never imagined this was tucked away back here. I was overwhelmed by the grandiosity and immensity of the structure, which was only a small part of what it had originally been, and just stood with my mouth agape. "Are you Ms. Dubois?" came a voice startling me from my awe. "Um, oh yes," I stuttered, blinking in the sun at the lady coming toward me. I hated being caught unaware. She was sweet, the epitome of the little old lady caretaker short and plump with black hair streaked with white twisted up into a fat bun atop her head, and wearing an apron over a smart gray dress. She led me through the door she had approached from. It led to a kitchen that was filled with delicious aromas. We chatted amiably as she pulled some tins of pumpkin spice muffins from the oven. After they had cooled some we each had one with a mug of spiced cider. She told me some things about the present Thomas Crystle that I hadn't known. He was an only child, unmarried, traveled extensively, and most importantly, was presently at home. Hmm. Maybe I could hit him up for information too? She knew much of the history of the house since the World War II era and was current on the ghost rumors but her knowledge of Civil War history of the family was sparse. She did, however, know where the family journals were kept and would gladly allow me access to them. Oh and, would I sign her copies of my books? She took me on a tour of the house, which was quite amazing. It was filled with period furniture all in pristine condition. The upstairs hall was lined with family portraits that spanned hundreds of years. As we walked and she talked, my eyes were caught by one of the paintings. It looked like the man I caught staring at me earlier! "Who is this?" I asked. "Oh my," she twittered, "that's Thomas Crystle, or at least one of them," she laughed. "This is the Thomas that is the ghost you are asking after. He died in the War Between the States. It was so very sad. The story goes that the last news he heard from home was that his sweetheart married his brother and was pregnant with his brother's child. These next portraits are his brother and the girl. Oh, drat, I can't remember her name now. You know dear, she looks a bit like you. With your hair a bit longer, I think you could pass for each other." We moved on and she showed me some more of the rooms, but the face of that girl haunted my mind. She was definitely the woman Thomas had shown me on the beach last night and she did look like me. It had been like looking in a mirror of when I had been ten years younger, that is, if I had been dressed up for Halloween. Hmmm, that gave me an idea. "Stay here dear," the housekeeper was telling me. "I'll just go and gather up the journals that would interest you. It might take a bit, but I'll be back soon. Don't fret." "Wait, what's this room?" I asked. We were standing outside the only room she hadn't shown me. "Oh, sweetheart, that's Mr. Crystle's room. We won't go in there. I don't think he'd be liking me showing off his private chambers now." "No, no I'm sure he wouldn't. I'll just wait here. Take your time." As she bustled off I turned, determined to go back for another look at that portrait. I stopped in my tracks as a haze began approaching from the end of the hall that led to the main staircase. By the time it reached me, it was Thomas, the Thomas from the portrait gallery with shaggy chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. The spitting image of the man I spotted in the gym except clothed in complete Northern Army Calvary Uniform right down to the saber. "Come, Jacqueline," he ordered me and he turned and strode right through the door I had been told not to enter to Mr. Crystle's domain. "What the hell," I thought. "Why not? Thomas Crystle had told me to come into his room after all." So I turned the knob and entered. He was waiting for me on the other side. The room was definitely a man's domain. It was done in heavy woods and rich colors. I liked it, a feeling of belonging here washed over me. Strange. No time to dwell though, he was here and I needed answers. "The woman in the portrait I saw, was she the woman you showed me on the beach?" "Yes." "Your sweetheart?" "Yes." "What happened Thomas?" "Would you like to see my last night here?" "Yes," I answered emphatically. "Anything that will help clear this up for me." He stepped behind me and I felt the cold as his hands came to rest upon my shoulders. In that moment, a scene began playing out before me. It was like watching an old fashioned movie, but in color and with sound. Thomas was laying upon the bed dressed in nothing but his pants his head upon a pillow writing diligently in a book. The sight of his bare chest was making me tingle. A scratching sound came from the doors to the balcony. He got up and opened the doors, a woman in a flowing blue period gown swept in quickly turning to close the doors behind her. She turned and I saw her face clearly. The woman from the portrait, Thomas' love, it was her. She flowed into his arms. "Jacqueline," Thomas said, holding her tightly. "You should not be here. We could be found together." "That would be fine with me Thomas," she answered. "Then you would have to marry me now, not later after you return from this venture you are set upon." "You know my reasons, Jacqueline. We will be married when I return. Now you must go. If you stay we may cross the line again. I love you with all my heart. We have been together the once and were not caught. We should not tempt fate." "You are leaving tomorrow to fight in this war. I do not know when I will see you again. I will love you tonight before you go. You will leave me with this memory to hold dearly to in your absence." "Jacqueline..." and with that his lips descended upon hers parting her lips and invading with bruising force. With a moan of acceptance she returned the kiss as their arms came around each other holding tightly. I felt a tear at my eye as he turned her and began unbuttoning her gown, his kissing lips trailing his hands as he moved lower and lower down her back. A visible shiver passed through her as he slid the gown off her shoulders. She was not wearing a corset and he quickly divested her of petticoats and other undergarments that I could not name. As he laid her gently upon the bed, he paused to remove his pants. I was impressed at the sight of his cock standing tall and ready as he gently knelt down next to her to once again claim her lips. He appeared as if he was feasting as he moved slowly down her body, stopping to suckle and fondle each breast, nipping at her nipples until she groaned in pleasure. Then further down he kissed his way past her navel to her bushy mound below. He gently pulled her legs apart and spread her lips with his hands. He paused, staring at what lie before him. Then I watched as his tongue laved her and swirled around her clit. She began writhing upon the bed appearing lost in sensation. I had been there before; it was an amazing feeling to have a man's lips upon you. His finger slid inside her causing her to cum. With his tongue upon her clit she moaned out her pleasure. He rose from her and came once again to her lips kissing her deeply, his body covering hers. She was wide open to him as his cock entered her wet pussy, pushing in slowly and deeply. They appeared glued together as he began thrusting, her hips rising to meet him. I could tell they were close. It was beautiful to watch. Too be made love to by someone you loved so deeply? "Jacqueline!" Thomas called out and a scream of passion was torn from her throat as her orgasm hit. They came together. Tears ran down my cheeks unheeded. As their climax passed, he held her closely, still seated deeply inside her. Then the door burst open behind me. "Thomas!" yelled a voice. "What the hell?" "Ben!" Thomas grabbed a sheet covering Jacqueline as he quickly removed himself from her and the bed. "What are you doing here?" "I heard a scream. What is she doing here with you? Her father is going to kill you!" "Damn it Ben! We are in love. I'm leaving. We plan to marry as soon as I return. The war isn't supposed to last long anyway. I need to trust someone. Ben, you're my brother, can I trust you?" "Thomas, how can you ask me that? I AM your brother. Of course you can trust me." "These days one can't be so sure. You're fighting for the South and I'm for the North, remember?" "I can't forget," Ben replied. The stark reality of the situation was written deeply on his face. "Take care of her for me Ben," Thomas pleaded. "If anything should happen..." "Nothing is going to happen Thomas, and yes, I'll take care of her." The image faded on the site of the brothers clasping arms as Jacqueline sat up in the bed behind them covered in a sheet. What he had shown me had answered a bit, but I still didn't get it. My ghost Thomas stepped out from behind me once more. "You loved her. Your brother was going to take care of her. I don't understand, what went wrong? Why are you still here Thomas?" "My brother took her from me," Thomas stated bluntly. "I left her in his care and he took her. They married. She had his child. Despite all that, I still love her. I want her back." "You died in the war knowing she was no longer yours? That's so sad." "You are my Jacqueline. You've come back to me finally." "I'm not her. I apparently look like her, but I'm not her, Thomas." His cold hand threaded through my hair and his cool lips claimed mine. The chill of his tongue battling mine heated my blood until I was tingling and thrumming with need. I wanted him. Through my lust clouded brain I faintly heard the voice of the housekeeper calling me. Thomas began to fade. "No!" I cried. "Don't go!" It was no good. He was gone. I retained enough presence of mind to skedaddle out of the room, closing the door behind me. It wouldn't do to be found where the housekeeper told me not to go. I needed to keep her trusting me. I needed her to find my answers. I turned and plastered a smile on my face as she bustled down the hall toward me carrying more than just a couple journals. A huge smile was on her face though as she showed me her treasures. We descended once more to the kitchen where I was completely dumbfounded as she presented the dress that Jacqueline had been wearing in the portrait, complete with undergarments. I was in shock. After over one hundred years they were in near perfect condition. She grinned at me in glee as she held the outfit up to me. "But how? Where did you find these?" "Oh, my dear, I never noticed that trunk before. I opened it looking for the journals you needed and the dress was there. You look so much like her. I thought maybe for the ball? Unless you have other plans?" "But this is perfect!" I was practically clapping my hands. This was perfect. When I had seen that portrait I had begun thinking of wearing a period costume to the Halloween Ball here. I was hoping to find something at the mall two cities over. But this? What would Thomas think seeing me in this? Then something occurred to me. "You said you haven't noticed that trunk before? Where was it?" "Oh sweetie, I was up in that dusty attic after those journals. I thought they would be with the others. In fact, I was sure they were in the library, but they weren't. So I went up looking. I never have noticed that trunk before and I'm up to the attic at least once a month after some odd thing, you know. It is odd, isn't it?" "Yes, odd," I answered, wondering if my Thomas had anything to do with this. So with the dress, reading material that would last me the rest of the night, and a hug from my new friend, I headed off down the path and back to my little room. I was simply dying to delve into the journals. Praying that they held the answers I so desperately wanted. Yes, I wanted answers, for both Thomas and myself. I could never let a mystery lie. What did I really want though? If the answers helped Thomas "cross over" then he would be gone. I was enjoying his presence in my life. I felt more complete knowing my ghost was around. How weird was that? But if there were no answers his soul would remain unsettled. Would I want that for anyone? Was I being selfish to want my ghost to stay with me? After all, I wouldn't be staying here, and in two days October would be over. What would I do? Put my ghost away until next Halloween? I groaned as I entered my room. I nuked a quick dinner and ate it along with drinking a glass of expensive wine. With sustenance under my belt, so to speak, I was ready for an all night reading marathon. I had many, many journals to wade through. After a few hours, I had learned absolutely nothing. I set the journals aside and stretched. It was definitely time for a break. I was stiff and cramped so I decided on a hot tub break. Grabbing my towel and slipping into flip-flops I headed out the door to the pool area. After a quick shower, I threw my towel on a chaise lounge and slipped into the steaming hot water. I leaned my head back against the edge of the sunken tub and stared up at the emerging stars. It was a beautiful night. I felt myself letting go of my frustrations and thinking of Thomas. The feelings he pulled from me were astounding. I had never fallen for anyone before. My first love was a ghost? No way. It must just be the Halloween season playing havoc with me. I closed my eyes and drifted... Until I felt cold upon my nipple. It startled me to say the least. My nipple, used to the steamy heat, rose immediately to the cool sucking. I looked down to find Thomas in the pool with me, naked and in his solid form. I admitted to myself that I wanted to have sex with a ghost. This was real. He was real. I put my arms around him and held him tighter to me and spread my legs to the cold hand I could feel caressing and exploring lower and lower. I felt his cold fingers enter my pussy as his lips continued to suck upon my nipple. They were shriveled and standing almost to the point of pain but it felt good. I came, my warm juices flooding his cold fingers. His mouth left my breasts and claimed my lips in a kiss deeper and stronger than the one this afternoon had been. His hands lift my hips and his cock slammed home into my pussy. The cold invasion so startling it sent my already heightened senses into overload. I came again but we were not finished. With his lips continuing to devour mine he kept thrusting deeply into me as I met every thrust trying to take him ever deeper into me. As I felt his cold cum spurting into my warmth, I came like I never had before. I felt myself stiffen trying to hold him inside, my muscles milking him of his creamy goodness. For a while, I floated, holding him, not wanting him to go. For some reason I could not explain I felt like this was our last time together. Too soon I felt him losing his solid form. "Don't go Thomas," I begged. "I must Jacqueline. I can only stay a short time with you." "But I love you!" "I love you too, my Jacqueline. I will return," and he dissolved from his semi solid state into a haze that drifted away. I lost it. I sat on the edge of the hot tub and lost myself to a flood of tears. I was sobbing so hard that I did not hear who walked up behind me until I heard the voice. "Are you all right Miss?" a deep male voice asked. Thomas? I thought. Then I felt a hand upon my shoulder. It was warm. Not Thomas then. I turned, tears still streaming down my cheeks. Shock jolted through me as I looked into deep brown eyes and saw a head of shaggy chestnut hair. "Thomas?" I thought I might faint. My strange behavior and disbelieving look must have alarmed him as he helped me up from the tub and over to my towel. He gently wrapped it around me before he spoke. "Yes, my name is Thomas. How did you know?" My tears were slowing and I was gathering my wits. How much should I reveal that I knew about him? "Um, I think I've seen your picture somewhere before," I improvised. "Really? I try to keep out of the limelight." "Yeah, I think so," I replied. "May I escort you back to your room? You still aren't looking quite your best, sorry to say. What is wrong, if you don't mind my asking? You looked like you lost your best friend or broke up with your boyfriend." I slipped my feet into my flip-flops as I answered him. "It feels like both actually." He took my arm in an old fashioned, gentlemanly gesture, and I couldn't help but smile. As we walked slowly back to my room he turned the topic and entertained me with tales of growing up at a nudist resort. Once at my door, I turned to him, one question burning in my mind, "Were you staring at me earlier today? Why?" He looked bashful for the first time. "Yes. I couldn't help it. It was like deja vu. It was like I'd seen you before, like I knew you or know you. I really can't explain it. I'm feeling it now. I want to kiss you but we don't even know each other." I looked into his troubled eyes, "Kiss me," I stated. He didn't think twice. His lips captured mine. The warmth shocked me as I had gotten used to cold kisses. I closed my eyes and lost myself to the moment. His tongue slipped past my lips and tangled with mine. It was the same. It was Thomas. How could that be? The kiss end slowly as he nipped gently at my lips a few last times. He pulled me closely to him in a tight hug. I sighed in contentment. The Presence "I have to go," he said. "I don't want to. Will you be at the Halloween Ball?" "Yes," I replied. "But, I'm scheduled to leave within a day or two after that." "So soon?" "I've already been here a while." "I'll look for you at the Ball then. Will you save a dance for me?" "Of course," I smiled at him. "Maybe all of them?" I suggested shyly. I was not good at this game. "That sounds like the perfect plan. Good night." I watched as he turned and strolled away into the night then slipped into my room. The pile of journals I still had to sift through look insurmountable. It was dry, all facts written by men. What I would give for just one of these journals to be written by a woman. I plopped down on the bed and got to work. I must have fallen asleep at some point because suddenly I came awake to a crash. Rolling over I had knocked the journals off the bed. I got groggily up and began straightening them, restacking the piles into read and yet to read. As I picked up the last journal I found something quite unexpected. Tucked within the bland cover that looked the same as all the other journals was a hidden leather covered journal embossed with a slightly faded name. Jacqueline. Jacqueline had kept a journal herself? This could be the answer to my prayers. I sat down quietly and almost reverently opened the cover. I lost track of time as Jacqueline's tale washed over me. That night upon the beach, the embrace Thomas had shown me, had been their first night together. She told of her deep abiding love for him and how he had loved her gently. She told of that last night she had been with him, the night I had witnessed. She told of the ecstasy she had felt in Thomas' arms and her embarrassment as Ben had burst in. A period had passed with no entries and then she had recorded her shock at finding herself pregnant. She had gone to Ben to confide her dilemma. He had suggested that they marry to alleviate any stigma that could be put upon her or the child. His brother's child would have their name one way or another. When Thomas should return they could deal with that then. Jacqueline had agreed. Then had come a page dated early November that was smudged and tear stained. News had reached them of Thomas' death in early October in some small no name battle. His body had not been recovered unfortunately. (No wonder Thomas haunted the place in October!) In her devastation, Jacqueline admitted to attempting to take her own life only to be thwarted by Ben. He had ordered her to take care as she carried the last they would know of Thomas and he would not lose his brother twice by losing his brother's child. She did not write again until after the birth of the child. It had been a boy. Ben had insisted on the name Thomas. Everyone thought it was to honor his lost brother when in reality it was Ben recognizing the child's true paternity. She wrote of the care Ben took of the child and over time, as her heart mended some from the loss of her love, she grew to care for Ben, not in the all soul-consuming way she had loved Thomas, but in a sweet gentle way. They eventually became lovers and she gave Ben a child, a girl. There were sparse entries over the following years. She told of the fire that had destroyed most of their home and the hard years following the war. As I read the final entry I was wiping tears from my eyes. Her daughter, Katherine Crystle had found a love of her own. She had married a man from a nearby plantation, Michael Dubois. The blood drained from my face and I felt faint. Dubois. Thomas and Jacqueline's son Thomas had inherited this place as Thomas' legacy, as Ben wanted it. Ben and Jacqueline's daughter had married a Dubois. My name. I didn't know my lineage. I had never cared, now maybe I had better. By morning, after a night spent on a genealogy website, I had my answers. I was the last descendant of Ben and Jacqueline just as Thomas was the last in a line descending from Thomas and Jacqueline. This was no coincidence. I looked like Jacqueline. Thomas was the image of Thomas. This evening would be quite interesting. I did not know whom I was looking more forward to confronting, my ghost Thomas or the real one. After collapsing into a deep sleep until mid afternoon and taking a hot steamy shower, I got ready to don my costume, Jacqueline's dress. Taking one look at it I knew I was out of my league. I made a quick call and within five minutes one of the office ladies was at my door. She put up my hair in an old fashioned style and had me done up in dress and petticoats very efficiently. Once I was buttoned in I turned to face the mirror. I blinked owlishly; I was Jacqueline. With heartfelt thanks to my fairy godmother, I was ready to head to the ball. I entered the clubhouse to find the Halloween Ball in full swing. There was everything from painted on costumes to see through ones to full store bought ones. I saw horror, silly, and cute elbow to elbow with sleazy. Some were quite creative; some were very traditional. Then I saw what I was really looking for. Striding toward me in full Yankee cavalry regalia was my Thomas, the Thomas who was intended for me. I had finally realized that the ghost Thomas belonged to the Jacqueline of the past, our ancestor, and I would need to let him know tonight what had really happened. This Thomas, the real one from here and now, would belong to me, almost as if we were reincarnated to get this second chance at happiness together. He reached me and took me into his arms. Grinning down at me he said, "I think my housekeeper has been playing matchmaker." I grinned back up at him and answered, "I don't think she has to," before he claimed my lips right there in the center of the dance floor. When we came up for air I suggested a walk to the beach. There was much he needed to hear, and I needed to find my, no, Jacqueline's, Thomas. We walked slowly, hand in hand, enjoying the quiet away from the music of the ball. As we neared the edge of the small beach I saw a familiar haze out upon the water. It came toward us and began to take form. Thomas tried to pull me behind him and I heard him breathe, "Oh my God," in shock. "It's OK," I said, pulling away from him. "I need to talk to him." By then Thomas was fully visible. I looked from the ghost to the man slightly taken aback. They were the spitting image of each other, and both looked good in a uniform. "Thomas, I know why you're still here," I stated. "You aren't here because of your love for Jacqueline. You are still here because of your hatred for your brother. You think the two of them betrayed you with each other. Thomas, they didn't. I'd like you to meet your many, many times grandson, Thomas. He looks a bit like you, doesn't he?" "My grandson?" he asked looking over at Thomas. "Yes! Jacqueline's son was your son! She and Ben did not betray you. He protected her as you asked him to. He protected your child. Eventually they came to care for each other that's true, but would you want her to live in the pain of your loss her whole life?" "No," he admitted. "I would want her to go on. I had a child?" "Yes you thick headed mule. You did. She had a child with Ben also years later, a daughter. Their daughter Katherine was my great, great something grandmother!" As the light of acceptance began to glow in his eyes I knew I was winning, it was time. "Thomas, you need to go to Jacqueline. You need to make peace with Ben. It's time to cross over. You are hers not mine. This is my Thomas," I reached out to take a flesh and blood hand into mine. "Go." Thomas turned slowly from me. I saw two figures form from the mist down the beach. It was Jacqueline and Ben. Thomas began walking slowly toward them. Jacqueline broke away from Ben and ran toward Thomas; throwing herself into his arms as he captured her lips with his. Then Ben was upon them also and it turned into a group hug. As they moved down the beach together they dissolved once more into the mist. My ghost was gone. Thomas took me into his arms and held tight as I broke down into tears. "I don't know what just happened for sure," he said, "but you will fill me in. Tomorrow. For now let's get you somewhere you can rest." He quietly steered me toward the path to the Big House. Upon entering, we were greeted by his most efficient housekeeper. "Oh my, what's wrong with the dear?" "She's had a bit of a shock tonight. You know, Halloween and all? Could you bring her a mug of hot cider to my room please?" "Of course, Mr. Crystle, right away," I heard her promise as he led me from the kitchen to the grand staircase. We ascended the stairs to his room and I was soon ensconced in the big comfy chair in the corner. The housekeeper was right behind us with a tray bearing hot, spiced cider with cinnamon sticks and warm donuts. Having made her delivery she quickly left again. After we had sipped and nibbled and I was quite calmer, Thomas disappeared into an adjoining room only to return divested of uniform and wearing only a pair of pajama pants. I had to laugh, "Smiley face pumpkins? Really?" "Gotta keep with the spirit of the season, don't I? Now, let's get you out of that dress, shall we? I assume you need some help?" "Yes please," I responded. "It took some work to get me into it." I turned my back to him struck by the similarity of what was happening now and the scene I had witnessed the other day here in this same room. I felt his hands slowly opening the buttons down my back, then his warm lips trailing in their wake. I shivered as he pushed the gown from my shoulders and ran his hands down my arms raising gooseflesh in his wake. He carefully untied my petticoats letting them fall to the floor. He took my hand as I stepped from my nest of clothing. "I can get you a robe. I'm sorry I forgot to grab one," he turned from me to return to the bathroom for a robe for me. "No," I told him stopping his retreat with my hand upon his arm. "Hold me?" And with those simple words I was in his arms, knowing I was where I belonged. His lips claimed mine with bruising force. He must have sensed the rightness of it all. I let my hands trail down his back to his waist and with not more than a flick his pants were on the floor and I could feel his cock pressing hard against my stomach begging for attention. I began trailing kisses along his jaw to his neck where I paused to suck hard leaving love bites behind. He shivered as I moved lower and ran my tongue around each of his nipples and lower yet, to burrow into his navel. Then I was on my knees before him with his cock before me. Taking him by the hips, I swirled my tongue around his head, enjoying the slight saltiness I tasted there. Then I took him in, my mouth riding him. I could feel the smoothness of his cock sliding in and out of my lips. I glanced up at him. He was looking down at me with an odd look in his eye. He stopped me with a touch and raised me to my feet once again claiming my lips with his own. "I want you, Jacqueline." "And I want you too, Thomas," I responded. And with that we were on the bed, his lips never left mine as he covered me with his strong body and entered me fully in one swift thrust. I wrapped my legs around him and met each thrust with my raised hips. He pounded into me, his hot cock pulsing in my warm pussy. Then we were coming together, warm cum spurting and hot pussy juices flowing; both of us crying out as we lost control to the overwhelming orgasm. When we finally came back to ourselves he was still deep within me. I wanted him again, now, but I was so very weary. He slipped out of me and rolled to the side. I cuddled into his embrace and I drifted to sleep with a smile upon my lips. I now knew how Jacqueline felt to be made love to by the one she loved with all her heart, for I knew without a doubt I loved this man. Hours later I came awake. Dawn was just breaking the horizon, and I glanced up in the light of the new day at the man holding me. He was looking down at me with that odd look in his eye once more. I was where I belonged. "Good morning," he said. "Good morning yourself," I retorted. "Happy November." "Hmmm. November. The ghost is gone. You'll have to explain this all to me you know." "I will. Maybe it will be my next best seller?" "It would make a good story, wouldn't it?" "Most definitely. You know, I'll have to go. I have a deadline." "But you WILL return," he stated emphatically. "Yes, you are my Thomas, and I am your Jacqueline. We have found each other and we are exactly where we've always belonged, this time forever. I love you Thomas." "And I love you Jacqueline," he said as he claimed my lips, claiming me for the rest of our lives.