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Closing her eyes, India let the energy of the music wrap itself around her body. She swayed to the music as she dressed herself for her new job. She would be turning twenty-five in a few weeks and would be the youngest marketing consultant in the Chicago-based company.
Music has always fascinated her and working in the industry would be a dream come true. India couldn't deny that she was looking forward to working for a ghost. The music that spewed from this unknown soul truly mesmerized her senses.
The lyrics melted the heartstrings while the tunes boggled the mind. How is it no one has gotten a glimpse of this twenty-three year old enigma, she wondered, pulling up her thigh-highs. She, along with millions of others, just wanted to satisfy her growing curiosity.
Confident of her woman's intuition, India figured she would be able to spot him in a minute. So she combed her hair in a bun, grabbed a quick bite to eat, and headed for the bus. Downtown was several blocks from her apartment, but she hadn't left in time to enjoy the walk. After getting off the bus, she looked up at her future 'home' and took a deep breath.
Five people came in one at a time to talk with India. They went over her duties and asked her to sign confidentiality papers before starting, in order to have her complete trust. The staff informed her of Ghost's anonymity and that for the last seven years he had worked hard at staying out of sight.
After they questioned her some more and she told them what they wanted to hear, India rose to find her office. Just then, one of the gentlemen looked toward the phone and asked if everything was acceptable. "It's cool," were the only words that came through the speaker.
The sound of his voice made India's skin hot, making her long for a fan. She hadn't heard the man as he told her where to find her office. Not wanting to appear daft, she shook his hand and wandered down the corridor in a slight daze. With some luck, she found it.
After getting settled, India received a phone call.
"Hi. This is Ghost," the voice said.
"Yes. Hi, I'm India," she said, hearing a soft guitar in the background.
"I know, I was listening to the meeting," not understanding why he chose to call.
"Will you do that to all the meetings?"
"Ha, ha. No, I won't," enjoying her natural curiosity.
"Oh. I guess dressing to impress is not totally obsolete then."
"No, you still represent me. Even if I...don't exist."
"Do you not like the nickname?"
"I came up with the name. When other people use it...it sounds different."
"They're just pissed they don't have the privilege to know you, perhaps?"
"Perhaps...shouldn't you be working?"
"Wouldn't you be distracted if a ghost called you?"
"Okay then, off to work," he said, smiling.
Later that week, on her lunch break, India went to one of the underground offices looking for a quiet place to eat. Music wafted from the built-in speakers. His music, she noticed. She spotted a door and entered cautiously, thankful no one was inside. Warm earth-tone colors decorated the room.
India chose to sit in the soft leather sofa on the far left wall. A little more than ten feet away, she could see her reflection in the one-way glass. She daydreamed a moment, remembering her conversation with the man himself. Talking to him on her first day of work was a bit surprising and the melodic baritone of his voice made her eager to see him in the flesh.
The music overhead became louder and she was again listening to the expertise of his talented fingers. Fingers that she wanted on her body, tangled in her hair, and trailing up between her thighs. Musical vibrations sifted through her pores, compelling her to get comfortable. India couldn't remember if she had locked the door, but the chance of getting caught only made her smile.
She raised her skirt above her thighs and laid her head back. Her middle finger tunnelled her silk panties and slid between slippery lips as she moved her hips to the flow of the music. She released a low moan as the friction struck her nerve endings.
Curious, she brought her head up and watched herself in the mirror, enjoying the arousing sight. But nothing prepared her for the silhouette that suddenly appeared behind the glass.
"You look as though you've seen a ghost," said the deep voice.
India watched the shadow pick up an object resembling a guitar. Still gazing in her direction, he strummed it softly.
"Please, continue," was all he said.
Listening to his tormenting tunes, India, whose hand hadn't budged from its juicy hold, continued caressing herself. Imagining his eyes looking right at her core, India slid two fingers inside her depths.
When he flicked his guitar strings, she pulled out and flicked her fingers over her clit. India tried to mirror his movements as best she could. However, moments later she found her own rhythm, ascending an unseen scale. Suddenly, the guitar dropped to his side on the floor. India could see the shadow of an arm pressed against the glass, the other was, no doubt, near his crotch.
She could hear his grunts through the speakers, the sight of him sent her trembling over the edge. India knew he was intently watching for he exploded soon after. Dropping into his chair, the man didn't move for a long moment.
"Is that part of the welcoming package?"
"Actually, I've never done that. With a stranger, that is," he said, smiling.
"Stranger? I'm sure you know more about me than I know about you."
"You sure about that? I think we're even."
"Not quite."
"Oh?"
"I didn't get to see you."
"I thought it was very sexy this way."
"And watching me masturbate face to face isn't?"
"I thought you were just going to eat. I hadn't planned you to be so...carefree."
"Planned? You had something else in mind?"
"Not like that. I just planned to be working, instead of playing. I hardly have time for it."
"I hope you enjoyed it," she said, fixing her skirt.
"More than you know," he said to himself.
"I said, wouldn't you like to know," teasing her.
"You're such a tease."
"How is that?" Feigning ignorance.
"No one gets to touch you."
"Really?"
Days and weeks passed as India learned his name was Derrick. They had to stay behind the glass for obvious reasons, she thought to herself. India enjoyed her work, but loved her lunch breaks even more as Derrick serenaded them both to euphoria and back.
One day, India decided to stay late, catching up on a few invoices that needed attention before the weekend. When she finished the paperwork, she headed for the elevator. As the doors closed, a tanned hand slipped through, stopping them from shutting.
The doors opened wide and a tall, gorgeous gem stood on the other side. Judging from his age, India decided he must be an artist of the company for he didn't look anything like the 'ghost' she had imagined. His sandy brown dreadlocs lay past his broad shoulders, his light green eyes seemed almost clear.
His scent nearly drove her mad with lust as he walked past and into the box. That is when she noticed the guitar strapped to his back. He leaned against the rail behind them as the doors closed, bringing his instrument around front. Derrick could see her curious frown and marvelled at her restraint at questioning him.
Leaning toward her ear, he said, "Would you like to touch me, India?"
His odd question suddenly made sense and she abruptly turned around, gazing at him. She could hardly breathe as she watched him slowly strum his guitar, staring back at her. He bowed his head, watching his own fingers as he played.
She could barely see his face with his hair hanging down, but she would never forget the sexy image. He stopped and told her how good he felt around her. Derrick hadn't felt the need to open up for a long time, but now, he just couldn't help himself.
Derrick suddenly stopped playing, the faint sounds of his music drifted from the elevator speakers. Setting down the musical device, he removed his shirt and reached for her. He pushed India against the doors and kissed her until she became dizzy. They could both hear each other's heavy breathing as clothes were removed and thrown to the floor.
Derrick stared at her curvaceous figure. Round breasts with a small waist, he thought, licking his lips. Her mocha skin made his mouth water. He lifted her and placed her on his hips, holding her there he played with her light brown nipples with his fingers.
He squeezed her breasts between his large hands and parts of her softness seemed to come through his fingers. He brought his head down to her chest, nibbling on her soft skin, while cirlcing wet paths around the plumpness with his tongue. India's arousal had been building for so long that her moans sounded like sobs.
Ghost flicked his tongue over her hard nipple and brought his mouth to hers, using the same muscle to caress between her lips. Their juices combined and slid down each other's throat, the liquid warming the middle of their chests.
When he thought he had given her enough time to 'adjust', Derrick let her slide to her feet and spread her legs apart. Slightly bending at the knees, he held his cock and swirled it around between her moist lips. Cream coated the head of his shaft as he let it slide inside. India stood still as Derrick slowly brought his hips back and forth.
His large frame pummelled India's petite hips until she was begging for him to stop, although she meant nothing of the sort. The pleasure was tantalizingly amazing as her head flailed from side to side. India relaxed her muscles and let her orgasm take her breath away.
Euphoric waves assaulted India's body, the ripples lingering for long moments. Derrick slid out of her temporarily to lay her down on his clothes, face down. He straddled her bottom while her legs were closed together. Grabbing her ample flesh, he slid his cock easily between the wet entrance. Derrick watched the girth of his dick become coated with juices as it disappeared between her ass into her creamy pussy.
He rested his hands against the elevator wall, giving him leverage, and roughly drove into India's cunt. Derrick's hips moved like a well-oiled engine, pushing to the hilt and pulling back within a hundredth of a second. India's moans were music to his ears as he rode her. Bringing one hand down, he proceeded to strum her clit like the strings on a harp.
Like the vibrations of a piano cord, the sensations trembled through her nerves. The continued play on her button coupled with the relentless pounding of his shaft from behind, sent another wave of pleasure coursing through her tummy. Her orgasm was more intense than the last, the throbbing never dying against his moving invasion.
As the trembling assaulted his cock, Derrick pulled out and exploded onto India's cheeks. Strings and drops of warm cum cascaded down her roundness, pooling onto her lower back.
"Arghh...my God," Derrick yelled.
"Mmm...wow," India purred. "So...do I pretend not to know you?"
"About that, I've been meaning to tell you," he said after his breathing calmed.
"What?"
"I'm not the ghost, India. I never laid eyes on you until that day in the studio.
"Meaning?"
"My twin brother is Ghost, sweetie," he said, winking at her.
;D
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