Message-ID: <61951asstr$1333710604@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <Pine.LNX.4.21.1204051834440.12197-100000@shell.dhp.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 5 Apr 2012 18:35:45 +0000 (/etc/localtime) Subject: {ASSM} Horny Ghosts {Varkel} (Mgg multMF oral fant) [3/7] Lines: 896 Date: Fri, 06 Apr 2012 07:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2012/61951> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, RuiJorge Horny Ghosts by Varkel Spring, 2012 Chapter 3: _Communications_ _Kaitlyn Dimmel Rendiss_ We found Perry in one of the dozen cubicles in the _Courier_'s news room, sitting at his desk, sleeves rolled up and wearing a green eyeshade, of all things! He had become a bit pudgy since I had known him. He had a wired telephone caught between ear and shoulder with fingers poised to type on the keyboard. On the flatscreen monitor before him I saw a few paragraphs below the title, _High Bridge Collapses_. He said, "I'm standing by. See if you can find a witness." I complained aside to Darryl, "He used to be so trim. Still, I should have married him instead of that pervert who destroyed my kids' childhood." "He was always a straight arrow," Darryl said, "who preferred older girls." He looked around at me with a grin. "I'm 28. If you're 18 months older than he, I'd guess you're about 29." He was presumptive, I thought, then changed my mind. Screwing a man does give him certain rights. "I'm 30." "That figures. I'll bet he remembers you favorably. You said you were in high school, right? Were you a junior or senior?" "Senior." I may have blushed, if ghosts can do that. Let it all hang out. "We worked on the school paper together. He was my first ... love." He regarded me searchingly. "I'm surprised I don't recall you myself. You certainly are attractive." "I know what attracts you. Raise your eyes!" He grinned. "You're saying you didn't have them then?" "Two babies helped that, you can be sure! Well, here we are with Perry. What now?" "We need to get his attention, and that's only possible with a sexual approach." "A sexual approach? Is that how you got Emily?" "I fondled her tits and she thought I was Jesus." "I know Perry. He's not religious." "Perhaps not, but he's receptive to the idea of ghosts. I'll bet most reporters are. Slip under the desk and suck his cock. That'll get his attention!" "You can't be serious!" "Just do it and you'll see." "You may have noticed that I never even did _that_ for you!" "Any time you want to practice, Baby, here it is!" He shook his head. "But hold on and I'll check." He disappeared into the desk but returned in a moment. "I can't even feel his cock! It needs work, Kate." "What makes you think _I_ can feel it?" "I hope you can, if you want to put Bode down." That convinced me. I had fellated Derrek a few times but had never enjoyed it, even when I was drunk. Who could enjoy a man's urinary organ in her mouth? I scowled at Darry but moved through the top of the desk, getting a flash of a rat's nest of papers succeeded by Perry's slightly splayed legs. He was all zipped up; how was I supposed to get at ... Well, cloth would be no barrier, I expected. I cupped my hand forward. It was dim under the desk but I could see my fingers vanish into his fly. And I felt something: a soft lump low in his groin. Perry gave a start. Apparently he felt me too. I pushed my face forward but his thing hung too low to get past my teeth. So I slithered my legs under him as if sitting on the floor. Now with my head raised I could suck him in. Curiously his penis seemed much more substantial to my mouth than it had to my hand. I heard Perry say, "What the hell?" He reached down and unzipped his trousers and extracted his member. His hand pulled on it briefly but fell away. Though I couldn't feel them, somehow I understood that they interfered with the sensation of my mouth. I sucked on it and it grew. "Oh my god!" he exclaimed. "What's happening?" His leaned sideways and looked under the desk's front drawer. By this time I had needed to switch my legs back to a kneeling position because his organ was standing tall. I'm sure he could see it, perhaps the flesh rippling as my head bobbed. His eyes were wide. He murmured, "My god, that feels exactly like a blowjob! How did you do that before my fly was open?" How indeed! My fingers cupped his testicles the way Derrek used to ask for. Apparently Perry liked it too, although I had not thought to try it when we were dating. His penis swelled and began to spurt. I felt something tasteless on my tongue and heard faint splashing sounds behind me. God, he was coming in my mouth! That first time with Perry, years ago, I had caught it, somehow not expecting it, and even swallowed but always afterwards popped the organ out when it started. But how was this possible? I craned my neck to look over my shoulder and saw dim splatters on the desk's vanity wall. My god, his semen must have passed right through my head! But not all of it, I saw; some of the splashes were old and dried. Tasteless or not, this time it was not at all disagreeable. In fact the idea of it somehow stirred my female parts. When I rose atop the desk, Perry was leaning well back in his captain's chair, panting through an open mouth. Knowing what I wanted, even though Derrek had seldom offered it, I rose higher, opened my legs and settled my vagina directly over Perry's mouth. With a little twitching he got the idea. His tongue lifted my clit. Suddenly I understood Darryl's motivation with Emily only too well. Oh, that lovely feeling! My orgasm was not as strong as the one Darryl produced, but it was good. How can anyone have one that isn't? My legs were damp. Perry's face, I saw when I settled to stand beside Darryl, was wet. From the seminal example I presumed that fluids couldn't mix between the living and the dead. Darryl took out a handkerchief, wiped his mouth, looked around including the aisle beyond his cubicle and shook his head. "A succubus, by god! They do exist! Are you still here?" He held out his hand. "Touch me if you can. Please!" The telephone, still in his ear, squawked. His eyes widened. "Nevermind. Look, something has come up. Call me back if anything changes." He slammed the receiver onto its base. "Let me take over," said Darryl, walking into the desktop and bending over but turning so that he faced me. _Darryl Benton Parks_ "Mind you," I said to Kate, "I'm not queer, but I'm going to have to do a job with Perry's dick." She shrugged. "I'm not judgmental about that, Darryl. Do what you have to do." One eyebrow lifted. "You might even enjoy it." Enjoy it? Why would she believe that? My hand under the desk easily found his cock, still standing. I was reluctant to touch it but reasoned it was for a good cause. Pinching the head of his dick, I squeezed out some code. Perry's body stiffened and his eyes narrowed. I repeated the sequence. "C fucking Q!" Perry exploded. "What the fuck is going on?" "What does he mean?" Kate asked. "I told him CQ -- dah-di-dah-dit dah-dah-di-dah -- the radio signal for 'General Call:' that is, the sender wishes to talk to anyone." "But you don't want to talk to just _anyone_!" "Don't I?" REMEMBER DARRYL, I signaled. "'Darryl?'" he repeated, blinked and added, "From the radio club?" Y "You can hear what I say?" U STILL BELIEVE IN GHOSTS I couldn't recall the Morse punctuation marks. Guess I could've spelled QM or something, but squeezing out Morse at about five words per minute is tedious. Anyway he understood me. "'Ghosts?' Bullshit!" He craned his neck as he had with Kate, looking at his upstanding cock. "I'm going out of my fucking mind!" U BEEN OUT OF IT I DIED WHEN BRIDGE FELL I heard his fingers on the keyboard and looked around. As I squeezed, he was keying the characters into a blank space on his monitor. "And just like that you're a ghost?" Y "I hope you didn't just suck me off!" WAS KATE REMEMBER KATE "From high school?" Y "She got my cherry." Kate had moved around where she could see his monitor. She said, wide-eyed, "You're talking to him!" SAME KATE "Hello, Kate. Somebody's been teaching you. You must be a ghost too." "Tell him hello." KATE SAYS HI DIED ON BRIDGE TOO CARS IN RIVER My rhythmic squeezing had brought his cock back to full tumescence. He became calm and thought for a moment. "You two were on the bridge when it fell?" he asked in a normal voice. Y "Who else?" TWO TEENAGERS ON MOTORCYCLE "Anybody else?" N "Know the teenagers' names?" JEFF AND MERRIE "I need their full names. Are they with you now?" N "Well, it's still great, I'll get a scoop! Do you know what made the bridge fall? Some said it was a small earthquake." Y "And down it went, eh? Tell me ... Whoa, I'm talking to dead people! Jesus Christ, what a scoop this will be! Oops. My god, Darry, you're dead!" KATE NEEDS HELP "How can I help a ghost?" he asked. A woman passing his cubicle paused and said, "Anything wrong, Perry?" He twitched and looked over his shoulder. "No, Delores. I'm just grousing out loud." She grinned. "With a ghost?" "Two of them." He winked. "News from the beyond." She sniffed and continued on down the aisle without a backward glance. "Keep doing it," Perry said as we listened to the woman's receding footfalls. WHAT "Morse Code." The guy wanted me to whack him off? He had already come in Kate's mouth -- or _through_ it. What was he, some kind of potty stud? He giggled. I repeated, WHAT "Even as a ghost I would never jack on another man. I always knew you were queer." Morse code is so damned cumbersome that I decided not to argue with him. I squeezed his dick until he cried out in pain. "Okay, okay," he exclaimed. "I'm sorry I called you a queer. I'll do what I can for Kate, but first how about answering some questions. As far as I know, this is an unprecedented situation. Tell me about the afterlife. Have you seen the tunnel and the white light?" N "You haven't, huh? I always thought it was bullshit. What have you seen?" SIGHT AND SOUND SAME NO FEELING "You mean you can't feel ... You must be able to feel _something_!" ONLY SEX ORGANS "Not _only_. I felt Kate's legs when I was licking her twat." MORE IF AROUSED "Wow! So the succubus tales could be true, could they?" Kate said, "Tell him about Bode." KATE HAS PROBLEM "All right, all right. Tell me about it." NEIGHBOR FUCKING UNDERAGE DAUGHTERS "Who?" I got it from Kate. Perry typed, GRIFFIN D BODE "Kate's own daughters?" he said after a moment's thought. "What does she want me to do, write it up in the paper?" TELL COPS OR WHATEVER "Without proof, that would be serious libel. Can you get proof?" I looked at Kate and shook my head. "This is worse than going to the cops." "How?" "Cops can get their own proof." Perry said, "Please, Kate, let Darry give me the poop on the afterlife. The whole world would love to know what it's like to be dead." She shrugged, so I began to tell him, a tedious business, but at least he couldn't interrupt me unless I let him. For sure I never squeezed my own dick this long before. Whacking it is another matter. _Kaitlyn Dimmel Rendiss_ While Darryl and Perry continued their peculiar conversation, with Darryl reaching through the desktop to compress Perry's member, I thought about Perry's libel opinion and finally said, "Ask him how we could get proof." Darryl said, "Proof that he likes having his dick squeezed? I've got that in my hand." Which made me giggle. "Is that the same as proof you like squeezing dicks?" "Okay. You mean proof of Bode's chicken-hawkery?" That stopped my giggle. "Sometimes, Darryl, you're as opaque as those teenagers. 'Chicken-hawks?' What do they have to do with anything?" "A chicken-hawk is a man who molests young children. For proof of his pedophilia, you either need a video or an adult witness. Both would be better." "But that would shame my daughters!" "Maybe not. News organizations don't announce pedo victims' names." I mused, "We've got witnesses." "Who can't testify." "Alice can." "To what? That your girls were in Bode's house?" "But he's ruining them!" "It's my guess somebody else did that, and you know who, don't you?" "Oh, god!" I cried in despair, bowing my head in a funk. After a moment Perry said, "Entrap who?" Darryl said, "I just told Perry we need to entrap Bode. Do you know his address?" "Yes." I proceeded to tell him. "Hold on." Transmitting anything by Morse Code seems a slow process. I guess the reason it was so important 100 years ago is that it still beats the dickens out of delivered mail. Perry was typing something on his computer keyboard. I looked at the monitor and saw Bode's address on the county mainframe's web page. In a moment he said, "Griffin Damien Bode and Deborah W., _ux_., own that property." Thinking I was repeating it, I said, "Ucks?" Darryl responded, "_Ux_. It's the Latin abbreviation for _wife_." Perry continued, "You say he's screwing Kate's underage daughters? That son of a bitch! How did you find out?" Darryl groaned. "This will take a lot of explaining. All right, Kate, stand by." I said grumpily, "We've already established you like to play with his stuff." "No, we have not!" So I waited -- and understood one advantage of ghostliness: you don't have to find a chair. It's no effort to wait standing up. * * * When Jeff could see the high school building in the distance, he said, "What are you looking for there? You know it's Saturday." "Whangs." "Huh?" "The things between boys' legs." He sniffed. "I might've known. But on Saturday?" "In the gym. The team practices on Saturday morning. I've been wanting to ask you, Jeff, why you didn't go out for football." "That's easy. You can't kick with your dick." She giggled but said, "Huh?" "I'd rather fuck than kick." "Guess I ought to 'preciate that." The gymnasium was in a separate building. They dived through its front wall on the second floor, into the boys' locker room. As it happened, the team, at least two dozen boys, were cleaning up after their practice. The shower room was full of sleek, wet bodies. "Oh, wow!" cried Merrie. "Look at all those tight little asses and washboard abs! And more whangs than you can count." "Too bad they're all flopping," said Jeff dryly. "Oh, I know how to fix that! Wish I had a sister to share with." Jeff thought it was curious that despite all the rushing water and the shouting back and forth produced by grab-ass, he and Merrie could understand each other without uncertainty. For the first time he wondered if ghosts used something other than sound to communicate. Merrie, the "gherst," had dived among the big boys. She mouthed each cock she came to that was holding reasonably still. Though she was invisible in the throng, Jeff could follow her progress by the sequence of boys who suddenly froze with wide eyes. One screamed to his neighbor, "God dammit, keep your hands to yourself!" Further in the crowd a boy knocked another down, producing a domino effect of staggered bodies. In a jiffy they were fighting. "Holy shit!" exclaimed Merrie, ducking out of the melee. "What's wrong with them?" The screaming attracted other boys, either awaiting or finished washing, to the shower room doorway. Jeff chortled, "_You're_ what's wrong with them." "Me?" "They think the next stud grabbed their dicks." "Dumb-fuck boys!" "What do you expect them to think?" One of the boys in the doorway said, "Some of the team is bleeding already. Shouldn't we call the coach? Where is he?" "In his office," said another and sneered. "You know what he's doing." They turned back to watch the fight and had to dodge escaping wet bodies. Now Jeff was curious. He caught Merrie's hand and pulled her across the room. "Where you going?" she demanded. "Getting you out of trouble. Let's check on the coach." In the coach's office the distant shouting was still faintly audible but clearly the three persons present were not interested. Jeff recognized Coach Emory Janicett lying on a couch, nude but for socks and sneakers, hairy belly protruding, with a boy, fully nude, too young to have hair below the ears, perched on his chest while Coach Em's lips slurped away on the immature cock. Another boy, also naked, slightly older with beginning pubes, sat backward on the coach's hips, impaled on the administrate member. Coach Em's hand was extended around the backward boy's hip to pump that second immature cock. Upon looking closer Jeff conceded the third one was of a respectable size. "Holy shit!" Merrie repeated. "He's fucking little boys!" "Going and coming, it looks to me," Jeff remarked. "But they're both ninth graders. I've seem 'em around." "That one getting blown don't even have whang hair!" "Maybe he skipped a grade or two." "If he's so smart, how come he's letting a man blow him?" Jeff grinned at her. "A lot of studs don't care who's sucking." She watched the trio with growing disgruntlement. He said, "What's eating you?" "What about the one with the whang up his ass. Wouldn't a stud care about _that_?" "Well, yeah, that's less common. I guess some studs like it. You oughta know." "But I'm a fox!" "A hot one too." "Which one of them d'you think'll jizz first?" Jeff studied the trio. "I'd bet on the hairless one." "Why?" "Younger ones are usually quicker -- unless it's his second shot." But they were not to find out. A sharp rapping on the office door finally got the trio's attention. Both boys sprang off the coach, who rose up. He directed, "In the closet, both of you!" Snatching up their clothing, they disappeared, slamming a second door behind them. The coach got to his feet, donned his briefs and went to the door despite their tented front. "What is it? I'm dressing." "Fighting in the showers!" was the excited reply. "Some guys are hurt." The coach departed, wearing only shoes, socks and briefs. He had hardly closed the door behind him when the two nudes peeped out of the closet and cautiously emerged, both still sporting erections "Fighting in the showers?" said the one with fuzzy pubes. His cock was definitely the larger. He giggled. "Told you they were all assholes." "That's all you care about," declared the hairless one, smaller in all respects. "Shit! I was about to come." The larger one bent over and said, "Then stick it in." "Into shit?" Larger giggled. "Hell, Coach Em already packed that back." But Smaller was not intrigued. "I'll suck you if you'll suck me." Larger shrugged and took the departed coach's position on the couch. In a jiffy Smaller was atop him, reversed in a classic sixty-nine. Merrie's lip curled. "The top one still _talks_ like a girl! And his whang is about like your bang finger. Now I don't care who jizzes first." "Don't you want to know if they swallow?" She regarded him narrowly. "Jeffrey Miller! This gay shit turns you on?" He turned his burgeoning erection away from her but said, "I told you: I like blowjobs. Come on. Let's find the other ghosts." She held up a hand. "Not so fast! I want to check out someone else." "Who?" "Mr. Bingham." "The English teacher?" "You bet. He's hot!" She dashed away through the wall toward the main building. Jeff followed her with a sigh. Where else would he go? She was after all the only female available to him. He found her in a classroom, deserted on Saturday except for one man, who was sitting at the large desk with a red pencil in his hand. Merrie was peering over his shoulder. As Jeff approached, she looked up gleefully. "Ha, ha! Amy Washbourn got a D!" Interested despite himself, Jeff drew near. He had always made Bs and Cs in English. "How well did you do?" She sniffed. "Looks like he's got them in alphabetic order. My paper's probably in that pile." She buried her hands into it with no effect. While they watched, the teacher marked a large A on the paper of Donald Yale and sat back with a sigh. Jeff said disparagingly, "Donald's a geek." "Denise says he's got a big whanger." Jeff chuckled. "She'd probably know." "I'm curious about Bingham's." "Well, check it out." "You don't mind?" "At least he's not black." She cocked her head. "What you got against blacks?" "Their oversized whizzers." She settled with one hand on her hip, pointed breasts swaying. "I'll never understand why that matters to _boys_!" "If you had a little one you'd know." "I've told you yours is lots bigger than average." "Yeah." He turned away but turned back when from the corner of his eye he saw her duck through the man's desk, her head and shoulders appearing before it. Mouth wide open, she nuzzled into his groin. He started and she looked up with a twinkle. Jeff said with interest, "You can feel his whang right away?" She nodded. The man sat up, hand investigating his trousers. Hurriedly he looked around then under the desk, even though his chair was pushed back from it. His eyes widened dramatically. He reached partly through the girl's face and Jeff heard the whine of a zipper. In a moment her head was bobbing on a cock poking through the open fly. "My god!" breathed the amazed teacher. "What in the world is going on?" His hands rose to caress the girl's head. Shortly he surrendered to the pleasure, leaning back again with his eyes closed. Jeff watched, cock and disgruntlement rising, but not for long. Seminal streaks erupted from the back of Merrie's head, falling through her torso to the floor except for one strong enough to splash on the pile of graded papers. The teacher groaned and used both hands to push the girl back. Jeff said in wonder, "How could he push you away but his jizz went right through you?" Merrie stood up and passed through the man's outthrust leg to stand beside Jeff. She blinked. "That's why I couldn't taste it." "Yeah. Look!" She laughed, delighted by the pearly drops decorating the top test paper. Jeff said, "I'd like to hear him explain that." "He hasn't even noticed it." "Well, what about the size of his whang?" "You've got nothing to worry about." _Darryl Benton Parks_ Thoroughly tired of squeezing a cock -- not even my own! -- I floated out of Perry's desk and said to Kate, "I'm blowing this joint!" She looked up from his monitor and said with wide eyes, though I detected a twinkle, "All of them?" "That's your job," I growled and sailed through the ceiling without looking back. She'd be redundant anyway where I was going. I could not stay away from the still virgin Emily. Kate had interrupted me before I could sufficiently explore Emily's lovely flesh with my fingers and tongue. So I returned to the company of my young idol. She was awake, lying naked on her bed with two fingers idly plying her cunt. Whether she had already frigged herself or was just starting, I could not know. "Jesus, sweet Jesus," she murmured. I lay beside her and cupped a firm, youthful breast. Its hard nipple tickled my palm. "Oh, Lord! You've returned!" she exclaimed. Was she more sensitive than other women I had touched this morning? No, I realized. She was aroused. Apparently sexual passion increases sensitivity, as I quickly proved by her response to my lips on hers and my hand on her sleek thigh. She sighed repeatedly and fondled my head as I tongued her exquisite body. In my enthusiasm I bid her nipple too hard. "Lord!" she cried. "You may do that but it hurts." I moved lower to press my face into her soft belly, licked her navel and continued downward to her lush bush. As I ate her out she soon gasped in orgasm, in her excitement throwing a lovely leg over my head and squeezing it. Being a ghost, I did not feel smothered. "Jesus!" she cried. "I want to be with you forever!" Mounting her, I felt her whole body beneath me. She grasped my shoulders and we kissed as I penetrated her virginity without ripping the hymen. We fucked in a delirium of confused passion, she with Jesus and I with my ideal young girl. Her climax was loud, almost violent. She scratched my ghostly arms when it was my turn for ecstasy, a surprisingly quick result after my two earlier pop-offs. This time when we finished, she did not roll over and fall into blissful sleep. But the passion was done. My hand grasped just air, when I sought to bring her into an embrace. "I must join you," she said. "I've prepared to do this." I could not understand her meaning until she rose from the bed and retrieved a small pistol from her dresser. "The priests say it's a sin to kill yourself, Jesus," she said. "But I'm your bride and I want to be with you. You're greater than the pope himself. Tell me if I may do this. If you say nothing ..." "No!" I screamed, but of course she could not hear me. After a moment's hesitation, perhaps allowing for divine instruction, she raised the gun and shot herself in the temple. It was a bloody mess. She lay on the floor with her pretty head partly blown away. I leaned over the edge of the bed to stare at her, chin sagging in horror. Such an awful fate for once-delicate beauty! Very curiously she split in two. Another body rose from the crumpled remains and stood above me as I lay on the bed. This one retained her unblemished loveliness. She regarded me doubtfully. "You're shorter than I expected." She climbed back onto the bed to lie beside me. "You jumped to a conclusion," I told her. "I'm not Jesus, just an ordinary ghost. And now so are you." "Not Jesus!" she gasped. "You have to be! I killed myself for you!" "I tried to stop you, but it happened too quickly." "I committed a mortal sin!" she screamed. "I'm going to Hell!" "Calm down, Emily. I've been dead longer than you and I haven't noticed hell, or heaven for that matter, except maybe a little of the latter here with you." "We're in Limbo?" she asked, evidently relieved. "I have no idea. We're just ghosts who can fly around the living world and in some cases interact with it." She squinted at me with one eye closed. "Don't I know you?" she asked. "Weren't you one of my customers?" "Yes. In fact you were my favorite waitress. I fantasized about what your uniform concealed." Her jaw dropped. "I'm naked!" she wailed, seeking vainly to conceal her breasts and groin. "All ghosts are naked, Emily. You'll have to get used to that." She stared at my cock that was half hard because of the nearness of her soft, beauteous body. "I've never seen one of those before." "It still works, even though I'm dead. And you'll enjoy sex, even though you're also dead." "I've never had sex! I'm a virgin!" "I've given you wonderful orgasms, Emily. You must remember them." "That was Jesus' doing!" "No, I was the one. I'd like to give you more pleasure." Emily looked at me, again with a doubtful expression on her lovely face. "But it's sinful to ... do that before marriage." "As a ghost? Who told you the rules for ghosts?" "Oh, God!" Her hand fluttered on her cunt. Lying alongside her, I stretched a hand to stroke her far shoulder then sought to pull away the arm concealing her tits. She resisted at first then allowed me to remove it. "What's your name?" she asked. "Darryl." She closed her eyes as she lay fully exposed. She did not protest my searching hands. She returned my kiss. Her young body was so exquisite! She did not respond to my roaming kisses until my tongue left an inner thigh and my lips encountered her pubic bush. Then she squirmed in anticipation. As I ate her out Emily became increasingly agitated. But I did not continue and bring her off. When she began to emit small animal sounds that signaled her approach, I moved quickly atop her and thrust my turgid cock into her, ripping her hymen at last. She cried out in surprise and pain. "Jesus never hurt me!" "I'm not Jesus," I whispered into her ear as I fucked the exquisite girl of my fantasies. Fucking her ghost to ghost was more exciting than before. Her reproachful gaze into my face made the experience so much more human. For the fourth time I came in a couple minutes. Slipping off her, I glanced between her legs. No sign of blood -- or jizz either. Ripping a ghostly hymen, while painful for the rippee, may not be so messy as a living one. "What now?" she asked. We lay side by side after the fuck. She toyed with my flaccid cock as my hand relished the touch of her soft, flat belly. "What do you mean? We're dead." "That's no excuse! I refuse to live in sin, so I demand that you marry me." "Sweetheart, the rules have changed," I argued. "I have no idea what common morality is in our new condition." "New or old, it makes no difference!" Emily was gorgeous -- visually the perfect girl for me -- but she displayed a disturbing wifely bitchiness. "Maybe, in the end, we'll go to different places," I suggested without grinning. "We're both going to hell, you fool. We'll need each other down there." "You'd certainly brighten it up!" I said with a smile, floating out of the bed. "I know some other ghosts, two of them female. Would you like to meet them?" "Girls?" She bit her plump lip thoughtfully and rose to join me but shook her head. "I don't need girls but I'll go with you." -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+