Lauren's Halloween Ghost? - by Jeff Zephyr

Usual disclaimer:  This story involves sexual subject matter.  If you
aren't old enough to read this, go home!  Don't blame me if you have
problems which result from reading further.

Copyright by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph@hotmail.com) 2003.  Please don't
distribute in an altered form, or with any charges for acquisition.

This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to real persons is
unintentional and strictly coincidental. Any real people, places, or
things mentioned in this story do not appear with permission, and any
representations of them should not be interpreted as being in any way
based on reality.

If reception of this work is illegal due to your age or other
repressive local regulations, liability for downloading it is your
problem, not mine.


Lauren's Halloween Ghost? - by Jeff Zephyr
(jeffzeph@hotmail.com) 2003.  All Commercial Rights Reserved.




Lauren's Halloween Ghost?
(f-solo, m?/f oral 1st?, magic, spooky)




"That big white house on the hill is haunted," Ashley told Lauren. 
The 9th graders were telling scary stories, teasing each other before
Halloween.

"The one with the old oak tree?"

"Yeah, that's the one.  They burned a witch there long ago."

"They don't really do that.  Didn't you remember, when they did the
Salem trials thing in history class?"

"Well, they did something to the witch."

"Anyway, I live there.  It is a nice house."

"Is it spooky?"

"Dad says there is no such things as ghosts.  I didn't even know about
the story, until after we moved.  I didn't hear about any witch, just
that it was supposed to be haunted.  But Dad knows, it is just wind or
settling, stuff like that.  Maybe because it is so new?"

Ashley said, looking a bit spooked herself, "Isn't that scary?  I
mean, I'd be afraid if I heard strange sounds at night."

"It's OK.  I'm not a baby.  Who's afraid of a ghost?" Lauren said,
teasing back.  She wasn't about to admit that there was anything to
ghost stories.

"Speaking of ghosts . . . "  Ashley pointed at Brandon.  He had a
white sheet with him, playing a ghost like in the cartoons.  It wasn't
scary.

"You'd make a nice match, you've got the same sort of hair," Ashley
said.

Light brown, blond, he had nice looking hair.  And a nice face.

Yeah, Lauren thought.  I haven't met that many guys yet.  I haven't
even dated anyone, not like real dates.  I'm still the new girl. 
Ashley was still looking at her, waiting for something, so she said,
"He is kind of cute."

"A bunch of us are getting together Halloween.  You know, to take the
little kids around.  We get to wear our costumes, then we'll hang out
a little after.  Maybe you could hook up with Brandon then?"

"OK, I guess."

Ashley was a little jealous of Lauren, but she still liked the new
girl, and was trying to help her fit in.  Sometimes she looked like a
little girl, with that light hair.  But from the side, well, boys
didn't ignore that sort of shape, did they?

Except that they did.  No one she knew had got around to asking Lauren
out, and she seemed kind of strange.  Shy.  Smart, and if she didn't
look pretty she'd be called a nerd.  Well, she only wore sunglasses,
not real ones, but she wore them all the time.  But if Brandon got
interested in a girl, maybe his friend Justin would too?  He's even
cuter.

Boys are such a pain, Ashley thought.  All they have to do is ask us,
just ask, and we could be together.  Isn't that what they want?

====

When Lauren got home that afternoon, she thought about the ghost
story.  "Daddy says there is no ghost around her," she said aloud,
seeing no one in sight. "But we know better, don't we?"

The curtain moved suddenly.  The window was open, so it was just the
wind, right? Lauren thought.

The first night in the new house, she'd screamed!  The stuff on her
dresser was sliding off, all by itself.  Her dad and her brother Kyle
teased her about it.  So what, the dresser wasn't level.  That didn't
mean anything, it still shouldn't move on its own.

So when Ashley asked her about the ghost, she told the truth.  Just
not the whole truth.  Bad enough that her family thought she was
crazy.  Maybe some friend might believe her, but she wasn't sure that
anyone in the new town was her friend yet.

She wasn't alone in the house.  It was quiet, so she didn't notice,
but as she went upstairs to her room, she saw someone come out of the
bathroom.

Kyle, she thought.  Damn him!

Her younger brother annoyed her a lot.  She tried to get along with
him, but he was hitting that trouble age -- 12!  He wasn't a little
kid anymore.

So why did he walk out naked, with the towel on his head, not on his
middle?

He was almost thirteen, and from behind, he looked really nice. 
Lauren didn't like that reaction at all.  So she stayed silent,
watched her brother walk away, clueless on the effect he was having on
his sister.

She was tempted to chase him, make him turn around.  She got just a
glimpse of his front as he turned into his room.  His thing -- his
dick, it was big enough to call that -- barely showed, but it was . .
.

Well, it was nicer to look at than the pictures she'd seen of naked
guys.  She had none now, sadly -- a friend of hers got her some before
the move, but they'd been lost.  Probably, mom or dad noticed and
tossed them out, then didn't say anything!

Lauren went to her room, closed and locked the door, and took her
clothes off.  Every last thing, until she was naked.

I'm not going to think about my brother, she thought.  "But oh, I love
seeing a naked boy."

She did this sort of thing often enough.  Not peeking at her brother,
the getting naked in her room thing.  Then she touched herself,
stroking softly, neck, breasts, middle, pussy for a minute, down her
legs as she bent over.

"It's kind of like exercise," she said, to no one visible in her room.

Part of her wanted to open the door, let her brother see her doing
this.  Or even better, rush to his room naked and see what would
happen.

But he's my brother.  I wish he wasn't, he looks so fine.  Just some
nice looking boy to look at naked, even touch maybe.  Like that
Brandon.

Lauren had kissed a boy before.  It was a silly thing, kissing Willy
-- a name that always made her laugh -- goodbye and letting her tongue
come out.  But ever since moving, she'd been thinking about sex.

Well, maybe it started before that.  But after the scare about the
ghost, which no one could see, and no one else believed in, something
changed.

"I'm the only one who can see things anyway.  So I'm crazy, I don't
care.  If I'm talking to myself, I'm crazy.  But I'm a hot crazy
chick!" she said to the image of herself in the mirror.

She watched herself, pretending that the hands she saw touching her
belonged to someone else.  Stroking her breasts, making her nipples
grow big and hard, then moving down.  To her favorite place to touch. 
She lingered there, her fingers moving rapidly, tapping and rubbing,
pulling, teasing herself.

"My very own porn movie, starring me," she said to her self in the
mirror.

She fell asleep, naked on her bed.  If there was anyone in her room,
even at her window, he'd gotten a really exciting show.  She'd touched
herself, made herself come over and over.  She didn't say Kyle's name,
but the image of his naked buttocks filled her fantasies.


===

Halloween afternoon, a chilly October day, and Lauren was in her room
stark naked again.  She'd seen Kyle naked, again.  He'd left his door
ajar, again.

It bugged her.  But if she said anything, it would let him, and maybe
her parents, know that she'd paid attention to it.  As if she really
cared to see her brother naked!

Brandon, on the other hand.  Tonight would be almost like a date.  Oh,
they'd have the little kids out trick-or-treating along, but she'd be
with him, they'd talk, and just maybe they'd get together after.

She lay naked, touching herself, thinking about her date.  And her
brother's naked body.

Not about Kyle himself.  Nope, just the way his butt looked, bare from
behind.  If Kyle knew, well, she wasn't going to risk that.  He was
old enough to notice girls, and every now and again she noticed him
looking at her.  Her breasts, mostly, especially when she was in her
PJs.  No bra, then, so they bounced easily.

No bra now, she was naked.  She liked the big mirror.  She could see
herself from the bed.

She mauled her breasts, then her pussy. Hard touches at first, then
gentler. Closed her eyes, lost in sensation, trying to, well, to get
off, get past these confusing feelings.

"I'll need to take a shower, now that I'm relaxed," she said out loud
when she was done.

The breeze picked up, flowing across her, caressing her wet pussy. 

"That feels nice," she said.  It was almost like being touched.  The
wind just rubbed her perfectly.

She grabbed her towel, wrapped it around her.  Unlike her brother, she
wasn't going to give anyone a free show.  But neither did she want to
cover up entirely in her robe.  The towel barely covered her bottom,
and she pulled it up tight enough that it was hard to say whether it
was thighs or cheeks showing from behind.

Kyle, though, was clueless in his room.  She didn't even see him as
she passed.  Just as well, sure, but sometimes she wondered about him. 
He was so casually teasing her with his nudity, so why didn't he do
anything about hers?  She did this more often now, almost showing
something. It worried her.

But then again, she knew why.  She was horny.  Maybe, just maybe,
she'd get Brandon to be her boyfriend.  Well, not for sex, not yet. 
But just kissing, maybe . . .

Well, maybe looking at something -- their private somethings -- and
making out, a bit of touching in the right places.  She was old enough
for that.  If he was as nice as he seemed at school, and he definitely
looked hot enough, who knew what might happen?

In the shower, she thought again about the ghost.

It is just the wind.  Dad always says stuff like that.  Then, when I
told Mom that the dishes were moving on the table, she looked at me
like I was crazy.

Nobody else saw it, and we were all at the dinner table.  Just me.

Anyway, if it is just my imagination, I love how it makes me feel. 
Hmm, invisible ghost touching me, playing with me, kissing me with his
breath.

The hot shower felt close, confined, the water caressing her body. 
The stream bounced on her breasts, tingling everywhere, catching her
nipples.  She leaned back, and it bent down to wash her sex-wet pussy.

Was it imagination?  Lauren didn't care, it felt too good.  She was
touching herself, but the water was cooperating perfectly.

Back in her room, she said, out loud yet again, "How many times was
that today?"

Orgasms, she thought.  Well, the thought was like someone else said
it, asking.  But she was alone, so it had to be her thinking it.

Kyle teased her about talking to herself, but she was sure he hadn't
said a thing to her parents about it.  Especially, about when she
talked about sex.

Well, he is my brother, so I suppose thinking about his sister and sex
just is too gross to consider.  I think about his body, that isn't the
same thing, Lauren thought.

"Tonight, maybe, I can get someone real to touch me!"

Brandon was probably a virgin too.  It was too much to expect him to
just sweep her off her feet with love and lust.  Not like in her
romance books.  Boys, at least the ones in her high school classes,
just weren't that sophisticated.

You couldn't trust them, either.  She knew all the stories about other
girls who had sex, and as much as she wanted to have a boy to do it
with, it wasn't worth that.

It wasn't fair, not at all.  She wouldn't tell anyone what she did
with a boy.

"I'm going to need to do it, once more.  Real quick, I don't want to
be late."

Lauren no longer cared that she said things out loud, to nobody anyone
could see.  It was a habit, started three months back when she moved
in here.  After her Dad convinced her that the ghost wasn't real, she
quit being terrified by it.  Talking back to it was her way to cope
with something exotic.

Weird.

Crazy.

Strange.

Sexy.

Because if there was a ghost, and it was a man -- she thought it was,
not a sexy female witch, but a handsome strong man -- he was seeing
her naked, seeing her touch herself, seeing everything.

Maybe that was what made her so horny all the time?

She got out her black silky panties.  Translucent, lacy.  Too sexy for
a girl her age.

She was going to wear them tonight.  For the very first time.

No one knew she had them.  Her mom never would buy anything like that
for her.

No one else had either.  She'd swiped them, pulled them out of the
package at the store.  She felt guilty about that.  Unlike some girls
she heard about, she wasn't into shoplifting.  It had been totally
easy to do.

First, though . . .

She put her towel on, just that, and held it around her as she walked
out of her room.

Kyle had his door open this time, and watched her walk past.

What if I dropped it as I went past?  Lauren thought.  That would
serve him right, for flashing me like he does.

But she didn't do it.  Nor did her brother even get up, or do anything
at all.  As if she wasn't there, not worth noticing.

Any other day, she'd be OK with that.  She thought, I don't really
want him to want to look at me.  I really, totally don't want him to
want to touch me.  So why am I thinking about showing him anything? 
Why do I care?

In the bathroom, she washed off her pussy.  It wasn't much help.  She
didn't want to go out on a date smelling of wet pussy, but the
dampness on the outside wasn't the problem.  It was inside her, and
she couldn't wash that away.  She jumped in the shower, turned it on
cold.

That didn't help either.  In fact, it was stimulating, and she turned
it off, then back on warm to rinse off.  She was feeling desperate,
wanting something more than just her fingers touching herself.

But she could touch herself hard enough, deep enough to slow it down. 
Not too deep -- she didn't want to break anything, and she was still a
virgin -- but close enough to feel, well, almost like it was
happening.  She made it happen again, imagining actually doing it, for
real, for the first time, while she touched the place where the boy
would be inside her.

Back in her room, she started to get dressed.  "I like Brandon, but if
I feel like a bitch in heat, things will go too far.  I needed to do
this, really I did."

She shook, and her breasts bounced in the mirror.

She picked her bra up.  It wasn't sexy, unlike her panties.  It wasn't
even black.  If Brandon saw her in it, he'd think she was just a
boring non-sexy girl.

So she put it back into her drawer.  With her outfit, she wouldn't
have to wear it anyway.

Her black witch's robe covered her pretty well.  All those folds hid
her shape.  It wasn't just a simple tied robe, it had lots of latches
to make sure it wouldn't pop open. So her parents wouldn't notice,
right?

She was sure they wouldn't. 

It felt silky, soft.  She pulled it tight, and then she could see the
shape of everything.  Even those nipples poking.  With Brandon, she
could do this, see if it got his attention, and pretend it was just
the cold.  Part of the costume, not how she was every day.

"If I left the panties off, it would be even more obvious."

The robe wasn't that long.  The wind would blow it up, and anyone
around would see everything.

Even panties.

Well, that was a nice idea, but it was too scary.  She had a nice
black skirt.  She'd wear that, but no stockings.  Her bare legs would
be chilly, but she liked being touched there, and . . .

Something touched her, by her ankle.  It was sort of like a cat. 

She didn't have a cat.

No one was around.  This happened a few times before.  It didn't hurt. 
Did it matter if a ghost touched her?  Dad said it was just the wind,
but it felt a bit more directed than random.

She put her skirt on, then the panties.

Black socks, black boots.  She looked like a sexy witch.  Now, for the
last touches.

Lipstick.

She was going to wear black.  She'd got that from Ashley.  But the
tube rolled away, onto the floor, under the bed, slipping from her
fingers.

If she wasn't crazy, she'd have said that something pulled it from
her.  As it was, she no longer cared why it happened.

"I'd forgotted about this," she said, cringing a little, feeling silly
about saying that word wrong.  Especially out loud, even if there was
no one to hear it.

She'd found a little jewelry box in the yard, buried, not deep, by the
old oak tree, shortly after they'd moved in.  It was locked, rusty,
and looked pretty junky.  But there was some stuff in it which looked
interesting, probably silver, maybe even real gold.  She'd never told
her parents about it.

She pulled it out.  Popped it open, looked in it.

The necklace.

It was a simple pendant.  A gold star, with something like amber in
the middle.  It looked old, strange.  Like a witch should wear.

She put it on.

"I am the greatest witch ever!" she said.

Nothing happened.  If there was a magic ghost around, shouldn't
something happen?

Well, it was fun to pretend, wasn't it?  "Reality is overrated
anyway."

She couldn't find the lipstick, though.

It was gone.

She had dust bunnies under the bed.  They moved around, wiggling.

If she wasn't crazy, she'd have screamed.  But it was just the wind,
the house settling.  Or something explainable.  Anyway, it was nothing
to be scared of.

Not for her, anyway.

Her parents didn't believe in them.  She'd tried to show Kyle, but he
didn't seem them.  So obviously, they weren't real.  Right?

Anyway, she had to get dressed.  Time to go!

Hmm, there's the lipstick, on the dresser.

OK, it wasn't the same.  It was a sweeter, richer purple, dark but not
black.  It did look sexy on her.

"Just need the silly pointed hat.  I know, real witches didn't wear
them, but I don't want to be mistaken for something else."

Lauren left, excited about her first date in her new town.  A
Halloween date.

Her favorite holiday.  It should be perfect for her, dressed up like
she was.

==

Lauren came home late, and stormed into her room.  Her mom was up, but
she didn't even talk to her.

"Brandon is a jerk," she said.  Out loud, but softly, so as not to get
anyone else's attention.  Not outside her room.			

Boots off, socks off . . .

Lights off, this was time for bed, and she didn't want her mom to
check on her, wondering why she was still up.

She touched the silky panties.  She wore them, hoping that if things
worked right, Brandon would fall in love with her on seeing them.

"I didn't need to bother with them at all.  It was a waste.  I should
have swiped a vibrator!"

She didn't take them off, though.  She ran her fingers on sides, over
her pussy, then up underneath the cloth.

"What happened, Lauren?" a voice asked.  It was in her head, so Lauren
answered, quietly.

"Well, we had a boring time walking around with Brandon's little
brother.  Well, it was OK, really.  But it wasn't that exciting. 
Brandon barely talked with me.  So when we almost done, I pulled my
top tight.  He noticed that, my nipples were all hard from the cold."

"They still look hard."

"That's because I'm still so horny."

Lauren talked with herself all the time.  This time, though, the male
voice in her head -- often she talked to a boy inside herself --
sounded different.  She knew that some people, crazy people, heard
voices.  She didn't care, it was more fun than talking to nobody.

Sometimes, she thought it was someone else.  Someone real.  But no one
ever heard the voice, only her speaking.  Like the stuff moving.


Or the caressing wind.  It was brushing her legs, flowing up both of
them.  Like a pair of hands, touching her, stroking her.

She pushed her panties down.  Down quick, all the way off her feet.
This time, she was hoping for, well, something strange and wild.

They'd never touched her for long, or so hard, the magic winds.  It
was always fleeting.  Nice, but she still had to touch herself to make
it into something real.

It felt real now.

They were rising, up her inner thighs.  Around her pussy.

She saw her pubic hair ripple, as the delightful invisible touch
stroked her right there.  Right in the middle.  Exactly how she wanted
it.

She reached down, but there was nothing there.  Nothing except
herself, and...

Well, if there was someone really watching, he'd seen this before.  It
excited her, imagining an invisible lover watch her as she touched
herself, stroked herself. 

Made love to herself.

She stroked her breasts through the robe, but it wasn't quite good
enough.

"Brandon didn't even open it.  I wish it was the sort which just
popped open, like a real robe, but no, this one has little velcro
things to keep it in place.  My fault, that way I could control how it
opened or not, no worries about Mom or Dad seeing."

Lauren thought about being touched there.  Brandon did do that, and it
was heavenly.

"Well, not perfect.  He touched me, but it was sort of like groping
and grabbing.  Why didn't he just touch me lightly, like this?..."

Her hands flowed over her breasts.  Her nipples we again hard, and
each touch was thrilling.


She imagined him touching her there, on bare skin.  "Oh, if Brandon
could see me now, see my pussy.  He is really missing out, the jerk."

Lauren felt so sad suddenly, tears started to flow.

"It started so nice," she said.  "Well, it was sort of boring, hanging
around with him and his little brother.  But at the end, I finally got
his attention.  I made him notice, he couldn't help staring at them. 
Then he kissed me."

She stroked her breasts again, pulling on her hard nipples.

"That was nice.  But then, he just grabbed me.  And that was all, it
was over.  I wanted to be, well, I wanted to be happy and like it, but
I couldn't.  It just didn't feel right."

The invisible voice, inside her head, said,"Just relax, let me make
you feel better.  You deserve it, especially on this night."

The voice was soft, almost whispering. Husky.  Sensual.

It wasn't real, or at least, it was just her thoughts.  Funny, though,
how they sounded.  She thought, I can hear them, they are in my head,
but it is like it really is someone else.

It wasn't sound.

But what about the touches?

Something pressed lightly on her pussy, petting, stroking.  Caressing
her, exciting her.  The lightest of contacts brushed her clit, her
bare wet clit, exposed and ready for everything.  She was so aroused,
so in need of more.

Lauren undid her robe, sliding it open, then off.  Now she was totally
naked.

Touching herself.  Everywhere, rubbing her arms across each other,
down her sides, pulling on her nipples.

Stroking her pussy.

While something unimaginable kept touching her there, even when her
fingers were elsewhere.

How can I imagine being touched, and it feeling so real? she thought.
wondering to herself.

"It is real," the unseen voice said.

"That's nice," Lauren answered.

Whatever it was, it was nothing to be afraid of.  She thought that she
should be, that any normal girl would be terrified to have something
invisible playing with her.  Making her so . . .

"Do it faster, please?" she said, interrupting her own thoughts.

It was like nothing she'd felt before.  Like kissing with Brandon and
his playing with her tits, and every time she'd ever touched herself,
but amplified a million times.  It was more than mere touching, her
sex was being handled, pulled, rubbed, and sucked in by something soft
and shivery.  Not cold, not hot, not hard, yet oddly alive. 

Like a breath, except that it was much stronger.  Softer than any
tongue, but touching her in the way she imagined that a lover's tongue
would.

Fast, hard, consuming her, driving her to a peak of delight.

Her first orgasm ever which wasn't entirely due to her own effort.

More than an orgasm.

A flash of light, a spark of love, a wash of passion.  For a few
minutes, she felt this sweep over her.  Something held her, enveloped
her.  Her pussy was never untouched, held and caressed, her clit
engulfed in something sweetly hot, making it tingle and twist. 

Lauren lay unmoving, exhausted with passion, when the touch finally
faded.

"That was really something," she said when she finally recovered. 
"But I wish that you were real."

"But I am real."

"I mean, like a real person."

"What do you mean exactly?"

"You know, a man that I can see, and touch?  I've never actually seen
a naked man.  I wish, well, I should have asked Brandon to show it to
me.  Even if I had to touch it, that would be OK."

The voice said, laughing with happiness, "I can see, yes, you are a
very good girl.  You'll be a fine witch someday."

"Is that what you are?  I thought you were a ghost, a ghost of a
witch?  But isn't that a woman?"

"No, men can be witches too."

"Oh."

Lauren thought about covering up.  She'd thought of her invisible,
almost imaginary lover as male, but if it was a real witch, then she'd
been doing it with a girl.  Which was just fine as long as it was a
ghost, that surely couldn't count.  She was still interested in boys,
right?

"I'm being silly," she said.  "You've seen me naked lots of times.  I
don't mind that.  Does it excite  you to see me naked?  Am I lovely?"

"You are perfect, and very special to me."

"I still wish that you were real."

Lauren wasn't sure what she meant by that.  Ghosts weren't real,
everyone knew that.  So even if she did see one, that didn't mean it
was real.  She was just crazy.  Well, in need of psychiatric help, at
least.  But it felt so real, and it felt too good to ignore.

Way too good to give up, wherever it came from.

She shivered.  This should be scary.  If Ashley were around, she'd be
screaming like a girl in a horror movie.  Even Kyle would freak out.

Well, maybe not.  A ghostly blow job would probably be good for him. 
But he probably would just chill up and die, frightened to death.  He
doesn't think this sort of thing can be real.  He didn't even see it
when the stuff moved on my dresser, and he was looking right at it.

The voice spoke to her.  It was a little deeper, a little louder.  It
still excited her, but it felt somehow more real to her.  Still not
sound, but more substantial.

"Lauren, I can't yet make myself alive, really there physically.  But
I think that if you try, you could help me, make it so that you could
see me.  I think you'd like that."

"Are you naked?" Lauren asked.  Ghosts seemed to wear sheets or old
clothing in movies, but if he was going to show up as her lover, she
wanted to see him naked.

She imagined someone sort of like Brandon, sexy and blonde and kind of
built.  She avoided thinking of Kyle, because while she hoped that
he'd look at least as nice, it bothered her to think of her brother,
naked, as a model for her lover.

Lover?

"Are you my lover?"

"I will be what you need me to be," the voice said.  "Tonight, you
need someone to make you feel better.  I love you, and I'll be what
you need.  This is such a special night, you know about that?"

"Yes. I mean, on this night, the dead can come back.  Even if it is
just for one night."

"I knew that you were the one.  That is why I picked you."  The voice
sounded extremely pleased.

"Why me?" Lauren asked.

She shivered again.  It was strange.  It felt unreal.  Not like a
dream, but not like it was real life either.  To call it magical would
be obvious, and inexact.  Palpable anticipation, she thought. 

Because she didn't care if it was real or not.  In fact, dream,
fantasy, or delusion, it looked like she was about to get her deepest
wish fulfilled.  A dreamy lover, a lover from a dream, a guy who would
sweep her off her feet -- she was laying down but she still didn't
feel like getting up, and that was just from a light invisible,
insubstantial ghostly touch.  What would a substantial, naked handsome
boy ghost do for her?

"You feel it.  You can see and feel me, and it doesn't hurt you.  You
feel my desire.  You know your own.  Few people can do that.  I've
waited so very long for someone who could be here with me.  So many
lonely Halloween nights, with no one at all, or those who ran in
terror rather than embracing me."

Lauren said, "I barely touched you.  You're the one who held me."

"You want to touch me?"

"Yes, more than anything.  I want to see you and touch you, and make
love with you."

Lauren sat up, her breasts jiggling.  She wondered if he was turned
on, looking at her naked.

"I love seeing you.  I hope you don't mind?"

She wondered how much the ghost knew, did it feel her thoughts?  That
idea was exciting too, showing off her insides as well as outsides.

"No, I like showing off.  I'd do it for others, even Kyle, if he
wouldn't be a jerk about it.  I wanted, well, you know, to show
Brandon it.  My pussy, everything.  My sexy panties.  Were they nice?"

"If I was a boy again, I'd adore you for wearing them for me.  You
looked so tasty."

"I wish you could kiss me."

The voice said, "Touch yourself, imagine me.  Wish for me to be with
you.  I want you, I need you to want me, to want me to be with you."

"That isn't too hard," Lauren said.

"No," the voice said.  "Not for you.  You are the one, you can do it
for me."

This time, nothing unseen touched her.  She wished for that touch,
wished for him to be with her, on her bed, touching her, holding her. 
Making love to her.

He cares for me, she thought.  It isn't just lust.  He touched me to
make me feel better, and boy did he ever make me feel better.  Better
than anything!

Like touching someone else, that was a new thing.  She shivered, felt
her hands move against her body, but the pleasure was somehow drained
away.  No, drawn away.  Like making love to another girl, touching
her, even though it was her own body.

It felt weird, and she tried harder to make it feel real again.

I should stop, I should run.  This isn't supposed to be, this isn't
normal.

But she thought this and stayed, kept on going.

Imagining a boy, a real boy, a lover.  No, a man.  How old was he
anyway?

Something touched her.  It was dark, but there was an even darker
shadow across her bed.

"Please," she said, "come to me.  I want you to be here with me, I
want to feel you.  I want to see you."

"You can do it," the voice said.  "Don't stop, you're doing it." 

The voice drifted out of her.  It wasn't in her head, but it wasn't
exactly like real.  Not sound, anyway. 

She closed her eyes, and felt herself again.  Her touch was doing it,
making him come.

Making her come.

"Unreal!" she screamed, as an orgasm exploded somewhere outside her
body.  The sensation flooded back into her, filling her with life and
pleasure. 

It was her second best orgasm ever, and the best she'd ever done
entirely to herself.  She wasn't sure that it counted as being
entirely on her own, because of the spirit and magic thing going on,
but whatever it was, it was very good.

"This is wonderful," Lauren said.

"You're wonderful," the voice said.  This time, it was clearly in the
room, and almost like real sound -- it sounded like a real man.  Or
boy.

Lauren opened her eyes.  There was someone there, in the room, by her
bed.

But it was dark. 

"I wish I could see you better."

"Turn on the light."

"Doesn't that make ghosts disappear?"

"No, silly.  That is just in movies.  Not even all of them, remember?"

"Oh." 

Lauren moved to get up out of the bed, but felt something press on her
chest.

"Stop!  You can turn on the light without getting up."

"How?  I mean, I can?  I mean, I don't know what I mean."  Lauren
said, giggling at the end.

"Think about it, move the switch, wish for it to happen."

"I suppose, I guess I can try that."

In a dream, things would happen easily, just how she wanted.  It felt
like she could do anything, be anything. 

Nothing happened.

"You can do it, just relax, believe, concentrate."

She felt a hand - his hand -- on her breast.  Holding it, covering one
nipple.  His hand was cool and soft, not warm.  It wasn't cold, it
just didn't feel quite like a real boy. 

But it felt nice, really nice.

Lauren thought of the switch, how she walked to it to turn on the
light.  It just moved, not hard, you didn't have to push hard at all
to make it go on.

On.

Lights on!

The lights were ON!  Lauren's surprise at the impossible magic was
pushed aside by the nicer surprise of seeing her lover, actually
seeing him by her bed.

"You don't look like I imagined you," Lauren said, surprised.  He was
nice looking, in a boyish sort of way.  But unlike Brandon, his hair
was curled, and his eyes were dark.  He was naked, though, and she let
her eyes fall down on his penis.

Dick.  A hard one.  Very nice to look at.  All of him was.  But he was
no one she'd seen or imagined before.

"Lauren," he said, "that is because I'm not imaginary."

Hearing that gave Lauren goose bumps, a chilly feeling passing through
her.  It was exciting, but a little frightening.  Because if it was
real, then . . .

In a dream, sometimes you realize that you're dreaming, she thought. 
But this is so strange.

"I don't care, I'm not afraid," Lauren said.  It was exciting, letting
her fear spur her arousal higher.  If it was real, it was beyond
anything she'd imagined yet, and if it was imaginary, well, it still
was better than any of her fantasies.

She reached to touch him, felt his chest.

"It's so smooth, soft.  It is, ah, I mean . . . "

"I'm not material, even though you can see and touch me.  But you
wanted to see me, so I did what I could."

She felt his skin, it was silky soft and cool, a shivery kind of
feeling.  Not cold, it wasn't the temperature -- that felt just fine
to her.  But nothing like touching a live person would be.

But to look at, damn, she thought, he does look fine.  She took her
eyes off his lower half, there would be plenty of time to look at that
again later. 

He was nice looking, but to her surprise, he wasn't anything like a
Greek statue, no Adonis in her bedroom, not even a pop star from TV. 
But he was in her room, naked, smiling, with sparkling dark eyes.

And he was hers.  She was sure of that part.  She'd wished for a boy,
one to treat her nice, and now she was going to get her wish.

It was still scary, but not in a spooky way.  It made her nervous, but
the idea of doing it, of really truly having it happen, was exciting.

Doing it with a ghost is kind of like doing it with a figment of my
imagination, Lauren thought.  No consequences, no worries about my
parents liking him or finding out.  And he is just so nice, so sweet,
so delightfully sexy, I couldn't wish for a better first time.

"You're not material, does that mean you're ethereal?" Lauren asked. 
Then she giggled.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"We're living in a material world, and you're an ethereal boy," Lauren
sang.  "I think Madonna would get a kick out of this situation."

He laughed.  It was a soft, sexy, deep laugh, and sounded strange
coming from a young man.

How old was he?  She thought about asking, but part of her didn't want
more conversation.  He looked older than her, but not really old. 
Grown up, but more like a college boy than someone really old, just
more mature than her classmates.

Lauren resumed touching him, exploring.  She let her hands roam
downward.  He looked aroused, excited, and she wondered what it would
be like to touch it.

"Is this OK?" she asked, as she shyly ran her fingers along his hard
shaft.

"That is just fine," he answered.

It felt odd, like his chest.  It looked right, but touching it brought
to mind the vibrator she'd seen, but not taken from the store.  It
wasn't like plastic, but neither was it like flesh.  It didn't feel
like her own skin.

But it looked right, and it was his, and seeing her hands around her
first real one was wonderful.

"Could you, you know, do it with me?  I mean, because you're not
exactly material?" Lauren asked.

"I can make love to you, in a way that no one else can.  I want to, I
know it will make you feel better.  Tonight, it will make you feel
better than you can possibly imagine."

"Do it!"

Lauren lay back.  Touching him was OK, but she sensed something
disturbing about it.  She was afraid to ask, but she didn't want to
ruin the moment.  It was as though he could look aroused, but he
couldn't feel it.  Like how ghosts might eat a meal, but never taste
it.  That was so sad, if it was true.  She could give Brandon a blow
job, and he'd enjoy it, but he never touched her like this boy did.

He wanted to do it with her, to make love to her just to please her. 
She was sure that she'd do that for someone she loved, even if she
could feel nothing herself.  That meant that he, her mysterious,
almost imaginary lover, truly did love her.

His hands stroked her sides, brushing their way up and down, slowly
drifting upward.

"Can you kiss me?" Lauren asked.

He bent over her, and she felt his lips touch hers.

No taste.  He had no flavor at all.  Touch, the sensation was like
brushing your lips on velvet, static charged sparks flying off.  Like
having a balloon pop, surprising her, right before she was about to
come.

It was her best kiss ever, and then, she felt his body covering hers. 
She reached up to hold them, as the kissed and caressed each other.

Touches and kisses, he had a magical touch.  The feeling down below,
his hardness touching her soft wetness, was driving her wild.  Would
he just do it, push, make it happen?  She wanted it, it would be just
fine for it to all happen now.

Over in a flash.

If it hurt, it was better if it happened that way.

She waited.

He moved his kissed downward.  On her neck, her shoulders, and up to
her . . .

"Wow!" she said, as he kissed her breasts, sucking on her nipples. 
She was panting, literally panting with desire.

It was too much, too good.  He was slow, and sweet, and every touch,
everywhere, was delight.

Downward, kisses touching, fingers roaming.

He hadn't brushed her pussy at all.

When he crossed her navel with kisses, she arched up, willing him to
move faster.  It was wonderful, but almost too intense to bear.

His hands caressed her legs, brushing just shy of her pussy.  Closer,
they were getting closer, as his lips approached from above.

I could just die, she thought, as his lips and fingers made contact,
right in the center of her pussy. 

She wrapped her legs around him, over him, squeezing.  He let her,
loving her pussy and driving her to the peak of pleasure.

It was the best orgasm ever, and she lost track of, well, everything.

He didn't abandon her, he kept on doing it, touching, licking,
kissing, pressing.  Holding her in a wave of desire, sucking on her
pussy lips, her clitoris, lapping at her vagina.

Even nibbling her thighs and pubes.

Then, he nibbled upwards, leaving her pussy untouched for a while. 
Until his body touched it, his leg, then as he reached her face once
again to kiss her lips, his hard, lovely, silky dick.

On her pussy.

Almost in it.

Her legs were wide, her feet holding onto him.  Surely he knew, she
was ready to really do it.

But he didn't.  Do it, she thought that he knew, but for some reason,
he didn't act.

He waited, just kissing her, holding himself right at her entrance.

She turned her head, just long enough to say, "It's OK, I want it,
please do it."

"You're a virgin."

"I don't care.  I won't be forever, so just do it.  Please, I need it. 
You said you'd do anything to please me."

She thought it would hurt.  She braced herself, anticipating that.  He
was so perfect, so magical, that it would be everything she ever hoped
for her very first time.  That is, exciting and pleasurable, worth the
pain.

Instead, it was as if there was no barrier at all.  He slid inside
her.  She felt her vagina fill, penetrated by something.  It felt
good, but somehow, she knew, her body knew.

It wasn't like having a real, live boy do it.

In, it felt so good going in.

Out, it was like little buzzing lightning bugs sliding around on her
pussy.

His body, his ethereal body, felt lighter, softer, while he did it
with her.  Making love with her, fucking her.

Somehow, it was more than just inside her pussy.  It was like
something was flowing over her, a blanket of sex, desire, passion,
touching her entire body.

It felt so perfect, so wonderful, so loving.

She didn't remember it ending.  It had to have, didn't it?  But it was
as though she and he came together, making love, an endless love,
culminating in a mind-blowing, dream-making orgasm.  They both went
off together, then fell asleep in each others arms.

-=====-

Lauren opened her eyes, disoriented, feeling very strange.

The room light was on, but it no longer brightened the room much.  The
sun was up.

She was under the sheets, curled up.  She felt oddly sticky, sweaty. 
As if she'd been working out really hard.

Naked.

She'd slept naked.

She remembered, what happened Halloween night.  First with her date
with Brandon.  Then afterwards.

In the light of day, she wondered.

She touched herself.  She felt sensitive and sore, as if someone had
been touching and rubbing her all night long.  Sticky, wet between her
legs, inside and out.

Well, she'd done that sometimes, made herself, and the bed, wet by her
own touches.  Not like this, she didn't think she'd ever gone so far
with it.  But last night was exceptional.

Real?

It was dreamy, like a dream, but it sure felt like it could be real. 
In daylight, it is hard to believe in ghosts, but . . .

She touched herself, rubbed her pussy.  She ran her fingers around her
vagina.  It was damp, still damp.  Or maybe it was just her morning
horniness.

To just push a finger inside, or two.  A simple thing, she did it
often enough.  But this time, it would answer something important. 
Because she knew, if it was real, if she'd really done it like she
dreamed, there would be a difference.

Two fingers, then three.  She felt resistance, they couldn't make it
inside.

She relaxed.

Maybe it wasn't only a dream, though?  It was very strange.

"What if Brandon, or someone, spiked that candy?  Or the soda?  Or
something?"

She'd never done drugs, so didn't know if that could do something like
this.  But she was pretty sure, as sure as she could be, that she
hadn't actually gone off foolishly and done it with Brandon.

As it was, she'd have to worry that he'd go off telling everyone about
touching her titties.  Why boys didn't call them breasts, sweet
breasts to suckle and love, she didn't know.

He did touch them, though.  It was OK.  Maybe next time, if she dared
try a next time with him, she'd tell him not to touch so hard.

"I better get a shower, though.  Otherwise, Mom might wonder if I
actually did do something with that boy last night."


In the shower, Lauren thought about her dream lover.  No real boy
would be so good.  That dream would fuel her fantasies for days, maybe
years.  Maybe more.  Just thinking about it made her excited, and she
touched herself, enjoying the flow of the water assisting her.

It was, that water, truly, behaving nicely for her.  The flow, random
and pulsing, wandered around.  In a new house, it wasn't supposed to
be uneven, but she'd never minded it.  What if it was acting by
design, not randomly at all? she wondered.

She shook with pleasure, unable to think more, as her fingers and the
water spray stimulated her.  It split apart, bouncing spray on her
breasts, her neck, and best of all, a lovely stream pulsing on her
clit, bringing her a marvelous, breathtaking standing orgasm.  She had
to sit, to recover from the pleasure.  The water spray widened, soft
and gentle, as she relaxed.

It didn't matter, she thought.  It has done this all the time we've
been here, and I'm just lucky that it acts like that.  Just chance,
just like the wind blowing the right way to touch me nicely.

Lauren got out of the shower, drying off.  She'd been in long enough
to make it all foggy, the mirror covered in mist.

"Too bad it was all a dream, I wouldn't mind doing it again like last
night."

Then she noticed it.

On the mirror.

The door was locked, wasn't it?

Check.  Yes, it looks looked.  Maybe someone could have opened it
anyway?

Kyle! Lauren thought in anger.  But how would he know?

In the mist on the mirror, drawn on it...

Freshly drawn.  As if someone had just run their finger across the
glass.

She read it, softly, out loud. 

"Lauren, it wasn't a dream."



--

				
Copyright by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph@hotmail.com) 2003.  Please don't
distribute in an altered form, with removal of any part of the story
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write to me at my email address shown above.

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