Ghost Story Read online

  I tell her, “Suck, baby.” I feel a very gentle suction as her lips tighten. Given the nature of her body, neither the pressure from her lips nor the suction are very strong. However, it is enough to get all of my seed into her mouth without wasting any.

  As I release Willy from the chokehold I have on him, Rebecca gently wraps both hands around him and gently licks up every little drop that he gives up as he slowly deflates. Her hands feel strange - insubstantial. Still, it feels nice on my cock.

  When she releases him, I lean in and kiss her lips gently. They don’t feel normal, but I’m not about to balk after she just swallowed all my cum. She stands up, and I walk out to the living room and retrieve her sheet from the loveseat. I lay it across the bed. Then I go take a leak. Fortunately Willy’s plumbing has switched over to water management pretty quickly.

  Then I pull my PJs back on, point to the sheet, and turn off the light. I crawl into bed and feel a slight movement on the mattress as I fall asleep.

  7 - Transformation

  I wake up with morning wood to find a dirty, but pretty, lean face studying my face. The face attached to a spectral body looks solid. Rebecca’s hair seems more ‘normal.’ There is a light in her warm, brown eyes that was missing when I first met her. She looks to be sitting cross-legged on the bed with excellent posture. I think she was waiting for me to wake up.

  “Good morning, Rebecca. How are you this morning?”

  She points to her tummy and then presses a fist into it.

  “You’re hungry again?”

  She nods.

  “Oh, jeez! I’ve created a monster.”

  She gives me a fierce look of indignation.

  I tell her, “Look, Rebecca. If you could interact with me like a living woman, I would have no issue feeding you. I’m afraid I’m going to rub myself raw keeping you fed.”

  She gives me a sad look and shrugs.

  “Good thing I woke up like this,” I tell her as I push my shorts down to reveal Willy. She gives me a big smile.

  So, I feed Rebecca. Then I get up to pee and get dressed for the gym. I have an idea as I’m pulling on my shorts and loading a gym bag.

  I put Rebecca’s sheet in the dirty laundry and put a clean one over my desk chair. I pull up a Google search on ‘how to perform fellatio.’ I pull up a couple and select the ‘Live About’ web site as a primer.

  “Hey Rebecca, can you join me for a moment?”

  I look around and she’s standing right behind me.

  I stand and tell her, “Take a seat, sweetie.” She does. Then I show her the web site.

  She looks at me raptly as I tell her, “This is how you can help me feed you. This page shows how to use your mouth to give pleasure to a man. I don’t know if you can do this, but I could feel your mouth on me. Plus, you seem to be getting more solid. Maybe you will be able to do this over time.”

  She looks at the page and then back to me with a tentative smile. I show her how to use the mouse on the computer to move the page up and down. She figures that out pretty quickly.

  Using the mouse to go back to the search and to click a link is more problematic. Clicking is a problem because her finger bends around the mouse when she presses unless she has it pointing down exactly perpendicular to the mouse. She can scroll up and down relatively easily by dragging two fingers on the top of the magic mouse - it requires much less pressure. I pull open a blank document and have Rebecca try the keyboard. She struggles with the letter placement, which makes sense given typewriters were only invented about 10 years before she was born. She has only slightly less difficulty with the keys on the keyboard than she does with the mouse. I click back on the browser ‘Live About’ web site and scroll back to the top.

  “I am going to the gym to exercise. I will be back in a couple of hours, and I plan to spend the rest of the day here.”

  She nods her understanding. I kiss her cheek and grab my bag. As I pull the door closed, she is reading the screen. I lock the door and head for my car.

  * * *

  Rebecca watches Will leave, holding a hand where his lips touched her face. “He kissed me! Not in a moment of passion. He intentionally kissed me! Figures! I’m a 145 year old ghost of my 17-year old self, and I finally find a man that likes me. Maybe I should read these gurgle pages Will has up on the...screen? Yes. I read on the ‘screen.’ I move things on the screen with the ‘mouse,’ and I put characters on the screen with the ‘keyboard.’ This screen is amazing. I wonder what the rest of the world is like.’ Rebecca reads the Live About article. “Hmmm...this is interesting.”

  * * *

  I spend about 45 minutes doing strength training. The heavy bags are all occupied when I’m done, so I hit the pool for a set of sprints. I run into Gerry as I’m walking out, and we catch up for a few minutes. Then I drive to the Apple Pan for a big breakfast. It’s late enough that I don’t have any problem with the tourists hogging all of the tables. After breakfast I run over to Walmart and pick up a toaster oven, then I go to Sprouts for a couple more items of groceries. Keeping in mind my lack of an oven larger than a toaster oven and the small fridge, I make my selections and get out with only minimal chat with the cashier. I grab a Starbucks across the parking lot, and then drive home.

  I juggle the gym bag, the grocery bag, and the cup of coffee to unlock the door. Rebecca isn’t visible when I walk in. I set down my coffee on the end table, toss the gym bag onto the loveseat, and then carry the groceries to the kitchen. I put them away and go back for the toaster oven.

  I set up the toaster oven. It has a perfectly sized little baking sheet with it. Then I take the box out back to the dumpster.

  I pour another glass of water and set it on my computer desk. I pull the sheet off the chair and put it on the loveseat for Rebecca before I sit down in front of my computer. That’s when I notice a document on the screen.

  hello will,

  rebecca here. finished article. putting letters on screen is hard.

  fellatio sounds fun.

  hungry.

  r.

  I chuckle. I call out, “Rebecca. Lunch is ready!”

  I feel arms around me and hair tickling my face as I see Rebecca’s face appear next to mine. She plants a kiss on my cheek before releasing me from her hug. She stands and beckons me as she backs toward the bedroom.

  “Oh! Making a game out of mealtime, Rebecca?” I can see her laughter and hear it throughout the room like a brook tinkling over rocks. I follow her into the bedroom as I pull off my shirt.

  I find Rebecca is sitting cross-legged on the bed. I strip quickly and crawl onto the bed. I cup her face and kiss her lips. I tell her, “Rebecca, you seem to be a lot of fun as a person. I wish I had known you when you were alive.”

  “Me, too.” Her voice sounds like it is coming from her rather than a disembodied voice in the room. That’s new. She caresses my face. “Want this.” She kisses me back.

  I’m surprised. Her speech was clear. ‘Too’ doesn’t necessarily require teeth, but ‘this’ does. She didn’t have teeth before. I caress her face again as she pulls back from her kiss.

  I drop my hands as I kneel in front of her with my cock slowly starting to rise. I reach out and tickle her ribs, and she gasps in surprise and flinches away.

  I laugh as she points a finger at me and says, “Behave!” She is trying to look stern, but I can tell she is trying hard not to laugh.

  I lay down and get busy working to feed her. She maneuvers closer and licks me. She bats my hand out of the way and works on getting me aroused. Her technique is still fairly novice, but she is attentive and careful. What really does it for me is when she raises her eyes from her work to look at me while she works her mouth over my cock. She is generating more pressure with her mouth, but I sense she is fighting to get control over her body.

  Finally she kneels back and says, “Finish. Please.”

  I take matters into hand and eventually unload Rebeccca’s lunch into her mouth.

 
8 - Marissa

  Rebecca and I hung out the rest of the day. I fed her every couple of hours. I texted Michael about picking up his PA mid-afternoon. He texted back, ‘Keep it. I’m leaving town. Don’t know if I’ll ever come back. I have to get away from Sonya.’ After that, I called my sister, Alllison. She didn’t answer, but her husband, Roger, did. She was having a bad post-chemo day, but Roger committed to tell her I called.

  I fed Rebecca a couple more times that day and first thing Sunday morning. Sunday morning, I put my pistol and my phone into my small messenger bag I use for hiking. Then I locked up and walked over to check out progress on the job site.

  There was a pile of reclaimed lumber, and the walls of the original post-fire shack were exposed. The curtain walls were destroyed, but on the positive side all of the volunteer trees and bushes had been removed from where they had been growing through the rock. I expect Zach will build a ferro-concrete wall next week and then start embedding the stones into that wall. The stones are stacked on the sidewalk.

  Satisfied with progress per the plan, I took off to march up Carlton to Mt. Vernon. I walked all around the various hills of old town Prescott. I ended with a couple of brisk laps around the square and a coffee from Hotel Vendome’s coffee bar. I got a good workout before I went home, showered, and made breakfast. Scrambled eggs and a couple of frozen rolls baked in the toaster oven bedecked with butter, ham, and cheese made breakfast.

  * * *

  I am finishing up my dishes when I get a text from Marissa about 11:00. ‘Can I come over?’

  She’s never been over on a Sunday, but I figure why not. I text back, ‘Sure. 318 S. Cortez. Apt 13. Ground floor off the sidewalk.’

  I get a text within two minutes saying, ‘I’m here.’ Then there is a knock on the door.

  I charge and uncock my pistol. I leave it on the side table with the grip facing me before I answer the door.

  “Hello, Marissa. You are dressed to the nines, sweetheart. Come on in!” She walks past me as I watch the outside and then close and lock the door.

  I tell her, “Have a seat, Marissa.” She is dressed in a tasteful red floral wrap dress with a ribbon wrapped around her waist a couple times and tied into a perfect bow. Her hair is up with little curled tendrils framing her beautiful heart-shaped face. She has little white lace gloves on her hands, transparent white stockings on her legs, and white strap sandals on her feet.

  She sets her small clutch on the table, notices the pistol, and cocks an eye at me.

  “Interesting times,” I tell her. I pick up the weapon, clear it, and put the round back into the magazine before I safe and holster it.

  I go to the kitchen, set the holster on the counter, and fill a couple glasses of water. I turn to find Marissa standing nearby, knotting her fingers in front of her looking on the ground. Something is definitely wrong. Severely wrong. Marissa is one of the strongest, most confident women I know.

  Trying to break the ice, I try for a witty remark. “Sunday go-to-meetin’ clothes?”

  She looks up and notices the glass I’m extending to her as she releases the ghost of a smile.

  She takes a sip of water from the offered glass. I set mine on the counter. I take hers back and pull her to me. She hugs me as though her life depends on it. As she begins to release me I scoop her up into a bridal carry, walk to the loveseat, and sit down while holding her closely to me. We end up with Marissa sitting in my lap with her arms around my neck leaning into my right shoulder.

  “Marissa, whatever it is, it isn’t going to get any better if you hold onto it. Tell me what is going on, Sweetheart.”

  She nods into my shoulder and murmurs, “I have a girlfriend, Will.”

  I squeeze her closely, “I’m glad you have someone other than our infrequent booty calls, Marissa. I was just afraid someone had decided to marry you, and you wouldn’t be seeing me any longer.”

  She sits up and looks at me, but she keeps her arms loosely wrapped around my shoulders.

  “Her name is Carla Jackson. Will, I’ve been with her for two years. I fell hard for her when we met at a rodeo party in July a little over two years ago. I moved in with her immediately. She claimed she’s bi, too. I asked her about finding a man we could share, but she wasn’t interested. She said, ‘I’m on the road all the time for work. Play around while I’m gone, and don’t come back with a disease. I don’t need to know about it.’ So, that’s what I’ve done. A different guy from the gym periodically - I’d work out with them for a few weeks. When the itch got too strong I would jump them. Carla called it my ‘catch-and-release program.’ It worked great until I met you.”

  I kiss her gently and sit back waiting for her to continue. Finally, she does. “The Friday before I asked you to take me home I found a lump in my breast. I sell medical supplies, so I used my connections to get into the doctor that day. She took a needle biopsy and sent me off for imaging and lab work. A couple of days later, the doctor calls me personally and confirms that it’s cancer and that I need to get at least a lumpectomy. She was still waiting on the imagery and lab work that day to determine how bad it would have to be. I called my girlfriend to tell her what was going on, but she hung up quickly without more than ‘I’m in an important meeting. I have to go.’ She never called me back. I was sitting in the hot tub chewing on her reaction when you walked in. I liked you all along and found you attractive, but her response to the call is what caused me to tell you I wanted to go home with you.”

  I kiss her cheek and hug her to me. That brings a smile, but she sobers again quickly. She gets up and retrieves her water. She takes a sip, sits back in my lap, and continues. “I went to the doctor the morning after our first time together for a pre-surgery conference and breast exam. They found nothing. No lump. She sent me for more images. Nothing. Four weeks later, Carla found a lump in the same spot as before. I felt it too. She flew out of town, and I went back to the doctor the next day. They took a needle biopsy. That night I came to visit you. When I went in for the MRI the day afterward, they found nothing. The doctor called and said the biopsy came back malignant. The lab work revealed tumor markers for the carcinoma found in the biopsy were rampant in my bloodstream.”

  “It’s great that it went away,” I enthused. “Your immune system supposedly does that all the time.”

  She shakes her head, “We retested immediately, and the tumor marker number dropped almost to zero.” She leans forward, “Will, in the nine months that I’ve been seeing you, this has happened seven times. I mentioned it to Carla, and she refers to you as ‘Mr. Chemo’ because every time I’ve had a lump, it disappears after having sex with you.”

  “What? Seriously, that can’t be right,” I reply.

  “Yes, Will. I kept notes after the second time,” she says.

  “Well shit,” I respond. “They keep coming back? How do we stop that from happening?”

  Marissa gasps. Slowly she gives me the first genuine smile since she walked in the door. “You are the ONLY person that has asked that question! Not Carla. Not the doctor. No one. And you’re the one benefitting from it.”

  I lean forward and hold her hand, “Marissa, I care too much about you to take advantage. In the last nine months we’ve had wild sex, what ten or eleven times.”

  “Eleven,” she says with a smirk.

  I stick my tongue out at her in the most adult manner possible before saying, “What I’m saying is I don’t have sex randomly, and I don’t have sex with a woman eleven times without building a connection. I care for you, and I want you healthy and happy!”

  “I’ve got another one today, Will. Can you dose me up?” she asks with a very tentative smile.

  “Sure, honey. But we need to talk some more first. Okay?”

  She nods, and I continue. “I also have a girlfriend. Actually, I probably have two now that I think about it. Let me introduce you to the one living here.” Marissa’s eyes get big as I call out, “Rebecca, would you join us please.”

 
Rebecca appears in the corner by my desk. Her face, hair, and shoulders all seem more solid than the rest of her diaphanous body. Still she looks dirty and malnourished. “Marissa, first I would like to introduce you to Rebecca. I was right about having a ghost. Rebecca died at the age of 17 in 1891. Apparently, she was locked in the cellar of this property and left to starve to death, which she did. She discovered that my semen makes her stronger. She is just starting to be able to talk.” Marissa whips her gaze from the improbable sight of Rebecca to my face. Marissa makes a couple of circuits looking at each of us until she finally settles on Rebecca.

  Rebecca holds her gown out and curtsies toward Marissa. She says, “Hel-lo. Ma-ris-sa. Pleased. To meet. You.”

  Marissa gasps before responding. “Hello, Rebecca. I don’t know any other ghosts. I am not sure how to react.”

  Rebecca says slowly and hopefully, “Like friend? Will is my only friend.”

  Marissa smiles at her. She responds, “Sounds good, Rebecca. I like eating Will’s semen, too. At least we have something in common.”

  Rebecca puts her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

  Marissa says, “No need, sweetie. I have no claims on him. I probably should address that. He treats me better than my girlfriend. I suspect he wouldn’t mind me keeping a girlfriend either.”

  “You’re right,” I tell her. “Anyway, Rebecca discovered she likes eating my semen after my girlfriend from Phoenix called. Her name is Audrey, and she’s a twenty-year old student at Grand Canyon University. We had talked on the phone Friday afternoon, and I told her I would be in Phoenix in two weeks for several days. I asked if she would stay with me at my hotel. Apparently she was so excited by the prospect that she called back hours later asking for phone sex because she was so wound up. The resulting mess went onto Rebecca’s sheet that I keep on the loveseat, so she could avoid sliming it again.” I point to the sheet on the loveseat.