Ghost Story

Ghost Story

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

A woman has an erotic paranormal adventure when she moves into a new apartment after breaking up with her boyfriend.

Summary

A woman has an erotic paranormal adventure when she moves into a new apartment after breaking up with her boyfriend.

Content

Submitted: November 02, 2015

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Content

Submitted: November 02, 2015

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Things hadn't been right since she moved in.

She growled under her breath as she reached for her comb only to find it missing. She quickly searched the entire bathroom, everywhere it could have gone, only to turn up empty. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned around, only to find her comb sitting on the counter top in plain sight.

It was subtle at first. Things disappearing, or being moved from where she placed them, only to turn up back if she turned her back on the room. At first she had thought she was losing her mind, that her brake up with Mike had pushed her over the edge into full blown insanity. But she knew things had moved, just like she knew that the comb hadn't been on the counter top a second before.

The sounds had started next. Bumps in the night, the sounds like someone was walking around her apartment. She had called the cops twice, only to have nothing show up when they arrived, leaving her feeling violated and foolish.

Then the whispering had started...

"Saaaarraaahhhhh.... Saaaarrrraaaaahhhh..." deathly quiet, so that she questioned at first if she had heard anything at all.

The sounds only came in the darkest hours of the night, and she had taken to sleeping with the lights on, not because it did any good, but because it gave her some ghost of security.

The bathroom was the worst by far. At first she had loved the place, the large claw foot behemoth of a tub and the ornate mirror had given her a pleasant feeling of antiquity. But it seemed to be a focal point for the activity. Objects would go missing here more often than anywhere else in the house.

The mirror was the worst.

Things moved in the mirror, things that should be still. More than once she had the uncanny sensation that her reflection was watching her, and she had screamed when it blinked.

But no one believed her. Her friends, what few of them Mike hadn't taken with him, chalked it up to the break up, saying that things would calm down soon when she felt better, and that she should go out with them more.

She had stopped answering her phone.

The whispers continued.

There was now a nearly unbroken stream of voices from the time the sun set to the time dawn broke, the whispering conversations completely unintelligible, interrupted only when she invited someone over.

She stopped inviting people over.

She wanted so badly to understand what the voices were saying, she had tried talking to them, pleading with them, yelling at them, screaming at them, nothing helped, nothing mattered. The whispers continued.

The touches came later. By this point she had gotten used to the voices, though she was sure at one point that they were talking about her. She had just fallen asleep when something woke her. At first she wasn't sure what it was, she glanced around the room, lit only by the lamp on her bedside table, and was greeted by nothing, in the background the whispers continued as they always did now. Then she felt it, the cold clammy touch of the grave, the slithering sensation of ice cold fingers trailing up her leg. They stopped when she screamed, which did nothing but cause her upstairs neighbors to pound on the floor again. But as time went on she got used to the touches as well. There was a pattern to them. She noticed that on nights where she was going to be touched the whispers would reach a disturbing crescendo, as though they were trying to warn her about what was coming. The touches never came when she was awake, they always waited until her exhaustion had claimed her.

Then it happened

She wasn't sure at first what had woken her, the whispers had reached a level she had never heard before and she had resigned herself to another night of bone chilling touches.

She struggled her way to consciousness, confused that the darkness didn't lift the way it always did when she opened her eyes. She realized with a spike of terror that the lamp on her bed was out, and the whispers had stopped.

Her room was in total silence, and in the chill october air, untouched by her heaters warmth, she heard the sound of another person breathing. She reached for the lamp by her bed but her fingers grasped only air. The cold clammy flesh of the hand she knew so well closed around her throat and she gasped in surprise. The cry that had been on her lips was choked into silence. She could see the outline of another person but she could do nothing, her mind to shocked to even resist his touch. She saw him lean over and gripped herself for the worst, only to feel the brush of another's lips against hers.

She lay in bed, paralyzed, as his other hand slipped down, ripping her covers off her bed and leaving her naked body exposed to the bone chilling air of her bedroom. Her nipples reacted first, standing erect and proud on her chest as a wave of goosebumps spread across her body. She had long ago started sleeping nude, since the touches were always on her skin no matter how much she wore, and she wished now that she had worn something to bed, her body laid out and exposed in the darkness. She felt his free hand slide down to grasp her breast, playing and teasing the already erect nipple to ever greater heights. She shuddered at his touch and felt her body start to react to the stimulation, it had been a long time since anyone had touched her this way and she hadn't realized how eager her body would be to have it again.

She tried to moan, but his hand still choked any response from her to silence. She could see nothing but the vague outline of a male figure standing above her in the darkness. The hand that was fondling her breast lifted, disappearing back into the darkness. For a moment nothing happened, then she felt something all to familiar press against the lips of her pussy. His cock was so much bigger than Mike's had been, dwarfing his pallid member, and it stretched out the walls of her pussy as it forced its way inside of her. The penetration complete the ghostly hand returned to her breast, using it now as leverage. His cock slammed against her and she managed to choke out a moan, the hand lifting from her throat and the sweet chill air flooded into her oxygen deprived lungs. She could feel the gentle pressure against her throat, as though a warning about what would happen if she resisted. She found now that she did not want to resist, her body had reacted to the presence of a cock inside of her and she was desperate for more. She spread her legs, inviting the presence deeper inside of her willing pussy. Her body shook and convulsed as she had the first orgasm she had experienced in months.

All of a sudden the presence above her vanished, dispersing into the air like the smoke of a midnight cigarette. She was left confused and aroused, her pussy aching for the presence of his cock again. She was only left waiting a moment as strong hands took her and flipped her over. She let out a surprised cry as he materialized beneath her and his hand immediately clamped over her mouth, silencing her before she had the chance to do much more than ghasp.

His cock trust again inside of her, filling her cunt with his spectral flesh. She felt her breasts press against his chest but even as close as they were she could see nothing but darkness beneath her.  One hand still covering her mouth his other grabbed a fist full of her hair, pulling her against him. Instead of resisting she pushed back against his cock as it rose to meet her aching cunt. The sounds of passion filled the room as he fucked her and she moaned into his hand. The bed shook and rocked, striking a staccato rhythm against the wall to the pace of their passion. She exploded again spraying her sheets as she came, her orgasm taking the breath from her lungs and the strength from her legs. He never slowed a beat when she came, his cock continuing to thrust up into her. Until he vanished again. This time she was ready for it and she caught herself as she sank into the bed where he had been a moment before. She looked wildly around the room, both terrified that he would appear and desperate that he do so. She had never been fucked like this before. So rough and passionate like wild animals.

She felt the bed sink in behind her as he rematerialized and she froze in position. Again his strong hands lifted her up off the bed this time lifting her onto all fours. One large, heavily muscled arm slipped around her neck as his cock slipped back inside of her wet desperate hole. She moaned loudly, grateful at the return of the throbbing member as it split her lips again. His pace was hurried and rough, with a sense of urgency to it. She could sense without being told that he was nearing his orgasm. He assaulted her pussy, slamming his cock into her from behind, each thrust forcing her hips down towards the mattress as they absorbed the force of his thrust before springing back up to meet his next. She felt him shudder and he pulled her body tight against his. She could feel his cock twitching and pulsing as though it were pumping her pussy full of cum, but nothing came out. She gasped and collapsed onto the bed as he released her, consciousness fading.

She woke with the first light of dawn, and glanced around her room. She was covered in her comforter and her lamp shone dimly in the morning light as though it had never been gone. As she glanced around her room everything looked to be in order.

Almost she wrote it off as a dream, until she moved and the dull ache radiated from her pussy, the kind of pain that comes only from hard use, and she knew that the night before had really happened. What she wasn't sure of was if it would ever happen again, or if she would be upset if it did...

 

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