Feature Writer: Harry Lime
Feature Title: But I Don’t Want to Be a Ghost
Copyright: Copyright© 2014 by Harry Lime
Synopsis: The choice of being a ghost was not hers to make. So she just had to make the best of things and hope for the new outlook on her plane of existence to pull her through.
Warning: This Erotic Sex Story contains strong sexual content
Story Codes: Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Horror, Paranormal, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism.
But I Don’t Want to Be a Ghost
Amy Lickbottom was teased mercilessly about the erotic flavor of her last name. She knew her parents were quite proud of their heritage and she kept the name even though she was the butt of nasty remarks wherever she went. Even her passive boyfriend Herman joked about pulling her panties down to see if she could live up to her name. She pretended to be aghast but in all honesty she would have liked Herman to be a little more adventurous than he was in reality.
At the time that she decided to board the bus at the corner of Eighth Avenue and Fourteenth Street she had yet to have her heart-shaped ass properly licked to her satisfaction. She sat her rump down into the seat feeling that it would be better protected against those nasty boys who made a game of squeezing girl’s bottoms right out in public. Unfortunately, the water main break on Twenty-Third Street opened up the pavement and swallowed the entire bus with a single gulp that astonished all within viewing distance.
After all the ambulances and the fire trucks had left, a forlorn Amy sat on top of the fire hydrant sticking out from the First National Bank looking confused and uncertain why they didn’t do anything to help her in her plight. In fact, it was as if she was completely invisible to all around her.
She heard two old ladies talking about the accident and telling an enthralled young man that the amount of blood was astonishing. He seemed to be excited by the thought of bodies torn apart by the force of the accident and she noticed his “thing” was sticking out like a flag on a pole on a windy day. She hiked her skirt up to catch his eye and was miffed when he took no notice at all. It was at that point that she realized if nobody could see her, she must be a ghost.
The thought of being a ghost was extremely distressing to Amy because she emphatically refused to believe in such nonsense.
She reached down and pinched her nipple and the sudden tingle sent a shiver up her spine. Well, at least she wasn’t a ghost to herself. Not if she had sensitive feelings of an erotic nature. Amy got up off the hydrant and walked over to the young man taking his business in both hands and fondling him with gentle strokes. She could feel the ridges and the stiffness of his shaft but it was obvious he was totally unaware of her manipulations. Well, that was good for her but a shame for him because he was missing out on her skilled ability to arouse male equipment with her skilled palms and inquisitive fingers.
The poor young man knew he was getting aroused for some unknown reason and he was right on the verge of shooting his copious load right inside his sharply pressed trousers. He was certain it had nothing to do with the two old ladies because they were both old enough to be his grandmother. Still, he knew that familiar feeling of reaching a point of no return and turned from them so they would not see the shame of him wetting his underpants and the front of his expensive business suit. He place his newspaper in front of him and hailed a cab to return home and change before heading into his place of work with a cum-load inside his clothing.
For no other reason than she had nothing better to do, the ghost of Amy Lickbottom followed the young man to his nearby apartment and watched as he changed out of his cum-soaked jockey shorts in a pair of clean fresh ones. She approved of his length and girth and decided that his cute backside was just right for pounding her senseless into a mattress or a convenient table top. She wanted to push her finger into his tiny pucker but restrained from doing so because she was afraid it might cause him to become suspicious of her presence.
When they exited the apartment, the young man whose name was Jeffrey White from the mailbox in the lobby walked brusquely to the office building right on the corner near the accident. She saw that he took the elevator to the tenth floor and that entire tenth floor belonged to the Wall Street brokerage house that she had her 401k invested with. For a moment, she was concerned with the fact that she had never written a will and wondered who would claim her belongings such as they were. Probably, the most expensive items were her shoes which took up the entire walk-in closet in her master bedroom.
The sidewalk was almost deserted but she noticed the middle-aged man who had tagged along behind them was still sitting on the bus bench watching her with an amused glint in his eye.
“Ok, buddy, spill the beans. What exactly is your fucking game following me all over the place?”
The man chuckled and pushed his glasses back with a little twist of his wrist that indicated it was a time-worn habit that would never be broken. She saw his wedding ring and the harried look in his eye and figured he was a long-term husband with a roving eye for “young stuff”. She knew the type and tried to steer clear of them because they were nothing but trouble with pestering for pussy and falling in love and all that crap that she thought was so cliché.
“You must excuse me, young lady, I too am not used to this form of existence we both seem to be in at the present. I was sitting in the back seat of that bus and I am not certain if they were able to even salvage my body from the mess. My name is Pressley and I was an advisor to the firm where young Mister White is employed. He is lucky that he walks to work each morning and was not on the silly bus that brought us both to the end of the trail as they would say in a western film.”
She could help but thing this Pressley dude was a talkative sort of fellow and probably a huge bore at parties. Well, no matter, she consoled herself silently, “I won’t be going to very many parties now!”
“Quite right, you are, my pretty little darling. Fun time is over but I can tell from the way you jerked off that young boy that you are one of the gifted ghosts with the ability to feel and receive pleasure from touching living flesh.”
She absorbed that little tidbit of information and wondered if there was any interaction within the ghost community. He laughed and nodded his head in the affirmative letting her know that her every thought went directly into his conscious thought patterns. Amy reached out and stroked the boring man’s shaft finding that the thick pipe was not quite as boring as she had assumed.
The overweight slightly balding ghost removed her French cut ghost panties and entered her with a level of enthusiasm she had never felt from silly boyfriend Herman. She ventured a tentative finger into his tightly clenched bottom and was rewarded with a satisfying grunt and the sound of a slight pop as she slid up inside his middle-aged butt.
Pressley was talking non-stop now about stupid things like debentures and returns on investment and she worked his conservative Republican ass until he sprayed her vaginal channel with more spunk than she had ever felt in a single human, alive or dead.
“My, goodness, Mr. Pressley that was certainly not what I expected especially since we are both not real flesh and bone any more. Why don’t I get that same feeling with the earthly people around us?”
He bounced his still inflexible cock on her belly and laid a trail of cream down to her fluffy triangle.
“I think it has to do with the fact we both expired at exactly the same moment and we are now a part of each other in the cosmic stream. We can interact with humans the same way you caused the young lad to spurt his load, but real sex is just not possible without the equipment to carry out the task.”
Amy was unhappy to be a new resident of the “Ghost World” because she still had a problem in believing they were anything except people’s over-fertile imagination.
“Oh, my God!”
She just realized that tomorrow night was Halloween and that all of the supposed witches, ghosts, and goblins would be flying around making trouble for boys and girls everywhere. Now that she was on the other side of the equation, she was not certain if she liked it or not.
Then, the horny businessman with the sliding glasses was mounted like a cowboy on her ample haunches and she forgot all about Halloween as he pumped her pretty bottom with his demanding cock. It was a novel experience for her and she caught a glimpse of them in the store window with her shapely and youthful body being pummeled by an aging banker with greedy hands and unquenchable cock. It was such a parody of what she hoped her life would be like that she had to laugh at her own silly expectations. It helped that Pressley was really good at ass-humping and had her ready to blow after spirited thrusts that made her move forward on her knees and elbows almost to the front door of the office building.
When Pressley exploded inside her it was like a mini-Atomic bomb setting off a chain-reaction of expanding orgasms. Nothing in her living life was as good as this and she suddenly hoped it would continue as long as she remained a ghost girl.
Everything was going along real great until Halloween night and she opened the office door in Pressley’s former office to see a fake blonde secretary stretched across the top of the cleared wooden desk with Pressley buried to the hilt in her formidable rear door. She had her eyes closed and must have thought it was one of the mail-room boys playing fast and loose with her willing buttocks. The sound she was making left Amy with no doubt that Pressley had perfected the Ghost/Human interaction thing and was giving her a real good time.
It was so humiliating to have her new boyfriend ghost cheating on her with a non-ghost slut that she wanted to cry but that would have been far too demanding for a fledgling ghost. She just kicked Pressley in his fat butt and stalked out certain that she wanted nothing to do with ghosting any more.
She was on the elevator shaking with frustration and rage when she felt a pair of hands start to explore her nether regions with impudent command. When she looked over her shoulder she saw what looked like a monster and got concerned she had actually fallen into Hell without any notice.
The young man took off his mask and reassured her he was a ghost just like her and was just trying to cheer her up with a little Halloween prank. Seeing the humor in it, she just leaned forward into the wall and let him have his way with her much to her full satisfaction.
They both paused when a pretty young girl with way too much to drink stumbled into the elevator and started punching buttons willy-nilly until she managed to jam the gears and bring everything to a halt.
Amy was the first to reach out and cup the girl’s breast with her ghostly hand and she was pleased to see her new ghost friend join in and play with the girl’s other nipple like an imp with fiendish delight on his mind. They used the girl like a new-found toy discovering the depths of the hedonistic young girl’s nature. The two of them allowed her to vibrate with passion under them as they coupled explosively as only ghosts can do on the night of Halloween.
Her new handsome friend was called Ralph and she decided she would keep him at her side until next Halloween when they would initiate another young female human into the wonderful world of the Ghostly Kingdom.