“They say she shows up whenever the fog rolls in and that she’s always naked when she appears,” Ginny’s eyes squinted up at the second floor window of her aunt’s newly renovated Victorian.
Calvin glanced over at Ginny, eyebrows raised skeptically and inquisitively. “Have you seen her?”
“I think I did once, when I was really young, but you know how a kid’s imagination can be. I might’ve just willed myself to see it.”
“But you’ve stayed in the house before, right?” Calvin asked.
“Of course,” Ginny replied, “Lot’s of times.”
“Ever hear anything up there?”
“It’s an old house, Cal, it makes all kinds of noises.”
“Yeah, but…” Cal looked up at the window and then let his gaze wander around the neighborhood and out to the harbor.
It was evening, and a dense fog was rolling in.
“I dare you to stay in the room tonight,” Cal said.
“I dare you to stay with me,” Ginny grinned at him and batted her eyelashes seductively, then she aimed her camera back up at the window.
Cal heard a series of whizzes and clicks as Ginny took photos of the house.
“It won’t take long to sell. She did a perfect job on the restoration. Someone’ll want it for a bed and breakfast or something.”
“You’re changing the subject,” Cal’s voice deepened with the subtle admonishment. “I betcha twenty bucks you can’t stay in there all night by yourself.”
“Cal, you’re such a child,” Ginny replied…but she smiled and giggled a bit, obviously deflecting. “I bet you a hundred dollars that you can’t stay in there the whole night!”
Cal looked at her, eyebrows raised again, this time in disbelief, “Do you even have a hundred dollars?”
“Look, let’s both stay. The fog is thickening, and if it’s gonna happen, it’ll be tonight, any moment. But I don’t think anyone’s ever seen her inside the house, only from the street, in the window.”
“Then let’s get up there, I wanna catch a glimpse of this naked ghost lady,” Cal took hold of Ginny’s arm and led her toward the house.
Inside, most of the furniture and art work was covered by white sheets. The house had been empty most of the summer, waiting for paperwork to go through. But the will had been distributed and most of the home’s contents had be designated to various family members across the country. The actual house would be sold and the proceeds divided among the niece’s and nephews. For now, though, the house stood pretty much as it had the day Aunt Katherine died.
Ginny and Cal wandered around a bit, lifting sheets and looking at what was left behind.
“It’s a pretty cool place. She really tried to keep to the feel of the original house with her style,” Ginny said, “Whoever buys it ought to just take it as is, furniture and all.”
She headed toward the stairs, camera in hand, and looked back at Cal, “You comin’?”
“Not yet,” he grinned.
“Good lord…such a child….” Ginny shook her head in mock disbelief and walked up the stairs.
All the doors on the second floor were closed, presumably to keep the dust at bay, but it was easy to figure out which room it was.
Ginny opened the door and flipped the light switch on out of habit but, as expected, there was no power. Hearing Cal’s boots on the stairs, clomping noisily upward, she turned and looked over her shoulder briefly before fully entering the room. Cal was right behind her, close enough that she could almost feel his heat against her. They both looked around, their eyes eventually resting on the window. They stood still, hardly breathing for longer than felt normal, until Cal broke the spell and brushed past her.
His voice seemed loud in the quiet gloom, “Well, at least the bed’s big enough for the both of us.”
It squeaked under his weight as he sat and then lay back, sprawling out at first and then crossing one leg over the other, his hands behind his head. Ginny sat on the edge of the bed, placed her camera on the nightstand, and nestled into his side, her head on his chest.
Summer meant late sunsets. And the fog brought darkness even earlier, as it blocked out the light from the moon. It was nearly 9:30, and even though she shouldn’t have been tired, the long drive here had sapped her energy. Laying here beside Cal, she knew she’d be asleep in no time, even with the unlikely possibility of catching a glimpse of a ghost as inspiration to stay awake. She looked back at the window one last time before closing her eyes. Nothing. Nothing was there. And Cal was already snoring softly.
So much for ghost watching.
Cal was the first to feel it. The sudden chill entered him bone-deep, and his body shivered in response. He opened his eyes and blinked several times, trying to focus in the thick gray of night. The air felt heavy, and his limbs moved slowly and clumsily as if numb. He had a sense of not being alone. The room seemed fuller than just he and Ginny, the sounds muted as if held in by too many bodies.
The soft glow from the uncovered window was the only light in the room, but as Cal’s eyes adjusted, he could see his breath clouding upward like smoke. Within it, the soft white form of a woman appeared. She was leaning forward at the window, one hand on a chair to support her, the other hanging at her side. Her naked behind protruded, a lambent orb in the darkness of the room.
Cal couldn’t move. He just watched, eyes wide with curious disbelief, as she sat, unaware of his presence, and spread her legs. She touched herself and let her head fall back, and Cal could have sworn he heard her sigh in stereo, the sound reverberating in the room, surrounding him, stuffing up his ears like soft cotton.
He felt his cock twitch between his legs and momentarily chastised himself for the automatic response. Ginny shifted beside him, lifting herself up slowly on one elbow.
“Why’s it so hot in here, Cal?”
He tried to move his lips, but found he couldn’t open his mouth to speak.
“Cal?” Ginny sat up and took of her jacket.
“I’m burning up…”
She stood beside the bed, and Cal’s eyes flitted back and forth between her and the ghost in the chair, still slowly touching herself, legs now hooked over the arms of the chair, head lolling forward, hair snaking across her breasts.
Ginny slipped out of her shoes, pulled her t-shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor, and then unzipped her jeans and wriggled out of the them. She stood there in the dim, her bright white underthings glowing like nightlights, until she removed those, too, and slipped back onto the bed. Her naked form exuded the heat she complained about. Cal could feel it before she touched him. He could hardly see her in the dark, but he felt her hands unbuckling his belt…pulling open his 501s one button at a time. The now icy air sent a jolt through him and sent his cock to retreating, until Ginny’s warm breath brought it back. He kept his eyes of the woman in the chair, but his whole body now gave way to Ginny’s heat, as she pulled his jeans down to mid-thigh and fished his cock, hard once again, out of the hole in the front of his boxers.
She took him into her hot mouth, wrapping her lips around him and sliding down until he felt himself reach the back of her throat. He groaned, belly sinking and rising, glutes contracting, back arching in response.
The woman in the chair continued, her soft moans and whimpers filling his head, her form becoming more defined, the outlines of her fingers more crisp. She undulated her hips, circled her pelvis and Cal could see so clearly as she spread her labia with one hand and circled her clitoris slowly with the fingers of the other.
Ginny’s mouth worked him, her tongue circling his head, her cheeks sucking in against the sides of his cock as she sucked upward, her tongue pressing against the base as she slide back down, lips wrapped tightly around the base of his shaft…her chin resting gently and briefly against his balls.
She was so hot, radiating heat beside him like a radiator. And the air beyond was still so cold. The sensations mixed against his skin, and the sounds were muffled and swirling, swinging toward him and away again. He tried to raise his arm, to place his hand on Ginny, but he still couldn’t move his limbs. He tried to speak, to say her name, but his lips could only just barely twitch. He seemed only to have control of his eyes and his breath.
The woman in the chair slipped two fingers inside her cunt. She pulled them out, the fingers of her other hand still spreading her labia wide, and licked and sucked all four fingers. She then slipped one, two, three, four fingers in, leaned back and began to jackhammer her hand in and out of her cunt.
He could hear her squelching wetness ringing clear like a bell through the heavy, muffled air.
Ginny’s rhythm matched the woman’s. Her sucking grew more intense as the woman’s movements sped up, and Cal could feel his climax rumbling inside like bubbles on the bottom of a pan building to a boil. His whole body clenched, galvanized, his breath catching, and he felt like a drowning man…unable to breathe or move or yell out.
Trapped inside of himself, he came. He came harder than he was fairly certain he ever had, exploding into Ginny’s mouth, wanted desperately to grab a fistful of her hair. His eyes involuntarily shut, squeezing tight against the image of the woman as she climaxed, her cathartic moan filling the room like a solar blast, bright white against his closed lids.
His body slackened. Sweaty and now shivering in the cold, he opened his eyes to the darkness. Ginny lay sleeping beside him, still clothed. Finally able to move, he ran his hands over the front of his jeans, still buttoned…his belt, still buckled.
What the ever-loving fuck, he thought.
He rose from the bed and went to the window. It was open to the cool night. He shut it and sat in the chair, which was warm.
Looking down at the floor, between his still booted feet, was a pile of softly glowing white. He leaned over to pick them up. They were warm, too. Ginny’s underthings.
“Ginny,” Cal said into the darkness, his voice feeling weak and strained, “Ginny, wake up!”
She shifted on the bed and sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes like a child and squinting at him, “What? Did you see her?”
“Yes, Gin, I think I did…I really think I did…”
She slid to a seat at the edge of the bed, her knees brushing his, and took hold of his hands. “What are these?” she asked.
“I think their yours.”
Ginny grabbed hold of her t-shirted breasts, realizing with fear-tinged confusion that she was, indeed, not wearing a bra…the bra she’d come into the house wearing…the one that, apparently, was now in Cal’s hands…along with the matching panties.
“You have no idea, Ginny…no idea how fucked up this whole thing just got.”
“Your shaking, Cal…what happened? And why the fuck does my jaw hurt so bad?”
“I think we should leave. I need to get out of here.”
“Okay,” Ginny said, “But will you tell me what happened? What did you see?”
“I’ll tell you on the way home. Right now, I just need my hands on the wheel and some loud music to clean out my ears. And you can keep your hundred bucks. You’re never gonna believe me, anyway.”
Thank you to the following people for inspiration on this story:
Charlton C. Tod’s Fantasy Smut Friday prompt to create a sexy wager and Haiku‘s gorgeously ghostly image meshed together to lead me down this path. Of course, I didn’t really know where it was going to take me until I got there. I usually don’t. My characters do funny things and just drag me along for the ride. I also threw in a few words that were new to me, based on the encouraging challenge of Violet Fawkes and her spicy linguistic meme “Write Big Sexy Words.” Click on the badges above to check out these memes and read what they’ve inspired in others.