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Ghost
1991
I went to bed
Sunday night feeling a bit depressed. Weekends did
that to me, with the knowledge that others went out and had fun
while I
did nothing, and it had been the kind of warm spring weekend
that people
say is ripe for romance. I was lying on my side wondering if
I would
ever find a girl, one arm under my pillow and the other arm hugging
the
covers against my ear when I heard a quiet voice.
"Hello?" it said, sounding tentative. It was a softly
feminine
voice, but there was nobody in the room who could have spoken.
After a
brief startle, I ignored the voice and assumed that I'd imagined
it.
"Hello," it said again, more firmly, just as my thoughts
had begun
to drift.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my room?" I answered,
sitting
up in the darkness as I groped for the bedside lamp. The light
flashed
on, partially blinding me, but I could see well enough. Nobody
was in
the room with me.
"Don't get upset," the voice said, pleading. "I
don't really have
a name, I guess you can pick one. I'm in your room because I
like you,
and I've decided that it's time for me to introduce myself.
I hope you
don't mind."
I sat in my bed with my back against the wall, staring around
my
empty room and seeing no sign of anyone. The voice seemed to
come from
nowhere in particular. "Where are you hiding? Come on
out where I can
see you. What do you mean, you like me."
"Just that. I've been following you for a year now, and
I like
you. As to why you can't see me, I don't have a body yet."
I slumped in my bed and pulled the covers back up to my chin.
"Then this must be a dream," I said. "What do
you mean, you don't have a
body. What are you?"
"I guess I'm a spirit, or something like that."
"What do you mean, you guess. Besides, I don't believe
in
spirits."
"It really doesn't matter what you believe," the voice
said, with
a chuckle. "I'm me, I'm real, I like you, and I'd like
to be your
friend."
"It's a hell of a way to begin a friendship," I said,
sitting up
angrily in bed. "Following me around for, what was it you
said, for a
year? Where have you followed me anyway?"
"Everywhere, most of the time. I'd like to sleep with
you."
"What?"
"What I said, I want to sleep with you. What kind of body
would
you like me to have?"
"I've never slept with a girl before," I said, feeling
very unsure
of myself.
"I know," she said, sounding sympathetic. "I'd
like to make love
with you. What kind of body do you want me to have?"
"Are you saying you can materialize, that you can look
like anyone
I want?"
"Yes."
"That sounds obscene!"
"Why?"
"It does, that's all."
"There must be a reason."
I sighed and slumped down in my bed. "I don't know. This
is too
weird! Maybe it's just that dreams, fantasies, things like that,
maybe
they aren't supposed to come true. Shouldn't I have to earn
my friends
and accept the bodies nature gave them?"
"Usually," she said, sounding serious. "But
you did earn me, and
since I don't have a body right now, you have a choice about
how you'd
like me to look."
"What do you mean, I earned you?"
"You earned me, just that. I've followed many men over
the years,
and you're the first one who's interested me in a long time.
"Why me?"
"Do people need reasons?"
"No, I guess not."
"OK, so how do you want me to look?"
I hesitated, and then decided to play along. "How about
tall and
slim, about my size."
"Easy enough," she said. "Pick a skin color."
"I don't know," I said, and then chuckled. "Suntans
look nice,
but I think tanning's a stupid activity. How about naturally
dark skin,
like people from India or something."
"Hair color?"
"Black, I suppose. Anything else would look out of place.
Make
it straight and long, and I guess your features should look Indian
too,
you know, oriental."
"But most tall slim Indians have western looking features."
"They do? OK, if you say so."
"What about my figure."
"How about medium to small breasts, with big nipples."
She chuckled again. "This is fun, I guessed that one from
the
kinds of girls you like to watch. How about build, skinny, lightly
padded or muscular?"
"Slim but muscular," I said. "Be functional,
not decorative."
"Body hair?"
"I don't believe this," I said, flustered by the thought
of
ordering a human body the way you'd order a meal in a restaurant.
She chuckled. "I'm sorry, I gess this is a bit weird,
but do you
want my body to have hair, pubic hair and armpit hair?"
"What choice have I got? I mean, it's stupid for women
to shave
their bodies, but I guess I like the idea of a hairless body."
"OK, I can make me hairless," she said, and then paused.
"That
about covers everything, ready for me to materialize?"
"No!" I said, suddenly aware that I was naked. "Let
me put
something on."
"Why bother? I can't materialize clothing, only a body,
so I'll
be nude. Anyway, I've followed you around for a year; I'm used
to what
you look like when you're nude, and I like it."
I sighed. "OK."
She was there. It was that simple. One moment, I was alone
in my
room, and the next moment, there she was, standing in front of
me as I
sat in bed. She was beautiful in the light of my bedside lamp,
slim,
dark-skinned, with even darker areolas that almost covered her
small
breasts, and long black hair down to her waist.
She took a step towards me and held out her hand. I took it,
and
it was warm and solid, as real as my own. She smiled at me as
I looked
at her, and then she pulled my hand to her breast. "Come,
feel me, enjoy
the body you've helped create."
"I still don't believe this," I said, my hand trembling
as I
touched her breast. It was soft and warm, real flesh, and very
feminine
flesh.
"What can I do to convince you that I'm real?"
"I don't know," I said.
She sat on my bed beside me, her thigh against mine, her breast
touching my arm as she rested her arm around my shoulders. "I
suppose,"
she said, speaking softly, "I suppose it doesn't really
matter. Why not
just enjoy a fun night of fantasy and let the question of whether
I'm
real wait for the light of day?"
"OK, but I've got to go to work tomorrow, you know."
"Don't worry, I promise, you'll wake up rested and ready
for
action in the morning."
"Then convince me," I said, getting out of bed and
turning to look
at her. "Convince me that you're magic."
"OK," she said, grinning, and then disappeared. She
was gone, but
in seconds, I felt a soft touch. Lips touched mine, hands slid
over my
back, and warm breasts pressed themselves against me. It was
the stuff
of pure fantasy, but it felt so real.
As I sat back on the bed, I gave in to the fantasy and began
returning the kisses. There was nothing to see by the light
of my
bedroom lamp, yet I felt a woman on top of me as I lay down in
bed. Her
lips kissed my neck, her fingers touched my chest, and I stroked
her
invisible back.
My penis rose between my legs with an intensity and speed unlike
anything I can remember, and then it was engulfed in soft moist
sliding
warmth. I looked down and saw nothing. My hands rested on nothing
to
each side of my erect penis, but I could feel it. I could feel
her body
between my hands and I could feel her body surrounding my penis.
My curiosity was overwhelmed by the sensation. The pressure
in my
penis mounted to limits I'd never experienced in my solitary
pleasures,
and then I felt an orgasm like nothing I'd ever expected. It
roared
through me, it mounted higher, and roared again, sending waves
of pure
undiluted pleasure through my body as my penis slid in and out
of the
invisible soft velvet of her body.
It lasted a long time, and then I felt her lips on my mouth
and
her breasts on my chest. We kissed, I slid my hands over her
invisible
body, and I wondered what was happening to me. In no time, I
felt my
erection returning, and the rise to another orgasm swept my thoughts
aside.
It seemed like the entire night went on like that, one impossible
dreamlike orgasm after another, each perfect, each satisfying,
and each
leaving me rested and ready for more. If it was a dream, it
was the most
incredibly sexy dream I've ever had, and if it was real, there
was no way
I could reconcile it with anything I knew about reality.
--
Monday morning, I woke up aware of her body pressed warmly against
mine. Her fanny was against my hips, her back against my chest
and my
fingers were on her hard nipple. I could smell her, and when
I opened my
eyes, I could see the back of her head only inches from my face.
"Are you awake?" she asked, in a very quiet voice.
"Yes," I answered. "Who, what are you? Did
we really É ?" I
broke off flustered.
She chuckled and held my hand to her small, soft breast. "Did
we
really what? We really did make love last night, almost all
night, if
that's what you want to know. For a beginner, you're pretty
good, it was
fun. As to who I am, I don't have a name yet, but you're welcome
to name
me. What am I? I'm not sure what I am now, but I was born a
girl, a
very normal girl, a long long time ago."
"How long ago?"
"Hundreds of years, and it's been a century or so since
I last
took human form." Her voice sounded sad. "When I'm
in human form, I get
so disgusted with people, but when I'm a spirit, I miss having
a body so
much."
"Are there others like you? There's a word, a succubus,
is that
what you are?"
"A succubus? I've played that role at times, and I'll
admit that
it can be fun, but it's not something to dedicate a life to.
I don't
know if there are others like me. I guess it's possible, but
I've never
found any evidence of any except in folktales."
"It sounds like you've had some lonely times."
"I have," she said, and then took a long breath.
"You know, in
all those years, I've never talked about it with anyone else."
I didn't know how to respond to her, but I liked the feeling
of
her body against mine and I liked the way she held my hand to
her breast.
She stroked my forearm with her hand, and then sat up beside
me and
looked down at me. Her skin was a warm brown in the early morning
light,
except for her dark brown lips and the dark circles of her large
areolas.
She gracefully shook her long hair, smiled, and slid a hand down
my
chest.
It was exciting looking at her and feeling her fingers on my
skin,
and when she noticed my excitement, she wordlessly straddled
my hips with
her thighs and slid herself down to engulf me. She was gentle
at first,
sitting on my hips and moving ever so slightly while she smiled
down at
me and fingered my chest, but as my excitement mounted, she began
to rock
harder, and then I could see that she was excited too. I pulled
her to
me as we neared a shared climax, and the exquisite touch of her
nipples
on mine sent me over the edge as we kissed.
--
After breakfast, I think she wanted to make love again, but
I
stopped her. I pushed her away as she tried to hug me and lead
me back
to bed, and then I confronted her, standing facing her in the
bedroom
doorway.
"Look," I said. "Whoever you are, I've got to
get to work. I'll
be late as it is." Her beautiful brown body was very tempting
as she
stood naked before me. "You said you started as a normal
girl, then
became a spirit or something, and now you're very much a girl,
but what
the hell are you? How did you become a spirit?"
"Magic."
"Right," I said. "The trouble is, that tells
me nothing."
"I was trapped, my father was a monster, he wanted to force
me to
marry for his political advantage, and I might as well have been
in
prison the way I lived. Worse, I was in love with a boy. Under
those
circumstances, wouldn't you try things, anything? I did, I found
an old
book, a wizzard's book, I think, and the result was what I am
now."
"What else can your, uh, your magic do?"
"Not much, not now. I've discovered that the less use
I make of
my magic, the better it is. In the first few years after I earned
my
freedom, I fooled around with it all the time, and it got boring.
I've
learned that in the long run, it's more fun to play by the rules.
I've
also learned how to use my magic powers to temporarily nullify
themselves, and late last night, after I materialized, I did
it. Now,
I'm all but powerless until this body dies."
I didn't know what to say. It sounded like she'd made a huge
sacrifice, and it sounded like she'd made it so she could live
with me.
I looked at her for a while, trying to understand her, and I
felt a bit
lame when I finally broke the silence. "Do you have a name?"
"Each time I've taken a material form for any length of
time, I've
taken a new name. You chose my form, you may as well name me
too."
"But what name were you born with?"
"Beryl."
"It's a pretty enough name, do you mind if I call you that?"
"OK." She smiled. "I'm glad I chose you, you
know?"
"Why?"
"Because you're a gentleman."
"Thanks," I said, looking at her beautiful body as
she stood in
front of me. "Look, what are we going to do. What am I
going to do with
you?"
"I don't know."
"That's crazy. I've got to go to work today, what will
you do?"
"Whatever you want me to do."
"No! What do you want to do? I'm sure as hell not having
you
hang around my apartment all the time as some kind of love slave."
"Mabe I'll go out and look around the town."
"What'll you wear?"
"To go out? I don't see much point in wearing clothes
around the
house. We're the same size, you know. I'm not used to wearing
men's
clothes, but these days, I guess I could. Do you mind if I borrow
some
of your clothes?"
"What about money and identification? Nowdays, you can't
very
well run around town without money. Don't get me wrong, you're
very
pretty, and so far, you've been lots of fun, but you're a legal
non-
person, and that poses problems."
"Don't worry," she said. "I have a few letters
to write and
that'll be all taken care of. Let's get dressed."
I backed into my bedroom and pulled out a pair of jeans for
her,
then hesitated. "I don't have any girls underwear."
"That's OK. Last time I had a body, they hadn't invented
modern
underwear yet. Quite frankly, I don't see much point to wearing
it
anyway." She stepped into my jeans and pulled them up.
"What about a shirt," I asked, admiring the way my
jeans looked on
her.
"With my dark skin?" she asked, and then paused.
"Here, I'll show
you," she said, stepping into my closet and pulling out
a white short-
sleeved shirt. It was a knit shirt, pullover style, with three
buttons
at the neckline. "How about this?"
"OK," I said, and then it struck me how odd it was
that she knew
what clothing I had in the closet. She really had been watching
me for a
long time.
As she pulled the shirt on over her head, I began to have second
thoughts. "Beryl, are you sure you want to wear that?"
"Why?" she asked, adjusting the collar.
"Well, it's not very modest."
"What do you mean?"
"With your dark skin, your nipples show, look at yourself."
She looked at herself in my bedroom mirror, and then turned
to me
and grinned. "Don't you like the effect?"
"Well," I said, looking at her. Her dark areolas
were visible
through the thin fabric, and the lumps of her nipples stood out
clearly.
"I won't say I don't like looking at you."
"Then OK. You should have seen the dresses I wore two
centuries
ago during the Greek revival craze. Come on, as you said, you're
in a
hurry to get to work."
--
Before I left for work Monday morning, I left the spare key
to the
apartment with Beryl along with forty dollars. I half expected
her to
disappear with both before I got home from work, but as I walked
up the
steps to my apartment, I heard music coming from my sterio.
"How was work?" Beryl called as I opened the door.
"OK," I said, closing the door behind me. Actually,
my day hadn't
been very productive; I'd spent too much time thinking about
Beryl.
"Sit down," Beryl said as she came out of the bedroom.
"When was
the last time you went out to dinner?"
"It's been a long time," I said, looking at her.
She wasn't
wearing the clothes she'd been wearing when I left her in the
morning;
instead, she wore a short white skirt, perhaps fingertip length,
with a
silver camisole top. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail,
and she
wore a row of four rings in each ear.
"Like it?"
"I'm not sure," I said, staring. "You're awfully
sexy looking
dressed like that." The colors set off her brown skin nicely,
and the
fabric of the camisole draped gently over her small breasts,
hinting at
their shape instead of frankly revealing them the way my knit
shirt had.
"Did I give you enough money to buy all that?"
"I spent a few of the dollars you gave me on fabric, then
spent a
bit of time sewing. The earrings only cost four bucks a pair
at that
Indian import outlet in the mall."
"But ear piercing, they don't do that for four bucks a
pair."
"I did that myself with a sewing needle."
I must have blanched a bit at that, because she walked up to
me
and gave me a gentle hug. "Don't worry, I've got enough
magic left that
it wasn't any problem."
"Sounds like you went to quite a bit of effort," I
said, trying to
collect my feelings. "Where'd you get a sewing machine."
"I did it by hand," she said, looking down at herself
as she
stepped back to pose for me. "I've never used a sewing
machine, and I
grew up sewing my own clothes. Anyway, these modern styles are
pretty
easy."
She smiled. "Come on, let's go out to dinner. I know
you haven't
been out socially in the year I've been following you, and you
need it."
"OK," I said. "Where?"
She had a place in mind, and I didn't seem to have much choice.
I
drove there, and it turned out to be a bar, not a dive, but a
place with
food that looked decent and a dance floor. There was evidence
that a
band would be playing later, but as we walked to a table, the
only music
was canned, and that wasn't too loud to prevent conversation.
We sat at a small table, and after we'd ordered, Beryl leaned
forward on her elbows to look at me. I enjoyed the way her camisole
hung, almost but not quite exposing her nipples as she faced
me. "I
guess we've got some talking to do," she said.
"You're not kidding. Where do you want to start."
She took a deep breath. "I don't know. I've never done
it like
this before. I always either completely hid my true nature or
played it
up all the way, you know, appearing from a burning bush and making
like
I'm some kind of angel."
"So? I'm glad you want to be honest, but is that the problem?"
"Not really."
"What is?"
"In a way, I guess it's modern times."
"What's the problem?"
"Freedom. I guess you can see that I like the idea of
being able
to express my sexuality, and I like the idea that a girl who
likes a guy
can just move in with him, but, well, there are some things you
can't
take for granted these days."
"Like?"
"In the old days, a girl could expect men to support her
without
much trouble. She'd keep house and keep the bed warm, and her
man would
earn the money and deal with the world. It's not like that now."
"Right, and it's worse. To get a job, you need a social
security
number, and to get a number, you need proof of legal residence
and
employability in the United States."
She grinned at me. "I know, I haven't been asleep all
these
years. The first thing I did this morning was buy a postal money
order
and write for a copy of my birth certificate."
"What? I thought É"
She shushed me, then continued in a low voice. "I was
born in
Wyoming 22 years ago and I'm half American Indian. My folks
named me
Jenny Smith, but I've gone by the name Beryl since I ran away
from home."
"What about school records, things like that."
"I'm self-educated, and damn proud of it!"
"Do you have relatives?" I asked as I realized what
she was
implying. "And what about friends? They could really mess
things up."
"They're all dead. Don't worry about it."
The waitress delivered our food, and soon after that, the band
started to play, drowning out any effort at continued conversation.
I
looked at Beryl while I ate, unsure about what she'd done. It
certainly
didn't sound legal, but at the same time, I couldn't imagine
any legal
way for a spirit, if that's what she was, to get a legal identity
in
today's world. Had there been a Jenny Smith? How had she died,
and how
did Beryl think she could claim her identity. I wasn't sure
I wanted to
know, and in a way I was glad that the music was loud enough
to prevent
me from asking.
The food was quite good, and the music was good enough that
even
though I'm no dancer, I was tapping my feet and gently nodding
my head to
the beat of some of the pieces. My knees touched Beryl's under
the
little table, and after she finished her small meal, she slid
her hand
down under the table and rested it on my knee, smiling as she
touched me.
"Want to dance?" she asked during the first lull in
the music
after we finished eating.
I hesitated. "I'm no good."
"So? I haven't danced in years, come on."
The evening passed in a whirl. She may not have danced for
a
century, but she did know how to dance, and better than that,
she was a
good teacher. After a short while, I forgot my awkwardness and
began
enjoying myself. Beryl was fun to watch as she gyrated in front
of me,
and I could tell that she wanted me to watch her.
As the music slowed, I wanted to hold her, and judging by the
way
she danced in my arms, she wanted to be held. Her fingers gently
traced
the curve of my back, and she felt warm and soft as she moved
against me
with the beat of the music.
As the piece ended, she whispered in my ear. "Let's go
home."
"OK." I said, and followed her to the door. Following
her was
fun. Her short skirt seemed awfully short when seen from the
rear,
barely decent but very fun to watch. It was almost disappointing
as we
left the lights of the bar and went out into the dark parking
lot.
"That was nice," Beryl said as we walked into my apartment.
She
took me by the waist and kissed me, holding the kiss for a long
time,
stroking my back with one hand while she held her other hand
on my chest.
I felt a bit awkward, unsure what I should do with my hands,
until I
realized that it must be reasonable for me to do with my hands
what she
was doing with hers.
"That was nice," she said, breaking the kiss. "I
like the way you
touch me."
An uncomfortable thought struck me as I looked at her. "Do
we
have to worry about, well, birth control? I mean É "
She smiled. "No, but if you want children someday, we
can have
them. Would you like to dance some more?"
"OK," I said. "What kind of music?"
"Something long?"
I put on a tape, and then she held my hand and we began to dance
again. She was a sensuous beauty, and it wasn't long before
I was
sexually aroused by the way she touched me and moved with me.
"Don't get impatient," she whispered as I fondled
her breast
through the thin satin of her camisole. She pushed away my hand,
and for
a few minutes, we danced, facing each other but not touching.
Beryl danced gracefully, back to me, and I wanted to hug her
to
me, but she shrugged off my arms and began to undo my shirt.
Her touch
was gentle as she pulled my shirt off, but she never stopped
dancing, and
when my shirt was off, she flowed into my arms once again.
"You can undress me, if you want," she whispered as
I slid my
hands over her body.
I felt clumsy taking off her camisole, but she smiled as I set
it
aside, and then she stepped back from me and danced, letting
me watch the
gentle swing of her long black hair and the bounce of her small
breasts
as she moved.
"You're beautiful," I whispered as she came back into
my arms.
Her breasts pressed softly agains my chest as we danced, and
I could feel
the four earrings in her ear against my cheek.
She didn't answer, but slid her hand down my back and slid a
finger under the waistband of my pants.
"Keep dancing, don't say anything more," she whispered,
kneeling
in front of me, still swaying with the music as she kissed my
belly and
undid my belt. She gently pulled off my pants, and as she freed
my erect
penis, she gently kissed it before standing to hug me and kiss
me on the
lips.
My penis pressed agains her as we danced, and she smiled down
at
it and petted it before stepping back and pulling my hand to
the buttons
that held her skirt. I knelt to undo the four buttons, and then
kissed
her belly as I set the skirt aside. Unbuttoned, the skirt was
little
more than a band of fabric a yard long and a bit over a foot
wide, and
she wore nothing under it.
She pulled away from me when I tried to hold her, but she kept
dancing, letting me watch the erotic motion of her body for a
few minutes
before she finally pulled me to her and kissed me. Our dancing
had
degenerated to just swaying together, and as I kissed my way
away from
her mouth, she hugged me by the back of the neck and directed
my
attention downward, first to her soft breasts and hard nipples,
and then
lower.
I knelt to kiss her belly, and then hesitated about kissing
any
lower. She knelt to face me, her knees to my knees and her hands
on my
buttocks, kissing me again as we swayed to the music. My penis
pressed
eagerly into the space between her legs, and after a minute,
she pushed
me gently back into a sitting position on the rug and then straddled
my
lap and worked herself down over me. As I entered her, she kissed
me,
hard, and then leaned back, holding me with her hands behind
my neck and
smiling at me as we rocked to the rhythm of the music.
She looked down at where our bodies joined, and I looked down,
following her gaze and feeling a bit awed. I slid my hands from
her
fanny up her sides, and her smile turned to bliss as I began
to gently
touch her breasts.
I lost track of time as we rocked to the music. My attention
was
focused on the moist warmth of her body surrounding my erect
penis, and
then an intense look came over her face as she pulled me to her
and began
kissing. Her hips rocked in my lap, and I could feel waves of
muscular
contraction rippling through her from within. She gasped, and
then I was
gasping myself, feeling the pumping within me as I rocked my
hips in a
desparate effort to thrust myself even more deeply into her.
We held each other for a while after that, still rocking gently
to
the beat of the music, but relaxed and happy in the warm afterglow
of
what we'd done.
"You're fun," I eventually whispered.
She smiled shyly. "You too. Let's get into bed and I'll
teach
you some more ways to do it." |