Ghost Story
By:
Jaden Farseer
(© 2008 by the Author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

 

It had been a long tough day at work, his body ached to be clean. Unlocking the door, he sighed in dismay; his apartment was, as always, empty. He lived alone now, no one to share what little comfort he still held. His clothes were left in a trail, leading to the bathroom.

 

Soon, the sounds of water filled the empty rooms, steam building as the shower grew hot. Looking in the mirror, his hand toyed slowly across his chest; oh, how he wished another’s hands would caress him. With yet another sigh, he slipped beneath the inviting flow of the showering water. The hot misty spray felt so welcoming on his worn body. Closing his eyes, his hands lathered his naked flesh. Every inch of his body grew more alive than ever. The shower felt so good to his worn muscles. The feeling of his own hands across his skin aroused yet another need. The swiftly stiffening cock between his thighs needed release from tension, his hands willing to fulfill that need.

Even as his fingers slid across his firm chest, his awareness sensed a new sensation – the touch of another’s hands playing across his chest. Whatever fear he may have felt, quickly vanished as the set of strange hands twisted a nipple playfully. Keeping his eyes shut, he arched his head back. To him, it felt as though an invisible tongue licked across his chest and up his neck.

 

It felt too good to be true; he kept his eyes shut, not wanting to end what was happening to him. The stranger was not unskilled, his well-filled hands flowing eagerly across the wet flesh beneath. If this was a dream, he wished to keep dreaming, even as the unseen tongue traced a trail down his chest and belly. He felt the moist lips wrap around his stiff cock. Slowly the mouth worked up and down his shaft. He moaned as the sensation filled him with a strong lust from deep within.

 

Placing both his hands behind his own head, he started thrusting his hips forward into the welcoming mouth that fought to take all of him in. He swore he felt strong hands grasping his ass as he worked deep into this night-visitor's open lips, a lingering touch, a stray finger playing around his tight hole, playing with it before gently pushing in.

Standing it no longer, he opened his eyes, opening them, yet seeing nothing but steam. The stranger fled from his touch. He sighed deeply; had it all been nothing but his imagination? Had he merely dreamed it all?

 

Stepping from the shower, his swollen cock, begging for release, he looked into the steamed-over mirror. His eyes widened in disbelief. There, in the lower left corner, a hand print. 'I must have left it before getting in the shower,' he thought to himself, playing his hand across the mirror – no, it couldn't be his own; the palm print was too large. It had to have been made by a bigger hand. 'But whose hand made this print? And when?' he thought as he stepped from his bathroom. "Oh well," he sighed to himself. The shower had done him some good though; his whole body felt surged with energy. Flopping down, he lay spread-eagled on his bed, his hands splayed across his chest.

Looking up at the blank ceiling, he closed his eyes, remembering the feeling in the shower. His hands moved to his still aching member. He still needed release. His hands moved, urging his cock on. Once more he felt the stranger's touch. Light brushing of fingers along his belly. Not wanting to frighten whomever it was, he kept his eyes shut, allowing the touch to flow as it willed. His hands splayed across his bed; the now familiar sensation of wet lips touched the head of his cock. Those lips kissing and that tongue licking their way up and down his shaft. Kisses that moved down to his groin, that mouth opening to swallow his tight balls. Moaning at the feeling of his nuts being sucked on slightly. The tongue swirled around his balls building such an exquisite feeling in his loins. Those lips disappeared from his loins, replaced by a new feeling. A feeling he knew all too well though, the feeling of a tight hole.

The ass pushed down slightly, allowing the head of his cock to enter the hot ass. Invisible muscles tightened around his hard dick; the feeling was intense. More pressure, and the ass slipped down the full length. With quickening speed, the hot hole loosened to allow the cock to continue to enter deeper and deeper. Even as that sweet ass moved up and down on his shaft, he felt hands playing across his chest. His head was arched back, his head breathing deeply as ecstasy filled him completely. As the lust built to a peak, he lifted his hips, thrusting his cock up into the impaled ass that sat on his swollen cock. He could feel the cum boiling in his balls, ready to burst.

 

Moaning out "I'm gong to cum!" he felt his whole body tighten as he began to release. Even as the cum covered him in a wave of tingling electricity, he opened his eyes, so wanting to see the face of whomever he was fucking. His hot cum shot out the tip of his cock, spraying across his bare chest. Just as before, there was no one else in the room with him. His hand slowly stroked his shaft, milking the last drops of cum from his balls.

With yet another lonely sigh, he sat up on the edge of his bed, still fingering his cum that had splashed across his smooth belly. He wondered who had been there with him? How had they been there one second, yet gone in a blink of the eye? He pondered and pondered.

 

Slowly he rose, returning to the bathroom. Moistening a cloth, he cleaned off his belly, slowly washing up and across his chest. The warm cloth caused a tingle in his nipples; the now all too familiar feeling was rising between his legs; a smile spread across his face. Even as his cock hardened, he puzzled on the situation, how could he see whomever it was that had been playing so skillfully with him while he had his eyes closed?

 

A thought leaped into his mind. Quickly going to his desk, he grabbed his digital camera. 'If I can't catch a glimpse with my own eyes, maybe I can with something else,' he thought with a wicked smile.

Sitting with eyes closed, he played lightly with his hand, waiting eagerly. He was rewarded by the return of those skillful hands. Not wanting to spoil the feeling he felt, he kept his eyes shut and his camera at the ready. Leaning back against the closet wall, he let the deft hands do their work. Once more, hidden lips slipped his hard cock into warm bliss.

 

With his head pressed firmly against the closet wall, he placed his index finger between his own lips, sucking erotically on it imagining it to be another’s hard cock. Tension built within his loins. He knew he couldn't keep the pace much longer; he moaned as he slipped another of his fingers into his mouth, slipping them in and out as he wondered what the stranger must look like.

 

A wicked tongue wrapped around his swollen shaft, working up the cum in his balls. He couldn't stop it; thrusting his hips forward, he moaned loudly as he cummed yet again and again. With his eyes firmly shut, he felt the mouth eagerly swallowing every ounce of his seed. In that instant though, his mind remembered the camera; without opening his eyes, he quickly raised his camera and snapped a few shots. Opening his eyes finally, he was saddened to see that he was once more alone, his cock still hard. With a smile, he took one more shot of himself to end the night well.

Eager to find an answer to the questions within him, he quickly searched through the digital memories. He recalled every picture as each floated across the screen for him to view. Finally, the last few were recalled for him to view. Pictures of the clothes and walls of his closet passed swiftly; surely, whoever had been there had not been that fast, not when he was sure that he remembered those lips still pressed against the base of his pulsing cock as he cummed.

 

 There, almost the last frame taken by the camera, barely visible in the picture displayed before him, he could see a striking man. The face of an angel. But the man, himself, was like mist. Seen, but he could see clear through him. He was like a ghost. A shiver of tingles slipped up his spine, had he just thought that? 'Was it really a ghost?' he thought to himself? 'Well ... so be it; 'At least it was a "friendly" ghost,' he thought to himself with a smile. Then, with a sigh of amusement, he slipped under the silky sheets of his bed, drifting off into dreams of lust. A final whisper slipped through his lips, "Sleep well, my ghostly lover." Even as he slipped into slumber, he could swear he felt a tender kiss of warm lips on his cheek before falling into a restful night's sleep.

 

Finis!

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Posted: 06/06/08