I was thirty when I bought my house, and I was lucky find one. I was surprised to see this one on the market at such a reasonable price. It was an old house, to be sure, but it had been recently renovated and was very roomy. As a single man with no kids, it was way more house than I needed, but I was thinking about the future. It was too good to pass up. What followed from this was at times bizarre, erotic, and intensely emotional. It changed my life forever.
I got a hint and a warning about why the house was so affordable at the inspection. The seller was also the builder who had done the renovation. Apparently, the place had been unoccupied for a long time before he bought it. He showed up for the inspection in person, and he was a talker, so I learned a lot about the place. I got the impression that he couldn’t wait to be rid of it. To believe his side of things, the renovation was an interminable series of misfortunes. Tools went missing, workers had minor accidents, pipes broke, and fuses blew. The builder was convinced that the place was cursed.
I didn’t believe in superstitious nonsense, so I thought that was silly. If this guy was going to let fairy tales affect his judgment, I was happy to be the benefactor. The inspector I hired assured me that the pipes and wiring were upgraded during the renovation and there were no major problems. The inspector did say he didn’t like the way the HVAC system was installed, but it wasn’t unsafe, and it was presently functioning. I was perfectly happy to move forward. We closed in the middle of July. Unfortunately, the hottest part of the summer was on the way, and I would soon wish I had insisted on repairing the air conditioning.
I didn’t notice anything unusual right away. Like I said, I didn’t believe in superstitious nonsense, so I was probably ignoring the signs. The move in was uneventful and I had things how I wanted them within a week or so. I was pretty excited for this major milestone in my life. I was thinking that turning thirty meant it was time to settle down, get a place of my own, and try to find a serious relationship. I wanted a family before long. I wasn’t having luck with the serious relationship, so the place of my own would have to do for now. I also figured owning a home might help me show potential partners that I was mature and responsible. Well, owning this particular house was not going to make it easier to meet anyone.
I had the first inkling of something wrong one night while I was sitting and reading a book in the first-floor sitting room. I was feeling a little lonely that night. I wished I had invited a friend over or made plans to go out. I’m usually very introverted and happy for time alone, but I had a funny unwell feeling. I heard some loud thumping and banging noises coming from upstairs. This freaked me out, because I was alone in the house, or at least I thought. I entered 911 in the keypad of my phone and had my finger poised on the dial button. I grabbed my bat from the closet and went to check out the noise. After nervously searching the whole house, I found nothing. I concluded it must be rodents or something in the walls. I made an appointment with an exterminator. Two days later, I was annoyed when he told me there wasn’t anything wrong. What was that noise then?
By August, I was getting frustrated. A plumber found nothing to cause a banging in the pipes and the electrician said there was no reason I kept finding lights turned on. I was going to go broke paying for technicians to tell me there was nothing wrong.
One evening in late summer, I went on a blind date a coworker had arranged. I told the girl about my new-home frustrations. She listened with wide eyes and promptly pronounced that I had a ghost. Internally, I was pretty scornful of this statement, but I was polite for the rest of the evening. The date went well otherwise, but I was noncommittal when she brought up the idea of getting together again. Silly superstitions! I couldn’t get past that and we didn’t go out again.
After another week, something definitely was broken in the house. The air conditioning went out on one of the hottest days of the year. In a bizarre way, I was happy to have a problem with a solution rather than more unanswered questions. I was less thrilled later when I got the bill for the repair, but it didn’t make me as angry as the unexplained noises.
I didn’t realize I had an issue with the air until after work when I came home to a sweltering house. Unfortunately, the technician wasn’t able to come right away. Being such a hot day, they were busy with a high volume of calls. It was going to be a long, hot night for me and possibly more than one.
It was one of those still, hot, sticky nights where the temperature never dropped much, even after sundown. I watched TV with a fan blowing in my face, but I was soaked with sweat. When I trudged up to my room, I didn’t think I would get much sleep at all.
I opened the window and put the fan on its highest setting. The shorts and t-shirt that I typically wear to bed were soon drenched with sweat. I took them off and laid down in my underwear. In a final act of desperation, I slid them down and kicked them away. The slight breeze from the fan blowing over my naked form did seem to offer some relief. I finally managed to doze off well after midnight.
Despite being unable to fall asleep much of the night, I had pleasant dreams, or so I thought at the time. I was in that ambiguous place between sleeping and wake. I was having an erotic dream, but I was conscious enough to realize that it was a dream. A young woman, probably in her early twenties, was sitting on the edge of my bed with her hand on my cock. I was hard, and she was pumping her hand up and down. I was breathing deeply as I rapidly felt a pleasurable sensation build up in my cock and burst forth as she jerked me to ejaculation. I woke as I felt myself coming. Reaching down, I found a pool of semen on my stomach and I groaned with internal embarrassment.
I grabbed some tissues from the nightstand and wiped up the mess. Geez, I thought, I hadn’t had a wet dream in years. It was not a normal occurrence for me. What a sad testament to the state of my love life. As I took my morning shower, I resolved to redouble my efforts to get out more and meet someone. That being said, I did go through my day with a smile on my face after the pleasing dream and the release.
From the day of that erotic dream, there was an indescribable change in my mood around the house. The banging upstairs and the funny electrical problems seemed to resolve. I felt more comfortable, more at home. In the evening, when I was reading or watching TV alone in the sitting room, I never felt lonely anymore. I had the same cozy feeling I used to get when I would sit with my ex and read at night by her fireplace. Sometimes, when I was out of the house — never when I was home — I worried about whether I was becoming too much of a homebody. That comfortable feeling was keeping me from getting out to meet up with friends or go on dates. Several weeks went by and this warm feeling in the house continued to grow conversely with a nagging feeling of isolation.
It wasn’t until the air conditioning went out again on another very hot night that I started to realize that something truly abnormal was going on in this house. It wasn’t just the fact that the air conditioning failed again. I was perfectly ready to believe that the technician had screwed up, but what followed was undeniably unnatural, unless I was going out of my mind.
In my hot bedroom, I decided to sleep in the nude again. As I drifted off, the faint whisperings of the air moving over my naked skin were once again a pleasant sensation on an otherwise unpleasant night. Outside the open window, the sound of the crickets was loud in stifling air.
At first, I thought I was just having a reoccurrence of my pleasing erotic dream. I saw the young woman again. She was sitting nude on the edge my bed. As before, she had her hand wrapped around my cock and she was stroking. It was responding to her touch and swelling to its full erect size and hardness. I smiled as I recognized the dream. A moment later, I frowned. If I knew it was a dream, then it would soon be over as I regained full consciousness. I groaned because I wanted to come now that I was turned on. The last time, the erotic dream and the nocturnal emission had been more fulfilling than jerking off ever was. The hand slid loosely over my sensitive flesh and I moaned again.
I was fully awake then. Opening my eyes, the image of the woman was gone, but the feeling remained. It must be my imagination, I thought, but I could still feel the hand. I shook my head to clear away any cobwebs of sleep. It was still dark outside and the crickets still chirped loudly. I was definitely alone in my familiar bed in my room, but it felt like there was a hand on my cock.
“What the fuck?” I said out loud. My heart raced. I shivered and my body was covered in goosebumps despite the steamy weather. I could distinctly feel a hand on my cock and the trace of the arm draped across my leg.
What was happening to me? Was it a psychotic episode? Was this a physical manifestation of something wrong medically? The feeling of a moving hand stopped, but it still felt like I was being gripped lightly at the base of my cock. I was about to jump out of the bed when I felt something more on my manhood that kept me riveted to the spot. It was a mouth, I realized with a gasp. It was delightful. I felt the moist lips parting and engulfing my swollen head. The tongue was there too, swirling with warm saliva.
“Oh, shit,” I mumbled, as she took in more of my hard cock. I knew it was the young woman from my dream. I just knew it. But it wasn’t a dream. She was really here. I felt a panic rising and I was having trouble controlling my breathing. My heart was racing and I could feel my pulse in my head. As the panic attack grew, I felt dizzy. My fingers tingled. I sat up slightly and braced myself on my elbows. I wanted to scream or run as adrenaline coursed through my system, but all I could do was moan again as I felt her take my cock completely into her mouth. “Fuck, that feels good,” I groaned, though I didn’t know if she could hear me.
I took a deep slow breath and mastered my lungs. Flexing my fingers repeatedly, I tried to tamp down the panic. I grabbed the bedsheet and held it hard in two balled-up fists. Nothing bad or painful was happening to me, I told myself. There was no reason to believe I was in danger. I needed to regain control. The unseen woman was moving her mouth on my cock now. She was holding it upright by the base while she worked her mouth sweetly up and down my rod. I thought again about whether I should be trying to get away, but some animal part of my brain wanted to stay and allow the building pleasure in my groin to explode in an orgasm. The lust won over and I laid back flat on the bed. As if she could sense my internal struggle to know my own mind, I felt her place a soothing hand on my thigh. It massaged my gently and reassuringly. I closed my eyes and tried to relax my body.
With my eyes closed, I could see her there. The image of her kneeling on the bed with her head bobbing on my cock was vivid, but the rest of the image in my head was blurry and indistinct. Only she and I were focused. I grunted and lifted my hips to meet her mouth and I felt her try to take in the rest of my cock briefly before she went back to bobbing up and down.
“Oh, yeah. That’s so good,” I encouraged her. “Keep going,” I begged. In my head, I saw her lift her face and look me in the eye while she sucked me. Her bright eyes glinted with her excitement and lust.
I opened my eyes. I could no longer see her, but the feel of her mouth and her hand remained. What’s more, I could feel the weight of her body as she leaned over me. I reached down to place my hand where the back of her head should be, but I only grasped at the empty air. I couldn’t see her, and if I tried to hold her, there was nothing there. But I could still feel the sensation of her mouth and her hands on me. Closing my eyes again, I saw her still looking at me while she sucked. Her gaze was indescribably sexy. She released my cock from her mouth and lifted her head to smile at me. Her hand kept pumping my cock. Reaching forward, I ran a hand through her hair and felt it on my hand.
Were the images I saw when I closed my eyelids a product of my imagination? Or was she somehow projected into my mind’s eye? I didn’t know. I never was able to figure that out, but the physical sensations I felt when my eyes were closed matched what I saw in my head.
The woman had once again engulfed my cock with her lips. The warm massage of her wet mouth was fantastic. She was stroking me fast while she sucked now, and I felt the climax approaching. I was groaning and wriggling as she worked. When she reached a hand to lightly massage my tingling balls, it was over.
“Fuck,” I grunted involuntarily. “Fuck, that feels so good.” I felt the first wave of cum splash into her mouth as the muscles in my groin hummed and pulsed. More cum followed as further waves of pleasure built up and were spent. She slurped it up as she kept sucking without stopping. “Oh God,” I stammered as the feeling became overwhelming, “that was so great.” I closed my eyes again. She finally released my sated manhood and grinned at me. With a seductive wave, she stood up and moved toward the door. As she moved away, her image was fuzzy and then she was gone. I lay in the bed for a full minute as I caught my breath. There was no one there with me now; no presence I could feel. Reaching down, there was a little pool of cum around my cock. Though it had felt like she had swallowed it, the cum was actually still on my body.
After a few days, I tried to convince myself I hadn’t really felt what I thought I had felt. The part of my mind that is rational and orderly rebelled against my senses and my instincts. As summer gave way to fall, I worked up my resolve again to get out more to break myself out my funk.
I was lucky to meet Meghan on a night out with some old college friends. She had tailed along with a good friend of mine. Mandy was quick to introduce us and then disappeared toward the bar.
“You must be who I came here to meet,” Meghan said.
“What? No, I think you must be mistaken. I wasn’t waiting for someone,” I said. I gestured toward the knot of my friends by the bar. “I was just meeting up with them, But I guess someone is a lucky guy if you are being set up with him.”
She was rather pretty, and I did think that whoever she was being set up was lucky, but I probably wouldn’t have been so casual if I thought it was me. I just thought I was being kind.
Meghan laughed. “Then I guess you’re lucky,” she said.
“How’s that?
“Because, I am pretty sure that you are who I am supposed to meet.”
“No one said anything about introducing me to someone.”
“But your friend Mandy is who invited you to come out tonight, right?”
“Well, yeah, but . . .”
“And your name is Michael, right?”
“Uh, yes, Michael Sullivan, but . . . ”
“Then she may not have said anything to you, but Mandy told me to come out and meet her friend Michael. So, I think you are the guy.” Meghan had a very amused smile.
“Oh. Wow, she’s sneaky.” I laughed out loud.
“So, you think you’re lucky to be set up with me? That’s an interesting statement. Why do you think so?” She had a bit of a sly grin.
“Oh, well, I . . . uh . . . obviously I think you’re cute.”
“Well, thank you,” she said, still grinning. “You don’t look terrible yourself.” I laughed again.
“Maybe its beneficial to start out knowing what we both think.”
“We’ll see,” she said with a shrug. “I might just start walking up to guys and telling them they’re cute if this goes okay.” I laughed even harder.
“What I want to know,” I said, “is why Mandy told you she wanted to introduce us and not me?”
“Maybe she knows your habits. Would you have come out if it was a blind date?”
I laughed again and shook my head. “Probably not. I get set up a lot and it usually isn’t a great time.”
“See?” said Meghan. “Mandy’s no fool.”
“I guess so.”
“So, are you sorry you came?”
“Definitely, not. Can you I get you a drink?”
“I thought you would never ask.”
Meghan and I had a drink together and then a few more. She was as funny and intelligent as she was cute, and we had a great chemistry. Her smile and bright eyes were captivating. She looked great in a bright flower-pattern dress. I was imagining taking her home.
When I confessed that I was a bit of an introvert who would rather spend the night reading a book than out at the bar. Meghan smiled and nodded.
“I couldn’t agree more. I like spending time with friends, but I don’t really like a crowded place. What I really like the best is spending time with the right person.” She glanced around her as she said this at the crowd in the bar that was getting heavier as the night went on. From pervious nights at this bar, I knew that soon the lights would be turned down and the music turned up as the place got rowdier. This was about the time I usually made my way home.
Meghan read my mind. “I think it is getting a bit tight in here now. Would you like to walk out with me?”
“Sure. Let me say goodbye to my friends and I’ll go with you.” I was thinking about how best to invite her to come back with me. I was feeling a little turned on after a few drinks and several hours with a pretty girl. I said my farewells and walked out with Meghan.
We walked together and chatted as far as the point where we would logically part ways. I offered to walk her all the way back to her place.
Meghan saw exactly what I had in mind. She smiled and laughed and said, “You were lucky to meet me, but not that kind of lucky tonight, I’m afraid. Give me your phone.” She held out her hand. I gave her my phone and she quickly put her number into it. She leaned in so that I could give her a kiss on the cheek and then we said goodbye. I watched her go until she turned the next corner.
Ugh! It was a promising night out, and I was very pleased, but I was also very horny as I made my way back to the house. I was already planning to relieve my arousal as soon as I got into the door.
I went straight to my room and started shedding my clothes. I snatched my laptop off the side table and found a sexy video to watch. It featured a college cheerleader having sex in her uniform, which is one of my favorite fantasies.
Laying on the bed, I slid my underwear off my hips and palmed my hard cock. I lightly twisted my hand over the tip and saw a bead of cum already glinting there. I started to stroke my hard dick. What I really wanted was sex. This would have to do. I moaned as I started to stroke myself faster.
Suddenly, I stopped. I had a wicked idea. Maybe it was even a dangerous idea; I simply didn’t know. I let go of my cock and I laid back on the bed. I shut the laptop, slipped my underwear all the way off, and slightly spread my legs. My cock was straining at the sky and the precum dripped down my shaft. I was aching to finish, but I waited. The only sound was my breath as I strained to listen and to feel. For a moment, it seemed like nothing would happen. I was disappointed and about to reach down and finish myself off when I felt it.
My hair stood on end and my skin was all goosebumps as I gasped in surprise. Even though I had been hoping she would be there, it was still shocking to feel the first invisible touch. Her hand was there on my thigh. She had lightly touched me, almost as if to let me know of her presence.
“I’m so hard,” I whispered in the empty room. “Can you help me?”
I heard no answer, but the hand slid over my thigh to my groin. The fingers lightly swirled around the base of my cock, and I inhaled sharply. As the hand moved on my cock, I groaned again.
“Oh yes,” I hissed. “Thank you.” The hand moved lightly, and the fingers tentatively caressed my manhood, but I was surprised when the hand stopped stroking me. I felt her weight on the bed and she gripped the base of my cock. I was suddenly aware of her legs draped over either side of my thighs.
It can’t be, I thought. Is it possible? My heart thundered in my chest. I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Oh God,” I moaned, as I felt her lowering her pussy onto my cock. My head was engulfed by her lips. I closed my eyes and saw her straddling me. Her hand held my cock while she was inserting it into herself. She was looking down at me with eyes that burned with intensity. As she slowly buried my cock in her soaking wet pussy, she closed her eyes and threw her head back. Her free hand rose to caress her own breast as she began to ride me. I reached out and put my hands on her hips. It felt so good to be held in her tight grip as she lifted herself and then plunged back down onto me. She rode me with intensity, as if she had been desperate for pleasure. She thrashed and bounced on top of me with a fury.
The hazy images I saw around us became disorienting the longer I held my eyes closed. I opened them, but I avoided gazing directly at her. I recalled how her form was fleeting if I tried to focus. I could still feel her fucking me with wild abandon, but I could not see her. Once I had reoriented myself, I closed my eyes again. She was now reaching one hand between her legs to rub her clit while she fucked herself on my cock. I couldn’t take it much longer, and I felt my climax building. I was heaving up from the mattress to bury myself deeper into her. She was biting her lip and her face contorted in an apparent orgasm.
It was bizarre, because I could not hear her. I felt our flesh slapping together, but there was no sound. I saw her crying out in pleasure, but there was no voice. I could not smell her sex. It was a jarring reminder that this image before me was no living person. I felt a tiny welling of fear. What if this picture of a young woman actually concealed something malevolent? I thought of the legends of the succubi and I felt a rising panic that maybe I shouldn’t have done this.
But it was too late. I felt my groin throbbing with the orgasm and my cum was already splashing inside her. Her eyes flashed with triumph as she made me come.
“Oh fuck, fuck,” I cried out. It was in pleasure as well as in panic as this unnatural beauty drew my seed from my very balls. She rode out my orgasm on my pulsing cock as I grunted, thrust, and gave her all of my load. As the feeling subsided, I saw her smile and lift herself off of my shaft. I opened my eyes, and I could see my cum splattered in long streaks across my body. It dripped down my side onto my bed and glazed my cock.
“Oh my God,” I said, “that felt fantastic.”
I felt her lay down beside me and put her head on my shoulder. I focused on the ceiling and ran my hand over her form next to me. I had caught my breath.
“Can you hear me?” I whispered tentatively. There was a small nod of her head on my shoulder.
“Can you speak? There was a pause, and she shook her head.
“Are you . . . are you a ghost? A long pause. She shrugged, but then she nodded almost imperceptivity. My goosebumps were back.
“Am I . . . am I in danger? She shook her head emphatically that I was not, and she planted a kiss on my cheek to reinforce the point.
I kept asking her questions. With a nod or a shake of her head, I was able to learn much. She had lived in this house and died here. It was a long time ago and previously she had tried to scare people out of living here. She had been the cause of the misfortunes during construction, the sounds I heard, and the broken air conditioning. She denied hurting any of the workers during the building. Apparently, they were just clumsy. She had never tried to communicate with another living person before. She shrugged when I asked why she was still in the house and not at rest.
It seemed she grew tired of my questions, because she put a silencing finger on my lips. She removed her finger, and I felt her plant a kiss on my cheek and lay her head down on my shoulder. I was feeling spent and exhausted. I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep with her nestled against me.
Over the next few days, I continued to feel her comforting presence in the house. Sometimes, I thought I could see her out of the corner of my eye as I say on the couch. Sometimes, I felt her sitting next to me.
We had sex almost every night that week. She would come and lay a gentle hand on me to get my attention while I was getting ready for bed. I would strip off my clothes and she would start to touch me. It was easiest when she was on top. In other positions, if I tried to hold my eyes closed to too long to see what I was doing, I started to get disoriented. But with my eyes open, I sometimes suddenly found that I was holding onto nothing.
I was becoming even more of a recluse. The comfortable feeling in the house was addictive and getting stronger. I was already a bit of a homebody, but now I had a feeling like I didn’t need to go out at all. I was talking to empty rooms assuming that she could hear me. I came to realize that feeling was emanating from her, and her aura was intoxicating.
The difference between how I felt at home and how I felt other places was becoming more intense as well. At work, in the car, or when I went out to run errands, I felt terribly lonely and desperate for interaction. There was a feeling of emptiness in my chest then. When I was in the house, I felt like a pleasant companion was with me. It was jarring.
I was having trouble focusing on work. My friends started to ask if I was doing okay since I had blown them off for a few weeks.
I insisted that I was fine, but I was doubting it. One afternoon, I was sitting in a coffee shop trying to think of what I should do. I believed the near euphoria I felt in the house was unnatural and maybe even harmful if I continued to isolate myself. Being a bit of a homebody was one thing, but this was ridiculous. Notably, I was only able to focus on this question at all when I was not under her influence in the house.
I finished my coffee and went for a walk in the park. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I resolved to make firm plans for the night before I went back home. If I committed myself to seeing someone, I thought I could probably resist the temptation to stay in.
Flipping through my phone, I found Meghan’s number. We’d exchanged a few text messages since we were set up but had not yet gotten together again. I decided to give her a call. She sounded pleasantly surprised to hear from me out of the blue, but she was free, and we made plans to meet for a drink at a place I like.
That evening, Meghan gave me a warm smile when I walked into the bar. She hopped out of the booth she had been sitting in and leaned in so I could peck her on the cheek.
“It’s nice to see you again. I’m glad we kept in touch after the other week, but I was starting to think you weren’t interested in seeing me.” She had her hands on her hips accusingly, but a smile on her face.
I held up my hands. “That’s my fault,” I confessed. “I really wanted to see you again and I should have made it happen sooner. Forgive me?”
Meghan smiled again. “Of course. I’ve been pretty busy too. And you’re doubly forgiven because I love this bar you suggested. Very chill. Nice atmosphere.”
With that concern quickly forgotten, we had a nice second date. The chemistry from the first meeting was still there and we realized we had much more in common than a dislike of crowds. Before we parted ways again, we agreed to an early morning hike the following weekend.
September ended and the days were cooler. The leaves turned color and started to fall. We shared some nice daytrips on the weekends and drinks or dinner after work a few nights a week. Meghan made it clear that she liked to build up slowly to a physical relationship, but our pecks on the cheek turned to long kisses and our hugs led to hands exploring each other’s bodies as we embraced. It seemed clear that things were become serious, but we had not yet truly defined where the relationship was going.
I was enjoying my dates with Meghan, but my encounters with the spirit in the house didn’t stop. I felt very guilty about continuing to have sex with her while I was talking to Meghan. While it was true that Meghan and I had not had a conversation about exclusivity, I had certainly represented myself as single. There aren’t exactly rules of etiquette out there that cover ghosts, but I didn’t feel good about what I was doing. Each day as I left for work, I resolved to stop sleeping with the ghost, but at night when she touched me, I found it hard to resist. I was not in control of my emotions under her influence. The part that made me feel the worst, was that I was developing feelings for the spirit. They weren’t the same as how I felt about Meghan, but they were there.
I lost my handle on the situation completely the first night that Meghan came back with me to the house. I should have considered that was inadvisable, but I was feeling good from a few beers at the bar, and I was more than ready to begin a sexual relationship. We’d taken things slow, which was no problem, but that evening Meghan had whispered in my ear that she wanted to spend the night. I was never going to refuse.
As soon as we entered the house, I knew it was a bad idea. The warmth was missing. Instead, it was unnaturally cool. Meghan was rubbing her hands together as we climbed the stairs. No matter, I tried to tell myself as we entered my bedroom, we would feel warmer together in the bed. We kissed and started to help each other out of our clothes. For the first time, we were feeling each other’s naked bodies. Meghan sighed as I touched her wet sex for the first time and my cock was ready.
We were sliding into the bed, when Meghan suddenly yelped in surprise.
“Ow,” she said with annoyance, “I don’t like that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said with concern. “What did I do?”
“You pinched me really hard.”
“I don’t think so. Maybe by accident?”
“OW! What the fuck?” I held up my hands to show I had not touched her. I could see panic rising in her. I felt a sick knot in my stomach. The ghost. I tried to reassure Meghan, but she was freaking out.
“What is that? Ow!” She was shaking as scrambled up and struggled into her clothes. I tried to calm her again, but she flew out the room and down the stairs. I heard her stumble on the last step. She sobbed as she ran out the door. I tried to follow, but she shouted at me to leave her alone. I didn’t know what else to do other than to let her go.
Meghan would not answer my call the next day. At home, I could feel that the spirit was still upset, as the chill remained.
For a few days, I was depressed all the time, both in the house and at work. One night I felt a tentative hand on my arm and playful fingers on my body. I brushed them away and rolled over in the bed. The anger and frustration I felt was enough to overcome the spell she seemed to put on me. I was entering a negative spiral of emotions. I had to do something to change the status quo.
I decided to do some research about the history of the house, hoping I might be able to figure more about the ghost. With more information, I thought I might be able to unravel the knot I was in. While I had learned a great deal about her, it was not enough to go on. Meghan continued to avoid me.
After a few Saturday mornings spent reading through digitized microfiche newspapers at the local library and requesting old county records, I identified a possibility. A twenty-year-old woman named Emily Carter had tragically perished in a fire in 1954 in the upstairs bedroom — my room, I realized with a chill. This must be her. I soon learned more information that supported my suspicion.
I was walking home from work one afternoon when I noticed an elderly woman struggling to carry some groceries up the front porch of the house across the street. I had not seen her around previously, but I also did not know all of my neighbors yet. I decided to offer her a hand bringing the bags into the house. She gave me a kindly smile and welcomed the assistance.
“Thank you, young man,” she said gratefully in a reedy voice. “My name’s Edith. I’ve been having trouble on the front stairs lately. I’ve been putting it off, but someday soon I’ll have to have a ramp put in.”
As we carried the things into her kitchen, I realized she was about the age that Emily Carter would have been if she had not died tragically. I felt tremor of excitement and curiosity.
“Have you lived here long?” I asked, faking nonchalance.
“Yes, all my life,” she answered pleasantly. “You’ve just moved in across the street?” Ha, I thought! She must know something.
“I have,” I answered. “I wonder, do you know much about my house?”
Edith sighed. “I know it’s been empty for too long. I was glad to see when they fixed it up and it’s nice to see someone living there again.”
“Was there a fire there? I read something in old records about an accident, but I didn’t know that when I bought it.”
She looked down at the ground. “Yes. Yes, there was. I lost my best friend.”
My heart rate surged. This woman definitely knew Emily Carter. I anxiously wanted to pry further, but I was conscious of a need to be sensitive and respectful.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” I was desperate to know what she could tell me, but I held back.
Edith smiled at me. “It’s quite alright. It was so long ago. If you are living there, maybe you should know the story.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“It was a cigarette, they said. Emily had taken up smoking. I think she did it to upset her parents.” Edith shook her head in bewilderment at the memory. “They were so controlling, but then it was a different era. Anyway, her cigarette started a fire and she didn’t get out.”
“What was she like?”
Edith raised her head to look at me. Despite her weathered face, I saw that her eyes twinkled at the fond recollection. “Emily was a feisty one, especially considering the times. She couldn’t wait to get out of her house and out from under her father’s rule. She was twenty when it happened. In another six months, she would have had the money saved up from working to move out.”
“What did they disagree about?”
Edith chuckled. “Boys mostly. They wouldn’t let her date, even after high school, so long as she lived there.”
“That seems pretty crazy. Even as an adult?”
“Their house, their rules I guess,” said Edith with a shrug. “Like I said, it was a different era. But it was hard on her. She was boy crazy and I don’t think she ever went on a date or so much as kissed a boy.”
“She never kissed anyone at twenty years old?”
“Well, that’s not exactly right,” Edith said a bit distantly, with a shake of her head. She was inwardly smirking at something and seemed to be lost in a memory for a moment. I cleared my throat softly and the sound seemed to bring Edith back to the present. She paused, darted her eyes back to me, and then sighed. “She was so close to getting her independence when it happened,” she said and then ruefully shook her head again.
“That’s a bitter irony.”
“Yes,” she agreed, “but as I said, it was a long time ago. I’m happy to see you putting her house to good use. If anything, seeing it empty was always a reminder of the tragedy. It was boarded up for a few years after the fire. Her parents never repaired it and they moved out. Sometime later it was sold, but it always seemed to fall into disuse.” She shrugged and smiled. “I hope you’ll fill it with life.”
“I hope so too,” I agreed. Edith reached out and patted my hand and smiled.
“Well anyway, I must be putting all of this away.” She gestured at the groceries on the counter. “I can manage from here. It’s been a pleasure to meet you, though. It was so nice of you to lend a hand and listen to an old woman’s stories.” She shooed me toward the front door. I assured her that it was my pleasure to help, and I made my way out. As I crossed the street, I looked back over my shoulder to see her still staring out her door. Except, Edith wasn’t watching me, she was looking sadly up at the second story window I knew to have been Emily’s room. My room.
It was all starting to make a lot more sense now. I was now certain that I was sharing my home with the ghost of Emily Carter. It was time to reach out to her again.
That night, I lay in bed apprehensively waiting to see if Emily would come to me. I was still feeling the heavy press of sorrow in the house. It somehow felt colder, although I had checked the thermostat and found the setting should have been comfortable.
I wanted to be with her that night. After putting a name and a story to the face in my visions and the body in my bed, I felt closer to her and wanted to ease her hurt feelings. I also wanted to know her better. I wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, but it felt right in the moment.
The answer to my troubles could not be so simple as cutting off my contact with Emily. I had to find a way to help her without driving myself literally insane through isolation. I wanted to be there for her. I could not abandon her after being her first human link in decades, but I also knew that I needed and wanted a living partner. I wanted Meghan.
I jumped when I first felt the touch of her hand on my elbow. She was there. I next felt her rubbing her hands softly on my groin. The unseen lips kissed my neck. We made love and she climbed off and lay down next to me. The unseen head was resting on my shoulder and an unseen hand was resting on my chest.
Now, with her head on my shoulder, I was ready to ask her about what I had learned.
“Are you Emily Carter?” I whispered in the dark of the room. I felt her tense next to me. Slowly, I felt her nodding her head. “I did some digging in the library. Do you . . . do you remember what happened here?” She shivered and nodded faintly. Her hand clenched on my chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I said regretfully after feeling her emotional reaction. “It must have been awful.” Another shiver and another nod. “I just want to know you. I’m trying to understand.” Her hand unclenched and she rubbed it soothingly on my chest. She was telling me that it was okay to ask.
“There’s something else, too,” I said. “I met Edith.” I felt Emily tense and her head swiveled against my shoulder as if she were now staring at my face. “Edith told me a bit about you. About your life here. And about . . . what happened to you. You were good friends, weren’t you?” Emily lowered he head back to my shoulder. She nodded slowly again, and I felt her hand move as if to wipe her eyes.
I went on. “I don’t think Edith meant to tell me about it, but she seemed to imply that something happened between you. Like . . . maybe a relationship?” I paused to see how she would react. I decided to test out a theory that had been forming in my head since I had noticed a wistful look in Edith’s eyes earlier that day. Emily neither nodded nor shook her head. I took the lack of denial as a form of admission under the circumstances.
“I am pretty certain you are attracted to men,” I said. “Right?” She nodded and rubbed her hand on my chest again. I felt her kiss my neck.
“But something happened with Edith? Your friend?” She nodded. “Do you like women the same way you like men?” She shook her head. “Maybe it was an experiment?” A nod again. It all made sense to me now.
“Did you like it?” I asked. She nodded. “But that wasn’t really what you wanted, was it?” I probed further. Emily shook her head. The hand on my chest slid down my flesh until her fingers brushed my cock. I smiled and chuckled a little as she touched it. “That’s what I thought,” I sighed.
“You’ve been very sad, haven’t you?” I asked. “You’ve been upset since the woman was here. Meghan is her name.” I felt Emily nodding her head on my shoulder.
“I could feel it. The whole house felt . . . sad.” There was no response from Emily.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I . . . I don’t know what the right thing is to do. I feel a strong connection to you. It’s not just sex. But . . . you’re not . . . you’re not of this world anymore.”
Emily nodded. I thought I could feel wet tears on my shoulder, but it was only a fleeting feeling.
“I need a human relationship. I don’t want to hurt you more, and I don’t want to leave you, but I think I need something that you can’t give me.” Emily nodded. I could definitely feel tears on her cheek. “But I also feel dishonest if I continue having sex or having such an emotional connection with you while I have a relationship with a woman. I think it’s like cheating if I hide it.” Another nod. Emily clung tighter to my arm.
A whisper of a plan was forming in my head. I was almost afraid to bring it up for fear of upsetting her all over again, but I took a deep breath and endeavored to explain what I wanted to do. The details of the plan took shape and Emily listened as I spoke. When I finished laying everything out, she nodded. It seemed like a far-fetched idea, but it was worth a try and might give us both what we needed. I endeavored to get some rest as the hour ticked on past midnight. Emily’s unseen head rested on my shoulder until I drifted off.
The next day, after work but before I went home, I called Meghan. She didn’t answer. In fact, after one ring, it went to voicemail. She must have deliberately silenced the call.
I sent her a text asking her to please speak to me because I had something important to explain. She sent me back a one-word answer:
Fine, it said.
I tried to call her number again. I heard her answer, but the greeting was not very warm.
“What is it?” she said. Her voice sounded very impatient.
“Hey, I want to explain to you what happened the other night,” I replied. There was an urgency in my tone. It was perhaps a little pleading.
“How the fuck could you explain that?”
“Listen, I’m sorry,” I said. “That must have been scary and weird, but I think I know what happened and I want you to understand. I really like you, Meghan. I think you like what’s been happening between us, too.”
There was a pause. She didn’t hang up and she didn’t deny her feelings. I took that as small victory and I drove on.
“I think it would be easier to explain in person. Can you meet me for a beer? Tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow is Halloween,” she answered hesitantly.
“Oh, I didn’t realize,” I said. “Do you have plans to go out or something?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I like giving out treats and watching movies on Halloween.”
“How about this,” I suggested. “Let’s meet after work for a drink and talk. If you don’t like how it goes, you can go and be home without missing the things you like. If it goes well, then maybe we can spend Halloween evening together. Your tradition sounds fun.”
After a long pause, Meghan agreed to meet. The plan was in motion, but now it was up to me to explain the unexplainable tomorrow.
Meghan was already waiting at a booth in the corner of the bar when I walked in. She had an untouched beer in front of her and she was holding her arms crossed over her body. I half expected to read anger or fear on her face, but when I walked over to greet her, she stood up and threw her arms around me.
“I’ve missed you,” she sighed.
“I missed you too,” I whispered. We sat next to each other in the booth. I ordered myself a pint and we huddled over our drinks and spoke quietly.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I can’t imagine what you are feeling, but I think I can explain. I hope I can.”
“I’m listening.”
I told her everything, starting from when I moved into the house. She listened without asking any questions. She glared when I described sleeping with Emily. I confessed everything, and also tried to explain the confusing feelings I had felt, the intoxicating influence, and the feelings of depression.
She sighed and shook her head in disbelief. “Jesus,” she said, “what do you want me to say to all of that?”
“I don’t know. It’s unbelievable, I know.”
“It’s fucking crazy, is what it is. I should run out of here.” She shook her head.
“Maybe. I wish you wouldn’t, but why don’t you?” She looked up from her half-empty glass.
“Because . . . I . . . I know what I felt in your room. There was something . . . someone there.” She shivered. “If I hadn’t felt that myself, I would probably already be running.”
“Exactly. You have to see. I’m not crazy. This is real.” Meghan sighed and closed her eyes again. She shook her head. I thought about the blind date I had brushed off after she told me she believed in ghosts.
“I want to believe you. The alternative is that that the guy I’m falling for is delusional and possibly dangerous.” My pulse raced again. She had said she was falling for me.
“I promise you that I am not dangerous. I think this experience has been making me unwell, but I’m coming to grips with it.” Meghan reached over and grasped my hand.
“I don’t think you’re dangerous,” she whispered. “But what do we do now? How do we go forward?”
“Come back to the house with me. I can show you.” Meghan pulled her hand away.
“I don’t know about that. What about . . . her?”
“I talked to her. I told her about you . . . about how I feel about you. I want you to meet her. Please. Trust me.”
Meghan’s arms were folded close to her body again, and I saw a quiver in her lips, but she nodded.
“Okay. I trust you,” she said softly. Despite her words, her expression betrayed her misgivings. “I want to believe you.” I reached over and wrapped Meghan in a hug. She sat passively for a moment, but then returned the embrace with a sigh.
We walked silently to my house holding hands. Coming through the front door, I felt the familiar warm feeling. I wondered if Meghan felt it too. I led her up the stairs.
I laid down on the bed and invited Meghan to lay next to me. She hesitated for a moment, but then she shrugged and slid in next to me. She put her head on my shoulder.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Um, okay, I guess,” said Meghan with a shrug.
“Are you nervous?”
Meghan let out the half a breath she had not realized she had been holding. “Yeah, I guess, a little nervous.” She made a strained little laugh. I rubbed a reassuring hand over her near arm, and she snuggled up against me.
“How do you know when she is here?” asked Meghan.
“She’ll usually touch me arm to let me know she’s there. It can be a bit surprising, even if you are expecting it.”
“How do you know she will want to meet me?”
“Because I asked her.”
“You did?”
“Of course. It didn’t feel right not to be open with both of you anymore. I should have been more open to begin with.”
“What. . . um, what did you tell her about me?”
“I told her that I really cared about you. That I didn’t want to lose you. That I wanted a relationship with you.”
Meghan was contemplating all that implied. She opened her mouth to respond, but then she jumped in surprise.
“What was that?” she yelped as she clutched her arm to her chest.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Nothing’s going to hurt you.” Meghan was breathing deeply and there was fear in her eyes again.
“Oh, God,” she said very loudly, “she’s here. She must be.” She was squirming toward me on the bed away from where the invisible touch had come from.
“You’re okay,” I assured her again. “It’s just like I told you. She’s just letting you know she’s here. Try to relax.”
“I know you told me,” she said, “but I didn’t really believe you.” She was stammering. I rolled over to put my other hand reassuringly on her body.
“It’s just like I told you,” I said again. “She wants to meet you. Everything is going to be fine. If you close your eyes, you might see her in your mind’s eye. I do.”
Meghan tentatively shut her eyes. I heard her gasp. “I see her!” she said excitedly. “I see her! She’s . . . she’s a beautiful woman.”
“She can hear you,” I said. “You can tell her yourself.”
Meghan inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry,” she said to Emily, “I didn’t mean to be rude. You . . . you’re beautiful,” she said.
“Oh,” said Meghan, “she kissed my cheek.” Meghan opened her eyes and looked at me. “Is she always naked when you see her in your head?”
“Well, yes,” I admitted. “The vision of her gets disorienting if you try to keep your eyes closed too long,” I explained. “Sometimes, I just keep my eyes open. Even if I can’t see Emily, I still feel her there.”
“Um, okay,” said Meghan, a little hesitantly. Her chest was rising and falling heavily as she struggled to remain calm. I recalled how shocked I had been at the first unseen touches of Emily’s hands on my body, and I could sympathize with what she must be feeling.
“Oh, uh, wow,” said Meghan. She took a sharp breath and then a little moan escaped her. “Oh, she’s . . . she’s touching me again.” I closed my eyes. I could see that Emily was laying in the bed next to Meghan. One of her hands was on Meghan’s breast massaging it over her sweater and the other was under Meghan’s skirt. Meghan started to pant with excitement.
I leaned over to kiss Meghan, and I delighted in the taste of her sweet lips. As our tongues entwined, I felt Meghan moaning more audibly with pleasure. I slid a hand up her skirt and began to pull her panties down.
“Oh, God,” I heard Meghan whisper as I exposed her sex to Emily’s invisible hand under her skirt. Meghan’s chest was heaving with labored gasps and occasional sighs as Emily continued.
Meghan turned her head to look at me in the bed. “I’ve never been with a woman,” she said, a little uncertainly. “I . . . I’m not gay. I’m not s-sure about this.” Her last stutter was accompanied by a full body shudder in response to some touch by Emily.
“Do you want her to stop?” I asked. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”
She shook her head emphatically. “No, don’t stop,” she implored. I realized that Meghan had directed her response as Emily, not me. She was becoming more comfortable with the idea of speaking to woman that she couldn’t see.
I reached for the waistband of her wool skirt. “Is it a good time to take this off?” I suggested. The plan was working, but I needed to keep the momentum going. Meghan lifted her hips and helped me to pull her skirt and her underwear off. Then she sat up and pulled her sweater and her blouse over her head. While she was sitting upright, I reached to unclasp her bra.
“Just try to relax,” I said as she laid back on the bed and spread her legs for Emily.
Meghan smiled at me suspiciously. “You planned this didn’t you? Both of you?” she said, although her voice seemed lighthearted rather than genuinely accusing. She was being carried away in the moment.
“Yes,” I admitted with a chuckle.
“Mm, good plan,” she said as she squirmed again.
“I thought so,” I said with a wicked grin. Closing my eyes, I could see that Emily now had her face buried between Meghan’s creamy thighs. I opened my eyes again. Meghan’s chest was heaving and her every breath was a moan or a gasp. She wriggled on the bed.
The sight of Meghan’s gorgeous naked body writhing with pleasure was turning me on. My jeans felt tight over my swelling cock. I sat up and quickly peeled off my t-shirt and then laid back on the bed to slide off my pants. Meghan giggled as she watched me shed my clothes. When I laid back next to her, she was still moaning because of what Emily was doing to her, but now she was looking at my hard cock with a hungry expression.
“Oh, I’ve been wanting you since the night that we were interrupted,” she said to me huskily. I closed my eyes to see how Emily would react to this reference to her mischief. She looked up at us both with a wicked and unrepentant grin. “Don’t stop Emily,” commanded Meghan, “you’re making up for it now.” A renewed moan told me that Emily was back at work on Meghan’s pussy.
I couldn’t bear to keep my hands off of Meghan. I rolled toward her to kiss her lips while both hands roamed her smooth skin. Meghan moaned again in appreciation when I started to massage her nipples. Her panting was becoming more intense under the assault of four hands and two mouths. My cock was rock-hard now. I felt an almost painful need to be touched, but I would have to wait as Emily, and I devoted our attention to Meghan.
“Oh God, this is so good,” Meghan murmured. Her breaths became rapid and urgent until a full-body shudder and a sharp cry betrayed that she had reached her climax. She moaned and balled her fists in the sheets as the waves of pleasure washed over her. Coming down from her peak, she caught her breath and then laid back on the bed and stretched her whole body. I was still on my side facing her, but I felt Emily pressing against my hip. I responded to her touch by rolling onto my back in the direction she pushed me.
Emily’s lips slide over the tip of my cock and her tongue flicked deliciously around the head. I grunted with satisfaction as my desperate desire to be touched was gratified, but it seemed that Emily was eager for her own needs to be fulfilled. I felt her release my cock from her soft lips and move to straddle me. I drew a sharp breath as I felt her lowering her pussy onto my cock. The slick flesh of her sex gripped me tightly as she drove herself onto me. With one little bounce, she settled down on me with the full length of my cock buried inside her.
I closed my eyes for a moment and enjoyed the sight of her balanced on my hips fully penetrated. She luxuriated for a moment at the full feeling of having me in her and then she began to rock her hips to grind herself against me and move her pussy around my cock. The feeling of her tight pussy grinding on my cock was electrifying and I was already grunting from the pleasure.
I heard a small sigh from Meghan, and I turned my head to look at her. She was lying on her side looking me with a wicked grin on her face and an excited sparkle in her eye. As I watched her, she closed her eyes briefly to watch Emily riding me. Meghan’s hand was buried between her own thighs, and I could see it moving in a steady rhythm. I could hear her breaths become heavy as her arousal was building up again. Each breath was punctuated by a small moan. The scent of Meghan’s fruity hair product and the aroma of her sex drifted on the air. The bed creaked with each thrust of my hips as I moved my cock in Emily while she rode me.
“Is this . . . okay?” I asked. My words were halting and came between strained breaths.
“Mm, hm,” she moaned. “It’s okay. This is so hot. I understand now. I understand everything.” She ran a hand through her own hair. “I can feel her spirit, it’s just like you said. It’s . . . it’s enthralling.”
“I’m glad you came back with me,” I panted.
“Me too,” she moaned. “Just make sure you save your strength. I want you next.” I felt a jolt of energy in my groin as Meghan moaned again as if to make her point.
I made no answer beyond another grunt of pleasure. Emily changed from grinding against me to lifting her body up and bouncing on my cock. I heard Meghan giggle, and she scooted closer to us on the bed. She closed her eyes for a moment to see where to direct her free hand on Emily’s body. I could feel that her hand was between Emily and I with her fingers rubbing on Emily’s sex around my cock.
I realized that having a human partner in bed with Emily helped solve the problem of where to focus. With my attention split between both women, I was less disoriented and less likely to find myself grasping at empty air. Alone with Emily, I had felt physically gratified and connected to her, but still longing for a human relationship. This was better.
I felt a shiver in Emily’s body, and she frantically pounded herself up and down on my cock. Meghan’s fingers were furiously working between us. Finally, I felt Emily drive herself down again and hold me deeply in her pussy while she came. I felt her slowly pick herself off of me and roll onto the bed on the side of my body opposite Meghan. My cock was still hard and arcing up away from my body. It throbbed with my need to come soon. I had been almost ready when Emily finished but I had not gotten there.
I knew what I really wanted with every fiber of my being. I rolled over on top of Meghan with urgency. She gasped with excitement and surprise as I balanced between her legs. My cock was poised to enter her, and she was lifting her hips off the bed in her own desperation to have me inside her.
She gulped as the tip of my cock found her lips and I pushed into her with a determined thrust. As I looked into her eyes and drove deeper inside her, I knew that sex with a spirit could never be the same as this. An emptiness in my soul was being filled as surely as I filled Meghan’s sex. I lowered my head to kiss Meghan and she closed her eyes and moaned as our lips joined. I started to move my cock inside her.
I was already so close to climaxing, and I knew it would be hard to hold it back for very long. I pumped slowly in and out of Meghan. Her eyes were sparks. With every motion of my cock in her body, she gasped. I felt like she was close to coming again, but I could already feel the tension in my groin building to the point of no return.
Meghan suddenly cried out and thrashed beneath me. I could feel that Emily had slid up next to us and was reaching her hands between us to massage Meghan’s breasts. I felt her other hand rubbing at Meghan’s pussy around the shaft of my cock. Meghan lifted her legs to wrap them around me and take me deeper still. With Emily’s help, Meghan was on the way to her second peak.
“Ugh, that feels so great,” Meghan whimpered. “Harder!”
I did as she obeyed. I started to thrust harder and faster, and our bodies slapped together with a steady beat. Meghan’s moans reached a crescendo and I felt her shaking as my own orgasm erupted. My whole body pulsed with the throbs of pleasure, and I grunted as I pumped my seed inside her. Meghan and I both sighed as we slowed together. I held my cock deep inside her as the fire of our mutual climax faded.
As soon as we caught our breath, I kissed her softly and we stayed in that position for a long lingering moment. Finally, I rolled off of her and she snuggled up to my shoulder. Her hand rested on my chest. I felt Emily snuggle up to my other shoulder. Her invisible hand slid across me until it found Meghan’s hand and the three of us rested on the bed.
It was still surprisingly early. After a time, from the direction of the darkening window, I heard some cheerful voices down on the street.
“Ooh, it’s the first trick-or-treaters!” said Meghan sitting up suddenly. “We should get ready.”
“I don’t really have any candy here,” I said, sitting up as well. “I forgot about it.”
“Well,” said Meghan, “you promised I wouldn’t miss Halloween if I met you for a drink.”
“Um, yes, I did.”
“Just because things went well doesn’t mean you don’t have to keep your promise. You have a car, right?” Meghan said. She was already finding her clothes. I followed her example.
“I do,” I confirmed, “but we could just take a walk to the corner store and grab some bags of treats. I’m sure they have something. You can stay here.”
“Two problems. One, I have tons of candy at my place I have to get rid of. Otherwise, I’ll eat it all myself. Two, I don’t have my costume here.”
“Costume? I thought you weren’t going out?”
“No. It’s for handing out candy. I always wear a costume. It’s fun.”
“Okay, so you want to go home?”
“Yup. You’re driving.”
“Sure,” I said with a smile and a shrug. “Do I get to stay to watch movies or am I just taking you back?”
“Oh, you’re staying,” she said. She tilted her head to the side as she considered something. “Do you have a football jersey or something like that?”
“Well, yes. I have one I wear to watch the game sometimes. Why?”
“Throw that on. You can be a football player. I have a sports-themed costume too.”
“Sure. If you’re inviting me into your tradition, I can dress the part. What is your costume?”
“You’ll see.” Meghan gave me a wink. We both finished getting dressed and I snagged my jersey from the closet.
Before we walked out of the room, Meghan hesitated. She walked back and sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room.
“Um, Emily? Are you there?” she said tentatively. I saw Meghan jump a little, and I assumed that Emily must have made presence known.
“Emily, I’m so glad that Michael introduced us. We’re going to go to my house. Is that okay?” Meghan’s hand seemed to be draped around Emily’s invisible figure. Closing my eyes briefly, I saw Emily sitting next to Meghan on the bed with her head on her shoulder to communicate by nods.
“I think I’ll see you again soon,” Meghan said. She immediately cringed at her choice of words to a spirit that was invisible. “Oh, sorry,” said Meghan. “You know what I mean. I want to be your friend, not your rival. Okay?”
Emily must have given Meghan some answer that she liked, because Meghan smiled as she stood up from the bed and we walked down the stairs to leave.
It didn’t take too long to drive to Meghan’s apartment, but I did have to drive slower because of all the miniature ghouls, ghosts, and goblins darting around in the darkness. They laughed and called out excitedly as they went from door to door with their parents.
When we went inside, Meghan pointed out where I could find the bags of candy and a big bowl in the kitchen. She asked me to get the treats ready while she went upstairs to put on her costume. Not long after, I heard her coming back down the stairs and I came out of the kitchen to meet her in the front room.
“Oh, wow,” I said as I caught sight of her costume. Meghan was dressed as a cheerleader in a blue pleated skirt with a striped hem. Her blue top showed just a hint of her midriff and it had “CHEER” emblazoned in bold letters across her chest. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a matching ribbon tied in a bow.
“You like it?”
“Uh, yeah. I sure do.”
“Good,” she said with a smile. She swished her skirt back and forth. I walked over to her to take her in my arms and kiss her. She giggled as my hand found the small gap between her top and the skirt and rubbed her back.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Meghan pulled away. “The first batch of trick-or-treaters!” she said as she picked up the bowl of candy and answered the door.
She was greeted by a gaggle of little kids in costumes that cried “Trick or treat!” in shrill little voices. Meghan complemented their costumes as she handed out the candy. Apparently, Meghan knew these neighbors, because she and the woman who was accompanying the kids exchanged a warm greeting.
“Oh, who’s the football star, Meghan?” asked the mother, as she noticed me walking over to join them at the door. “I like the matching costumes. Cheer captain and quarterback?”
“Something like that,” said Meghan with a chuckle. She slipped an arm around my waist. “This is my boyfriend, Michael.” She grinned at me, and I smiled back.
“Oh, well then,” said the woman to me, “you’re a lucky guy. Meghan’s about the nicest girl on the block.” The woman made a not very discreet face at Meghan that I interpreted as her approval of me.
“Thank you, Ms. Meghan!” chorused the little kids as they turned to scamper to the next house. Meghan waved as they left and then shut the door. She leaned against the door and bit her lower lip. Her wry grin invited a response to what she had just said.
I took the bait. “Boyfriend, huh?” I said, as I took the candy bowl from her and set it on a table by the door.
“You heard me,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “What do you think?”
“I think that sounds pretty good.” I leaned forward to pin her against the door with a passionate kiss. My hands found the bare skin of her midriff again. She moaned very softly.
The doorbell rang. I groaned with annoyance and Meghan giggled as she pushed past me to grab the candy bowl. The process of greeting the little ones and their parents repeated itself and Meghan introduced me to another set of neighbors as her boyfriend.
Next, we sat on the couch while we waited for more kids to come by, and Meghan put on the movie. She suggested that red wine would go best with the Halloween chocolate we were inevitably going to sneak from the bowl. She got us both a glass.
It was a thoroughly enjoyable evening. We had to pause the movie every few minutes to answer the door, but this neighborhood had a charming sense of community that was infectious even to an outsider. By the time the knocks on the door ended and we shut off the outdoor lights, we had finished the bottle of wine.
The movie still had a few minutes to run, but we didn’t really watch. We held each other on the couch and kissed. My hands roamed under Meghan’s top and the hem of her sexy skirt. Judging by her giggles and sighs, she didn’t mind missing the end of the movie. I found that the panties she wore under the skirt where damp with her arousal and her fingers flitted over the bulge that was growing in my jeans.
I put both hands up under her skirt to pull down her underwear. As I slipped them off her feet, Meghan lifted her hips and started to push down the waistband of her skirt. I reached a hand to stop her.
“Maybe leave the uniform on?” I asked. Meghan laughed playfully.
“You really do like it, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s actually a huge turn on for me. Kind of a big fantasy.”
“Is that right? Well I get turned on when the home team wins the big game.” She smiled and started to slide her skirt up a few inches. I felt a surge of excitement and my cock was aching to be released.
I leaned over to kiss her again and put my hand up her skirt. She groaned as I softly massaged her pussy with my fingertips. Next, I gently guided her with my hands on her hips to turn over so that she was kneeling and bending forward over the plush arm of the couch. She arched her back to push her skirt-draped butt back toward me while I undid my belt and kicked off my pants and underwear.
She let out a little gasp when I came up behind her and grasped her hips. My hard cock was straining up from my groin. I flipped up the skirt to reveal her round butt and her glistening pussy. She was wet and welcoming as my cock pressed into her. She moaned again and pushed back on it.
I started to pump my cock in and out of the slick squeeze of her pussy. With each thrust, my hard rod penetrated deeply past the soft and yielding grip of her lips and I enjoyed the snug walls of her sex. I felt the satisfying slap of our bodies and heard the sounds of her breath and our flesh. I could smell her near me. When she climaxed, I could hear the cries of pleasure. She giggled when she heard my own groans as I came inside her the second time that night.
We collapsed on the couch. Meghan pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and we both snuggled under it. I was reminded again why a relationship with a spirit would never be enough on its own. It would always leave me feeling empty in the end.
“I’m so glad you called me,” she said again. “I was hurting without you. This feels so right.”
“I’m glad too.” I gave her shoulder a little squeeze. “So, should we discuss the ethereal elephant in the room?”
“That was alliterative.”
“It was intentional.”
“Well played.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“I don’t think she’s in this room anyway. My house isn’t the haunted one.”
“Oh my god,” I said, “that’s not the point.”
“I mean, I think your haunted house is exactly the point.”
“Well, yes. That’s what I want to talk about.”
“You were sleeping with Emily while you were talking to me. That’s the real elephant in the room, right?” There was a long silence.
“Um, yes,” I said. Meghan breathed in heavily and let it out slowly.
“That part doesn’t feel great,” she said.
“No. Not to me either. I don’t feel good about it. I’m sorry.”
“On the other hand,” she allowed, “we weren’t really in a relationship. And I think I understand now what you said before about the effect she was having on you. I felt it too tonight.”
“I really don’t think she meant to hurt me. I think it’s just a powerful radiation of her emotions. I don’t think she can help it.”
“I think you’re right. She did pinch me, though.”
“Yeah, that was petty jealousy, I think. I don’t think she would have truly hurt you. She just wanted to scare you.”
“I think that’s right, too” she agreed.
“I definitely never wanted to hurt you.” Meghan nodded.
“So, what now?”
“Well, we are together now. It’s not ambiguous. It’s not grey. We should be faithful and open with each other,” I said.
“Then what about Emily?” There was a long pause.
“We have to decide if we want to let her into our relationship going forward. Together?”
“You said earlier that was what you and Emily wanted.”
“Yes, that was our idea.”
“What if I said no.”
“I would respect that and abide by it. I would stop any romantic contact with her.”
“Would she?”
“Yes. We talked about it. It would be hard for her, but I think she understands.”
“Would you leave that house if I asked you?”
“Yes. I would move,” I agreed. “But is that what you really want?” I asked tentatively. Meghan paused and sighed again.
“No. I don’t,” she said finally with a shake of her head, “but I needed to know whether or not I’m really your number one.”
“You’re my number one.” I held her a little tighter.
“Then let’s see if this works. With Emily, I mean. But it’s not an equal three-way partnership. It can’t be. I think you see that.” She turned her head to look me in the eye. She searched them deeply.
“I do,” I said.
“We’re two people in a committed relationship who choose together to invite Emily to be a part of it, but only so long as we are both onboard.”
“Agreed.”
Meghan and I continued to talk this through for some time. Having essentially planned with Emily to bring this about, I knew she would understand. Emily could never give me everything that I needed in a partner, but Meghan and I were her only hope for any relationship whatsoever. For some reason, her spirit was not at rest. It had been nearly seventy years since Emily had tragically passed, and I was the first person she had felt able to connect with. Meghan and I both believed that Emily would add something to our relationship rather than harming it, if the dynamic was carefully considered and managed.
The next day after work, Meghan met me at my house. We walked hand-in-hand upstairs to the bedroom and laid on the bed with a space between us. I called out to Emily, and soon we felt her join us on the bed. We snuggled close so we could feel her nodded responses to yes-or-no questions. It was cumbersome, as it frequently was to communicate with Emily. After a long conversation, we all understood one another. The three of us spent the night together in the house.
Emily remained a positive presence now. I continued to feel her comforting aura around me when I was at home. Sometimes I talked to her and sometimes she would put her head on my shoulder to have a two-way conversation. It was always pleasant, but no longer overpowering. She respected the boundaries that Meghan and I set.
Meghan and I continued to grow in our relationship as well. We spent many evenings at quiet bars enjoying a drink together or weekends getting away from the bustle of the city. We spent more than half our nights together too. Sometimes we stayed at her apartment when we wanted time by ourselves, and sometimes at my house where Emily might join us. The three of us spent long hours lying on the bed talking or making love. Even at my house, there were nights when Emily elected to leave us alone.
For Meghan and I, our connection with Emily was far more intimate and important than it was merely sexual, although she did enrich our sex life. A healthy balance had been established.
After six more months, Meghan and I decided to move in together. Naturally, we elected to live in my house with Emily. There was a period of adjustment, but we learned how to communicate with Emily when we wanted privacy. The mutual relationship only got stronger.
It wasn’t much longer before Meghan and I had serious conversations about getting married. We were both in our thirties, and both wanted children. From early days, we understood that we didn’t want to waste time on a casual or temporary relationship.
In late spring, on a beautiful mountain top while on a weekend getaway, I asked Meghan if she would marry me. Her answer was never in doubt, but we were still both teary-eyed with happiness when she said that she would.
Engagement changed nothing between the three of us. In fact, the night we told Emily we were getting married was one of the most passionate the three of us ever enjoyed.
If anything, Meghan and I were moving ever closer to being truly in love with Emily together. Less than a year after the wedding, Meghan went off her birth control. Based on the timing, Emily was an integral part of the night that Meghan and I believe our first daughter was conceived.
I thought that Emily would be present in our lives forever. Meghan and I were openly discussing how her existence would impact the experience of raising children, but there was no question that she was welcome in our family.
It was not to be.
There came a time when Emily would leave us. Meghan was just beginning to show her pregnancy. The three of us were cuddling in the bed after sex late one night. Rather than the usual warm aura we enjoyed when Emily was with us, the feeling in the room was unfamiliar. If I had to name it, I would call it bittersweet. Emily hugged us both in turn. I felt tears on her invisible cheek. Not realizing what was about to happen, but appreciating the sentiment of the moment, Meghan and I snuggled close and held her tight. Gradually, almost imperceptivity, the weight of her faded away. The aura she emanated in the space died out and Meghan and I found ourselves holding each other alone.
Somehow, we both understood that Emily was never coming back. Meghan sobbed in my shoulder and my own eyes were very wet as we processed the loss. It so happened that it was just after midnight on October 31, Halloween, and exactly three years to the day from the first time that Emily, Meghan, and I had made love together.
To us, initially, it was like a death in the family. We mourned her absence in our lives and the empty place on the bed beside us. Gradually, realized that Emily’s spirit was now free from its torment. She had been trapped for decades in a limbo between death and life. We came to believe that forging a relationship with us had set her free. It had begun as merely physical, progressed to a loving connection, and finally she had helped us form a new family. Eventually, we realized that we should not mourn Emily, but rejoice in the peace she had found. I found a picture of Emily from a search of the local high school’s digitized archives, and had it made into a portrait that we hung on the walls with our family photos. To our first-born daughter, we passed on the name of Emily.
I think our neighbor, Edith, knew that something remarkable had happened. When she came over for dinner once, I found her staring at the picture of Emily on the wall. When she realized I was standing there, she turned and looked into my eyes with a thousand questions written on her face and a tear in her eye. The day that little Emily came home from the hospital and Edith came over to see her, Edith cried when I told her the name. We remained close until the sad day that Edith passed away. Edith had no children of her own, but she treated ours like they were her nieces or nephews.
Our family grew in that house. Emily’s presence was gone, but we filled it with joy and love. We were always vague about the picture on the wall when the kids asked about it, but we told them Emily was part of our family. Every Halloween, Meghan and I secretly celebrated the spirit that touched our hearts and changed our lives for the better forever.
I don’t expect you to believe any of this. If it didn’t happen to me, I never would. Meghan and I will always believe.
Thank you for reading! This is my entry in the Halloween Story Contest 2022. Your feedback is very welcome. If you enjoyed it, please rate or comment or send me an email to let me know.