Cynthia's Many Lovers - Tamebylatinplayer©
When she tried to step into the master bedroom that night, dressed in her clingy while lingerie, she discovered that something invisible was barring the doorway. It was her father's ghost, and he was trying to keep her from spending the night on his former bed.
She knew that he would try to stop her at some point, because that's what he would have done if he were still alive, and her reaction was to strip down right there in the hallway. Fully nude, Cynthia stepped forward, and knowing full well that her father's ghost would rather shrink back than come in contact with the flesh of his naked daughter. He moved away quickly, and she imagined her father being both stunned and angry as she waltzed into the bedroom, pushed the covers aside and lay down on the bed.
The ghost was indeed angry, and wondering if perhaps Cynthia was trying to drive him out of his own house with her explicit actions. He found himself in a frenzy of confusion, and darted about the house that night, from the living room to the garage, over to the bedroom, and back again.
The ghost paused at the edge of the bed a few times while Cynthia slept, wondering if he should do something drastic to get her to leave his bed, such as scaring her or jolting her awake. It just didn't feel right for her to by lying there in the nude, on what used to be his bed!
In frustration, the ghost reached out and yanked the covers back, but instantly regretted doing so, for in the thin glare from the nightlight, he could see his daughter's naked body on the bed. Her back and butt showed soft tan lines, and she groggily rolled over and absently reached for the covers, giving him yet another look at her pert breasts and shockingly, a glimpse of her clean-shaven mound. The ghost took several steps back in shame.
"I know you're there, I can feel you." Cynthia's eyes fluttered open. "And I know that you're looking at me."
The ghost of her father started away, thinking, surely his daughter was trying to get rid of him. Why else would she be doing the things she was doing to him? It had to be because he was scaring away all of her boyfriends!
"Dad, come back." Cynthia called out.
The ghost turned back, as it sensed a gentle plea in the young woman's voice.
"I have to tell you something." She insisted. "But I don't want to yell it across the room."
Full of doubt and uncertainty, the ghost stepped back. As it approached the bed, it snatched up the covers and tossed them over Cynthia's legs.
His daughter made no attempt to cover herself up further. "Dad, I've been looking for Mr. Right all this time, and I finally found him. You're my Mr. Right. I love you, just like I did before, but I love you in a different way now, too."
She waited for some kind of response from him, expected it, really, but when nothing fell over in the room and startled her, she brazenly continued. "I know you can touch things if you really want to, and I want you to touch me. I know you're probably not ready to hear this, but I want you to make love to me. I want this more than anything I've wanted before in my entire life. I can wait... until you're ready. I'll be right here on this bed and waiting for you."
The ghost fled.
Days passed by. Then weeks.
Cynthia kept sleeping in the master bedroom in the nude, and every once in a while she asked out loud if her father's ghost was still in the house, as she hadn't heard a peep from him ever since that fateful night.
The ghost went to her side, deep into one night. It watched over Cynthia's sleeping form for several hours, and considered how the young woman was no longer the cute little girl he envisioned in the past, and had somehow blossomed into the beautiful and sensuous creature lying before him.
And the ghost was lonely as well, as he was seemingly stuck in this dimension, with no one to talk to, and no way to figure out what was to come next in his bizarre existence. All that remained were hazy and fleeting memories of the past, and the one solid thing in his mind, the one tangible thing that was keeping him from losing his thoughts altogether, was protecting Cynthia.
"I know you're standing there." Cynthia shifted around to face him.
She tossed the covers aside, and underneath, she was nude as usual.
"If I could touch you first, I would." She grinned. "But I can't even see where you are." She patted her thigh. "Touch me here."
The ghost looked over the daughter's form. She was on her side, with one arm propping up her head, her full breasts dangling, and in the waning light, the ghost could see the deep contour where her waist ended and her hips began.
"I won't bite you." She joked.
If he were in the flesh, he would have undoubtedly refused. But he was no longer a man, or at least a living one, at any rate, and as far as he could recall, there were no guidelines prohibiting the disembodied from engaging in amorous activities with the bodied. Or maybe a ghost just didn't have the same inhibitions that a living person did? If a ghost could sigh, he was sighing now, and with more than a small amount of trepidation, he reached out and slid his hand across his daughter's thigh.
Cynthia gasped, and the ghost pulled its hand away as if it had done her harm.
"I felt it." She said. "I felt your fingers there, and they were cold and warm at the same time. And it left tingles all over me." She shifted around on the bed, lying on her back, and as the ghost watched, she turned her legs toward him and spread them wide. "I can't wait any more. I want to feel you inside of me."
The ghost of her father could only stare at the seductive vision before him. He became aroused, in a way that he'd never imagined a ghost could feel, and he looked down at his ghostly clothing, which resembled the way he usually dressed when he'd been incarnate and about to go to work. He wondered if ghosts could even take their clothes off, when he imagined himself naked, and he suddenly noticed that his clothing had all vanished. He was now nude, and the erection he saw jutting out from his abdomen was as strong and firm as those he'd had when he was encased in flesh.
And as badly as his daughter wanted him, he realized that he now wanted her.
He slipped onto the bed, grasping and producing shivers from Cynthia as his hands touched both her knees. With an attentive care, he leaned forward and softly, gently, invaded her moist insides.
Cynthia cried out, her body erupting into tiny, delicious spasms at the ghostly contact, yet she made no attempt to break their union. And her father's ghost, feeling and craving the grip her solid body around him, shuddered in a ghostly way as well. As their lovemaking began in earnest, Cynthia uttered those moans and squeals that no father should hear escaping the mouth of his own offspring, and the former man was surprised that for a young woman whom he'd always thought of as being timid and humble, Cynthia's groans were deep and guttural, fierce and full of lust.
Cynthia's climax was as grand and spectacular as the movement of a mountain by a man, and as she convulsed in the deepest throes of her excitement, her sensuality and responsiveness may have penetrated the veil between the living and the non-living, for the ghost of her father found himself infected by her wanton cries, and having a ghostly orgasm as well.
When their bonding was complete and exhausting, the ghost pulled away, only to have Cynthia sit up and plead for his return. "Please don't go. I want you to lie down on the bed, so that I can sleep next to you." She lowered her head in regret. "It will make me feel as if you never left me."
The ghost walked over to the opposite side of the bed, and although he didn't think he needed sleep, as he never recalled having slept as a ghost before, he nevertheless lay down. Cynthia fell asleep some time later, and the ghost, wide awake as he always was, caringly placed his hand over hers, and relished the heat emanating from her warm body. He too, was reminded of the time when he was still alive.
You might suspect that the next night would have proved awkward for either Cynthia, or for the ghost, but this was not so. Cynthia dispensed with the trappings of lingerie as she stepped nude into the master bedroom, and after sensing that the ghost was near, she made her way directly onto the bed. She positioned herself on her hands and knees, with her meaty rump held high in the air, and salaciously invited the ghost to join her.
If there was any hesitation from the ghost's end, we shall never know, as the phantom exhibited no apparent misgivings, nor really, could he, as he took his place behind her. As after their previous encounter, both former man and current woman found themselves well satisfied after the erotic coupling took place.
This might have gone on forever, with both sides willing to attempt new and different placements and strategies in their carnal meetings, except that yet another insistent young man stepped into Cynthia's life, and whereas her previous love interests had failed, and failed miserably at that, this one markedly succeeded. His name was Anthony, and he was a well disciplined man, with a cool demeanor, lofty ambitions and the sensibilities of a mother hen. In short, he was very much like Cynthia's father.
The young woman developed a sudden infatuation with Anthony, and she so dearly hoped for her father's approval when she finally mustered up enough courage to invite him over. Anthony was a perfect gentleman, and neither did he make any disparaging remarks when Cynthia suggested that her house might be haunted, nor did he make any unwanted sexual advances toward her, although the lovelorn Cynthia very much regretted this later.
Anthony even stated that the house had a nice, homey feel to it, and much to the ghost's pleasure, complimented her father's taste for some of the additions and improvements he'd previously made to the place.
The ghost deemed the young man a worthy suitor for his beloved daughter, and in so many actions passed his sentiments along to Cynthia, who was overjoyed that finally, after so many years of searching, she'd found the right man.
They were married two years later, and there was an unseen guest present at their wedding, watching the proceedings with all the merriment that a ghost can exude, and afterwards, this grinning specter finally knew that his beloved daughter would be in good hands, and that he no longer needed to watch over her. As his way of saying good-bye to Cynthia, the ghost walked up behind the newlyweds. They were smiling and holding hands as their picture was being taken, and the ghost patted his invisible hand down on their joined ones.
Anthony shuddered, and wondered where the sudden breeze had come from, but Cynthia knew better. She smiled even more widely, as the final shots were being snapped, and afterward, she turned back to where she sensed her father's spirit still stood, and whispered the words; "Good-bye, daddy."
The ghost of Cynthia's father was never heard of again.