A Naked Woman Killed Me On Nude Day


I knew what happened to me, immediately after it happened, but it was too late for me to do anything about it. I was already dead, killed instantly, by a drunk driver, no doubt, I speculated. Besides, reeling from it, still trying to make sense of it, while not understanding any of it, I was in shock. Only, if I'm dead, why am I still thinking and having an internal monologue?

As a way of protecting me from the panic and fear that I instantly felt, just before the accident, adrenaline and cortisol filled my brain. Once, I realized those bright lights were headlights and that I was about to be hit by a car and about to die, the natural chemicals that flowed through my body switched to dopamine and serotonin. Immediately, after I was struck and dead, killed instantly, the endorphins kicked in to help me to forget the details of the horrific accident, until later, when, no doubt, I could better handle the reality of it. Naturally and painlessly, I was eased into processing the information that I was a dead fucking ghost latched onto to this murderous woman forever. Sorry, but I'm angry.


There, I feel better verbalizing my outrage.

"In the name of the Father, The Son, and The Holy Ghost, God please help me."

Normally, this process of the body pumping adrenaline, cortisol, dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins is a slower process, over a longer period of time. Even though it all happens naturally, as a way for the body, namely the brain, to protect itself, I went through the cycle quicker because of the type of accident that it was and how quickly I died. I experienced the chemical process and biological changes at light speed, maybe because my transition from life to death and from being a living and breathing human to being a haunting and scary ghost was faster than what a normal person experiences going from life to death. Moreover, I saw in all happen in super slow motion. That, being struck by the car, was the last thing that I remember of the accident, before dying and immediately returning as Casper the ghost.

"Damn, I wish I knew the things then that I know now."

I know this is what everyone says, that it happened so fast, but it did. It really did happen fast. It happened too fast, faster than I could possibly process it, but that was when time slowed and everything happened in super slow motion. It was weird going from super fast motion to super slow motion and back again to real time. The funny thing is that I never felt any pain.

Even though I had no time to react, to jump out of the way, or to even brace myself, I watched it all happen in super slow motion. Nonetheless, when it was over, finally, I was instant road kill, a bloody tire smudge, and a human smear, on the highway of life that led to my road of death, devastation, and destruction. It was surreal seeing myself smeared all over the pavement.

"Nice tires, by the way. Continentals?"

As if being chased by police, as if in a great hurry to get away and make good her escape, or to get wherever the Hell she was going in such a rush, my assassin, my murderer, the woman who killed me, didn't even stop or slow down.

"Hey! What's the rush? What's the hurry? What are you going to a fire? Slow down! Citizens arrest! Help! Hit and run driver! Stop the fucking car!"

Matter of fact, she sped up and drove even faster, as if driving right through me, which is what she did. She literally drove right through me. For a brief moment, in a gush of wind and in an instant of forceful energy pushing me, before the ensuing explosion of skin, bone, hair, blood, and clothes, I actually felt the car pass right through me, just before I felt nothing. It was a weird feeling, a sensation akin to having a giant tooth with foot long roots pulled at the dentist, only having your entire body pulled inside out and being yanked out of your skin through your bellybutton. I wondered if this is what it feels like being born.


It was a horrifically weird experience and I hope to God, I never feel anything like that again. Only, I suspect that, when the vast universe finally sucks me from this Earth, my last conscious sensation may feel a little bit like going through a black hole and being turned into spaghetti, while having my molecules ripped apart, before feeling like what I've already experienced being hit by this car and dying. First pushed and then pulled from life to death, yet, again, if that's what I have to look forward to, then it sucks being me and it sucks being a ghost.

I want my life back. It's not fair. I wasn't ready to die. I'm too young to die. I still had beer in the fridge to drink and I didn't even get a chance to check my lottery numbers.

"What's the number? Does anyone know?"

What does it matter? It doesn't matter now. With my luck, I probably had the winning ticket. Maybe my landlord will find it, check to see if it's a winner, and claim the jackpot. Good luck to him.

To my credit, I made a bloody mess of her new car. That will teach her to smash into someone and to explode me in the way that she did. How dare she do that to me? There were bits and pieces of me all over her windshield, her hood, her roof, and her bumper. Yet, when I looked down at myself, I was okay.

Still in one piece and feeling as fit as a fiddle, even the bit of arthritis that I had in my shoulder is gone. There I was, right there with her in her car and sitting beside her. This is too much. Wow! Feeling much like a super amusement ride at the amusement park, what a rush? Let's do it again, or maybe not.

The good part was that there was no need for me to wear a seatbelt anymore. I always hated those things, anyway. You'd think after making them for sixty years, they'd make them more comfortable.

"Hello," I said looking over at her with my biggest and best smile.

"Ahhhhhhhhh," she screamed. "Ahhhhhhhhh!"

"Ahhhhhhhhh," I returned her scream, as if greeting her.

"Ahhhhhhhhh," she continued screaming.

She just kept on screaming, while driving. For the life of me, or is that the death of me, I thought she was going to have another accident.

"Watch the road," I said. "And for God's sakes, slow down, before you have another accident."

"Ahhhhhhhhh," was all she said, while looking over at me and driving at breakneck speed.

If I could have slapped her, I would have, but when I tried doing just that, my hand went right through her. Now that was a strange sensation having my hand pass right through a person.

"Funny running into you," I said trying my best to make light of a horrid situation. "Of course, it's the other way around with you running into me," I said turning forward to look out the windshield.

Had I not been in shock, had I not been full of endorphins that made me feel good, calm, and relaxed, I'd never joke about being dead, especially with my hit and run killer sitting right there beside me. For sure, I'd be the one screaming and screaming at her. For sure, I'd be the one attempting to kill her, trying to make her crash, for what she did to me.

"Ahhhhhhhhh," she continued screaming.

"Stop screaming. You're giving me a bloody headache," I said feeling bad for yelling at her, as soon as I did. "Just relax and take a breath and the both of us will get through this together. Okay?"

It was then that I realized she was naked? She wasn't wearing a stitch of clothes. Why was she naked? Is she a nudist? I've been driving for more than 10 years and I've never seen a nudist driving a car on the road before. Now that I think of it, other than those Internet porn sites, I've never seen a nudist.

"Okay," she said nodding her head in agreement. "I'm sorry for screaming. I'm okay. I just killed a man and now his apparition is sitting beside me in my car talking to me and making jokes."

Suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed, I looked away and when I did, I couldn't help but notice the river of red blood and fleshy body parts of me that littered and painted her windshield red and stained her blue paintwork like so much spilt, sticky grape juice.

"Those wipers aren't helping matters much, are they? It's just smearing me all over your windshield. It's quite disconcerting to see my own eye ball staring back at me through your windshield. I really made quite the mess of your new car. I'm sorry. I had no idea there was so much blood in my body," I said watching my eyeball move back and forth with her wiper blades, as if my own eye was staring at me. Talk about disconcerting, that was just too weird.

Why was I apologizing to her? How the Hell fast was she going to explode me like that? I was literally in pieces. After seeing the horrid condition of my body and her car, I'm just glad that I didn't feel anything, except for feeling queasy seeing my bloody body parts, especially my eyeball, smeared all over her windshield.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God," she said. "I killed someone. I just killed you," she said turning to look at me. "Ahhhhhhhhh."

"Please be quiet. Please stop your screaming. There's a carwash the next exit," I said. "It's all automatic, you just put your money in the machine and the machine does the rest. I'd pay cash, if I were you, of course. I don't recommend you using your credit or debit card, for obvious reasons. Fortunately for you, there won't be anyone else getting their car washed at," I said looking at my non-existent wristwatch, before looking back at her. "What time is it?"

"Eight o'clock," she said shaking and looking, as if she was in shock, too, which she probably was, no doubt. After all, how often do you kill someone?

"My watch is stuck to your bumper, I'm afraid, with the rest of me. I dare say that I won't be needing a wristwatch anymore, anyway. It was a Timex, though, and I can't help but wonder if it's still ticking, after having taken a licking. Anyway, as I was saying about the car wash, there won't be anyone else getting their car washed this time of night, especially on a rainy night."

She took the next exit.

"Where do I go from here?"

"It's there on the right."

Never having been here before, never having taken this exit, it was strange that I somehow knew an automatic carwash existed and which exit to take for it. I don't know how I knew, I just did. Maybe my new psychic phenomena has something to do with me being dead.

She pulled in and the car wash did the rest. The moving steel runners beneath her car even untangled my dead and mangled body and released me from her undercarriage. As she drove away, I turned in time to see myself in a crumpled mess so bloody still and awkwardly twisted. One arm and one leg was missing, probably left somewhere back there on the highway. The rest of me looked so dead.

With my head turned in an awkward position, it didn't even look like me; it was surreal seeing myself looking like that. I was such a bloody mess. I haven't look as bad, since I had the flu that turned into pneumonia. Imagine, I survived all of that for this. I never puked and shit so much in my life, as I did when I was so deathly ill with the flu, and then to have it turn into pneumonia was a double whammy, but nothing like this.

I couldn't wrap my brain around seeing my lifeless body and leaving myself behind, when I was there sitting in her car. Actually, as if losing my child at the mall, I felt the same unsettling, panicked feeling, when leaving myself behind. Wanting to go back, I wanted to have her pick me up and put my dead body in the backseat of her car. Weird.

"How can you just be so calm? I just killed you," she said looking at me, before watching the road. "Did it hurt?"

"Did it hurt? I don't remember, actually. I'm still in shock, obviously. It hasn't registered, yet," I said looking at her. She was pretty, but not pretty enough for me not to hate her for what she did to me. I looked at her with a face full of resentment. "You could, at least, say you're sorry."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry," she said returning my look. "Only, I don't understand why you're here."

"Duh? Obviously, I'm a ghost. I'm your ghost and I'm haunting you for killing me. Boo."

"This can't be happening. I don't believe in ghosts," she said looking at me again, before paying more attention to the road. "You're naked," she said looking down at my penis. "Why are you naked?"

"I dunno, but I could ask you the same thing," I said staring at her tits.

"Oh, God," she said looking down at herself. "I am naked. With all that just happened, I didn't realize, I mean, I forgot. Stop staring at me, you letch," she said.

"Sorry," I said. "So, why are you naked," I asked again.

"I was invited to a Nude Day party. Everyone was to be naked, all my friends, only, I couldn't show my body like that. I've never been naked in public before and I'd be so embarrassed, so I stripped off my clothes in the car, as a way for me to get used to the idea of being naked, before attending the party. Otherwise, I wouldn't go. Otherwise, I couldn't go through with it. Otherwise, once I got there, I'd chicken out, turn around, leave, and go home."

"And you've been drinking?"

"I had a couple. Yeah. I did. I needed the courage to get naked."

"So, why didn't you just decline the invitation?" I looked over at her tits. She had nice tits, a B cup with puffy pink areolas and a shaved pussy.

"Because I didn't want to be the prude and the one always left out of the fun activities. I'm tired of being the maiden wallflower. I wanted to be accepted for once," she said looking over and giving me a longer look. "Lonely and hoping to meet a nice guy, I wanted to have a good time, even if it meant having casual sex with someone, something I've yet to experience."

"Pay attention to the road," I said grabbing at the wheel, but feeling nothing but air. "You don't want to kill someone else, yourself, or me again, now do you?"

It was then that I wondered if I can be killed again. I wondered, now that I'm dead, can't I be killed, again? Maybe, as a ghost, if I was killed again, I'd become something else, but what? Or, maybe once you're dead, you're dead. I dunno. As I did in life, even in death, I still had questions.

I should have been given a handbook or something, when I died. Shouldn't there be a Guardian Angel helping me, advising me, and guiding me to make the transition from life to death? With my luck, my Guardian Angel is on vacation or busy helping someone else. Definitely, I should have been debriefed by someone. Hey, it isn't like I die every day. As I didn't know what's going on in life, I don't have a clue what's going on in death.

"I can't believe I killed you. I can't believe you're dead. I can't believe you're sitting here now beside me as a ghost, my own personal ghost." She said looking straight ahead, before looking at me with tears running down her cheeks. "I never saw you. I was busy texting."

"We've never actually introduced ourselves. I'm Paul and you are?"

I reached over to shake her hand, but her hand went right through mine.

"I'm Andrea, but my friends call me Andy. Oh, God, oh, God," she said again, while looking at me and withdrawing he hand, as if she had just touched something slimy. She was hyperventilating.

"Take a breath. Relax. It's nice to meet you, Andrea," I said not knowing what else to say, especially when I wanted to say, I wish I had never met you.

"Please, call me Andy, if you'd like. It's the least I can have you do, since I killed you, that is, if you think of me as a friend."

"If it's any consolation, Andy, if I met you, while still alive, I'd hit on you. You're pretty hot," I said looking down and leering at her nakedness.

"I'm so embarrassed," she said putting her forearm across her breasts and driving one handed.

"Don't be. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You have a very lovely body," I said this time looking straight ahead, instead of leering at her. Damn, for a killer, she was hot.

We arrived at our destination and there were a lot of naked people milling around outside. The house was at the end of a long road and was very private. There had to be a hundred naked people there at this Nude Day party.

"I can't go in there. I'm naked. Everyone will see me. I can't get out of the car. I'm going to turn around and go home," she said.

"Don't be foolish, Andy, this is just the thing you need to put aside the fact that you just killed me. Besides, it will give you a good alibi should you be questioned by police about the fatal hit and run accident, later. The more people who see you here, the better."

She parked the car, got out, and walked up the drive to the front door. The house was jam packed with naked people. Definitely, with all these naked people drinking and doing drugs, no doubt, they'll be some heavy sex happening later tonight, that's for sure.

As soon as we entered, two guys approached her, one grabbed her ass and another grabbed her tit, while both of them grabbed her by each wrist and filled her hands with their cocks, before she got her wits about her and pulled away from them. It got me excited to see two guys groping her and abusing her like that. It made me wish that I could grope her like that, too. Yet, what the Hell was that about? This is a Nude Day party, not a Sex Day party. It's difficult for guys to make the delineation, when seeing a hot, naked woman.

There were hot, young naked people everywhere. It made me wish I was still alive. It made me wish I could still get a boner. I looked down and I had a ghostly erection. Wow. I wonder if I can still cum?

Two naked women approached Andy.

"Andy, who's your new, hot boyfriend?"

"Huh? Oh," said Andy turning around and looking at me, before looking down at my erection. "This is Paul," she said looking at me again with confusion, before looking at me with a sudden consciousness of realization.

"Hi Paul," they both said in unison.

"Hi ladies," giving them my best sexy smile.

Andy took my arm and dragged me away from them to an isolated corner.

"I thought you were dead," she said sounding surprised, but not looking surprised.

There was something going on here. Something wasn't right. Only, I didn't know what it was.

"I am dead. You killed me. Remember? We left my body at the car wash."

"I thought you were a ghost, but you're not a ghost. Everyone can see you."

"I am a ghost."

"Then, why can everyone see you?"

"I dunno. It must be because I'm so sexually excited. Maybe it's a hormonal thing and the testosterone is so powerful that it even overrides death, which would explain why so many unearth dead men have erections."

"They do not," she said laughing. "You're making that up. Dead men don't talk and dead men don't have erections."

"Okay, I did make that up, but I am dead and I am a ghost. Yet, this dead man is not only talking but also has an erection and I figure, since you were the death of me, you owe me."

"Owe you? What do you mean owe you? What do I owe you?"

I looked down at my cock and she looked where I was looking.

"Sex. At the very least, you owe me sex. I want sex," I said taking her hand and putting it on my erection.

Okay," she said filling her hand with my cock. "Why not," she said. "That's why I attended this Nude Day party was to have casual and random sex with some guy. I just didn't know it would be with a ghost of a guy."

Gently she started stroking me, before she leaned into me and kissed me, French kissed me, while I fondled her magnificent breasts and fingered her pink, puffy nipples.

"Suck it, Andy. Give me a blowjob," I said whispering in her ear, while pushing down on her shoulder, as she fell to her knees.

What the Hell, I figured, everyone else in the room was having sex, why not us? At this point in time, it was the natural thing to do.

As soon as she took my cock in her mouth, I thought I had died and gone to Heaven. Never have I received such a deadly blowjob. Something that couldn't be put on a resume, for sure, but this girl has skills.

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