Blithe Little Spirit

There was only one cure, from what I could tell. I dragged my wife's sweet little ass to the edge of the bed, stood between her thighs and drove my cock deep inside where my tongue had just been. Harder and faster, I pummeled her. She put her heels on my shoulders, so I gripped her thighs and kept at it. Her boobs bounced with every vicious thrust, and pretty soon I hit a rhythm that had them bouncing up and down like she was naked in a paint shaker at Home Depot.

The thought that this would have been the perfect night to turn on the video camera had just crossed my mind when I glanced up from the mesmerizing, rhythmic jiggle of her breasts.

Beth was standing on the other side of the bed. Not some wispy fog or transparent figure, but my actual sister, looking exactly like she did 10 years before. Her jaw was hanging wide open, like she was watching the Hindenburg explosion live and in person.

My cock slipped out of Janice on the backstroke and almost rammed up her bum, but thankfully missed and went harmlessly between her cheeks.

"What are you doing?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Janice said.

"Not now," Beth answered, "this is too good to interrupt. I didn't expect this. We'll talk later."

Janice had retrieved my errant cock by then and placed it back in the right spot. "Come on, Honey. Don't stop!"

Beth nodded and sort of motioned with her head to keep going. I had never screwed Janice while anyone was watching—she is way too strait-laced for that, even if she is freaky in private. Now, with my sister staring at my cock, I slid it inside my wife. This time, I took things slower because I was too busy staring at my sister.

Beth was wearing the little nightgown our mother insisted upon dressing her in when she died. She didn't look dead, though. Didn't look sick like she got at the end, either. She looked perfectly normal, like she had gotten up from her sickbed 10 years before, fully healed, and walked into our bedroom to watch me screw my wife's brains out.

If I thought that wad I sprayed on Janice's tit was humongous, this one felt twice as much. I was screaming, and so was Janice. Beth had a sly little grin on her face. Then, like someone had flicked a switch, she vanished.

I probably don't need to tell you I couldn't sleep that night, so I lay there too terrified to get up and try to find a ghost in the dark alone. Even my sister's ghost. Besides, what would I say to her after she showed up as a peeper ghost to watch me bang the bejesus out of my wife?

But, eventually I fell asleep, and in the morning, I figured someone had laced that joint we passed around with something, and I was going to kick Jim's ass for giving us Sherm-stick or whatever that shit was.

Janice was still snoozing when I stepped into the shower. In the light of day, the thought of my sister watching me have sex with my wife was about the hottest thing I had ever imagined, and even with the workout I gave my dick a few hours before, it was hard again and ready for action, so I soaped up and began rubbing out a morning yank.

A montage of jumbled images played before my closed eyes.

"Good morning!"

My eyes flew open, and there she was, standing in the shower with me. Her little nightgown was dry, with the water flowing right through it. A shorter hemline than I remembered, but even bone dry was as sheer as I remembered it. Maybe more sheer. I never understood why our mother liked it so much, but I do know why I liked it.

My jism flew straight at her. Pearly goo shot right through her, just as the water did.

"Wow! That is some welcome! You sure are full of surprises."

My heart froze and, I'm pretty sure, stopped beating for a while. As enjoyable as a gorgeous woman joining me in the shower is, it is disconcerting when she is your sister. But when she's been in the grave for a decade and seeing her materialize out of thin air, it's downright terrifying.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," she said. My mouth moved, but words were beyond my capacity. "It's me, Jason! I'm not going to hurt you."

Jizz continued to spurt, although I had dropped my cock. When she noticed, she said, "Sorry to interrupt. Go ahead and finish. Nothing I haven't seen already."

Unable to think of a better idea or form words, I rubbed out the remaining brother sauce, which dribbled short of the mark.

My mouth finally started working. "What... what are you doing here?"

"Don't ask me; your guess is as good as mine. I was minding my own business when some woman started calling for me. I followed her voice and there you were! So, I reached out and grabbed hold of your arm. At first you ignored me, but eventually you started hearing me while you were doing all that naughty stuff with that woman."

"Janice. She's my wife."

"Well, congratulations! You have fantastic taste."

"What I mean is, what are you doing here, in the shower with me?"

"What am I supposed to do, sit on the toilet? You left the seat up and besides, I'm dead; I don't need to poop or pee anymore."

"Can't you wait outside until I'm..." I glanced down at my nakedness, "dressed?"

"Yeah, about that. I'm as clueless how this works as you are. I seem to be stuck to you somehow. When you leave the room, it's like you drag me along wherever you go. Sorry, I'd like to give you some privacy, especially last night. I waved my arms and shouted at first, but you didn't let on I was there until much later."

"How much did you see?"

"Everything, starting when you were trying to grope that woman on the floor last night. CPR—right!"

Holy shit, my kid sister can see my every move, and I had a lot of XXX moves last night, not to mention my solo performance in the shower.

Once my brain began to recover, the water passing through the nightgown without wetting it was damn annoying. That fabric should be transparent as wet toilet paper, turning a delightful view into an incredible one. This haunting thing was shaping up to have more drawbacks than positive elements.

"You can't give me any privacy?"

"I don't know how."

"Try walking out of the bathroom."

"I'll try. This is pretty embarrassing for me, too. I mean, it was pretty hot watching you and..."

"Janice."

"Right, Janice last night, but I felt like a Peeping Beth and couldn't do a thing about it." She was at the door and began passing through it like a CGI effect, but didn't make it out. She stepped back and tried again, then took a little running start, but it was like she was inside a bouncy house and just came back. "See? Looks like you're stuck with me."

She vanished again. "Where did you go?"

"I'm right here—can't you see me?"

"No. Where is here?"

"I'm back in the shower with you. Wouldn't want Janice to hear you shouting, would you?" I reached around, but felt nothing. "Hey, watch it! You just touched my booby—well, reached through it."

That begged a question. "Can you touch me?"

"Good question." She flickered into view again, reached for my shoulder, and her hand went right through me. "I guess a hug's out of the question."

Among other things.

"Okay, I have to ask: what's Heaven like?"

"Another great question. Beats the hell outta me. I got sent to the other place."

That came as a shock. She'd been a nice girl—a virgin, never did drugs, never stole anything. "Why did you end up there?"

"Who knows? They don't answer a lot of questions, and it's not like there's a constitution or something. One minute I was in my bed with you and Mom there, the next I was in this concentration camp full of serial killers and congressional lobbyists and rapists and the like. Why do you think I grabbed onto you? I wanted to hold on to you so I didn't end up back there in that terrible place with war criminals, those people who pass in the right lane, CEOs..."

"That's awful!" I had forgotten I was naked with my penis aimed at her like a gunman threatening a hostage. This was fascinating, but it really pissed me off that Beth, of all people, was in Hell. "Do they bother you?"

"Are you kidding? You can't throw a chunk of brimstone down there without hitting some sex offender. It doesn't matter what you look like, they just grab your tits or butt and force themselves on you whenever they want. Women, men, old ladies, doesn't matter."

"Oh my god, they raped you?"

"Well," she had a twinkle in her light blue eyes, "it is Hell, so there is a twist. If they could just run around doing whatever they want, it wouldn't be much of a punishment, right? They go limp soon as they grab someone. Apparently Viagra isn't available in Hell." That made me feel a little better, but the thought of Ted Bundy or Caligula roughing my little sister up, groping her even if too limp to rape her, still made me sick. She glanced down; my dick was still hard. "Haven't seen one of those in a while."

"Sorry, it has a mind of its own." To change the subject, I blurted out, "Are there famous people there?"

"Oh, the place is full of 'em. Napoleon, Marilyn Monroe, Col. Hogan—he's a freak."

"What about Jack the Ripper?"

"Yup. He's some disgusting horse-butcher named Charles something or other. Yeah, no one's heard of him. Lechmere, that's it. But enough about Hell, tell me about you!"

Was she kidding? She had been to Hell and back—I had no stories to match horse-butchering serial killers or Col. Hogan. "Just the normal stuff. Graduated from college, got married. No kids—yet, but we're planning. Boring job, blah, blah, blah."

A light rapping from the door. Beth vanished in the blink of an eye. "Hey, save some hot water for me in there!"

"Oh, right—I'll be right out," I called to my wife. Then, in a loud whisper, "Are you still here?"

"Right here."

I toweled off. When I got to my package, I said, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"It's a helluva lot more fun than where I have been. I really missed you, Jason."

"I've missed you, too, Beth."

When we came out, Janice asked, "Who were you talking to in there?"

"What?"

"I heard you babbling away in there."

Busted! "You must have been hearing things."

While Janice showered, Beth and I caught up. News reporting leaves much to be desired in Hell, so I filled her in about family and friends from school. "Don't wear that," she said. "Try that blue shirt instead."

Janice emerged wrapped in a towel, which she tossed onto the bed next to me when she put on a bra and panties.

Beth said, "She's beautiful!"

"The most beautiful woman I know."

My sister made a face. "Ouch! And right to my face."

"Dead woman don't count."

Janice turned as she adjusted her bra, one eyebrow raised. "What dead women should make me jealous?"

"Well, what do you know? Janice can't hear me, but you can."

"That could cause a lot of problems," I said, unable to stop myself.

"After 5 years of marriage, I find out my husband has the hots for dead women."

"I didn't say I have the hots for them," my face burned as it presumably turned dark as a plum, "just some are pretty."

Can you hear me? I sent this telepathic thought, scanning the room where my invisible sister was lurking and eavesdropping. Say something if you hear me!

Nothing.

This might get tricky.

"This could be fun." I shot a warning glare to the side of the room the voice came from.

"Are her boobs smaller than mine?"

"I like small breasts."

Janice narrowed her eyes. "Random. Should I take that as an insult, a compliment, or scratch Jayne Mansfield off my list of dead rivals?"

"Sorry, I just..."

"You'll have to excuse him. He's chatting up a ghost."

"Enough!"

Janice glanced down at her chest, lifted her breasts in her hands, gave an annoyed "Humph," and stormed out.

"You're coming with me," I said, unaware of the double entendre. "Outside."

"Wow, and I thought you were kinky last night!"

We strolled through the neighborhood. I'm sure half my neighbors saw me talking to myself and thought I was crazy. I tended to agree with them. Every once in a while, she faded into and out of view, wearing her shortie nightie out in public, but at least my neighbors were not delusional enough to see her.

"You're going to get me in a lot of trouble."

"I hope so. At least I didn't get naked in front of you."

"No wonder you went to Hell."

"I may have picked up a few bad habits there."

In the sunlight, pink circles marked the ring of her nipples more clear than indoor lighting. Her panties were disappointing but perhaps appropriate for someone on their deathbed.

"What are you staring at?"

"You. Don't ghosts come out at night? How can I see you during daylight?"

"I'm learning as it goes along, but I am not a vampire."

"Will you try to behave?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"How much fun will destroying your brother's marriage be?"

"Who's destroying anything? If you're so worried, why don't you just tell Janice the truth? She seems like the kind of woman who is very understanding of the man she loves. Besides, would I do anything to hurt you?" She reached out and touched my hand, the absentminded way people do while talking to you. But this was different.

"How'd you do that?"

Beth acted coy. "Do what?"

"I felt you touch me!" Not the way another living woman's hand would have felt; more of a tickle than touch. Stronger than a gust of wind against my skin, but less than contact with a physical object.

With a sly smile, she skipped a step ahead and turned to walk backwards, facing me. "I've been working on a few things. Remember, I may have been dead for a long time, but I've only been a ghost since last night." Then, to show off her powers, she reached for an overhanging tree branch to which a few red leaves still clung. Her hand passed through it, but not without bending the branch as if one tiny, isolated breeze had taken it while leaving the branches alongside still. A leaf fluttered to the ground.

"That's amazing," I said before overcome with worry about her growing powers. "I love Janice, but you are going to screw things up between us."

She faded from sight. I may or may not have walked home alone.

Our previous night's workout must have lingered inside Janice, some deep part untouched and unsatisfied and smoldering. Beth was nowhere to be seen and silent. Perhaps parole from Hell only lasts 24 hours, or I had recovered my sanity. In either case, Janice's flirting and furtive touches since dinner had turned my dick into a metal pipe, even pushing aside memories of my sister's long legs flowing from the hem of her nightie.

When Janice is in one of those moods, she is a lot of fun. She is the only woman I've ever met who can be both sex kitten and sexual predator or can switch from one to the other as the situation warrants. It always starts the same: with the longest, slowest French kiss imaginable. Part invitation, part torture that few men could withstand for long, but the reward is worth it. It leaves me desperate and her so wound up that our release is primal and mutual.

That is the kiss she gave. Our tongues moved in slow, carnal circles as I carried her into the bedroom. Beth nowhere in sight, but I kicked the door closed for good measure. Before she released me from our kiss, both our shirts were on the floor, along with her bra. I kneaded the firm, pliant flesh of her breasts, our legs entwined, as she sustained the kiss to the limits of human endurance. Then she fell back, limp, and I attacked her breasts with a thousand more kisses. I sucked each nipple till she moaned, licked them as though their taste matched the chocolate color, alternating between squeezing each with vigor and tenderness like a rising and falling tide.

There is magic in her breasts, the power of orgasm, and I licked circles around her tender left nipple, flicking it from time to time, until she came.

True to form, she gave me a dazzling reward, tugging my pants off and licking my cock with the same enthusiasm I put into her breasts. She sucked my hairy sack as though she enjoyed it, and perhaps she does. Then her glistening lips wrapped around my purple helmet, tongue circling a few times before taking it deep inside her mouth.

So immense was the pleasure that I fell back on the bed like a rag doll, ready to enjoy what promised to be a massive explosion. That's when I saw my sister crouched down beside us, like a baseball umpire ready to call a ball or strike, her face only two feet away from where my cock was penetrating her sister-in-law's mouth.

"Don't mind me."

"Oh, my god!"

Janice pulled away, mistaking my cry for fair warning, but it didn't matter. Seeing Beth's enthralled face so close removed any chance of holding on any longer.

"What are you looking at?"

This confused Janice, who thought I was talking to her.

"Are you going to do it on her boobs again?"

"Ohhhhh!" Janice lifted just in time to spray splooge all over her tit. So much jism she resembled a bukkake film by the time I ran out of ammo.

I was staring at Beth, who in turn was staring at my penis and semen on Janice's boob. My turn to be confused, as I didn't know if this was super-hot, annoying, or simply a new decadent perversion.

"You weren't lying about enjoying small breasts."

"Did you enjoy that?"

Once again, Janice thought I was asking her. "Very much. From the look of it," she traced circles of jism on her breast, using my dick as a paintbrush, "you did, too."

"Me, too," Beth piped in. "You two put on quite a show. I used to imagine what you were like when you had sex, with your girlfriends and all, but my imagination was not up to this sort of thing."

My head fell back. "It was wonderful," I said to no one in particular.

"Did you imagine me having sex—you know, when you were alive?"

"That's enough."

"Really?" Disappointment clouded Janice's face. "I was hoping you might have enough left to go all the way?"

Beth kept going. "I never had sex, though, but you knew that, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"I know you didn't believe when Carl Wellington told everyone we did it. But I bet when I was in my room fantasizing about you, you were doing the same about me, weren't you?"

"I have to use the restroom." My hand went through her wrist like she wasn't there, then I grabbed at her hair to drag her with me, but nothing was there. It must have looked like some kind of post-coital spasm to Janice.

I needed to pee, but my cock was still rigid, aimed at the ceiling, so I leaned against the wall, angled it for a long-distance shot and let loose.

"Okay, this is something I never expected."

"Do you mind?"

"You don't have to grab at me—I get sucked along with you from room to room." She started giggling.

"What?"

"I can't believe I said sucked. Let's file that under classic Freudian slips."

"Are you okay in there?" Janice's voice sounded close to the door.

"I'm just trying to pee," I said to all concerned.

"Did I just hear voices in there?"

"I'll be out in a sec!"

"Where did she learn to do all that? I know she's my sister-in-law and I don't want to get the wrong impression of her, but that girl knows what she's doing! Did you teach her those tricks?"

"I'm really tired of this!"

"Oh, you love it—admit it! Having two girls in bed at the same time. Does it count as a threesome if I just cheer you on?"

"I know why you aren't really here." I waved my hand through her breasts. "You don't have the guts. You're all talk, but if you were here in the flesh, you know I'd take you up on it, but you're too scared, aren't you?"

"Oh, so you want me to physically materialize, huh?"

"Yeah. Bring it!"

"Well, I can't!"

"How come on all those ghost hunter shows, ghosts are always shoving them, scratching their backs, touching their necks? Real physical stuff!" I made a few backhand claps for emphasis. "If you wanted to, you could do it, too."