Elevator Ghosts Pt. 02

Some days had passed since that special Monday evening. Abigail had, like any normal person would, concluded it was all a hallucination of some sort. Who knows, maybe she had just masturbated in a faulty elevator and gotten too into it, dreaming up an ideal lover so vividly it felt real.

And yet, every night as she lay in bed, her warm blanket covering her, she couldn't stop thinking about him. He'd enchanted her like no one ever had before. Her mind would constantly replay scenes from that one fateful encounter, and her hand would slide down into her panties, trying to recreate his sensual touch. But it wasn't the same, and her cravings went unfulfilled.

It was Friday night. She grabbed her phone, glancing at the time: 1:30 AM. At this rate, she probably wouldn't fall asleep before 2. She groaned, rolling over into fetal position and snuggling into her blanket. Her thoughts drifted once again to how he'd knelt before her, holding her firmly as he kissed at her most sensitive regions, his tongue undoing her with each movement.

She was close to drifting off to sleep when she felt a slight weight on the corner of the bed. She immediately tensed up, her mind going into overdrive.

Had someone broken into her house? Or was it just something she'd imagined?

Whatever it was, she couldn't do anything but pretend to be asleep, hoping it wasn't a robber. She definitely wouldn't do well in a fight; best to lose a few belongings instead of her life.

The weight slowly approached her, inching closer and closer. She heard the sound of soft breathing. She'd hoped the robber would just take whatever he wanted and leave, but it seemed he was purposefully moving towards her. Now internally panicking, she bit her lip not to make any sounds and silently prayed.

To her horror, she felt the person sit beside her. Keeping her eyes tightly shut, she waited in anticipation of the person's next move.

The bed creaked slightly as he leaned over, reaching out and placing a hand onto the blanket covering her shoulder. She immediately regretted the fact that the only clothes she had on were a t-shirt and panties. He grasped the material and pulled it down until it was at her waist. And then, a warm yet chilly hand was placed onto her neck.

Wait. That hand...

Abigail instinctively opened her eyes, recognizing the touch. She couldn't make out any figure in the darkness, and yet, there was a gentle nudge at her neck, as if telling her he knew she was awake.

Her own hand flew to his, holding it, almost in disbelief. Was it really him?

He answered her unspoken question by pressing his lips to hers, and that's when she knew it really was him. Finally she could relive that time in the elevator, finally she could feel him again. Her hands drifted to his face, feeling his skin - how could she ever have thought something that felt so real wasn't?

Maybe she was a bit too desperate, eagerly pulling him in closer and closer for more, a hand already on the back of his head. But she didn't care - she had been yearning for this since he disappeared on her.

His leg shifted in between her own as he moved on top of her, his hands moving from her face to her neck as he continued kissing her, his tongue in her mouth. He was faster this time - carnal, almost, as if making up for the time they hadn't spent together. Her heart raced even more at the thought of him longing for her just as much as she'd longed for him.

She grabbed his hand and moved it down to the hem of her shirt, pressing it against her skin, begging him for more. He obliged, moving up her stomach, letting out a pleased sigh at her lack of a bra. She shifted upwards, and he quickly pulled the shirt off her head, all his attention at her chest.

Abigail tugged at his hair as he kissed and fondled her breasts, his fingers sending sparks through her entire body. Small moans escaped her lips as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in closer. She was already wet from fantasizing about him before, and every part of her body was begging for his attention.

His hands trailed downwards, fingers sliding past the fabric of her panties and pulling them off. He returned to her neck, kissing her skin as his fingers began to rub her clit. She gasped, tightening her arms around him, aching for each stroke.

Teasingly slow at first, he sped up as she moaned, kissing him and whispering, "Faster," in his ear. Her mind was in a whirl, forgetting everything that wasn't him. He gave her exactly what she needed, rubbing and stroking in just the right way at her most sensitive spot. She instinctively bucked her hips towards him as he continued, the sensations within her heightening. The room was filled with the sounds of her moans until finally, she came, her body tensing as she found release.

He was breathing heavily by now, and when he positioned himself and she felt how hard his dick was, she knew why. As if stopping himself from entering her too fast - not that she would have minded - he placed a hand on her face, kissing her as he slowly entered her.

Despite his best efforts to go slow for her sake, he couldn't seem to take it much longer, and his thrusts quickly sped up. Abigail breathed out soft moans each thrust, barely realizing how hard her nails were digging into his back. Each movement of his sent her closer and closer to release once again, and it was almost too much.

When she thought he couldn't go any harder, he did, letting out grunts and moans. He too was aroused to the point where he could only focus on pleasuring himself, holding her breast with one hand and panting by her ear.

Her legs tightened around him, letting him go deeper and deeper as he hit her core again and again. By the time her second orgasm washed like a wave over her body she was a mess, holding him tightly and making sounds of pleasure louder than she ever had.

With her clinging to him like that, it wasn't long before he was done as well, letting out a groan as he came in her.

She felt like she was going to pass out any second as he pulled out, having been jolted out of her half-asleep state and propelled into an adrenaline-fueled fever too quickly. It was still worth it, of course. As he lay down beside her, both of them breathing heavily, she turned to him, sleepily murmured, "God, I missed you."

She shifted closer to him, snuggling into his skin as if to stop him from leaving again. Whether he hadn't been planning to disappear from the start or if he changed his mind in that instant, she didn't know. But as he gently stroked her hair, lulling her to sleep, she knew she'd never felt safer.