Ghost in the Attic

Shuddering, she moved forward to lean her forehead against his, breathing heavily as his cum leaked out of her. He kissed her tenderly, running his cool hands along any part of her body he could reach. When his softening cock slid out of her, Harper slumped onto the loveseat, idly running the fingers of one hand along his ribs while her eyelids began to droop again, legs stretching over his lap. He watched her, a pleased smile on his face, one arm stretched along the back cushion while the other leisurely stroked the back of her thighs.

"What's your name?" she asked, stifling a yawn, realizing she'd never heard it in any previous dream, unsure of why she was asking now. He smiled lazily and captured her hand in his. She barely had time to register his head dipping down to kiss her hand before her eye's closed, pleasantly spent. When they opened again it was pitch black outside, but still disgustingly hot.

Not again, she cursed to herself, remembering her dream as the fan blew air against her damp skin. All of her damp exposed skin. Harper looked down at herself lying on the loveseat, completely naked. She didn't remember waking up naked after any of her other dreams, but she was only startled for a moment, reasoning that she must have taken off her clothes while she was sleeping since they would have been too hot to sleep in. Until she saw something fluttering on her desk.

Getting up and crossing the room squinting in the low light cast by the street lamp outside she saw that it was a piece of cloth, flapping limply as the fan passed, marking a place in the book the realtor had given her. Flipping open to the marked page she saw a very old photo of her lover staring back at her next to a pen and ink drawing of the house she was now renting an apartment in.

'Mason W. Barrett' she murmured, reading the name under the photo along with the small paragraph about the house, which he had apparently built.

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest as she realized she hadn't been dreaming at all, she'd just been visited by a ghost. Not only that, but she'd apparently been fucking a ghost for months, while being none the wiser. Somehow she wasn't worried, possibly because most of her imagination was occupied by things that went bump in the night anyway, so a ghost lover wasn't such an outlandish thought. It wasn't like he was a poltergeist, she reasoned with herself, the ghost wasn't trying to kill her or anything, unless endless fucking counted as an attempt on her life.

We are going to have a serious chat Mr. Barrett, she thought to herself, marking the page with an actual bookmark and twinning Mason's ridiculous cravat between her fingers. Harper smiled as a cool breeze brushed across the back of her neck, closing the book and holding it against her chest. Thinking the chill running down her spine felt an awful lot like fingertips she descended the stairs, cravat trailing behind her, an invitation to be followed.