Gotten by the Ghoul

All characters in this story are above 18!

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The leaves shake, taunting Lia in the midnight breeze. Her eyes skim the surroundings; black road cast golden by the streetlights, houses shrouded by the fences around them, cars covered with dew from the dense fog around her. Dead leaves of vibrant reds and oranges pepper the ground. It looks like a hazy dream.

Unease prickles her skin. Her walk home isn't usually this creepy, but the fog and the silence cause her to stand on alert. Every step echoes along the trees, cars, asphalt, and houses. The crickets and toads aren't even making sounds tonight, Lia realizes. Cicada screams are quiet. No dogs bark. Lia squares her shoulders and quickens her steps.

Minutes of walking passes, and Lia is halfway home. She cuts through the cemetery, as always, though the fog gives her reason to hesitate. She shakes her head, admonishing herself for being silly- she'd never run across trouble before, so why should tonight be any different just because of a little fog?

Lia scans the tombstones as she passes them. Some had long lives, and others short. She makes silly scenarios in her head of what their lives would have been like. Happy, married, single, traveler, artist, chef, and so many more guesses delight her.

One tombstone in particular is covered by grey dried moss, tons of grime, and has a bat engraved in it. How had she never seen this one before? The dates read nineteen seventy-four to nineteen ninety-eight, and the name is Nicolas Fant. He was twenty-four when he died. About the same age as me.. thinks Lia. She wonders why he died as she begins walking again.

"Poor thing," she says, leaving the tombstone a few feet behind her.

As she nears the middle of the grounds, she spots a young man leaning against one of the mausoleums. She stops, glances around her to see more dense fog, and notes that she's only a few feet away from him. There's no way he hasn't spotted her. She keeps walking, nearing him with the intent to pass, and startles when he whistles to her. Two sharp and short whistles hang in the fog. She stops and turns to look at him. He jerks his head in the direction of the dark doorway and then disappears into it. Darkness slowly shrouds his figure until she sees him no longer.

Lia knows better than to follow him... and yet, her legs carry her over. The fog becomes thicker, and dampens her clothes and skin. She can't shake the feeling of familiarity that zings through her as she walks up the steps and hesitates at the doorway.

"Come in. I don't bite, ya know. Unless you want me to," the young man's voice is enticing as it bounces off the mausoleum walls. She can hear his smirk.

She blushes and feels goosebumps raise her skin, "Who are you?"

She steps into the dark room. Her eyes strain to adjust to the darkness, and before she can fully see, a candle in the back corner is suddenly lit. The man is completely visible now. He's got shoulder-length dark hair, sharp facial features, and pouty lips. Stubble lines his jaw and mouth. A leather jacket dons his torso, along with a dark grey shirt, and he's wearing black pants with combat boots. Rings adorn his fingers, and several clunky chains hang around his neck. Lia is sure he has earrings, too, because as he tilts his head to assess her the same way she does him, a shiny glint winks at her. Heat flushes her skin while she drinks his features in.

It's too warm to be wearing a jacket, much less a leather one, she thinks to herself, which is why she hadn't worn one. The first week of October is always temperamental. So she wore her hair up, though a few strands had become messy and fallen down by now. Her long brown dress has loose, flared long-sleeves that suit the weather. The waist of the dress fits her snuggly, and the young man takes great notice of it; Lia watches his eyes fill with appreciation as he scans her.

Several moments of silence have passed now, so she rephrases her question. "What is your name?" She tilts her head as she steps deeper into the stone building.

He purses his lips, "Does it really matter?"

"Mysterious handsome man leads me into a tomb, I always like to get a name," she runs her hand along the wall, feeling the coolness on her skin. She sighs at the sensation, relief beneath her palms. Upon entering here, she has become flushed and hot. She isn't sure why. It's as if his very presence is causing her to feel this way.

"Ah, do this often, do ya?" He teases. His footsteps echo as he takes a step, only one, closer to where she is headed.

Her eyes meet his, and when she sees the lust in his eyes, her groin tightens, "Wouldn't you like to know?" She raises a brow at him.

Lia reaches the slab of concrete in the back of the room, where the candle sits on a corner. Wax is already dripping down the candle and onto the floor. She touches the stone in an attempt to stifle her desire, focus on something other than the reactions she is having to his presence, but feels her nerves stand at attention as footsteps near her.

The young man is standing behind her. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that she can feel the warmth of his body radiate against her backside.

He breathes in deeply. "You smell like honeysuckle," he groans, admiration and sadness both present in his husky voice.

Lia whirls around to face him, and as soon as her eyes meet his, he closes the space between them, pushing her ass against the cold slab of stone. Her hands grasp the edge of it as she looks up at him. He towers over her, and she has to crane her neck back to look at him properly. His hard body presses against hers. Lia's breath catches in her throat, and the young man traces his fingertip along the cusp of her throat. He tilts his head to the left, his hair falling with the movement, and he leans his face into her neck. A groan escapes him as he inhales her scent deeply, his nose grazing against her skin.

She feels his warm lips lightly graze her neck. The breath she didn't realize she was holding expels from her lungs, and then his hands on her hips. Slowly, he trails his hands down to the back of her knees, his mouth grazing down her throat, past her collarbones, and to the middle of her chest where her dress dips in a v. He grabs her legs and hoists her up on the slab. The stone bites into her skin as he pulls her skirt up, stopping mid-thigh, and steps between her legs.

His lips make their way back up to her neck and then to her collarbone. When Lia thinks he is going to kiss her, she leans back. Her hands are planted behind her on the slab. His hands are gripping under her knees, firmly, and she lets him keep her legs there. The warmth of his body washes over her, sending tingles down to her core. His cold belt-buckle is pressed against her pussy, and the sensation makes her shiver slightly.

Desire flows through her body. Denial, too. Should she be doing this? She doesn't know this man but feels like a magnet is pulling her toward him and she can't stop it. Doesn't really want to. Reckless impulse continues to drive her to satisfy her want, her need.

Lia very slowly leans toward him. The candlelight flickers off the dark walls. As she nears him, his breathing becomes harder, and he tries to get closer to her. When he shifts his movement, she feels his hardness press against her, and she tightens her legs around him, desperate for no space to remain between them. She grabs his jaw in her hand. Their eyes meet, heat and demand rampant in their gazes. He silently obeys her when she pulls him forward. Her breath on his mouth prompts him to lick his lips, then try to lick hers, but she moves her head a mere inch back and grins.

"You move," she darkly says, "when I say you do."

A shaky sigh erupts from him. He grinds his hardness against her in a desperate attempt to ease the tension in him, but she raises her brow and pushes his head back while still firmly holding his jaw. Surprise at her strength makes his cock twitch.

"Please," he whispers, then tries to lean into her again.

She huffs a breathy laugh and then purrs, "Begging already? What a good boy."

Hearing those words stirs a frenzy in him. He grips her hips hard and pulls her slightly off the lip of the slab, then grinds his hard cock against her. She lets him, for a few fleeting moments, and then the sound of a smack echoes off the stone walls around them.

The young man touches his cheek where she smacked him, and steps back slightly. He sees a smear of blood on his fingers when he looks at them. The sting jolts his cock, he didn't think he had ever been as hard as he is now. Playfully, he glares at her and then watches silently as she moves.

"Boots," she demands, holding her left leg out to him. After he removes it, she holds out her right. No sooner than the boot touches the ground, she pushes him with her foot, pointedly looking at the ground beneath them. Her legs spread slightly, flirting with him.

He laughs darkly, "I don't kneel."

"Don't you?"

He doesn't reply. A standoff is beginning to take place, will he relent or will she? Quiet stubbornness hangs in the air.

When the man makes no move to do as she says, Lia jumps off the slab, grabs her boots, and heads for the doorway.

"Goodnight, then." She says cheerfully without looking at him. Her skirt swishes around her legs.

Before she can cross the threshold, she bumps into something hard. He stands in front of her, looking down, and her mind whirls about how he could have moved so fast. He steps toward her, body pressed against hers and pushing her a step back, then lets his leather jacket fall off his shoulders and onto the floor. The young man yanks her boots from her and tosses them to a corner behind them. Then, he undoes his belt buckle. In one swift movement, he yanks it from the loops in his pants and throws it to the floor. The clatter bounces off the walls.

Lia turns slightly, hoping to get around him and evade his advances if she finds the perfect moment. Even so, she feels no fear. No- she is not afraid of him, and is only vaguely aware of the way he had moved so fast anymore, all she can focus on is the heat in his eyes as he steps her back against a cold wall. Those eyes make her core hot. She can feel herself getting wet. Trapped. She's trapped between him and a wall of caskets.

The young man grips her waist, hard, leans in to breathe her scent once more. His body presses against hers, the weight of him stealing her breath. His hand inches up the side of her body, squeezing her hip, her ribs, her breast, her neck, until it finally creeps up to her scalp and grips her hair firmly. Her head is tightly yanked to angle up at him. Lia's breaths escape her as excitement courses through her body. His hardness is pressed against her stomach and the young man keeps moving slightly against her.

"And just where," he licks along her jaw to her ear, then whispers, "do you think you're going?"

But she can't answer. She can't answer, because as she tries to form coherent words to banter with him, his knee is spreading her legs apart and he's lifting her up. His eyes roam her face. The feeling of him between her legs is a sweet friction, and her legs tighten around his waist as she gently cups his face. She writhes against him to give her pussy some relief, but he plants her on the slab and pushes her back down with his hand around her throat.

"Back to square one, huh?" Lia strains against his grip.

Her legs are dangling on either side of him. He grinds against her as his free hand slowly, so slowly, travels from her ankle up to her thigh and then under her dress to the band of her underwear. He leans over her to lick her collarbone and her throat while tugging them off of her. A deep moan sounds from his throat. The soft thud of her underwear hitting the floor sends another jolt of heat to her core, and the cold air kisses her bare pussy before he grinds against her again.

She lays underneath him, her body begging to be soothed. The man slips his pants down to the bottom of his thighs. He places one hand beside her head and uses the other to guide his throbbing cock to her entrance, which she's sure is soaking by now. She watches him lean back, spit on his cock, and then stroke himself with his saliva. Lia can barely stop herself from grabbing him and pushing him into her, but he has other plans.

Lia gasps softly when his warm head makes contact with her swollen clit. He rubs small circles, grinning down at her, over and over again. She attempts to buck her hips and writhe against him, but he stays firmly on her clit. Her head throws back and her legs are tingling. She moans softly, almost a whimper.

"That's it, baby," he drags out the word 'that's' and uses more pressure from his hips to tease her pussy. More moans escape Lia, her breaths are coming fast, and her skin is getting warm.

The young man slowly drags his cock down her slit to her entrance and begins pushing his fat head into her. Lia's nails crack as she digs them into the stone beneath her. He leans over to pull the top of her dress off of her shoulders and expose her breasts. A hungry noise echoes against the walls as he takes her nipple in his warm mouth. Lia's hands find their way to his hair, desperate to have him closer, close as she can have him. She can focus on nothing else but the feeling of him entering her.

With his face pressed against her chest and his cock inside of her, she does not notice the lack of surface beneath them. They are floating four feet above the slab, but she still feels supported underneath her back. Lia opens her eyes, looks around them, and gasps.

"What the hell is happening?" She asks, breathless, and still focusing on the feeling of the velvet hardness dragging in and out of her slick tunnel.

The man opens his eyes, thrusts in her one hard time, and then they fall. Lia feels the air whoosh around them as he tumbles them in the air, so that Lia lands on top of him, cock still inside her, as they slam onto the slab. The landing pushed him impossibly far inside her, and she screams, desperate to get him as deep inside her soaking pussy as he had just been.

The man lets out a loud grunt of pleasure and then grips her hips, hard. He then pushes her back and pulls her forward, over and over and over again until she is going to shatter.

"That's right, cum for me, pretty girl, cum on my cock," he moans as she trembles, falling forward onto his chest and crying out. Her thighs tighten and her groin squeezes hard as her pussy clamps around his throbbing cock.

A few strands of his hair are lying across his face and he's grunting beneath her as he keeps using her through her climax, he keeps pushing and pulling her hips.

"Fuck," he growls.

The man grips her hair close to her scalp and then pulls her off of him. She whimpers, needing him back inside her instantly.

He stands, pushes her to bend over the slab, and then smacks her ass. The noise and her sharp moan echo through the mausoleum. She glances back at him, the side of her face against the slab, and slowly wiggles her ass with her dress pulled up around her waist.

"Come on, baby," she urges, "ride me." Another slow, sexy wiggle to taunt him.

He growls, and then yanks the back of her neck so that her back is arched and her ass is pressed against his thick cock, still wet from her juices.

"Fucking like it rough, don't ya?" He says to her, barely above a whisper, with his mouth pressed against her hair. His chest is pressed to her back and he takes his thumb and traces it along her bottom lip, then slowly pumps his thumb in then out of her mouth. She laps her tongue around him, strains her neck to look in his eyes, and pushes her ass against him once more.

"Ride me or fuck off," She demands around his thumb.

He laughs darkly. There's no way he can 'fuck off' now, not when he's had her sweet pussy wrapped and desperate around his cock.

In one swift movement, he yanks his thumb from her mouth and shoves his cock hilt-deep inside of her. Lia lets out a small scream, then leans against the cold stone slab beneath her. Every thrust jolts her body. He pulls out slowly, until his head is just at her entrance. When she wiggles back onto him, he pulls farther back to evade her. She whimpers.

"You're so pretty when you make that sound," he almost whines. "Do it again."

She smiles and shakes her head lightly.

"Do it again." He says roughly as he grips the back of her neck.

"Make me," the words are soft, barely heard.

In an instant, the man grabs her neck harder, rougher, and slams into her with all of his force. She screams and then whimpers.

There was a reason he hadn't interacted with anyone passing through this cemetery for so long. He knew he couldn't control himself, couldn't stop the change if it led to something like this. But now, the change was happening, and there was nothing to stop it.

He pulls her back, turns her over, lifts her onto the slab, and pushes her knees up beside her and spreads her thighs apart from each other. He lines his fat cock head against her entrance, growing fatter, and teases her soaking entrance. His hands strain as they hold her legs, keeping her splayed out so perfectly beneath him. His limbs stretch and change, his muscles double in size, he grows taller, and his face becomes one of nightmares. A flaming skull looms over her. His leather jacket rips where he becomes too big for it. The chunky long necklaces now fit him like chokers.

"Wha- what are you?" Lia asks, eyes wide, as fear begins to take over her pleasure. She tries to scramble away from him, but he's so big and so strong, so otherworldly. Who could fight a ghoul like this?

"Just think of me," he growls over her, "as a really strong poltergeist." He smirks. It sounds as if he has several deep voices at once. Her shriek bounces off the walls as he pushes himself into her once again.

"I can't take that!" She claims. But she will, even if it tears her apart. He can't stop the beast from taking complete hold of him, and at this point, doesn't want to. The beast grips her thighs to the point of pain, and she whimpers. The sound eggs him on. He pushes harder, forcing his cock into her as she writhes and pleads beneath him. The noises of her begging and his grunts bounce around them. It's fuel for his desire.

Slowly, he manages to make it a few inches inside of her, but she hasn't stopped shrieking beneath him. He smiles, relishing the sound of her disbelief. A low, long grunt escapes his throat while his cock tunnels its way into her. Six inches. Seven. Eight, then nine. His cock grew with his beast form, in length and girth. He spreads her pussy wide with his cock and when he slowly pulls it out midway to tease her before pushing it all the way to the hilt, he watches her lips grip him. It's as if she's refusing to let him go.

"Gooood girl," he croons with his many voices. When he is balls deep inside of her again, her walls squeeze against his shaft and his eyes roll to the back of his head. He can't take it anymore, he has to ravage her. He begins to pick up his pace. He looks down at her, and sees her shaking her head no as she grips his wrists that are holding her thighs against her biceps.

"Please don-"

"Hold on tight, babygirl," he warns her.

Then he's slamming into her hard and fast and rocking her body. His balls smack against her ass with each and every thrust. She'll probably have a rash on her back from rubbing against the stone. His body is huge, imposing, as he stands over her and fucks into her pussy with a fury like hell. Lia screams, begging for both more and to stop, but it doesn't matter what she says. The beast must satisfy himself. He pumps his throbbing cock in and out of her, watching her pussy lips push and pull against his thrusts, and he begins to jerk his motions. He's going to cum. Lia's head rolls on the slab with her body as he fucks her. He keeps pushing to the base of his huge cock, and shudders with every whimper she lets out.