Mother's Ghost Ch. 02

I waited outside my closed bedroom door, my cock throbbing impatiently as I waited for the "surprise" Tati said she was preparing for me.

It had been a month since the funeral. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. That fallen picture of my late wife had returned to its old, smiling self, but I definitely remembered it being a cold glare that one night.

Allison had returned to her home again but Vincent, still living here, was out for one of his rare job interviews. This would be one of our rare opportunities to fuck and I was eager to get on with it before he got back. Still, I couldn't say no to the wicked smile she gave me as she closed the bedroom door.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the bedroom door opened. What I saw almost made me empty my balls into my pants like a hormonal teenager.

Tati stood there in her mother's old wedding dress. That slender white dress had been modest when on Rachel's bony frame but Tati's curves filled it out beautifully. I grabbed her and kissed her with a passion I hadn't even managed on my and Rachel's wedding day. Her lace-covered crotch grinding against mine caused me to spill a spurt of precum.

"Tell me again, Daddy," she said breathlessly, her voice soft with lust as I groped her beautiful breasts through the cool white silk. "Are you sad that Mom and her baby died?" She knew the answer, but I know she loved to hear me say it.

"No," I said out loud. I didn't whisper. "No!" I shouted again to the empty house. "I'm glad that bitch is dead! Her and that parasite growing in her belly!" My pants and shirt hit the floor and I stood before my daughter, my thick eight-inch erection throbbing hungrily.

"Wait! Not yet." Tati gently grabbed my erection like a leash and led me into the master bedroom's bathroom. "I've got one more surprise."

I saw a pile of photos in one of the the twin bathroom sink. Photos of my wife. Wedding photos. Vacation photos. Even photos of her pregnant, including the one we'd used at her funeral.

Tati opened a box of matches, took one, and handed another to me. "Let's burn them." We each struck a match and tossed them into the sink in unison. We watched as the flames consumed my wife's face, imagining her soul burning in Hell.

Tati moved down the counter to the empty sink, far away from the smoke and fire but still close enough so she could see her handiwork. She bent over the counter and said, "Now fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me doggie-style while that bitch burns!"

I eagerly try to flip up the heavy skirt of the dress, but it's too difficult. "Just rip it!" Tati hisses at me.

And I do. With a strength born of lust, I tear through my wife's wedding dress with both hands, revealing our daughter's perfect ass.

Tati moans in pleasure as I enter her through her mother's wrecked dress. "Oh DADDY! Fuck yes! I'm so glad Mom and her baby are burning in Hell!"

"Me too, baby," I answer as I powerfully thrust into her. Lust loosened my tongue. "I wish it was just us! I wish Vincent and Allison had been in that car too! I wish they were fucking dead!"

Tati moaned wordlessly like a deranged animal. I could feel her pussy throb at my sinful words. For several seconds, there was no sound but our bodies clapping against each other, her ass cheeks jiggling with each thrust.

Finally, she spoke again. "I don't just wish they were dead. I think we should fucking KILL THEM!"

That was the final straw. Like a trigger had been pulled, I came like a firehose deep into my own daughter's womb as she writhed wildly like a woman possessed, her walls throbbing against my shaft as she came.

It felt like a near minute of pure ecstasy as I sent legions of wriggling babymakers deep inside my daughter's eager pussy. Finally, I regained my rational mind, only to realize that my daughter was still squirming and spasming.

And she wasn't cumming any more.

I was knocked to the ground as some unseen force pulled my daughter back and laid her spread-eagled on the floor.

"Daddy! Ack...gkk!" she laid on the floor, choking, struggling to get words out. "The dress...it's..."

I felt a burst of heat as the burning pictures rose from the sink, a small but vicious beast of smoke and fire, and flew towards Tati. The embers landed on the delicate silk and lace, catching the dress on fire. Tati struggled, trying to roll out the flames, but something kept her immobilized on her back.

Finally, she pointed to the counter, where she'd filled several cups of water in case of emergency. I grabbed them one after another, putting out the flames that ate away at my wife's dress. But somehow, Tati was still choking.

"The dress!" she said again. "It's cho..."

With the same strength I'd used before, I tore open the collar and bodice of the dress. Tati desperately filled her lungs with oxygen and pulled herself out of the tattered white rags.

My wife's ruined dress flailed around for several minutes like a dying fish before it fell still.

I held my shivering, crying daughter, now naked except for a crucifix pendant she'd gotten from her grandfather Robert.

"Daddy?" She said after several moments of silence. "What's happening? Is...is Mom's ghost doing this? I know it sounds weird, but..."

"It doesn't sound weird," I answer. Taking a deep breath, I told her about the photo of her mother and how it had briefly changed from smiling to angry.

Tati was silent again. "Dad, when the dress was trying to choke me, it felt like something was fighting back." Her hand went to the pendant her grandfather Robert had given her. "It was like it was pushing back against the dress, trying to keep me breathing."

My wife's pictures. My wife's dress. And now Robert's pendant. The pendant was a crucifix, but I highly doubted Jesus would protect people like us. A theory formed in my mind.

"Maybe ghosts can move objects that were associated with them in life. Things like clothes or photographs."

"Maybe. But this pendant came from Grandpa Robert. He was Mom's dad. Why would he help us?"

An idea came to my mind. "Why don't we ask him?"

I opened the bedroom closet. I glanced nervously at all the clothes inside, both mine and Rachel's, knowing they could come alive at any moment. I quickly grabbed a box and slammed the door shut.

The box contained several of Robert's old things. His favorite cap. Some military medals. His old service pistol. Finally, I found what I was looking for, an old Bible.

I put the book on the ground before us. "Robert? Are you here?"

The book opened by itself, as if blown by wind. I heard the sound of paper tearing and soon, bits of paper rose from the book. The letters formed a word.

YES

"How do we know it's you?"

More ripping sounds. HELLO CUPCAKE. We both smiled at the sight of his old pet-name for Tati.

"Why are you protecting us?"

BECAUSE I WANTED WHAT YOU HAVE

It took a moment for us to realize what he meant. "You wanted to fuck your daughter? To fuck Rachel?"

YES. SHE REFUSED

I realized something. "Rachel was in your old car when she died. Were you protecting us then?"

YES

"Can you keep protecting us from Mom?" Tati asked.

YES. FOR A PRICE

"What price?"

ALLISON

We both stared in stunned silence, realizing that Robert's ghost wanted to fuck his eldest granddaughter.

As if sensing our hesitation, Robert "spoke" again.

VINCENT KNOWS

Instinctively, I turned towards the door half-expecting to see my son there like his mother before him. The door was closed, but not locked.

HE RETURNED AND LEFT. HE SAW YOU. HE KNOWS. I CAN PROTECT YOU. I CAN PROTECT YOUR LOVE.

Tati and I exchange glances. She nods. "Please," I say, "Protect us."

XXXXX

Vincent returned that afternoon and said little, retiring right to his room. We ate dinner in silence, though Vincent had never been much of a conversationalist.

Before we went to bed, I gave Tati a reassuring, fatherly kiss. "Don't worry, baby. There's nothing to worry about."

I lay awake in bed that night. I couldn't tell if Robert was telling the truth about Vincent knowing.

That morning Tati and I went out to run errands and do some shopping. Vincent, lazy and never particularly outgoing, was content to be left out.

When we returned, we found him on the floor of his bedroom, a bullet in his head and his grandfather's old pistol lying on the floor.

We feigned tears and shock when the police and the coroner arrived but, the masks fell when they left.

We left the house for a hotel that night, knowing it would be safest from my wife's spirit.

Opening Robert's old Bible, I asked, "Robert, are you here?"

YES

"Thank you for protecting us Grandpa," said Tati. Turning to me, she said "Don't you think Grandpa deserves a reward?"

I smiled back. "Absolutely."

I sighed contentedly as I laid back on the hotel bed, my erect cock in the air and my nineteen-year-old daughter's expert lips around it. There was no brutal thrusting or loud moaning, like some stereotypical porn video. Just relaxing pleasure, like a nice massage. It was the first time in a long time when I felt true peace.

"Mmmm!" Tati moaned as she felt her grandfather's invisible cock slide inside her. "Oooh, it's cold. But it feels good!"

She returned my head to her mouth and stroked my shaft vigorously. I watched as her ass wiggled against her invisible lover, her hindquarters slowly rising until she was hovering inches above the sheets.

"Baby," I moaned. "Daddy's about to cum!"

"Cum down my throat," Tati mewled between sucks. "I'm hungry for your babymakers!"

I felt my climax building. My balls churned and ached as the swimmers inside grew more and more agitated. Finally, I could stand it no more and I sent millions of innocent sperm down Tati's throat to their deaths.

Mere seconds later, I heard a soft "uhhh", a whisper-moan barely within the range of human hearing, before Tati let out that familiar orgasmic moan and dropped back to the bed. I realized that Robert had cum, however a ghost could cum.

We laid there together, basking in the afterglow, a daughter, her father, and her grandfather, united in unholy incest.