My Fucking Afterlife

"She really ran around naked?" she said. He'd obviously told her the whole story.

"Yeah. Quite a while. When the cops finally found her clothes, they asked me if I had hidden them and forced her to have sex," he said.

"Did you?" she asked.

He just looked at her suggestively for five seconds, then said, "Do you want me to hide yours?"

"Uhhh," she murmured.

Don't be a stupid cow. Play the game. Have some fun!

There was an awkward silence.

"What did she die of?" she asked.

Shocker! Thank you! That was the million-dollar question. I wouldn't call her a dumb fuck ever again.

"A massive aneurysm," he said. "Something biological. No way anyone could have known."

Huh.

"Her mom called me to let me know. They don't like me, which I kind of understand, but I guess she thought I might feel guilty about it. I appreciated that," Roger said.

Other than being my mom, she was a pretty good person. I didn't focus much on my parents or my sister or my friends on how they were doing. It just left me sad and even more fucking frustrated. I didn't ask for this life, and I yearned for my old one where I didn't default to saying 'fucking' in every fucking sentence.

Suzie, whose name I would soon learn in the throes of their passion, reached a hand to Roger's groin, and said, "So, you're telling me you fucked her brains out?"

That... that caused the only honest laugh I've had as a ghost. Roger laughed too. "You know, I guess I did!"

Roger had the ego that he would likely use that line for the rest of his life. Still, think about it. It makes me wonder how that phrase came to be. Right? Would be kind of self-centered to think I was the first to literally experience that. Definitely the hottest, in any case. Just seems more likely it would be "I'm going to fuck you so hard your boobs are going to give you a concussion." I know, I know. Too much time to think on trivial things. It ain't my fucking fault.

So, I watched. It's what I do. I've seen Roger's cock in action before but from a very limited view. In my next life, threesomes are going to happen for the best of both worlds. And, it seemed it was Suzie's first time with him because she otherwise would have known not to ask him to cum on her face. I thought she was going to whine about the mess, but sometimes people surprise you. Damned if she didn't put on a show as she licked it from her fingers. Respect!

So, when you're a ghost, I mentioned that you can't feel anything, just like you can't move things. Trust me, I've fucking tried. A little masturbation could otherwise go a long way to filling a boring day. I can touch the right places and fiddle with them, but I can't feel a thing. But Roger and Suzie gave me another gift. That wasn't strictly true.

I guess I'm the fucking dumb one, because when they were going at it, my hands went to the expected places that should give me pleasure. I got caught up in the watching, and then I realized... I could feel familiar sensations where I really wanted to have them. Hot fucking damn!

I realized it had been there, too, when I had spied on other couples in the library. Maybe those were too soon after I had died for me to realize what feeling nothing felt like? If that fucking makes sense.

It wasn't enough of a feeling for me to get off, but it was something, right? Right!

Suzie, I supposed, had a kink about "the spot." Two days later, she led Roger by the hand to it and stripped her clothes. She handed him her phone and told her to count to ten and find her while recording the video. Not exactly original on the premise, but she got extra points for gaining a souvenir. Run, Suzie, run. And just let your boobs bounce for fuck's sake. You look silly trying to hold them, and it makes for better video. I'm a fucking movie director now.

He caught her because she obviously wanted to be found, and I watched them fuck, happily soaking in the warmth that I so desperately wanted. She flipped him over to ride him more slowly. And that's when I learned something else.

"Uh, Roger. Your girlfriend," she began. She was looking right at me.

"She wasn't my girlfriend," he corrected her.

"Right. Listen, your fuck toy that might have become your girlfriend, was she about 5'5", light blonde hair, with a small rose tattoo in the panty area?"

Huh. I looked down, disbelieving. Of course, I knew the tattoo was there, but... she could see me?!

"Yes... why? How could you know?" Roger asked.

"I can see her," she said, pointing. "She's standing right there. Masturbating."

They uncoupled so Roger could look my way.

"I don't see anything," he said.

"I... I can't either now. She just disappeared."

And I lost the warmth.

"You saw the rose?" Roger asked.

"Yes. A small inked one with red pedals."

"That's... that's her," he said, fretting.

Cool! It was my first spook! I followed them back to the spot, and they soon left me in the fucking cold. Well, non-warmth. But same thing.

But they must have told someone. Put it on the campus message board. Or something somewhere. "My spot" became the stuff of campus legend. Someone even taped an "X" on the carpet which lasted for almost a year before a maintenance person removed it... but the fibers still showed it.

So, not only am I a ghost and voyeur, I'm an exhibitionist. When people make me warm, I don't mind giving them a fucking show. Over the last three years, I get to feel something at least weekly. Sure, you'd think that school breaks would put a break into it, but, hey, fucking on the X is just as popular among faculty and staff.

Some get spooked seeing me, which gives me some satisfaction, and others come back again and again, which gives me even more. They pretty much figure out that the longer they fuck, the longer they see me. Some even introduce themselves after a couple visits. It's sweet.

Some girls get extremely jealous when their boyfriend is looking at me, but honestly, he should be looking at me. I only saw strip bars in movies, but I've got moves, and aside from being a ghost, I doubt any college guy has had a girl as close and as explicit as me. They can't hear me, but they can see me laugh and taunt them when they reach out a hand or a tongue and come up empty. But I try not to distract them from fucking because it's kind of my space, and I need the rent.

Guys, be like Tim the Basketball Player. When he brings a girl, he fucks them long and hard to the point where they don't want to break the spell. Tim started winking at me, and I do a pretty good job of visibly admiring his cock and frowning when I point at my unsatisfied cunt. It's all fun and games when you're a sex ghost, folks. But it ain't the real fucking thing.

So, I sit on the receptionist desk because, well, you fucking understand. I'm an exhibitionist ghost looking for opportunities. What a fucking afterlife.

I pretty much have a skill now. I recognize what an amorous couple looks like. If the girl or the guy comes in solo, I'll follow them around because they may hook up with someone already there. It doesn't happen much, but you never know. It beats hoping someone leaves a newspaper open where I can catch the news over their shoulder. Exciting, right? I might learn what movie is #1 or get some investment advice.

I watch people.

"Are you... okay?"

I don't watch well enough, I guess. As I was ruminating, I was completely unaware a girl had approached me from the side. I looked at her to see what she was on about.

"Do you need help? Can I get you some clothes?" she asked.

Huh? Huh.

"You... you can see me?" I asked.

She looked very concerned. "Of course. Are you okay?"

"You can hear me too?" I asked.

She looked perplexed at the question.

"Can I... call someone for you?" she asked.

My libido prompted that it should be a hunk of a guy, but I had to squash that. "Um, I know this sounds odd, but can you touch me?" I held out a hand.

She didn't know what to make of the request, but to her credit, she tried... and her hand passed right through mine.

She stood there, looking stunned. I was stunned, too, just that she could see and hear me.

"Um, Hi," I said. "My name is Janelle, and I'm a ghost." I rolled my eyes. "Sorry. I'm introducing myself like it's an AA meeting. But really. I'm a ghost. And no one has been able to speak with me in over three years. You're the first."

"So, no one else sees you sitting here?" she asked.

"Nope. Not a soul. Except you."

"Um, well, okay. My name is Hayley."

"Nice to meet you, Hayley. I don't want to do anything to scare you away because literally you're the first person I can talk to. So, while I'm obviously special, you probably don't want to be asked why you're talking and making hand gestures to an empty space, or people might think you're the one who needs some help. Would you mind going with me to somewhere a little more private?" I asked.

Hayley passed her hand through my hand again. And then right through my body.

"Is this some sort of projection?" she asked. "I mean really, is there a TV camera somewhere that's recording what an idiot I am?"

Reasonable question! "Ah. Okay, I'll move around." I did. "See? I don't think there's technology for that. Oh, I'll show you this. Doors I can walk through." I headed towards the stairwell door and passed through it. Then I stuck my head back through and then my arm to beckon her to follow me. "Pretty please?" I asked.

Bless her. She did.

I didn't freak her out by going down three flights to the creepy floor where "my spot" was. We went to conference room whose window didn't face the main aisles.

Hayley had questions, starting with "How?" I gave her the whole story. It took hours, but hey, I had the time, and I'd missed talking with someone other than me, myself and I.

With her questions exhausted, Hayley shook her head and said, "Unreal. I'd heard stories of The Sexy Ghost, but..."

"Oh, I have a nickname!" I was excited about that. The Smoking Hot Ghost would have been better, but I'll take what I can get!

"Yeah. Every guy wants to see you, but girls... the ones that aren't scared feel a little intimidated by the show you're said to put on."

"Huh. Well, I never really thought about that. It's my only outlet to do anything fun," I said.

Hayley looked thoughtful. "You said I'm the only one that can see you though?"

"No, you're the only one that can hear me," I said.

"Right. But others didn't see you on the desk. I'm confused," she said.

"Me, too. But there's something about sexual energy that brings me a little closer to life. That's the only time they can see me."

"Weird. Well, I don't know. Is there something I can do to, I don't know, help in some way? Other than having sex where you can apparently watch?"

"Great question. Great question."

See, be it known that I stopped myself from saying 'great fucking question.' I can use polite language. I used it almost all the time before I became a fucking ghost. I thought about it.

"Well, come and see me sometimes? I miss talking. Otherwise..." It wasn't that difficult to out what I needed. I needed her to do what I fucking couldn't. "Here's what you can do. Research."

"Research what?"

"Right. I don't know anything about ghosts except being one. Maybe you could look into, I don't know, any stories of ghosts coming back to life, getting their bodies back? Or maybe find something that explains the energy around sex? Or maybe if it's connected to spiritual forces or magic or whatever that explains me? Or the afterlife? I need some answers so I can ask more questions. Research."

"Leading to... what?" she asked.

The answer was lying there. I could feel it even though I hadn't dwelt on it. "Well, I told you I feel warmth and sensations when people have sex. It kind of feels like a thermometer. It goes up, people can see me and I can feel something. It goes down, and I'm back to... ice. That's a good way to look at it. What would happen if the temperature went high enough to take me all the way to steam? Something tells me that's where I need to be," I said.

"Kind of like building to your orgasm that didn't happen?" Hayley asked.

That was it! "Yes. Exactly!" Please...

Hayley said she had time to stop by each day but wouldn't have time to look into things until the weekend. She began by bringing her boyfriend, Steven, the next day. As expected, he looked at Hayle like this was the weirdest ruse she might ever try pull as she talked to "a ghost" that he couldn't see or hear. That said, she could tell he was quite impressed with Hayley's conversational imagination for whatever joke on him she was playing.

"Why don't you bring him to my 'spot' this weekend," I suggested.

Hayley looked more than amused, and said, "That would be weird for me. I mean, with you there. But, if it works like you say, maybe he won't look at me like I'm from another planet."

"I'm still working on which one," he said, shaking his head at Hayley's monologue.

The two of them looked good together. People say that all the time, but not based on seeing couples naked and intimate. Steven was no Roger when it came to physique, but Roger was no Steven, either. If I was a fuck toy, and I kinda was, so was Roger. Steven seemed the marrying type.

Steven had been apparently eager for sex outside of the bedroom beyond while dismissing it as a "whatever turns you on" compromise. I know this because he stripped his clothes unconcerned about me, or anyone else, watching.

"Alright," he said. "Where is she?"

Hayley looked at me, sitting beside them. "She's right there, sitting. She's checked you out and given a nod of approval. So, when you see her, know that she's a..."

"...a hot little package," I supplied.

"A hot little package," Hayley said, nodding. "Don't make me jealous when you see her."

Hayley was apparently wet, and there wasn't much foreplay required. My temperature started rising. For my part, I was a good girl and refrained from the sex slut ghost act. On the other hand, I am who I am. My nipples hardened and my hand found its way between my legs.

Hayley had told him what to expect. He'd have to deal with it.

"Holy crap!" he said, pulling out of Hayley. "I thought you were just setting me up to satisfy a weird kink. But she..."

I said, "Please tell him to not to stop fucking you on my behalf. It makes us all feel better." She did, and I gave a bright smile at his hard cock, which seemed to swell with my attention.

I stood up and walked where he could see me better because how often does a guy see a smokin' hot ghost? He checked me out from head to toe. I turned around slowly so he could see me from all sides. Hayley snickered. "I told you," she said.

"Well, yes. Yes, you did..."

I put my boob within his reach, and, as expected, he grabbed for it. They all do. He shook his head. I licked my nipple, because I can, even though I can't feel anything. I couldn't help but put on a little show at least.

"Fuck me," Hayley said. "And eyes on me, too."

He reached for tits he could grope and fucked her until he orgasmed, a bit too quickly for my tastes. Hayley tried to overcome her own disappointment I could see. The warmth faded.

"I guess you can't control a guy's urges when you surprise him with extra girl parts to look at," I said. "Anyway, tell him I said it was nice to meet him."

Hayley reached into her backpack for a hand towel and cleaned herself up, then handed it to Steven, whose cock looked like it might still have some life left in it. No doubt he was thinking of me.

"Well, this is fun," Hayley said. "Now we're all naked and can talk."

"Find anything helpful?" I asked, in as hopeful a tone as I can muster.

"Who knows? Maybe?" she said. "I can't find anything about ghosts reclaiming their bodies. I think that ship sailed a couple thousand years ago. I can't explain why you're a ghost, but you are, so the fact speaks for itself. So, until a Second Coming, I've got nothing."

"Well, heck." I wanted to say "fucking hell," but I didn't want to offend the Almighty if he was listening. Maybe later. "What else?"

"There's plenty of mythology, cults and so on that speak to Halloween being when the barrier between the physical world and the spiritual are the thinnest. So, there's that."

"That's a week away." I thought about that a bit. "Huh. Got anything else?" I asked.

"Well, yes. In witchcraft or pagan rites and customs, there seems to be increased spiritual power when inside a circle, like on the floor, and even stronger with a pentagram within it, but mostly for protection."

"Isn't that like witchcraft? I don't feel like I'm a witch."

Hayley laughed. "Yeah, I thought that, too. But it's the four elements, you know, air, earth, fire and water, plus spirit or self, depending on pagan traditions. A mystic symbol... I don't know. I couldn't find any convenient Latin or spells or anything that makes it work."

"So, a circle with a pentagram on Halloween, maybe to protect me from my ghostly self? I have to believe in something, I guess. And, if I do, I'm going to need some help."

"What did you have in mind?" Hayley asked.

I glanced at Steven. "I think he's ready again."

She turned to look at Steven, whose cock was in hand and appeared ready.

"Maybe you can help him out, and take it slow to see at what point I become visible. Hayley had him lie on the floor.

"Could I, like, sit on his face? That would be a fun way to welcome him back. Or, me back," I said.

Hayley sniggered and nodded. She gave him a hand job for a while, but it wasn't until he found himself inside her that I could get a sense of feeling. "So, definitely full-on sex is required. Foreplay doesn't do it," I said.

When I "warmed up," it was more like I was sitting partially in his face, but that couldn't be helped.

Steven kind of did a minor freaking out when I became visible. Hayley's slow pacing brought me in a little slower, I thought. Steven tried to grab my hips, and he extended his tongue to lick me, but, sorry dude.

I started teasing my nipples and playing with myself. Steven had googly eyes, but Hayley seemed a little surprised.

"Why are you doing that?" she asked.

"Aside from teasing him? I know I explained what I call warming up. But it's more than that. In addition to being visible, I can also feel some things. Remember when you suggested it was like approaching an orgasm? I'm at like, Level 1. I need Level 10. I'm trying to see if even his interest in me has an effect."

"Is there?" she asked.

"Don't think so."

"Good. Get off his face. He's mine."

She said it like she was amused, which was a good thing. I really, really needed her. Them. "Maybe, if there was more sexual energy..."

Hayley told him what I said, the levels, the need for more.

"It sounds like she just needs more people," Steven said. "Hayley, didn't you read something about orgies?"

"Well, yes, but I kind of put that aside. It was in relation to worshiping idols and stuff, fertility rites, that kind of thing, Janelle."

I felt something. "Say my name again, please," I said.

"Janelle," she said.

"Well, okay. I felt that. Say it again with Steven at the same time."

They did. That got me briefly to Level 2. It felt good. Huh.

"So, you guys know what's going on around campus these days. Any orgies being planned for Halloween?" I knew the answer. I was going to be stuck being a ghost forever.

"Well, Greek parties," she said, after catching Steven up on the conversation. "But no reason to expect them to make it sex parties, maybe just more coupling."

Fucking ghosthood. Here I am, stuck in my fucking world where there were no fucking solutions for people to fuck in the library. Fuck.