My Ghost Story

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I relate my night sleeping in a graveyard.
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This is a work of fiction. All characters are over eighteen years of age.

I don't wonder about life after death anymore. I know ghosts are real. A ghost had sex with me, one night in a graveyard.

I'm Jim. Forty years old, average guy in pretty much every way. I was drinking with some buddies when the discussion turned to the supernatural. I didn't believe in ghosts and said so. Well, then everyone else had an encounter to relate, with me poking holes in their stories. So, one thing led to another and I ended up agreeing to spend a night in a graveyard. Male pride, stupid.

It was a warm summer evening when the guys dropped me there. They closed and locked the gates behind me and drove off. I wasn't supposed to try to leave or I'd be admitting they were right. Yeah, whatever. I had a sleeping bag, water and my phone, I was supposed to stay until sunrise.

The place was pretty big, a lot of choices of where to sleep. Weather forecast said clear and warm. I strolled around for a while as it got darker, deciding where I'd put my sleeping bag. I found a nice spot by the mausoleums, flat and dry, nothing overhead but the stars. I spread my bag and stretched out for the night.

Unfortunately I'm at that age, can't get through the night without a trip to the restroom. It was after two a.m. when I climbed out of my bag and went to the spot I'd chosen earlier; didn't want to be peeing on any graves if I could help it. Not afraid or anything, just out of respect for the dead. I finished my business and was walking back to my spot when I saw something.

It was a pale shape at first, hovering near my camp spot. I was sure it was one of the guys pulling some sort of prank. As I got closer she became clearer. Yeah, she. I was looking at a woman in her twenties, 1970's style dress, and pretty much transparent.

If this was a scam then my buddies shelled out big bucks for a hologram projector or something. Which they couldn't do, all my buddies are about as broke as I am. So this had to be real, or unreal or super-real or whatever. She looked lost, I kinda felt sorry for her right off the bat.

I walked back to my sleeping bag, wondering why I could see her, what she was doing by my stuff, why she was appearing at all. I kept my eyes on her as I approached, she hadn't seen me yet, I thought.

She was looking at my stuff, then looking off into the distance towards the gate. I was approaching from the other side, seeing mostly her back. Bell bottom jeans in a paisley pattern, tube top, skinny leather headband, she could have stepped off a poster for Woodstock. Long pale hair, could have been blonde when she was alive, great figure, those jeans were tight.

She finally turned and noticed me. Her face lit up, she was happy to see someone I guess, couldn't have been me. I was most likely born long after she died. Her mouth was moving but I couldn't hear a word, she was pointing to my stuff on the ground and smiling.

As interesting as this was I was still kind of rocked by the sudden paradigm shift in my worldview, I had to sit down. I sank cross-legged onto my bag and put my head between my knees for a second. Nope, when I looked up she was still there. I wasn't crazy. She sat next to me in fact and was pointing to something. Trial and error found it to be my phone. When I found it I realized why she was so happy.

The screen was lit, it was open to my messaging app and there was a string of texts there. Starting with a Hello, she was then asking where I was, wondering herself at her ability to communicate this way, hoping I was coming back before sunrise.

I looked at the apparition, she smiled back. "Okay, hi I guess, I'm Jim, and you're a ghost? That right?" Another text popped up, this was Cheryl, she was happy to meet me. She wanted to know when it was, how come she could do what we were doing, was I here for her, to help her?

"Slow down, miss, we've got all night. It's 2022, I'm here because I'm an idiot, and I wouldn't know how to help you if I could, sorry!" Cheryl pouted for a moment, then more texting. Why was I here then? I explained, not even trying to save face. She looked very disappointed at that, I didn't blame her. Try telling someone you don't believe they exist sometime.

Well then did I mind "talking" with her tonight? Neither one of us knew if this would ever happen again, of course I didn't mind and told her so. So we talked. I told her what life was like in her future, asked her about her life in the seventies. Was it all weed and free love like I had heard?

Cheryl couldn't blush, really, being dead and all, but I got the impression. Her text told me she didn't know about the free love, she had died a virgin. She had planned to lose it to her boyfriend. Then she found out he was cheating on her. She drove off, furious, and got into an accident. She had died instantly.

This was just too sad. I reached for her without thinking, my hand passed through her shoulder. She gave me a sad smile, no touching apparently. Her text went on, she had always regretted dying before experiencing sex, all her friends had been telling her how amazing it was. She wondered if that was keeping her here, her regret.

I tried to tell her about sex but, some things you just have to be there for. She said she'd masturbated before but wasn't sure if she was doing it right (70's, remember). I wished there was some way I could help her. Once again I tried to hold her, once again we passed through each other.

But something was different! For a moment I felt her sadness, her longing. Another text told me she had experienced something similar, she was wondering at how it had happened. I was trying to think of a way to make it happen again.

"Hang on, let me think," I said. Hmm. Okay. I stripped down and crawled into my sleeping bag. Better safe than sorry. "Cheryl, would you lie on top of me, face up, see if you sink into me at all?" A look of surprise crossed her pretty young face but she did as I asked.

A moment later I was both of us. Weird with a capital W. She was in her first year of college, liked the color green, was more of a cat person than a dog person. I wondered what she was seeing of me. Then I called up a favorite fantasy and started lightly stroking my body.

I ran my hands down my sides. feeling our skin tingle. I was becoming aroused/erect. I could feel my pussy getting wet, while feeling my cock slowly fill with blood and rise. Our nipples tightened and I moaned for us. Our breasts were getting hot, heavy. I grabbed our chest, pinched and twisted my nipples. I could feel myself lifting a tit to my mouth, sucking. She could feel me, moving down to stroke our thighs, feel how full my balls were. I was getting so wet, I needed something inside me. I grabbed my hard cock and started pumping.

Cheryl was glowing brighter as we became more and more aroused. I was feeling her joy at the experience, our connection. She was feeling what it was like to be male, I was getting a taste of her side of things. Our nervous systems seemed to merge in waves, I'd feel my own pleasure, then hers. My cock would throb and I'd feel her pussy answer.

Cheryl bent up from her waist and our connection was partially broken; it felt for a second like static in my brain. She turned and lay face down now and I understood at once, I could somehow feel her womanhood around me. I lay very still, I thought I knew where this was going.

Before we couldn't achieve penetration, now she had her ghostly groin right over my mortal meat. Our heads occupied the same space, I could once again feel her sensations. Which were so much stronger now! Somehow she was balancing us on the edge of our different realms, her body was on fire with our lovemaking!

My hips thrust upwards into nothingness, feeling as if I were inside the softest, warmest pussy imaginable. I could feel Cheryl's pleasure as she accepted me in her insubstantial cunt, she was rippling along my shaft as if corporeal. Our lust was growing at a fever pitch, we could sense each other's desire, we ached for completion.

Too soon I felt Cheryl's arousal reach critical mass, her euphoria exploded in my brain, triggering my own blast! Our orgasms mingled, hers powerful, mine primal, my body throbbed with two sets of nerves, the intensity nearly blinding. Cheryl glowed pure white, her face pure bliss, and then she vanished, as if she'd never been.

I couldn't believe it. Suddenly I was lying alone in the dark, strings of cum on my naked body. In a graveyard. But it had been real. I knew what I felt, what I'd just experienced wasn't a dream. Slowly I cleaned myself up, dressed in a daze. I lay back at last and looked up at the vast Universe. Who was I to say?

Beside me my phone lit up, one last text. It simply said, Thank You.

Wherever you are, Cheryl, right back at you.

The End

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2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

Nice quick read with minimal fuss. Makes ghost sex seem almost mundane. I did enjoy the bit where he experiences both their perspectives at once. That was well handled.

Spring20Spring20about 2 years ago

lol the powers of dreams, you want hard enough who knows

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