Room 407

Michelle loved and hated these business trips. Sure, it was nice to get away from the sun baked blazing heat of Arizona, especially if those trips took her to somewhere cooler, but she didn't like to be away from home for long, either. She loved her own bed, her own things...even if hanging out with colleagues and having a few drinks after the endless meetings was enjoyable, too.

The bonus this time was that the weekend conference was situated at an older hotel downtown, not some sterile chain place with no soul or substance. Thank goodness for that! Lawyers usually didn't shy away from spending money if it was for something nice...

After her plane landed and the taxi dropped her off an hour before check in, she grabbed her bags and decided to see if anyone else arrived. She headed over to the cozy hotel bar. She didn't see anyone she recognized, and ordered a glass of wine. The bar was sparsely populated yet, as it was only a quarter past three yet. The bar had several tables scattered throughout and a big picture window that overlooked a quaint courtyard resplendent with blooming greenery. She smiled and sat down to sip her drink, sighing.

Suddenly she felt it. An almost electric sizzle in the air, as if charged and she sucked in a breath. The air around her felt heavy, but not unpleasantly so...at least not yet. Her nipples tightened, hardened, even if the interior of the bar wasn't overly chilly. She bit her lip. God, her nipples ached.

Her sex flooded with wet warmth. She stifled a moan lest the few patrons sitting at the bar or nearby tables hear her.

"Enjoying the view, Miss?" came a voice from somewhere behind her. She turned her head, glad for the momentary distraction from her almost overwhelming sudden arousal. Not that she didn't dislike it...maybe later tonight in her room she'd still feel this horny and lay down on the bed, spread her slender thighs and...

The older man tending bar smiled at her but she hasn't heard the second thing he'd mentioned.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she asked, her pretty face flushed. "Lovely view ans I'm a bit...tired from the long flight."

The bartender nodded. "I understand. I was saying you're sitting in our most famous table. It was his favorite spot to work when he stayed here. He used to tap away on his old typewriter, or write in his notebooks. His name was Christopher Collins, bestselling author that most no one ever heard of."

Michelle smiled, sipped her wine. "Oh, really? Would I know of any of his books?"

He shook his head. "Unless you like Gothic potboilers, I doubt it. He only published a couple books and a story collection before he died. In fact, he died right in this very hotel. I would remember because I was the bartender here back then. About 30 years ago..."

They'd chatted for a while longer-his name was Howard- and he was both pleasant and charming in an older Uncle or Grandfather kind of way, and she appreciated that he never once stared at her or made any lewd comments. As she paid the tab and prepared to head back to the lobby to check in, a few new arrivals settled in the bar and while she didn't recognize them, she knew the type. Young and energetic and cocky male lawyers. Dressed in designer jeans or khakis, slip on deck shoes and Polo style shirts. They appraised her with hungry stares, some overt and some not so. She ignored the pointed looks at her long legs and shapely ass.

Michelle sighed and left the bar. While they may be handsome and good looking, no doubt away from home and at a work conference among colleagues, she wasn't here to "hook up," whether they were single or not.

Besides, she preferred older men.

Before she left, Michelle asked Howard about the room that Christopher Collins always stayed in. She was understandably curious now and also wanted to look him up on Google on my phone once she was checked into my room.

Howard wiped off the bar top near with a spotless white hand towel. He nodded. "Same room as always, for years. 4th floor, corner room overlooking the courtyard. Room 407." He paused, looking at me with his granite gray eyes."They say his ghost still haunts the room but I don't know if I believe all that." He winked at me with a grin.

Grinning, she laughed and thanked him, and went to go get my room.

As she left the lobby for her room, the single suitcase and carryon bag being in her right hand and slung over her arm, she glanced at the key in her left hand. Room 407. The very same room that Collins had been known to stay in. Also, the same room he'd...

Strangely, Michelle wasn't repulsed by the thought as would probably many others, but he passed decades ago, before she'd been born! And it wasn't like the room contained remnants of his untimely passing either. It was a hotel room. Plenty of people away from home and perhaps not in the best health died suddenly in hotels. It happened sometimes.

Equally strange was the growing sense of excitement, which she couldn't explain fully but it was very much like what she'd experienced earlier downstairs in the bar...except stronger.

Much stronger, and by the time she reached the door marked 407, she was deliciously aroused. No, well yes, but horny like she hadn't felt in years...if ever.

Setting down her bags, she unlocked the door and pushed open the door. Grabbing her luggage, she entered into the cool, dimly lit hotel room. It was small but spacious enough for one, with a nicely appointed bathroom to the left and queen sized bed. Nightstand to the right of the bed and tasteful oak dresser across from the bed with a large flatscreen TV perched atop. A courtesy phone rested on the nightstand. As soon as she placed her bags next to the small closet space across from the bathroom, she kicked off her heels and sat down on the end of the bed. The sense of arousal that invaded her, filled her moments ago, didn't seem to be the same as out in the hall...

Suddenly her clit throbbed as if she'd teased it with wet fingertips. Her nipples ached, stiff like blunt bullet tips. She moaned and flopped back onto the comfortable bed. Her legs parted as her hands immediately wanted to slide inside her slacks, under her panties, to delve into her tender pink folds, already so hot and wet, aching...

And she almost did that. Why not just take off yours pants, silly girl? she told herself. And the panties too!

Not even questioning why this was happening at all, either here or downstairs in the lobby, because deep down inside she already knew. Part of her reminder herself about her Google phone research on the author who reportedly still haunted the hotel, but she had plenty of time for that...

...because I'm horny as fuck and can't get my clothes off fast enough! Michelle added as she fumbled with blouse buttons and bra clasp, kicked off her pants and underwear.

With her clothes in a rumpled pile on the carpet at the foot of the bed, she lay on the bed completely and utterly nude. And more turned on than she ever recalled being. Her pale smooth skin gleamed. Chest heaved, breath gusting from her lips as she reached up to cup her small perky breasts in both hands, pinching and tugging on her already erect nipples. She moaned aloud and removed her right hand to snake down her flat belly and over her shaved pubic mound. Her fingers plied her drenched sex, running the tips over her swollen labia, up and down, wetting them before she slipped inside. Her back arched, ass pressing into the bed, hips wriggling a little. She maneuvered her fingers, first one...then two into her tight hot slippery pussy. Pumping. Faster and harder, her thumb brushing over her engorged clit. Her juices poured out of her and she cried out in sheer ecstasy. The insides of her upper thighs glistened with her viscous lubrication, the sweet musk of it filling her nostrils.

Oh fuck yes, oh god...she'd never felt this aroused, this hot...wet, and she knew she'd soon cum, such an intensely strong orgasm that it would border on mind blowing...

...and she had closed her half lidded lusty brown eyes, hair in a brown tousled wave framing her heart shaped face, but now amidst the inflamed sensory overload wracking her body...she felt it. Him. Touching her softly yet intently.

Hands still very much involved in her self pleasuring, mouth an O and cries emanating from her throat, Michelle opened her eyes. And she saw him. Felt him. Feathery light but a touch nonetheless on both her feet and red painted toes (to match her fingernails, of course). Both her hands ceased stimulating her nipples and pussy, but she kept her slender toned legs spread wide.

At first she wasn't entirely sure what she was witnessing, heart thumping in her chest. The cool air around her suddenly felt heavy and thick, charged with electricity like it had been when she'd been in the bar, at the table by the window overlooking the cozy green courtyard. But it was even more so, much more electric and full of his masculine...presence. It nearly drove her mad with lust and desire.

And she noticed what she'd later think of as an outline of a figure crouched at the end of the bed, next to her feet. Wide eyed, she couldn't really see anything solid and definitive, but if she squinted her eyes...a more detailed form took shape. Tall, broad shouldered, with longish hair and handsome face. He may have had glasses on. She wasn't entirely sure. He might have also been smiling at her.

"Is that you...Christopher?" It seemed outrageous and silly to try and communicate with a ghost but then again, maybe not. She briefly thought of her abuela, her grandmother, who used to bake cookies and tell her ghost stories as as a little girl.

Suddenly the sense of him touching her feet intensified to an almost warm intimate squeezing and she felt him, not cold, but slightly cool glide up her lower legs. His barely distinguishable, near transparent form leaned over her legs. She groaned and resumed her deft carnal ministrations, fingers plying her turgid stiff, oh so achingly hard nipples, her throbbing, sloppy wet and swollen pussy...

...and as her eyes narrowed, biting her bottom lip as waves of near orgasmic bliss swept over her, shuddering and quivering, she saw more of him now. And he was naked, gloriously naked...and very very erect. Thick. Meaty. Veiny. Capped with the most luscious plum sized cockhead...

...and Michelle came, her tremendous orgasm rocketing out of her in a gush of juices, her hips and ass writhing as she fingered her slit, her clit, crying out his name over and over.

She lay there with her whole body sheathed in a light sheen of post orgasmic sweat, thighs spread, quivering from head to painted toes, fingers of one hand idly toying with her swollen labia (her clit still tingling and hard and too sensitive to touch again for the moment, because if she did she might not stop), the other grazing over her nipples. She had her eyes closed and exhaled through her lips to slow her racing heartbeat...then it hit her, slammed into her...

...she just masturbated to the biggest orgasm of her life while a male ghost of a semi-famous long deceased novelist touched her and masturbated between her legs!

Michelle sat up on her elbows, eyes looking to where he'd been, barely there and mostly just a translucent shape only inches away at one point. Watching her intently and lustfully, one hand brushing over her feet and legs, his ever so slightly light touch both cool and electric, while he stroked his massive ghost cock.

Can he...did he...? Cum? She almost giggled aloud. But even if she no longer could detect his "form," such as it was...she didn't want her laughter to upset or offend him. Basking in the afterglow of her tremendously satisfying cum, she could still feel his strong presence. And despite her huge O moments ago, she felt aroused and could probably touch herself again right now and...

"No, get a hold of yourself, girl," she told herself and sat up, scooted to the edge of the bed. She leaned down and grabbed her hastily discarded clothes. As if in cue, her smartphone erupted with messages and notifications. Her colleagues had arrived and wanted to know if she'd already checked in. There would be a casual dinner and drinks thing soon, meeting, and discussion about the upcoming conference. Two days of legal lawyer talk, etc.

As she dressed, deciding not to waste time on a quick shower (wasn't like she'd actually fucked another partner and didn't smell sweaty), Michelle fixed her hair and makeup, picked up her phone and purse. She grabbed her roomkey, and cast one long look at the rumpled bed. She grinned.

Even though she mostly enjoyed rubbing elbows and talking shop with her fellow legal eagles, Michelle still felt him in here, and was even more so aroused. Her nipples ached and her pussy throbbed, moist and hot.

I'm so fucked, she thought as she left the room. And she couldn't wait to get through the next few hours downstairs and get back up to her room. And strip off her clothes to finger herself to her horny, ghostly lover.

Riding elevator down to the lobby, and quickly typing text replies, she'd realized she never got to pull up info online about Christopher Collins. Before she reached the lobby, Michelle opened Google and typed the name and the word "author." She saw a Wikipedia link and bookmarked it to read later.

Then the doors swooshed open with a ding, and she joined her colleagues for drinks and dinner. However, almost the entire time, her mind was on her near constant state of arousal and what awaited her upstairs. It was such delicious torture!

And of course she sensed his presence near her in the hotel's bar and attached fine dining restaurant. To say it was nearly too much would be an understatement!

Hours later, she quickly made her way back up to Room 407. Even before she'd shut the door all the way, her fingers began to unbutton her blouse, yanking off her business suit coat. Her feet kicked off her heels. She dropped to the bed and wriggled put of her slacks. Then her bra and panties...

...and she was utterly soaked. Her hands cupped her small perky breasts and as she pinched her already erect nipples, she purred and groaned. Her hips writhed and thighs parted widely.

"Mmmmmm, fuck me please," Michelle moaned in a voice that dripped with urgent need, hunger, desire for...him. "Christopher, oh God...fuck me. I'm yours!"

She'd left the lights on and for a moment her eyes noticed the wide mirror across the bed, above the low dresser with six drawers. She felt him in the room, warm and strong and very sexual. She squinted her eyes like before and focused...and could suddenly see him become more visible. Naked. She could see the outline of his hunky torso and broad shoulders, long fingers and strong thighs. His cock was already erect. His grin and intense gaze pinned her. Riveted her. Made her even wetter.

Hotter. For him. Her Ectoplasmic Lover.

She scooted to the edge of the bed and rolled over onto her hands and knees.

Ass in the air, thighs slightly apart, she rested her head on the comforter and turned her face to peer back at him. Her right hand slithered under her belly to ply at her hot, wet pussy. She arched her back.

"Fuck. Me. Take. Me."

When his hands touched her, cool yet electic, causing a sizzle of goosebumps rippling over her flesh, she very nearly came. She could see even more of him now, and how this was possible, she didn't know. Hell, the whole idea of this was both ridiculously impossible...but it was happening and she didn't care. She wanted him so very much, so badly.

Michelle shuddered as his big hands and long fingers caressed and squeezed her ass and hips. She was literally dripping wet, and could hear the clear viscous droplets hitting the blanket beneath. She purred in sheer raw carnal lust. She watched with half lidded eyes as his body grew more real, more solid, if that was even real, or even correct since he was freaking dead, but she didn't know or give it a moment's more consideration. She wanted his big hard cock inside her...now.

Grinning down at her with eyes burning with his own desire and hunger for her body, he clenched her tight buttocks in his hands, spreading them and nudged his thick member against her cleft. His bulbous cockhead touched the slippery wet entrance to her sex and she cried out, nearly cumming. He'd pushed it back and forth over her clit, then thrust inside her, to the hilt. She gasped and pushed back against him, his cock filling her completely, every luscious throbbing hard inch. As he began to pump his hips fluidly, pistoning himself in and out, spreading her swollen labia wide to admit him, she gushed around his vein-threaded girth. She grabbed one handful of comforter in one hand to push back into his thrusts and reached back and under to rub her clit in tight circles...

...and she came again, quaking, her whole body vibrating under the sensations wracking her, and she cried out shrilly, maybe saying his name or maybe telling him how fucking good his cock felt, and he fervently increased his movements now, almost frenzied as his body smacked into her with meaty thuds, and she could hear him now, deep guttural moans of ecstasy and after she came yet again, he exploded inside her, erupting what she knew was long ropy streams of creamy hot cum...

Michelle woke up sometime later on the bed...or actually under the covers. The lights were out, but she didn't remember doing either. Her bladder told her she needed to use the bathroom, so she got up. After she finished, she washed her face and brushed her teeth.

Back in bed, she smiled as she drifted off, satiated in a way she'd never felt before. She dreamt about him, of course. Maybe she woke up, or he woke her up in the wee hours of the morning and she rode him vigorously til they both climaxed. Or even she went down in her knees to make love to his thick hard meaty veiny cock with her mouth while she fingered her pussy to yet another mind blowing orgasm. Maybe they explored one another sexually even more...

Needless to say, Michelle had a small, satisfied smile on her face the whole time at the work conference. No one really noticed and she was quite fine with that. She'd just tell them she had a really great night's sleep. Which was a lie...she'd hardly slept at all.

On Sunday before she departed, Michelle went to say goodbye to the old bartender. She left him a nice tip, and before she left, Howard said, "Hope you enjoyed your stay, Miss. Even with the ghost and all." He winked at her.

"Oh, it was fine, really," she replied with a wry grin. "I've already decided to come back for a visit. Maybe explore this historic city more. So different from Arizona..."

Smiling, he waved at her as she headed out to catch her ride to the airport. On the way, she brought up the bookmarked Wikipedia page and read about her Ectoplasmic Lover. She ordered all his books, still in print, so she could read them when she got home.

She wondered how long she could wait until she could come back. Probably not very long.