The Ghost Groom

Donna automatically reached for her dick, only to have an unseen hand swat her own hand away. Suddenly her wrists were seized and yanked over her head. Immediately after this her slip was jerked up, lifted over her head and arms and tossed in a corner. The strong grip returned to her arms, dragging her to her feet. The fear which had retreated to a corner of her mind rushed back as Donna realized that she was still at the mercy of ... something.

She pulled and writhed, trying to escape. The hands gripping on her wrists went away, but only to move to her shoulders where they abruptly wheeled her around so that she faced the side of the bed. A sharp shove propelled her flying toward it, flinging her face-down across the covers.

Donna scrambled up to her hands and knees in readiness to flee, but she was again seized in an unbreakable grip which held her in that position. Her panties were grabbed and dragged down, exposing her bare rear. Donna began to wail with fright and foreboding at what she guessed would happen next. A pillow flew from the head of the bed to right in front of her, her hair was seized and her face forced down into it, muffling her cries. And then Donna felt ghostly hands begin prying her rear cheeks apart.

Despite having shot a load into her mouth just seconds before, the cock that was soon pressed against Donna's rear passage felt as rigid as ever. Luckily it seemed that its immaterial nature meant that, even though it was instantly forced past her clenched sphincter and deep up her ass with neither lubrication nor attempts at gentleness, Donna wasn't injured. She felt her anus stretch uncomfortably as the incorporeal penis plunged balls-deep, but that was all. Soon even that discomfort passed away as her backdoor relaxed to accommodate the intruder.

Her invisible sex partner began to thrust in and out, at first slowly and unevenly, then gradually settling into a regular rhythm. Donna felt his hips bounce off her bottom, his balls slap against her thighs, and she moaned half in resignation, half in pleasure. She was still being held down by a force that no effort seemed capable of dislodging, so she finally gave in and quit fighting it. Once again the restraining hands slackened their grip on her when she stopped struggling, letting her lift her head off the pillow.

"Oh, god, I'm getting fucked. I'm losing my virginity to a ghost," Donna panted. She heard a faint chuckle of agreement, and the hard cock in her began making deep, hard thrusts.

The electric tingle in her ass was even stronger than it had been in her mouth, and Donna's own dick was dripping with her arousal. She put a hand under her to touch it, but her wrist was seized and pulled behind her back, while at the same time another hand came down sharply on her bottom in three hard spanks that drew yips of pain from her. Clearly her disembodied ravager was not happy with any reminder that she wasn't fully female. Nor was he about to let her deal with her swollen erection by touching it.

"Oh please, let me cum, let me cum," Donna whimpered. Her own voice startled her. She sounded very feminine, more than when she'd played at talking in a femme voice in the past. Maybe it was a side effect of having a hard shaft plundering her ass, she thought vaguely.

Whether in response to her plea or not, her ghostly bedmate picked up the pace, pumping into Donna's rear faster and faster. She began to gasp and grunt in response to each hard thrust, unable to control herself.

Donna felt her ghostly rapist bury his cock as deep as possible and hold it there, and the shaft inside her suddenly seemed to swell to twice it's former size. And then she felt a massive outpouring of the cold, electrical jism explode into her, flooding her rear tunnel.

A shocking, galvanizing feeling instantly shot from Donna's ass straight up her spine to her brain, almost making her white-out in ecstasy. She froze in place, caught in mid-gasp by the thrilling power of it. The intense tingling spread out from her ass to the rest of her body, making waves of hot and cold pass through her. Spontaneously her own dick erupted, sending jet after jet of cum onto the bedspread below. Unable to hold herself up any longer, Donna collapsed onto the bed, her penis still spurting.

Donna wasn't sure how long she lay there, but even after she came back to her senses she didn't move, afraid that it wasn't over. Finally she climbed shakily to her feet and scurried to the bathroom, ectoplasm and her own semen leaking down her legs as she did.

Once she was finished cleaning herself up Donna crept back out in the bedroom, wondering what would happen next. Now however the room seemed truly empty. In fact, aside from the rumpled bed and the pool of her own cum on the bedspread, there was no sign of what had happened. Even the ectoplasm, the only visible trace of the ghost, had evaporated.

Donna blew out a breath and shivered, not yet sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. But what could she do? Scream, now that it was over? Call 911 or the hotel staff and tell them ... what? That the local ghost had just raped her? And then how exactly to explain why an ostensibly straight male born-again sales manager was dressed up in women's lingerie when the ghost attacked?

Donna shook her head. Obviously she didn't have any real choice other than to go to bed and try to pretend the whole incident hadn't happened. She picked up the slip the ghost had pulled off her and put it and the now-torn panties away. Then she took off her stockings and basque, which she'd never planned to sleep in anyway, they were too uncomfortable for that.

She considered putting her male underwear back on for sleep, but that idea immediately made her sadder than ever. No, she was going to do what she'd planned to do and go to bed as Donna, damn it! On a whim she took out the white babydoll she'd worn the night before on put it on. The panties that went with it were torn, she'd just have to do without. She crawled under the covers and, exhausted, fell asleep instantly.

*****

Don half-woke to feel his wife get into the bed beside him. Probably one of the kids needed something, he thought drowsily, and turned away to go back to sleep. He felt hands gently rub his back through his pajamas and sighed with pleasure, wondering what he had done to be rewarded in this way. It had been years since his wife had cared enough to bestow any sign of affection on him just because they were married.

Then the hands traveled down to cup and massage his bare bottom. Don became startled, both because that was something his wife would never do, and because the hands were unmistakably large and male. Coming more awake he remembered both that he wasn't at home and what had happened the evening before, and froze.

But the hands remained gentle, even tentative, caressing rather than compelling. This wasn't the demanding grasp from before, it was tender. Slowly Don relaxed into the touch, and as he did felt himself slip back into being Donna.

The presence in bed with her was unmistakable now, a large male form at her back, his strong hands moving on her body. The fingers moved to her sides and began to tickle her through her nightie, and Donna giggled.

She felt cool lips press against the nape of her neck in a soft kiss and she shivered, but not from cold or fear.

"You've been lonely a long time, haven't you, Cornelius?" Donna whispered.

A voice that was less than a breeze seemed to echo, "a long time."

Donna turned to face the ghost. In the darkness she could almost see a face, a sad-eyed man with an old-fashioned handlebar mustache.

"I've been lonely too," Donna said, and opened her arms wide to take her lover in them.

They kissed long and passionately. And then they made love. Not the driven and desperate sex they had engaged in earlier, but slow, gentle love which seemed to last the whole night long.

*****

When Donna awoke again the morning light was pouring in the windows, banishing all the shadows in the room. Regretfully she rose and showered and became Don once more.

While checking out of the hotel, the desk manager looked at Don's room number and asked, "Any luck seeing our resident 'ghost'?"

Don smiled. "Can't say I really saw much, no."

The man chuckled. "It's all nonsense, of course, but you'd be surprised at how often women get spooked. Our policy now is not to put any lone females up there just because so many of them have asked for a room change in the past. It's an old hotel, things creak in the night and women get hysterical over nothing."

Don shrugged. "I suppose that could be it."

"I'm sure of it. In any case, your bill is all in order, here's your receipt," the manager said. "I hope you had a pleasant stay and that you'll consider booking with us in the future."

"Actually I did have a nice stay, and I expect business to bring me back this way," Don said. "So don't worry about room 628, I'm planning to reserve it every time I'm in town."

The manager laughed politely, as if Don had made a funny. Don left the desk, heading for the exit.

"I'll have to think of some reason why I can't sign that contract," Don thought to himself as he walked through the doors. "Maybe that clause about indemnity, I could claim I need our lawyers to go over it. Then they'll have to send me back to re-negotiate, and I can stay at the hotel again. Just have to think of some reason to ask for a specific room when my secretary makes the reservation. Maybe I'll tell her I'll make the reservation myself."

As Don hailed a cab, Donna wondered to herself where she could get her hands on a wedding gown in her size.

She just knew that Cornelius would love seeing her in that.

THE END