The Pervert Ghost

After one evening watching a scary horror movie involving ghosts -- the mainly teenage audience were scared by it and would have been even more scared if they knew that a real ghost was in the cinema watching it with them -- I thought about ghosts while hanging around the lobby of the theater.

Over a month had now gone by since my funeral and I now had to concede that Cousin Natalie, Uncle Robert and Grandpa Joe were probably not going to come back to cross me over. Were they still walking around like I was, unable to be seen or heard? Would I be like this for eternity? It was a depressing thought. More than anything I wanted to talk to other ghosts, people who had been dead a while, to see what advice they could give me.

But where to find these other ghosts? I had not seen any other ghosts in all the time I had been dead, which wasn't all that long, but still. Again I thought that maybe ghosts could not see each other. Or maybe I did see ghosts but could not tell them apart from living people, and likewise ghosts who saw me thought I was still alive too?

I had no idea, but thought nothing ventured nothing gained, so went to the tourist center where there was a poster advertising ghost walks, the next of which was this coming Friday night and took participants to buildings in the Adelaide CBD alleged to be haunted. The girl giving the tour and the people who took the tour had no idea an actual ghost was trailing them, but if there were other ghosts around then they were having the night off.

When I was alive, I had heard that Port Adelaide was supposed to be full of ghosts, spirits residing in many of the historic buildings, pubs, dockside warehouses and maritime businesses. Catching the train to Port Adelaide at dusk, I spent a night in in the old suburb. It was certainly eerie in these buildings after darkness, and although I was a ghost myself I felt well and truly spooked. But did I meet any ghosts? When dawn broke over the Port Adelaide River the next morning, I was still all alone and the only people I could see were the stevedores arriving for their early morning shifts on the docks and they were very much alive.

A cemetery might be a place to encounter a ghost I reasoned. I spent several days going to various Adelaide cemeteries, but was disappointed. No ghosts apart from me. Given that I would go into people's houses to watch television - which I probably shouldn't have been doing but how else was I to pass the time -- one day I entered a house by pure chance where a gothic girl and her friends were holding a séance, which I don't think her parents would have liked had they known. I tried to move the glass on the Ouija Board to communicate with these teenagers, but had no luck.

One day I was passing a garden in an inner suburb when a hissing noise startled me, and I turned around to see a white cat amongst the rose bushes, which was looking right at me, a black cat behind it. The white cat was clearly unhappy and the black one was on alert.

"Hi Puss," I said to the white cat, to which it set back its ears and hissed at me, the black cat doing the same, both of them growling, arching their backs and puffing up their fur.

"Sorry," I said to the cats, going on my way but pleased that finally, after all these weeks something had responded to me. Cats were sensitive to the supernatural, but what of dogs? The Labradors on the first day I died hadn't noticed me, but what about now?

A lady walked by with a small white poodle which didn't respond, but next there was a guy walking a blue heeler, the cattle dog becoming alert as I went by, raising his fur and growling. Keen to see if other animals would respond, I went to the zoo. Mostly I drew no reaction from the animals, but a monkey became quite perturbed by my presence, launching himself in my direction while growling and baring his teeth. In the reptile house that was home to many snakes, lizards and frogs, a taipan snake reared up in an S-shaped pose to strike at me as I looked at it through the glass and scaring some children, and a pygmy hippopotamus likewise acted adversely to me being there. The big cats were all asleep, but even though I was dead no way was I going to enter a tiger or lion enclosure to see what would happen!

A magpie swooping my invisible form as I walked out of the zoo and past the River Torrens, a reaction that was like these territorial black and white birds defending their nests during spring, gave me some solace that some animals were aware of me. A bit further along towards North Terrace I encountered another of Australia's most territorial birds -- a pint sized Willie-Wagtail which fluttered around making a chittering noise as it swooped my invisible form. But as for other humans? Nothing, no response at all.

The only time something different happened was when I was browsing in an antique furniture store. I passed an old dressing table, and there I was. I could see myself as clear as clear in the glass, looking the same as I did the day I died, and fortunately missing the burns from the lightning strike that killed me. Yet even as I looked at my own reflection, a young couple came up to look at the dresser and they saw nothing unusual, and nor could my reflection be seen anywhere else, not on other mirrors in the shop, the mirrors in the bathroom nor in the front glass. The shop had CCTV security, but despite walking through the camera's vision I did not appear on the screen.

I thought more about how I had been able to see my reflection in that one dressing table mirror. Perhaps that piece of furniture was haunted? One did hear of haunted objects before. I remembered seeing something on TV once about some parents in America who bought their kids some second hand bunkbeds, and from then on their house was infested with ghosts that drove them away in the end. If that dressing table was haunted, pity those who bought it.

The Adelaide autumn turned to winter, and the first day of winter -- Friday 1st of June -- was my 19th birthday. Or rather, it should have been my 19th birthday, dead people don't have birthdays. I felt down most of the morning and considered travelling back to Victor Harbor to see my parents and siblings. But I decided not to, today would be hard for them and there was nothing I could do to reassure them. All I would do was make myself sad.

"Happy birthday Colin," I muttered to myself as I ambled around Rundle Mall, a chilly breeze blowing through the city on an overcast, grey and gloomy day, not that I could feel temperature.

At a loose end, I wandered into a department store around lunchtime and was looking around when my eye was caught by three young women. Three very attractive young women, who were dressed for work in jackets, blouses, and knee-length skirts. Presumably they worked at one of Adelaide's many corporate offices and were doing some shopping in their lunch hour. One girl was a blonde, one brunette, and the other a redhead.

The trio of girls had picked out a selection of clothes from the shelves and were taking them in the direction of the fitting rooms. The female fitting rooms. The forbidden place where only girls were allowed and guys could never go. Or to be exact, living guys. Dead men who were invisible ghosts could go in there all they liked to watch pretty girls try on clothes. I was a dead man who was an invisible ghost. I stopped short. In the nearly two months I had been dead, never once had it occurred to me to use my power of invisibility for bad things.

Despite my conscience telling me not to, I was unable to prevent myself from following the girls into the female fitting rooms, where they went into one large room and closed the curtain, unaware that a curtain had no effect on hindering the progress of a ghost.

Evidently the girls were friends and had no hesitation about undressing in front of each other, and soon they were all barefoot and in their bras and knickers. All three girls wore bikini-brief style panties and their underpants all matched the colors of their bras. The blonde wore a pink bra and panties, the brunette's bra and panties were white and the redhead wore a light green bra and panties.

I watched in amazement as the girls tried on various clothes, looking at their reflections in the mirror and asking their friends' advice on their clothes, such as 'Does my bum look big in this skirt?', questions girls often ask as well as gossiping about guys.

Like everyone else, the girls were clueless about my presence the whole time I was in there watching them try on the clothes, turned on like I had never been before at watching them in their bras and knickers. Ghosts could not get an erection, but if I was still alive and in this situation it would have taken liquid nitrogen to cool me down.

Finally the three girls finished, put their work clothes back on and returned the clothes they weren't buying, taking their purchases to the cash registers. I followed the girls and thought about how this was wrong, I shouldn't be perving on girls in fitting rooms whether I was dead or not. However, as soon as I saw another attractive young woman pass by -- a girl of Italian origin by her appearance -- in the direction of the female fitting rooms carrying a blouse and some jeans, I was on her tail and into the fitting rooms. I learned two things -- one she was wearing a light blue bra and matching light blue knickers, and two, she was quite a hairy young lady down below, her ample pubic hair visible through the elastic waistband and legs of her panties.

*

I still could not believe that I had been dead nearly two months before I thought about using my powers to spy on girls in private situations, but certainly was making up for lost time. Leaving the department store, I would go under tables in the food courts to look up the skirts and dresses of attractive women, rewarded by seeing the fabric of knickers of various colors and designs on a number of occasions.

It was now after three, and the schools were getting out for the day. On King William Street, I caught sight of a group of girls wearing the winter uniform of one of Adelaide's more pricey private girls' schools -- a blazer, long-sleeve blouse, tie, tartan skirt that came to just above the knees, pantyhose and black shoes.

The prettiest girl of the group was a petite blonde, her long hair in a pony-tail, who was blushing as her friends made a fuss of her. "Come on Alicia, it's not every day you turn 18, you have to wear these," one of the friends said.

"Oh, okay then," said Alicia, giggling slightly and good-naturedly allowing the other girls to put an 18th birthday plastic tiara on her head, and a pink sash with '18' inscribed across it over her shoulder.

I couldn't believe just how absolutely stunning the birthday girl looked, her beauty accentuated by her school uniform. The group of girls had to wait at the pedestrian crossing to cross King William Street and go into the Rundle Mall, and there were plenty of cars, trucks, buses and trams speeding along the busy street.

Behind the teenagers, I could see that Alicia was standing with her legs apart and that if anyone was to lie underneath they could see up the young girl's skirt. Of course, any man who lay down on the pavement to perve up a schoolgirl's skirt would be arrested, but an invisible ghost could not be arrested, because he was already dead.

Lying down on the pavement, I positioned my head between Alicia's school shoes and looked up her skirt. The young girl had a nice pair of legs clad in black pantyhose, and over the top of her pantyhose she wore white panties. This was a wonderful view to behold, but sadly it lasted only 30 seconds as the lights changed and the green pedestrian man came on. Alicia and the other girls crossed the road, some of her school friends and other people walked through me.

Of course, I could not feel this and got up and followed the girls up Rundle Mall past the pig statues, where they went into one of the shopping arcades and ordered healthy shakes from a juice bar, the group of schoolgirls sitting down at some tables. Immediately I was under the table, and my face was at Alicia's knees.

Her legs stayed closed for about five minutes or so, then to my pleasure her knees drifted open and I could see up her school skirt and the white panties she wore over her tights. I pushed my invisible face further between her legs, the young girl totally oblivious to the fact that a ghost had his head up her skirt and was perving on her knickers. I sniffed at Alicia's crotch, but her pussy was covered by several layers of fabric so I couldn't smell her teen pussy.

I could hear Alicia's tummy rumbling, then the teenager abruptly stood up and said to her friends, "I need to go to the toilet." The pretty schoolgirl then made her way to the nearby ladies' toilets, me following the birthday girl and eagerly anticipating what was going to happen next.

Alicia pushed the door to the female toilets and entered, me right behind her. I couldn't believe I was in the female toilets all. Like all young guys I had often pondered what went on in the forbidden girls' bathroom. At the house I had shared with the other guys, Holly and Amanda when she stayed over would obviously sometimes need to go to the toilet, and I would think about how they were doing such personal and private things on the loo as they sat with their knickers around their ankles. And earlier in the year I had seen a teen comedy movie in which two slackers messed up and caused their pretty female cousin to have diarrhea, the teenager farting and making plenty of splashing noises as she sat on the toilet. Going to bed that night, the scene of the girl sitting on the toilet with her knickers around her ankles provided me with plenty of material for solitary vices.

Now I had the chance to see a pretty young girl using the toilet in person, and never get caught. Was Alicia going to do number ones or number twos? I would soon find out, as Alicia went into a stall and after checking for toilet paper, the teenager closed and locked the bathroom stall door, the lock turning from the green vacant to the red engaged.

But closed and locked toilet stall doors are not effective against ghosts, and I simply walked through it and into the cubicle, where Alicia stood in front of the toilet and hiked up her school skirt, showing her fine young legs clad in black pantyhose and the white full brief panties she wore on the top.

Alicia pulled her knickers down to her ankles, and I could see that underneath her pantyhose she wore another pair of white full brief knickers just the same as the first. Alicia slid down her pantyhose, then I watched as the young girl pulled her second pair of knickers down too, me staring at Alicia's feminine mound, the curls of pubic hair growing on the teenager's pussy showing that her long strawberry blonde hair on her head was her natural color.

The birthday girl sat down on the toilet, her knees slightly apart showing me her pink, oval-shaped vagina. I looked closer at Alicia's crotch -- her teen pussy was really tight, and even a tampon would find it hard to get up there when the young girl had her period, which clearly wasn't the case today. That Alicia was wearing her birthday sash and tiara made her look so much hotter.

I looked down at Alicia's pants as she got comfortable on the toilet seat, and I could see the feminine stains on the double cotton saddle from Alicia's vagina self-cleansing during the day. I bent down and eagerly sniffed Alicia's feminine smells on the double cotton saddle of her knickers, the musty fragrance of teenage pussy entering my nostrils. At least my death hadn't affected my sense of smell.

Alicia began to urinate, me watching the young girl's bright yellow pee coming out of her urethra and tinkling into the toilet bowl, the water turning from clear to yellow. I could see the look of relief on the birthday girl's face as she emptied her very full bladder, the teenager having a very wet pussy as her piss came to an end.

I watched intently as Alicia unwound some toilet paper from the roll, scrunched it up and wiped her vagina, the toilet tissue coming away from the 18-year-old's genitals soaked with urine. The young girl remained sitting on the toilet, me eagerly anticipating what was coming next.

I didn't have a long wait. Alicia farted hard on the toilet, the sound of the young girl's wind echoing in the bowl. Alicia's pretty face took on a cute look as she strained, then came the splashing sounds in the toilet as Alicia pooped, the smell of the teenager's feces immediately evident in the cubicle.

Alicia looked down at her lowered pantyhose as she changed position on the toilet. She was leaning forward on it now, and I moved around the back and took in the sight of Alicia's bottom, her anus visible to me, the teenager's rear opening having smelly brown shit around it.

I felt bad about looking at the young girl in such a private position, but could not look away especially when Alicia's anus opened releasing first another fart, then another load of feces, Alicia's poos messy and very smelly. I looked at her shit in the toilet bowl, seeing gas bubbles emerging from some of her excrement that would have been farts had they remained in her body.

Alicia unwound more toilet paper and wiped her anus front to back, the loo paper smeared with the teenager's shit when it came away from her arsehole and Alicia dropped it into the bowl. Then Alicia massaged her tummy and she did more poo-poos, the feces joining Alicia's other bowel movements in the toilet, and this finished with another big fart from Alicia's bottom.

Alicia's pretty face seemed to indicate that she was done now and her rectum was clear of poo, and I watched intently as the young girl wiped her bottom, the teenager needing to unwind five lengths of toilet paper to clean herself up. Finally, the last piece of paper came away from the birthday girl's dirty bottom with no brown poo stains, and she was done.

Alicia stood up off the toilet unaware that a ghost was perving on her pussy and bare bottom, and looked into the bowl, the young girl regarding her excrement and dirty toilet paper with distaste. With her knickers and pantyhose still down around her ankles Alicia flushed the toilet, the swirl of water sending the poo and the toilet paper Alicia had shit all over to Adelaide's sewer system. I took the chance to sniff young Alicia's private places before she pulled her knickers up, enjoying the smells from both her front bottom and her back bottom.

Reaching down, Alicia pulled up her knickers, then her pantyhose, then the knickers she wore on top, before smoothing down her school skirt. Exiting the very smelly toilet cubicle, the teenager washed her hands with plenty of soap and warm water then exited the ladies' loo, the teenager rejoining her posse of friends, the schoolgirls going on their way to catch their train and discussing Alicia's 18th birthday party plans.

I stood in the middle of the busy mall, people literally passing right through me. I knew what I would be doing tonight.

*

The Friday night I spent in pubs and clubs, watching attractive girls go to the toilet all night, watching them peeing, pooing, farting and getting toilet paper and wiping their bottoms, and on some occasions managing their periods and changing their pads and tampons. I sniffed one pretty girl's soiled sanitary pad before she disposed of it in the sanitary waste bin, enjoying the smelly red blood stains on the napkin's white cover.

In one nightclub a young blonde female patron had had so much to drink -- and from the way she was acting had taken some artificial substances too - that she needed assistance to use the toilet, two of her friends having to pull her knickers down and sit her on it, then get toilet paper and wipe her dirty and smelly bottom for her, shit going everywhere in the process, the drunk/stoned girl farting the whole time and clearly off her head, laughing like crazy and thinking this was all one huge joke.