The Porcelain Soul

Jake rose above her and positioned himself at the entrance to her vagina. He rubbed the head of his cock along her slit, lubricating himself with her copious juices. She strained up to meet him, but he kept just out of reach.

"Please, Jake!"

"Okay."

Jake entered her with one long, slow thrust until his balls nestled against her tiny rosebud. It was a tighter fit than he expected, and a low groan rumbled out of him. Emily had raised her hips off the mattress to meet his prolonged thrust, and the muscles of both their legs and butts were taut as they pressed themselves into each other. He pulled slowly out of her, and she lowered herself to the sheets. He pushed into her again, faster this time, and marveled at how her depths firmly held his length from the tip of his cock down to the base. Gradually he built up a rhythm, plunging into her again and again.

"Oh, yes!" she purred, and began to lift her hips to meet his thrusts.

"Oh, Emily," he whispered.

"Yes, Jake! Talk to me!" she groaned back.

"You feel so good, Emily!" he cried.

"Yes! Yes!"

Jake continued to press in and out of her, and he at last began to feel all of the lingering guilt drain out of him. Cindy would have wanted him to be happy, to please himself and others.

He took her hands in each of his and pressed them above her head onto the bed. He started to pound into her as hard as he thought she could take, and Emily lifted her legs to encircle his waist.

"Oh Emily, you're so hot," he grunted.

"Yes, yes, hot for you!" she answered.

He plunged into her and felt her pull him in deeper with her legs. Her heels dug into his buttocks as if to spur him on to greater frenzy.

"You're so tight, Emily!"

"You're stretching me out with your beautiful cock!"

She bent her head to the side and lightly bit one of his wrists as it clasped her hand. Her eyes were closed with the rapture she felt.

"You feel so incredible!"

"You feel incredible inside me, Jake!"

He was now thrusting into her so hard that she was bouncing up from the mattress to meet his every penetration.

"Oh, you feel so good."

"Yes! Yes!"

"I love the way you feel!"

"Yes, tell me!"

"I love this so much!"

"Oh yes, please!"

His excitement built to its inevitable climax. He pulled nearly all the way out of her and then plunged his cock into her as far as he could reach, releasing his passion with spurt after glorious spurt that seemed to have no end.

"I love you, Cindy!"

"YES!"

III.

Jake opened his eyes as sunshine spilled into the room. He tried to roll over and continue sleeping, but the overwhelming odor of mildew assaulted his senses and he raised himself to a sitting position. His blurred vision betrayed him at first, as he couldn't figure out where he was.

Realization came crashing to him as he looked around at the bedroom in which he and Emily had made love. Only this was no cozy bedroom; the furniture he'd seen the night before was gone, and the candles that had glowed on the mantel were nowhere to be seen. Jake glanced around and found that he was lying on a bed dressed with old, mildewing sheets.

He leapt from the bed with a cry of disgust. Looking down, he felt his blood run cold. There was only set of footprints on the dusty floor, his own, leading from the door to the bed.

"What the fuck?"

He leapt into his pants and grabbed his shirt and coat, running from the room as if chased by demons. He flew through the hallway, down the steps, and through the dusty parlor that had held scores of partygoers the night before. He didn't stop until he was panting on the front porch.

"What the hell happened here?" he thought to himself. "One second we're trick or treating, the next..."

His blood ran cold anew as he remembered the caramel apples that Emily had given the boys.

Jake raced to the car, started it, and shoved it into gear. He roared down the street, ignoring the calls from his irate neighbors as he passed. Pulling into his driveway, he leapt from the car and smashed his way through the front door.

There, in front of him, the boys were going through their Halloween candy, trading with each other and laughing.

"Hi, dad." Jamal said through a mouth full of Nerds.

"Hi. Did you guys eat those caramel apples?"

"Yep, they were good."

His neighbor Mr. Ethan stood up from the recliner and turned to face him. Jake sighed with relief and started to sputter an apology. Mr. Ethan merely winked at him.

"Don't even worry about it. You've been needing to get lucky for about a year now. And the boys were just fine."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Mr. Ethan walked to the front door and opened it. He looked out at the driveway and said over his shoulder, "Jake, you've got company."

Jake stepped over to the door as Mr. Ethan left. Striding up the walkway was a woman in business attire carrying a briefcase.

"Jacob Williamson?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"I'm Wendy Tillman. Can I come in?"

"Sure." Jake held the door open and she stepped inside. She smiled at the boys going through their candy.

"So, what can I do for you, Mrs. Tillman?"

"Miss Tillman. I'm an attorney with the city. We've had something unusual come up."

"Oh?"

"Yes. It seems when some clerks were moving some old filing cabinets around, some interesting paperwork was found."

She opened her briefcase and began digging through it. "Was your great-grandfather also named Jacob Williamson?"

"Yes."

"Ah, that would explain it."

"Explain what?"

She pulled some old-looking papers from the briefcase and handed them to him.

"A will was found that appears to leave the Pucelle House and all of its grounds to him. And since you're his only surviving relative, it's all now yours."

Jake looked down at the papers. He read the typewritten will that did, in fact, leave the estate to Jacob Williamson. There was also a note written in flowery handwriting. It read, "To Jake, who freed my burdened soul with the love of his pure heart. Love always, Emily Pucelle."

Jake looked up and smiled. She smiled back, and Jake noticed for the first time that she was very pretty, with brunette hair, blue eyes, and a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks.

"Congratulations on your good news, Mr. Williamson."

"Call me Jake, Miss Tillman."

"Call me Wendy, Jake. I'll leave you my card. Give me a call if you have any questions. Or maybe just give me a call."

"I'll do that."

She moved back to the front door and stepped outside. Turning back to him, she said with a grin, "Oh, I hope you're not afraid of ghosts, Mr. Williamson."

"Not anymore."