The Woman in White

He took in the glorious sight of those naked breasts. His cock twitched, and he imagined plunging it in between them. She stayed still as he reached out and caressed along the luscious mounds, appreciating their weight, enough to create a downwards sag, and their softness, the supple flesh easily dimpled by his fingers. Her nipples were thick and stiff, and he brushed his thumb over one, making her purr.

As his hands roamed, she returned to his cock, stroking lazily. He felt her gaze on him and pulled his eyes from her breasts to look at her. Desire reigned in that gaze, her earlier despondence entirely gone.

"I haven't felt like this in a long time," she told him sincerely.

He hesitated, unsure of how to answer.

Thankfully, she did not seem to need an answer, as she turned her attention back to his cock. So, he contented himself with playing with her breasts, alternating how he treated them. Sometimes he kneaded at their swells, Annie moaning at how his palms pressed into that flesh, other times he rubbed at her nipples, her moans growing huskier from that treatment, occasionally he slapped lightly to watch the mounds jiggle, giggles replacing those moans then.

His cock twitched from her steady stroking. She made sure to go from base to tip each time, the lack of warmth in her fingers and palm no obstacle to pleasure.

And then she drew back, her breasts slipping from his hands.

"I think I want this..." she said, nodding to his cock.

As he watched, rapt, she took firm hold of her breasts, and then leaned down.

"...in between these," she finished, squeezing them around it.

He gasped, his hips jutting up, his eyes going wide as he was surrounded by sleek, exquisite, cool softness, the dark pink of his straining shaft contrasting with the ivory-white of her heavy mounds, the head poking up from the valley of creamy flesh.

She giggled at the look on his face.

"Fuck, that feels good," he said breathlessly.

She giggled again.

"Your tits are amazing."

"Thank you," she replied coquettishly.

They slid up the shaft, until the head was trapped between them.

And then they slipped down, until it was again poking out.

He groaned, one of his hands resting on the steering wheel, the other on the complicated braids of her hair, making sure not to disturb them.

"It's so warm," she murmured, sliding her breasts back up again.

His answer was another groan, and then a grunt of satisfaction when she brought them down again, this time a bit quicker and harder.

She bit her lip, and glanced down at the head, peeking from her cleavage.

Her hands squeezed at that abundance, and then slid it along his length. He let out another grunt as it glided up, treating inch after inch of him to such wondrous lusciousness, until it surrounded the head.

It began to descend after a few seconds, the supple skin oozing around his length.

He kept his eyes fixed on the lewd spectacle, shuddering from the sensations.

Her breasts continued to move up and down, the rhythm slow and steady. His groans were answered by her purrs, his pleasure her delight.

"Fuck, that's incredible..."

She giggled, her fingers dimpling those generous swells as she guided them along.

The rhythm picked up a bit. She began to massage the head when she was surrounding it, adding more pleasure to the equation. Every time she came back down, she slapped her breasts against the base, creating a lewd whack, the ample flesh jiggling from the impact.

More shudders ran over him, sweat building on his forehead.

She stared down at the head as it appeared between her breasts and then was swallowed up by them.

"It's so warm," she repeated absentmindedly.

His cock twitched.

"I want it inside me," she murmured, fixing him with a needy gaze. "Can I have it inside me?"

His cock twitched again.

"Fuck yes."

She moved away briefly.

He took a good look at her face again, appreciating the delight all over it.

I have to thank Jack and Shirley for this. And my GPS.

"Ooh, you made a mess," she scolded playfully, lifting her breasts to show him the sheen of pre-cum glazing their inside and underside of their cleavage.

With a saucy smile, she swiped her fingers over both mounds, gathering that slickness, and brought them to her mouth.

He gaped at her as she sucked eagerly, her tongue swirling around each digit, the display making him quiver. Her eyes were fixed on him, that saucy smile still across her lips.

"Mm, tastes good."

His cock jumped, and he quickly brought the seat back to give her space.

She cooed excitedly, her breasts jiggling as she hurriedly straddled him.

Her dress covered his cock, hiding it from sight. She reached under the dress, one hand taking hold of his cock, the other rooting around.

"I need you to warm me up," she told him sultrily.

He waited patiently, his hands returning to her breasts, sinking into their luxuriousness.

A thought managed to sneak past his lust, warning him that he should put on a condom, but he ignored it.

I can pull out. And she's engaged. I doubt she would have anything to give me.

Her hips lifted. Wetness found the head of his length, dispelling those thoughts.

She drove down, taking him deep, and cried out softly.

Even her pussy is a little cold...

There was a moment of disassociation for him, as he stared up at her, marveling at his luck.

And then the sensations hit him, the tight embrace of her channel, the slick juices dappling his length, the strange yet wonderful coolness smothering it.

He groaned, his hips bucking, a shudder running down his spine.

The pleasure seemed stronger for Annie, who was swaying unsteadily atop him, her head thrown back, a look of pure bliss across her face. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, her mouth open in a near-perfect circle, her nose scrunched up quite adorably.

Seeing that bliss delighted him. There was no sadness now, none of that anguish he had seen so vividly, only a joyous desire. She was undeniably beautiful, the ruined makeup still caking her face unable to affect that gorgeousness. Her pale flesh even seemed to glow as she wallowed in her own sensations, not a ruddy blush so much as a faint, silvery radiance.

He kept stroking and squeezing at her breasts, trying not to move his hips so she could recover from her spell of overwhelmed silence.

When she did, she bit her lip, looking embarrassed.

"You're the first man I've been with in a long time," she told him shyly.

His delight dimmed.

So, it's not that I'm that good, it's just that you haven't had any in a while.

She smiled, sensing that dip in delight.

"Your dick feels good, though. Not just 'first dick in a while' good, but 'good' good."

He felt himself blush at her assurance.

She began to move, her dress rustling as she ground down against him, her hands settling on his chest.

As she rode his cock, he found himself thinking of her fiancé.

Left her at the altar, and wasn't even fucking her much, if at all, from the sound of it. Doesn't know what he's missing. Well, his loss is my gain, I guess.

Those thoughts were interrupted as she caressed at his cheek, looking down at him with a lustful smile. She leaned over, keeping her hips going, and kissed him.

By now used to her coolness, he kissed back. Her breasts were squished against his chest, so he let his hands roam elsewhere, one sliding down her back to grab her ass through the dress, the other returning the affectionate caress, his thumb gliding over her cheek.

The grinding of her hips grew more assertive as they made out. Despite her voluptuous figure, she felt light atop him, making it easier for him to lay there and let her move however she wanted.

The sweat built up on him, but she remained pristinely cool. He squeezed at her ass, the flesh dimpling under his insistence.

Her hips paused then. She broke the kiss to bury her face in the crook of his neck, letting out a weak cry. A tremor ran over her, and her channel spasmed around his shaft.

A surge of pride came over him as she groaned, her hands taking up fistfuls of his shirt. Dimming that pride just a bit was the thought that she had not had sex in a while.

She shifted after a few seconds and kissed her way up his neck.

Soon, they were making out again, her tongue wriggling eagerly against his.

Her hips built back up to that previous rhythm, and then sped past it.

She leaned back off him, one hand steadying herself on his chest, the other splayed against the window, her hips driving down with an increased effort. His eyes were drawn immediately to her breasts, those succulent mounds bouncing wildly.

The car was filled with their moans, hers soft and delicate, his lewd and guttural. His cock throbbed, that slick channel clutching at it. She rode him energetically, doing the lion's share of the work, his only contribution the firm grip he took of her hips to help keep her anchored atop him. The delirious passion on her face thrilled him, and the radiant glow emanating from her had not dimmed at all.

He raked his gaze over her breasts again, and reached up to stroke at one, the pad of his thumb rubbing over the nipple.

The caress made her giggle, her smile widening.

He let his fingers sink into the ample flesh, interrupting its jiggling, that giggle turning into a coo.

Suddenly struck by the desire to get his mouth there, he sat up.

His sudden movement surprised her, but he ignored her yelp, and closed his lips around her nipple. That yelp became a purr when the surprised faded and the pleasure took its place. The hand that had been on his chest grabbed a fistful of his hair, and her back arched, both actions ensuring that his face was pressed to the luxurious mound. His tongue lashed at the nipple while his lips sucked at it. Growling around his mouthful, he reached over and treated the other breast to its own stimulation.

Her hips continued to crash down onto him, his straining shaft bathed by the juices streaming from her sex. She squealed loudly and shamelessly, her pleasure building quickly, her shuddering growing stronger.

He switched over to the other nipple, sucking it in between his lips, his hand switching as well, trading places to make sure both breasts got insistent attention.

The hand that had grabbed at his hair pushed on the back of his head, squishing his face against her breast. A lewd cry spilled from her; her hips bucked and her channel spasmed. He sucked harder at her nipple, that cry turning into a grunt of satisfaction as an orgasm washed over her, those stronger shudders running along her figure. His cock throbbed powerfully, the first twinges of his own orgasm making themselves known down in his core. The thought of pulling out had stayed in the back of his mind, but he found himself enthralled by how desperately her channel clutched at him and unwilling to leave its snug confines.

Those strong shudders died down. Even during her orgasm, she had not stopped working her hips against him.

He took his lips off her nipple, and looked up at her, the utter bliss plastered across her face sending another surge of pride bursting over him.

"I'm close," he told her, "should I pull out?"

Please say no.

Her eyes widened, and she moaned softly.

"No," came her quiet murmur, "please, I want to feel it, please..."

He groaned at her neediness.

The hand in his hair guided him back to her breast.

"Just don't stop sucking there please," she told him, "it feels so good...your mouth is so warm..."

His lips quickly locked back around her nipple.

Those first twinges of orgasm grew into a coalescing pressure down in his balls. She rode him harder, her hips pumping vigorously, her breasts bouncing from the effort, her arm wrapping around his back to better secure herself.

"Please," she whimpered, "I want to feel it, I need to feel it, it's been too long, please..."

He groaned again, his tongue lashing at her nipple, drawing a lurid squeal from her.

The pressure down in his balls fired up his shaft. He bucked at the imminent arrival of his orgasm, meeting her next downward thrust halfway.

The first spurt fired out into her depths. He growled around her nipple as more followed, the formidable pleasure suffusing every inch of him, leaving him trembling. Her frantic riding stopped suddenly.

"Ooh, so warm..." she cooed, "it's so warm..."

Another orgasm hit her, and she shuddered in his lap.

His lips worked at her nipple through both their ecstasies. The feeling of that stiff bud in his mouth was too wonderful for him to let it go so soon.

Even when he finally did, he did not leave her breasts right away, kissing all over them, watching them ripple from the impacts of his lips.

"It's been too long since I've felt like this," she murmured, her hips lifting to let his cock slip from her.

"Glad I could help," he said, giving one of her nipples a kiss.

She giggled.

The look on her face made him feel guilty that he had ever thought she might be a vengeful ghost or insane murderer. Her smile was bright and genuine, her eyes shining with affection.

"Thank you."

He smiled back.

"Like I said, glad I could help."

She kissed him, her arms wrapping around him, bringing him in closer, her breasts squishing against his chest.

They made out for a few more minutes. The lustfulness had ebbed, so there was no urgency, only a calm tenderness. Her cool weight felt good on his lap, her contented purrs music to his ears.

But he soon reluctantly pulled back from her.

"We should go upstairs."

Her smile sagged into a sad expression, and he was suddenly reminded of her situation.

I probably shouldn't have assumed she wants to spend the night. She probably wants to call her family, let them know she's okay, see if one of them can pick her up.

"Unless there's someone you want to call who can pick you up."

She shook her head.

"There's no one I can call. Thank you though."

"So," he began, trying to not sound too hopeful, "do you want to come upstairs?"

The look she fixed on him was the opposite of the blissful one he had been lucky enough to see only minutes ago.

There was no happiness, only a forlorn misery. The affection was still there, but it was tinged with sadness. She opened her mouth but hesitated.

I get the feeling you want to tell me something.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he told her gently.

"I want to," came her quiet reply.

"Okay then. Why don't you get your dress back on, and we'll head upstairs?"

She slunk off his lap and slipped her sleeves on, depriving him of the majestic view of her naked breasts.

"What about your bra?"

"Don't worry about it."

Okay then.

He grabbed his jacket off the back of the passenger seat.

"Maybe put this on. It's a short walk to my building, but it's a little chilly."

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She took the jacket and shrugged it on.

He fixed his jeans and got out of the car.

What a night.

As he came around the front of the car, he stopped short.

Annie was not in the passenger seat, but the car door was closed.

And I didn't hear it open or close.

He looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Okay...where did she go?

He opened the door. His jacket was draped over the back of the passenger seat, and as he reached in to grab it, he stopped short again.

A chill hung in the space above the seat. Swallowing nervously, he patted the seat, and then his jacket, finding both cold.

Oh god.

He glanced down.

The floormat was clean, no signs of a mess, no mud, no dirt, no flowers, no high heels.

He glanced into the backseat and saw neither a bra nor a veil.

A shudder ran along his spine, a different sort than what he had felt not so long ago.

She was nowhere in the parking lot that he could see, and when he crouched to inspect underneath his car, sure that he would not find her but curious enough to look, she was not there either.

So...was she a ghost?

After a few more minutes spent looking around the parking lot, he trudged up to his apartment, suddenly very tired.

She felt too real to be a ghost though. I mean...I came inside her and everything.

He went straight to bed, still working over the possibilities in his mind.

As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of Annie.

The way his cock twitched at the thought of her troubled him, but it was easy to ignore it as sleep beckoned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Evan put the car in park.

It was near the same time it had been when he had encountered Annie last night. Much like then, very few cars were out.

The idea to revisit this spot had come to him earlier in the day. He was not entirely sure why he had decided to return, apart from the heat that flowed through him whenever he thought about last night.

After he had woken up and eaten breakfast, he had set about to trying to figure out who or what he had encountered.

A few Google searches had been fruitful.

The combination of the name of the highway, the location of the encounter, and a mention of a woman in a wedding dress had yielded several results.

One such result had been a blog post, where someone recounted seeing a woman in a wedding dress on the same highway, near the same spot, around the same time. Like Evan, he had slowed down, but unlike Evan, uneasiness had gotten the better of him, so he had driven on.

The top comment on the post had clarified the situation: [It's Annie Burgess. She was hit by a car on that highway a few years ago. Her fiance left her at the altar, and she couldn't handle it, so she just ran off.].

A comment on that comment had added more detail: [i was at that wedding. she tried to act like she was fine, but we all knew she was hurting. we were all at the venue, and she just disappeared. some of us went out to look for her, but it wasnt until a few hours later that her parents got the call. i drove along there once, cuz i heard rumors of her ghost, and i saw her. its her. i recognized the dress, the flowers, everything. its her. dont know why shes there or what she wants, but i wouldnt stop for her. just keep driving if you see her.]

Horror had swept over him while he had read those comments, but he also could not help but remember the pity he had felt for her, and the affection and gratefulness she had seemed to feel for him.

So, he was at that same spot now, waiting.

This might be the stupidest thing I've ever done. She's a ghost.

After a few more minutes, he saw, through the rearview mirror, a figure in white scuffling along the side of the road.

He shivered but felt a rush of pity at her miserable gait.

She can't be a vengeful or murderous spirit. She didn't hurt me.

He opened the passenger side window as she shuffled by.

"Ma'am?"

She kept walking.

"Ma'am?" he said louder. "Do you need help?"

She kept walking.

"Ma'am!?"

She stopped suddenly, and he contemplated driving off.

I didn't yesterday, so why should I today?

"Do you need help?"

Her head turned slowly in his direction.

"Do you need help?"

He watched as she began to shuffle over to the car. His heart was beating faster, but his cock jumped.

When she reached the car, she leaned over, showing off her cleavage. His cock jumped again as he remembered that abundant softness surrounding it.

She flipped the veil back, revealing that pretty face, streaked with ruined makeup.

The expression of pure anguish he had seen last night was there again.

But then it disappeared, replaced surprisingly swiftly by a wide smile.