The atmosphere was perfect for Halloween reading. Late night, blanket-worthy chill, thunderstorm. Not an opportunity he liked to miss. The dim lamp beside him flickered and made his eyes sting. He should swap the bulb later. The wind briefly picked up, flinging the rain against his window. Thunder cracked.
His breath hitched as he turned the next page. Then he groaned. Another jump-cut cliffhanger. A new bush for the author to beat around. Brett put the book face-down on the nightstand and went to the kitchen for a glass of water and a break for his strained eyes.
A close blast of lightning roared from outside. He jumped in fright and landed on the kitchen tile floor. Then he was slipping on his socks, scrambling for footing. He caught the edge of the counter to save himself and sighed in relief. Fuck, he was jumpy tonight.
He turned around and flicked the kitchen light switch up.
It remained dark.
The darkness extended into the living room.
The power had gone out.
His lips pressed together. That was it for the night, then. He had no light, and his phone was almost dead. The book would just have to wait until tomorrow. November first. Then he could finish his Halloween reading list.
Brett scowled. That wouldn’t do.
A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the book on the nightstand, begging to be finished. The night was still young.
Didn’t he have a reading light in his bedroom? It should be in the nightstand.
He stumbled through the darkness into his room and rummaged through the drawers. It took a while of useless searching for him to recall that he’d lent it to the girl that lived a few floors above him. Hannah was her name. That was one of the few times he’d seen her outside her room.
Not that he didn’t like the shaggy look.
She still had it. He’d just have to ask her nicely to return it. Which meant a trip to the top of the cold concrete stairwell.
After he put on slippers and a sweatshirt, he opened the door to get a blast of cold air. He scraped a foot on the first stair to check if it was slippery, found it satisfactory, and started the climb, using the last of his phone’s power to light the way.
Two steps in and he remembered that he hated this stairwell. It was a cold, narrow, hard-edged spiral of poorly maintained concrete and steel that did everything to make him feel caged. It belonged in a prison, not an apartment complex. Even with his heavy sweatshirt he was a shivering wreck by the time he got to Hannah’s door.
He stopped himself just before he knocked. Why in the hell would she be awake right now? If she was, she was probably using the book light, because all her main hobbies were on her computer. He would be a dick to take it away when she was using it.
Brett pushed through his hesitation and knocked anyways
“Hannah? It’s Brett. Are you awake? I need my book light back.” He called through the door.
While he waited he rubbed his hands and bounced in place, trying to keep warm. Something thumped from behind the door, briefly raising his hopes, just to deflate them after a solid minute of cold nothing.
“It’s kind of a dick move, asking for it back when the power goes out again. But I lent it to you a while ago and haven’t seen it since.”
A slap, like a magazine closing quickly, and another thumping.
“It’s fine. I don’t need it anymore.” said Hannah.
The door creaked ajar, and behind it Brett saw a source of light dash out of view. After receiving no further invitation, Brett opened it all the way. He choked on the rotten smelling air. Did something die here? He pinched his nose shut and hesitantly stepped inside.
Inside it was pitch black, and somehow colder than the stairs. That must have been the work of Hannah’s long fur. She wouldn’t feel the cold like he did.
The smell became exponentially worse as he waded deeper into the apartment. Hannah’s silence was immensely unsettling.
“It smells like hell in here. Is everything okay?”
Not a sound came in response. He couldn’t even hear her breathing. Very carefully he began poking around for his light. She must be playing some kind of Halloween trick on him. Yeah, that was it. Just making some fun for herself.
He heard the door slam shut behind him and froze. That was the only sound he’d heard since coming in. The silence was only disturbed by his footsteps and breathing.
He couldn’t stand it any longer. He took his phone out and switched the flashlight back on.
What became immediately apparent was the source of the stench. It was a huge disgusting reddish-brown spot on the carpet right in front of him that he’d almost stepped in. He reeled and fought back the surge of bile in his throat.
“The fuck? Is everything okay?”
It was as if the storm raging outside had zipped its lips to hear her response. None came. All he could hear was his own quickening breath, and the absolute lack of Hannah’s own. Brett scanned the apartment with his phone light. Aside from the valley of food waste he just went through, there wasn’t much out of the ordinary, save for the amount of flies in the air. Most of them were in the kitchen area.
Eyes wide, nose burning, Brett stepped over the spot and took a peek into the kitchen. Flies buzzed around a mound of dishes, mostly bowls, stacked on top of each other as if the vermin had built a city in the sink.
Something in the bathroom clattered to the floor. Brett gulped. The ending of his book better be damn worth finding out whatever the hell had happened to Hannah. The bathroom door was cracked open. Brett shined his flashlight inside.
Nobody was in there.
And then his phone died. He was imprisoned in darkness, and at the mercy of whoever was in there with him.
Because there was a spectral blue light growing behind him. He froze in place. Decided that he didn’t want to see what was coming.
“It’s like a graveyard here, isn’t it?.” Said Hannah’s voice, from behind.
He whirled and saw Hannah, or a spectral approximation of Hannah, floating off the ground. She looked mostly as she did in the flesh. Short and plump, and covered in shaggy brown fur that looked like it had never been trimmed in her life. It coated her so thick her eyes were barely visible, and her ears poked out from behind huge tufts of what used to be brown.
But now it was translucent and blue. He had to strain his eyes not to see through her, and her legs had fused into a long, serpentine ghost-tail. Because of that she was only wearing a dirty bath robe as cover. No room for pants.
He glanced back to the spot on the carpet. It was shaped like her body, laying prone on the carpet.
His vocal chords proved impotent to form words.
Brett tried to throw up his hands in surrender and jump back at the same time. Instead, his back endured a painful collision with the door frame behind him, knocking the air out of him and damn near popping his eyes out of his sockets. When the stars cleared from his eyes, Hannah’s spectral face was inches from his, snout poking his nose, eyes frenzied, teeth bared. Her spectral form turned a deep red.
“If you know what’s good for you, you will be silent about what you saw tonight.” Her voice reverberated weakly. Vestigial wings fluttered against her bath robe.
Words failed him.
“Shh” She stopped him, “My body is gone. I threw it down the chute in a bag months ago. I haven’t ever missed rent, nor have I even left the apartment since then. Nobody’s complained. I have done nothing wrong.” She pulled back and crossed her spectral arms, “If you try to get me kicked out, I’ll go to your apartment. And I will not be friendly.”
He quickly agreed, which did calm her down. Her spectral form shifted back to the deep blue color. After seeming to find him sufficiently cowed she plucked his reading light from a pocket in her robe and dropped it in his lap.
Brett gaped at her. Her hard expression frayed at the edges with something that looked like fear. She twiddled her thumbs and waited for him to just take his book light and go. He didn’t know what to make of that. She had him backed against the wall, and he wasn’t planning on making supernatural enemies.
“I’m not in your way. You can just walk through me. I don’t have clipping on.” She cringed as if the last words came out without her consent.
He stood up on wobbly legs, wondering what the hell clipping meant. He picked up his book light. “So you won’t get me if I don’t tell anybody”
She nodded, “Don’t say a word to anybody and we’ll be good. Just have your light back. I don’t need it anymore.” She really didn’t, given that she glowed bright enough to illuminate the whole room.
Brett looked over the pitiful state of the apartment. His eyes lingering on the corpse-spot on the carpet. Then back at her.
“You’ll have to do something about that spot. It’ll start leaking through the floor soon.” She flinched.
“I cleaned up the best I could,” her eyes got shifty, “If I call someone who knows how to clean that, they’ll probably know what it is.” Her looked soured further. Touchy subject.
Any response he pieced together collapsed under the weight of the situation. There was a ghost in the apartment. Hannah had died and nobody noticed for months. She’d been dead and stuck inside for months. She died and kept going on like nothing had happened. And all she wanted to do was keep her apartment. How pitiful was that?
“What happened?” He asked dumbly.
“I think I tripped and fell on the table at an angle. Woke up like this, panicked, stuffed my body in a garbage bag and tossed it down the chute.,” She shrugged, “Guess I saw what was waiting on the other side and didn’t like it. I don’t remember much. Flashes of color, fear, confusion.” She shut her eyes and grasped her temples, “Bat out of hell, huh?” Cold bitterness oozed from the flimsy joke.
“And nothing changed? You just…” He gestured to the room, “Went back to normal?”
“Yeah” Her ears drooped. She sighed a ghostly sigh, “I never went out much anyways, and I could still talk by phone or texting as long as I didn’t send pictures. Easier to pay rent when you don’t need to buy food.”
“Dead to the world, huh.” The pitiful joke fell out of his mouth before he could shut it. Brett looked away from her.
“Ha-ha.” She looked off in the same direction, “Dead to the world.”
They were silent save for uneasy pacing and hovering. His view of the world had gone up in flames overnight, leaving a whole lot of smoldering questions that he’d never put much thought into, of the soul, gods, and sprits. The like. Brett stamped down the paranoid tide of past regrets and their karmic implications. He began to notice how much his heart weighed in his chest.
“What are you sticking around for? I’m not keeping you here.” She crossed her arms, “Too busy ogling a dead girl?” She accused.
Brett ignored it, “I’d ask you the same. Aren’t ghosts supposed to have unfinished business?”
She scowled and turned a dark red, throwing her arms up in defeat “I don’t know! I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why I came back, and I don’t know how to leave. If I have something I’m supposed to do my best guess is to finish all my games or get laid. One’s ongoing and the latter is unlikely.” She hovered over to the couch and flopped down, her head phasing into a cushion, "I’m just winging it.” she slammed her ghostly tail on the coffee table.
In a stupor, Brett sat down on the couch with her. Bubbles of deep blue bounced around under reddish translucent skin. She looked like a lava lamp.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She said from within the cushion, “you find out I’m dead and now you’re trying to be all nice and consoling? Too late for that.”
“I don’t know. Reeling.” He said absently.
“So you’re just going to sit there?” She asked.
“I shouldn’t. I should leave.”
“You can stay if you want. Join the pity-party. Misery loves company.”
They sat. It was a good sit. Her couch was warm, covered in blankets he could wrap himself in. He pondered the tail that had replaced her legs. It looked like a few snake-folk he’d seen. It was long and tapered to a thin point that appeared to work just as well as any snake tail he’d seen.
“Can’t imagine it’s easy to play video games with ghost hands.”
She moaned “Are you seriously going to interview me?”
“I’m curious.”
She was silent.
“Fiiine,” she groaned, “going through things is selective. I can choose to or not. But I have to try and touch things, if you get the gist. I can only feel things I’m trying to touch and I can’t tell what temperature it is. I can’t smell anything either. Only see, feel, and a little touch.” That explained how she lived with the stench,
“That defeats the purpose, doesn’t it? What’s the point of having a body if you don’t need it to touch things?” He asked.
“I’m glad it defeats the purpose. Being dead sucks. I lost all my muscle memory. Now, I’m terrible at games. All I can do is watch anime and read,” She looked down at her belly, “and I’m still fat. I’m going to be fat for eternity because I died fat. I don’t even get to eat anything, but I get to stay fat.” She said bitterly. She turned fully blue.
“Maybe if you floated in circles fast–”
“Stop talking about it.” Her ears twitched in agitation.
He shut up. She kept going, “I turn into a light show whenever I feel anything, and trying to be invisible gives me a headache. So I can’t leave because I’ll lose concentration on being invisible and then I’ll become an attraction or a government experiment. I’m the most awkward, stupid, self-defeating ghost ever to exist and I have no choice in the matter.” She sighed. “What the fuck is the point of this? Stuck between life and death and I don’t get the benefits of either! Accursed to dwell forever in my own apartment until the NEETbux run out and I get evicted!”
She threw her hands up in defeat. “Maybe this is Hell. Maybe I’m dead and haven’t noticed the transition to Limbo because I never go outside. Maybe you’re a demon sent to drag me out of my room to Hell.” She looked at him, “If you are just cut the crap already.”
Brett shrugged and stayed quiet. Hannah rolled her eyes and threw her arms over the back of the couch. She whipped a cup of ramen across the room with her ghostly tail-end.
“Life is pain, and then you die and it stays the same.”
Silence. Hannah turned a shade of aquamarine.
“Did you fall asleep?” She glared at him.
“I was thinking that if I thought really hard about it God would come to pick you up or something.”
She blew a blue raspberry, “Gee, thanks for the thoughts and prayers!”
“Thought I’d be a good samaritan and try to help.” He snorted, “Proof that God doesn’t listen to my prayers.” Her foul mood rubbed off on him.
Together they basked in pity and resentment. Hannah’s couch blankets buffered him against the cold air. She vented every most-mortem grievance, every theory she’d come up with on the spiritual implications of dying and being unable to leave the world.
“Maybe it’s the next step of evolution. You’ve ascended beyond the physical body. Don’t need it any more.” He jested, “You’ve accomplished what monks and magicians have been trying to do for centuries.”
She spat a glob of ectoplasm on the floor, “Imagine that. I’m not even at wizard age yet. Aren’t I a fuckin’ prodigy?” She chuckled, “Of all the people to attain immortality. Of course it’s the one person who doesn’t want it.”
“Well look on the bright side. You’ll get to see all the video games ever released. Out of anyone, you have the most time to appreciate our artistic accomplishments.”
“That doesn’t help.” She sighed, looked down at her ghostly tail turning a shade of royal purple. She brushed his foot. “I have all the time to get burnt out. I have an eternity to lose interest in all my favorite things. And to top it all off, I doubt I can legally rent. Once they find out I’m dead, even if I literally beg them not to, they’re going to kick me out of my home. I get to spend eternity as a homeless ghost without even the faculties to get high.” She looked at him, “Anyone else could have made better use of this. For me this is the worst possible thing that could have happened.”
She looked him in the eyes and sighed, “Whaddya know, talking about it does help.” She sniffled, “Look at me, dumping my baggage on the first guy who enters my lair. This is why I’ll be forever alone.”
Brett was looking at the spot on the floor.
“You know, if nobody noticed you throwing away your body, nobody would notice you throwing the carpet away.”
Her nose wrinkled atop her snout, “That might work, but it’s probably seeped into the floor under it. I didn’t die when it was cold.”
Brett became queasy, “Might be easier to just throw away the carpet and clean it from the hard floor.”
“That would still be somebody else doing it. I don’t know shit about cleaning.”
“You could stay a night down at my place if you ever need to.” He said automatically.
She froze and turned a shade of green, with bubbles of pink. She suddenly became very interested in phasing her hands together. Brett looked away so she didn’t see the sweat beading on his forehead. What was he thinking? There was nothing to do at his place. Why would he invite her over?
“To be honest, I don’t know if I can even leave my apartment. I haven’t tried.” A touch of nervousness in her tone, “I’d like to. Get out of here, that is. It's really lonely here.”
She floated up and off the couch and over to the door. She poked a nervous finger through the door, probing for any resistance. When she encountered none, she stuck a whole arm through the door. Then her head went, although her robe couldn’t go with her. He looked away as she came back in and adjusted her robe to cover her chest up again. She floated into his view with a hopeful expression, “Yeah! I can leave,” She said, “Let’s get out of this dump.”
Brett followed her out of the apartment. She floated above him, lighting his way with her warm orange glow. They chatted the whole way down. The journey felt a lot shorter going back. He’d just invited a girl over to his house out of the blue. She had agreed to it. She was going to be disappointed with how little there was to do. Why did he say that?
Brett pushed the door open and they went into his sparse apartment. The polar opposite of Hannah’s, almost completely unadorned save for a trio of bookcases and his reading chair by the window. The rest was white, cheap, and plain.
Hannah checked out his book collection, thumbing the antiques.
“You can read them if you want,” Brett said.
“Nah. I came over for company, not to go back to reading.” She scanned over his apartment, “Do you have any games?”
“I–” He rubbed the back of his neck, “no.”
Hannah huffed, “What’s the point of a sleepover with no games?”
Brett jolted, “A sleepover?” Hannah laughed, “Yeah. I’d like to stay the night. Be somewhere else for a change.”
Brett shifted in his seat uncomfortably, “There’s nothing to do here, though.”
“There’s something to do. Sleep.” She floated in the air, miming sleeping, “Ahh. The freedom to sleep whenever I want! I thought I was going to be alone in my room forever.” Suddenly she dashed up to him, “Please let me stay. I can’t stand another night in my apartment.”
Brett quickly broke, “That’s all you want to do? Sleep over?”
“I’d like to do more, but if you’re not comfortable.” She blew a pink raspberry. It didn’t sound bad at all. There was no reason to turn her down, save for untoward implications. It wouldn’t be a problem at all.
Besides, Brett was enjoying the company, and so was she.
“Then it's night.”
She smiled wickedly, “then let’s get to the good part. It’ll be a good night!”
He got up and stretched, “Then good night, Hannah. See you tomorrow.” In the corner of his eyes a smile stretched across her face. He was glad he could help, even if he wasn’t the best company.
Brett took his leave to get ready for bed, using the book light to make his way to his toothbrush. His mind wandered to strange places while he brushed. He withdrew to his own confused, strangely content thoughts about the night. Those smouldering questions about the existence of souls and the suddenly all-important matter of spirituality had burned themselves to cinder. He was too tired to deal with those now, so he just thought about Hannah instead.
She was…pleasant. A lot more talkative then when he’d seen her before, but she had a lot to talk about now. They both sat comfortably out of the loop, and their interests intersected enough to make bridging the gap easy. The only big difference they had was employment status.
And now Hannah was sleeping over. That was weird, having a woman in his house after so long. It wasn’t like anything untoward was happening, there was no reason for him to be so antsy.
Still, something about that weighed on him.
He finished his teeth and walked out of the bathroom and into the hallway and immediately noticed something off. A weird smell, faint and sickly-sweet, wafted into his hallway. He sniffed the book light in his hands. It wasn’t the source. Just his nose playing tricks on him again. It wasn’t a bad smell. Just out of place.
Lightning struck outside. When it faded he heard a noise coming from his bedroom. The blinds closing?
Brett inched his way around the corner, half-expecting Hannah to scare him for fun. He turned the corner and gaped.
His bedroom door was open. From within was a squelching sound, like somebody was fondling a mound of jello.
Brett gulped nervously, and then inched towards the door. With great trepidation he peeked into his room.
Hannah was lounging on his bed, naked, making a scene of groping their own sizable, goopy pink-ectoplasm breasts.
Brett’s mouth fell open. A thin, trembling smile grew on her face, but it didn’t match up with her pleading eyes.
“You know what? You were right. I’m wasting my time by staying alone, and it’s not like anybody can stop me.” A finger traced her clit, showing it off, “Why don’t I check ‘getting laid’ of the exorcism to-do? Maybe a good dicking will free my soul.” She joked.
Brett wrestled his eyes away from the magnetic pull of her breasts and looked her in the eyes. They shifted too fast for him to follow, but he could see she didn’t want to return the look. She shifted uncomfortably, kneaded her breasts a little harder, tried to entice him into bed. Brett made a tentative step forward. Then another.
She had him convinced.
He crawled into bed next to her and tugged up the covers. Hannah’s mouth shut. Brett forced his traitorous eyes up to her anxious face and scrambled for something appropriate to say. What did he even say or do?
“I wouldn’t mind but if you don’t want to,” He blundered, “I mean what do you really feel about it? Are you, uh, into me?” Words failed him.
They failed Hannah too. For a while they both just sat there and breathed heavily as if exhausted by the pressure of the situation alone. Brett tried to piece together the decisions that led up to this point. What did Hannah want? Why did she decide this was a good way to get it? Because he surely hadn’t won her favor by his own merits alone. There had to be something she got from this. Perhaps she needed to feed off his life energies to stay tethered to the living world. She was getting a grasp on her words now. She’d take it back and they would just forget it.
“I’m asking you,” She put on a brave face, “If you want to have sex,” She said, "Because I’m desperate and lonely and you’re the only person I’ve talked to in several months.”
“What do you mean by that, though? We haven’t done anything. We barely know each other”
“You’re the only person who knows I’m dead. And you’re obviously willing.” She inched closer to his face, “And I really just need to know if this will do the trick and set me free,” She waved her hand through the blankets, through his pants and crotch. She felt like a warm, slick spot passing through him, “No strings attached. Just take off your pants and let’s get to the good part.”
Brett did as she said, tearing off his pants and underwear and throwing them over his shoulder, immediately shivering from the cold. Hannah giggled nervously and reached through the blankets to grasp his erect manhood. Her hand felt warm and humid and only slightly solid, her fingertips seeming to sink inside his shaft a little. She didn’t need lubrication to glide across his skin as she stroked him.
Hannah waited for Brett’s mouth to open before she dove in for a kiss. Her spectral tongue entered his mouth and began searching. Her orbs phased into his chest and warmed him from inside. Her entire body coiled around him and inside him like a living, amorous blanket. Brett’s cold shivers turned into pleasurable trembles.
He began to push back at her long, thin tongue with his own. The sensation was somewhere between sticking it into water and licking jello, not quite physical but not intangible. It was too perplexing not to keep going.
For a little while he just instinctively bucked into her slow stroking while her tongue violated the laws of physics in his mouth. She’d developed a marvelous control of selective tangibility. Her tongue would phase through his whenever he cornered her, just to come back from the other side. Sometimes she made him shudder by going out of bounds and slathering his jawbone in ecto-spit, or experimentally poking him in the back of the throat. None of these were any fun, and she usually got back to focusing all her attention on his tongue.
But her patience in foreplay waned quick. She ramped up the pace of her strokes before suddenly pulling her hands away, leaving him twitching in the cold air. She dove into the bed, leaving Brett confused.
“Boo.” Only for her face to surface behind his, on his left side, where her tongue was suddenly going through his cheek to kiss him from an impossible angle. Her body again coiled around him, now from behind.. In the corner of his vision he saw the tip of her ghostly tail poke out from the blankets to wave at him mischievously. Then it dove right back under to start drawing circles around his cock head.
Brett groaned, partly in confusion, mostly in arousal. Her tongue flanking his was a bit much, but the pressure on his glans stunned him. He could see the curve of her tail as it played with his dick, sometimes flicking right through the tip.
His face was going red from the effort of holding his breath in. Talk about a killer tease, she was trying to strangle him! Brett patted the bed to tap out. Hannah pulled back her tongue, and he shot up to gasp for breath.
She had the gall to laugh at that.
“What’s so funny?”
“You could have breathed whenever!!” She whispered into his ear, “I’m not physical,” Her tongue went back in his mouth for emphasis, still from behind. He breathed experimentally.
Her tongue was draped over his while he spoke, “What if I bite your tongue?”
“I’m a ghost. Don’t think about it too hard.” She mumbled.
He gave a thumbs up and eased back into her embrace.
Her tall had fully coiled around his dick to stroke him now, but Brett was still locked into the strange kiss. He squirmed in place, tried to figure out how to interface with the other tongue dancing on top of his own. Sadistically she kept up the backwards kiss, laughing into his cheek whenever she squeezed a particularly embarrassing noise out of him.
But she eventually got tired of even this, again slipping into the bed and out of sight, leaving Brett to cool off before her next assault on his nerves.
She sprung out of the bed like a dolphin, hovering above him in the air, a smirk playing across her lips. She swayed from side to side, swinging her boobs like pendulums.
“Alright, I can’t take the teasing any more. Time for the real fun part.” She swung around to place her spread pussy lips above him and descended.
Her pussy was in his face, and her face was all around his cock. He didn’t need a cue to reciprocate. He dove right into her lower lips. Inside was curious, the texture of her ecto-pussy was comparable to a citrus, and it didn’t really have much of a taste.
He savored the feeling of it clenching around him as he ate her out. The way she hitched around his cock when he hit the right spot. Her ghostly moans reverberated off the walls like they were in a tunnel. Brett’s tongue lashed her inner walls with gusto. She gulped down his cock, causing him to swallow her own juices in surprise.
Slurping, muffled moans, and the scent of something warm surrounded the sensation of ghostly throat muscles squeezing his cock. Pressure began to build at his base. Brett did his best to hold it back, not wanting it to end so quick, as if he would wake up from this dream if he came. But it kept rising.
Brett moaned and erupted into her throat. He mashed his face into her pussy hard enough to make her cum, too.
Hannah gave a few final gulps and then came up with a wet pop. They both collapsed into the bed huffing and puffing. He throbbed into the warm air.
And then there two giant globs of ectoplasm were being ground into his dick. Brett twitched. She didn’t give his erection the chance to recede. She cradled the flame of his arousal within her cleavage like it was the only thing tethering her to the material plane.
“It sounded like you were being shocked when you came,” she chuckled, “Now I know why they use the word electric in porn,”
Brett heaved for breath and savored the feeling of his afterglow between her boobs. Hannah just waited for him to recover his stamina. Clearly, that wasn’t a problem for ghosts. Lucky Hannah.
After a minute or two he felt he was ready for round two. He started it by thrusting into her boobs, but whining when they came off his cock.
Then her face was in his and they locked in a kiss. She slammed her lower half on his cock and jimmied it around until he was thrusting in her pussy properly. Instead of bottoming out, it would out the other side between her asscheeks, and she would squeeze around it.
Her slit’s unique texture, and the simultaneous rimjob and vaginal stirred him to beastly fervor, growling in effort to go as fast and hard as he could. She transcended tightness, being at once inside and outside of him, at once the slick ease of a loose hole and the forcible stimulation of a tight hole. Her ectoplasmic manifestation was superior to any woman he could imagine. Maybe she had risen as a succubus. Maybe he was being tricked.
It worked wonderfully. She had him under her spell.
The sound of their sloppy rutting could probably be heard from the parking lot. The floorboards under the bed squeaked like dog toys. If he had the capacity to he’d worry about them giving way, but all that was on his mind was the sensations of fucking Hannah like a sex doll. If she was still flesh and blood she’d probably have been shaken to death by the intensity, but in her ghostly form there were no worries of breaking her tiny body. All he cared for was to drive up the pitch and volume of her moans.
Hannah wasn’t moving any longer. She was paralyzed by pleasure, her long, snakelike ghost body draped over him and holding on to his neck by her fangs. They charged full steam ahead to a rapidly approaching orgasm. Nothing was held back.
Wait, they were moving. They were moving upwards. He was fucking her so hard that she was complelled to float upwards in sync with the climax rising in them.
“Whu-OH!” Brett yelped as she reversed the position so that he was thrusting down into her as they rose. She panted harder into his shoulder. Bit harder, blood welling around spectral fangs.
“OooooooOOH!~” She moaned in ecstasy, “I”M GONNA CUM!”
Brett buried himself in her as they both came. She dropped back onto the bed, him landing on top of her with his cock sheathed fully in her. Her orgasm milked him tight, her walls pleasuring him both outside and inside. He collapsed off her, drained, fighting for breath. Hannah laid with her arms splayed out on his bed.
“Yesss,” She hissed, “Consider yourself haunted” she yawned, “Fuck, I’m too tired to be mad it didn’t banish me. I’m just going sleep here tonight.” She sank into the sheets, but the cum he’d just blasted in her soaked them. She swore and rose back up, thankfully taking the cum in the air with her, and floated to the bathroom.
Brett shivered and put his discarded clothes back on. Sleep wasn’t waiting for his consent to claim him. He yawned and drew the covers around him and got snug. He didn’t even wait for Hannah to come back to fall asleep. It was an exhausting night, but he did wake up with Hannah in bed with him next morning.
He never finished his book.