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Archive name: seance.txt (MF, fant)
Authors name: Captain Tom (Address withheld)
Story title : THE SEANCE

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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1996. 
Please do not remove the author information or make 
any changes to this story. You may post freely to 
non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of 
commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
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Being of the male species, I'm rather skeptical about 
palm readers and the such, but sometimes it's more 
politic to keep ones opinions to ones self as I did 
that evening...

After dinner the clamor for a seance renewed, and of 
course in the end--after the usual mutterings from the 
Colonel about "poppycock" and "much better to have a 
good round of whist"--it was decided.

Accordingly, we cleared the drawing room and set the 
large table in the center, covered with a cloth of 
heavy purple velvet, which Lady Elma produced "to 
propitiate the spirits." Indeed, the ladies had a great 
flutter about doing it all properly--sitting around the 
table, holding hands, with our feet placed on the top 
of our neighbors' (or underneath, as the case might be) 
so as to detect any trace of at-tempted mortal 
meddling. For, as Lady Elma most properly pointed out, 
"There was no point to doing it at all unless you were 
prepared to do it seriously!"

At last we were settled, fairly widely spaced at the 
table, our legs and arms stretched out to our 
neighbors, with the candles doused and the curtains 
tightly drawn. For a few moments there were titters as 
people adjusted themselves---"I say, Harry, don't stamp 
so on my toes!"--But at last silence fell, a heavy, 
expectant silence undisturbed even by the winds 
outside.

In such an atmosphere, it is difficult to mark the 
passing of time, so it is nearly impossible for me to 
say how long we waited thus, and I suppose I had fallen 
into a sort of reverie (helped along by the wine), when 
all of a sudden I became aware of a touch against my 
leg. I held my breath--for in my near-trance I was 
almost prepared for it to be a ghost--and for a moment 
nothing happened. Then it came again--a gentle touch, 
as of a hand beginning a tentative caress upon my 
thigh. It continued--it was unmistakable--someone or 
something was stroking my thigh, and indeed if one 
could judge from appearances its intentions were far 
from innocent, for it slowly proceeded towards my 
crotch and at last began lightly stroking the fabric 
against my private parts.

For the moment I was stunned--still really unsure of 
the reality of what was happening, so suddenly had it 
begun, and also increasingly aware of the pleasure 
stealing over me from the touch. I was, furthermore, 
becoming aware that I must above all keep still, for my 
neighbors would of course detect the slightest motion 
of my limbs, and after the incident of the night before 
I was determined not to be thought the culprit again.

But scarcely had I time to caution myself thus then my 
self-control was put to the test, for I became aware of 
a hand unbuttoning my trousers, and then suddenly warm, 
soft fingers were reaching in, grasping my member, and 
drawing it, stiffening, forth. The quick touch nearly 
made me gasp--I caught myself in time, and deliberately 
set my-self to relax my limbs lest they betray me. 

By now I was far too engrossed in the possibilities 
which awaited to wonder--or care--what or who could 
possibly be touching me thus: fingers were holding me 
gently, and at last the unmistakable warmth and wetness 
of a tongue touched the eager, the trembling, the 
exquisitely sensitive tip of my cock. I shut my eyes 
against the darkness, trying to imagine what was 
happening--lips, tongue, flashing teeth, my rod slowly 
entering the welcome cavity--but suddenly the touch was 
withdrawn. My cock launched itself helplessly out into 
the blackness, into the air, feeling itself abruptly 
deserted--I held my breath once more in an agony of 
hope, and at last! I was rewarded by the delicious 
sensation once again of a tongue's caress.

It continued--it slowly welcomed more and more of my 
desperately aroused flesh into the soft friction. I 
yearned to thrust still further inward; the slow 
suspense was tantalizing torture, the more so because I 
knew I MUST NOT move, and the degrees by which the 
lips-- those glorious lips!--made their soft and 
lubricious progress first onward and then withdrawing 
backward along what felt like a yard of acutely 
tingling penis, were nearly unbearable. A centimeter 
forwards, an inch of bliss as my whole body nearly 
shuddered with the deliberateness of it--then an inch 
back--an inch of combined pleasure and tension, with 
always the fear that the touch would disappear as it 
had come.

I could feel the tongue as well, moving against the 
underside of my rod in slow circles as the lips worked 
slowly upwards, till at last! I was fully enclosed, so 
firmly and warmly held that I could al-most imagine 
myself engulfed in the wet haven of a woman's sex.

By that time my heart was pounding, and my breathing 
was in grave danger of becoming audible--I was thus 
almost grateful for the pause as this ethereal lover 
ceased to move and held me, pulsing in every limb, but 
especially in that which was so wonderfully embedded in 
the ghostly mouth. 

All was still silent in the room, and I realized that I 
had no idea at all how much time had passed--perhaps 
the others would soon become restless and--awful 
thought!--break up our circle before this mystery had 
had its way with me! Whatever it was, it seemed to have 
had the same thought, for in a moment I felt it slowly 
begin again, this time with a stronger rhythm and a 
firmness of touch which made me wonder whether the 
experience might not be over all too soon. 

And now, too, a new sensation was added: that of soft 
hands once more touching me, this time sliding over my 
now slick sex while those gentle, gentle lips still 
sucked and licked at its very tip. I felt a dangerous 
pleasure beginning to mount as the rhythm went to my 
head--my whole body was concentrated in this one 
member, consumed with the mesmerizing sensations of my 
penis, sliding, sliding effortlessly within that smooth 
grasp, until in my mind's eye I could nearly see the 
woman kneeling between my legs, the penis disappearing 
deep into her mouth and emerging, sliding past her lips 
and their pressure, her tongue and its exquisite 
friction, while her hands cradled my balls and added an 
almost distractingly delicate tickling to the already 
overwhelming pleasure. 

Then I imagined her beneath me, lying open be-fore me 
as I entered her again and again, each time feeling her 
outer lips grasp me and then her wet, warm sex give way 
before my thrust, her hips moving around the root of my 
rod and sending pleasure through my belly and bones as 
I sought to bury my entire length--nay my entire body--
within her.

The fantasy was so complete that at last I felt the 
imperative sperm surge up within me--I was in the grasp 
of a rhythm too strong to resist, and with an 
uncontrollable shudder I felt myself spurt forth the 
pent-up desires and liquids of a month's abstinence.

I think I gasped--I must have quivered--but as the 
force of my orgasm died away and I came to myself I 
recollected what had indeed been forgotten in the 
preceding ecstasy--that I was surrounded by people.

Had anyone detected my agitation? All was silent in the 
dark-ness--I waited in an agony of suspense as the 
silence drew itself out into what seemed like hours, 
and then--"I say, have we got to sit here very much 
longer?" came the cheerful voice of Harry Vane. "Yes--I 
say --it's deuced dark." "And my foot's gone to sleep!" 
chimed in Miss Pearson and Freddy Postlethwaite. A 
snore from my left announced that the Colonel was 
oblivious. The lights came up--Lady Elma, standing 
match in hand by the candelabra, asked cheerfully, "Has 
anyone detected a ghost?"

Various voices responded in the negative--I was seized 
by a sudden fear lest my trousers (as absurd though 
this is!) be unbuttoned--I contrived to examine them, 
and found them secure! What had happened? An ingenious 
ghost--a cautious ghost! Ah--a voluptuous ghost! I 
looked up and caught Lady Elma's smile as she looked at 
me, archly, and a sudden suspicion crossed my mind--

Was that a trace of moisture on her lovely lips? Or 
merely lamplight . . .

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 1