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--------------------------------------------------------
Copyright by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph@hotmail.com) 2003. 
Please don't distribute in an altered form, with 
removal of any part of the story or author credit and 
copyright info. Do not distribute it, or place it on a 
website, CDROM, or other location or publication, with 
any charges for acquisition, either to access the site 
or archive, or any other charges specifically for the 
story, without permission. 
--------------------------------------------------------

Lauren's Halloween Ghost 
by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph@hotmail.com)

Lauren has a bit of a nervous breakdown, or is it? (f-
solo, mf, oral, 1st, incubus) 

***

Author Note: This story involves sexual subject matter. 
If you aren't old enough to read this, go home! Don't 
blame me if you have problems which result from reading 
further. 

***

"That big white house on the hill is haunted," Ashley 
told Lauren. The 9th graders were telling scary 
stories, teasing each other before Halloween. 

"The one with the old oak tree?" 

"Yeah, that's the one. They burned a witch there long 
ago." 

"They don't really do that. Didn't you remember, when 
they did the Salem trials thing in history class?" 

"Well, they did something to the witch." 

"Anyway, I live there. It is a nice house." 

"Is it spooky?" 

"Dad says there is no such things as ghosts. I didn't 
even know about the story, until after we moved. I 
didn't hear about any witch, just that it was supposed 
to be haunted. But Dad knows, it is just wind or 
settling, stuff like that. Maybe because it is so new?" 

Ashley said, looking a bit spooked herself, "Isn't that 
scary? I mean, I'd be afraid if I heard strange sounds 
at night." 

"It's OK. I'm not a baby. Who's afraid of a ghost?" 
Lauren said, teasing back. She wasn't about to admit 
that there was anything to ghost stories. 

"Speaking of ghosts..." Ashley pointed at Brandon. He 
had a white sheet with him, playing a ghost like in the 
cartoons. It wasn't scary. 

"You'd make a nice match, you've got the same sort of 
hair," Ashley said. 

Light brown, blond, he had nice looking hair. And a 
nice face. 

Yeah, Lauren thought. I haven't met that many guys yet. 
I haven't even dated anyone, not like real dates. I'm 
still the new girl. Ashley was still looking at her, 
waiting for something, so she said, "He is kind of 
cute." 

"A bunch of us are getting together Halloween. You 
know, to take the little kids around. We get to wear 
our costumes, then we'll hang out a little after. Maybe 
you could hook up with Brandon then?" 

"OK, I guess." 

Ashley was a little jealous of Lauren, but she still 
liked the new girl, and was trying to help her fit in. 
Sometimes she looked like a little girl, with that 
light hair. But from the side, well, boys didn't ignore 
that sort of shape, did they? 

Except that they did. No one she knew had got around to 
asking Lauren out, and she seemed kind of strange. Shy. 
Smart, and if she didn't look pretty she'd be called a 
nerd. Well, she only wore sunglasses, not real ones, 
but she wore them all the time. But if Brandon got 
interested in a girl, maybe his friend Justin would 
too? He's even cuter. 

Boys are such a pain, Ashley thought. All they have to 
do is ask us, just ask, and we could be together. Isn't 
that what they want? 

***

When Lauren got home that afternoon, she thought about 
the ghost story. "Daddy says there is no ghost around 
her," she said aloud, seeing no one in sight. "But we 
know better, don't we?" 

The curtain moved suddenly. The window was open, so it 
was just the wind, right? Lauren thought. 

The first night in the new house, she'd screamed! The 
stuff on her dresser was sliding off, all by itself. 
Her dad and her brother Kyle teased her about it. So 
what, the dresser wasn't level. That didn't mean 
anything, it still shouldn't move on its own. 

So when Ashley asked her about the ghost, she told the 
truth. Just not the whole truth. Bad enough that her 
family thought she was crazy. Maybe some friend might 
believe her, but she wasn't sure that anyone in the new 
town was her friend yet. 

She wasn't alone in the house. It was quiet, so she 
didn't notice, but as she went upstairs to her room, 
she saw someone come out of the bathroom. 

Kyle, she thought. Damn him! 

Her younger brother annoyed her a lot. She tried to get 
along with him, but he was hitting that trouble age -- 
12! He wasn't a little kid anymore. 

So why did he walk out naked, with the towel on his 
head, not on his middle? 

He was almost thirteen, and from behind, he looked 
really nice. Lauren didn't like that reaction at all. 
So she stayed silent, watched her brother walk away, 
clueless on the effect he was having on his sister. 

She was tempted to chase him, make him turn around. She 
got just a glimpse of his front as he turned into his 
room. His thing -- his dick, it was big enough to call 
that -- barely showed, but it was... 

Well, it was nicer to look at than the pictures she'd 
seen of naked guys. She had none now, sadly -- a friend 
of hers got her some before the move, but they'd been 
lost. Probably, mom or dad noticed and tossed them out, 
then didn't say anything! 

Lauren went to her room, closed and locked the door, 
and took her clothes off. Every last thing, until she 
was naked. 

I'm not going to think about my brother, she thought. 
"But oh, I love seeing a naked boy." 

She did this sort of thing often enough. Not peeking at 
her brother, the getting naked in her room thing. Then 
she touched herself, stroking softly, neck, breasts, 
middle, pussy for a minute, down her legs as she bent 
over. 

"It's kind of like exercise," she said, to no one 
visible in her room. 

Part of her wanted to open the door, let her brother 
see her doing this. Or even better, rush to his room 
naked and see what would happen. 

But he's my brother. I wish he wasn't, he looks so 
fine. Just some nice looking boy to look at naked, even 
touch maybe. Like that Brandon. 

Lauren had kissed a boy before. It was a silly thing, 
kissing Willy -- a name that always made her laugh -- 
goodbye and letting her tongue come out. But ever since 
moving, she'd been thinking about sex. 

Well, maybe it started before that. But after the scare 
about the ghost, which no one could see, and no one 
else believed in, something changed. 

"I'm the only one who can see things anyway. So I'm 
crazy, I don't care. If I'm talking to myself, I'm 
crazy. But I'm a hot crazy chick!" she said to the 
image of herself in the mirror. 

She watched herself, pretending that the hands she saw 
touching her belonged to someone else. Stroking her 
breasts, making her nipples grow big and hard, then 
moving down. To her favorite place to touch. She 
lingered there, her fingers moving rapidly, tapping and 
rubbing, pulling, teasing herself. 

"My very own porn movie, starring me," she said to her 
self in the mirror. 

She fell asleep, naked on her bed. If there was anyone 
in her room, even at her window, he'd gotten a really 
exciting show. She'd touched herself, made herself come 
over and over. She didn't say Kyle's name, but the 
image of his naked buttocks filled her fantasies. 

***

Halloween afternoon, a chilly October day, and Lauren 
was in her room stark naked again. She'd seen Kyle 
naked, again. He'd left his door ajar, again. 

It bugged her. But if she said anything, it would let 
him, and maybe her parents, know that she'd paid 
attention to it. As if she really cared to see her 
brother naked! 

Brandon, on the other hand. Tonight would be almost 
like a date. Oh, they'd have the little kids out trick-
or-treating along, but she'd be with him, they'd talk, 
and just maybe they'd get together after. 

She lay naked, touching herself, thinking about her 
date. And her brother's naked body. 

Not about Kyle himself. Nope, just the way his butt 
looked, bare from behind. If Kyle knew, well, she 
wasn't going to risk that. He was old enough to notice 
girls, and every now and again she noticed him looking 
at her. Her breasts, mostly, especially when she was in 
her PJs. No bra, then, so they bounced easily. 

No bra now, she was naked. She liked the big mirror. 
She could see herself from the bed. 

She mauled her breasts, then her pussy. Hard touches at 
first, then gentler. Closed her eyes, lost in 
sensation, trying to, well, to get off, get past these 
confusing feelings. 

"I'll need to take a shower, now that I'm relaxed," she 
said out loud when she was done. 

The breeze picked up, flowing across her, caressing her 
wet pussy. 

"That feels nice," she said. It was almost like being 
touched. The wind just rubbed her perfectly. 

She grabbed her towel, wrapped it around her. Unlike 
her brother, she wasn't going to give anyone a free 
show. But neither did she want to cover up entirely in 
her robe. The towel barely covered her bottom, and she 
pulled it up tight enough that it was hard to say 
whether it was thighs or cheeks showing from behind. 

Kyle, though, was clueless in his room. She didn't even 
see him as she passed. Just as well, sure, but 
sometimes she wondered about him. He was so casually 
teasing her with his nudity, so why didn't he do 
anything about hers? She did this more often now, 
almost showing something. It worried her. 

But then again, she knew why. She was horny. Maybe, 
just maybe, she'd get Brandon to be her boyfriend. 
Well, not for sex, not yet. But just kissing, maybe... 

Well, maybe looking at something -- their private 
somethings -- and making out, a bit of touching in the 
right places. She was old enough for that. If he was as 
nice as he seemed at school, and he definitely looked 
hot enough, who knew what might happen? 

In the shower, she thought again about the ghost. 

It is just the wind. Dad always says stuff like that. 
Then, when I told Mom that the dishes were moving on 
the table, she looked at me like I was crazy. 

Nobody else saw it, and we were all at the dinner 
table. Just me. 

Anyway, if it is just my imagination, I love how it 
makes me feel. Hmm, invisible ghost touching me, 
playing with me, kissing me with his breath. 

The hot shower felt close, confined, the water 
caressing her body. The stream bounced on her breasts, 
tingling everywhere, catching her nipples. She leaned 
back, and it bent down to wash her sex-wet pussy. 

Was it imagination? Lauren didn't care, it felt too 
good. She was touching herself, but the water was 
cooperating perfectly. 

Back in her room, she said, out loud yet again, "How 
many times was that today?" 

Orgasms, she thought. Well, the thought was like 
someone else said it, asking. But she was alone, so it 
had to be her thinking it. 

Kyle teased her about talking to herself, but she was 
sure he hadn't said a thing to her parents about it. 
Especially, about when she talked about sex. 

Well, he is my brother, so I suppose thinking about his 
sister and sex just is too gross to consider. I think 
about his body, that isn't the same thing, Lauren 
thought. 

"Tonight, maybe, I can get someone real to touch me!" 

Brandon was probably a virgin too. It was too much to 
expect him to just sweep her off her feet with love and 
lust. Not like in her romance books. Boys, at least the 
ones in her high school classes, just weren't that 
sophisticated. 

You couldn't trust them, either. She knew all the 
stories about other girls who had sex, and as much as 
she wanted to have a boy to do it with, it wasn't worth 
that. 

It wasn't fair, not at all. She wouldn't tell anyone 
what she did with a boy. 

"I'm going to need to do it, once more. Real quick, I 
don't want to be late." 

Lauren no longer cared that she said things out loud, 
to nobody anyone could see. It was a habit, started 
three months back when she moved in here. After her Dad 
convinced her that the ghost wasn't real, she quit 
being terrified by it. Talking back to it was her way 
to cope with something exotic. 

Weird. 

Crazy. 

Strange. 

Sexy. 

Because if there was a ghost, and it was a man -- she 
thought it was, not a sexy female witch, but a handsome 
strong man -- he was seeing her naked, seeing her touch 
herself, seeing everything. 

Maybe that was what made her so horny all the time? 

She got out her black silky panties. Translucent, lacy. 
Too sexy for a girl her age. 

She was going to wear them tonight. For the very first 
time. 

No one knew she had them. Her mom never would buy 
anything like that for her. 

No one else had either. She'd swiped them, pulled them 
out of the package at the store. She felt guilty about 
that. Unlike some girls she heard about, she wasn't 
into shoplifting. It had been totally easy to do. 

First, though... 

She put her towel on, just that, and held it around her 
as she walked out of her room. 

Kyle had his door open this time, and watched her walk 
past. 

What if I dropped it as I went past? Lauren thought. 
That would serve him right, for flashing me like he 
does. 

But she didn't do it. Nor did her brother even get up, 
or do anything at all. As if she wasn't there, not 
worth noticing. 

Any other day, she'd be OK with that. She thought, I 
don't really want him to want to look at me. I really, 
totally don't want him to want to touch me. So why am I 
thinking about showing him anything? Why do I care? 

In the bathroom, she washed off her pussy. It wasn't 
much help. She didn't want to go out on a date smelling 
of wet pussy, but the dampness on the outside wasn't 
the problem. It was inside her, and she couldn't wash 
that away. She jumped in the shower, turned it on cold. 

That didn't help either. In fact, it was stimulating, 
and she turned it off, then back on warm to rinse off. 
She was feeling desperate, wanting something more than 
just her fingers touching herself. 

But she could touch herself hard enough, deep enough to 
slow it down. Not too deep -- she didn't want to break 
anything, and she was still a virgin -- but close 
enough to feel, well, almost like it was happening. She 
made it happen again, imagining actually doing it, for 
real, for the first time, while she touched the place 
where the boy would be inside her. 

Back in her room, she started to get dressed. "I like 
Brandon, but if I feel like a bitch in heat, things 
will go too far. I needed to do this, really I did." 

She shook, and her breasts bounced in the mirror. 

She picked her bra up. It wasn't sexy, unlike her 
panties. It wasn't even black. If Brandon saw her in 
it, he'd think she was just a boring non-sexy girl. 

So she put it back into her drawer. With her outfit, 
she wouldn't have to wear it anyway. 

Her black witch's robe covered her pretty well. All 
those folds hid her shape. It wasn't just a simple tied 
robe, it had lots of latches to make sure it wouldn't 
pop open. So her parents wouldn't notice, right? 

She was sure they wouldn't. 

It felt silky, soft. She pulled it tight, and then she 
could see the shape of everything. Even those nipples 
poking. With Brandon, she could do this, see if it got 
his attention, and pretend it was just the cold. Part 
of the costume, not how she was every day. 

"If I left the panties off, it would be even more 
obvious." 

The robe wasn't that long. The wind would blow it up, 
and anyone around would see everything. 

Even panties. 

Well, that was a nice idea, but it was too scary. She 
had a nice black skirt. She'd wear that, but no 
stockings. Her bare legs would be chilly, but she liked 
being touched there, and . . . 

Something touched her, by her ankle. It was sort of 
like a cat. 

She didn't have a cat. 

No one was around. This happened a few times before. It 
didn't hurt. Did it matter if a ghost touched her? Dad 
said it was just the wind, but it felt a bit more 
directed than random. 

She put her skirt on, then the panties. 

Black socks, black boots. She looked like a sexy witch. 
Now, for the last touches. 

Lipstick. 

She was going to wear black. She'd got that from 
Ashley. But the tube rolled away, onto the floor, under 
the bed, slipping from her fingers. 

If she wasn't crazy, she'd have said that something 
pulled it from her. As it was, she no longer cared why 
it happened. 

"I'd forgotten about this," she said, cringing a 
little, feeling silly about saying that word wrong. 
Especially out loud, even if there was no one to hear 
it. 

She'd found a little jewelry box in the yard, buried, 
not deep, by the old oak tree, shortly after they'd 
moved in. It was locked, rusty, and looked pretty 
junky. But there was some stuff in it which looked 
interesting, probably silver, maybe even real gold. 
She'd never told her parents about it. 

She pulled it out. Popped it open, looked in it. 

The necklace. 

It was a simple pendant. A gold star, with something 
like amber in the middle. It looked old, strange. Like 
a witch should wear. 

She put it on. 

"I am the greatest witch ever!" she said. 

Nothing happened. If there was a magic ghost around, 
shouldn't something happen? 

Well, it was fun to pretend, wasn't it? "Reality is 
overrated anyway." 

She couldn't find the lipstick, though. 

It was gone. 

She had dust bunnies under the bed. They moved around, 
wiggling. 

If she wasn't crazy, she'd have screamed. But it was 
just the wind, the house settling. Or something 
explainable. Anyway, it was nothing to be scared of. 

Not for her, anyway. 

Her parents didn't believe in them. She'd tried to show 
Kyle, but he didn't seem them. So obviously, they 
weren't real. Right? 

Anyway, she had to get dressed. Time to go! 

Hmm, there's the lipstick, on the dresser. 

OK, it wasn't the same. It was a sweeter, richer 
purple, dark but not black. It did look sexy on her. 

"Just need the silly pointed hat. I know, real witches 
didn't wear them, but I don't want to be mistaken for 
something else." 

Lauren left, excited about her first date in her new 
town. A Halloween date. 

Her favorite holiday. It should be perfect for her, 
dressed up like she was. 

***

Lauren came home late, and stormed into her room. Her 
mom was up, but she didn't even talk to her. 

"Brandon is a jerk," she said. Out loud, but softly, so 
as not to get anyone else's attention. Not outside her 
room.     

Boots off, socks off... 

Lights off, this was time for bed, and she didn't want 
her mom to check on her, wondering why she was still 
up. 

She touched the silky panties. She wore them, hoping 
that if things worked right, Brandon would fall in love 
with her on seeing them. 

"I didn't need to bother with them at all. It was a 
waste. I should have swiped a vibrator!" 

She didn't take them off, though. She ran her fingers 
on sides, over her pussy, then up underneath the cloth. 

"What happened, Lauren?" a voice asked. It was in her 
head, so Lauren answered, quietly. 

"Well, we had a boring time walking around with 
Brandon's little brother. Well, it was OK, really. But 
it wasn't that exciting. Brandon barely talked with me. 
So when we almost done, I pulled my top tight. He 
noticed that, my nipples were all hard from the cold." 

"They still look hard." 

"That's because I'm still so horny." 

Lauren talked with herself all the time. This time, 
though, the male voice in her head -- often she talked 
to a boy inside herself -- sounded different. She knew 
that some people, crazy people, heard voices. She 
didn't care, it was more fun than talking to nobody. 

Sometimes, she thought it was someone else. Someone 
real. But no one ever heard the voice, only her 
speaking. Like the stuff moving. 

Or the caressing wind. It was brushing her legs, 
flowing up both of them. Like a pair of hands, touching 
her, stroking her. 

She pushed her panties down. Down quick, all the way 
off her feet. 
This time, she was hoping for, well, something strange 
and wild. 

They'd never touched her for long, or so hard, the 
magic winds. It was always fleeting. Nice, but she 
still had to touch herself to make it into something 
real. 

It felt real now. 

They were rising, up her inner thighs. Around her 
pussy. 

She saw her pubic hair ripple, as the delightful 
invisible touch stroked her right there. Right in the 
middle. Exactly how she wanted it. 

She reached down, but there was nothing there. Nothing 
except herself, and... 

Well, if there was someone really watching, he'd seen 
this before. It excited her, imagining an invisible 
lover watch her as she touched herself, stroked 
herself. 

Made love to herself. 

She stroked her breasts through the robe, but it wasn't 
quite good enough. 

"Brandon didn't even open it. I wish it was the sort 
which just popped open, like a real robe, but no, this 
one has little velcro things to keep it in place. My 
fault, that way I could control how it opened or not, 
no worries about Mom or Dad seeing." 

Lauren thought about being touched there. Brandon did 
do that, and it was heavenly. 

"Well, not perfect. He touched me, but it was sort of 
like groping and grabbing. Why didn't he just touch me 
lightly, like this?..." 

Her hands flowed over her breasts. Her nipples we again 
hard, and each touch was thrilling. 

She imagined him touching her there, on bare skin. "Oh, 
if Brandon could see me now, see my pussy. He is really 
missing out, the jerk." 

Lauren felt so sad suddenly, tears started to flow. 

"It started so nice," she said. "Well, it was sort of 
boring, hanging around with him and his little brother. 
But at the end, I finally got his attention. I made him 
notice, he couldn't help staring at them. Then he 
kissed me." 

She stroked her breasts again, pulling on her hard 
nipples. 

"That was nice. But then, he just grabbed me. And that 
was all, it was over. I wanted to be, well, I wanted to 
be happy and like it, but I couldn't. It just didn't 
feel right." 

The invisible voice, inside her head, said, "Just 
relax, let me make you feel better. You deserve it, 
especially on this night." 

The voice was soft, almost whispering. Husky. Sensual. 

It wasn't real, or at least, it was just her thoughts. 
Funny, though, how they sounded. She thought, I can 
hear them, they are in my head, but it is like it 
really is someone else. 

It wasn't sound. 

But what about the touches? 

Something pressed lightly on her pussy, petting, 
stroking. Caressing her, exciting her. The lightest of 
contacts brushed her clit, her bare wet clit, exposed 
and ready for everything. She was so aroused, so in 
need of more. 

Lauren undid her robe, sliding it open, then off. Now 
she was totally naked. 

Touching herself. Everywhere, rubbing her arms across 
each other, down her sides, pulling on her nipples. 

Stroking her pussy. 

While something unimaginable kept touching her there, 
even when her fingers were elsewhere. 

How can I imagine being touched, and it feeling so 
real? she thought. wondering to herself. 

"It is real," the unseen voice said. 

"That's nice," Lauren answered. 

Whatever it was, it was nothing to be afraid of. She 
thought that she should be, that any normal girl would 
be terrified to have something invisible playing with 
her. Making her so . . . 

"Do it faster, please?" she said, interrupting her own 
thoughts. 

It was like nothing she'd felt before. Like kissing 
with Brandon and his playing with her tits, and every 
time she'd ever touched herself, but amplified a 
million times. It was more than mere touching, her sex 
was being handled, pulled, rubbed, and sucked in by 
something soft and shivery. Not cold, not hot, not 
hard, yet oddly alive. 

Like a breath, except that it was much stronger. Softer 
than any tongue, but touching her in the way she 
imagined that a lover's tongue would. 

Fast, hard, consuming her, driving her to a peak of 
delight. 

Her first orgasm ever which wasn't entirely due to her 
own effort. 

More than an orgasm. 

A flash of light, a spark of love, a wash of passion. 
For a few minutes, she felt this sweep over her. 
Something held her, enveloped her. Her pussy was never 
untouched, held and caressed, her clit engulfed in 
something sweetly hot, making it tingle and twist. 

Lauren lay unmoving, exhausted with passion, when the 
touch finally faded. 

"That was really something," she said when she finally 
recovered. 
"But I wish that you were real." 

"But I am real." 

"I mean, like a real person." 

"What do you mean exactly?" 

"You know, a man that I can see, and touch? I've never 
actually seen a naked man. I wish, well, I should have 
asked Brandon to show it to me. Even if I had to touch 
it, that would be OK." 

The voice said, laughing with happiness, "I can see, 
yes, you are a very good girl. You'll be a fine witch 
someday." 

"Is that what you are? I thought you were a ghost, a 
ghost of a witch? But isn't that a woman?" 

"No, men can be witches too." 

"Oh." 

Lauren thought about covering up. She'd thought of her 
invisible, almost imaginary lover as male, but if it 
was a real witch, then she'd been doing it with a girl. 
Which was just fine as long as it was a ghost, that 
surely couldn't count. She was still interested in 
boys, right? 

"I'm being silly," she said. "You've seen me naked lots 
of times. I don't mind that. Does it excite you to see 
me naked? Am I lovely?" 

"You are perfect, and very special to me." 

"I still wish that you were real." 

Lauren wasn't sure what she meant by that. Ghosts 
weren't real, everyone knew that. So even if she did 
see one, that didn't mean it was real. She was just 
crazy. Well, in need of psychiatric help, at least. But 
it felt so real, and it felt too good to ignore. 

Way too good to give up, wherever it came from. 

She shivered. This should be scary. If Ashley were 
around, she'd be screaming like a girl in a horror 
movie. Even Kyle would freak out. 

Well, maybe not. A ghostly blow job would probably be 
good for him. But he probably would just chill up and 
die, frightened to death. He doesn't think this sort of 
thing can be real. He didn't even see it when the stuff 
moved on my dresser, and he was looking right at it. 

The voice spoke to her. It was a little deeper, a 
little louder. It still excited her, but it felt 
somehow more real to her. Still not sound, but more 
substantial. 

"Lauren, I can't yet make myself alive, really there 
physically. But I think that if you try, you could help 
me, make it so that you could see me. I think you'd 
like that." 

"Are you naked?" Lauren asked. Ghosts seemed to wear 
sheets or old clothing in movies, but if he was going 
to show up as her lover, she wanted to see him naked. 

She imagined someone sort of like Brandon, sexy and 
blonde and kind of built. She avoided thinking of Kyle, 
because while she hoped that he'd look at least as 
nice, it bothered her to think of her brother, naked, 
as a model for her lover. 

Lover? 

"Are you my lover?" 

"I will be what you need me to be," the voice said. 
"Tonight, you need someone to make you feel better. I 
love you, and I'll be what you need. This is such a 
special night, you know about that?" 

"Yes. I mean, on this night, the dead can come back. 
Even if it is just for one night." 

"I knew that you were the one. That is why I picked 
you." The voice sounded extremely pleased. 

"Why me?" Lauren asked. 

She shivered again. It was strange. It felt unreal. Not 
like a dream, but not like it was real life either. To 
call it magical would be obvious, and inexact. Palpable 
anticipation, she thought. 

Because she didn't care if it was real or not. In fact, 
dream, fantasy, or delusion, it looked like she was 
about to get her deepest wish fulfilled. A dreamy 
lover, a lover from a dream, a guy who would sweep her 
off her feet -- she was laying down but she still 
didn't feel like getting up, and that was just from a 
light invisible, insubstantial ghostly touch. What 
would a substantial, naked handsome boy ghost do for 
her? 

"You feel it. You can see and feel me, and it doesn't 
hurt you. You feel my desire. You know your own. Few 
people can do that. I've waited so very long for 
someone who could be here with me. So many lonely 
Halloween nights, with no one at all, or those who ran 
in terror rather than embracing me." 

Lauren said, "I barely touched you. You're the one who 
held me." 

"You want to touch me?" 

"Yes, more than anything. I want to see you and touch 
you, and make love with you." 

Lauren sat up, her breasts jiggling. She wondered if he 
was turned on, looking at her naked. 

"I love seeing you. I hope you don't mind?" 

She wondered how much the ghost knew, did it feel her 
thoughts? That idea was exciting too, showing off her 
insides as well as outsides. 

"No, I like showing off. I'd do it for others, even 
Kyle, if he wouldn't be a jerk about it. I wanted, 
well, you know, to show Brandon it. My pussy, 
everything. My sexy panties. Were they nice?" 

"If I was a boy again, I'd adore you for wearing them 
for me. You looked so tasty." 

"I wish you could kiss me." 

The voice said, "Touch yourself, imagine me. Wish for 
me to be with you. I want you, I need you to want me, 
to want me to be with you." 

"That isn't too hard," Lauren said. 

"No," the voice said. "Not for you. You are the one, 
you can do it for me." 

This time, nothing unseen touched her. She wished for 
that touch, wished for him to be with her, on her bed, 
touching her, holding her. Making love to her. 

He cares for me, she thought. It isn't just lust. He 
touched me to make me feel better, and boy did he ever 
make me feel better. Better than anything! 

Like touching someone else, that was a new thing. She 
shivered, felt her hands move against her body, but the 
pleasure was somehow drained away. No, drawn away. Like 
making love to another girl, touching her, even though 
it was her own body. 

It felt weird, and she tried harder to make it feel 
real again. 

I should stop, I should run. This isn't supposed to be, 
this isn't normal. 

But she thought this and stayed, kept on going. 

Imagining a boy, a real boy, a lover. No, a man. How 
old was he anyway? 

Something touched her. It was dark, but there was an 
even darker shadow across her bed. 

"Please," she said, "come to me. I want you to be here 
with me, I want to feel you. I want to see you." 

"You can do it," the voice said. "Don't stop, you're 
doing it." 

The voice drifted out of her. It wasn't in her head, 
but it wasn't exactly like real. Not sound, anyway. 

She closed her eyes, and felt herself again. Her touch 
was doing it, making him come. 

Making her come. 

"Unreal!" she screamed, as an orgasm exploded somewhere 
outside her body. The sensation flooded back into her, 
filling her with life and pleasure. 

It was her second best orgasm ever, and the best she'd 
ever done entirely to herself. She wasn't sure that it 
counted as being entirely on her own, because of the 
spirit and magic thing going on, but whatever it was, 
it was very good. 

"This is wonderful," Lauren said. 

"You're wonderful," the voice said. This time, it was 
clearly in the room, and almost like real sound -- it 
sounded like a real man. Or boy. 

Lauren opened her eyes. There was someone there, in the 
room, by her bed. 

But it was dark. 

"I wish I could see you better." 

"Turn on the light." 

"Doesn't that make ghosts disappear?" 

"No, silly. That is just in movies. Not even all of 
them, remember?" 

"Oh." 

Lauren moved to get up out of the bed, but felt 
something press on her chest. 

"Stop! You can turn on the light without getting up." 

"How? I mean, I can? I mean, I don't know what I mean." 
Lauren said, giggling at the end. 

"Think about it, move the switch, wish for it to 
happen." 

"I suppose, I guess I can try that." 

In a dream, things would happen easily, just how she 
wanted. It felt like she could do anything, be 
anything. 

Nothing happened. 

"You can do it, just relax, believe, concentrate." 

She felt a hand - his hand -- on her breast. Holding 
it, covering one nipple. His hand was cool and soft, 
not warm. It wasn't cold, it just didn't feel quite 
like a real boy. 

But it felt nice, really nice. 

Lauren thought of the switch, how she walked to it to 
turn on the light. It just moved, not hard, you didn't 
have to push hard at all to make it go on. 

On. 

Lights on! 

The lights were ON! Lauren's surprise at the impossible 
magic was pushed aside by the nicer surprise of seeing 
her lover, actually seeing him by her bed. 

"You don't look like I imagined you," Lauren said, 
surprised. He was nice looking, in a boyish sort of 
way. But unlike Brandon, his hair was curled, and his 
eyes were dark. He was naked, though, and she let her 
eyes fall down on his penis. 

Dick. A hard one. Very nice to look at. All of him was. 
But he was no one she'd seen or imagined before. 

"Lauren," he said, "that is because I'm not imaginary." 

Hearing that gave Lauren goose bumps, a chilly feeling 
passing through her. It was exciting, but a little 
frightening. Because if it was real, then . . . 

In a dream, sometimes you realize that you're dreaming, 
she thought. 
But this is so strange. 

"I don't care, I'm not afraid," Lauren said. It was 
exciting, letting her fear spur her arousal higher. If 
it was real, it was beyond anything she'd imagined yet, 
and if it was imaginary, well, it still was better than 
any of her fantasies. 

She reached to touch him, felt his chest. 

"It's so smooth, soft. It is, ah, I mean . . . " 

"I'm not material, even though you can see and touch 
me. But you wanted to see me, so I did what I could." 

She felt his skin, it was silky soft and cool, a 
shivery kind of feeling. Not cold, it wasn't the 
temperature -- that felt just fine to her. But nothing 
like touching a live person would be. 

But to look at, damn, she thought, he does look fine. 
She took her eyes off his lower half, there would be 
plenty of time to look at that again later. 

He was nice looking, but to her surprise, he wasn't 
anything like a Greek statue, no Adonis in her bedroom, 
not even a pop star from TV. But he was in her room, 
naked, smiling, with sparkling dark eyes. 

And he was hers. She was sure of that part. She'd 
wished for a boy, one to treat her nice, and now she 
was going to get her wish. 

It was still scary, but not in a spooky way. It made 
her nervous, but the idea of doing it, of really truly 
having it happen, was exciting. 

Doing it with a ghost is kind of like doing it with a 
figment of my imagination, Lauren thought. No 
consequences, no worries about my parents liking him or 
finding out. And he is just so nice, so sweet, so 
delightfully sexy, I couldn't wish for a better first 
time. 

"You're not material, does that mean you're ethereal?" 
Lauren asked. 
Then she giggled. 

"What's so funny?" he asked. 

"We're living in a material world, and you're an 
ethereal boy," Lauren sang. "I think Madonna would get 
a kick out of this situation." 

He laughed. It was a soft, sexy, deep laugh, and 
sounded strange coming from a young man. 

How old was he? She thought about asking, but part of 
her didn't want more conversation. He looked older than 
her, but not really old. Grown up, but more like a 
college boy than someone really old, just more mature 
than her classmates. 

Lauren resumed touching him, exploring. She let her 
hands roam downward. He looked aroused, excited, and 
she wondered what it would be like to touch it. 

"Is this OK?" she asked, as she shyly ran her fingers 
along his hard shaft. 

"That is just fine," he answered. 

It felt odd, like his chest. It looked right, but 
touching it brought to mind the vibrator she'd seen, 
but not taken from the store. It wasn't like plastic, 
but neither was it like flesh. It didn't feel like her 
own skin. 

But it looked right, and it was his, and seeing her 
hands around her first real one was wonderful. 

"Could you, you know, do it with me? I mean, because 
you're not exactly material?" Lauren asked. 

"I can make love to you, in a way that no one else can. 
I want to, I know it will make you feel better. 
Tonight, it will make you feel better than you can 
possibly imagine." 

"Do it!" 

Lauren lay back. Touching him was OK, but she sensed 
something disturbing about it. She was afraid to ask, 
but she didn't want to ruin the moment. It was as 
though he could look aroused, but he couldn't feel it. 
Like how ghosts might eat a meal, but never taste it. 
That was so sad, if it was true. She could give Brandon 
a blow job, and he'd enjoy it, but he never touched her 
like this boy did. 

He wanted to do it with her, to make love to her just 
to please her. She was sure that she'd do that for 
someone she loved, even if she could feel nothing 
herself. That meant that he, her mysterious, almost 
imaginary lover, truly did love her. 

His hands stroked her sides, brushing their way up and 
down, slowly drifting upward. 

"Can you kiss me?" Lauren asked. 

He bent over her, and she felt his lips touch hers. 

No taste. He had no flavor at all. Touch, the sensation 
was like brushing your lips on velvet, static charged 
sparks flying off. Like having a balloon pop, 
surprising her, right before she was about to come. 

It was her best kiss ever, and then, she felt his body 
covering hers. 
She reached up to hold them, as the kissed and caressed 
each other. 

Touches and kisses, he had a magical touch. The feeling 
down below, his hardness touching her soft wetness, was 
driving her wild. Would he just do it, push, make it 
happen? She wanted it, it would be just fine for it to 
all happen now. 

Over in a flash. 

If it hurt, it was better if it happened that way. 

She waited. 

He moved his kissed downward. On her neck, her 
shoulders, and up to her . . . 

"Wow!" she said, as he kissed her breasts, sucking on 
her nipples. 
She was panting, literally panting with desire. 

It was too much, too good. He was slow, and sweet, and 
every touch, everywhere, was delight. 

Downward, kisses touching, fingers roaming. 

He hadn't brushed her pussy at all. 

When he crossed her navel with kisses, she arched up, 
willing him to move faster. It was wonderful, but 
almost too intense to bear. 

His hands caressed her legs, brushing just shy of her 
pussy. Closer, they were getting closer, as his lips 
approached from above. 

I could just die, she thought, as his lips and fingers 
made contact, right in the center of her pussy. 

She wrapped her legs around him, over him, squeezing. 
He let her, loving her pussy and driving her to the 
peak of pleasure. 

It was the best orgasm ever, and she lost track of, 
well, everything. 

He didn't abandon her, he kept on doing it, touching, 
licking, kissing, pressing. Holding her in a wave of 
desire, sucking on her pussy lips, her clitoris, 
lapping at her vagina. 

Even nibbling her thighs and pubes. 

Then, he nibbled upwards, leaving her pussy untouched 
for a while. Until his body touched it, his leg, then 
as he reached her face once again to kiss her lips, his 
hard, lovely, silky dick. 

On her pussy. 

Almost in it. 

Her legs were wide, her feet holding onto him. Surely 
he knew, she was ready to really do it. 

But he didn't. Do it, she thought that he knew, but for 
some reason, he didn't act. 

He waited, just kissing her, holding himself right at 
her entrance. 

She turned her head, just long enough to say, "It's OK, 
I want it, please do it." 

"You're a virgin." 

"I don't care. I won't be forever, so just do it. 
Please, I need it. 
You said you'd do anything to please me." 

She thought it would hurt. She braced herself, 
anticipating that. He was so perfect, so magical, that 
it would be everything she ever hoped for her very 
first time. That is, exciting and pleasurable, worth 
the pain. 

Instead, it was as if there was no barrier at all. He 
slid inside her. She felt her vagina fill, penetrated 
by something. It felt good, but somehow, she knew, her 
body knew. 

It wasn't like having a real, live boy do it. 

In, it felt so good going in. 

Out, it was like little buzzing lightning bugs sliding 
around on her pussy. 

His body, his ethereal body, felt lighter, softer, 
while he did it with her. Making love with her, fucking 
her. 

Somehow, it was more than just inside her pussy. It was 
like something was flowing over her, a blanket of sex, 
desire, passion, touching her entire body. 

It felt so perfect, so wonderful, so loving. 

She didn't remember it ending. It had to have, didn't 
it? But it was as though she and he came together, 
making love, an endless love, culminating in a mind-
blowing, dream-making orgasm. They both went off 
together, then fell asleep in each others arms. 

***

Lauren opened her eyes, disoriented, feeling very 
strange. 

The room light was on, but it no longer brightened the 
room much. The sun was up. 

She was under the sheets, curled up. She felt oddly 
sticky, sweaty. 
As if she'd been working out really hard. 

Naked. 

She'd slept naked. 

She remembered, what happened Halloween night. First 
with her date with Brandon. Then afterwards. 

In the light of day, she wondered. 

She touched herself. She felt sensitive and sore, as if 
someone had been touching and rubbing her all night 
long. Sticky, wet between her legs, inside and out. 

Well, she'd done that sometimes, made herself, and the 
bed, wet by her own touches. Not like this, she didn't 
think she'd ever gone so far with it. But last night 
was exceptional. 

Real? 

It was dreamy, like a dream, but it sure felt like it 
could be real. 
In daylight, it is hard to believe in ghosts, but... 

She touched herself, rubbed her pussy. She ran her 
fingers around her vagina. It was damp, still damp. Or 
maybe it was just her morning horniness. 

To just push a finger inside, or two. A simple thing, 
she did it often enough. But this time, it would answer 
something important. Because she knew, if it was real, 
if she'd really done it like she dreamed, there would 
be a difference. 

Two fingers, then three. She felt resistance, they 
couldn't make it inside. 

She relaxed. 

Maybe it wasn't only a dream, though? It was very 
strange. 

"What if Brandon, or someone, spiked that candy? Or the 
soda? Or something?" 

She'd never done drugs, so didn't know if that could do 
something like this. But she was pretty sure, as sure 
as she could be, that she hadn't actually gone off 
foolishly and done it with Brandon. 

As it was, she'd have to worry that he'd go off telling 
everyone about touching her titties. Why boys didn't 
call them breasts, sweet breasts to suckle and love, 
she didn't know. 

He did touch them, though. It was OK. Maybe next time, 
if she dared try a next time with him, she'd tell him 
not to touch so hard. 

"I better get a shower, though. Otherwise, Mom might 
wonder if I actually did do something with that boy 
last night." 

In the shower, Lauren thought about her dream lover. No 
real boy would be so good. That dream would fuel her 
fantasies for days, maybe years. Maybe more. Just 
thinking about it made her excited, and she touched 
herself, enjoying the flow of the water assisting her. 

It was, that water, truly, behaving nicely for her. The 
flow, random and pulsing, wandered around. In a new 
house, it wasn't supposed to be uneven, but she'd never 
minded it. What if it was acting by design, not 
randomly at all? she wondered. 

She shook with pleasure, unable to think more, as her 
fingers and the water spray stimulated her. It split 
apart, bouncing spray on her breasts, her neck, and 
best of all, a lovely stream pulsing on her clit, 
bringing her a marvelous, breathtaking standing orgasm. 
She had to sit, to recover from the pleasure. The water 
spray widened, soft and gentle, as she relaxed. 

It didn't matter, she thought. It has done this all the 
time we've been here, and I'm just lucky that it acts 
like that. Just chance, just like the wind blowing the 
right way to touch me nicely. 

Lauren got out of the shower, drying off. She'd been in 
long enough to make it all foggy, the mirror covered in 
mist. 

"Too bad it was all a dream, I wouldn't mind doing it 
again like last night." 

Then she noticed it. 

On the mirror. 

The door was locked, wasn't it? 

Check. Yes, it looks looked. Maybe someone could have 
opened it anyway? 

Kyle! Lauren thought in anger. But how would he know? 

In the mist on the mirror, drawn on it... 

Freshly drawn. As if someone had just run their finger 
across the glass. 

She read it, softly, out loud. 

"Lauren, it wasn't a dream." 

***

If you liked this story, want to put it in a free 
collection, want to tell me how I could write better, 
or just would like to say hello, write to me at my 
email address shown above. 

You can find more of my stories and other things at my 
website: 

http://www.asstr.org/~jeffzephyr/ 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 59