My every nerve ending sizzled as if on fire. The pleasure was so intense that I gasped for air, hardly able to bear it. He pressed by body into the sweaty sheets as he thrust into me, faster and faster, with the sure ease of familiarity.
I was in a daze, he always did this to me, I couldn't control my emotions even if I tried, his body was overpowering, his sexual talents were masterful. All I could do was respond to his need and that response turned me into his willing whore... night after night. I would do anything to have him, to keep this lovemaking in motion for as long as possible. He was a god, my love god.
A moan escaped my parched lips as I felt my lover's body tense. I knew it would not be long now, I knew that he was on the knife edged precipice of orgasm. I couldn't wait for him, my body responded to his without my consent. I bucked against him, grabbing tight, holding him in me and groaning loudly as my mind went blank and my body and mind exploded beneath him.
** Two Months earlier:
It had been like this every night for the past two months. The first night that it had happened, I was lying in my bed sound asleep after an emotionally draining day. Then suddenly a man was climbing on top of me. He fumbled with my nightgown, pulling it away from my lower body.
That moment is burned into my brain. Those first few flashes of total and complete fear, my skin crawling and my breath catching in my throat. I was paralyzed with fear and horror, my mind wouldn't accept what was happening to me as the stranger forced my knees apart with his and then fumbled again as he pushed his hot erect shaft against me and then in one violent thrust, into me.
In that instant of fullness, as he thrust into me, I knew who the man was. I knew who was shoving me down into the mattress with each powerful thrust, taking my breath away. As my body began to respond, I cried out in passion and relief! I loved my attacker and would give myself to him any way he wanted.
I can still remember that first time; the wonderful feeling of comfort and love as he thrust into me again and again, making those little grunting pleasure sounds; sounds that I thought I would never hear again.
We made love in one long all-night session. He held me down and fucked me like a madman, staring into my eyes as he used my body for his pleasure. When he'd cum in an intense satisfied way, it would be my turn to climb on top of him and use him like he had just done to me. I milked him, cooling my heat, making him mine, holding him down with the my palms of my hands on his chest, finding just the right spots as I expertly maneuvered his manhood deep within me, riding him in just the right way to bring myself to a glorious orgasm, over and over again!
"Oh god Karen, I'm cumming," he whispered into my ear, breathlessly.
I held him tight as he thrust one last time and ground himself against me, filling me with his pleasure, his body jerking again and again, his heart pounding in his chest. All the while, making his little grunting sounds as he shoved deep into me and held... I wanted to keep him in me forever, just like that.
We lay there for a long time, listening to each other's heated breathing, but eventually, he pulled out of me, leaving me with an intense feeling of abandonment and disappointment. We had suddenly becoming two, when only moments before we were one. I clung to him for a moment longer, trying to stop him from pulling out me, but he was strong and just like every night before I felt him softening and then pulling out of my body.
I woke to the sound of birds singing and early morning light streaming in through my bedroom blinds. I knew what I would find, because it had been the same for the past two months. Slowly sitting up in bed, I could see my reflection in the mirrored closet doors across the room from me. What I saw was a women of almost 30, in a rumpled bed with the sheets tangled around her limbs and no one else in the room.
There was the usual feeling of loss and fear of insanity and depression. All of these emotions came crashing down on me each morning when I realized that Jack had not really been there. That it had all been a dream. Intellectually I knew what had been happening every night wasn't real, it was just that... it 'seemed' so real.
The first night that it happened, had been a week after Jack died. Of course, we hadn't made love for the last 6 months of his life, he was just too sick. That first night I just chalked my dream up to a vivid imagination and my sadness mixed with guilt at having finally lost my husband and lover to cancer.
But then came the next night and the sex was even more intense. No matter how hard I tried, I never seemed to be able to tell what time it was when Jack came to me, or even were we were. It was as if we were in another world and the only thing of importance was that we were together, making love to each other without a care in the world. Just like it used to, just like in our College days, when we had first met.
After the first couple of weeks, I accepted the dreams. I actually looked forward to them when I went to bed at night. I knew they were just very vivid dreams, more vivid that real life seemed to be. But the one thing I couldn't understand was the state of my body every morning. I always woke up feeling like I'd just been royally fucked, just like back in our College days. Only now it was every night without fail.
With a quiet groan I climbed out of bed. Whether I liked it or not, I had to start the day. My daughter Deidre would be awake soon and there was breakfast to make and she needed to be off to school on time.
As I stood, I felt momentarily sick. Running to the bathroom I just barely made it to the toilet before I vomited up my dinner from the night before. Then leaning over the toilet bowl with my hands on the seat and my face over the hole I retched again even though I had nothing else to expel. After several more minutes I finally straitened up to look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes widened as I realized that the nausea I was feeling was just like the morning sickness I'd experienced when I was pregnant with Deidre.
I mentally shook myself to clear the fuzziness from my brain and almost laughed at the absurdness of that thought. It would have been funny if I hadn't felt so wretched. I knew I couldn't be pregnant, I hadn't been with a man in over half a year and my dreams certainly wouldn't count.
Then the thought crossed my mind that I might be sick. Really sick. After all, when you've spent a year with a gravely ill husband and the last half of that year knowing that it was only a matter of time before he would be dead, well, it makes you extra sensitive to disease and illness. I was now solely responsible for our daughter and I wasn't going to let things wait like Jack had.
After getting Deidre breakfast and bundling her off to school, I called our family doctor and was lucky enough to get an appointment that very morning. But that was were my luck stopped. I know what I am about to say is just plain impossible, but after a complete examination, my doctor assured me that I wasn't sick. He insisted that I was approximately 8 weeks pregnant.
I didn't know what to say, how could I tell this man that Jack was too sick to make love to me and had been for over 6 months prior to his death. If I said anything like that, the doctor would assume that I had cheated on my husband. What else would anyone think?
I went straight home and sat down on the bed, the bed were I was experiencing vivid dreams of making passionate love to my "dead" husband. It really did seem real to me, but that was impossible. I sat on that bed for the rest of the day, running everything through my mind, again and again, trying to figure out what had happened to me. What 'was' happening to me?
Weird scenarios began running through my head. Maybe someone had drugged me and had sex with me over and over again, and I'd just "thought" it had been Jack. I couldn't believe that, but I also couldn't believe that Jack's ghost had made me pregnant either.
That's when I decided to try an experiment. That very night. It would be better than doing nothing and much better than questioning my sanity.
I would set up Jack's video recorder with the extended timer that I would be set to go off every ten minutes for three minutes, all through the night. That way the camera would have enough memory to last all night and if my dreams were anything to go by, our lovemaking sessions were much longer than 10 minutes. So if something was happening, then it would be caught on video.
The last thing I did that night was set the video camera up on the highboy across the room from the foot of my bed. I turned it on the time delay setting and then went to bed.
It took what seemed like forever to go to sleep. I was so wound up, so tense, but finally the strain of the day took over and my mind drifted... I know this because sometime during the night Jack came to me again and climbed into bed with me.
I felt the bed jiggle and tried to sit up. I wanted to ask him what was happening; I wanted him to tell me that I wasn't going crazy. But then he held me close, pulling me up against his warm naked body, spooning me from behind. I could feel his hot masculine weapon hardening against my rump and suddenly I was no longer worried about who he was or that I was pregnant and couldn't explain why.
I reached behind my back and gripped his hot smooth tool and slowly began to pull the tight yet yielding skin around his large shaft, up and down in time with his breathing, making him moan softly. I felt one of his hands snake around my waist and up to a nipple and he gently pinched it, then rubbed it between thumb and forefinger.
That's all it took, I quickly swung around and pushed Jack onto his back then eagerly climbed on top of him. My whole body was quivering with anticipation as I rose up and pressed his magnificent erection against my moist slit. I needed him so badly, it was almost impossible to imagine anything else other than sex with Jack, morning noon and night, nothing else mattered, just Jack and our lovemaking sessions.
I almost screamed out as I slid down on to his pulsing manhood. I think I could feel every little nodule and vein along his shaft as it sank home in me. It was the most exquisite feeling I'd ever experienced. I could tell that this night was going to be a perfect.
Then the rhythm began. Jack fucked me as hard as I fucked him. There was nothing else you could call what we did to each other for the next half hour. Sweat was poured down my neck and where our bodies met it felt like we were in a sauna. I had never been wetter in my life and he had never felt better inside me before.
Our passion just kept rising, yet neither of us orgasmed. We smiled at each other, looking deeply into each other's eyes as our rhythm picked up to an impossible speed, it seemed like we were performing some kind of erotic dance as I road him like a cowgirl would a bucking house at a rodeo.
After what seemed like a pleasurable eternity, I gasped and he began to make his little grunting noises, my body tensed as my orgasm over took me, forming a tight band of numbness around the top of my head, gripping my brain, as my body took over and humped jerkily, over and over again, in the most perfect multiple orgasm of my life.
Finally I fell down onto Jack's heaving chest and as my senses slowly returned I realized than he had cum too, and that he was reveling in the sweet afterglow of our lovemaking, just as I was. We hugged and that's the last thing I remember until I woke to the ever present early morning light, streaming through the bedroom blinds.
I opened my eyes to greet the day. I felt totally sated, absolutely wonderful. I don't think I'd felt that good in my life, well... maybe back when I was a child waking up on a Saturday morning with the whole weekend before me. It was that kind of carefree feeling that I luxuriated in.
Then I remembered the camera and I sat up with a start. I saw that the record light was still red, so that meant that it had been working all night, turning on for three minutes very ten. My heart began to pump my blood through my veins at a furious rate.
Did I really want to know the truth? I'd had the best night of lovemaking in my life last night. But then, all kinds of thoughts invaded my mind. What if it was some strange guy drugging me and using me every night? What if it was someone I knew doing this to me? What if I was going mad? I couldn't continue to live in this dream world, not knowing. So I bucked up my courage and climbed out of bed and put on my robe.
It was early still and I didn't have to wake Deidre for another hour. Now was as good a time as any to see what had actually happened last night. So I took the camera down from the highboy and went into the kitchen and made some morning tea. While the water was heating I plugged the camera's transformer into the wall socket and turned it on again.
Flipped open the side mount preview screen; I watched the little screen as it flickered into life. The camera had been well positioned because I could see the whole bed, almost like it was a stage setting. 'A sex scene setting,' I thought to myself.
I saw myself looking into the lens and then walking away from the camera. Then I saw myself looking back at the camera critically as I checked to see that it was centered. Then I watched myself climb into bed and pull the covers up around my chin.
Then nothing. Just me lying there.
Every once in a while the screen would go dark for a second and then flash on again. That was the interval setting turning it on and off during the night. From time to time I would be in a different position when the screen flashed back on. At first that startled me, but then I remembered that the second break had really been ten minutes.
The time on the screen moved forward to one o'clock and still nothing. I started to fast forward, becoming impatient. I was beginning to think that I really was crazy and that this whole thing was only in my mind. But then how... why... had the doctor told me I was eight weeks pregnant? It just didn't make since to me, none of it did.
Then around three o'clock a flash of movement! I stopped the camera and then turned it on to normal run time mode. I sat there wide-eyed as I saw myself sit up in bed and then a shiver went down my spine as the sheet moved as if someone invisible had pulled it away from my body.
I looked into my face on the little screen and saw an expression that I couldn't complete define. I looked happy, but I also looked aroused, totally consumed might be a better description.
Then I was looking at my naked back and I was on my knees as if climbing onto someone, but no one was there. Only then did I realize when this was taking place, it was when I had pushed Jack down onto the bed and climbed on top of him, I was watching my dream take place on camera.
My body began to move faster and faster as I rode my invisible lover. I was pushing down in front of me with my hands as I humped the empty bed. I was shocked at the sight of myself 'pretending' to have sex with someone that wasn't there. But I could also hear the moans I was making, moans of extreme pleasure, moans of unbridled lust and pleasure.
It truly did look like some kind of erotic dance, my body swayed and moved just as if I was riding a man's body, it was almost uncanny, it looked real except that I was the only one on the screen. I sat there mesmerized and watched.
What was even stranger still, I was reliving those moments, I was as wet, ready for sex now, as I had been then, my blood was surging through my veins like it had last night and I needed Jack more than I ever had in life. That's when I jumped. "What!?"
A hand came around from behind and cupped a breast, a firm warm body pushed up against mine. A gentle squeeze through my robe and I was on fire, just like last night. It was just after dawn now and light enough to see who was with me, but I couldn't really see him. I saw parts of him; everything seemed to swirl around me.
Then we were on the floor of the kitchen. I was naked on top of my robe and Jack was opening my legs with his knee, gently, slowly, lovingly. When he pushed his maleness, his wonderful hot firm prick deep into me, I gasped out loud and hugged him tight.
Then we were at each other as if starved for one another's bodies, thrusting and groaning and feeling each other doing things, wonderful things, as if we were children in paradise. I sucked his lips, his ear lobes and he rolled me back and forth as he rutted in me like a wild animal. It went on and on like that for... I don't know how long. Then his body shivered and he blasted his hot seed deep in me, making his little satisfied grunting sounds and I bit my lip to keep from screaming as my body tensed against his and I orgasmed myself into unconsciousness...
It was embarrassing when Deidre found me naked, laying on top of my bath robe in the middle of the kitchen. But she was a child and I was able to explain it away by saying that I must have fainted. If she had been older I would have had a hard time explaining the viscous fluid oozing from my swollen pussy lips.
I had a beautiful son seven months later and he looked just like Jack.
I guess there is really no reason to recount the countless nights that Jack came to my bed over the years that followed. Even when I remarried he still came to me and the remaining two children I've had over the past decade were the spitting image of Jack with a dash of me in them. I never told anyone about my Jack before, especially not my second husband.
I've learned one enduring fact over the years since Jack's passing, and that is that sometimes a love is so strong it never dies.