Sex Death And Other Strange Ideas Ch 06

SEX, DEATH, AND OTHER STRANGE IDEAS

Sex, Death, and Other Strange Ideas is a steamy supernatural romance novel with multiple chapters. Contains language and situations (utterly) inappropriate for those under 18.

(Chapter 1)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas

(Chapter 2)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas-ch-02

(Chapter 3)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas-ch-03

(Chapter 4)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas-ch-04

(Chapter 5)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas-ch-05

#####

CHAPTER 6

What in the

holy hell

was going on here?

The last thing Alex remembered was lying next to Jo on her bed late at night and attempting in his way to hold her hand as she slept. There had been the sensation that someone planted a fishhook in his gray matter, and he felt himself being yanked somewhere. The next instant he was standing outside in the sunshine while Jo puttered about weeding the fountain. And now she could

SEE

him.

Apparently, Alex was a decent liar after all, because the bullshit he'd told Jo about being from the realtors was the first thing he pulled out of his ass. Considering the state he was in, it was amazing he was even able to speak. When he felt his own (suddenly!) physical throat reverberating around the measly handful of words he'd spit out, it had been almost as shocking as finally finding out what his own voice sounded like.

Until now, Alex only knew existence as a bodiless shade. He was able to perceive contact with things, but it always felt disconnected from himself, as if his hand belonged to someone else that Alex only had a rudimentary connection to. Likewise, when Alex walked, he could tell if what was beneath him was hardwood, grass, or carpet, but without weight to press him down and no footsteps to hear, what Alex considered walking was really more like floating a millimeter above the surface. He could detect atmospheric changes like warmth or cold but was unable to sweat or get chills so that was unimportant as well. Once or twice when Alex got a craving for sensation he would go outside on a rainy day and let the drops fall through him. He didn't really like to occupy the same physical space as something else, but it was the most intense sensation available to him.

So now, as Alex followed Jo, who was miraculously able to see and hear him, his mind was too occupied with all the sensory feedback he was getting to wonder what was going on in the first place. The simple act of taking a step forward was a treasure trove of wondrous sensation. Alex glanced down and saw the pants he wore were wide leg blue corduroys, and he could feel the texture rubbing against his skin. It was smooth as silk and rough as sandpaper at the same time. When he lifted his leg, he could see and feel his muscles contract. Gravity affected him, forcing him to adjust his balance, the act of walking basically falling and catching yourself repeatedly. When his loafer-clad foot touched back to the ground, the mild impact sent vibrations up bones and ligaments. There was grass underfoot and Alex could feel it bend and give way under the sole of his shoe. That entire flood of sensation and more came from taking one single step.

To describe the deluge of sensory information that overwhelmed Alex in the short walk from the side garden to the rear veranda would fill volumes. He wasn't simply aware of the breeze as movement in the local air. Alex could feel it caress him like a lover, touching his hair(!), brushing against his skin(!!), and moving around him in deference to his solid body(!!!). Even as he learned to walk again, Alex rubbed his fingertips together, feeling the loops and whorls that were there to give his hands traction. Exploring the sensation a little further, he pressed his palms together and scrubbed them back and forth like a man warming his hands by a fire. The friction created by the texture of his skin and the resulting rise in temperature was so fascinating that Alex had to force himself to stop.

And that was just the external stimuli. Alex was just as sharply aware of a multitude of inner functions taking place. Breathing (holy shit, Alex was

breathing!

) was something people took for granted until they lost capability. Alex inhaled through his new nose and could feel the fine hairs inside shimmying as they filtered the air, one of the body's first lines of defense against harmful environmental pathogens. The breath moved down his windpipe to fill his lungs, and Alex sucked in as much as he could as delightful pressure built in his chest. Reversing the process to exhale was no less wonderous, and Alex took several more deep breaths trying to make the most of every unfamiliar sensation.

The veranda was just ahead, and in his semi-daze the thought emerged that Jo would be turning to look(!!!!) at him in just a few seconds. Alex hadn't the faintest idea of what he was going to say, but he assumed he should at least attempt to act normal, whatever that meant. He couldn't resist one last experiment though and brought his hand up to lay it in the middle of his own chest.

In the back of his mind Alex realized he was wearing two shirts, the inner bright red and yellow in a loud pattern, and the outer a shade of blue with some fancy embroidery on the yoke and plackets. Alex's odd clothing wasn't what he was interested in though. As he pressed down more firmly on his chest, Alex could feel the gentle 'lub-dub' of a heart beating in there, delivering oxygen and hormones throughout his new cardiovascular system. The presence of the symbolic core of emotion, affection, and love seemed to tie Alex together, drawing all the unfamiliar physical sensations that suffused him into one glorious whole.

Alex still didn't have the first clue of what the screaming fuck was going on though.

#####

Jo did

not

trust this asshole and wasn't sure why she invited him to stay except she

really

wanted to know how he had gotten into her mirror. He said he was from Windermere Realtors, suuuuuure he was.

All

their agents dressed like they just stepped out of an early seventies porno theater. They all did hard drugs too, which Jo was becoming more and more certain was the case here. She gave the dude a few backward glances as she led him to the veranda, and he was examining both his surroundings and himself as if he had never seen either before.

Jo thought of her gun, currently tucked safely in a drawer and unloaded even. Governor's Island was a relatively crime-free zone as the wealthy residents insisted it be heavily policed. That combined with the security gate made Jo feel comfortable to lock her weapon away, but now she wished she had it. This guy wasn't

that

much bigger than her, but she could see his musculature beneath his seriously retro attire, and if he should turn aggressive Jo might get hurt before she could take him down.

They reached the shade of the veranda, which was conveniently furnished with a brand new six-piece patio set. Two chaise style chairs, a settee with hand-woven cushions, a couple of end tables and a glass-topped center table, all stylish and nicely matching the aesthetic of the house. On the table sat a crystal cut pitcher of fresh lemonade, droplets of condensation making it shimmer. The ice cubes were fresh from the freezer, not even beginning to melt yet, and a pair of matching glasses sat next to it, along with an unopened bottle of Carbonadi vodka. It was Jo's favorite. Rather than taking a seat, Jo turned to face her surprise guest, eyeballing him critically. He was looking at her patio set with confusion, and he experimentally rapped his knuckles on the wooden roof support as he passed it. Then he turned those

amazing

golden eyes on her, and the familiarity struck her again.

"So," Jo said, giving him a skeptical look as she stashed her gloves in the pocket of her loose-fitting work jeans. "Windermere Realtors huh? Okay, we'll go with that. Allow me to properly introduce myself, I'm Jo Van Doren, please call me Jo. I didn't catch your name, Mister...?"

Oh yeah, Jo thought. This guy was

totally

full of shit. When it took him a beat or two to spit out "Wilson" like it was the first thing he could think of, the miniscule doubts she had left vanished. Though she hadn't discarded the thought he was high off his tits, Jo relaxed a little. A serious predator would have a better story prepared than this. "Alex Wilson," he continued now that he had decided what his own name was. "Alex, please."

"Hi, Alex, why don't you have a seat?" Jo motioned to the chair on the far side settee, maintaining some distance between them in case he freaked out or something. Alex smiled at her and took the offered seat, sitting down clumsily as if he was unfamiliar with his own body. Yep, he was on

major

drugs. "Can I offer you some lemonade?" Jo asked. "I was about to have some myself."

"Oh sure, that would be great," Alex said. He was smiling in a genuine way that reached those eyes of his, and it made him even more handsome than he already was.

Jo gave Alex the once-over as she filled the tall crystal glasses. He really

was

a good-looking man, even if he could use a haircut. He was a brunette just a shade lighter than true black, and though the feathered look matched his overall seventies style, it was poofy and the trimmed sideburns did

not

work these days. He had about a day or so's growth of stubble along his firm jaw, but that just made him look masculine. Alex had a straight nose and nicely symmetrical features, although Jo would like to see what he looked like without those ridiculous vintage glasses. Most of his clothing was too loose to get much of a look at his body, but Jo could see he had decent pecs at least. Lose the silly retro look and this guy could be arm candy.

For the moment operating under the assumption that a rapist or thief would attempt to appear more normal, Jo opened the new bottle of expensive vodka and held it up. "Want your lemonade friendly or hostile?" she asked. "I'm having it hostile myself."

"Um, hostile I guess," Alex answered. He even had a pleasant voice, nice and resonant. The kind that would probably sound good whispering in her ear.

"You sure?" Jo asked him with one eyebrow cocked. "You

are

on the clock, right?"

"On the clock?" Alex looked puzzled.

"Windermere Realtors?" Jo prompted him.

"Oh shit, yeah," he said, remembering. "I guess you better make it friendly then. Sorry, I think the heat is getting to me."

"Really? Hmm, you must be sensitive, it's not that hot out here." Jo defied his wishes by giving his glass a good splash from the vodka bottle, then poured a more generous dollop into her own. She handed him the alcoholic lemonade, and he accepted it with that odd quizzical smile he had. Jo sat down in the chair on the other side of the settee, took a sip, liked what she tasted, and drank a little more of it. The lemonade was the perfect blend of sweet and tart, as if it had been freshly squeezed, and the pricey vodka was so smooth it went down like velvet.

Jo smoothed the skirt of her pretty, flower-pattern sundress that flaunted her curves modestly but beautifully and looked over at this Alex guy with a barely hidden smirk. "Well?" she asked expectantly. "You're here to do a check in, don't you have any questions for me?"

Naturally, the poor schmuck didn't know what to say. Jo was starting to have fun with this, putting him on the spot and watching him squirm. She was still ready to break his elbow if he tried to go for her, but the man seemed so amusingly befuddled that she felt an attack was unlikely. He bought time for himself by taking a drink of his lemonade and seemed startled by it. "Wow, you

did

make this hostile. So, uh... how are you settling in?"

"Oh fine," Jo said brightly. "Getting some things cleaned up, planting new flowers, finishing the torture chamber so it'll be ready for the children. You know, the usual stuff."

Jo's visitor at least had it together enough to recognize a joke when he heard one, and he chuckled revealing straight, white teeth. The breeze changed direction and carried a faint waft of his cologne to her nostrils, and that was familiar too, though she didn't recognize the brand. Jo took another sip of her toxified lemonade and eyed Alex over the rim of her glass. Since he appeared to be at a loss for words again, she decided to tighten the thumbscrews herself.

"So, Windermere Realtors, huh?" Jo asked. "How long have you been with them? So far, I've only met that pretty older lady who always wears pink, what's her name again? By the way, groovy threads, daddy-o."

"Oh," Alex said looking down at himself as if realizing for the first time what he was wearing. He unsurprisingly didn't answer her questions, just turned those captivating eyes back to her. "Thank you, I like your... dress?"

"Why thank you, it's one of my favorites," Jo replied happily, not losing her knowing smirk. Her midi-dress was white, and Jo liked it because it made her look cute and innocent at the same time the décolletage flaunted her cleavage shamelessly. Jo's apprehension about this strange man had pretty much evaporated, and she decided on the spur of the moment to flirt with him a little, just to see if she could get him to blush. She leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand and 'accidentally' giving him a clear view down the soft valley between her breasts. "So apropos of nothing, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, of course," the handsome fellow replied, trying not to look at her tits and failing miserably to Jo's satisfaction.

"Are you frying?" Jo asked. "It's totally cool if you are, especially if you brought some to share. But if you're from the realtors, I'm Mickey Mouse. How about you tell me who you are and how the hell I know you while you're at it." Jo didn't bother adding 'ha ha, gotcha', her smiling expression was saying that quite well.

The man didn't answer for some time and Jo didn't rush him. She remained in her position, a knowing and flirtatious gleam in her eye as he visibly groped for words. At last he spoke slowly, like a man giving deep consideration to everything he was saying before he said it. "Jo... shit..." he said. "Okay, my name

is

Alex and... I watched you move in."

"Ooh, my own stalker!" Jo came back with an exaggerated tone of excitement. "Do go on, I can't wait to hear this. Are you here to ravish me?"

"What? No!" Alex sounded genuinely startled and Jo suppressed a snicker.

"Rats, what's a lady have to do to get ravished in this town? Okay, Alex, you watched me move in. How exactly? That must have been a hell of a telephoto lens." By rights Jo should be calling the cops to remove an intruder instead of drinking and flirting with him. But fuck it, Jo was having fun. Whoever this Alex guy was, he was way too out of his mind to pose any kind of real threat. And he was a damn handsome man underneath his ridiculous 70's attire, Jo didn't think even hipsters dressed like that. The cologne she could smell on him was rather intriguing, she knew her scents and rarely wasn't able to identify what someone was wearing. And of course, Jesus, those

eyes

of his.

"How?" Alex stuttered. "Um..." There was a long pause and once again Jo didn't interrupt him, merely leaned on the table and 'accidentally' showed him her boobs some more. Jo wasn't smirking at this point, she was grinning ear to ear. Alex was so flustered it made him even cuter somehow.

Alex was rescued by the appearance of a fat, fluffy orange cat. He came around the side of the house onto the veranda and strolled right up to the man. Jean-Luc propped himself with his front paws on Alex's knees, gave a curious 'Mow?', and hopped into his lap.

Jo smiled even wider. One of her conditions for a man was he had to get along with her cat, she didn't trust people who couldn't feel empathy for animals. But of course, Alex was being weird about Jean-Luc too, he looked astounded at the animal in his lap, staring like he'd never seen one before. Then he put his hand out as timidly as if the cat was made of razor blades. He rested it on the cat's fuzzy head and was immediately rewarded with a purr and a snuggle into his hand. He looked even more shocked at

that

, and then that beautiful happy smile he possessed returned with a vengeance. Good

God

, this man could smile. "Well, hi, Jean-Luc," Alex said with wonder in his voice and then his teeth snapped shut with an audible click.

"Okay," Jo said, standing up and removing his view of her deep cleavage. "Fun's over. How the

fuck

do you know the name of my cat?"

#####

Alex was stuck, and utterly so. He was still so overcome by alien sensations that he could barely think straight to begin with. Jean-Luc purring away in his lap as Alex cautiously stroked him wasn't just a physical miracle, it was an emotional one as well. Alex could feel the fuzzy animal pressing down on his legs, perhaps even more intensely because Jean-Luc was overweight. He had an extremely loud and eager purr, not only pleasant to listen to but delicious to feel as soft vibrations passed from animal to human at every point of contact. To touch Jean-Luc's luxuriously thick and soft fur wasn't just superb in the tactile sense, to stroke him and feel him respond was enormously soothing. Comforting somehow. Maybe even emotionally gratifying. Alex could feel a warm spot of something unidentifiable appear in the depths of his chest just in case he got bored and needed something else to wonder about.

Even through the haze of new senses, Alex wasn't stupid enough not to know there was a

lot

wrong with this situation. In addition to being able to see and interact with him, Jo's clothing had changed twice. She did it like a quick changer, always when Alex was looking at something else so he missed the actual transformation.

Aside from the obvious 'what the hell?' elements, there was a lot of other strangeness going on. As far as he knew, the fancy patio set they were sitting on hadn't been here before this moment. The lemonade Jo poured out for them was not only sublime to taste, it was ice-cold and there wasn't a refrigerator in sight. If you wanted to get even more subtle than that, Alex was positive that those two planters full of red flowers had yellow flowers in them yesterday.

And of course, there was Jo herself, standing there waiting for an answer. Alex looked at her to realize she had changed clothes

again

, her flirtatiously revealing white midi dress transmogrified into a black, no-nonsense woman's suit while he was paying attention to Jean-Luc. Jo had her arms crossed and was looking down at him with a "just

try

to give me any bullshit" expression. The only thing Jo seemed to find strange about this encounter was Alex himself.

Alex opened his mouth and closed it again. What the hell could he possibly say to her? '

Hi, Jo, I'm the invisible guy who lives in your house, watches you naked, and helped you masturbate once. Oh, and I'm not positive about this because I've never been told one way or the other, but I've reached the conclusion that I'm probably dead. How are you today?

' Alex was crazily tempted to throw caution to the wind and say just that. It wouldn't be any weirder than anything else going on and Jo seemed the type who would appreciate that kind of honesty.