📚 sex death and other strange ideas Part 8 of 10
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ADULT ROMANCE

Sex Death And Other Strange Ideas Ch 08

Sex Death And Other Strange Ideas Ch 08

by rsthomas42
19 min read
4.78 (771 views)
adultfiction
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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)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas-ch-06

(Chapter 7)

https://www.literotica.com/s/sex-death-and-other-strange-ideas-ch-07

#####

CHAPTER 8

It was the wee hours of the morning when Jo sat back from the glowing computer screen and sipped at her coffee, reading over what she had written. Jean-Luc was curled up next to her bare leg, his thick fuzz a little ticklish, and she stroked him as she perused her dream diary's latest entry. She'd been writing too fast to pet her cat when he came begging for affection, and he started purring loudly as he finally got the attention he felt he deserved. God, Jean-Luc could be a queen.

Unlike her last journal entry which had been fragmented and nightmarish, this one was full of every possible detail. The result almost had her playing with herself again, but she refrained in favor of getting it all down before she forgot it. Not that there was much chance of that, the entire slumbering fantasy had been so incredibly real that Jo could still feel the gentle brush of male stubble between her legs.

It definitely hadn't been her usual sexual fantasy, and she knew because she catalogued them all in her private writings no matter how taboo they might be. Any genuine wet dream was something to be celebrated, as she practiced the techniques of giving them to herself. But Alex was not her run-of-the-mill fantasy man. Sure, he was attractive but he wasn't the uber-masculine ideal that her imagination normally indulged her with. Jo normally found "awkward" to be cute for about five minutes before it began to irritate her. He had even been hesitant, as if concerned about being proper, and 'proper' wasn't something Jo fantasized about at

all

. Frankly, she was more into the idea of a sexy ghost fucking her silly while she masturbated without her knowledge. She hadn't told Alex that, it sounded more like second-date material.

There was also their strange conversation. Alex had identified himself as 'real'. He said he lived in her house even though she couldn't see him or any signs of another presence. He said he watched her and was the man in the bathroom she had been

certain

was there. He claimed to not even have a body until her sleeping mind gave him one. The word 'ghost' lingered in Jo's mind, determined not to leave under its own power. Having sex with a dead person was an interesting fantasy, but not one she'd ever had before.

Jo gave this all serious consideration. She remained skeptical, but admitted her knowledge of psychic phenomenon was limited. The very concept of lucid dreaming was something most people pooh-poohed, but if last night hadn't been the genuine article, she'd never get closer in her life.

Feeling a bit ridiculous but not caring, Jo got up from the couch and padded out into the great hall. She gave the portrait of Cornelius Cairnwood the finger (

that

fucking thing had to go away), and then stopped in front of the full-length mirror. "Alex, are you there?" she asked. There was no response of course. Jo didn't know why she was doing this, it was such an absurd idea. But it was four in the morning, nobody was here, so who gave a rat's ass? "Alex, if you're here, talk to me." Presto, nothing. Big surprise.

Jo crossed her arms and considered how far she wanted to go with this. She had a germ of an idea cooking but wasn't sure how stupid she'd feel carrying it out. She really didn't believe in this preposterous shit, yet she wanted to try just to put her own overactive imagination at ease.

#####

Alex stood beside Jo as she perused the mirror in the grand hall. He was still trying to recover from their evening and wasn't enjoying much luck. He had awoken the same instant Jo did, back in his usual incorporeal state with only

shocking

memories of what had passed between them.

Now once more, Alex was reduced to a mere spectator. He touched Jo on the arm and was rewarded with a brief spell of gooseflesh, but she didn't even seem to notice. This beautiful woman who was so real and alive and responsive in his arms just moments ago was once again unaware of his presence. It was frustrating and more than a little depressing, and it made Alex wonder if he had somehow imagined the whole thing. He could only pray he hadn't.

Then Jo called his name into the mirror and had Alex breath, he would have gasped for relief. If their encounter

had

been imaginary, at the very least it was a shared fantasy.

Alex stepped close behind her and touched her on the arms. No response. "Jo?" he said close to her ear. "Jo, I'm here, can you see me?" He tried putting his arms around her from behind and kissing her neck in the spot she had found so delightful earlier. This earned him an unconscious shudder, but otherwise nada. Once again feeling a bit like a spectral rapist, Alex tried fondling her in the ways he knew she liked, his hands roaming over her womanly curves. The only visible reaction was the hardening of a nipple as he caressed it, which might have been a sexual response or not. Aside from a few involuntary reactions, she appeared to be not aware of him at all. Shit.

Jo stared glumly into the looking glass some more, but didn't say his name again. Alex maintained contact, but she remained disappointingly unaware. What had passed between them only made him want her more, but he was simply unsure of the physics of such an act. Alex wanted to experience her again, to feel her wonderful feminine body next to his as she made noises of delight at every second of contact. But he had no idea where to start.

Giving up on his efforts for the moment, Alex remained close, looking over Jo's shoulder at her reflection. He tried to

will

her to see him in the mirror again, even if he scared the shit out of her. The fact she could perceive him at all raised significant questions about her nature as well as his own. Alex had picked up a few basic concepts of phenomenon like ghosts and mediums from watching the television with unknowing housemates, but most of it was so obviously male bovine excrement that he had disregarded it until now.

They remained there for several minutes, Jo staring intently into the mirror with her eyes studying the room reflected within. Alex waved and tried to catch her attention, but her eyes passed over him unseeing. Double shit. Jo crossed her arms and looked like she was mulling something over, all while appearing a little disgusted with herself. Then she shrugged and walked back into the living room to sit down in front of her computer again.

Alex trailed after her and sat down next to her on the couch. Even though he wondered if he had finally relented, gone insane, and imagined the whole thing, fine details about their encounter were right there in electronic type on her machine for him to read. Alex watched Jo set to work again, curious to see if she would write anything else about him.

Instead, Jo opened a new tab and typed into the search engine, "How to talk to ghosts".

#####

It was a couple of hours later and another pot of coffee before Jo was ready. Most of what she had read sounded like so much bullplop, but a few things grabbed her attention. For example, the simple fact that if you can see them from time to time, it's a nearly sure sign you're capable of communicating with them. Jo read all the warnings about malevolent spirits this and lower astral entities that, but if she really

had

contacted something real, Alex didn't seem the tiniest bit malignant. He had seemed more confused, lonely, and frustrated than anything.

The large coffee table had been cleared to make room for her handiwork. Jo had snagged a stack of Post-it notes, written letters, numbers, "yes", "no", and after a moment's thought "I don't know", and arranged them all in a large circle. An upside down shot glass would serve as a planchette, even if it had "Picard/Riker 2004" printed on it. The morning sun had just barely started to peek in the windows, so Jo closed the heavy drapes, turned off the ceiling light, and lit a couple of candles for illumination. She wasn't sure if there was a particular time of day this was supposed to work better than others, but it was such a ridiculous idea to begin with, she figured it didn't matter.

Jo knelt on the soft carpet before her makeshift Ouija board and laid her fingers atop the shot glass. Closing her eyes, she did her best to clear her mind and open herself up to receive communication as was suggested by her reading. A couple of deep breaths and she said aloud, "Alex, are you here?" No response. "Alex, if you're here, talk to me."

#####

Alex knelt on the other side of the coffee table from Jo. He knew what she was trying to accomplish, but he wasn't sure how to do his part. Alex tried laying his own fingertips on the shot glass, but as usual, they passed through it as soon as he applied any pressure. He tried tapping it on the side with similar results. He gave this some thought, trying to figure out how he was supposed to make this thing move, and then Jo called his name again. The tone in her voice was tinted with self-depreciation. Shit, she was about to give up.

An idea struck him. Alex moved around the table to Jo's side and instead of trying to touch the glass itself, he laid his hand atop hers. Jo shivered deeply as he let himself sink into her until her hand and his were occupying as close to the exact same space as Alex could manage. She gave another deep tremor and then called out one more time, "Alex? Is that you?"

Rather than trying to move the makeshift planchette itself, Alex began to move his hand while it was merged with Jo's.

#####

Yes.

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Jo let out a startled gasp as the shot glass glided toward the slip of paper with the affirmative written on it. She had felt silly setting this up, felt sillier sitting in a darkened room calling a man's name, and was about to pack it in and try to get some more sleep. But then a marrow-deep chill settled into her bones and the planchette started to move.

"Alex... where are you?" she asked the empty room.

H...e...r...e...

The upside down shot glass moved across the table, picking out one letter at a time.

Jo shuddered again. "Like,

right

here?" she asked a bit lamely. "I can feel something, is that you?"

Yes.

Jo looked up from her Ouija board and peered around the darkened room. There was nothing to be seen, but the cold was back, as was her instinctual knowledge that she was not alone. "Who are you?" she asked. She wasn't exactly afraid, but this was turning into an extremely bizarre morning. This time the planchette moved to the paper that had "

I don't know

" written on it.

"You don't know?" Jo thought a moment and then remembered something Alex had said in her dream. "Is your last name really 'Wilson'? I could look you up."

No.

"What is it?"

I don't know.

"Alex, please be honest with me," Jo said. "

What

are you? Are you really a ghost?"

I don't know.

"Do you..." Jo swallowed audibly. "...Mean me any harm?"

No. No. No.

The way the shot glass moved under her fingers, Jo suspected that if she had included an exclamation point, she would have gotten three of those too. "Okay, Alex, I believe you. Did what happened last night really happen?"

I... T...h...i...n...k... S...o...

the planchette picked out.

"Never done that before?"

No.

"Me neither." Jo was tempted to ask if he wanted to do it again but refrained for now. Her initial shock that this was actually working was replaced with intense curiosity. When Jo spoke again, it was in a much less ritualistic and more conversational tone. "How long have you been in this house, Alex?"

L...o...n...g... T...i...m...e... I don't know.

"And you said you couldn't leave?"

No.

"Why not?"

The do-it-yourself planchette hesitated a moment, and Jo was about to repeat the question when it moved again.

B...a...d... T...h...i...n...g...s...

"Bad things?" Jo asked. "Bad things keep you from leaving, or bad things are here in the house?"

Yes.

Jo shuddered. "Yes to which question?"

B...o...t...h...

Now the hair was standing up on Jo's neck. "What kind of bad things?"

I don't know.

"Shit on toast. Okay, Alex, tell me the truth again. Do I need to get in touch with a priest or an exorcist or something?"

Once again there was a pause and then the glass moved beneath her fingers, picking out one letter at a time.

I... H...o...p...e... N...o...t...

"Alex, you're not reassuring me." Jo cast her eyes around the candlelit room warily, not sure what she was looking for. Her fingers trembled a bit where they rested on the shot glass. "Okay, here's what I'm going with right now. I moved into your house, you didn't move into mine. What happened last night was a real thing, and everything you said was the truth. At least as you believe it, there's a lot you don't know or can't remember. Am I doing good so far?"

Yes.

The planchette didn't hesitate at all.

"All right, I'm going to trust you, Alex," Jo said. "Because besides it being cold as hell in here, I don't get a bad vibe off you. Is that a good thing for me to do?"

Yes.

"Could you lie to me if you wanted to?"

A brief pause.

I... G...u...e...s...s...

Jo smiled a little at the response. She could picture Alex in her head, shrugging at this question. Her dream came back to her, reassuring her that whatever Alex was, he appeared more confused and lonely than malevolent, and she found herself once again feeling sorry for his predicament. "All right, Alex, one more question and then we'll change the subject. Will you tell me if I'm in danger?"

Yes.

The glass moved fast this time.

"Am I?" Jo asked, immediately breaking her promise.

I... H...o...p...e... N...o...t...

"At least you're being honest," Jo said. "I like that in a man. So, let's talk about you a minute. You don't know exactly what you are, and you're not sure how long you've been here, but you can't leave. Have I got that right?"

Yes.

"And nobody has ever known about you?"

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No

.

"Dang," Jo said half to herself. "What do you have to

do

around here for fifty years?"

There was another pause, and then the shot glass moved again.

T...h...i...n...k...

"Sorry, stupid question. I guess I didn't want to think eternity would be that boring. Alex, do you

want

to leave?"

Yes. No.

"It sucks here, but it might suck somewhere else worse?"

Yes.

"I'm hip," Jo said. "God, I have so many things to ask you that I want to sedate myself to see if I can dream again and we can have a conversation. And you can do more than just think, you can touch

me

at least. I can feel you." Jo nodded down to where her fingers rested on the makeshift planchette, her bare arms covered with gooseflesh. "I'm not imagining that, you

are

touching my hands, right?"

Yes.

Jo shivered again, but this time not from cold.

I'm touching the spirit world, maybe even the afterlife!

she thought.

Or at least it's touching me.

The events of their shared dream recurred, as well as Alex's confession about secretly joining her masturbation session, and another shudder ran through her that had little to do with temperature. Jo couldn't resist a small, self-depreciating smirk. She had been presented with honest-to-God proof of life after death, and the first thing she did was take it to bed and suck it off. Maybe Queen Penelope had a point. Nah, no she didn't.

"Alex," Jo said. "You've piqued my curiosity to say the least. I'd really like to find out who and exactly what you are if I can. You said you don't remember any life before this one?"

No,

came the reply

.

"How did you get here, do you remember that much?" Jo asked. "What's the first thing you remember?"

The shot glass paused a long time, then slowly began to move again.

G...r...e...e...n...h...o...u...s...e...

"The greenhouse? What happened, did you wake up there?"

Did you die there?

Jo considered asking and then refrained. That sounded a bit too blunt.

Yes,

was Alex's response and then again,

B...a...d... T...h...i...n...g...s...

"Bad things in the greenhouse," Jo said. "Okay, duly noted. But you don't know what's in there?"

No.

"All right, I'll be careful," Jo said. "Alex, there's

got

to be a way to find out who you are... or were. I could try digging up the history of the house, maybe you owned it sometime in the past. It's somewhere to start anyway. If we can at least figure out your last name, I can look you up and maybe find out what happened to you."

The shot glass moved again under Jo's fingers, eagerly this time.

T...h...a...n...k... Y...o...u...

"You're welcome

,

" Jo said with a smile. "It's the least I can do after last night."

#####

"I'll be back in a little while, Alex," Jo said to the empty hall a few hours later. "I have to run a few errands, and I have an idea that might help us. If my travels have taught me anything, it's that research pays off. Jean-Luc, be nice to Alex while I'm gone." She gave a wave, flipped ol' Cornelius the bird out of habit, and stepped out into the sunshine closing the door behind her.

It was warm out, but a deep chill suddenly settled into her again. "Alex, is that you?" Jo asked the air, looking around. Naturally there was no response, but without warning the cold intensified briefly and then vanished without a trace. Jo raised a hand to her mouth, touching her own lips with her fingertips. She had the strangest sensation there. "Did you just kiss me?" Jo inquired, but the presence was gone.

Other than Alex insisting there were unidentified "bad things" in the house, Jo got no sense of menace whatsoever. They had chatted all morning using Jo's homemade Ouija board to painstakingly communicate. She had asked a lot of questions, eighty percent of which the answer was "I don't know". Somehow, the upside down shot glass gliding across the varnished tabletop looked apologetic every time it had to drift toward that particular answer. Jo's hands still tingled from their contact, though she was starting to realize that it wasn't really a physical sensation. It was more a spiritual one that her mind was translating into something she could understand. Fucking weird.

The likeliest conclusion they had reached together was that Alex was indeed dead, though he maintained the "I don't know" answer for quite a while. Having come to believe in ghosts about six hours ago, Jo was still processing. Every website on the subject warned her against trusting him. Malevolent entities were supposedly everywhere, ready to pounce on anyone who did something ludicrous like make their own Ouija board while alone in a haunted house. But Jo was sure that if there were any 'bad things' in that house, Alex wasn't one of them. If he was, he was a better liar than any alive person she ever met. Alex wasn't just a friendly ghost, he was a goddamn

grateful

one. Even picking out one letter at a time, Alex had managed to convey his joy at finally having someone to speak

with

rather than just speak

at.

Some things, Jo suspected the Devil himself couldn't fake.

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