While we toasted marshmallows to make s'mores, it was only natural that we told each other ghost stories--some from when we were kids, some we had heard over the years. The random unexpected events in those spooky yarns were not unlike what had led us to that campfire.
I had met Julia some twenty years earlier when she was sleeping with a friend of mine. By the time they broke up, I had moved to another part of the country, but we had kept in touch ever since. Although we enjoyed each other's company, we had never both been unattached and nearby at the same time.
This trip was caused by her latest break-up. She had been living with Jason in Montana near the Canadian border and was ready to get back to civilization. I rented a truck to help her move to San Francisco, which is where I had been for a few years. We loaded the truck and her car with her stuff and hit the road.
We were still an hour from the interstate when the truck stalled. The mechanic from the closest town concluded it was the electronic ignition module. It was Friday and the soonest he could get the part was Monday.
As the truck was towed to the town, Julia suggested that we head into the national forest. We could find a place to stay for the weekend and do a little hiking and canoeing.
The "motel" consisted of a collection of small cabins around a building with shared toilets and showers. There was no restaurant and not much of a store, but Jake the owner sold us some hot dogs as well as the graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows we were toasting to make dessert.
Besides the macabre tales, we used the firelight to catch up with each other. As the flames died, we made plans for the next day before adjourning to our separate cabins.
The cold woke me up. Somehow, the bedcovers were gone. I felt a cool soft weight on me. Opening my eyes, I looked up into a face, barely visible in the dark, as if illuminated by moonlight.
I could hardly move. As sleep cleared from my brain, I was able to see that a naked young woman was lying on top of me. Her firm breasts pressed against my chest, not hard enough to account for my immobility. Her long hair tickled my cheeks as dark eyes looked down at me with a smile that could have been a grin or a grimace.
From her movements, I realized she was riding my hard cock and it easily slid in and out of her. That the grip of her cunt was cool only slightly reduced her effect on me. My hands stroked the contour of her back down to her tight butt. From the infeasible glow of her body in the dark cabin, I decided that I must be dreaming and gave in to my surging excitement.
It is hard to judge time in a dream, but things progressed. The delightful pressure built in me as her motion increased in speed and intensity. Her mouth slowly morphed from a smile into an open "O" as she drove me to the edge.
She lowered her head to my shoulder and a loud moan pulsed in my ears; my dopamine-drenched brain recognized my own voice. My whole body spasmed as my orgasm exploded. She bounced and squirmed as I pumped again and again. The waves of pleasure didn't stop--at least the last thing I remembered was how impossibly long they continued.
The next thing I knew, I was again waking up; this time it seemed more normal. There was some noise, and sunlight leaked through the window shades helping me remember where I was. The warm quilt was all that weighed me down. The sound was a banging on the door and a frantic voice calling my name.
"I'm coming!" I called as I got out of bed, discovering my underwear on the floor. Remembering the dream, I expected to find semen residue on my boxers or the sheets, but saw nothing. Urged on by the continued pounding on the door, I dressed quickly. When I guided my balls into my jeans, they did tingle as if they had been emptied recently. Pulling on a shirt, I opened the door and my friend burst inside.
"Someone... attacked me... last night," she screamed, hyperventilating. Startled, I took her in my arms to comfort her and guided her to sit next to me on the bed.
"What happened?" I asked when she caught her breath.
"I woke up and he was on me. I couldn't push him off," she sobbed. "I yelled but no one heard me."
Holding her close with my arm around her back, I felt her shudder as she recalled the details. "He felt cold. Even though there was no light, I could see his leering face and his naked body."
Julia's eyes flashed as she replayed the events.
"I don't know how long it was. He went faster and faster," her voice cracked in anguish. "Suddenly he jerked. I think he was cumming, but he made no sound."
"Then I heard a moan," she struggled to continue. She held me tightly, tears filling her eyes. "It was me." Her voice became a raspy whisper. "I had an orgasm."
If it hadn't been for my night, I would have been just as upset as she was. I didn't want to immediately discount her story, so I waited for her to finish.
"The next thing I knew, it was morning. I was naked, my underwear and pajamas were on the floor. I jumped out of bed and checked the door. It was locked and the chain was hooked. I don't know how he got in or what he did to me. It was so horrible!" She was full-on crying now, and I stroked her hair as she released her emotions.
"I'm here, Julia," I said. "You're safe now."
"We have to report it," she said when she was back in control of herself. "We have to get that guy."
"Absolutely," I said, wanting to be supportive. "But before we do...," the words caused her to stiffen in my arms.
"I think I should tell you what happened to
me
last night," I said. Her eyes, red and wet with tears, began to turn angry.
I summarized what had happened to me, omitting any detail that made it seem pleasant--no sound, the cold body on me, the eerie illumination, being unable to move.
