Author's Note: If you've met Ray, Brooke, Julia and Destiny you would surely say they live unconventional lives. Their home is rich with passion and steeped in the spirits of the past. Sometimes though, modern wizardry can conflict with and confuse the wills of the most well-intentioned haunts.
Brooke loved watching Destiny dress. She had a muscularity that black women often possess, yet she moved with such uncommon grace. She had mastered pulling up panties smoothly, shifting her thighs from side to side as the silky fabric slid over flawless dark skin.
Brooke said, "Could you slow it down just a little? I'm trying to capture the moment," as she gestured to her drawing pad.
Destiny smiled genuinely as she picked up her bra and replied, "Girl, I have things to do today!" She flipped the bra over, wrapped it around her back, and clipped it in the front. With a salacious grin, she twisted the cups around front, carefully lifted and tucked her boobs in, one at a time. She shook to settle them comfortably and slipped the straps over her shoulders. Not forgetting Brooke, Destiny bent forward at the waist and hefted her tits to display her generous cleavage. She winked and said, "How's this, baby?"
It was a common thing, but it made Brooke shiver. She reached under her drawing pad and into her pajama bottoms. She teased the short hair above her vagina before daring to touch her clit. When she did, it sent bolts of adrenaline through her body. She rocked her head back on the on the overstuffed chair and closed her eyes, letting the warming sensation flow over her. When Destiny left the room, Brooke pulled her hand from her flannel pants and examined her fingertips curiously. They were wet with viscous fluid. 'Oh my,' she said to herself. 'Look at what you do to me.'
"What you do to me...?" she mumbled. Was she really just a lesbian? She had the same thoughts about Julia from time to time. She was the adventuresome one. She was nimble and lithe, moved like no other. She loved new experience and had become addicted to wearing art injected under her skin. Brooke always experienced a vicarious rush when Julia was again tattooed, as if it was her own skin was being marked. And Julia's tongue on her clit was... heavenly. So, maybe she's always preferred women and it took a one-two punch of Destiny and Julia to realize it.
No. There was Ray. Brooke mused about Ray and their relationship. What had begun with a chance encounter in a truck stop in Kingdom City had grown into an unshakable bond. She still hungered for his attention and his touch. It still thrilled her to have him inside and watch the intensity in his face as he pumped. Her heart beat a little faster as she imagined lying in bed with Ray, her legs spread, feeling the weight of his body on her. This was something she could never feel with the girls.
So, not a lesbian. Not completely straight either. If she was asked to choose, it was a choice she would never make. What was wrong with her?
Brooke closed her eyes again and let her head rock back. She put her hand back under her drawing pad and caressed her pussy through the flannel. She wondered if the others ever had the same thoughts.
"Yes," said Destiny.
Brooke blinked open her eyes. Destiny had returned, now fully clothed and was sitting on the arm of chair. She put her hand on Brooke's head and stroked her fine blond hair absently as she looked her in the eyes. "Oh, honey," she said, "You have the artist's eye. You vex about what you see. I ponder souls. Yet, we follow the same path. Perhaps there is a force that binds us." She paused and looked around the room before continuing. "This house has great powers and good intent."
Destiny looked down at Brooke's drawing. They exchanged smiles. She nodded and said, "It's a good likeness."
She kissed her on the forehead and left Brooke to her thoughts and her sketchpad.
Amar and Janessa pulled up in their old Buick station wagon. While Amar unloaded his tools from the back, Janessa strode around the long nose of the wagon and approached Ray standing by the vintage Duster with it's hood open. "Hi Ray," she said. She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a peck on the lips. She glanced down at the old engine, having no clue what she was looking at and said, "It's pretty dirty."
Ray grinned, and replied with faux indignation, "It's almost fifty years old!"
"You should wash it, then!" she replied, laughing.
"Is good idea," said Amar in his husky Bosnian accent, as he came up behind them
"First, we fix timing."
Ray released Janessa, grasped Amar's hand and said, "Man, I really appreciate your help."
"Honey, I'm leaving," said Janessa as she backed away.
Ray glanced around at the second story windows that might have a view of his garage off the alley, as Amar and Janessa groped each other. The two had clearly fallen back in love, but there were probably better places for passionate kissing, boob fondling and crotch grabbing. He cleared his throat, Amar let go of Janessa and joined Ray leaning against the car.
They both watched the curvaceous librarian step around to the driver's side of the big station wagon. Her hips rocked under that silky dress with intentional drama and her ten-gallon tits bounced and wobbled attractively. As she rounded the hood, she blew a kiss to her two-man audience making sure they had a good look at the impressive cleavage that peeked out above her low cut neckline. She wiggled her fingers goodbye and drove off.
"Is good, yeah?" said Amar.
"Is very good, yes." said Ray as he grinned at his friend.
Ray soon learned that Amar's knowledge of Soviet-era Trabants was very useful when working on a vintage Plymouth. Yes, the parts were arranged differently, but the concepts were the same. Automobiles today have so much electronics in them that it is difficult for regular guys to work on them. But it wasn't so with Ray's old car and Amar dug into its engine like it was a comfortable shoe with a worn down heel that held so much utility still, it would be a shame to throw away.
Making conversation, Ray said, "So, it looks like you and your wife have a good thing going now."
"Yes," grunted Amar as he came up for air. He reached for a shop towel with hands covered in grime and mopped his brow. He looked at Ray and smiled. "Now she fucks me every day. Is hard to keep up with her. How you do with three...? I don't know."
Ray thought about that for a few moments. "Well," he said, "I may have spiritual help."
Amar snorted and said, "Allah be praised."
Realizing Amar knew nothing of the horny, erotic dead that occupied his house, Ray went in a different direction. "And the girls, sometimes take care of themselves. You know?"
Amar straightened up with a furrowed brow as though the thought had never occurred to him. Ray watched his visage soften as he imagined that Amar was picturing the girls naked, pleasuring themselves. The man grinned and nodded.