A Ghost of a Chance

With apologies to Dickens. The story is rather long but it had to be published together. For those people who prefer shorter stories, I have split it up into six bite-size chunk parts that can be read (and enjoyed, I hope) separately. Any constructive criticism, positive or negative, is really appreciated. Votes are nice too.

– o – O – o –

Love is like the moon; when it does not increase it decreases. Segur

– o – O – o –

Part One

"What d'you mean, he does nothing, Emma." The older woman shook her long blonde hair in utter amazement and the look of shock in her sapphire blue-eyes made her attractive younger neighbor smile back across the kitchen table.

"It's not compulsory you know, Liz," Emma replied.

"Oh yes it is, Ems. Even the most boring husbands do something for Valentine's Day. I don't know, yucky chocolates, a few tired roses – something, anyway."

Emma's pretty smile broadened even wider. "That's just the point, Liz. It's so predictable. Where's the passion and romance in that?"

"It's in the fun and the fantasy, Emma, in your soul. If I know my Nick, I'll probably get rubber crotchless panties and an obscene card. Then he'll hope a surf'n turf with beer down the steak bar will persuade me to let him consummate the evening by sticking his cock up my ass. After that, he'll be snoring in my ear all night."

Emma laughed loudly, her raven black curls dancing in the light as she shook her head in mock despair at her friend.

"Liz, you're really terrible! Your husband is much more romantic than that and I know he worships the ground you walk on. Hell, I get sick of hearing Nick go on about the blonde, blue eyed Venus who makes his life worth living."

"And I thought his secretary was a brunette! No, seriously Emma, I'm just joking. Maybe I do exaggerate a bit, well, maybe a lot; maybe he's not that bad. The point is, Em, if you're a man you've gotta do something; be a bit romantic, live the fantasy. Isn't that what we got married for really – not the daily grind and looking in the mirror to watch our curvy bits heading south?"

Emma looked wistful as she stretched out a long, pale slender arm and helped herself to another glass of cold Chablis from the half-empty bottle on Liz's kitchen table.

"Well, we used to I suppose," she sighed. "The first few years we were married, we were worse than school kids, celebrating everything from birthdays to the first time we met. Lots of silly surprises, champagne and sexy lingerie but, that all sort of stopped. It wasn't a conscious thing; I guess we just grew out of it. Anyway, David's so busy these days and he's away so often, it doesn't make sense."

Emma could see the puzzled look in her friend's face and felt the need to explain further.

"No, Liz, really; what David and I have got is deep and true and eternal. I promise you. I love him dearly and I'm sure he's right. He always says after ten years together we should be mature enough not to need all that silly flim-flam. At least I know for certain there won't be any panties for me on Saturday, crotchless rubber or otherwise!"

"God, girl! You sound more than brother and sister than man and wife. Is that what you want? Do you still lust after his body and want him to ravish you like a caveman?"

Not only mortified at her friend's question Emma was also indignant and bitterly hurt, "Of course I still want him!"

Liz saw she had touched a raw nerve and wished she had been more sensitive with her best friend. "I'm so sorry, Ems, I really didn't mean to be rude or upset you. I was just surprised, that's all. Please, please forgive me, let's change the subject."

A second bottle of wine had been emptied before Emma finally said goodnight to her friend and neighbor and slipped back next door. In the darkness of the hall, she saw the red flashing light of the answering machine and distractedly pressed the play button.

"Sorry, darling, we've hit a few snags down here. Looks like I could be stuck here over the weekend, it can't be helped. Sorry I didn't catch you tonight, I'll call tomorrow. Lots of love."

"Damn him," thought Emma, as she hit the erase switch so hard she nearly broke the machine. "Damn him, damn him, damn him! He sounds so bloody casual about it too."

She damned Liz too, for raising things in her mind that she would rather not think about. What was it, "more like brother and sister?"

That struck a raw nerve. David was a good man, always faithful; as far as she knew, but these days it was more like good friends than good lovers. They were becoming life-long companions rather than the feral, sexual beasts of a few years back and she felt the loss deep in her soul. They were on the treadmill to live the American dream, weren't they? A decade slogging to build careers and make a decent life, a few baby-making fucks and, whoopy-doopy, she'd soon be a fully paid-up soccer mom with sagging tits and a sagging libido.

It was easy to picture the scenario. "No, no, David not tonight, Esmeralda might hear. And, anyway, I've got to take Hermione to ballet class at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

Aaarggghh! She knew that she wanted, needed even, to be much more physical, sexual; to be herself. It wasn't kids. God she wanted kids, but not at the expense of her life, her very being. Hadn't her Dad always told her, "I may be a simple country boy at heart, but don't let any of those fancy-pants college types tell you any different. A woman's place is to be herself. She ain't goin' to satisfy nobody, her kids, her man, 'specially not herself, if she don't stay true to her real self. I expect a daughter of mine to stay focused on her own life, like her Mom, whatever the rednecks and them Ivy League commies say."

It was right, Emma knew in her heart, but pretty amazing coming from a guy like her Dad. God, how she loved him! Few men thought like that and she'd believed David thought like Pop. Good grief, growing up on the farm in Wyoming there was little standing on ceremony or embarrassment about showing emotional feelings or the basic realities of bodily functions. Perhaps Princeton and city life weren't really for her.

She'd just told Liz she loved David and she did but, she asked herself, these days was it really romantic, passionate emotion? Sure, they still slept together, when he was there, and they made love; if not as often as she'd like. No, that wasn't right. They had perfunctory sex!

Tears welling in her chestnut eyes, she poured another glass of wine, went into her bedroom and started to undress. Despite her apparent middle-class primness, Emma knew she had dark, sexual urges; basic country girl realities that weren't understood these days by her husband and all her city friends; fantasies that the strong handsome man in the photo on the nightstand used to love to fulfill but seemed to have moved away from these days.

She looked at her tall, slender, pale body in the mirrored doors of the closet. Memories of the wild, early days with David came to her mind. She remembered the illicit midnight skinny-dipping in the college pool, the naked, horizontal workout sessions in the back seat of David's beat-up old Nissan. Where had the fire gone?

As she eased her svelte, naked body into the lonely king-sized bed, she squeezed her firm milky white breasts. They weren't exactly porn star magnitude, but they certainly used to be big enough to take her husband's large hard erection pumping between them until he came all over her face and neck. Emma remembered with a wry grin how shocked David had been when she'd first asked him to 'titty fuck' her. God, how she used to love shocking him, the prissy New Englander, with her understanding of sex in the raw and its possibilities.

With memories of wild, raunchy sex going through her head, she became aware of the aching between her legs. One hand traced over the damp curls on her mound to comfort her soaking, throbbing pussy while the other reached out to the nightstand drawer for her silver vibrator. At just 32 years old, she thought it seemed a pretty sad life.

"This just isn't enough!" she screamed inwardly. "I need a hot, hard cock. He's got to be told, shape up or ship out. I just wish somehow he could see what's going wrong with us."

* * *

Part Two

After an awful day in the clients' office, David just wanted to get rid of his co-worker and get to bed as quickly as possible. However, politeness demanded they eat together in the hotel restaurant first.

"Err, about the weekend, David," Paul started nervously, as they sipped coffee. "You see, it's Valentine's on Saturday and, well, I know it's a bit silly but, I like to make a bit of fuss of Suzie..."

"I understand, it's no problem, Paul. We don't need two of us to stay over; I can handle things 'til Monday. Go home for the weekend if you want to."

"Well, if you're really sure that's all right, David. I mean, that's great, thanks a lot. But what about you? Won't Emma get upset if you don't make it back for the fourteenth?"

The tall, dark haired man sat back in his chair and chuckled.

"Oh no, Emma won't mind at all, probably only too glad to have a weekend to herself. She's always understood the job comes first and, anyway, she's not into all that superficial nonsense about hearts and flowers."

"But, David..."

"To an outsider we may look like a boring married couple but, actually, we're very happy the way we are. We've got a really deep relationship, like soulmates, I guess. We don't need that superficial kind of stuff to keep the romance alive."

A short while later, undressing in his room, David was still smiling to himself about Paul's sentimental silliness as he poured himself a large brandy and got into bed.

Sleep was a long time coming. He tossed and turned restlessly for ages before falling into a fitful doze. Something was wrong. His brain seemed to be running on fast-forward or some wire had tripped. He didn't know if he was having a strange dream or a frightful nightmare. Suddenly there was a strange calm and he imagined a very old gnarled man dressed in a flowing white Roman toga was shaking his shoulder urgently.

"Wake up, David. You must wake up."

He looked up and saw a grizzled face completely covered with long white hair and a flowing, white beard.

"Who, who the hell are you, for God's sake?"

"It'll be fine if you just call me Val, I think."

"But, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, someone just wanted me to show you something!"

"I don't want to see anything. I need to sleep; I've got important work tomorrow, go away," said David with irritation.

"You have no choice, I have been called. You have to come with me. Now, hush!"

The wizened old man, ghost, apparition or whatever, was surprisingly strong and David thought he felt himself pulled out of bed until he stood, dressed only in a pair of black silk boxers, feeling embarrassed and bad-tempered. Before he could grab a bathrobe or remonstrate with the stranger, the hotel room began to darken and disappear from sight as a troubling mist hid David's view...

When he could see again, he found himself standing, nearly naked, in a pitch-black room. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out an empty bed and the old man standing beside him.

"What the..." he began.

"Ssh!"

He heard noises, then footsteps on the stairs. The sound of excited voices reached him.

"Oh, David darling, that was beautiful. You are so thoughtful; I do love you so very much."

"That was just the hors d'oeuvre, honey; the main course is still to come."

To the sound of girlish giggling, two people entered the darkened room, arm in arm. It was too dark for David to see clearly but from the silhouettes he could make out a man and a woman, both quite tall and, it seemed, quite young.

Leaving the woman standing in the middle of the bedroom, the man busied himself on the bedside cabinet before, slowly, the scene lit up with a flickering golden glow as dozens of candles burst into flame. There was a loud pop as the man opened a bottle of champagne that had been sitting in a bucket of ice. He filled two flutes and, giving one to the woman, said;

"To the love of my life, for now and always!"

As the tall dark-haired girl raised the glass to her lips, the candlelight caught the glitter of the diamond necklace suspended from her ivory white neck. The cluster of stones rested on the upper swell of her full chest, her breasts tightly supported by the bodice of her strapless black sheath dress.

In the candle glow, David was transported by the beauty of the girl. Black, shiny curls framed a round smiling face and cascaded onto bare alabaster shoulders.

Turning to the old man, he whispered, "But that's me and Em –"

"Silence! We can see them but they can't see us."

The man sat on the bed, still dressed in jacket and tie, gazing adoringly at the elegant, doe eyed woman in front of him.

"Honey, I think it's time you modeled that necklace in the setting I've been dying to see it in all night"

Putting her glass down, the girl posed coquettishly and whispered, "So do I, lover."

Breathing rapidly, she moved her hands behind her back and the tight dress gaped tantalizingly open as she lowered the zip to her waist. Holding the sides, the dress was pulled down and with a sexy wiggle of her hips, Emma let the fabric fall in a pool at her feet.

The man gasped at the sexy sight in front of him, letting his eyes slowly drink in the glorious near nudity of the woman. The small dark areolas contrasted sharply with the milky white color of her full, firm breasts and he could see her dusky large nipples jutting out proudly. A silky black thong hung from the swells of her hips and long slender legs were encased in shiny black, thigh high nylons.

A wicked smile played on the girl's face.

"My, you do look a bit heated, darling. Wouldn't it be better if you made yourself a little more comfortable?"

The man needed no encouragement as he began taking off his jacket and tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

Enjoying her control of the situation, Emma stepped out of her dress and, as she leant forward to pick it up, she paused deliberately. Even though she couldn't see her husband's face, she knew his eyes would be glued on her breasts as they hung free, gently swaying. She turned round and bent over slowly to place the dress on a chair, excited at the thought of the wicked display she was making of the taut, rounded globes of her bottom, bisected by the thin black string of her thong.

As she straightened to face him again, she cupped the undersides of her breasts and pushed them together and upwards, letting her thumbs play with the hard tips of her nipples. Small tremors were darting from her teats to her loins and she could feel moisture starting to well in her warm pussy. It was such a turn on to be so sluttish; to tease her husband like this.

"Is this more the setting you were thinking of for the necklace, darling?" she purred, pouting at him and moving her hips seductively. She continued, before he could reply, "Or, perhaps, we should try to do a little better."

She let her breasts fall and, with her thumbs in the strings on her hips, lowered the thong, wiggling her ass more than was strictly necessary in the process. Standing, legs wide apart, her skin tingled as she allowed the man on the bed full view of the plump swollen lips of her hairless pussy. The erotic strip show was making her so very hot, she could see her husband's hard cock straining in his pants.

Wanting to tease him further, she raised a foot and rested it on the bed beside his waist as she slowly rolled down one of her stockings. Her sopping sex was only inches from his face and, as the man's warm, rapid breathing tickled her already tingling labia, she could feel her juices seeping down her thigh. As she repeated the process with her other leg, the man couldn't contain himself. He reached out and she gasped and shivered as he suddenly drew his finger through her wet cleft.

Bending forward, she grabbed his hand to suck her sweet secretion from his fingertip, then said, "Now, now, behave darling, no touching the exhibits!"

She stood completely naked in front of him now; legs wide apart, breasts proudly thrust forward and put her hands on her hips. The cool air of the room caressed her pale bare flesh and she felt her painfully hard nipples erupt in goose bumps. 'God,' she thought with pride, 'what a slut I am really!'

Pouting again, she breathed huskily, "Is this more the setting you were thinking of, David? The completely unadorned look?"

"Oh, oh yes," was all the young David could manage, lost for words in lust.

"Perhaps you'd like a closer inspection of the exhibits," she purred provocatively, moving to sit kneeling astride his legs. Her wet, shaved vulva, glistening in the candlelight, was gaping lewdly open inches from the man's bulging crotch. A shiver ran through her as her hands touched the warm skin of the man's firm chest and eased his shirt off his shoulders.

The man leant forward, first kissing the diamond necklace, then letting his mouth swirl round Emma's breasts, kissing and nibbling each pale globe in turn. The dark peaks of her nipples seemed to swell and extend further as he slowly twisted them between his fingers. A pink, rosy glow suffused the milky white on her shoulders and chest and she was breathing in shallow gasps. Even above the scent of the candles, Emma could smell her own arousal.

"Oh, God! Oh, God!" she panted, as sparks of electricity shot through her body. "More, David, more, I want you now."

Pulling away, she dropped to the floor on her knees, all pretence gone now as her need for fulfillment possessed her. She snatched at his belt buckle and zip, almost fumbling in her rush to open them. He eased off the bed a little to allow her to pull his pants and briefs off together. She smiled perversely as she examined his straining erection, the small bead of clear liquid on the tip evidence of the effect of her teasing.

Her tongue grazed the small slit of his cock, lapping up his juices. The taste seemed like nectar to her. Taking the swollen purple head of his penis in her mouth, she forced herself to suck gently whilst rolling her tongue underneath, just flicking the sensitive little fleshy line on the underside of his shaft. She cupped his balls in one long, slender hand, enjoying the pulpy sensation as her fingers rolled them against each other in their sac, her pleasure heightened by the sound of his moans.

She wanted to torture him like this for ages, savoring the feeling of his hot, rigid flesh against the softness of her lips and tongue, but her own body was screaming for attention. Taking his engorged cock fully in her mouth until she could feel the head press into her throat, she coated the shaft with saliva as her tongue licked feverishly. Her mouth began sliding up and down his cock as she held the base tightly between two fingers and cupped his balls. Hearing David's groans become louder and shriller made her more excited and she put a hand between her thighs to rub her clit. She willed herself to go more slowly but the demands of her loins pushed her faster and faster. As she felt the balls in her hand begin to tighten, the cock in her mouth quivered.

"Now! Now!" he panted gruffly and she drew back quickly, just holding the head firmly between her lips as he came copiously, hot seed jetting fiercely on her tongue and against the back of her throat. Lifting her head away, the man smiled contentedly, watching her swallow his salty emission and then licking her lips like a cat that has just enjoyed a saucer of cream.

"Now me, it's my turn, take me now!" the woman implored as she climbed up on the bed, pulling him with her.