A Ghosts Tale Ch 03

David and Michael clanked their beer bottles together celebrating the complete and refurbished upstairs bath. The new black and white ceramic tile on the floor and up the walls gleamed. The redone plumbing and electrical worked perfectly. Michael stretched out the kinks in his back the new toilet put there and drank down his beer in large gulps. They were sitting in the common room, watching a baseball game.

"Okay, that only took two weeks," Michael said putting his bottle on the coffee table.

"Bathrooms and kitchens take the longest time," David mused. "And the most money."

Michael let out a long mournful groan, "Gah, money. I feel like all we do is spend, spend, spend!"

David choked back a laugh. "You sound like my mother."

Michael rolled his eyes and flipped open his laptop. He downloaded his email and wrote a quick, naughty message to Belinda. He grinned wickedly as he hit the Send button. They often traded flirty to explicit comments, and Michael (who hadn't seen her in three days) sent a particularly blatant and unflowery message leaving little to the imagination.

She leaned over the back of the sofa, listening to a game between the… Devil Rays? Her brow furrowed in frustration as who ever was calling the play by play was not describing the action very well. She couldn't form the picture in her mind. And who are these Devil Rays and why are they playing the Red Sox in May? She watched the young man, David, drink his beer, and she pined for the bitter taste. She hated beer, but to taste anything…

She heard the call of a 2-2 count, the crack of the bat, the roar of the crowd and the excitement in the announcer. A home run!

David stood and cheered and she wrapped her arms about his broad torso in celebration.

"What?" Michael asked as he rushed back over. He saw the replay of the ball sailing over the right field wall and stamped his foot in disgust. "Aw fuck," he moaned. "That pitcher is on my fantasy team!"

David fell back into the sofa as if knocked off balance.

"How many beers have you had, dude?" Michael chided.

David looked around, "Not near enough to fall over yet." He added a lie, "Must have tripped on something." He felt a pair of soft arms around him. He was sure of it.

"Uh-huh. Hey, I got another email form Sam." Michael announced. "Sent me pics of the cabinets he built."

Michael handed over his laptop.

David scrolled through the gallery and nodded. "Sweet," he said. "And has worked a bunch of installs, too. Are we looking for another roomie or hiring a contractor?"

"Both?"

She listened to their laughter and a little giggle escaped her parted lips. She walked around the sofa, coyly dragging her fingertips along the edge and then sat next to her handsome David. He stretched out his arm and she nuzzled up next to him and closed her eyes listening happily to the baseball game.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

Michael put his pencil down and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Bad enough he had to restore this money pit, and bad enough his stipend from his parents barely covered that expense, he had calculus homework and was still wiped out from too much baseball and too much beer. He idly grabbed his cell phone and dialed Belinda.

"Hello?"

"Bel, it's Mike. What are you up to tonight?"

A loud clunking knock thudded from the door.

"Oh, the usual. Nothing. Want to come over? We could kick Tamara and Cheyenne out of the apartment."

Michael grinned and rose from his seat. "Mm, that sounds great baby. There's someone at the door."

"Okay. Call me back."

Michael opened the door and peeked around it. A young woman stood relaxed on the stoop. Her weight was shifted to her right side and a hand rested on her hip. She was sheathed in black and white racing leathers and a matching helmet dangled in her off hand. Her midnight black hair was pulled into a sharp, leather wrapped ponytail that dangled over her shoulder. Her large green eyes looked up and a coy, knowing smile curled her full lips.

"C-can I help you?" he croaked.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Sam."

Michael fumbled for some words before inviting the girl inside. He watched her glide into the house and fling her ponytail down her back. Sam looked around with a soft smile on her face. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds.

"This place has some great bones," she said.

Michael heard her speak but was too busy starting at her curves barely hidden by her racing leathers. "Uh-huh," he grunted in response.

Sam turned quickly catching Michael's staring and cocked her hips, grinning. "So," she announced. "Which room is mine?"

+++++++++++++++++++++

Michael stood under the showerhead and let the hard spray hammer at his tight shoulders. He couldn't shake the sight of Sam's leather clad tail from his mind. He traced how she moved into the room, glided more than walked, and even in heavy, clunky, riding boots she had a grace that was hypnotic.

He sighed, soaped up his hands, and washed himself. As he washed his cock, the memory of Sam's eyes, smile, and her well-shaped body flashed into his mind. He peeled off the leathers in his mind, imagining what she looked like, as his hand slowly worked his soap-slicked member. His manhood responded and it soon grew in his hand.

Michael ran his fingers along his hardening shaft, paying attention to the now exposed, sensitive flesh under his pink mushroom shaped head. The ring created by his thumb and middle finger tightened as he imagined the feel of the new girl's lips around his cock. He looked down and fantasized about gazing into her large, emerald eyes as her mouth glided up and down his manhood.

She giggled and spread across the vanity like a stretching cat. Her view was perfect, and she could see his fantasy girl kneeling before him in the shower. It was whispy, nebulous, only really consisting of a barely made out body and large, sparkling green eyes.

"Mmm," she purred. "Naughty, naughty. And you already have a girl."

She watched as he pleasured himself, going from his face to his crotch and back again.

An unspoken fantasy entered Michael's mind: one he never voiced but the idea always excited him. His cock responded and grew even more rigid as the flashes and thoughts played out in his mind.

He wanted to fuck a girl and have Belinda watch.

He imagined his girl outside, watching, as he used the unnamed girl's mouth. His hand tightened more as he fantasized about pressing the girl to the wall of the shower and entering her sex, hearing Belinda's soft direction. Then the words he truly loved to hear her say reverberated in his mind.

"Michael," the fantasy Belinda mewed, "I want to watch you cum."

He couldn't hold back any longer and streams of jism exploded from his cock, spattering against the wall of the shower. He slumped forward and let the spray hammer against his shoulders as he panted.

She smiled coyly, opened her legs and posed on the vanity. "Mmm, thanks for the show, big boy."