Unconscious Camilla was now reliving a memory from a year before the aquarium incident.
She was thirty-six at the time, and wearing a tight-fitting dress, high heels, and heavy makeup. She was at home, sitting on the sofa in the living room one December afternoon after having just finished teaching at McGill University. She'd heard some unpleasant news earlier that afternoon: Alain had killed himself.
She sat there for several minutes just musing his death. Though sad about it, and feeling more than a little responsible for passing Nigrovum into him, something she knew had expanded his sorrowful feelings, she was confident Alain wouldn't attack her as a ghost. After all, she'd been kind and comforting to him after their one sexual encounter; she would learn in the not-too-distant future how wrong that assumption was.
After a few more minutes of contemplating Alain, Eros came home. He was seventeen and a half years old now. When he walked into the living room, she got up, suddenly all happy to see her son.
"Hi, sweetie!" she said with a grin, and went up to hug him. She had to look straight up at him as they hugged, for her face was level with the huge boy's chest. "How are you?"
"Oh, better now that I'm with you," he said, sitting on the sofa.
"What happened now?" she asked, sitting on his lap. "Did the other kids give you a hard time again?"
"Yeah," he said. "But I didn't fight with any of them."
"Good boy," she said, kissing his cheek. "Remember, Mommy likes nice boys."
"Oh, please don't call yourself that. Especially not in public. I'm not a baby anymore. I'm almost a fully-grown man now."
"You sure are big enough to be, my adorable giant. Still, you are, and always will be, my baby."
"I wanna be a man, Mom."
"Don't rush adulthood, sweetie," she said, hugging him close. "Jesus once said that if you're not like a child, you won't get to heaven." Then she felt a most unwelcome sensation from his lap, where she was still sitting. "And you won't get to heaven thinking like that, either."
"Like what?" he asked, pretending not to know what she was alluding to.
"You know what I mean. Make him go to sleep."
"But Mom, it's just an automatic--"
"Baby, nice boys don't think that way about their Mommies. Make him go to sleep."
"Sorry."
***************
Suddenly, 37-year-old Camilla woke up, frightened from knowing what memories were soon to be relived. Her eyes focused, and she saw all those lecherous men on the ledge with their cell-phone cameras still getting video of her with her spread-out legs. She would have only frowned at the sight of all those cameras aiming at her gaping pussy and asshole, had she no invisible cock sliding in and out of her wide-open mouth.
Alain's ghost's invisible cock was pumping in and out of her dripping wet cunt.
You seduced me, then you left me wanting more,
he mentally told her.
Sure, you were compassionate when I complained about my abusive father, but I'd fallen in love with you, and even after your husband died, you wanted to be only my friend, no longer a lover. You put this alien intelligence in my blood, and never warned me about the dangers. You selfish bitch!
She couldn't psychically reply to that. After all, he was right. Her only response was to come a huge wad into the water over which she was hovering, since, though his words didn't make her feel good, his ghost-cock sure did.
Danny's ghost-cock was sliding in and out of her damp asshole.
Alain's right,
Danny said in his thoughts.
You got us in bed, but didn't tell us about Nigrovum's dangers. And, oh, how I degraded myself for you! I wish I'd never met you.
Chris's invisible cock was all the way inside her mouth. Her fingers flickered by her chin, for she was tickling his balls.
One of the lechers, on the ledge that was level with her hovering naked body, noted how she was sucking. "Is she deep-throating a ghost's cock?" he asked his friend, who stood beside him.
"Looks that way," said his friend. "If you're right, she has good control over her gag reflex. I can't believe this porn marathon we're watching here!"
The ghost of Vera, the former waitress at
Club Ritz
who'd had the hots for Camilla back in those days, was sucking on her left tit. Akemi's ghost was sucking on the right one. Her breasts bobbed up and down with each suck.
I'll never forget the night you finally let me lick your pussy,
Vera mentally told Camilla.
If only you'd told me what was in your come, I'd never have had you, and I might still be alive today.
"It has been about a month now that Dr. Camilla Mennon-Fox has been hovering naked over a water tank here in this aquarium," said a female reporter for CBC's
The National.
"Now that the truth is known, that Camilla and many other naked young women in countries all over the Western world are being gang-raped by Muslim ghosts, and being made to foul rivers, lakes, and aquariums just as Camilla is here, the Green Parties of Canada, America, England, Germany, and many other Western countries are forming a coalition willing to fight the Islamo-fascist menace. The emergency laws the Green Parties have enacted are facilitating the quick and easy capture of all these Arab men who've mysteriously acquired psychic and telekinetic powers in a new wave of terrorism, of environmental terrorism. This reporter can confidently assert that she's not alone in feeling grateful for the ascendancy of Green Parties in Western countries over the past decade for so; for only the Green Party has proven themselves able to protect our women and our natural resources from degradation."
