Ghostly Pleasures

As he stands there in all of his exposed vulnerability, she slowly and skillfully goes down on him, her lips tracing a line from his neck to his throbbing penis, standing at attention in front of her, erect with a long and aching desire. He felt her wrap her hand around the base of his shaft and her lips so slightly on the tip. She teased him skillfully, with familiarity and vigor. He could no longer hold back. He enjoyed a few more strokes of her hand and tongue before he violently let go, so violently that just as she was about to swallow is cum, he woke up suddenly, eyes opening to the four walls of his dorm room, alone, his hips gyrating and loud moans escaping from his mouth.

A fucking dream. A WET dream. It wasn't real, but god how it felt like such a release, such a strong orgasm that his legs were still quivering. But how was that even possible? It felt like his girlfriend. IT FELT REAL.

Completely bewildered he slowly swung his feet out over the side of the bed and onto the floor, getting up easily so as not to collapse onto the carpet from the weakness still lingering in his bones. Grabbing his shower caddy he stumbled into the community bath room down the hall and turned on the water to an arctic temperature. He needed to cool off. His heart was still racing, so was his mind.

As the water cascaded over his body, and the soapy suds of the musky scented shampoo dripped from his head down his perfectly chiseled chest and abs, a faint whisper echoed throughout the shower stalls I know what you like baby. A very familiar female voice. What kind of sick joke is this!?

He turned the knob as fast as he could to shut off the water. Silence filled the otherwise empty corridor. "Now I'm hearing things. I'm wide awake and I'm hearing fucking voices." It was probably his roommate messing with him he thought to himself as he looked around suspiciously.

Now fully groomed and dressed, he made his way to his first class. It was a crisp cool autumn day, much like the first time he saw her. The sexiest girl on campus. He remembers exactly where they were, a private party just off campus; he enticed her up to his friend's room with just a smile and a drink. She wasn't easy, just easy going. They talked for hours before anything even happened. She was the initiator. Button by button she opened up her blouse, in between each one she would take his finger into her mouth and suck on it, tease it, drive him to the brink of explosion before her shirt even hit the floor. She was magical. Talented. It didn't take him long to figure that out.

They dated for almost about a year before her accident. He was home from school that weekend, much to his dismay, but work duties called and tuition had to be paid. She stayed at campus with her hiking group; it was their annual fall equinox camping trip, something she looked forward to every year since starting at the University three years ago. It was a Saturday and the weather was better than seasonal for that time of year, 65 degrees and sunny, no wind and nothing but perfect rock climbing conditions. What they didn't realize was the recent rain loosened up the sediment along the bluff; on the narrow vertical path from the river bank to the top of the extremely steep tree lined hill. She lost her grip and slid down rapidly; quick enough that she couldn't recover.

He has since put that tragic day out of his mind. He doesn't need to relive it. But how can he forget when she keeps coming back to visit him? Or at least who he thinks is her. He doesn't believe in ghosts or afterlife stuff, paranormal activity; it's all a bunch of bullshit.

Later that evening, still exhausted from last nights fantastical events and the days classes and football practice, he sunk down into his favorite chair; one that has been in his room since he was a kid, the upholstery worn thin from years of naps and tv watching; studying and reading. Sleep came over him like a heavy fog over a cool lake and the dreams started again.

Her mouth covering his, breathing heavy, tasting the peppermint of her lip gloss, or was it her gum? It all felt so real. His tongue continued to explore her mouth as he reached in between her legs to feel her warmth, her dripping wet slit, she was naked standing over him. His finger slid into her, deep into her. This couldn't be. She isn't really here. He fought the urge to wake up. He wanted to enjoy every second of this fantasy, this paranormal sex he was having, sensing, dreaming. Reality was twisted. He could feel his gym shorts slide down his legs to his ankles; he didn't care how or why, he just let it happen. Moments later he felt the familiar sensation of the inside of her tight wet pussy sinking down into his throbbing cock. Oh how he missed his. Had he known he could easily close his eyes and imagine her riding him the way she does, her firm ass cheeks bouncing in the perfect rhythm up and down in time to his moaning, his heartbeat, his breathing. Grabbing her by the handful, he continued to guide her up and down, watching her bounce, almost in slow motion, feeling every sensation, smelling the exchange of sexual energy, listening to the sounds they used to make; moans, laughter, silence, how wet she gets.

She turned around to face away from him. She knows exactly what this will make him do. He won't last; but he wants this. He outlined the curves of her body with his fingertips, starting at her shoulders and working his way down her spine, around her ass then back up the front to cup her tits in his hands as if he owned them, as if they were really there. He placed her nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers; amazed at how hard they became, small gems palpable only to him now; never again to another human being. Maybe he could have her forever, however he wanted, whenever he wanted. He felt his urge becoming stronger. He was ready to come, but he wasn't ready for this to end, so he lifted her hips up off of him, turned her around placed her on the bed. Grabbing her wrists together in one handful he raised her arms up above her head and spread her legs wide open with his, gently but with conviction. He knelt down to breathe in the scent of her sex, the intoxicating essence triggering something inside him; a primal instinct, fear and excitement and arousal all at once.

First tasting the delicate skin of the inside of her thighs, he slowly worked his way higher. After moments of torturous licking, nibbling, his tongue made contact with her clitoris, her second most sensitive part other than those perfect pink edible nipples. Lapping up the wetness that seeped from her pussy he expertly traced her folds in time with her undulations, occasionally sinking two or three fingers deep inside, really exploring some of the things he misses most about her sexually. He inhaled again, drinking in every moment, savoring the sweet flavors that only he knows. Everything felt so real. He could feel her muscles tensing up around his tongue and enveloping his fingers as a ripple of pleasure started inside her. She moaned loudly and tried to squirm away from him as his grasp grew stronger and her orgasm more explosive, trying to pull her back towards his face to finish what she started.

The shrill sound of his alarm startled him awake a few short hours later, only to find he was still naked, still aroused, and still in bed. A quick breeze blew past him and he heard his dorm room door slam shut. Somebody was definitely in the room with him. In his fully awakened state, the scent of his deceased girlfriend still lingered, a single strand of her golden blonde hair floated to the floor, the sound of her laughter echoing down the hallway. No way was that just a wet dream.