The Sidecar Tales 08 Jenny 02

Idly, I thought of comparisons between my ghost-girl and our former babysitter, Sophie. They were remarkably similar in size and shape. Both were small-breasted and slender; both pale; both black-haired; both smart; both lusty and sexy; and they were both the sluttiest creatures I've yet seen on this earth.

Smiling kindly, but teasing my lover too, I said, "You remind me of Jenny, my ghost lover. It was what was written on the headstone of her grave: her single name—her birth year, 1821—her death year, 1843—and the epitaph, which was her curse-It says, 'A whore she was born; A whore she lived; A slut she died; here the slut lies until another slut cries."

I added, "Since you're a slut, like you just told me, maybe you can cry for her, so that she can be freed from her mist-walled prison."

Off to our left were the remains of the tumbledown cabin, which were mostly the stone chimney. Just to the outside left of the old chimney was the headstone and the grave, outlined in white-painted stones. Sophie read off the information, including the dates and the epitaph curse, and then stood, to look at me uncertainly.

"Tom, you weren't kidding, were you? There really was a person here, who lived back then, and who was cursed for being a slut ... like me."

Exploring a bit, she discovered a closed, weather-proofed plastic cabinet, set against the limestone wall, just past the small spring that erupted from the rock and leaked into a natural basin. Over to the right, there was a large aluminum frame, holding taut a silvered-Mylar film that served as a very good mirror.

Since my Sophie was a woman and my lover, she just had to stop there and admire herself in the reflection. So her back was turned when Jenny, dressed in modern overall jeans and a t-shirt, re-formed from mist, swayed up behind her, and casually laid her hand on Sophie's shoulder.

I think that my lover's scream could have been heard for a couple of miles, if it hadn't been immediately swallowed. She spun around, and started to yell, but then, thought better of it.

Sophie asked, "Are you Jenny?"

Jenny smiled, very warmly, as she slid her arm around me, and drew herself in to her curves, saying, "Ah am that, lady. And who be you, comin' to see me, in company with mah mortal lovah, Tom?"

Sophie sputtered, saying, "I'm his former babysitter and his lover, thank you very much, and you're not a ghost. You are as solid as I am, and that proves that my adult lover has been fooling me for months, and I don't like it!" She would have stamped her foot, if she hadn't been standing on tree-shaded grass.

Jenny smiled, and looked up at me, saying, "So this little girl does not believe that I am the haunt who so loved your man, and who has been made all but solid with his huge thrusting prick."

Jenny gestured to Sophie, and smiled wickedly, saying, "So, young one, see me thus," and she turned to mist. The coveralls and t-shirt slumped and fluttered to the ground.

So did my young girlfriend and lover, as she fell to the soft earth in a dead faint.

Jenny slid into solidity again, but this time as bare as the last time I saw her. She was still high-breasted, hard-nippled, narrow-waisted, and laughing to beat the band. She looked like instant lust on wheels, and I said so, getting a deep, wet and slurpy kiss from my ghostly girl, while my other girl lay at my feet, passed out.

I knelt, and took Sophie's pulse, which was strong. Jenny said, "Ah should be dressed, when she comes around. Let me dress from thy gift clothes. What shall I wear?"

I said, "Anything you want, but I agree, you should be wearing this world's clothes, 'cause you might have to melt away once more, to prove your point." I checked my cock's opinion, and it voted for the open mesh-lace cat-suit. Jenny misted again, and flowed into the cabinet, and re-emerged in seconds, wearing the open crotch, open butt, open back and armless garment, and high-heel sandals.

I figured that ghosts didn't need to sit down and pull on clothes, as they could just flow into what they wanted to wear. In this, I was right.

Sophie groaned, and stirred, and opened her eyes, to see Jenny, clothed like a slut in heat—nearly identical, in fact, to an outfit that she had, back at the hotel. Jenny held her up, and assisted Sophie back to her feet, where, swaying, she held onto me for balance.

Jenny said nothing, smiling and waiting.

Sophie looked at my Jenny, and said, "OK, I'm sorry. She's a ghost. Damn, I feel like such a dork."

Jenny smiled again, and moved to take over Sophie's balance needs. She said, "There is no need for such as you say. Your man was the only person in more than a hundred years not to run away when I appeared. How could his woman-lover be any less strong-minded?"

Sophie pushed back, to stand on her own, but then said, "Jenny, just this once, please do the mist thing again. Please. I've just gotta see, one more time."

Jenny said, "Thus you ask, and so will I do," and she melted away into mist, allowing the cat-suit to fall into Sophie's arms. Then my misty ghost-lover melted back into the rock and disappeared. In a few seconds, she re-appeared, and flowed over to us, and she re-inhabited her sheer cat-suit, which fitted as though it was a second skin.

Sophie croaked, "I gotta sit down," and she did that, her back against a large tree. Jenny sat down beside her, and, innocently, circled her arm around my daughter and hugged her. Sophie reacted with her own arms, and then a kiss, and I decided to take a little walk around my property, while my two lovers became better acquainted.

No, I didn't expect lesbian sex (although I didn't rule it out, either), but the presence of a man would be a drag while two very different young women—who shared the same man as a lover—became friends.

A turn to the North revealed a worry. Back two years or so ago, I'd just been able to make out the drag-line of the local coal industry machine in the far distance. Just in that two year time, it had advanced nearly to the level of Jenny's place.

Now, I was certain that she and her earthly grave were secure, because I had bought up the land, a couple of years ago, and I verified my ownership by a cell phone call to the local attorney that had handled the land sale. So the drag-line would have to move around the property that encompassed Jenny's remains, and so insure that she would remain—if not alive—than safe, as she was strengthened by regular injections of male jism, on a near daily basis, from the 'men's club' just on the other side of the limestone cliff. I knew that Jenny, in her 'mist' state, could pass through the stone and reappear on the other side, there to receive the sperm injections of one or two dozen men, all afternoon or night.

But the presence of the drag-line was unsettling, just because it was getting close, and I had uneasy thoughts of a near-miss by the giant steel shell, carving away her grave ... and thus, her existence.

After a time, I strolled back to find the two girls happily trying on the clothes that I'd left Jenny, at my stays there. Sophie, still chattering away on six topics at once, had pulled on one of Jenny's first outfits I'd given her: a flaming red set of Capri pants, and a glaring-white silk sleeveless top, French-cut (which meant that the first button was located about the level of her navel, and the second button, just a couple of inches lower). Jenny had re-mist-poured herself back into the black sheer lace cat-suit, bare-crotch and all.

As I came up on the two young women, Sophie turned and displayed the results of a prolonged struggle to get into the pants, as they were on like a second skin. Her camel-toe crotch was clearly visible, and her breasts were alternately flashing at me and being covered, as she managed to sway around the tree-shaded grass clearing.

Sophie threw her arms around my neck, and did a 50% body contact press on me, while kissing me with many slurps. Jenny watched from a few feed away, and smiling openly.

Sophie said, "Would you fuck me right now? Jenny says she's had a lot of experience, but she's never watched a lover-man make love with his young woman. Please, Sir."

Jenny said, "It be true, that I have never seen such sexing, but, if it be coming from my lover Tom, it must be good. So, I would love to see the coupling of my lover and his small girl."

I was erect. Strongly and urgently erect, as I felt Sophie's knowledgeable hands freeing my long and thick cock, which was then inserted into a loving and willing ghostly mouth. Sophie plopped herself down on a blanket, and struggled to get the skin-tight pants off. This took about five minutes of grunting and swearing, while Jenny slurped and prepped my protruding manhood to its full length.

Finally naked, Sophie reached for and handled my hard cock. In her usual graceful but demanding fashion, she guided the throbbing head into her pussy, and I sunk home into liquid female bliss, thrusting and pushing as I fucked my very-willing little woman. I looked up from Sophie's groans and thrashing pleasure, to see a very nude Jenny, with her insubstantial hand and arm buried into Sophie's body. I felt nothing, but I knew her vagina and sex organs were being stimulated and massaged with Jenny's special mix of supernatural sex.

I thrust more urgently, secure in the knowledge that Jenny would lend me sexual strength to take her, after I had filled Sophie with my flowing jism. Sophie was wide-eyed, and was screaming things like, "Fuck my steaming cunt;" "come on, fuck me, you pervert;" and 'violate my little wet cunt."

In a few minutes, I shouted and injected several million of my potential relatives into her quivering and waiting pussy, and then, gasping for air, rolled over to one side, to let my lover recover, too.

Jenny, now nude and—though a ghost—very substantially female, was holding Sophie's head and body on hers, as Sophie went through her shuddering, orgasmic aftershocks. Jenny said, "That was very special, my mortal lover. You and she are clearly mated, just as you and I are mated, as well. I think we have perhaps a chance to be a loving ... family, if we can find a way to get my spirit to travel from here. I would so very much like to share your love and thrusting penetration with my newly-found sister of the spirit."

By mid-afternoon, I had also made love to Jenny, and shot my special jism into her wanting body, as that was the direct causes of her ability to be a full-bodied woman. Jenny had screamed and orgasmed a dozen times, while Sophie watched, as my rigid organ created slurpy, sexy, spurting life.

Then Jenny had asked Sophie about her squirting, and she and her newly found spirit sister were off on a detailed and very obscene discussion of modern women's orgasmic pleasures, while I found myself back in no-man's land.

In the evening, before the light of summer had faded, I'd gone to the scooter/sidecar and dug out the supply of food and the pressure cooker. I prepared a simple meal of stew and potatoes, and Sophie and I both ate.

Jenny couldn't join us, as she had nowhere to put food, and no means to absorb it. That led to a few tears from Sophie, and some more girls'-only cuddling talk. By full night, I'd set up both hammock rigs, with sleep-quilts and pads. Sophie was asleep in minutes, and I'd thought to follow her example, except that Jenny had 'flowed' into mine, and the little hoyden was caressing me, and laughing.

Since it was night, and I could just barely hear the arrival of cars to the 'men's club' on the other side of the ridge, I asked my Jenny if she didn't have an 'appointment' for more manly 'spermal strengthening' there.

She laughed, but with an edge to it, and explained, saying, "Ah have taken some revenge upon the cold miller's wife, who ended my mortal life in this world. Her descendants are yonder, and they, over the years, learned from her and, down the years, taught their daughters how to use their men, giving up as little physical loving as possible."

"So, late one night, the descendent of that cold bitch brought herself and her three adult daughters to the 'club,' in order to frighten and shame the men away from their many pleasures with me. Thus, having met them, I flowed first into the mother and then into the daughters."

"I 'changed' them, oh, just a little. Just the smallest bit. They believed that they had control of men by giving out the greatest amount of icy-cold distain and the least affection and sexual pleasure they could, to get the most from men."

"Suddenly, they changed to knowing-for-sure that they could manipulate and control men by becoming hot and wet, and thus giving out the most affection and sexual pleasure possible. Thus, that first night, I had three 'helpers' to assist me in performing my 'loving' duties. As they manipulated and controlled their men, they were mounted and used a dozen times apiece, and I insured that they orgasmed many times and more strongly each time."

"Since then, I have had days when I never cross over through the rock, because the female branch of that family has become crazy for sexual pleasure, and each woman—very much of her own free will, I might add—has perhaps a dozen sex-starved men, three times each man, three time per week. That, ah reckon, is over a hundred cums per week into a single woman."

"Since I cannot leave the land, because of the enclosing mist-walls for me, I cannot say what their behavior is outside of here, but I have heard talk that two are divorced and the other two now have very-attentive husbands. Perhaps, some time soon, you can explain the meaning of your modern word, 'swinger.' "

I heard this narrative, and was not at all surprised, nor shocked. I said, "I remember what you said, the night I let you sink into me. You told me you'd made no changes, except for increasing my 'strength' and ability to be a better lover."

My sexy ghost said, "Aye, that I did, and I did it with a will. For you are best served to me as you are, my Tom Cattus. The tiny change I made was to insure that my lover could thrust and penetrate into his ghost girl, to give her most possible pleasure, and that you have done and do now."

She sobered a little, and added, "And, as you gave me total permission to sink into you and learn all that you had to remember, so did your daughter, this day."

My Jenny continued, "I did not change her loving and sex for you, because she truly cared for you and wishes with all her heart to be pleasured by you for many years. Thus, I did for her what I have done for you; made her response to your and my pleasuring stronger and more ... more durable, longer lasting."

Then she laughed again, and said, to my ear alone, "Of course, I have changed myself in this same way, so that our pleasuring will be long and strong ... and very loud."

I made love to my ghostly partner twice in the night, and it was long, hard ... and loud. I woke up once more, in the pre-dawn hours, to piss, and heard Sophie and Jenny making very wet, active and loud love ... or perhaps just sex. I do know that my daughter has a 'set-of-pipes' for a voice that probably should have carried over the next two counties.

When I finally struggled my old bones out of the sack—literally, from my suspended hammock—I smelled bacon cooking. Looking over to my right, I saw Sophie holding a strip of bacon, impaled on a fork. She was lighting the dangling end with the flame from a bic lighter. The fat caught fire after a few seconds, and the flame began to work its way up the strip of meat.

Cooking bacon on a fork is an art, and my young-lover had learned it from me.

Jenny was crouching down beside Sophie, and she was literally licking her lips. This was odd, because, while my ghost-girl could see, hear and touch, she had no senses of smell or taste, nor could she eat or drink. My squirted jism went directly into her body, and neither of us had figured out how she used it to become solid.

Suddenly, Sophie looked over at Jenny, and said, "Now!" Then Jenny's nude body flowed over to, and into, my teen's body. The two woman's bodies merged with one another, and Sophie's face changed subtly. Sophie-Jenny blew the fire out, and she-they ate the strip of bacon with almost orgiastic pleasure, eyes squeezed shut and body swaying, groaning with pleasure. Over a strip of bacon.

Sophie looked up at me and grinned, saying, "She hasn't had a taste or a smell of anything in a hundred and sixty years, so I thought I'd give her the opportunity. There's a few strips left. You can make the coffee, sir.

So I ate my self-cooked bacon and made coffee, which I also had the pleasure of watching my Sophie-Jenny combination sip to the last drop. Sophie was dressed in her usual jeans and t-shirt, but when Jenny separated herself from Sophie, she was wearing nothing except temporarily-sated lust. I knew that this was for my benefit, as Jenny could also appear in any variation of the clothes she wore when she was alive.

So I appreciated the sight of her, and I said so. She chuckled, and flowed over to me, gathering in Sophie on the way.

Jenny said, "This truly is your lover for only such a strong and confident one would be so ... so trusting, so confident of such as I." Nodding to Sophie, she added, "I wish that I could join with you for longer times, but ah cannot see you tied to this little piece of earth, which is all I have."

Sophie looked up, and with a quivering voice, said, "There's room in me for all of you, all the time. At least I think so." Then she looked over at Jenny, and something must have passed between them, some glance, some exchange, for abruptly Sophie peeled off her jeans and flipped off her t-shirt, while Jenny, very deliberately, flowed on and into my daughter.

I was confronted with two slavering sluts in one slavering body, and I could see the entire hundred and sixty years of lust burning in Sophie's now-possessed-of-Jenny's eyes.

Sophie lunged onto me, and ripped off my trousers. She found my still-soft cock, and she swallowed it. I started to harden instantly, as the stimulation began immediately. I was hard in two minutes, with a female mouth, tongue and throat fasted to me with a fearsome suction. Sophie, slobbering all over my erected meat, started to vocalize, and I was able to make out some of the words, even though they were muffled by being spoken around a large penis.

"This is called (suck, slurp) going down (tongue slither) or giving head (ummm, suck-lick), but I like it best when I call it a (lick, tongue slither, suck) blow job. No, I don't blow (suck, and suck again), that's just what it's called (lick, lick, drill tongue tip into cock), and he gets so hard and crazy when I do this (slurp, gurgle), he's panting now, you reach inside (suck, suuukkk, slurp) an' keep him cumming, yeah (slurrpp, around and around), yeah, he's getting ready, you'll (sucksucksuck) like this, here he comes, yeah, yeah (suck, head bob, slurp and ORGASM)"

I shot and I came and I squirted, directly into Sophie's mouth, and then I kept cumming and pulsing, and trying to squirt and cumming more and ...

A few eons later, some sex-goddess released my aching male member, and I fell back on the grass. I watched my Jenny-augmented daughter swirl the Jism I'd shot into her mouth, around and around, and then deliberately swallow it. I watched her pick up a couple of errant drops of semen with her tongue, taste the jism, and swallow that, as well. Then the two of them, in one body, caressed Sophie's breasts, and they both sat back on their heels.

Jenny separated from Sophie, to the side, and looked at Sophie with wide ghostly eyes, saying, "Ah was a whore for all mah life, an' ah loved it, and yet nevah did that nor enjoyed myself so much."

Looking up at me, Jenny said, with a wicked smile, "I like thy taste, my Thomas lover, and we will both be drinking more soon."