Ghost Train 1

Bill sat on the crowded train planning his evening after a day's work, the jostling relaxed him despite the sheen of sweat covering him in the Summer afternoon. Can I be bothered to drop by the supermarket he thought? There's never enough cashiers, it's a drag. Maybe get a takeaway, hmmm.

Bill's eyes widened as a seven-foot-tall pale-skinned woman loped straight through the carriage door, not breaking it, sliding through, like sunbeams penetrating a window. She flicked her head up and shrieked, jumping two metres and landing flat against the ceiling as though her limbs were glued to it.

Nobody looked up from their phones or even their daydreams. Long wet black hair was plastered to her head, still dripping gently on the train floor, a torn white dress clung to her, hardly covering two pale cheeks and a pair of pointy breasts.

Bill alone saw her, this was his genetic curse. He and about 1/500 people could see and be touched by ghosts. His internet research had not taught him much else. His breath caught in his throat and his sweat turned cold, he could feel his cock shrivel. Ghosts couldn't really hurt or kill you, but they could "interfere" and had a cruel sense of humour. Bill's salvation was that ghosts can't automatically tell who can see them and can only touch you once they know you're their unwilling audience.

Bill tried to remember to breathe and to act natural, should he scratch his face, Was that normal or suspicious? The sweating had not abated. The apparition was disappointed its entrance hadn't been rewarded with any reaction, it dropped to the floor and stalked down the carriage trying to make eye contact with a victim. It zigzagged down the walkway approaching Bills position, he chanced a glance at his phone. Just checking the time, act natural. It's only 60 seconds before his train arrives and he can get away from this timebomb. 'You can do this' he thought.

The ghost moved to the person opposite Bill, bearing down and glaring at a sleepy-looking Korean woman. The ghost's dress rose, her asshole unveiled and now slightly spread. Pink lips under it. This wasn't a wide train and at her height her ass was nearly face level. Bill could count the wrinkles. *THUDD*. Bill's phone bounced off the dirty train floor. She spun around, a metre from Bill, looking at him hungrily. His balls retracted in shock, she launched herself mouth first at his cock. Clothes were no more of a barrier to ghosts than walls or chains. She sucked him with the fervour only isolation and deprivation can conjure, she didn't have much to work with at this moment but after a short time lust fought off fear and Bill felt blood return to his cock and balls. She made eye contact as she sucked, a look of victory and spite.

Bill sagged in his seat, there wasn't any getting away now, he had to bargain. He mouthed discreetly "Slow down... please" she laughed, ghosts didn't need unencumbered tongues to enunciate. She kept up a vacuum grip with her mouth, slamming down repeatedly. Now with inch long nails tracing circles around our heroes' balls. Bill could feel it was inevitable, like keeping smoke in your hands. He kept his mouth closed, he had no desire to creep out his fellow commuters or worse be labelled the city's train pervert. Cum rocketed out of his cock like a Ford Fiesta blasting through a bus stop full of orphans. He shuddered and bent over. He was throbbing from tip to groin, he knew what was coming.

The bitch did not let up, she slurped with zeal, lubing his whole cock. He bucked, he couldn't help it, he hunched over hiding what was essentially an illegal erection. The Korean lady asked with concern "What's wrong man", Bill choked out "I cracked a rib last week, It hasn't set yet" The lady looked sympathetic and seemed to accept this. He knew this story would not work if the scent of semen reached her nostrils. He writhed as the spirit kept assaulting his cock head, "I'll do whatever you want" Bill mouthed at the spectre. She added ball kneading to her routine of torment.

"Anything" Bill whispered. She finally abated, releasing his cock with a slow kiss.

The ghost rose slowly and sat next to Bill, some colour returned to her cheeks. He knew he was beaten and couldn't make eye contact with her. She croaked "Take me to the cemetery".

Fin.