I got fucked by a ghost 7.
Weeks had passed since my visit from John when he fucked me in the shower. I began to wonder if he was there to reconnect, get himself off, or open my eyes to things I had known, just never faced. On countless nights, I'd find myself masturbating like a young man in my bed, on the couch, in my home office, or my car. Almost anytime I got hard, my hand was wrapped around my dick.
Thoughts of John, gay sex, men, and cum consumed my thoughts. It was like a light switch had been flicked in my head. All I wanted to do was suck dick. I wanted to feel cum sliding down my throat. Those thoughts made me want a real man behind me fucking me hard like John had. Just like the thoughts I started to develop all those years back during my first experiences with John, now we're all so enhanced that I couldn't believe how aroused they got me.
I was always on the lookout for that cool breeze coming over me because at least I knew he was there, and I would be able to engage with him again. But day after day passed without feeling anything closely related to a cool breeze. That is, until a wild awakening in the wee hours of the morning when I was taken right on my bed as my wife slept silently next to me.
It was a dark, dreary, rainy night, and we both went to bed early. The usual routine played out, and before long, the wife was dead asleep with her magazine resting on her chest. I removed the magazine, slid her glasses from her face, shut off her nightstand table light, and settled myself in. I fell asleep rather quickly, but two hours later, I was awakened by strange echoing noises inside our room.
At first, I thought we might have left the TV on downstairs, and I was hearing whatever show was playing, but as I came to, I realized there were no lights on. There was no flickering light from the TV emanating down the hallway, and the noises continued to repeat themselves softly. It was a weird, ghostly sound, I had never heard before or since.
Now, I know this sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie, but I promise you, as I sit and tell you this, within seconds of hearing those repeating noises, a spotlight hit me. Illuminating me. The air inside my room swirled fiercely, and the room grew cooler as a breeze ran across my face. I had no doubt it was John, and he had finally returned. I felt my body being pinned down by a force I had never sensed before. The blankets lifted off my body and were tossed aside, piling up on my wife. It was as if someone had walked into our room, pulled them off me, and thrown them onto her.
The blinding light I saw dimmed, and I felt John's body pressed against mine. I felt his lips hit mine. And what may have looked like me lying there French Kissing the air was, in all reality, me involved in a deep, passionate kiss with him. I could feel the wetness of his tongue. I felt the pressure of our mouths pressed together. As quickly as that kiss came, was as quickly as I felt my dick start getting hard. Moment after moment, our heads rocked back and forth, our tongues swirled, and our passion ignited.
When I felt his weight come off of me, my pajama top was thrust upwards to my neck. His hands rubbed my skin. His mouth sucked on my nipples. As much as I feared that the wife would wake up to see some weird activities going on, I was pinned down. I was unable to move from the neck down, to resist, or even speak loud enough to wake anyone.
John was seducing me--this time, with force and assertion. I was left speechless, aroused, and more than willing to be a participant in his sexual aggression. I saw the light get brighter when John lifted himself off me, and my body was levitated off the mattress. While hovering in the air, all I could do was turn my head. I looked down, and even though I was probably only about 12 inches off the mattress, it felt so high that as I looked down upon my wife, she seemed to be several feet away.
I felt my pajama bottoms being pulled off. My underwear followed suit seconds later. My legs were forced open, and I felt John's hands on my skin. John's mouth encompassed my dick. I felt the wetness slide all over my shaft as he started bobbing up and down over it. I was held in this position, hovering over my bed, naked, getting my dick sucked, all while I felt the spiritual, pervasive presence unlike anything else I had ever felt before. My asshole tingled, and my dick was harder than I could have ever imagined. I was absolutely loving being manhandled and receiving the blowjob I was getting. Just as John started lowering me onto the bed, the illuminated light dimmed.
As soon as my back rested down on the mattress, I felt John's body crawl up onto my chest as if he were sitting on my ribs. My mouth popped open by force, and his hard dick was rammed into it. I laid back, frozen, motionless, as he face-fucked my mouth with his thick dick. I was being forced to give head, all while my wife lay clueless, asleep next to me. I couldn't believe then, just as I don't believe now, that she did not wake up to see me naked, my dick sticking upright, firm, hard, all while my mouth was open looking like I was ready to suck cock. But she didn't, and truthfully, I almost wished she would have so that she could have seen the pleasure I was getting in giving John a blow job as he hovered over my body. Not that she would have seen John, because I never saw him. But the impression would be there.
When John pulled his dick from my mouth, I felt his body edge down off of me and onto the mattress between my legs. With great force, my legs were thrust up onto my chest, with enough momentum that the top of my head struck the headboard. I felt John push my legs out slightly sideways, and before I could even get acquainted with this position, his dick was deep inside my ass. This time, he pushed in with such power that I felt pain and discomfort.
