I Got Fucked By A Ghost Pt 08

I got fucked by a ghost 8.

After that night with John, I accepted for good that this wasn't some odd, impromptu moments of a ghost coming to get his rocks off. He had found me, taken me, and made me realize things deep within myself that I had never thought, accepted, wanted to believe, or had come to discover. These recurring sexual experiences were not just because. John was here for a reason. The more we had intercourse, the closer I felt to him. As time progressed and I continued taking his dick inside my mouth or my ass, it made me long for it further.

When I finally accepted that I was changing, I knew I needed to set a new course. I began taking steps to discover men even more. I looked up every hard cock video. Every gay seduction series I could find, every cum on my face hypno video online. The further I watched, the deeper my lust developed. I had to get out. I had to be free of my wife and start my life over. I had to take the chance to date a man. To see what it would be like to suck a real dick, where I could actually see the person, I was giving head to. To feel, see, and taste the cum he would shoot after I got him off. To be on my knees getting pounded from behind. To get cock!

As I began to accept and understand that I needed to be someone different, to try dating men, and experience love in ways I would have never imagined. As things progressed towards the inevitable, John visited me more frequently. Each time brought new experiences, new positions, deeper desires, greater enlightenment, and wild thoughts of things to come. It was as if he could read my mind or hear my thoughts. As if he knew I was beginning to need homosexuality over heterosexuality, and the more I craved it, the more he came.

After a few months of deep self-reflection and final acceptance, I sat down with my wife and told her I wanted a divorce. That I was leaving. I didn't tell her why. I didn't want her to think that "men" whom I had never dated in real life was the cause. I just explained that I felt it was time for us to go our separate ways. I didn't want her to think that suddenly, after almost 30 years of marriage, I had discovered I was gay. All signs were pointing that way, but I didn't want her to believe it was her or her lack of intimacy or sexual passion that drove me to wanting dick. Because if it were just sex or physical touch, any other woman would have sufficed. I just knew, gay or not, new relationship or not, I had to go.

I let her have the house and bought myself a nice two-bedroom condo just on the outskirts of downtown. As reluctant as I felt about it, she convinced me to let her have a second set of keys, just in case something happened to me. At least she could help if I needed it. After some taut moments, a lot of animosity, and some late-night fights, I moved out. Our court proceedings were pending, and I was on the cusp of starting my new life. John visited me almost instantly after I settled into my new place. It was like I had given him the keys, told him my new address, and he took immediate action to come over and visit me.

Countless days I found myself on my knees with his dick in my mouth, or in my ass and I reeled in the pleasure of him being there. Dozens of times, I begged the lord to let him live again, to be real, to let me see him and talk to him. I wanted his dick more than anything. Every time that cool breeze came across my face, I knew he was there. When I needed him, I called his name. When I felt the urge to have sex, I would light candles, sit naked, and even lightly stroke myself in hopes he'd be there. Just like women plan a romantic night for their lover, I planned many for him.

On most occasions, he'd show up. Id feel his touch, his warmth, his sensuality and then I'd be taking his hard dick anywhere he wanted to put it. I found myself getting fucked time and time again. This time with no fears of someone seeing me. No concerns about who was judging me, or who would catch us in the act. Soon into living alone, I discovered that I was more comfortable with him than any other woman. It seemed that day after day, I longed for him, like anyone waiting for their lover to get home so that we could be together.

Each time brought more aspirations, more desires, and more longing. I know it sounds odd to want to feel a dick sliding in and out of you, but the more he did it, and the more I enjoyed it, the better it became. I felt like a woman many of nights as he pounded my ass with his dick, making me cum just before or after he got off. The problem was, as much as I loved being with him, I needed it for real. I wanted to see my lover. I wanted to look into his eyes. I wanted to see the cum shoot from his dick and onto my face. As much as I loved our little interludes, I needed the real thing. So, I moved forward with my online searches for men. For a new lover, and it wasn't long until I found one.

The dating sites I was on were scary, especially for someone like me who never used one, let alone was on a gay dating site. I chatted with several men who were very forward. Usually just minutes into chatting with them through the app, dick pictures were coming in. It was flattering. However, I wanted something more heartfelt, authentic, compassionate, and romantic. Even though I had numerous offers to "meet at a hotel, or a hook-up," I passed on all of them. I wanted to be genuinely interested in someone, get to know them a bit, and let things unfold naturally. Luckily enough, I met Tomas.

Tomas was a mix of white and Filipino. He was just a year older than I was, very well-off, very handsome, of average height and weight, with lighter olive skin. He had a great profile and normal, fully dressed pictures. In chatting with him, I learned that he had been out since his 20s. He had been married to a man for a long time but had since divorced and was now seeking something deeper and more meaningful in his next relationship. I was very intrigued. We exchanged phone numbers and began texting and talking, developing something more in-depth than just sex or a hookup.

I was nervous, yet excited every time I spoke with him. No matter how comfortable I was with John, this was a new experience for me. He was new, and he was real. This wasn't some late-evening rendezvous with someone I couldn't see, but could surely feel. If anything were to happen with us, it would be in real life.

I pressed forward, continually pushing myself to move further than just chatting. I got to meet him a few weeks later for dinner, and I was in disbelief and a nervous wreck as I sat across from him at the dinner table. It was, in all reality, my second gay date (the first man I met went nowhere), and I was out with someone that I was interested in. Of the hundreds of profiles I read, thumb through, conversations I had and the countless unsolicited dick pictures I had received, he was the one that grabbed my interest the most.

We discussed our situations and lives, and as the evening progressed, I felt increasingly relaxed. I didn't tell him about John. I could only imagine how crazy he would have thought I was, but I did admit I had become very interested in men. He was very kind and very understanding of my interests. He completely understood my newly discovered desire to be with men and that I was going through a divorce. He didn't force any issues, didn't try to fuck me in the parking lot and was more than willing to keep talking and let things develop as they would come. I felt very comfortable driving home that night and believed I would continue talking with him.

As unusual and out of my element as I was having dinner with him, after getting in my car and leaving the restaurant, I was also very aroused and excited that I had gone on a gay date with someone I was interested in. My dick was partially hard in my pants and as much as I hate to admit it, as I drove home, I was rubbing my hand up and down over my crotch. I almost wished he would have asked me back to his place, or suggested we go and "park" somewhere dark and inconspicuous, so we could have fooled around. I do not doubt that if he would have got us alone, and the feeling was right that I would have been bent over in his car sucking him off. That's how bad I needed some cock.

Once I got home, I tried summoning John, but that night he never arrived. I laid in bed, hard, aroused and wanting dick so bad that my ass felt like it was pulsing. I knew I had a candlestick in one of the moving boxes, so I got up and found it. After climbing back in bed, I lubed it up and started ramming it in and out of my ass as I lay there naked. It wasn't as plump, real, or as sexy as I what John's dick felt like. But I needed to be filled. I went back and forth from moaning John's name to moaning Tomas' name, until I came all over my stomach. Just the mere thoughts of either of their dicks in my ass, while I laid there flat on my back with my dick hard and throbbing was enough to pleasure me beyond the norm.

I fell asleep shortly after my little self-induced pleasure, not even cleaning up the lube or candlestick that lay next to me on the bed. The next morning, while I stood at my counter, dressed in my robe, sipping my morning coffee, I felt the cool breeze slide across my back. I knew John had arrived.

I felt his arms wrap around me and his warmth along the side of my neck. My heart pumped faster, while feelings of giddiness and excitement overtook me.

"John, I needed you last night." Slipped from my lips.

I knew there would be no answer, but I also wanted him to know that I wished he had been there. I could feel his hands rubbing over my chest, where my robe left my skin exposed. I felt the pressure of his body against my back. Just like a real lover would be when they hold you from behind. My dick was starting to get hard, because there was no doubt in my mind, just like every time he had visited me before, I was about to be seduced and fucked by him.

I could feel his lips along my neck, his hands wandering all over my body, and the warmth of his love encompassed me. John untied my robe belt, and even though I couldn't see his hands doing it, when the knot was untied and the belt loops separated, I knew what was coming. John guided the robe off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. His hands glided across my hardening dick and seconds later my boxers were being lowered. I stood in awe of the situation and of the fact that I was being taken so early in the morning.

I felt John guide me away from the counter and bend me over at the waist. My arms were holding the weight of my body, and my head was lowered, staring at the floor. I felt John grab my hips. He adjusted my height and I could feel the tip of his dick at my asshole, just seconds before he slid it into me.

I gasped in pleasure as he entered me. I felt just the tip at first, but the with one long, slow push, his dick went all the way inside of me. My mouth opened, and I groaned out as he started to slide backwards to the tip again. Slowly and seductively, he slid his dick in and out of me, making my legs tremble.

As time moved on, his pumping became deeper and steadier. My dick and balls were swinging back and forth with his motion. I started moaning out like I hadn't done in a while. If any of my neighbors heard, they would have no doubt I was getting laid.

However, as loud as I was, I have no doubt they heard me saying; "Yes, John fuck me! Ram that dick in and out of me." Which, probably threw them for a loop, because I believe most of them would have thought I was straight. John pumped and fucked my ass hard for several minutes. I could not stop groaning and grunting, whimpering and chirping like a woman as his dick penetrated me deeply.

I felt like I was in heaven. This was the first time, he had me bent over a counter and I was taking his dick like a good man should. Deep, hard, and willingly. I was even completely hard, but I was loving every second of being filled with his dick. I started moaning out, "Fucking cum in me John. Fucking Cum!"

His pace increased, and his hands were pulling my hips backwards as he was pushing forwards. I knew I liked getting fucked by him at night, but this morning in my new kitchen was life changing. I knew this was where I should be, getting an ass full of hard cock first thing in the morning. I wanted to cum so bad. But I also wanted to make sure he got off first.

I reached down and started squeezing my balls, occasionally stroking my shaft. I almost didn't care if I came. I just wanted him to be pleased and make sure he got off.

"Fuck me, John! Fuck me hard." Rolled from my mouth time and time again.

His pumping increased so hard that my breathing stopped. I was almost frozen in place, my dick wasn't even hard anymore, I was just hunched over my counter, taking every inch of his hard dick. I knew he was close. His speed and tempo were something I have come to know over time. He was about to cum and I was about to receive his love deep inside of me.

John pumped hard and I felt his hands squeeze the skin along the sides of my hips so tightly, until the pumping stopped and I felt his pulsing, throbbing dick shooting his cum inside of me.

"Yes, baby. Fucking cum in my ass," spewed from my lips, as I chirped and shook as he was getting off.

When he pulled his dick from inside of me, John spun me around, slid my partially hard dick into his mouth and started sucking me. I stood there in absolute awe. My ass still wide opened and pulsing, while the shaft of my dick got harder and harder. His mouth was taking every inch of me. I couldn't see him sucking it, but I could see my shaft disappear, then reappear as he moved back and forth. And I could surely feel his tight, wet mouth around it.

"I'm gonna cum John. I'm gonna cum." I moaned out time and time again.

Seconds later I could feel my cum shooting from the tip of my dick but not see it hitting the floor. Even though I couldn't see his face or his mouth, John swallowed down every drop.

"FUCK!" I grunted out as I let go of that full, thick load.

I felt John's mouth pull away from my dick. His body pinned me against him, and he kissed me deeply. Just as he broke from our kiss, I felt his presence leave. I stood three trying to catch my breath, sweaty, naked, dick hard, with the last bit of cum oozing from the tip.

I was hooked, there was no doubt about it. Whether it was just him or the wild homosexual adventures we were having, I was loving dick. Facts are facts. I couldn't deny it anymore, and I couldn't get enough. I was changing, and I just wanted more. Each time he left, I longed for more. I needed him. I loved the feeling of his cock inside of me. I loved being on my knees with it in my mouth. I do not doubt that he had changed me. That he had opened doors up in would have never imagined, and now that I had him, most of the time, and was trying to develop something with real men. I knew that sucking dick and being fucked was the next phase of my life.

John and I had numerous interludes at my place. He fucked me a lot. I sucked his dick just about every time, but the most fascinating night was when he blew me in my car on the way home after my second date with Tomas, after Tomes and I kissed for the first time. It was wild. And I believe John was in the car watching us when I gave Tomas a blow job, and got one in return when we crossed that physical barrier. I think John was there to ensure that I got off after all the nerves and excitement of my first real male sexual experience.

There was no doubt I was becoming addicted to dick. That I was changing. My interests and desires were developing, and my lust for something so unique and different was at its highest peak. I truly began to realize I liked sucking dick, more than I ever liked eating pussy. It was all a wild ride, but one I wouldn't change for the world.

I'll tell you about my first "real man" blow job in the next chapter. But don't misunderstand me in thinking I had left John behind. That's not the case at all. John was still in my life. He was always the constant, always giving it to me when I needed it. But let me tell you, Tomas was a big part too.