Séance

Our medium says, "No matter what, never break the circle."

My hand ends up in yours. Everything is going according to your plan.

The eyes of our séance leader roll back up into her head as the three of us sit around the pentagram. The candles all blow out at once as she screams in an otherworldly tone. A red glow from the pentagram covers us. This is getting pretty real.

You glance at me, your "friend," while squeezing my hand tight. Now you just have to act scared so I'll come to save you. Maybe hug you close even.

Her scream turns into a distorted old woman's voice.

"Oh my, oh my. Who do we have here?"

Cackles turn to chokes then chokes morph into words again.

"Pretty hair here didn't come for the séance."

Your hair expands as if charged with static, then abruptly yanks back, leaving you taut. You clench your hands harder to hold on.

"Oh, what a pretty face too. She spent hours on her makeup while imagining the most sacrilegious things. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk."

God, this is real. How does it know that? Can it read minds?

"Should I tell them what you daydreamed about? Your unholy desire?"

"No!"

It's going to utterly mess everything up. You can't have me find out like this. You had a plan.

A vile laughter encircles us, then quiets into a gossipy whisper.

"You see, this girl has been having naughty thoughts. She wants -

"Stop it. I'll do anything!"

"But perhaps it would be more fun if it was her who told everyone. Let's see if a little tickle can make her talk."

You drop your gaze immediately as you realize what the voice means. But you can't run from this buzzing sensation, no matter how much you want to. And holding my hand makes it ten times worse. It pulses and vibrates in a way that feels all too familiar between your legs.

At least it's not a high setting. Fuck. That's only good short term. You've got to stop it - before it gets out of hand.

"Don't listen to it. You don't have to say anything." I say, having no idea of the trouble you're in. At least I am already coming to your defense.

My voice pulls your attention back onto me against your will. You become aware of your palm starting to sweat. Making our unbreakable contact increasingly unbearable with each passing moment. Is this really the price for just holding my hand? Forget that. You've got to do something.

You try to squeeze your legs together tightly. The unwanted feeling is turning too vivid. It does not help. The clock is ticking.

"What do you want from me?"

She begins to speak in tongues - the least helpful answer possible.

It wants you to tell your "unholy desire." What can that even mean? Oh no. You recall what you were imagining while doing your makeup for tonight. Your Halloween fantasy. If you had to tell that while holding my hand, you'd die of shame. Everything would be ruined.

You catch a sound before it forms and keep it inside with all your power. This can't be happening. And that strong hand! You shamefully realize you like the feel of it. Those fingers. While all this is happening. How wrong is that?

You shake off your thoughts and whimper faintly, "I can't say it".

But your time is running out faster than you expected. The last exhale sounded way too sexual for your liking. Your mind is spinning, grasping for ideas that could turn this to your advantage. Or at least something where you still have a chance.

Your heart drops as the slightest moan inevitably slips out of your lips. It rings out louder than thunder in the silence.

But maybe it's just in your head, and I didn't hear anything.

"He heard that, you know."

Your eyes meet mine briefly, to explain. But you must squeeze them shut. A massive wave of unexpected pleasure rushes through you as our eyes lock. A tremble moves through your body. The image of my expression lingers - not judgmental, as you'd imagined, but curious. It is so rare that I pay you so much attention. But this is not the time. And squeezing your eyes shut makes you more aware of the building feeling. Then an unwanted thought bubbles up in your mind. Would the feeling double if you looked at me again?

"There goes her dirty mind again."

"No. No. No. I didn't mean to think that." It's like digging yourself deeper into a hole with every second.

"Let's urge her a bit more." The spirit threatens.

You hear buttons pop one by one on your blouse. Exposing you to me, bit by bit. The sexiest bra you had, in case a miracle happened and your plans went well. You see my eyebrows raise. Lips part. Look back up into your eyes, penetrating into your soul. But not just your soul - you feel something unexpectedly enter you. You know it's me from the way I inhale, just like in your dreams. Moving agonizingly slowly deeper inside you. Your sweaty hand tightens around mine as I slide in completely. Slowing to an intense stop, your crossed legs making you feel even tighter around me.

It feels so good. Is this wrong? Is this right? What the fuck!

"Let's bring the medium back for this." the voice interrupts.

She lifts her head, confused. We quickly avert our gaze from each other. That's it. Everything is completely fucked. And now she is going to find out too.

"Don't listen to anything it says." she urges, utterly clueless.

"Be gone, spirit!"

"Not until she answers for her sins."

The medium looks at you questioningly, her gaze putting you in the spotlight. A gasp makes you realize you've been holding your breath. She furrows her brows, puzzled. Then she mumbles something probably rude before reciting all her chants.

Slow, steady breaths. You tell yourself. Keeping your body under control is worse than holding your breath underwater. I didn't say anything - maybe I don't want to embarrass you. Pity wasn't what you were aiming for. You don't even have a spare hand to facepalm. This is literally the opposite of what you were going for. You can't let it overpower you - it's not an option. Focus on something other than how much it fills you up. Self-control! It is just like holding your breath. And you aren't even good at that. Fuck.

Then to put even more kindling on your fire, you hear a whisper:

"If you don't want him to find out about what you did with his unlocked phone, touch yourself."

Your heart skips a beat. The memory of those nudes twists new threads of pleasure through your clouded mind. If I find out... Don't even think about it. Maybe you can pretend the spirit is moving your hand. Please, please, please believe it.

You pull my hand off the table with a quick move. I don't even look. Perfect. Your heartbeat speeds up in anticipation for the next step. You pull our hands into your lap. For this, I question you with a look.

"It's the ghost," you say under your breath, only loud enough for me to hear.

Fuck. There is no way that was believable. Hiding it from the medium makes it so much worse - sharing this pretense. Like trying to hold back laughter with your friend in an inappropriate situation but times a million.

You uncertainly move our hands onto your knees, under your skirt. But to your surprise, I don't pull my hand away. You feel me move again even deeper. Jesus, how big is it?! You notice me struggling just as obviously to hold it together. If you are that obvious too... Focus!

You quickly move our hands up your thighs while you can still keep it together.

Maybe it will stop then. - you delude yourself with the only way out your foggy mind sees.

The first touch of your soaked panties makes you reconsider. You didn't think of this. You can't let me feel that. You're dripping wet. I straighten up in my seat, almost as if in anticipation. Do I want to touch you? You have to do it before I ghost fuck you again because there's no way you can take any more of me. You grit your teeth and make this final impure move. You are hyper-aware that I can feel, just as much as you, how soaking wet and hot your pussy is. Your juices flowing through our fingers.

Another inch deeper. Your mind is filled with all the sensations multiplying. You curl your toes. You want to scream at the top of your lungs.

You notice that you started rubbing yourself without even realizing. I am not pulling away. Is my hand even moving with yours, or are you going crazy? You desperately want to pull your panties aside and let it all release. It's built up like an avalanche that only needs one more snowflake. No! You can't let it happen.

"I'll tell my fantasy!"

Instant relief. I'm gone, and the vibrations stop. This feels like the wrong choice. It was so good, and now you feel empty. Too much taken away.

The medium stops her chanting. The silence waits for you.

You feel yourself blush and swallow hard. You can't believe you have to say your fantasy out loud in front of me. But it is the choice you made. If I have to find out that you have a crush on me, then I'll find out in the best way possible. You'll make this your last stand.

"Paint a picture for us. Or else it's her turn."

The medium raises an eyebrow. But you know what the spirit means. It'll be medium's turn with me.

Fuck that! You rush into battle. It's now all or nothing.

"I want to be in a tight coffin. With your weight pressing down on me." You say to me directly.

You realize you will actually enjoy this - a lot. You feel your face flush as you decide to lay yourself fully bare before me with your words.

"Breathing together. Pressing me down. Barely able to move. I feel a bulge. We are so close that it is pressing against me. Since we are buried alive, I have nothing to lose. So I say it: I've always had a crush on you. I decide to tell you everything, since it's the end. How I used to think about you - how I'd do everything to seduce you. Beg for just one kiss, though we both know I want so much more. I feel how hard you are getting. So I keep accidentally rubbing against you. I beg you to fuck me, saying it over and over. And how much I want your cock in me. How good my wet pussy would feel around you. I reach down, purposefully brushing against your cock, to dip my fingers inside myself. I bring it to your lips for you to taste. To build your lust further so you'd give in. Finally sucking my taste off of my fingers."

"Feel how hard he is for you under the table," the voice tempts you.

The idea is irresistibly hot, and you don't resist it. You continue, as if nothing is happening:

"My fingers wander their way down - your chest, your stomach, your trousers."

Your hand moves with mine under the table, to do just that.

"I trace the outline up and down. I want it so badly. As I tease the tip through the fabric, the zipper seems to undo itself. I wrap my hands around it, covering it in wetness from my own arousal. Slowly up and down. Coating the entire shaft. Your warm breaths tickle my ear. You'd grind impatiently into my hand, craving my body. But I wouldn't let you in me straight away. Since I can only enjoy this once, I want to savour every moment. Tease you to make you want me even more."

You feel my cock twitch in your hand under the table.

"I'd let you rub yourself on my clit first, teasing me too. But by now you'd have to take control because not having you in me would be torture. So desperate for you to ravage me, to take me and use me. To fill the coffin full of my voice. Then me."

"The slut's done."

But you aren't done. You want to keep going. I feel perfect in your hand. And my hand moves with yours, bringing a smile to your face. You won. Even with your plan destroyed. But you are not done - not after being left unfinished.

The candles flame back alight disappointingly, and the red glow disappears.

"I fucking quit," says the ex-medium.

Disgusted, she throws away your hand. You just said all of this out loud in front of her too. You let go of me.

She stands up, dragging her chair. Then slams the door, making you flinch.

Now it's just us.

"That was fucked up," I say.

You nod. The silence that follows is anything but empty. Your head is full of too many distracting thoughts and feelings. But there is something else too.

A thick sexual tension begins to fill the air between us. Pulling you in. Growing stronger and stronger with each second. Focusing your mind. The things we did in secret under the table. Looking into my eyes as you told me how much you want me to fuck you. Something you've only dared to dream before. You are the horniest you've ever felt in your life.

I lift you onto the table by your waist when I can't take it anymore. It's actually happening. I stand between your legs. Spreading you wide open for me. You feel intoxicated. My hands squeeze your breasts with unfiltered desire. Kisses move up your neck towards your ear. I deeply purr to you:

"I want to taste your soaked pussy, just like in your fantasy. Finger yourself for me."

Shivers run down your back. A primal state of being washing over you. You tear your panties to the side.

Your fingers squelch in and out as our tongues meet. When you lift your finger to my lips, you feel your heartbeat quicken even more. Your fingers run across my bottom lip.

"Together," I whisper.

You feel my cock rub around your hole in sync with your finger. You tremble in anticipation as you move around my lips. It is achingly hard not to try to push yourself onto me when I am so close to finally sliding inside. Feeling me at your opening, moving slowly around and around. Each little movement hurling sensations through your body. Your dripping juices flowing onto me. And it feels like a dam is about to burst. You bite your lips to keep going a few seconds longer. You need it inside you. You've earned it.

Like jumping off the edge of the world, you dip your wet finger inside my mouth. My tip moves in, sending a wave of intense pleasure through everything sensitive. Your eyes roll, and you moan for me. It feels so freeing to be loud. Every sound and movement instinctive. Now you want more. You want me to fully taste you. To suck on your fingers. To fuck deep into you.

My cock stretches you out as your flavor coats my tongue. I swallow with a groan, enjoying your taste. I thrust slow and hard into you. Again and again. So much teasing making you feel each thrust a thousandfold. My heavy breaths and groans warm your neck. They intertwine with your moans. The most erotic song to grace our ears.

You feel a tension building like a string stretching to its limits. Your higher and higher moans plucking it for release. My powerful thrusts speed up with your rhythm. The string stretching to its breaking point.

Then it snaps.

Your body explodes with all the frequencies of pleasure. Blinded. It's just pure sensation now. Euphoria. A bite on your neck. My cock twitching deep inside you. Being filled up.