The Erogenous Zone S01 E07 - I Lust U2

Twilight Zone-like music plays...

Narrator :

Modern media portrays ghosts as vengeful and restless spirits of hatred or loving guardians of survivors. But isn't it possible that any sufficiently strong emotion might be prevent a spirit from departing this world?

Enter Andy Connor and Simone Adair. A couple in name only, who have a relationship that is at once disposable and eternal. A relationship that may not be the most difficult part of their story to explain but will certainly draw them both into...the Erogenous Zone.

Twilight Zone-like music plays...

I hate funerals. I don't really mind dead bodies or paying last respects, but I never really know what to say to everyone else.

"How did you know Simone?" I can't really reply that we were once a month fuckbuddies, can I?

"Were you two close?" Geez. I knew exactly how to tease her clit to make her cum hardest, but had no idea what her favorite movie was.

"What's the nicest thing she ever said to you?" For Real? How about 'You get the best hard-ons after I lick your ass'? I thought that was pretty nice, but again not really what I expect people will want to hear.

Her mother asked me what I remember most about her. I said "She had such a caring spirit". By now you know that's probably not an honest answer.

People should be allowed to remember their dead in any way they like. Who am I to impose my memories of Simone on everyone else? I doubt very much that most people knew the Simone that I knew...and likewise I doubt I knew her like they did.

I stood in the short line to view the casket and see her one last time, wrapping myself in a cloak of seeming-bereavement more so people would let me be than any real sense of loss.

Staring at her...at her body. I can't convert to calling it a corpse. How often did I feel those breasts so warm and firmly soft? Cover that neck with passion? I remember that mouth, now sewn shut, and the auditory excitement her voice would evoke. Even now the memory of her is turning me on. Christ, I'm getting horny just looking at her...body...corpse...corpsebody.

Her eyes! A brilliant green that's mirrored by the eyeshadow she's wearing now. I once made her look me in the eyes as I made her orgasm. If ever I could see a vision of an angel coming that was it, so deeply did I see her.

And I had no idea if she'd had brothers or sisters...until just today.

I rise from kneeling and have a brief moment of light headedness. My eyes swim blurrily and I have a dreamlike moment. You know in a dream two things that are opposite can exist in the same space? A door can be open but closed? In that moment her eyes were forever closed, but she winked at me.

I shook my head to clear it and found a seat toward the back of the room to await the start of the remembrance ceremony.

The room was crowded. Simone was popular and her death at a young age drew "tragedy" worshippers by the dozens. A series of people stood at the podium and put forth their visions of Simone and her life.

My own eulogy for her...should I have wished to do so...would sound something like this:

"Simone and I had a date once. Just once. As dates go it wasn't anything special. Certainly not my best effort. We didn't connect on many things and we never seemed to "click". Despite that, and according to some mystic formula that only women understand, we slept together anyway. Apparently we saved up all our chemistry for this.

After that, on the third Friday of every month at exactly 8pm, Simone would knock on my door. She never called...we never planned in advance...never talked or texted...but I'd open the door and she'd stun me with a frenzy of passion...frantically kissing and undressing and before I knew it we were madly fucking. On the floor, against the door, even out in the hallway once. Every time it was a totally uninhibited sexual assault.

We'd spend the next 36 hours in a constant state of eroticism. Even when we weren't physically having sex, we were dancing on the borders of it. Touching, playing, teasing...connected. We never left my apartment, never even got dressed. We wowed our share of pizza delivery guys for certain!

We'd fuck for hours. We'd sleep only when we couldn't fuck anymore. Then she'd wake me up with her mouth on my cock or her tongue on my anus and we'd fuck again.

At 8am Sunday morning she would get dressed...by then I'd gotten so used to her nudity that seeing her slowly cover her body would inevitably make me hard. She'd walk to me, pull me close by my cock and grab my eyes with her greengreengreen beauties. She'd give me one chaste kiss and walk away...trailing her hand on my cock behind her so her last touch was a finger on the very tip.

Then silence until the next third Friday of the month. That's the Simone that I knew."

Of course, I'd probably have to word-smith that a little...get it down to under two minutes. Don't want to be the guy who drones on too long like this guy right now.

To this day I don't understand her. Maybe we're not supposed to understand some things. I will miss her though...I mean, the sex was Oh My God amazing, but she filled up another need too...something I'm not ready to examine in myself yet. Something primal and dark and...

I really feel a sense of Loss. Maybe for the first time I think she's REALLY gone. I'm hurt.

Then in the middle of that pain, I feel a slight tickle on my anus. A creepy feeling like a bug crawling. I clench up to make it go away but it won't. It's a little stronger now...less like a bug and more like a fingertip. I shift uncomfortably...what the heck?

It's getting warmer...wetter...I jump up and look at the seat. Dozens of pairs of eyes on me as I head for the the back of the chapel. As soon as the door closes I reach for my ass. The feeling has stopped...I don't feel anything with my hand. No wetness...no object or bug or whatever. Nothing.

My hands are shaking. I don't want to say it, but I have to admit it felt just like Her tongue. Wishful thinking? Suppressed memory? Psychotic break? Wait...you were having a real moment of grief and then it happened...probably just that. Grief. Calm the breathing.

Back to my seat...but there's now a girl sitting next to it. I nod as I sit down and she smiles slightly back. She's cute...youngish...close to my age I'd guess.

"Are you Andy?" She whispers.

I know I've never met her before, still I whisper back "Have we met?"

"Not in person. I'm Darcy...but it might mean more if I tell you I'm the first Friday of every month."

I can't hide my shock.

Darcy and I sit in silence for the rest of the ceremony. We leave in silence together. Back out in the sunshine of the August afternoon I simply ask "Lunch?"

"A drink?"

"Better. Shades of Green?"

"Appropriate."

Just a few blocks away is a neighborhood bar called Shades of Green. It's Irish, but Simone's eyes...well, you get it.

Once settled, drinks in hand I started. "You seem to know about me, but She never mentioned you."

"I know. I don't think she ever meant to, but she used your name once...in the heat of the moment. Her 'punishment' was that she had to tell me something about you and her."

"Clever. I was never able to get Her to tell me personal stuff by any means. I once tied Her to the bed and teased for 6 hours orgasm-deprived to try and find out what She did for a living. Unsuccessfully."

"Yeah," she chuckled "that's Simone. Private like you wouldn't believe. So she'd spend the whole third weekend with you?"

"Yeah. In my apartment for 36 hours exactly. 8pm Friday to 8am Sunday. You?"

"Same. Drinking, getting high, fucking. God I miss her already. For two people who were so intimate, I really knew so little about her."

"Same. How did you deal with it?" I asked.

"Told myself that it was just fun...just playing around. That I didn't need to be with her. That it was just sex. Amazing, mind-blowing sex, but just sex. How could I feel more? I didn't know anything else about her. How about you?"

"I didn't. Deal with it. I loved Her, I think I loved Her, but I knew if I told Her that she'd probably never come back so I took what I could get and tried to be happy with it. Didn't work, except for 36 hours month. Then I was alive."

She nodded her head in silence. I didn't expect her to say anything. When she did break the silence it was to exercise her own form of escape..."Excuse me...I'll be right back."

It's funny...We're starting off a lot like I did with Simone. We don't have much in common, but there is something there. Darcy and I have a very specific experience that nobody else in the world shares...and I found myself thinking that if Darcy needed consolation (and if she goes both ways) maybe we could spend some time together...maybe we could spend 36 hours drinking, getting high and...

I got that "creepy" feeling again. This time it's on my cock and not my anus. The "crawling" quickly became the "warm/wet" feeling. Fuck! This isn't possible. My cock is getting hard and pressing tight against my slacks but the tip feels like it's in Her mouth. And it's moving! How can I feel like I'm getting a blowjob with my pants on?

But it does...and when the warm/wet gets to the very bottom of my shaft it spreads down and engulfs my balls. My cock head feels the constriction of Her throat at the same time my balls feel Her tongue teasing them and there's tight sucking pressure over all.

Then it slides up until it's only on the tip and the sucking sensation it doubled...tripled. Blood rushes into my cock and the restraint of my trousers compounds the sensation.

It slides back down again. Cock, balls, back of the throat and tongue sensations again. It's not a feeling a human mouth could ever create, but it's the most amazing intense oral sex I've ever had!

Quickly, I'm coming. Hard. Instinctively I grab for the back of Her head to push it down on my cock and make her swallow but my hand finds only my crotch. My cock fires warm surges of come into my underwear and the warm/wet which my futile hands cannot feel.

I'm breathless when Darcy returns.

"You OK? You look..." leaving a question at the end.

"I don't know what's happening." I'm shaken. That can't have happened. Nothing about that is possible. Even grieving won't explain THAT. "I think I have to go."

"Yeah, OK. But hey, here's my number. If you need to talk or...Anything. Well, let me know."

I'm not an idiot, I know what Capital A anything means. I took her number and gave her a brief smile on the way out.

----

It's been a week. Nothing inexplicable has happened except my unwillingness to call Darcy and that seems to be something I just can't do. I'm obsessing about Simone and freaking out about what happened. There's no rational solution. 'when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains however unlikely, must be true.'

I don't even want to admit to myself what that might really mean. I'm still scrambling through every other possible explanation. For the eighth time this week I picked up my phone and looked at Darcy's number. I wonder if she's having the same experiences I am? But I can't call her with this...she'll think I'm crazy. It will probably kill any chance I have of getting with her. Fuck it. I've got to talk to someone.

Just before I hit the Call button I can feel the air grow denser. There's a scent of something sweet and clean yet musky arising from somewhere/everywhere. It's a smell I know so well because I've spent hours with it in my nostrils. It's the unmistakable smell of Simone's excited pussy.

I scramble out of the bed, terrified. Wild eyes searching for something to latch on to...desperate for physical proof that this isn't just happening in my mind. I want the blanket to fly off the bed or a picture of my ex to be hurled across the room and shattered...I'd even settle for a cross turning upside down, but there's nothing. Not even the silken sad uncertain rustling of a purple curtain. I should get out. I should run out of the room, but like a good little horror trope, I back into a corner.

I feel her hips pressing against mine. Sweet, sweet pressure and the slightest gyration. Simone would dance like this with me, letting only our hips touch. Her arms would twine sensuously overhead and her back would arch, pressing her breasts forward. Quick as a serpent she'd slap my hands away if I tried to touch her...then she'd waggle her finger at me with a mischievous eye.

The pressure against my hips now felt the same. Subtle, rhythmic, purposeful. A sudden shift from my hips to my shins reminded me of Simone's booty drop, and it moved over my knee and up my leg just like she would, pressing her heated V into the strong, wide muscles of my thigh.

By the time the pressing has returned to my hips my cock is hard and tenting my boxers. As the pressure move up my hips it flattens my cock against my stomach...then as it moves back down it presses on my cock from above, forcing it straight out, then down until the pressing suddenly releases and my cock bounces up. Again and again...and it feels like her pussy! It's hot and wet and wrapping around about half of my cock on every stroke and I feel that warmth on the inside of my boxers!

My mind is scrambled. I don't know if I should run away screaming or reach in and let myself grab the orgasm that's starting to build. Before I can sort it out, the pressure reaches its latest upward high point and keeps going. Across my abdomen and chest. Simone at her most athletic (and I did fuck her in a deep gymnast's backbend once) could never have gotten herself that far up my body.

The warm/wet pressure was suddenly against my nose and mouth. It's rocking gently but suffocating. My hands try to push it away but like before my hands are useless. There's a moment when the wet/warm slides up over my nose that I grab an urgent breath before it's smothering me again.

It's pressing harder and moving faster now but not giving me another chance to breathe. I'm desperate, so I stick out my tongue and it feels the shape that would have been the entrance to her. I circle my tongue because I know this always made Her come. The warm/wet drives my head deep against the walls of the corner before violently shuddering...then it fades.

I sag down to the floor, pulling in ragged breaths and coughing. My face should be coated with her come, but it's dry. The room is full of the smell of her and my cock is still steel hard...but I have no sense of her being there.

I believed it in that moment. I still don't think I accepted it, but I believed it. I'm being haunted by Simone's ghost.

---

Did you know there is a link between Sorrow and Obsession? I hadn't felt Simone's presence for nearly two weeks and it's was driving me mad.

I'd spent most of those days researching ghosts. Spectral energy, ectoplasm, history of mediums and way too many Ouija board myths. As with most good pseudo-science it's hard to separate what's probably true from what you want to be true.

I read everything.

Fakes and frauds, mental health explanations, trauma ghosts. Demons disguised as loved ones. The afterlife, the beforelife, reincarnation and the Great Wheel.

And the "proof"! Grainy videos, countless investigators whipping their heads around asking "What was that?". Laughable in their attempts to catch a glimpse not of the spectral, but of the limelight of near-mainstream media. None of it satisfied my curiosity. None of it sated the deep desire that is empty inside me...that deep desire Simone filled so completely. That desire for...

What? What did she give me?

Energy. Living energy. Simone made me feel alive. I recognize the irony of continuing to seek that from her death.

I'm not a spiritual person, not religiously nor philosophically, but through all the fog there is one tenet that rings true to me. In the spirit world, Belief is king.

I Believed Simone and I were connected through our lust for each other. I Believed I could use that to contact her. Today was the third Friday of the month.

I tried to summon Simone's ghost.

I failed.

I'm sitting on a chair, surrounded by a chalk star within a chalk circle in my living room. The chair was placed in the exact spot Simone last held my cock by its tip as she walked out the door. I'd spoken the summoning, commanded her to appear. The spiritual door stayed locked. Nothing but the sharp scent of foolishness filled the room.

Darcy was right. It was just sex. How could I have told myself it was anything more?

Because it was! My Sorrow...my Obsession! These must mean something. I had a place inside me that was empty and she filled it...like a puzzle piece fit into it's mate. Each is a complete thing, but with that one connection they became something larger.

Wait...maybe I was the male puzzle piece. Maybe I filled something in Simone! And a lock needs a key...maybe she's been trying to tell me something,

I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. When I was with Darcy in the bar I felt a ghostly blowjob, so I started to imagine...no, to remember the feeling of my fingers tangled in Simone's hair as she went down on me. She loved sucking me. Teasing and playing until I would grab her by the hair and force myself deep into her mouth. I held her there long seconds past when her breath ran out just to hear her gasp when I let her up. It was a perverse sort of power I had.

But that power didn't seem to matter now. I felt no coalescing presence! But it felt like the right answer...

With a sudden rush I realized what I'd done wrong. Leaning back and closing my eyes once more, I remembered the first time I felt Simone's tongue on my ass. She held my knees to my chest, then started with my cock. I was nervous...uncertain, but she licked her way down my shaft. Pausing to gently suckle on my balls before teasing lower still. Then the hardened tip of her tongue lightly...ever so lightly...circled my anus.

Suddenly the air grew denser!

Quickly I shifted my memory to her first blowjob. Simone on her knees with her head bobbing furiously...assaulting my cock and clearly enjoying herself with little or no regard to me. I didn't mind.

Something was building inside me. My skin tingled. I felt...open. Like that feeling you get standing on the edge of a cliff...you know that you can't step off the edge, but the vastness of the open space calls to you, it almost pulls the soul out of your body.

I stepped off the edge.

The first time I went down on Simone was instinctive. I didn't do it because she expected it or as a tit-for-tat or because I wanted her to think I was cool. I was truly lost in a moment of admiring her body, and that admiration found its way between her legs and lingered. Savoring and exploring. I'd forgotten everything I'd read or thought. I just enjoyed her...and in enjoying her selflessly, we found our way to her orgasm.

I fell out of the chair, arms spread wide on the floor. I could feel Simone...but not on my skin. I felt her in my body...overlaid on top of my own self. Energy. Energy was moving all through my body. My cock was erect and pointing straight upward, held by a feeling as warm as the palm of Simone's hand...and at the same time I felt my hand curl around the hot hard shaft.

I felt pussy slide down cock.

I felt cock slide into pussy.

Our brains are not wired to accept the opposite input. Mine revolted. I felt this incredible pressure inside my head, like every part of my brain was active. I stopped trying to process the sensations. They flowed over me and wrapped around me. I looked into a mirror in my mind's eye and saw Simone starting back at me.

We fucked. Both of us. Using my one body.

My arms and legs flailed about. My hips alternately arched and slumped. To an outsider it would have looked like I was, well, possessed.