A Naughty Little Ghost Story

Julianne stepped out of the bath. Wrapping a towel around her naked body, she glanced at her phone sitting on the bathroom counter. It was 11:52 pm.

In exactly eight minutes it would be midnight, marking the one month anniversary of when her beloved twin boys, Mark and Matthew, suffered the fatal accident claiming their lives.

One month ago, it was her thirty fifth birthday, the first one since her divorce, making her believe the boys would go all out to make her birthday special. She was not to be disappointed as they took her out to dinner at an expensive Italian restaurant where she drank copious amounts of wine.

After dinner, both boys took turns slow dancing with her on the intimate little dance floor the restaurant featured while praising her on how beautiful she looked.

Julianne went all out in making herself look attractive for her birthday dinner with the twins. She took pride in her appearance and to the boys their mother was simply the most beautiful, the most alluring creature on all of God's green earth.

Even at the age of thirty five she possessed a flawless, bronzed complexion complemented by a Slavic face that managed to be both pretty and serious all at once. Her hair was like a loom of golden blondish brown silk sweeping down just past her shoulders, but it was her body that was the real show stopped. Her statuesque figure, five seven, one hundred and thirty three pounds was all muscle and supple curves with the boy's favorite curves being a pair of perfectly sculpted 36D tits.

Their next favorite curve was the heartwarming one her mouth made when it smiled at them, showing off a set of pristine white teeth hidden behind a set of soft blossom pink lips. All these exquisite physical gifts were accompanied by a bubbly playful personality that she saved especially for her beloved twin boys. The triangle of love formed between the mother and her twin boys was, as she once described it, "the most powerful force in the universe."

Back at home, her perfect evening continued unabated as they presented her with a pair of lavish gifts: a huge teddy bear with the real gift being the luxurious diamond studded necklace wrapped around the bear's neck. She almost fainted with pure joy from the gifts.

It was just about eleven thirty when they retired to the den to enjoy the last half hour of her birthday. She was still dressed in her formal evening wear, reluctant to actually take it off after all the lovely compliments her adorable twin boys paid her in how she looked in her new dress.

She was sipping on yet another glass of wine, by now Julianne was happily intoxicated, as the three of them sat side by side, with her in the middle, on the sofa, enjoying a bit of small talk when Mark suggested a fitting conclusion to their evening: an official birthday back rub from the both of them.

It only took them a good minute or so after she first demurred about them giving her a back rub before she caved and agreed it sounded like a pretty good idea.

Excusing herself, she went upstairs to her bedroom to change out of her nice dress and into something a bit more comfortable.

Hurry Mom," they both admonished her as she started off upstairs. "We only got like twenty minutes left of your birthday."

"Sure boys. I'm just going to take my dress off and throw a robe on and then I will be right back down."

"OK we will be in the den waiting for you..." Mark told her before Matthew added, "With a nice fire going to keep you warm during your backrub."

"Sounds good boys. We don't use that old fireplace enough anyways," she told them, secretly thrilled they decided to give her the backrub in the cozy den with its old fashioned real wood burning fireplace.

Five minutes later, dressed in her nicest white satin robe, Julianne entered the den.

Up until this point, the boys had been getting along famously, which, in all honesty, was highly unusual. The norm for them, ever since they were little and continuing now even as they reached the ripe old age of eighteen, was for them to fight tooth and nail for her attention, but not tonight.

But that all changed when directly after Julianne entered the den, Matthew told her, "Look Mom we have been having a discussion. The bottom line is this... neither one of us is content anymore to share you. You need to pick one, and only one of us, to give you your birthday back rub."

"Really boys... you have been doing so good in sharing your mother all night so why only now is there suddenly a problem?"

Doubling down on what Matthew just told her, Mark added, "Look Mom, you have to make a decision because when it comes to back rubs, two, not three, is the ideal number... one person giving the back rub and one person receiving the back rub."

They both fell silent now, waiting for her to make an impossible choice by choosing one of them over the other.

Trying to dissuade them once more, Julianne said, "Oh come on guys, can't you share. I don't wanna have to choose. One of you will end up getting hurt."

"Well, how about the one you don't pick will get to give you next year's backrub on your birthday," Matthew suggested.

"Sure, that sounds good to me," Mark agreed as they both turned to her.

"Yeah right, sounds good now to the both of you but I can guarantee whoever I don't choose they won't be happy about having to wait a year for their turn. Really guys I don't wanna be put on the spot between having to choose between the two of you."

"Well that will be just too bad for the loser. I'm game," Matthew told her.

Julianne thought about protesting some more but for one simple fact--she wanted her backrub. She was just thinking about how she might try and convince them to share, when she hit upon an idea allowing her not to make a choice.

"Look I have an idea. I think it perfect considering the way you two always are wanting to compete against each other."

"Sure, let's hear it," they sang out in unison.

"How about this... if I'm going to be truly comfortable getting my back rub stretched out on the rug in front of the fire, I am going to need a pillow. Also, I think my back rub would be better if whoever ends up giving it to me uses some of my coconut oil as it feels really good on the skin. Now I have an older bottle of coconut oil in one of my night stand drawers and a new, unopened bottle in the other nightstand so what propose is simple. I will count to three and then you will both go dashing off upstairs where you will both grab one of the two pillows off your mom's bed and one of the bottles of coconut oil out of each of her nightstands and then whoever can get down here to the den first wins the right to give me my back rub."

They both smiled; they always enjoyed competing against each other.

After they both agreed she added one thing. "I will only agree though if the winner is both gracious and humble in his victory and the loser does not pout and try to make his mother feel guilty. Agreed... and I am serious about this. You must agree to that or forget the whole thing totally."

They glanced at each other briefly before they both nodded their head in agreement.

The contest started out just fine with Julianne starting the race with the traditional ready, set, go. They both went dashing off upstairs, side by side. Upon reaching the bedroom, Mark enjoyed a slight lead.

Dashing over to nearest nightstand on the right side of her bed, he fairly ripped the drawer open before grabbing the new unopened bottle of coconut oil. Turning to the bed, he tore one of the pillows off from under the covers before streaking off out of her bedroom with Matthew, having done just about the exact same thing as his brother, hot on his heels.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Mark still had a slight lead on his brother and this was when the terrible tragedy happened. In a desperate attempt to pull even with his brother, Matthew reached out from behind, snagging his brother's arm tightly just as they reached the top of the stairs.

Mark cursed at his brother before trying to violently shake off his clutching hand but lost his balance. In a vain attempt to keep from tumbling down the stairs, Mark grabbed a hold of his brother. They both ended up plummeting down the steep stairs, still locked in mortal combat--to their death.

Julianne was beside herself with grief as she knew, ultimately, this tragic accident was her own stupid fault.

After her bath, Julianne entered the bedroom at nearly midnight, determined she must do something to honor their memories. Heading over to the small bar stuck in the far corner of her spacious bedroom, she poured herself a glass of wine while trying to figure out exactly what to do.

She stood there, dressed only in her towel, sipping on this first glass of wine, trying to figure out the best way to honor their memories when it hit her.

Holding the wine glass up, she whispered to the empty bedroom, "Maybe I should finish this off, quickly and then have about two or three more so I can get happily drunk like that night."

When the empty bedroom failed to respond, Julianne whispered an answer for them, "Sounds like a capital idea."

Bringing the glass of wine to her lips, she polished it off in two large gulps before refilling it.

Now what else can I do to honor their memory, Julianne mused to herself as she crossed the room to her dresser drawer meaning to replace her towel with one of her boring old nightshirts but just as she reached her dresser and was opening one of the drawers a fresh idea, maybe inspired by the wine, hit her. Slamming the drawer shut, she pulled open the next drawer just under it.

Her idea was simple. She would put on the exact same underwear she was wearing under her dress, and still had on under the robe after she took the dress off for the ill-fated birthday back rub she never received. It seemed only fitting.

She pawed through her panties and bras until she found the underwear in question. After slipping the tan long line bra on, and the matching tan panties, she donned the same white satin robe she was wearing on that night. To make the circle complete she also slipped on her nice pair of sexy black sandals with their four inch heels--the same ones she wore to dinner that night.

She had no real idea of why she was doing all of this other than it just seemed, somehow, the right thing to do.

After donning her underwear, she steadily sipped her glass of wine before heading over to the bar to refill the glass yet again.

Once her glass was full, she grabbed an old photo album out from the closet and settled herself down on the bed, planning on taking a stroll down memory lane.

The memories of seeing her beloved twin boys when they were younger, and still very much alive, stirred up a whole batch of bittersweet pain for Julianne. Sadly, as a sort of punishment maybe, she welcomed the pain.

After about twenty minutes of flipping through the pages of the photo album, she finally had endured about all the pain she could bear. Slamming the album shut, she tossed it onto the nightstand before climbing to her feet.

Sitting on the nightstand next to her was her still half full glass of wine. She had managed to polish off about two and half glasses of wine in little over forty five minutes and was now officially, and unhappily, drunk.

Knowing this self-flagellation of purposefully inflicting painful memories on herself as a form of punishment, was not at all healthy, Julianne decided to give herself a break. Reaching over the popped a valium into her mouth from the bottle she kept on her bedside. After washing it down with the balance of the wine she laid back on her bed trying to relax, hoping between the wine and the valium she would be able to escape from her painful memories and get some sleep.

A few minutes later, she had been dozing, she awoke with a start. She had been dreaming of them. Shaking her head, she headed off to her bathroom to go tinkle and brush her teeth before going back to sleep.

Julianne emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later to find her bedroom dark. This was more than a little unsettling considering both lamps on either of the nightstand were on previously to her heading off to the bathroom. Now the only light in the bedroom came from a trio of flickering candles spaced throughout the bedroom with one each on her nightstands, and a third on top of her dresser.

Her first thought was someone broke into the house but that proved to be a futile theory when she whispered to herself, sure an intruder who breaks into a woman's house and lights candles.

The thought almost made her laugh out loud before she spotted them. In each of two dark corners on the far side of her spacious bedroom was a pair of dark figures, one in each corner.

Giving a little cry of surprise, Julianne took a step forward trying to focus her vision. "Who is there?" she said in a hoarse whisper.

There was no response as she continued to stare, her eyes flickering from one corner to the other. She smiled faintly and began to relax once she realized the "figures" were nothing more than a pair of ominous, dark shadows.

Not surprisingly her eyes were playing tricks on her considering the liberal amount of wine she consumed, followed up by the valium. Add in the dark flickering shadows cast by the three lit pillar candles and she was simply spooking herself over some silly shadows.

But then it hit her... the shadows were cast by the flickering light of the candles which brought her back to the question: who lit the candles?

As she stood there, stock still-- like a deer caught in headlights-- one thing was becoming more certain than ever--she was not alone in her bedroom anymore.

Her "dark, ominous shadows' excuse for the now shifting figures in the corners had been nothing more than a lame attempt to explain the unexplainable.

As the figures grew more distinct, she could definitely see they were human like in form, but beyond that... nothing was certain.

Like an open handed slap in the face, panic struck her then. She began to stagger drunkenly in her high heels across the bedroom, toward the bedroom, meaning to escape.

As she lurched clumsily across the bedroom in her heels, she made it a point not to look into either of the corners playing host to her unknown visitors. Instead, she focused all her attentions on her bedroom door and escape.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, she reached the door and was just wrenching it open when suddenly she felt them upon her. Before she could slip out of the door, it was slammed shut with a loud bang.

She let out a little whimper when the door banged shut, and then a louder one when she felt a pair of hands, icy cold, grip both of her upper arms-- just below the short sleeves of her robe-- simultaneously.

"Stay and play with us, Julianne," one of them whispered quietly in her ear. Its voice was soft and soothing, and even through the wine and valium induced haze, seemed familiar.

But no that was impossible... Julianne closed her eyes fighting off a bout of tears. If she was to be real honest with herself, the voice, it sounded like Mark's.

A second whisper then came, even softer, but just as ominous. "Yes, stay and play with us, Mommy. Give yourself over to us..." This voice, this second quiet voice, impossible as it was, sounded like Matthew. Of her two twins, Matthew had always been the sweeter of the two. Moreover, he still, from time to time, called her, "Mommy".

She snapped her mouth shut, not daring to speak and betray her fear by a weak quivering voice. All she could make out in the murky darkness, barely any of the light from the three candles penetrated the darkness over by the door, was a pair of indistinct, misty figures.

At this point, her best description of the two figures might have been they were like a pair of shadows with some sort of vague substance.

Julianne squeezed her eyes shut tighter at the sheer impossibility of what was happening. Too fearful to resist, or maybe too inebriated on the valium and wine, maybe both, she leaned heavily back against the bedroom door, waiting to see what might happen next.

A few bare seconds passed before she felt the tie holding her robe shut coming slowly undone. Automatically, she tried to move her hands up in self-defense, but her movements were sluggish and weak at best.

Working in tandem, each of the shadowy figures used one hand a piece to pin her own hands back against the door.

"Don't resist us," the voice, the one sounding vaguely like Mark, hissed harshly in her ear.

Julianne attempted a response but could only come up with a muted, inarticulate cry. She attempted to relax, maybe they would not hurt her if she didn't resist, but when she felt her robe finish coming undone, and then being slipped off of her body, panic again set in.

Screwing up all her courage she had left in her, Julianne reacted almost violently as her robe slipped off her body. Flattening her hands against the door, she used them to propel herself forward. She managed to stagger forward away from the door just a few feet, thinking she might be able to twist away from them before she felt both of her wrists being gripped concurrently, by those damnable cold hands, before she was flung backwards.

Her back smacked into the bedroom door with a loud thud as her attackers used both their hands, one each around her wrists, the other around her upper arms, to pin her helplessly against the door.

Julianne pretty much gave up when her little gambit failed. Now utterly at their mercy, the will to resist draining from her body, she fell limp against the door. They were simply too strong and too aggressive, while she was too weak and too intoxicated. Any further attempts at resistance, she knew would be futile at best, and maybe dangerous, at worst.

Again she shut her eyes, waiting for the worst to happen; the worst turned out to be not so bad.

A tender whisper in her ear, it was the one sounding like Matthew, implored her to, "Stay still and relax and we promise to be gentle."

Julianne finally found her voice and was able to speak, if only a single word, "Promise?"

There came not one, but a pair of whispered responses to her question, one in each ear. The responses, if they were to be believed, would set her world on fire. "Yes, we promise... Mommy."

Mommy!! Could it be them?

She tried to reason it out. Tried to consider the possibility of these spirits, or these beings, or whatever the hell "they" were might be, were her beloved twins returned to her, but her thoughts, thanks to the valium kicking in fully now, combined with the wine, of course, made her thoughts all fuzzy and warm like.

Unable to think clearly, Julianne sighed once as she felt their icy hands both floating up and down her bare arms. "Mommy... call me that again. It reminds me when... you were... young."

"We will," the Matthew like voice responded.

Julianne then admonished herself, sealing the deal. No, it's not a Matthew like voice, it is Matthew... and the other is Mark!

With this incredible fact firmly established in her mind, Julianne was able to relax a bit.

Then the other voice, Mark, whispered in her ear, "We just want to play with our Mommy. Will you let us?"

"Play?" Julianne whispered.

"Yes, pretty please, Mommy," Matthew whined in her ear while reaching up to stroke her face with one finger, sending a chill up her spine.

"Yes, you must let us play with you, Mother." It was Mark again. Just as they used to when they were alive, they were tag teaming her when they really wanted something. "We came back... to you... from such a long distance... to play. Will you let us play?"

Any fear she might have had was slowly dissipating, being replaced by a growing sense of excitement not wholly innocent as they continued to work their cold, soft hands up and down her bare arms.