The Not-So-Vengeful Spirit

Not for the first time today, Jason bemoaned agreeing to this stupid bet.

Even if this haunted house turned out to be a fake like all the others, he still had to spend the night in a place that hadn’t had any housekeeping done since the turn of the 20th century. He could have been at a Halloween party right now instead, chatting up girls in all kinds of costumes.

Still, he wasn’t going to chicken out now. Giving one final glance at the sunset on the horizon, he turned to stare at his destination. The house itself was as old timey as they come, and positioned right by the river.

As the story went, there was a husband and wife that had been living here, at least until the husband, in a fit of jealousy, had drowned her in the river. Unable to live with the guilt, he ended up sticking his shotgun in his mouth and pulling the trigger.

Yeah, that’s usually how these things went.

The door creaked unhappily when he pushed it open, though he was surprised not to find it caked in dust and cobwebs after stepping inside. While the furniture itself was clearly in disrepair, the place almost looked lived in.

The floorboards still protested with every step, so there was that.

Jason walked around the house using his phone as a flashlight, but the boredom was already settling in. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, no strange sounds or a wind that shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t until he entered the bedroom that he found anything interesting at all.

On the nightstand was a photograph of two people, though one of them had faded so much that it just looked vaguely like a man. The woman next to him on the other hand—the photograph must be over a hundred years old, and yet she looked like it had been taken yesterday.

He didn’t know how he felt thinking that a dead woman was kinda hot, but it was the truth.

She was tall, almost as tall as her husband, with full lips and curly hair that fell down to her shoulders, though he couldn’t say what color it was. Her modest dress made it hard to tell what her figure looked like, but she had long legs and was definitely on the thicker side of things.

Jason placed the photograph back on the nightstand, wondering if his friends were fucking with him.

Returning to the kitchen, he tried to find a candle or something. He made sure to charge his phone to full, but keeping the flashlight at all times would still drain the battery quickly.

And he was in luck, finding a few in a cupboard. Striking a match, he lit a few of them, placing them on the counter. He sat in the chair next to it after, feeling relieved when it didn’t fall apart on him.

Hunkering down, Jason figured he’d just browse the web until the sun rose. It wouldn’t be the first all-nighter he pulled.

He’d been at it for a few hours and was starting to feel sleepy when he heard the sound of footsteps going down the stairs. Considering he sure as shit had not heard anyone come inside, his heartbeat shot up like a rocket.

When the footsteps sounded in the kitchen with not a soul in sight, he was a second from jumping out of the fucking window, glass and all. He didn’t know why he didn’t, especially when the sound of a woman humming joined the footsteps. Morbid curiosity, maybe? Or maybe if he was being fucked with, he didn’t want to look like a dumbass.

Even if he didn’t know how the fuck you would fake something like this.

He just sat there as whatever it was went around the kitchen and… was it dusting? What the fuck.

Jason was maybe having a small existential crisis about the existence of ghosts when the footsteps stopped in front of him, the room going quiet. He could hardly breathe when he felt something poke his cheek. It moved down to his jaw slowly, and he realized it was someone’s nail.

And why the fuck was he so hard?

The nail retreated before a thump sounded on the floor. He didn’t even get the chance to question it before he suddenly felt a pair of hands tugging at his belt.

“Hold on now—” he tried, but the hands were rather persistent. It wasn’t long until he heard as much as saw his zipper being pulled down and one of the hands reaching into his jeans to grab a hold of his fucking dick. It was all cold and soft at the same time.

He heard a soft chuckle from the thin air as it or she copped a feel. Seriously, what in the Ghostbusters bullshit was happening right now?

He still couldn’t so much as move as he felt her hands tug his jeans down, leaving his bare ass seated and another part of him reaching for the stars. The hands returned quickly, both of them now exploring every part of his cock.

He ended up groaning when he felt something even softer touch the tip, retreating with some of his precum sticking to it like a thread. Did she just kiss the tip of his dick?

She did that a few times, the sounds growing more passionate until she made him groan by mouthing the head, the sensations as weird as they were pleasant. It was still cold, but now it was wet as well and maybe even slightly warm. There was pressure as well, the feeling of phantom lips tight around him until they pulled back, making a loud pop.

He felt her cold hands settle on his bare thighs as she was back at it, a fucking ghost giving him the best head he ever had. The trippiest part was probably seeing his precum travel down her phantom throat and into her belly, or at least that’s what it looked like to him.

Jason instinctively reached for her head, feeling her curls moving between his fingers until they pressed against her scalp. It was really her, wasn’t it?

He wished he could see her face, but instead she groaned around him and went deeper, maybe encouraging him. He was just rolling with it at this point.

Reaching the tipping point, he made a confused sound when she suddenly pulled back, her hands leaving him as well. He was about to maybe call out to her when she straddled him, her arms around his neck as he felt what must have been her pussy pressing against the tip of his cock.

They both groaned when she pushed herself down, her nails sharp against his back as she held him tight, the feeling of her thighs soft against his.

His hands roamed down her naked back, the feel of her stranger than strange, but he was growing accustomed to it now. He went all the way down her back to her wide hips, encouraging her to go lower by pushing down on them, and she did with another groan into his ear.

He couldn’t apply too much force, seeing as his hands just ended up slipping over her or through her. It was hard to tell, but he could still feel her, and that’s all that mattered.

She started riding him like a regular fucking cowgirl, going lower with each drop until he kissed her womb. The thought had him thinking all kinds of stupid shit. He wasn’t going to knock up a ghost.

The clap of her ass and thighs against him made for a wonderful backdrop, at least.

She was also giving him some animal sounds into his ear now as she sped up, and eventually she must have came as she tightened around him like a vice and huffed like a staccato.

When she weakened, he gripped her hips as well as he could and drove her up and down, making her make those funny sounds into his ear again until he hit his own peak, painting her ghostly insides a sticky white.

As he came down from his high, breathing as heavily as she was, he wondered what to even say.

The ghost of a woman made the choice for him by giving him a kiss on the cheek and pulling herself off his dick. He could see his splooge floating in the air inside her and some of it running down her thighs.

Jason felt her give his hand a tug then. “Darling, come. The night is late.”

Her voice was lovely, even if he couldn’t see her, and at this point most of the fear had fled him between the sex and the post-nut clarity. After fixing his jeans, he let her tug him up the stairs, leading him into the bedroom he remembered.

He felt he should say something at least. “I’m not your husband…”

She bid him to sit and kissed his cheek again. “I know,” she simply said.

“He’s not going to crawl out of the woodwork to strangle me to death, is he?” If she’s real, then he saw no reason he couldn’t have stuck around either.

She gave another hum. “My story’s turned into something almost unrecognizable, hasn’t it?” Jason felt her lean against him. “My husband hadn’t drowned me. I was clumsy and fell into the river. Hit my head against something and that was that.”

“Ah,” he smartly said.

“A rather ignoble end, I know.” She sounded like one of those old timey radio shows, but in a good way. “He eventually left and presumably started a new life elsewhere. I can’t rightly say.”

She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder like an affectionate cat.

“I’d seen a few visitors over the years, but they tended to make a quick exit when I made the slightest peep,” she continued. “You, on the other hand, sat there with this droll expression on your face, young man, even after I gave you a poke. All that did was have you stand at attention for me.”

He rubbed the back of his head at her teasing. “I’ve been told I have a few screws loose. But then even I wasn’t expecting a ghost to pull my pants down and have a go.”

“I prefer spirit. It might not have been very ladylike of me, but I could tell you had your fun. Why, I still feel your seed trickling down my legs. Makes me feel alive for the first time in a long time.”

The depression on the bed beside him vanished as she must have gone to the nightstand and back, returning with the photograph he’d seen earlier.

“Wasn’t I just a peach?” Though she didn’t let him answer, dropping the photograph into his hands instead. “My name’s Isabel, by the by, though only my mother really called me that. I prefer Bella.”

“Jason,” he said in kind.

“I had a thought,” she suddenly told him. The door of one of those old timey dressers clunked open, revealing some dresses. Going through them, she hummed a quiet tune until she pulled out a lacy white dress and presented it to him. “What do you think?”

“I’d have to see you in it,” he commented.

Even if the situation was surreal, the conversation felt like one he could have had with any girl.

After putting it on, she did a spin for him. It definitely hugged her form nicely. “You look smoking hot, Bella.”

“I’ll have to get used to your funny words, I think,” she told him with a laugh. “At least it will make it easier to see me, even if you can’t truly see me…” Her last words seemed almost bitter.

He didn’t know how to console a ghost or a spirit, but he could try.

He went to her and hugged her. “I’m not that superficial. Remember, a few screws loose.”

Her nails bit into his sides as she held him. “It’s this night on All Hallow’s Eve that I’m more than a whisper on the wind.”

Jason searched for something smart or insightful to say. “Have you ever thought about moving on? That’s usually how it goes for spirits.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start.” She hummed. “Or maybe this is a start? You’ll stay the night, won’t you?” she asked nervously.

“That was the plan. I made a stupid bet, but I’m glad I did now.” Yeah, he was a regular Casanova, wooing women that had even died.

She tugged him over to the bed, cuddling up to him. The sheets were clean, if a bit threadbare, but that wasn’t a surprise at this point.

“In an hour or two, when the night is darkest, you might even see something of me,” she admitted to him.

He kept that in mind as they talked. In some ways she was a mirror into the past, as he was a mirror into the future. Smartphones had fascinated her ever since she had seen one a few years ago, and he showed her how they worked as she ooh’d and ahh’d.

Around the 2 AM mark, he saw what Bella had meant. Slowly but surely she had become opaque, her skin as pale as snow. He also finally saw what color her hair was, a vivid red. Admittedly, the pitch black eyes were unsettling to look at, but he could get past that.

“It’s not how I used to look… God, I look like death warmed over with how pale I am.” She moved her fingers in the air over them. “I’ll take what I can.”

“It’s not a bad thing. Makes you look like something out of a fairy tale.”

She giggled at his comment, a mischievous smile appearing on her full lips. “I’ve already acted unladylike, and I had another thought. I never worked up the courage to try in life, but there was this dear friend I had who liked to partake in it if it was a man she adored. Which is all to say, young man… Jason, would you like to sodomize myself like a brute?”

He felt his cheeks heat up at the very blunt question. He knew what it meant, but he sure as shit didn’t know anyone who’d say it like that.

“Uhh… sure? Yeah.” He could have played that better, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“How do you want me? Shall I ride you like a stallion again?”

Yeah, none of his friends would believe a word of this. Not that he cared.

“On your belly, maybe. I don’t want to let you do all the work again, and you have a lot of cushion for the pushin’ as we call it these days.”

One of her brows rose as she stared at him with her black eyes, but she didn't question it, turning over on her belly and lifting her dress without him even asking.

Shit, with an ass and legs like that, even if this were all a clever scheme to get him to let his guard down before she pulls his heart out or something, he’d die a happy man.

Kicking his jeans off, he straddled Bella, much more soft than she was cold now.

“Don’t treat me like I’m made of porcelain either. You can’t hurt me. Just try not to hurt yourself,” she teased.

If she was anything like this in life, her hubby was a lucky man.

“I’ll try,” he promised. Hotdogging her pale cheeks a few times, he finally pressed the tip of his dick against the tiny thing she wanted him to try and get inside.

She gripped her pillow as he pushed, but he didn’t have to convince her to relax. Nah, she just untensed, her brows furrowed in concentration, and after smearing his precum all over, he finally pushed inside. It wasn’t until he got the head in that she winced.

“That is new,” she husked out.

He felt Bella clench and unclench as he pushed inside inch by inch, groaning softly into her ear as she squirmed and wiggled. The blend of hot and cold inside her guts wasn’t like anything he had ever felt.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t actually pull out his heart. He didn’t want to do this only once.

When he’d finally bottomed out, his balls touching the pussy he’d fucked earlier, he saw her making an ugly face. “Should I wait?” He had no idea what was too much for her.

“No,” she quickly said. “I want to feel your essence fill every crevice in me.”

Yeah, he can do that. He mighta dropped a load already, but that only helped so much with how her guts felt.

Starting to rock into her, she clenched around the base of his cock like a madwoman, and even started sounding like one too. Also kicking into her bed whenever he hit someplace deep with enough force to shake the bed.

“My mother would have whipped me raw if I’d even thought about such a thing,” she grunted out, her voice darker and more lustful than he’d heard her yet.

It was really working for him.

He grew more on edge as the sounds of their lovemaking turned stickier with every clap, clap, clap, until it finally hit him. Holding her tightly, he went so deep that her eyes crossed just as stars exploded in his vision. He fed everything he had and then some into her.

As he started to come to after maybe the biggest nut of his life, he found his heart still in his chest, so that was a plus.

“Mmm. I can feel it worming into me,” she crooned. “It’s almost scorching hot.”

Bella certainly had a vivid vocabulary, and he loved it. He kissed the smooth skin at her shoulder, and she clenched around him.

He didn’t pull out until he felt like it, but when he did it was with a fun pop, like a cork. Despite her best efforts, some of it still leaked out to stain the sheets.

He finally fell on his back beside her, sighing. “I’ll be visiting you again, Bella.”

She was on her side now, staring at him with her pitch black eyes. “I will hold you to that, Jason.”

He could almost feel her heartbeat as she threw one of her legs over him possessively, her hand on his chest. Eventually, it lulled him into slumber.

Best Halloween ever…