Carol McKenzie
GHOSTLY SEDUCTION 'All Hallow's Eve' By Carol McKenzie
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GHOSTLY SEDUCTION
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Carol McKenzie
GHOSTLY SEDUCTION 'All Hallow's Eve' By Carol McKenzie
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GHOSTLY SEDUCTION
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Ghostly Seduction Copyright (c) 2005 by Carol McKenzie Cover art and design (c) 2005 by Sable Grey All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America. For information, you can find us on the web at www.VenusPress.com
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Dedication:
To Mookie and Jack, the loves of my life.
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Chapter One
The need for privacy was the main reason she was moving away from her hometown. Experiencing life alone, without family and friends guiding her every move or looking over her shoulder sounded heavenly, even though she loved every one of them. She drove fast because co-workers were waiting. They had consorted behind her back and organized a goodbye party that would be thrown in her honor tonight. It was after sunset, on a dusty, sweltering night when Kaitlyn pulled into the rocky lot of Lonnie's Tavern & Restaurant, outside the city limits of Brigamton, Missouri. Gravel crunched under the tires and the song of cicadas floated in through the open car window. Turning into an empty space, she parked in front of the bar and restaurant. A ribbon of anticipation twirled within Kaitlyn's heart as she locked up her car and climbed out into the soggy night air. The red and blue neon sign of Lonnie's Tavern & Restaurant flickered and buzzed overhead. All her real estate friends were waiting in the banquet room, Madison her best friend, had forewarned her earlier. Kaitlyn knew where to go, for she had been in the establishment before. The usual restaurant smells greeted her as she exited the main hall and passed a cocktail table filled with diners in the main dining room. The decor was rustic. Horseshoes hung on unpainted walls. Saddles, wanted posters and buggy whips adorned the hall that led to the restrooms. Liquor bottles glittered and colorfully brightened the bar area. Country music flowed from speakers in the dark room that was half as big as a basketball court. Did she look festive enough? Kaitlyn wore a shiny, dark-blue plunging top and tight jeans that showed off her slender waistline and hips. For some reason she felt so nervous. She had piled her soft, dark brown mane on top of her head and secured it with rhinestone combs. Her full chocolate-colored breasts were topped with cherry-sized 5
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nipples and lifted temptingly under the plunging navy blue lacy bodice. She liked the top; it showed a hint of cleavage without appearing too transparent or risqué. Under her tight jeans, she wore a silky, lacy dark blue thong; it made her feel sleek and feminine. Inheriting her mother's looks, Kaitlyn Olivia Sensenbrenner was a medium-tall and well-proportioned black woman. On her graceful feet, Kaitlyn wore sparkly navyblue stiletto heels and at her waist, she carried a matching handbag. Escaping strands of her long soft hair tumbled to her shoulders. A tiny gold charm bracelet adorned one ankle. Her delicate features emphasized her high cheekbones. Her doe soft eyes were hazel and her brows, each a natural arc. She wore natural color eye shadow. Her nails were stylishly long, manicured and painted to match her lip color, reddish-brown and sparkly. Wary and feeling awkward because of the male attention that she drew, Kaitlyn courageously neared the male-populated bar, muttering a curse word. Men’s heads turned as she passed en route to the private party room in back. Then she saw him and drew an awkward breath. Greg Blackwell. Kaitlyn approached the pale white man, her stilettos clicking on the wooden floor. “Come sit with me,” he murmured. It seemed like she could see right through him. Of course, the lighting made him appear that way. She knew his name well, but didn't want to admit how she knew. Not even to herself. The dreams began a little over a year earlier. Why wasn't she scared? He definitely did not currently exist in her realm, though she approached him as though he were real. Kaitlyn had first met and talked to him in town. To be exact, she encountered him at an open-air produce stand. Kaitlyn remembered discussing who would become the next President, over a pile of pumpkins early in November, a year earlier and had learned that he held the same political beliefs. Then, or shortly after, the dreams visited occasionally. In the space of a few seconds, Kaitlyn recalled the first dream she had of him and her blood ran hot. He had introduced himself, then set about seducing her, becoming acquainted in what seemed like several hours. He was an artist and wrote poetry. He showed her his paintings and read aloud love poems he had written. 6
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Instantly, she found herself loving his mind, soft words and sweet demeanor. An old familiar ache began between her legs at the memory of him days later. During the first dream, he had taken her on a river trip in a rowboat. He rowed them to a distant bank of the slow-flowing river, where small white fuzzy things floated through the still warm air. There they picnicked, chatted and drank red wine. They kissed. On bended knee, he declared undying declarations of love, saying he knew her through and through and wanted to make her his own woman. Upon return to his estate, he led her through a garden house that was dappled with pinks, reds and peach colors. Where heavenly light filtered through the plant-filled room that smelled of rich loam and rose petals. Where were they, Kaitlyn had wondered? Down a rose arched trellis-covered path, hand in hand they strolled, whispering sweet nothings and giggling like children. Beyond glass-paned double doors, his bedroom awaited them, lovers hot and in love seeking to consummate their relationship. Pleasantly, they spent their time together that day in the first dream. It had been love at first sight for Kaitlyn. His hands, strong and ivory, expertly unfastened the beige lacy bodice and slid the garment down her arms, freeing her tingling ample breasts for his pleasure. His hands cupped them and she felt the rough pads of this thumbs running over the pebbly surface of the areola. Cheeks heated with need, trembling, she leaned against the bedpost, allowing him to continue, until she became a willing naked mistress lying in his bed. His shrewd, adoring eyes had caressed her curves, showing his approval. Her heartbeat quickened and she wanted his cock in her more than air to breathe. As she rested at his side, he parted her folds and deeply stroked her as tears streamed down her cheeks. He made her feel exciting, sensual, and beautiful. "Now," he had whispered, as he drew her long hair back. "This is much better. You'll soon be back in your own world. But first this..." His mouth sought and descended upon her parted lips. "I want to make it possible that we see one another." "In my dreams?" "Any way we can, my love." For the life of her, she could not remember the actual coupling. The recollection dissipated; reality returned and there he was in real life. In fact, he sat near, so close they could touch. 7
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Lightly, he grasped her arm. Kaitlyn suddenly found herself eye-to-eye and spellbound with him. The man in her dreams now, flesh and blood and definitely not in a dream! He was the most luscious man she ever remembered meeting. Under his probing gaze, she stiffened, shoving the memory of the dream into her mind's depths. She took a deep courage-building breath. Surely she was mistaken, should hold onto her emotions and walk directly to the room where her friends waited. Greg, the 'hunk', Blackwell. His good looks sent a shiver spiraling throughout her body. "How's your evening going so far, babe?" "Okay." "Want it to be better?" he asked suggestively. After giving an uncomfortable shrug, she bit her lip, looked down and shook her head, smiling. "I mean it," he said, his tone low. "I can make it a lot better." Greg's spiked hairstyle appeared raven; his jaw line chiseled and his looks were aristocratic. His coloring was a shade darker than ivory. Was he of Spanish or Italian-American descent? It was hard to tell. Greg Blackwell could easily be a Hollywood sex symbol. Realistically, a man who looked and acted like Greg probably had a long list of women who vied to the death for his attention--white and black women. His unique and positive qualities--attentiveness, good attitude and warm disposition intrigued her. They interacted well and agreed on almost everything. Her feelings ran deeper for him than with any other guy she had talked with, because their chemistry worked. If she ever wanted a man and it was ridiculous to even consider, that it was possible she would consider Greg the man most likely to win her. Yes, he was a frontrunner on her secret list of heartthrobs. Greg would be the perfect man to take on the formidable task of tearing down her carefully built defense mechanisms. To end her grim period of sexlessness and fear of loving a man who would trample her love on the ground. Twice she had loved and twice the men had sought other women behind her back. But Greg seemed the type of man she could trust. Although, it was confusing, separating reality from the dreams, regarding him. 8
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She turned her eyes on him, thinking that maybe someday she would let him seduce her; body, mind and soul. Mm. Look at that bod--virile, ready and waiting. With difficulty, she tore her eyes away. Mm-mm-mm. And how good it would feel, melded to him, entwined in his muscular arms. It was a good thing he could not read her mind! I can read your thoughts. Was she amidst a dream again? She gasped and peered at the smug expression that spread over his chiseled smiling face. Kaitlyn froze in place before him, knowing that she should move on, but was frozen, caught by the enchantment of the moment. Did he really mind read? Impossible! I can read your every thought. Heat rose in her cheeks. On three separate occasions, Greg had asked her out, but she'd turned him down. The man just didn't give up. And, if the truth were known, that’s what attracted her about him. Oddly enough, he never accompanied anyone and his attention seemed transfixed on her. In all honesty, Kaitlyn feared facing middle age alone. Already she was three decades old and didn't have a full-time lover. All her friends had boyfriends; they worried about her. Madison fretted and said that Kaitlyn should soften her stance about relationships and appear more approachable. Kaitlyn agreed, because she had suppressed and ignored her needs, which wasn't good; it went against nature and made her edgy and frustrated. At inopportune times, her body had reminded her of Greg's obvious sexuality, especially at bedtime. Curling, achy needs raged within her, as Greg's likeness lurked in the shadows of her mind. Most assuredly, it was past time to lose the self-inflicted celibacy that she had endured over the previous years. What if one day she awoke and no man wanted her? Kaitlyn's parents had raised her in an over-protective, strict environment, perhaps scaring off a prospective significant other. They would have heart failure if they saw her with the white god Greg, especially if they found out that she didn't even know how he spent his days. If she were more forward, she'd ask him a few questions. What was that she saw simmering in his dark pools? Lust? 9
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In a yummy way, Greg sat on the bar stool on one side of his butt, his one long, strong leg in front of her, touching her knees, impeding her movement. Words failed her. Mm--what alluring deportment he had! Realistically though, a relationship with him would be impossible. She regarded Greg as he nonchalantly raised a stemmed glass toasting her and then bringing it to his taut lips; all the while her insides quaked. Part of her wanted to stay and succumb to his wiles. Very hard, she swallowed and looked down. Damn, damn, damn. To gain nerve, Kaitlyn grasped her handbag more tightly than before for strength. He swallowed the drink and then took the glass from his curving lips. His words unspoken entered her mind. You look drop dead gorgeous, my black beauty. Greg knew what he was doing to her, she felt. Managing a smile, she mustered up false calmness. Definitely, he threatened to end her celibacy; his attention turned her on so much. He repeated his request. "Come sit by me, Kaitlyn. Let me make you feel good." Words solidified like stones in her throat for a moment while he waited for her slow reply. Obviously, he could tell that she twisted like a kite in the wind. Kaitlyn had to speak! She felt like such an idiot. “Oh darn, Greg. I can’t right now." Hesitatingly, Kaitlyn noted his disappointment and re-set her line of vision elsewhere. "They’re throwing me a party back there.” She returned her attention to the door near the kitchen, feeling Greg's eyes taking in her backside. "See you later, Greg." She turned back facing him, noting his sudden broodiness. "I'd love to see you later," he murmured suggestively. There was another long pause. "What town are you moving to, babe?" His eyes dropped to her plunging top and rose to recapture her gaze. "Poplar Bluff," Kaitlyn said in her normal, but slightly quaking feminine voice. It was all she could do to not hold her hand just so, hiding the dip in her top. "I go there often," he mentioned offhandedly. "Oh really?" Kaitlyn asked, moving on by him, the fabric of her jeans touching his jeans. It was all she could do to keep from reaching out and sliding her hand around his neck and drawing his mouth down to hers. 10
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"Perhaps we'll see each other sometime," Greg said. Her heart thumped in her chest. "Perhaps." "I'd like it to be more, though, Kait." "Oh really?" She felt herself melting; if she talked to him much longer she'd be a wet spot on the carpeting. "Yeah." With an upturned frown, she nodded. "Now if you'll let me by, please Greg." He looked at her as if in a daze, so beguiling. "Your leg," she reminded him. "Please." A smile widened on his lips. "Oh." He moved so she could go. "You smell delicious, babe." Heat rose in her cheeks. "See you," she said, moving away far across the room. She didn't know much about him; he was such a mysterious man. When she turned, he was still looking. Kaitlyn forced herself to shove his soul-melting innuendoes to the back of her mind as she crossed to the swinging door, disappearing from his view. The crotch of her thong had dampened. If she had a choice and if she had to surrender to one particular man, it definitely would be him. Sparks of need and attraction had arced. But the entire line of thinking was utterly ridiculous. What was wrong with her? Like a bird, the luscious idea fluttered away when she joined the smiling and laughing well-wishers, but she knew it would return soon.
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Chapter Two
An hour and a half later, behind the closed doors of the white plain banquet room, Kaitlyn said, "I wasn't expecting all this." Feeling giddy and warm from drink, laughter and a steak dinner, Kaitlyn glanced past the nine friends to her best friend Madison , who fussed with a waitress near the door. What in the world was Madison up to? Madison was a white girl with a head of russet long hair, a slender build and delicate features. Turning, she peered toward Kaitlyn. Two busboys cleared plates off the table. Glasses clinked and the room smelled of charbroiled steaks. In a distant part of the restaurant country music played. "You all certainly took me by surprise," Kaitlyn told her friends. "The table is beautiful." The white-clothed table was decorated with two floral arrangements of fragrant tiger lilies, driftwood and ferns. Friends stood, raised their glasses and toasted. "To our dear friend Kaitlyn's happiness with her new job." An older lady said out the side of her mouth. "And finding a man." The group roared with laughter. Some of her friends had drunk a few too many cocktails. Kaitlyn dropped her forehead into her hands and giggled as they went on and on about missing Madison her. "I really do need help with the man part." She raised her glass and they all drank simultaneously. The last two or three years, she had put all her energy into her real estate career and feigning enthusiasm for being single, but something was missing in her life. She hungered for a man's touch. Madison rather pertly came to the table, plopped in the next chair and reached for a glass. She tapped a manicured red nail on the white tablecloth. "We're not finished with you this evening, Kaitlyn, my dear. There's presents and then the cake." 12
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One of the ladies said, "Ohhh, the cake. Yes." What were they up to? Cooing their comments, the ladies gabbed and sipped another drink or two as the waitress came and went. Everyone was having a good time. "I hope you like it there," said one of the women, smiling warmly. "I'm sure I will. The employer seems people-oriented," said Kaitlyn, as she drew several strands of dark brown hair behind her ear. "I'll like having my own office." Eleven pair of eyes danced and darted as the waitress rolled a decorated service cart into view. Ribbon had been tied to the handle which was attached to green and yellow helium-filled balloons. Going away gifts occupied the shelves. "What in the world?" asked Kaitlyn. "Looky here," said Madison dramatically. "And what do we have?" Slyly she fingered a tag. "They're all to you, Kaitlyn. Isn't that odd?" Kaitlyn laughed. "You ladies shouldn't have." "These are from us. We don't want you to go off and forget about us, do we?" As the women looked on, Kaitlyn opened each present, while ooo-ing and ahhing. Graciously, she thanked each of them. She received a beige camisole, toiletry articles, a lacy thong, house slippers, and three romance novels by her favorite author. The women laughed when she held the camisole up to her front. After the last gift had been opened, the waitress entered the banquet room holding a round festive basket that was covered with green cellophane and bright curling ribbons. "And what is this?" asked Kaitlyn. Madison held a hand to her throat, blinked and said, "I don't know, Kaitlyn. I thought we got all the presents." Madison caught the women's attention and asked, "Who's this from? Does anyone know?" The ladies shook their heads, looked at each other and shrugged. "I don't know who brought it." "Open it anyway," said Madison. "It must be to you." "Is this a joke?" asked Kaitlyn. "Seriously..." "Honestly, Kaitlyn. I don't know who gave you this. It seems to have just shown up." "Oh, I like mysteries,” one of the women said. 13
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"Well, okay then." Kaitlyn, mystified looked at it closely. She opened and read the hand calligraphy that decorated a parchment card. "Love Potion? Oh wow!" "Sounds exotic. How does it work?" asked someone. "What is it?" someone asked. "I don't know. I guess I'll have to read the directions." Kaitlyn didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. "It's real nice. Thank you so much. Now if I take these I can get a man. Goody," Kaitlyn said jestingly. "Is that how this works? Does anyone know?" "I don’t know." "Me either." The women giggled. Kaitlyn pressed the cellophane inward to one of the four-inch long slender vial and said, "I can't see another card. I hope there's other instructions." **** When later a male stripper popped out of a crepe paper cake, then stripped to music from a boom box, and undulated his tempting muscle bound lower body inches away, wearing a G-string that barely covered his bulging male nest, she forgot the Love Potion, dismissing it as being innocuous perfume or colored water. Quite honestly, strikingly handsome males that popped out of cakes were eye candy, but Kaitlyn needed more than superficial attention to prod her out her shell. She needed a hot-blooded lover who wanted to connect with her on a deeper level. He should understand her and strive to make her happy and she would do likewise. But such gentlemen friends were impossible to find and keep, she'd heard. Could Greg, the man who sat at the bar, give her what she needed? It was a ridiculous but entertaining question. Her memory of him hovered like a wraith in an English castle. Kaitlyn could almost feel his rough hands running over her smooth skin. She'd dreamt of him before, hadn’t she? She stopped her wandering mind and focused on the matter at hand: the gift basket. Kaitlyn vowed to open it and read the directions...someday. She'd love to send the giver a thank you note. But in all sincerity, Kaitlyn didn't believe the colored liquid could unleash any special powers or love spells. Nah, it just wouldn't happen. Later that evening, Kaitlyn packed the presents into her trunk with Madison’s help. She drove home to her quiet, dark apartment and brooded, feeling lonely as she undressed and readied for bed. Was she depressed and lonely for a lover? The answer 14
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was an obvious "yes," damn it. Perhaps once she settled in her new job, she’d accept an invitation to a movie or a dinner, if the opportunity ever presented itself and the man appeared decent and caring. Those two traits appealed to her more than looks and certainly were very hard to find. **** Kaitlyn was glad to find her best friend standing on her doorstep the next Saturday morning offering her assistance; it was moving day. With Kaitlyn's parents and three teenage boys from the neighborhood, Kaitlyn packed dishes, emptied and cleaned out the refrigerator, talking non-stop. Using a screwdriver, Madison took the mirror off the dresser while Kaitlyn took items from the closet and packed them into cardboard boxes. Kaitlyn's father helped the teenagers in the living room guide the sofa through the front door and up the ramp and into the back of the truck. “So, when are you going to try this stuff?” asked Madison, peering at the green cellophane and ribbon wrapped basket that Kaitlyn brought out of the closet, her face displaying a curious expression. Kaitlyn raised it and examined it. "I don't know exactly." Madison turned her attention back to her work. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll conjure yourself up a real good man.” A lone laugh escaped Madison's lips. Kaitlyn's tone cooled. “You mean like right now, a man for me? Madison, I want to get settled." Her lips turned down into a frown. Madison's brow arched. "Sure." It was an expression of disbelief that Kaitlyn come to know over the years. Screw it, thought Kaitlyn, not finding her comment particularly funny at that moment. “What?” asked Madison, as she rounded the front side of the dresser and began loosening the screws on the opposite side of the mirror. "...For god sakes," said Kaitlyn. "Nothing I guess." “You don’t believe in it? Hm?” Carefully Madison grinned, then carefully put the unwrapped basket into a large cardboard box. She cleared her throat. "You need to get laid and it’s absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.” “Most folks wouldn’t believe it if they knew I’m sexually inactive,” said Kaitlyn. She laughed then carried the cardboard box to the truck. 15
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Madison nodded in a motherly way, picked up a box of toiletries and followed Kaitlyn to the truck. Once they were back inside, Madison drew back a few rebellious strands of hair and then paused for a second or two before saying, “I know one thing...” It aggravated Kaitlyn when Madison started to say something then stalled midsentence. “What?” “Okay. Number one, you never go anywhere." Silence. "Well, am I right?" "Well, uh--no." Madison lectured, “You’re all business Kaitlyn. You never have fun. Men have wanted you, but you ignore their advances. It’s not a surprise to those who know you, Kaitlyn,” repeated Madison, as she reached into the closet for a clear plastic box of colored pens. Suddenly Madison seemed so in her face on the "no-man" subject. “Someday, once I get settled, maybe I’ll go out on a date. There's no urgent rush.” Ten minutes or so later Madison asked, “So will you ever try the Love Potion? Not that it’s real. It’s probably made just for fun. Maybe it’ll enhance your feelings. Who knows?" she asked then shrugged. "But you do need to get some male TLC. Seriously, you do." Kaitlyn shook her head, agreeing. “I don’t even know who gave this to me. Like maybe it's liquid poison.” “Poison, huh?” asked Madison. “Why do you say that?” “Maybe an enemy sent them,” said Kaitlyn. "Ever think about that?" "You don't have enemies, do you?" Madison made a mocking sound in her throat that sounded like the theme song to Twilight Zone. “Or some outer worldly force sent them.” “Oh no, Madison.” A lone laugh left Kaitlyn's lips as she reached for the strap of her purse that hung on the disassembled headboard of her bed. “You’re really imaginative today, aren’t you?” asked Kaitlyn, as she located a stick of Juicy Fruit in her purse. “...by saying some supernatural element had his fingers a hand in the sending of this Love Potion or whatever it is?” Once the moving truck had been loaded the apartment stood empty and locked. Kaitlyn paid the boys, kissed her mother and told her goodbye, then hugged Madison. 16
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When she had the bout of emotion under control, Kaitlyn climbed into the cab of the truck with her father, who was behind the wheel and starting the engine. With a tug, Kaitlyn closed the passenger door and waved to a small group of neighbors. "I'll be home soon to visit." Kaitlyn's father said to her mother, "And I'll be home in three days." "You be careful," said her mother, waving. "Kaitlyn, don't take up with any strange men. I know you're thirty, but still listen to your mother." Kaitlyn peered out the window and into her mother's teary eyes and shook her head. Why did her mother worry about her like she was still a schoolgirl? "Mom, I won't. Don't worry." Madison said, "No, Mrs. Sensenbrenner, she won't even go on a date." Kaitlyn's father said, "Well, I want to get on the interstate before dark. So let's go." "I'll call when we get there," said Kaitlyn. "Love you," said Madison. "I'll make plans to visit around Thanksgiving, then. I'm sure I could get some time off.” "Sounds great Madison. Don't worry about me," said Kaitlyn, as her father pulled the truck toward a new town, a new life and new job. She considered her mother's admonitions then turned to her father. "Mom worries too much." He pulled to a stop at a sign, made a right, made a left and when they were traveling south on a state highway he added, "That's what mothers are for." "That sure was a slow response." "Uh huh." "You two don't have to worry. I can take care of myself and when the time is right to find a boyfriend, I will do it with my eyes open." "When will that be?" he asked, as though he didn't believe her.
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Chapter Three
After her father left, Kaitlyn unboxed her possessions and took an extra week off before starting work. Enjoying her new life of freedom and making her apartment a home. In the one bedroom flat, Kaitlyn painted the bathroom a pretty shade of chambray blue, her favorite color. The bedroom had already been wallpapered with a blue flower print and matched perfectly with her blue bedspread, sheets and pillowcases. Once she hung some of her paintings and set up her desk in the living room, she hung the white Cape Cod curtains in the small modern kitchen and placed a crystal vase of white silk flowers on the table. Kaitlyn felt at home the day she went to work. She enjoyed her real estate agent job, but her passion was decorating. She loved rendering artwork as a hobby. And nothing cheered up a house more that appealing artwork combined with a little TLC. One evening when she was thinking about enhancing the closet space, she wondered what should she do with the green basket that contained the slender vial? It took up a lot of room. Rising on her toes, she put it up one shelf and shoved it to the back of the closet. What in the world should she do with it? It was a pretty gift, but she wasn’t naive; of course the vials had no supernatural power to conjure up love. How utterly ridiculous! At most, the gift would make a great conversation piece at a party. And since Kaitlyn didn’t know many people in the area, not enough to invite to a party, she stacked sheets and pillowcases in front of it. She didn’t even know who gave it to her. She’d never drink it, if that was what she was supposed to do with it. But the idea of what it could do bothered her. What would happen? Who was she kidding? Kaitlyn wanted to try the potion. How was she supposed to use it? Did Greg Blackwell have something to do with the mystery vial? It certainly was a mystery vial. **** 18
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Once she had settled in, the dreams manifested at the most inopportune moments of the day. The elusive, desirable man appeared in them--Greg Blackwell. Why though? Possibly he was not of this world, the more she thought of it, because his skin seemed gauzy and transparent when she saw him at the restaurant and bar. Then again, it was possible that Greg Blackwell was merely a figment of her imagination; she had drummed him up because she lacked a male's attention. After all, Kaitlyn hadn't been with a man for many months. The inner workings of a needy woman's brain were probably complicated. When he visited Kaitlyn, she loved to taunt him by transferring lewd thoughts in a teasing way...And it's too bad you can’t really be here, fantasy man. Call it women’s intuition, but Greg was waiting for something. But what? Weird. Did he mistakenly think they could engage in a real relationship? How laughably impossible! She could reach right through his body, for godsakes! When she closed her eyes and opened her mind, she saw him waiting. Kaitlyn didn’t dare tell anyone, even Madison, that he lurked in the shadows of her life since she had moved. Watching and waiting during bouts of dreaminess and arousal. From the top of his dark, unruly hair, down his sleek, taut naked body, ending at his feet, he was all man, buff looking, tough, lean, and sinewy. Mmm, a walking wet dream. He gazed at her through insolent glacial blue eyes, wearing a secretive expression. His features, albeit white and gossamer, were chiseled, and his lips were firm and sensual: a magnificent man. Even though she conjured him up, she enjoyed teasing him almost more than breathing itself. Kaitlyn imagined his hand over his thick cock, stroking himself in her presence, looking right in her eyes. In those fantasy moments, he seemed so real that she could almost smell and taste his arousal. She would reach out to him and, as his image faded, he nodded to her and smiled. Then reality would intrude and ruined everything. Kaitlyn sighed as she rose from the bed. There she was; all hot and no one to fuck. It was the story of her life. Kaitlyn looked out the window. Where are you? Come to me. I need you, she taunted. **** Two days faded into three. Work in Poplar Bluff took up a lot of her time and Kaitlyn didn't think of the ghost or whatever he was who looked like Greg. Kaitlyn 19
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showed several properties as Riverview Realty’s most promising new salesperson. The lack of sex and the elusive Greg bogged her thinking, making her a bit edgy. Kaitlyn nevertheless readied to show an estate one afternoon after seeing him during her shower. Needing relief from female needs, she had stepped into the shower wondering if she should try the potion. Then perhaps a real man could quell her fiery longings. Under the fixture, the warm water trickled and streamed over her mocha skin, making her feel warm, secure and seductive. Kaitlyn enjoyed teasing him, causing his swollen shaft to stand up straight, torturing him, knowing he couldn't do a thing about it. He watched, deep in the shadows of her mind--the figment of her imagination had come to watch her take a shower. Leaning back against the shower wall, Kaitlyn ran her hands all over her body for him. His invisible nearness nearly overwhelmed her. She massaged her bubbly breasts. You want me? then make yourself known and come and fuck me. Look what I’m doing my precious. Don't you wish you could touch me like this? Languidly, she soaped her at-attention swells and nipples. Mm. See? Don’t you wish you could wash and taste them, Greg? Oh...and this so very much needs your attention. Eyes closed, she located her bud; her slick, plunging fingers brushed her sweet clitoris. “Mmm.” Her breath rate increased, blood coursed through her veins. She imagined the neglected appendage of his needs repeating long, harsh thrusts rubbing against it. She asked him, Where are you when I need you most? Luscious moments, Kaitlyn's leg raised and wedged on the tub’s edge. If he were real she'd die of embarrassment, spread open and massaging herself deeply. Kaitlyn dropped the soap and titillated her crevice with a flattened hand. Mmm, the sensuousness of it all, she told Greg, and continued right under his fictitious nose. Don't you wish you were here doing this for me? Under her pubic mound, in the slit, she rubbed and rinsed, until she shuddered. Kaitlyn loved her clitoris; the blessed little mechanism truly amazed her. Part of it rose like a miniature penis and stood erect when it received her attention. She fantasized that he appeared under the jetted water behind her. Hi sweetie, she said to him silently. 20
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Greg's lean taut body molded to the contours of her backside, locking her in his embrace as he whispered into her hair. You feel good. It was crazy! Imagined of course, Greg reached around and pinched her rosebud nipples hard, until they engorged. Materialize Greg. Please. I need you to make love to me. Oh yes. The fingers inserted were not her fingers, she conceived it was his rigid cock; it could sink much deeper. So velvety and large, it would stretch the walls of her pussy, squeezing him as he slid in and out of her, bringing her closer to climax. You feel so good. Kaitlyn wanted him and would die for him in her fantasy. “Please,” she begged him aloud, “Don’t stop.” Waves of pleasure rocked her being. Breathing normally as reality returned, had Greg heard her? Kaitlyn opened her eyes and turned off the water. As she reached for a towel she thought, Goodbye, imaginary man. Of course, there was no man lurking. It was silly to pretend one fucked her. Out of a need, she had conjured him up with her over-active imagination. She needed something to hydrate her life’s sexual drought, which seemingly worsened by the day. Again, she pooh-poohed the powers of the vial. Kaitlyn opened the dresser drawer and poked through her lingerie. That evening, she wore her shoulder length brown hair down. Gazing in the mirror, she slipped on a black lacy bra, black silky camisole and a tiny black thong that barely covered the lips of her pussy. Using a light touch, she dotted less than a drop of cologne on her pulse points. Kaitlyn dressed, remembering the stranger. After one last look in the full-length mirror and checking her flat, taut tummy, she flipped off the bedroom lights and walked down the hallway. Donning a business black dress, white silky blouse, sweater jacket, dark hosiery, and black high heels, Kaitlyn retrieved her raincoat from a hanger that hung directly under the basket of vials. She slipped it on, the whole while amazed that her nipples still stood erect because the unreal mystery man who resembled Greg had pinched them.
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Chapter Four
Disturbing, steamy meetings in the shower increased in frequency, leaving her frustrated and unsatisfied. Kaitlyn ached and needed to do something about it. Thinking her best friend could help, Kaitlyn pecked a telephone number onto the keypad and heard Madison answer in a disgruntled tone. "Did I call at a bad time?" asked Kaitlyn, as she half-reclined in the center of the soft bed. A bit impatient, she held the earpiece of her cell phone to her ear. Wearing nothing but a hot pink thong and matching midriff length camisole that barely covered the dark russet tips of her heavy mocha breasts. A manicured nail toyed with several long strands of her dark soft hair. Madison moaned on the phone line. “Hold on. I’ve got to pay the paperboy. I’ll be right back, dammit.” “Okay,” said Kaitlyn, as she lay farther back. Her loosened hair spread out over a white linen, lace-edged pillow. With a bare shoulder she haphazardly held the earpiece to her ear and gazed into the top of the closet at the still-wrapped basket. The hint of green cellophane and ribbon shined in the closet's murky depths. The present remained unopened. Surely the vial of Love Potion wasn't real. Anyone with half a brain would know that Love Potions were a prop in fairy tales, not the real thing. Darn it, she had to get some answers about the Greg Blackwell mystique right away. Was he real, an apparition or merely a figment of everyone's imagination? Perhaps she experienced a fantasy that went awry, because she hadn't had sex for months and months. Mother Nature's needs had been ignored and an ongoing sexual hallucination took over Kaitlyn's brain. When Madison finally came back on the line, Kaitlyn asked, "Does Patty Anne Browne still work for the Sheriff's Department?” "I'm sure she does." A short pause followed. "Why?" 22
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Nervously, Kaitlyn rubbed her smooth thigh and slapped it lightly once. "I wonder..." "Lord sakes, what?" Kaitlyn cleared her throat. "I need a background check done on a Greg Blackwell." "Hold on. I'll get a pencil. Give me that name again." Kaitlyn said his name again then within three seconds she heard Madison yelling at her younger brother, who taunted her in the distance, to keep his mouth quiet. "Madison? You there?" "I'm here girlfriend." "Oh. Okay. Greg Blackwell, huh?" asked Madison. "Got it. Why's his name coming up?" "I--uh--you wouldn't believe me if I told you." Two days later Madison returned with the information. Kaitlyn was at work, sitting at her desk near the front window of Riverview Realty and continued to unwrap a roast beef sandwich that she'd bought at a nearby fast food restaurant. The realtor at the next desk talked to a client and another co-worker, a man, escorted a family to his car. She had to eat fast because a potential client was coming in for a house showing. "What did you come up with?" "Well, Kait, I don't know what you want to know, but a Greg Blackwell lived in Brigamton, Missouri for a year before his death. He was killed in a head on collision south of town; he was on his way to his lady friend's house. Um, let's see. He was a white man and had several women friends who were white, but he had a more meaningful relationship at one time with a beautiful black woman. Some have seen him in and around town after he passed away." Madison paused. "Want more?" Kaitlyn rolled her eyes. "Yes." "The black woman he was seeing looks a little like you. I saw a picture of her in the paper. She died a while back of cancer...." Kaitlyn gasped. "Are you sure?" "Positive." Kaitlyn clucked her tongue. "You're good at this." "I know." Madison laughed 23
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Kaitlyn had long since stopped chewing her food. The skin between her brows rumpled and she blinked with astonishment. "You say he's...dead?" For some reason the new information did not surprise her. "Uh-oh." "What's going on, Kaitlyn? Why are you wanting to know?" "I'll tell you later. Maybe when you come to visit. I need to think about this." A short pause transpired. "You okay?" asked Madison. "I'll tell you soon. I just don't know. I have some things to work out. " Her best friend would think Kaitlyn had turned crazy as a loon. "You're awfully mysterious on this, Kait." "I'll call you back tomorrow, Madison. I'll tell you the whole story as it is." "It sounds freaky. Are you okay?" "I'm fine. I need to think about this." Why and how was Greg Blackwell visiting her if he was dead? Perhaps she should seek some help in ridding her life of the ghost. Summoning him or it from who knew where was wrong. Thinking of him, she slid her hand under the band of her thong. Her long fingers located the bud of her female existence. Come my darling. Calling him to come to her, Kaitlyn saw his face and imagined his touch. I need to feel your cock deep up inside me. I can feel you in me now, Greg. With a shudder she continued toying with her bud, it felt good, but it was not the same as having a man doing it. Thinking he watched from somewhere in the room, Kaitlyn filled with inner desire. The old familiar ache returned and she closed her eyes, as she felt his bracing closeness. His manly scent intoxicated her. "In the flesh, please, come to me. Make yourself known and let me see you," she said, as she reached under her top and massaged her breasts. She could tell that he was a magnificent man--stunningly virile, even though she'd never met him when he was alive. Soon my darling, soon. Suddenly the room felt empty. He left. Where did he go? She looked around, her heart about beating out of her chest. "Wait," she implored. The suddenness of his departure caused her to sit up and call his name. "Greg?" 24
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Silence prevailed. Greg had said he would see her in the flesh soon? Did he really mean it? Should she believe a conversation with a supernatural being? **** Then a few days later when Madison visited, the women sat at an outdoor cafe on a sunny, warm day discussing the weather, politics and interesting movies. At first, they abandoned all controversial subjects. Looking chirpy and pert as usual, Madison had her hair drawn to the top of her head. She wore a sun hat and sunglasses over her eyes and freckled nose. Kaitlyn told Madison the story of her teasing and calling Greg Blackwell, enticing him in intimate ways. "Euu," said Madison. "It sounds like a Halloween love story. A spooky one at that." "I don't think of my ghostly seducer as being sinister," said Kaitlyn. "It's not right of me to tease him...or it, I realize. I think I do it because I'm not, well you know--" "Sexually active?" asked Madison. "And you're horny?" "Yeah." Madison made a tsk-tsk sound and then sipped some more cola through a red straw. She looked down the street, seemingly thinking over all that Kaitlyn revealed. "If you want my two cents...you need to dump this supernatural sweetie. It's...I don't know...eerie don't you think, Kait? What if in reality he is an evil spirit? Then what? They do exist, you know. Just ask your average churchgoer. There really is a whole 'nother world out there unseen to us. Sometimes it's a dangerous realm, too." "I know, Madison. I've not summoned him...or it recently. I've become a little edgy lately. For the last two weeks I've not talked to him and pretended that he isn't there." "There's a ghostbuster in Cape Girardeau. I forget the name. Let me go home, find the address and call you back."
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Chapter Five
Kaitlyn stood outside the empty storefront of the ghostbuster service, gazing at the street numbers. It was the address that Madison had given her. With her hand, she cupped the side of her face as she looked through the smoky glass into the cobwebby distance of the vacant room. Perhaps the business had moved. Looking around the sidewalk and studying several other storefronts, she spotted a couple of places she could go inside. The first establishment housed a tattoo parlor where several shirtless men stood in front eyeing and wolf whistling at women who walked by. The second was a launder-mat where screaming and fighting kids played near the door. The third and closest establishment stood next door. She'd go there because it seemed the best alternative. Feeling as if someone or some thing guided her, she re-draped her purse strap higher on her shoulder. Determinedly, she walked toward the heavy, etched glass door. In curiosity, she studied the unique sign. Overhead, a crystal ball decorated a three by five foot board that hung by black chain from the overhang above a heavy door. MAGGIE MAY HIGGINS--PSYCHIC & PALM READING. An elongated sigh of frustration left her lips. Kaitlyn abhorred wild goose chases. Perhaps the ghostbuster business flopped; it didn't sound like a lucrative venture, anyway. Feeling silly, she nevertheless entered. Immediately the room struck her as eerie. Drapes undulated along the black walls even though the air had stilled. A short, silver-haired woman stood behind a desk. She wore a flowered colorful dress. Time had deeply etched her face and her eyes were inquisitive and dark. It was funny, she didn't look like a psychic; she looked more the grandmotherly type. But then again, what did psychics look like? She wriggled her fingers at Kaitlyn. "Come in my dear. I was expecting you." 26
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With a groan, Kaitlyn stepped forward. "Uh, do I know you?" she asked, in a confused tone, running the flat of her hand over her tight jeans then crossing her slender arms at her waist. "No. But, I know you. I've been summoned to help a departed soul, Greg Blackwell." "How?" Not answering, the psychic motioned Kaityn and said, "This way." A little fearfully, Kaitlyn followed the woman down a hall. Surreal and spooky, lighted orbs bounced and bobbed on the walls. "I cannot reveal many things." With an outspread hand, she motioned Kaitlyn forward. "Take a seat." She glanced at the dark room in which the lady led her. "What kind of music is that?" "Greg has sent it." Kaitlyn swallowed hard. "The music? He sent it?" The woman took a seat across the room and crossed her chubby legs. "He wonders if you like it." Now she really was scared; Greg communicated with her through a medium. "Yyes. It's nice." Kaitlyn's heart thudded in her chest. "Don’t be afraid my dear," the female psychic said, mesmerizing her. A black easy chair slowly leaned back with her in it. "I was sent to intercept you and relay a message." She blinked at the woman. "You were? Why?" "By the way, Ghostbusters would try to do away with him. Besides, the place next door is out of business, anyway." Her lips parted in surprise. "Oh." "Greg wants to ask you something through me." "Why doesn't he appear to me like he does on occasion?" "All conditions have to be right for you to be able to see him. It drains his energy and he can only do it so often." "I see," said Kaitlyn. "Tell him, okay." 27
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A slight breeze tickled her arms and a green mist appeared. Kaitlyn could smell the exotic cologne that she associated with Greg. She could feel his presence, he was in the room. "He's here." Kaitlyn whispered. The psychic said, "A Mr. Blackwell, yes. He's here." "Where is he?" Confusion and dread clouded her mind. "I--I'm sorry. But I don't know a--" Her eyes darted around the ten by twelve black, dimly lit, windowless room as the dancing orbs Kaitlyn had first seen in the hallway entered then dotted and bobbed across the ceiling. "He's in the room and I am the go-between, the medium." "He's dead. Greg is," said Kaitlyn. "Right. As you know he lives in another realm though." Kaitlyn didn't respond right away. "He likes it how you make yourself come in the shower. He said he wants you as his own and that he has been watching you all the time." A thoughtful pause followed. With that, Kaitlyn rose from the chair. "I have to go." Second thoughts abounded. "How demented this whole thing is, talking with the dead." The woman raised a hand. "Wait! He tells me he wants you to somehow use the vial of potion. I cannot understand him." "Potion? What does he say?" "He can come to life if you use it." "That cannot be. It's not real, is it?" "'It is used' he says," said the psychic. Not taking a step toward the door, she hesitated. "He asks, 'Do you want me, Kait?' What should I tell him?" "Tell him...tell him...yes." Kaitlyn feared she'd awaken and find that it had been a dream. The idea of bringing a ghost to life, just to have him bed her down, ending her celibacy, making her come was...silly, like a fairy tale gone awry. However demented, the idea intrigued her. Mm. Greg Blackwell was or had been a hunk and a half. She wouldn't mind taking him to her bed, she thought closing her eyes. What would it be like to let such a man slide her bra down and nip her breasts? Or his pliant lips supped on her bud. Mm, yes. Her pussy 28
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dampened at the thought. Oh, she just couldn't tolerate thinking about it any more. It was so illicit, yet so very tempting to obsess over. "I must go," she told the psychic suddenly in a state of panic, knowing Greg probably read her thoughts. Before she exited, the psychic eyed her quizzically and said, "Greg requested that you save the vial for when he gets there. He said that he will come and quench your needs." Tears stung under her eyelids. Her hand trembled as she grasped the doorknob. She was spooked. "I don't know about all this...I really don't," she muttered, experiencing confusion and mixed thoughts. Kaitlyn left, running-walking toward her car. As she fumbled with her keys, the ghost whispered her name and his handsome face appeared in her mind. Kaitlyn gasped, climbed behind the steering wheel and, with difficulty, stuck the keys into the ignition, shocked and astonished. Feeling hot and needy, her hair suddenly became charged with static electricity. She had never met an equally handsome, alluring non-ghost male. Later however, in the shower, her body cried out for his love offerings. She also sought him on a mental level, recalling the long, lingering chats along the banks of the slow-moving river in her dreams. She remembered the poetry he had written. Stop it! She admonished herself. It was an impossible fantasy for a living woman to have a relationship with a supernatural being. A ghost could not become a tangible, touchable person, could he? **** Needing to disregard her feelings for Greg and start anew, Kaitlyn accepted a dinner invitation from a co-worker. For the evening she had dressed in her lowest cut silky, clinging blue dress and stiletto heels, drawing his undivided attention. Appropriately, for a first date, soon after dinner had ended Ryan escorted her home. Together they stood outside her apartment door saying their goodbyes. "Work, work, work," said Ryan Bunten, a white man who was forty or so. He was handsome enough, with his light brown hair and green eyes, but Kaitlyn realized that she had made a mistake. Why she went out with him was beyond her. He reached for her hand when she wasn't ready. "Well, I guess I’d better go inside," she told him feigning a yawn. "Kaitlyn, please...maybe we can catch a movie tom--" “Thanks anyway, Ryan. Maybe I’ll talk to you Saturday. I had a real nice time.” 29
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She heard Ryan mumbling with frustration as he departed her door en route to his car. Gently she let the drapes fall back into place and began unbuttoning her blouse, getting ready to go to bed. Perhaps she did over-react. A sigh escaped her lips as she retreated into the bedroom, flipped on the lights and sank on the edge of her mattress. Leaning, she shed her feet of the high heels, rose, then hung her jacket in the closet, stopping for a moment to gaze at the ominous green cellophane-wrapped basket which held the vial of Love Potion. A tug curled low in her abdomen and the voice in her mind was soft and seductive. Using the vial, I can materialize. "Greg?" Silence prevailed. Who was she kidding? She desperately needed what only Greg Blackwell promised. What if the potion was poisonous or caused some sort of sinister after-effects? Kaitlyn was weary of worrying about all the "what if's."
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Chapter Six
Halloween night, and hour after her failed date, she was fresh out of the shower and wrapped in her favorite robe. Kaitlyn peered out the bedroom window of her apartment toward car lights that streamed along a nearby highway. A siren screamed. Neighbors climbed out of their car into the chilly night air and crossed a leaf-filled yard toward the front door of her apartment building. Across the street candles flickered in jack o' lanterns. It was then she felt his presence and hesitated, unafraid and glad he came. Before he mentally spoke, she knew his intentions. You are a beautiful woman and I must have you, now, tonight. He stood behind her, breathing in her hair; she felt his hand on her shoulders then lightly moving on the nape of her neck. But when she turned, she could not see him. "Greg?" I am here because you want me. He could rid her of her aching need of him. But because of his presence and obvious plans, she felt a little undone. Nevertheless, she wanted him. "Should I drink the vial of--" You don't drink it, silly. She looked around the quiet bedroom. "What do I do with it then?" Get it down from the closet and I'll show you. "Oh." She didn't move toward the closet. "I don't know--what about disease or I can get, well you know." My cum is safe and won't make you pregnant. So you can relax and enjoy it. "Now what was I going to do?" Open the basket and get the gold vial. I'll show you. The voice in her head sounded deep and darkly masculine. 31
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"Why are you here, Greg, appearing for me?" she asked, then tied the belt of her terry robe a little tighter around her slender waist. I exist because you invented me. Not only that--I care about you. After falling silent and taking a steadying breath, Kaitlyn forced a smile. The old familiar tugging pang quivered low in her belly. The profound need of him reared again. Feeling the pressure of his hands on the fullness of her derriere and his swollen crotch on her side, she realized she could not deny nature's demands any more and remain sane. He pulled her shower-wet hair out of her eyes and she felt a slight pressure at her temple where his lips apparently were. His head lowered and his lips touched hers. Before she melted into a wet spot in the soft blue carpeting of her bedroom, she crossed to the closet, rocked forward and took the green cellophane basket from the top of the closet. Leaning, she flipped on the bedroom light and closed the curtains. Sitting in the middle of the bed, with a yank she pulled the ribbon off and peeled the green cellophane down, exposing a gold vial and the green vial. She ran a manicured fingernail down the gold vial. "I don't drink it, then?" Kaitlyn asked softly. No my love. Rub the gold lotion into my skin and soon you'll see me. "Well...what about the green vial. What is that for?" I'll tell you later. It's a surprise. Still, she hesitated. He was not even a live human, but oh, she wanted him nearly as much as she wanted food to eat and water to drink. He put a hand up to her arm; she knew because the sleeve of her robe tickled her skin. I'm not going to hurt you. Against her better judgment, she pulled the stopper from the lips of the vial and poured a few drops into her hand. Leave the dim lights on, I want you to see me. So she left a night light near the bed turned on. With pressing and plying hand motions, she rubbed the oil onto his arms and the velvety mat of hair on his chest. Slowly, she began to see male sprigs of hair and the corded muscles on his arms. Wanting to see his face, she rubbed it onto his forehead and into his raven hair, loving the exploration and feel of him. He didn't appear at all translucent as he had in the past. Kneeling before him, she poured a few drops into her hand and rubbed it onto his long, 32
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strong legs. His body felt strong and virile. Nearly finished, she looked into his now visible eyes and froze. He spoke aloud. "Do my cock. Make it come alive in your hands. Mmm." She could tell that he enjoyed the rub down too. A lot in fact. And when she began rubbing the Love Potion into his erect cock and heavy scrotum she asked, "You like me doing this, don't you?" "Oh yes." So she did it more vigorously, until suddenly she realized he stood before her, a man in the flesh, living, breathing and highly aroused. He reached for her hands and drew her up to his chest. Greg looked down, his gaze penetrating. "We can make love for real now Kaitlyn. I have six hours." "You'll disappear again?" Kaitlyn asked, her body pressing against his, seeking his hands on her body and his warmth. She looked into his incredibly male, disturbingly handsome face waiting for his answer. Fearing she may not see him again after their encounter. "Yes, my love," he said with seductive warmth. Happy that the moment had finally arrived, she swallowed. "Take me then, however you want. Gentle or rough, I don't care." A shuddering breath left her lips as he began untying the belt of her robe. He knelt and took the slippers off her feet then in a single motion he took the robe, leaving her standing before him naked. Concentrating in a sensual way, Greg studied Kaitlyn's curves, his approval sparkling in his dark eyes and expression. She was hungry for him and denied herself of him for so long. He rose to a standing position and grasped her chin. With slow care, he kissed her in long slow and drugging tastes. Between her parted lips, he inserted his tongue until it mingled with hers. All the while, one hand cupped her mocha breast and the other cupped her taut derriere pressing her to him. Her nipples rubbed against his chest until they stood wanting his attention. "Oh Greg." "You taste good," he murmured. "And you do too." He bent to her breasts and took a nipple between his teeth, tasting it. First one he suckled then the other. 33
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And she became confused. How could a ghost make her feel so...unbelievably. Greg finished her thought. "Hot and bothered," he said, after a husky chuckle. In one sweeping motion, he took her to her bed, laying her among the pillows, kissing her non-stop. "I am yours, Greg." "I love all about you. Your opinions, your praise of my pathetic poetry and your gentle ways..." It was a moment she wanted to last forever. She knew he could not stay. What would she do if he left? She'd miss him so. Her lips parted, as she anticipated his next kiss. Again he had read her mind. "Kait, the other vial. Use it whenever you want me to return. Just rub a drop or two onto your pulse points and voila I'll return." The news cheered her; she felt lighthearted, happy she'd get to see him often. "I'll bring more Love Potion. You can use it up to three times a week." "So you left the Love Potion at my going away party?" "I did. Are you mad at me?" A lone laugh left her lips. "Mmm, no. Not at all. I'm so glad you did." Lying under him on the bed, she basked in his attention. His spread hands inserted into her hair, his thighs between hers, spreading her, exposing her damp pussy for their delectation. "And so am I." With the mystery of the vials uncovered, he scooted down on the bed, his head between her legs and spread the lips of her pussy. She felt his pliant lips surrounding and suckling her most intimate organ. And, it felt so good. Sensation, like pouring water, awe-inspiring, flowed through her body like a gully washer down a dry ravine. Greg began pleasuring her as no other man ever had. Fearing he'd quit, it was all she could to lie still and stay spread. In fact, she'd die if he stopped. A guttural laugh escaped his mouth. His head raised he said, "You like this I see." Was he serious? "Greg, I do." And he resumed the unspeakable act that she so dearly loved. "I love you doing that." Tears streamed down her cheeks. When he raised his head the next time he said, "I can do this for hours if you'd like." 34
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Ribbons of pleasure spiraled through her body. "Oh...mmm...thank you." She felt so indigent as he grazed. Her body, a twitching mass of nerves, arced so he could have adequate access. His tone husky he said, "The pleasure is mine." Her breathing quickened and her body glossed with sweat as she lay back letting him feast. Occasionally, he whispered her name. Kaitlyn leaned forward, took his head in her hands and ran her fingers through his hair. "Yes, yes, oh yes!" she cried out as her moist pussy clenched hard. The hot wet flick of his tongue on her super-sensitive clit caused her great anguish, so great that she drew in a gasping breath as her body tautened. Nevertheless he continued the wonderful lashing, expanding Kaitlyn's simultaneous anguish and pleasure. Blood coursed through her veins during the wondrous life-changing orgasm. She'd never feel or be the same again with any man. For her there was and always would be one man. Greg. A few minutes passed. "Greg, I need you in me. Please I do. Oh God! FUCK ME! NOW!" His hot dick was ready; it stood to an inch under his navel, engorged and darkened. He rose over her, cupped her heaving breasts in his hands and wallowed them to her chest as she gazed at his silhouette. How could such a massive cock fit into her tiny hole? "I'll go easy." One hand held hers above her head. Greg was such a virile man. At first, only his fingers entered. Kaitlyn cried out, "Oh my God!" when his hands took hold of her thighs and parted her even more widely. He pressed the tip of his cock into her juicy, squeezing sheath. "Are you okay?" Her breath exploded from her lungs as though someone or something had knocked the wind out of her. The sensation was sinful if not wicked. "Oh yes, yes." It was an incredibly exhilarating experience. And as he moved the sensation liquified and she also moved under him, lifting and offering herself. "Mmm," Greg murmured. "OH MY GOD!"
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Carol McKenzie
A sensual dance followed that was as old as man. It was as rhythmical as the coming four seasons, sunrise and sunset and the rising and receding ocean tides. Natural. Exhilarating. Slap! Slap! Slap! The headboard tapped the wall. He rammed deeper, harder and quicker until small screams erupted from her throat. Their bodies slick with sweat, Greg pulled and pushed into her repeatedly, sweeping her away with him in his urgent quest. And soon there she was, an unmanageable, crazed animal, whimpering and wanting satisfaction, moving toward the moment of their mutual climax. A shudder left his lips and he slowed considerably. With one last hard thrust, he shot his juices into her and for a while they rode the crest. Incomparable, unforgettable release arrived. Seconds evolved into minutes. Normalcy returned as did the familiar surroundings of her warm semi-dark bedroom. Tree limbs scratched the side of the apartment building. "You were wonderful," he said, then laughed deep in his throat. "You definitely were." Leaning down, he reached for the covers and drew them over their unclothed bodies. After pressing a loving peck to her lips, he relaxed. "There'll be a lot more of that in the days and years to come. It'll get better. I promise, my love." "I can't see how." "You'll see." He continued in deep tones, "It's a given." He'd made her feel so good. Their legs twining like ivy, he wrapped her in his strong arms. Satisfied and spent, they tumbled into a drugging sleep. Kaitlyn felt safe and loved as she succumbed to the darkness. For her, dreams and images enlarged and shrunk. Would she lose him? After all he was an apparition, a being not from her earthly realm. Her eyes slitted. Something or someone left her side. Unsure of the time, after forcing herself awake, Kaitlyn looked to the opposite side of the bed by dim light still in sleep's fuzzy fringes. It was empty. In a panic, "Greg?" she asked, holding a pillow to her nakedness. I'm not far away. Tears welled as if she suffered a deep wound. Her voice rose in distress. "Where though?"
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GHOSTLY SEDUCTION
Greg returned to his translucent state, she noticed, and peered at her from the shadows. Remember what I said, Kait. Any time you want me, just daub a drop or two of the potion onto your pulse points, and rub it in. I love you my darling and I'll reappear. Dear Lord God, she didn't want him to leave her. "Forever you will come to me?" Yes, my love, forever. Now go to sleep. I'm right here. "Okay." Relieved, still feeling secure and loved, she lay back and tumbled into slumber knowing her ghost-lover watched over her and would come to her at a moment's notice.
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Carol McKenzie
About the Author
Carol McKenzie is a free spirited woman who enjoys quilting, sewing, and oil and watercolor painting. She attended a university and received a Bachelor of Arts degree as an adult student. She loves dogs and is raising a rambunctious puppy who walks across her keyboard when she tries to write. As you may have guessed, Carol's favorite new past time is writing. Recently she began writing romantic erotica and is loving it.
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