William Decker, a 19 year old college student, yawned and rubbed his tired eyes. The drone of his powerful V8 engine was humming him to sleep. The adventurous nature of the trip had sustained him during the first leg of his journey, despite 14 continuous hours of non-stop partying the night before. But, now the newness and adrenalin were wearing off. He opened a pack of no-doze and took two tablets. He shook the coffee thermos and found it empty. He needed to stop.
He blinked at the blue road signs as they passed, looking for a place to stay, or a place to gas his fuel-hungry 383 Malibu engine. He grabbed a large plastic bottle of Dr Pepper out of an open ice chest and held it in the crook of his arm. He opened the bottle while he drove dangerously using his bottle-ladened elbow. After a few daring swerves and swoops he drank from the bottle, once again cheating death in an attempt to assuage his thirst, and wash down the pills.
William sighed and reclosed the bottle. He had planned his trip to avoid New Orleans. He had been told it was a confusing mass of one-way streets. He didn't mind, he enjoyed driving at night, but his choices for gas stations were limited. Most closed after ten. Mile after mile passed. A blue sign appeared in the distance. He watched it hopefully until the word "gas" appeared. With a slight grin he slowed and turned up the offramp onto to highway 51. The roar of his engine echoed off the trees and cement as he accelerated up the ramp.
William expected to see a gas station at the intersection at the top of the ramp, but was disappointed to find the area deserted. One pale yellow street light lit a coin-operated ice machine and a dirty telephone booth. He stopped in the intersection and looked both ways. He reluctantly turned north. He must find gas.
The pills were beginning to work. William drove for several minutes wide awake and happy. It was a nice night. He looked out his window at the full moon reflecting off the water of a swamp. It was beautiful. Frogs and crickets sang as he passed. The smell of growing things perfumed the air. He had seen lightning in the distance earlier, but all was quiet now. He hummed along with the music on the radio, while tapping on the steering wheel.
A distant object appeared in the road. At first he thought it was a light or fire, but as he drew closer he saw that it was a bank of fog extending across the road. The moonlight was playing tricks with the fog, it seemed to glow and pulse with a life of it's own. William felt his skin prickle as he drew closer. His nostrils flared and the hair stood up on the back of his neck. Something was wrong, very wrong, as if he were sensing evil. How in the hell...
William entered the fog. He had a million fleeting visions of sex, murder, and debauchery. Naked, dirty, withering bodies touched his own. The stench of hell filled his nostrils, a sweet cloying, evil smell of death and rotting bodies.
William saw a beautiful woman approaching him through the fog, she was nearly naked. A thin chiffon gown flowed around her. He felt himself becoming aroused. She held a hand out in a friendly gesture of peace and friendship, or so he believed.
He was distracted by dozens of warm, slimy hands touching his body, stimulating and further arousing him. He knew they were sucking the life out of him, but he didn't care. He moaned in passion and horror, giving the beautiful woman an imploring glance. He felt the creature, whatever it was, was using her. The woman seemed to exert a great force of will, screamed and melted into the road. He felt a immense loss. Amid the chaos and unpleasantness, he had felt a kinship with the beautiful woman. Hours seemed to pass. Bodiless faces appeared in the fog, and passed beneath the car, laughing insanely as they disappeared. The hands continued to touch his body. The horrible stench continued filling his nostrils with the stink of death.
For an eternity visions of sex with beasts, sex followed by murder, or dirty disgusting and perverted sex filled his vision. It was being forced on him by a will stronger than his own. He knew it's purpose. It was trying to defeat his will to live. By giving pleasure, and associating it with guilt, it was waiting for William to give up in shame and despair. He saw what looked like a demon with a three foot cock fucking a woman to death, while she changed into many different screaming women.
William felt a mouth on his cock, even though he was fully dressed. Naked, wet bodies touched him. He felt many stinking pussies sliding up and down on his body, leaving a trail of wet slime wherever they touched. Something hot and hard was shoved up his ass. He screamed as it began pistoning in and out in time with the mouth on his cock. He came explosively. The mouth continued to suck, keeping him hard. The mouth broke contact and he felt his cock fill a warm void, either an invisible pussy or an ass. It was much too hot, burning his sensitive flesh. He started to scream an objection, but he couldn't speak. He tried to pray, but he couldn't remember the words. A chant filled his head. At first it was so low as to go unnoticed, but eventually it grew louder until it thundered in his brain. It was a friendly chorus of voices aimed at releasing William from his hell. He tried to plead with them, but they didn't seem to notice. They continued their chant, growing ever- stronger.
All time stood still when William suddenly passed out of the fog. His car was just leaving the road. Two tires were treading on the short green grass of the shoulder. He swerved the car back onto the road while his wild eyes searched for signs of the previous horror and debauchery. All was normal. Had he gone insane? He could still hear chanting in the distance. A firm, authoritative type of chorus.
Panting for breath, he sat driving automatically, as mile after mile passed. His mind went blank. He did not think, nor did he sense the passing of time. All time seemed to stand still. He could still hear the chant in his head. Would it ever go away? Would it ever leave him alone to live a normal life again?
Then it did leave. A chill filled his soul where the chant had been. He blinked, suddenly aware of his surroundings. He saw a Shell sign and a collection of lights glowing in the distance. He gave a great, shuddering sigh, as if awaking from a horrible nightmare. He looked down at himself to find his clothes still neat, clean, and dry. He had been sure...
William pulled into Hammond at 1:13 in the morning. Forty five minutes had passed since he entered the fog. It seemed like weeks. He was surprised to find the gas station still open. It was at the edge of town. He pulled in and sighed in relief. He'd just made it, the gauge was on empty. William watched an 18 year old boy in greasy blue clothes put down a magazine and come outside.
"What can I do you for?" he asked tiredly.
"Gas, high test."
"Gotcha," he said, finding the gas cap and sticking the nozzle in with a clatter.
"Is there a hotel around here?" William asked, looking in his mirror at the attendant. He appeared to be thinking.
"No, not unless you go south to Norlans, but I wouldn't recommend it until morning."
"New Orleans," he said slowly and patiently.
"I took I12 to avoid New Orleans," William muttered.
"There's an all-night restaurant," the attendant said brightly.
"Other end of town," he pointed, as if William didn't know where the other end of town was. "There's a park across from it, truckers stop there and sleep."
"Thanks. Hey..." he stopped uncertainly. He didn't want to look like an idiot, but something had happened. Something horrible, something supernatural. He wanted an explanation. He wanted to confirm his sanity.
"Have you seen anything strange in the swamp back there?" William asked, pointing behind him.
"No!" the man said rudely. William was looking at the man in the mirror, so he saw his face go pale. The man licked his lips nervously, giving William a guilty, fleeting glance.
"Really? What about a strange fog?"
The gas nozzle clicked, even though the car was only three quarters full. The attendant slammed the nozzle back into the pump and came up to the window.
"Seven dollars and forty six cents," he growled with his hand out. William started to object, then thought better of it. He handed the man ten dollars.
"Keep the change," he muttered.
"Thanks," the man said reluctantly. He turned, then hesitated. "Hey, mister."
"Yes," William said hopefully.
"Don't go back there at night. Stay in the park."
"Why?" William asked, but the attendant was already gone.
William ate at the all-night diner. He took his time over several cups of coffee, watching the truckers come and go. One thing was consistent, nobody went south on highway 51. Everyone headed north. William slept at the park. He would not return to the swamp at night. The rest of William's trip was uneventful.
Over the next few years William earned his Bachelors at UC Berkeley, then returned to Florida several years later. He never forgot that horrible night in Louisiana. No matter where he went or what he did, it was always in the back of his mind.
William slid his hard cock into the soft, wet pussy of Megan Gray. She was naked, bent over the back of an overstuffed chair. William huff and groaned above her silky smooth back. Her pussy felt so damned good on his cock. She was giving little kitten cries as he fucked her brutally. She liked it hard, and so did William.
William's legs were growing tired. He pulled out of her pussy. She gasped in disappointment, turning to give him a desperate look.
"On the couch," he whispered with a smile. She followed him to the couch. He laid on the couch and held up his arms. She climbed on top and melted against him, quickly repositioning her pussy and sliding down his hard cock. They gasped together. She began riding quickly and roughly, now in command of the situation. William didn't mind. Megan was on the top of his list, in the little black book. She could have it any way she wanted it.
"Oh yes," she gasped. She had her head thrown back, facing the ceiling. Her pussy was hot, very hot. He hadn't felt such heat since... NO! He didn't want to think about that now. Not now. Why wouldn't it ever go away? Why had he compared every living woman on Earth, to the beautiful woman in the fog. He dated nobody who didn't measure up to her standards.
"Oh yes!" Megan screamed, in the throes of orgasm. She clamped her legs tightly against his body and ground her pussy into his pelvis. He waited only a moment before his cock spasmed, spurting cum into her wet, steamy pussy. Megan continued riding until she brought herself to a second orgasm, just seconds before he grew too sensitive to allow movement. He held her in a rigid grip, gritting his teeth. She withered, moving too much for a sensitive cock.
As he waited William enjoyed looking at the slender, sleek form of his favorite girl. Her long brown hair bordered on blonde, due to the hot Florida sun. Her body was darkly tanned, her breasts nearly perfect. He had seen better, but they had been sculpted by a plastic surgeon.
Megan was still moaning in the aftermath of her orgasms. She sat facing the ceiling. Her neck was slender and perfect, the muscles standing out in relief. She finally looked down and smile. She laid on his chest and pulled his head into a fervent kiss. He closed his eyes and accepted her tongue as it entered his mouth. She moaned, pressing her breasts into his hairy chest and rotating to stimulate her nipples. Her cock-filled pussy moved gently.
She was the sexiest living creature William had ever known. She could give herself multiple orgasms, while he sat watching TV. At the moment she was sitting astride his wet and wilted cock, sliding gently in an attempt to bring about a third orgasm. She never quit, never had enough.
Her firm thighs were clamped against his body. Her pussy felt hot, very hot, on his wilted cock. When he opened his eyes, he was looking into a pair of slitted lizard eyes in a red, blotchy face. Her hair moved and undulated like a million snakes. She laughed into his mouth. He felt her tongue extending, filling his mouth, going down his throat. He started chocking and struggling in fear.
William threw the evil being off his body with a great heave. She screamed like an evil hag as she flew across the room into the wall. Her haggish screams turned to the cries of a woman. The face shimmered and returned to that of Megan. She was crying, giving him a hurt, outraged look.
"Why!" she screamed in pain and fury. "Why!" she screamed again. William had no answer.
"You fucking asshole!" she screamed. She grabbed up her clothing from the floor, cursing as she stormed out of his apartment. He knew she would never return. But his mind was on the horror he had seen. He would miss Megan later. He could never explain, even to himself.
"Megan," he whispered in regret. He slugged the back of the couch three times violently, then wilted in defeat. It would never leave him in peace. This had been the first illusion. It would not be the last, he knew this.
The Southeastern Business Park in Gainseville Florida was small, in comparison to most complexes in the area. Stately pines lined an asphalt parking lot. Fruit trees bordered the parking spaces. Flowers separated the parking lot from the buildings.
Seven domed buildings were connected by a quaint covered walkway. Southeastern Business Park was an exclusive park, housing an insurance agent, a branch of the local bank, and an advertising firm. Last in the row of buildings was Brady & Associates, an architectural firm. In the last window on the right, belonging to Brady & Associates, sat a man on the edge of the desk, staring out the window across the parking lot. His eyes did not see the beautiful trees, flowers, the brown grass waving in the wind, or the crows screaming as they flew from one tree to another. His eyes were focused inward, on a fog which he had seen 17 years earlier.
Why were the visions haunting him now? Why, after all this time, was that night haunting him, ruining his life, trying to destroy him? Life had never been quite the same since that night. Some would call him lucky, he had conclusive proof of an afterlife. But he knew better. Part of him was missing, still trapped in that fog. And the fog wished to devour the rest of him. He knew it. He could feel it. It owned him, body and soul.
"I won't go back," William said viciously.
"Bill?" a familiar voice called from behind him.
"Huh? What?" he asked, startled.
"I asked you if you want to join me at the club for lunch. It's steak and lobster today."
"No, thanks Philip. Not today."
"Something bothering you?"
"Yes, I... left something in Louisiana," William finally said, coming to a decision. "I guess it's time to go find it."
"You have about seven years of vacation time coming, take all you need," Philip said grandly. "Just be back on Monday."
"I wish I could, but it will take some time to prepare. I can't go in there cold. Knowledge is power."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Philip looked askance at him.
"Nothing. Just thinking out loud."
"Hey, Bill, have you got an ex I didn't know about?"
"Huh? Oh no," William said, his mind already on other things. "No, not at all. It's just an old fear I have to conquer."
"Well good luck. Phobias can be a bitch. See you next week," he laughed, then waved closing the door behind him.
"I sure hope so," William muttered. He looked out the window, pulling on his bottom lip. He would start today. No sense in putting it off. He needed to learn all he could about ghosts and evil, and how to defeat them.
"Damned!" he said, remembering Megan's face. "Dam, dam, dam," he cried, slamming his fist down on the desk.
William turned North on highway 51. This time he was surprised to find that everything was different. A McDonalds, KFC, and Wendy's shared space with a Holiday Inn and four gas stations. He ignored them all, heading North toward Hammond. The swamp looked less hostile in the daytime. He had no doubt that it was filled with poisonous spiders and snakes, and of course the ever-present alligators. But, these were natural enemies. He feared the supernatural. He studied the swamp until he spotted the shell station far ahead.
"Hammond had become an unbelievable metropolis. Even the Shell Station had changed. It was now a modern mini- mart without the previous garage. Hammond was more than ten times it's previous size. As he passed through the town he recognized the all-night diner. It had been turned into a Denny's at some time in the past. It was almost unchanged, except for the new siding and a new sign. A modern truck stop had gone in next door, dramatically reducing its popularity.
He climbed out of his Navigator and activated the alarm. Stretching before he entered the diner, a 2,000 year old amulet pulled out of his shirt, hanging by it's chain on his chest. He quickly shoved it back inside, but not before several occupants has seen it.
"Nice jewelry," the waitress said, while leading him to a table.
"It protects me from nosy people."
"Good luck with that," she snorted.
"Are there many nosy people around here?" he asked.
"Hundreds, and not all of them are residents."
"Now who's nosy? What would you like?" she asked as she handed him a menu.
"What can I get that hasn't been frozen?"
"Breakfast," she said with a knowing smile. Not many people caught on to the fact that they warmed up TV dinner style meals and dumped them on a plate.
"Coffee, bacon, eggs, and toast. Over easy and white," he said, anticipating her questions. She smiled and left. He looked out across what had been the park, 17 years before, now it was apartments. She returned with his coffee. She leaned against him with a slender hip, as she filled his cup. He gave her a winning smile. She was extremely young and fuckable. He wouldn't mind a little diversion. She wasn't up to Megan's standards, but her southern accent more than made up for it.
"Been working here long?" he asked.
"Six long hours," she gasped.
"No, I meant in years?"
"Naw, I just started two months ago."
"Who has worked here the longest?" he asked, looking around.
"Millie. She's been here since '83."
"Really?" he asked in sudden interest. "Is she here?"
"No, she's on the midnight shift. Why, did you lose something?"
"So to speak," he nodded.
"You're not going to get weird on me, are you?"
"What?" he asked with a chuckle.
"You know, weird. As in ghost, devils, and UFO's?"
"Why, have other's asked questions?"
"Are you a reporter?"
"No, I'm an architect. I specialize in designing bridges."
"Well there are plenty of bridges around here," she said, still leaning against him. He lowered his hand and touched her leg, just below the knee. She didn't move or cry out.
"If you've been working for six hours, you must get off soon," he said in a low voice.
"One hour and 53 minutes," she whispered in return.
"Is there a hotel around here?"
"Boy, you work fast."
"No, I need a place to stay," he turned red in embarassment.
"I don't mind. Sure, about a mile on down," she nodded past the truck stop.
"Can you show me?"
"You betcha. Just take your time over your coffee," she said with a youthful smile. William was thrilled. He loved making new conquests, especially with girls 20 years younger than himself. But a nagging worry bothered him. His thoughts returned to Megan. He licked his dry lips, while following the waitress with his eyes. Why worry, it couldn't happen again? His heart raced as he looked at the sexy legs beneath her ridiculous striped dress. Her pony tail swayed behind her when she hurried from one table to another.
What a girl, he thought to himself. He loved country girls, they were so... clean, refreshing. City girls went home after work, put on a pound of makeup, a bushel of clothes, and a load of bull. He had seen the same act, the same routine, as if each girl had rehearsed it out of some play book. Sure, there were some variations, but nothing new. He had seen it all. There were two primary acts, the black females who did a lot of head shaking and pointing, and the white females who did a lot of hair flipping and mysterious looks. Of course there were so-called strong females who tried to act like a man, and were just as desirable as one. They stood tall for women's rights. Hell, women had more rights than men already.
"Hey, are you in there?" the waitress said, holding a pot of coffee in front of his face. She stood in front of William, looking down at him in concern.
"Sorry, I was thinking."
"You want more coffee?" she asked, looking from his full plates, to his empty cup.
"Yeah, sure," he said, glance at her name tag. "Jane", it read. She filled his cup, winked and left. That was refreshing, he thought, no hair flip, no pretense, just coffee and a wink. Kind of like Santa.
The end of her shift came swiftly. William followed Jane home.
William helped take off her ridiculous dress.
"How can they make you wear those?"
"They say wear them or walk. Jobs are scarce, and most jobs in the country are for life. That's why Millie is still there."
"Oh yeah, I have to speak with her."
"Well we've got 8 hours," she said brightly.
"I hope it's enough," he laughed, pushing her back on the bed. She fell with a giggle. Her underwear was all white, it made her look virginal.
Her long black hair was spread out on the bed around her. Her firm, meaty legs were open and lifted. He pressed a hand over her cone-shaped breast.
"My god, you're beautiful," he said quietly. He meant it. She was so young it hurt, and he had come to realize that youth alone was beautiful.
"You must have seen plenty of pretty girls in Florida."
"Sure. How's that song go? You can comb my hair, undress me everywhere? That applies to most of the girls I've known back home. They are plastic. Plastic faces, fake blonde hair, plastic breasts. They all look the same."
"God, it can't be that bad," she laughed.
"Just about. Take off your underwear," he urged.
"You too, this ain't a free show."
"Agreed," he said, undressing quickly. He watched her breasts as they appeared. Creamy white with pink, almost invisible areolas, and tiny little nipples. She was so young, he almost expected large, puffy nipples. He leaned down and captured one nipple in his lips, as he finished pulling off his pants and socks.
Jane slid out of her panties. He stopped and looked at her slightly hairy abdomen above a small clam-like pussy. He shook his head in wonder. Exquisite! Normally, he didn't like a hairy pussy, but she was just hairy enough to make it look sexy. Her pussy was small and girlish. Very desirable.
He again captured her right nipple with his lips and sucked. His right hand snaked across her body and tweaked her left nipple, eliciting a moan of pleasure from her sweet red lips.
William decided to take it one step at a time. He would not fall for the illusion if it occurred again. He sucked gently, while his hand went down to her pussy. She moaned, arching her back, pushing her pussy against his hand. He watched, mesmerized by the changing emotions on her face, and wary of the return of an illusion. Would he ever trust his senses again?
William broke contact with Jane's right nipple. He looked down at her sexy, compact body and shuddered. She was so young, so damned fresh and sexy. He didn't deserve such pleasure. Scrambling backwards, he made his way beside her and dropped his mouth to her gentle mound. Pushing her leg aside to make more room, he gave her pussy a full-lipped kiss. She sighed and lifted her womanhood to meet his mouth. He sucked and tongued her young flesh urgently, wishing that he could crawl right up inside her and fuck her from the inside out. His tongue and mouth had her moaning and thrashing on the bed.
William stopped and rolled her over on her stomach.
"No, my turn," Jane gasped, sitting up and pushing him down."
"But I was just..."
"Too damned slow," she said in his face. She leaned down and kissed him while she backed against his penis. Her pussy moved, trying to enfold his cock, slide it into her steamy depths. His eyes opened in horror. This is what Megan did before...
"What's the matter, don't you like girls?" she asked, looking down at his half-wilted cock.
"Oh God yes, I love girls. And you are one of the hottest girls I have done in a long time, it's just..." he stopped, seeing the warning look in her eyes. He needed to think up a lie, and do it fast.
"I have to take a piss," he said.
"Ok, I'll put it on hold," she said, rolling off his body. "That way," she pointed with a dramatic "queen of the nile" pose. He followed her pointing finger, which rested on her bent knee, and saw three doors. He found the bathroom behind the last door.
He did piss, then stood looking in the mirror. Did he really know the man looking back at him? Was he the man he thought he was? He reached down and held the amulet, which was supposed to protect him from evil. What evil, new evil, old evil, the pit of hell kind of evil? In his car he had crosses reputed to be blessed by saints, holy water, chants and prayers, and even a voodoo object or two. With all that protection, he should be able to have sex undisturbed. It was his mind plaguing him now, not the evil.
"Get a grip," he whispered to the face in the mirror. He washed his face and hands, then turned to find Jane standing in the doorway.
"You are one of them, aren't you?"
"Yeah," he reluctantly admitted.
"Seventeen years ago."
"So that's why you want to see Millie?"
"Yeah," he said, leaning against the sink. He stared at her naked body and felt himself hardening again. She was small, compact and muscular.
"Is that why you are here? To confront that thing?"
"It is," he admitted. "It's ruining my life."
"You aren't the first, and probably won't be the last. They all disappear, you know."
"All? A lot of men?"
"Men, women, boys and girls. They never come back. That's why I was hoping..." she turned away before she burst into tears. He started forward, but she turned back with a straight face and a brave smile.
"Well at least that still works," she giggled as she pointed. He looked down to see his cock rock hard, swaying as he took a step.
"What is it?" she asked forcefully. "What makes a man so crazy that he has to come back, but so embarrassed that he can't talk about it, and so excited that it gives him a hard-on?"
"Evil, sex, depravity, and suffering. Sadistic visions, perverted sex acts, all playing on your most basic of emotions, guilt," he said, thinking as he talked. "Do you know what it is?"
"Some people call it the Collection, others call it Masey's Apparition. Whatever you call it, it's evil. I know there was a clan of people who lived off the swamps here almost two hundred years ago. I think Masey was the old woman who ran the clan. I guess they were all killed. Supposedly thirty some people disappeared in one night. Somebody said a French pirate used to live around here long before that. He and his crew disappeared too. It was all blamed on Indians, but maybe that thing killed them."
"It could be. I got the impression that it was old, very old. Maybe since the creation of the Earth."
"The locals never use that highway at night. Some people wanted the road closed down, but too many people wanted the business it brings in. The town would die without it. Other's wanted to post warning signs, or close the highway at night, but they were laughed out of the meeting. So it stays the way it is."
"And people die," William said thoughtfully.
"Can you finish what you started?" she asked, looking down at his hard cock and licking her lips.
"I'll try. I seem to be prone to hallucinations. I hurt the last girl because of them."
"I'll take my chances. I need a good fuck. I could tie you to the bed," she said playfully.
"Like hell," he said, hugging her close, then capturing a breast in his hand. They walked back to the bedroom that way. They fell on the bed in the middle of a kiss. When William fearfully opened his eyes he saw only Jane laying before him.
"Lay on your back and bend your legs," he said, positioning her on the big bed.
"You'll see. It's a great position."
William slid inside her bent knees and touched her pussy with his cock. She whimpered in delight. By moving slightly and pushing, she inserted his cock into her eager pussy. She rode gently against his cock, pushing her ass toward him while relaxing on her back. William reached out and captured a breast, from where he laid beneath her. She smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations.
William pumped his pelvis to meet her impatient pussy. The slick sound of his cock sliding in and out was noisy in the quiet room. Her moans were rhythmic and pleasant. William looked over her compact, sexy body and suddenly felt good, very good. He had been pursuing women for the past 17 years. In each and every case he found each woman to be unique, fascinating, and beautiful in her own way. There was nothing wrong about sex, nothing evil or foreboding. It was a part of nature. It was a part that William enjoyed very much.
"Oh yes," Jane panted, growing hotter. William stopped moving. He allowed Jane to become desperate for a moment, then begin rubbing her pussy up and down over his impaling cock. He knew she was receiving and entirely new set of sensations. His long cock was now churning her hot cunt flesh like a stick in butter. The position allowed his cock to extend well up inside her pussy. He could occasionally feel her cervix strike the end of his cock. In each case Jane stiffened and hissed at the pain and stimulation it caused. She was getting hot, real hot.
William's motives were self-centered. He wanted Jane to bring herself off in such a manner, because it generated less sensation in his own penis. He knew that she would come first, then finish him with her mouth. This is what William wanted, to see that sexy mouth sucking on his juice-coated cock. It was so erotic. He knew that any woman who would suck her own juice off a cock, was a potential lesbian. And William was fascinated by lesbians. Most men were.
"Oh... oh God," Jane gasped, humping faster. Her breasts jiggled nicely. William again captured her left breast in his hand and rotated her nipple with his thumb. She hissed in pleasure, grabbed his hand and sucked his index finger into her mouth. She the released it and mashed her own breasts in her hands.
"Oh, oh, oh, ohhhhhhh!" Jane screamed, stiffening with her back arched, her pussy grinding against his cock. He continued stimulating her breast, as he carefully watched her face. It was twisted and ugly, but thankfully this was due to her intense orgasm. She sat up explosively, grabbing his hip and pulling her pussy tightly against it. He leaned forward and captured her nipple in his lips. He sucked like a starving infant. She grabbed his head and held it to her chest. Slowly she relaxed. She gave out an exhausted sigh and fell back on the bed, with her hand still on his head.
"That was wonderful," she sighed. "But you didn't come."
"Let me finish you," she easily said the words that William loved so much. He rolled over on his back and opened his legs. She rolled between them and took his hard cock into her hand. She pumped it for a moment, then dropped her lips over the end. She sucked and licked for a moment, then sank her mouth well down on his shaft.
William gasped in delight. Her lips were so hot, so soft on the shaft of his cock. Through a vast amount of experience, he had learned that a black woman had the softest lips of all and invariably rated number one on his blowjob list, but any lips could feel heavenly when you badly needed an orgasm.
"You sweet little cocksucker," he gasped, holding her head in his hands. "I love southern girls," he cried happily, tipping his head back and looking at the ceiling.
"I'm glad," a sweet southern voice said, chilling him to the bone. He fearfully dropped his eyes to Jane, but it was no longer Jane sucking his cock, it was the beautiful woman from the fog.
"Do not fear," she gasped, before licking the head of his cock. "I am congenial, sir," she before taking his cock into her mouth. She rose and sank several times, before her beautiful blue eyes looked up into his. "I have missed this," she said with a note of sadness in her voice.
"You're a ghost!" William squealed.
William was at a loss. What could he say to that?
"I have a ghost sucking my cock," he said emphatically.
"You, you, you..." he gasped in confused concern, then closed his eyes in pleasure. Her ghostly lips sank over his long shaft with just the right amount of pressure and suction. She was good, much better than Jane.
"Let me finish this, then we can talk," she said, lifting her body slightly so she could sink his entire shaft down her throat. He watched apprehensively as the entire length of his shaft disappeared into her mouth. Would she bite the damned thing off? Damned, she was good.
"You are so beautiful," he murmured. Her eyes smiled into his, but she continued his blowjob uninterrupted. He felt the fire building. The pressure intensified in his balls. He clenched his ass muscles and waited. He knew he was close. How would she handle his orgasm? After all, she was a ghost, he thought with a shiver running up his spine. Would his cum simply shoot through the back of her head? No, she was using the body of Jane. What would Jane remember?
"Oh God," he said, reaching out to hold her head in his hand. He quickly jerked his hand back. Her warm smile heartened him. He bravely reached out again and firmly planted his hand on the top of her head. The illusion was so good, that he could see his hand ruffling her hair. He reached out and touched her cheek. It was warm and soft.
"Oh fuck," he screamed. His balls clenched, then released their load into her willing mouth. She sucked frantically, drinking every little spurt and trickle, then more calmly as he slowed, then stopped. She milked his cock with her slender white hand, while sucking on the end to drain it. Slowly she released it and sat up.
"Ghost or not, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever fucked," he whispered, as if afraid of waking up Jane. He saw her flinch at his words.
"Please, sir, do not be crude."
"Pardon?" he asked, really confused.
"Do not use crude words to describe a wonderful deed. It was a very pleasant intercourse."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
"Noted," she said with a smile and a nod.
"Who are you?"
"I was Elizabeth Agnes Attenborough. I died in 1845 during an Indian attack. I can not remember the exact means of my demise, but I believe my husband killed me from behind to spare me the horrors of rape and torture. Little did he know..." she trailed off, a look of pain crossed her face.
"Damned," he said. He saw her flinch again. He held up a hand in apology. "So why are you here? Why are you still around? A woman like you should have gone straight to heaven."
"I am being held in this place by a force you can not understand. It is an ancient force, a living thing composed of many dead beings. I have heard it is composed of pure energy, but I would not know. It attracts and captures souls. You, sir, can release me. Of all the men who have tried, you are the only one who has a chance to succeed."
"Me, I'm nobody."
"You have an aura and strength which it fears, but at the same time it is enchanted by you. You seem to fascinate it, it wants to possess you."
She nodded in agreement, misunderstanding his sarcasm.
"I have to face it," he admitted.
"I know. It retains a piece of you, just as it retains all of me. Thanks to that piece of you, there is a ghost of you in the collection. Just as I am a ghost in your reality, you are a ghost in mine. I have grown to like you, even though we have never really met."
"You are making my head hurt," William said, holding his hands to his head.
"I am sorry. I must go now. I will first advise you. Go to meet the collection with strength. Have a priest bless you. Take your charms and magic, since you believe so strongly in them. But it is you who can defeat it. Not your body the person you are on the inside. I will help all I can," she added as she faded out.
"Hey, where do I go?" he asked.
"What?" Jane asked in confusion. She looked down at his deflated cock, then looked around the empty room in fear and confusion.
"Who are you talking too?"
"Elizabeth Agnes Attenborough."
"Is that a fucking joke?" she asked, blinking.
"I wish it was. I have to go," William said, standing and stepping into his clothes.
"That's it? Wham, bam, fuck you ma'am?"
"Unless you want to come along."
"Where?" she asked, then flinched when he gave her a steady stare.
"No thanks. I'll just chill out here. Call me if you live through it."
"I will," he promised.