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Message-ID: <33055asstr$1003867803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Desdmona22@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} The Kiss: A Ghost Story (2/2) MF Caution
Date: Tue, 23 Oct 2001 16:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The following story is a ghost story, and as such, it contains
some graphic scenes that may disturb squeamish readers. It also
contains scenes depicting sex between adults. If you're not
supposed to read this stuff, don't.

Copyright (c) 1999 by Desdmona & Poison Ivan.

**************************************************************************

The Kiss: A Ghost Story (Part 2)
By Desdmona & Poison Ivan


Caroline giggled at something he said. Had he said something
funny? She wasn't sure but it seemed funny anyway.

"Man, Caroline your pussy is hot!"

She reached for him, but lying back like this, her fingernails
barely grazed his thigh. He towered over her, upright, on his
knees, between her legs. His sweaty hands held her bent knees for
support as he hammered her with thrust after thrust.

She imagined an electrical cord attached to his hips, giving him
this unstoppable energy. Her legs were tiring, but it felt good.

He fell forward and caught himself with his arms. Sweat dripped
on her face and chest. He still didn't stop.

Oh, this is better, Caroline thought.

She wrapped her legs around his hips and hooked them behind him.
His pubic bone mashed against her clitoris. She grabbed the hair
above his ears with both hands and used it as her grip.

"Ahhhh ..." His howl signaled he was finally climaxing, and it
was all Caroline needed. She arched and cried out, and the spasms
of orgasm shook her. Spurts of warm liquid filled her and oozed
out and saturated their connection.

Caroline's body went slack; she lay beneath him like a wet rag.

She was so tired and could barely keep her eyes open. The fast
and frivolous sex and the Long Island Ice Teas had combined to
make a marvelous sedative.

He flopped over on the mattress beside her, and Caroline sidled
up next to him. The flesh of the solid arm in front of her was
adorned with a pattern of bluish-black ink.

"What is that?" She heard the slurring in her own voice. Damn it
Caroline, you drink too much.

"Wow! You are one great fuck! Huh? Oh that, that's a tattoo I got
a few years back," he said, running the back of his fingers down
across her cheek. A dreamy weight settled over her.

"Thank you." She preened and nestled up closer to his side, his
massive biceps serving as a comfortable pillow. "Is it what I
think it is?"

"I got it in Nassau, at some dive where a woman convinced me I'd
need ..." Caroline heard his voice, but she could no longer make
out his words. She closed her eyes and felt herself drifting
away.
                                
                                
                              * * *
                                

She woke up and felt the room spinning. Too much to drink again,
and she was afraid she would puke. Her stomach punished her and
she had to get up or she knew she would be sick.

She swallowed and tried to breathe deep. She couldn't get enough
oxygen, and she felt cold and clammy.

Where was the guy? Didn't she have a man in bed with her? He had
a tattoo on his arm, a skull and crossbones or something, what
happened to him?

She shook her head. "Caroline, you are such a fuck-up," she
murmured to herself.

If there had been a man there, he was gone. The house was so
quiet it rang in her ears.

She stumbled to the bathroom and forced herself to vomit. The
ugly, acid taste filled her mouth and stung her nose. She
couldn't bare to look at herself in the mirror as she rinsed her
mouth out.

But she felt a little better, and the spinning had stopped. She
didn't even feel sleepy any more. But she knew she needed to
rest. She lay back down, pulled the covers to her chin, and
closed her eyes.

"Caroline," the voice said.

Caroline jerked up straight and adrenaline shot into her
bloodstream. The voice again! "What?" Caroline answered. Her
heart hammered in her chest, and her muscles felt taut and ready.
She was amazed how alert she felt. She ran her hands down her
thighs and grabbed her knees. She looked all around, her eyes
darting into the corner of the room, over to the dresser, back to
the door. There was nothing.

"Caroline," the voice continued.

"Yes?"

"Caroline. I can love you."

A cold breeze blew against her face, and Caroline shivered. Her
nipples stood up, and she pulled her hands up between her legs.
"Who are you?" Caroline said.

"I can love you."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to love you."

Caroline was at a loss for what to say. "But ... but you're not
real."

"You can make me real, Caroline."

"Where are you?"

"Its dark here. All around me is dark. But I can see you."

Caroline breathed in deeply, and she felt herself relax. "How
long have you been here?"

"I see you. I see you with your men. All those men."

She blushed, and then she felt stupid for blushing. "I like
them," she said. "I like men."

"They don't love you, Caroline. You don't even kiss them. Kiss
me, Caroline. Make me real."

"What do you mean, make you real?"

"They don't love you like I love you, Caroline."

"Was there a man here? Tonight?"

"Kiss me, Caroline."

"Did he leave?"

"I love you, Caroline," the voice faded away.

She knew it was gone. None of its answers made much sense; it
just went on and on about loving her. What was that suppose to
mean? Caroline didn't need love, especially from a voyeuristic
apparition.

But she did need answers. Who was he? Why had he chosen her? And
why was he being so nice to her?
                                
                                
                              * * *
                                

Caroline stayed home and cooked herself dinner. She didn't have
anything alcoholic to drink. She needed to be sober. She needed
to figure out the voice.

She pattered around the house and listened intently for any
sounds. She heard the occasional creak of hardwood floors and ice
dropping from the automatic icemaker - the usual house noises and
nothing more.

She yawned. She didn't want to fall asleep, not just yet. She
poured herself a cup of coffee, and she snuggled up on the couch
with a new novel. She read a few lines, but couldn't focus on the
words. And she fell promptly to sleep.

Out of the darkness it formed, and Caroline stared at her
father's face. His mouth was moving and she tried to make out the
words he was saying but no sound came out. He reached towards her
with outstretched arms, trying to hug her. "What Dad? What are
you saying?" He moved closer and his arms pulled her in and
wrapped her up and he felt so warm, so very very warm. But then
his embrace hardened, strengthened, and she knew she would be
crushed and Caroline felt his warm flesh turn into icy bone. She
screamed and pushed away only to see a bare skull replacing her
father's face and there were no words, only laughing. A horrid,
laughing skull.

Caroline jerked awake, saw the light from the lamp, and realized
she had been dreaming. She breathed deeply a few times. She took
a swig from her stale cup of coffee and tried to shake off the
nightmare.

"Kiss me, Caroline," the voice said.

Caroline looked around. She tried to focus but couldn't make out
any form, human or otherwise.

"Love me, Caroline. Love me and make me real again."

"But I don't know how," She rubbed her eyes and wrapped her arms
around herself. She was cold.

"You just need to love me. Love me and kiss me and make me real."

"Tell me how, tell me what you mean. Please!" Caroline could hear
the desperation in her own voice.

But he was gone again.
                                
                                
                              * * *
                                

Ria was already waiting outside at a table when Caroline got to
The Cancun. It was sunny and warm and the outside tables were
almost completely filled. Ria was drinking red wine and fiddling
with the tiny white candle that was placed at the center of the
table. The waiter came immediately after Caroline sat down. "Can
I get you anything to drink?"

"A margarita." Caroline shifted toward Ria. "I need a stiff
drink."

"Why, Caroline? What's going on?"

"I'm not sure, really. It's just the damn ghost keeps talking to
me or haunting me or whatever you want to call it."

"Talking to you? Like when you're sleeping?"

"At first I thought I was dreaming. But I'm not the only one who
heard it. And last night, it was so _real_. And the weirdest
thing is, I wasn't afraid! You'd think I'd be terrified about a
ghost in the house, but he's not that scary."

"I read an article once about lucid dreaming," Ria said.

"But this isn't a dream," Caroline said, her voice rising a
little in frustration. "I'm wide awake when he talks to me."

Ria's eyes narrowed slightly. "What kinds of things does he say?"

"He tells me he loves me."

"The _ghost_ tells you he loves you?"

"Yeah. Isn't that interesting?"

"Caroline, maybe you should cut back on the drinking a little."

"He says his entire world is black except for me, and he loves
me."

"Caroline, don't you see what's happening? You're looking for
someone to love you, and you've conjured up this ghost."

"I think I might be a portal or something. I'm the only real
thing in his life. I'm his door to the real world."

"Listen to what you're saying Caroline! A portal? For God's
sake!"

She didn't need any of Ria's doubts and criticisms. Not today. "I
can't stay," Caroline said, and she drained her margarita. "I
just wanted to stop and say hi."

"Caroline ..."

"I'll see you again on Friday, OK?"

Ria's eyes darkened with concern. "Caroline, you're scaring me!
Are you OK?"

Caroline felt a little impatient. "I'm fine Ria, I just need to
go."

"Go where? Please, stay a little longer and let's talk about
this."

Caroline saw the look of concern in Ria's eyes; it nagged her a
little. "I have things to do, Ria. I'll talk to you soon."

She left the restaurant feeling very alone. Her best friend
thought she was crazy, her father was running around chasing
young girls, and her mother was living in her own little fantasy
world.

Maybe the voice was the only thing that made any sense in her
life.
                                
                                
                              * * *
                                

She stopped at the bar to have a short drink. She didn't want to
go home quite yet, and she could really use some company. Someone
that wouldn't make her think.

Five minutes later she had the man she wanted. He was solidly
built with green eyes. And best of all, he was a man of few
words. He said, "Let's get out of here." She offered her place,
and they left.

He followed her up to her bedroom, neither of them speaking. No
nervous chatter about how the house looked. They stripped
mechanically and fell to the bed. His penis was flaccid, and she
thought she would have to orchestrate the whole thing.

She reached for him, but his hand grabbed her wrist tightly and
flung it back to the bed, pinning her to the mattress.

"Wait," Caroline felt some alarm and tried to move.

"Wait for _what?_ This _is_ what _you_ wanted isn't it?" His
speech was slow and deliberate, and his spittle landed on her
face.

"No, I ..."

"_Shut up bitch!_" The palm of his hand landed squarely on her
face. Caroline was stunned. She tried moving under him and felt
his now hard prick against her belly.

"Leave her alone!" came the hissing voice.

He hesitated, and Caroline was able to squirm out from under him
just a little.

"Ow! Ow!" he yelled, and he flailed with both hands in the
darkness. "What the fuck was that!" He jumped up out of bed and
almost stumbled to the floor. His cock had shrunken down to
nearly nothing, and it looked absurd, wiggling around like a fat
worm.

Caroline rolled out of bed on the other side and cowered down on
the floor. "Stay away from me!" she screamed. "Do you hear me?
_Stay away!_"

There was an icy silence. The man just stood and panted, and
Caroline huddled on the floor, watching him with tears in her
eyes.

The voice came out of nowhere, loud and cold. "Do you want to
_die?_"

"Who the fuck said that?!" the man yelled. And he suddenly spun
clear around and was slammed face first into the wall.

"Fuck!" he yelled. "Fuck! What are you doing?"

"Do ... you ... want ... to ... _die?_" The voice was clear and
strong and chilled Caroline to her soul.

The man spun away from the wall and ran towards the door. "Stay
away from me!" he yelled.

She heard his hurried steps down the stairs and the slamming of
the front door. And then, except for her fading hiccups, there
was silence.

He had rescued her. She was safe.

"How did you do that? How did you hit him?"

"Caroline, I can't allow another to hurt you. I need you,"

"I don't know what else to say. Except thank you."

"Say you will be mine, Caroline. Tell me you will be mine."

"I ..."

"Trust me Caroline, trust me because only I can love you."

Caroline hesitated. Oh my God, she thought, that man was really
going to hurt me. What have I been doing? Am I crazy? What have I
been doing with all these men?

I'm lucky I wasn't killed.

But I'm OK, the voice saved me. I don't know how, but he saved
me. He saved me and he loves me.

"I love you Caroline, give yourself to me. Say it!"

She allowed him to coax her. This was exactly what she needed in
her life. This was what she was missing. She heard her own voice
weakly say, "Yes, yes. I will be yours."

She waited for a response, but the room was still.
                                
                                
                              * * *
                                

Caroline paced. The light of day seemed to take forever to
dissipate. She wanted it to be night. She'd waited all night last
night for him to return and he hadn't. She wanted him to be near
and to have the chance to talk with him again. When the phone
rang she was tempted to just let it ring, but after the sixth
ring, she knew it was her mother, so she gave in and answered.

"Yes, mother?"

"Who is this?" her mother said.

"It's Caroline!" and Caroline laughed.

"It didn't sound like you!" her mother said. "Are you going out
tonight?"

"No, I think I'm going to stay home tonight."

There was a long pause.

"Are you lying to me, Caroline?" her mother asked.

"No, Mom."

"Are you feeling OK?"

Caroline looked at the stairs leading to the bedroom. The door
was slightly ajar, and it was dark inside. "I'm feeling great,
Mom. I just feel like going to bed early for a change."

"Oh."

"Quit worrying, will you Mom? I'm fine. Is Dad back yet?"

"He called to say he'd be home in three days."

"Lots of business, I suppose." Caroline tried to keep the sarcasm
from her voice.

"You sound different."

"I'm fine, Mom, I promise."

"Will you call me tomorrow?"

"Sure, Mom. In fact, maybe we should get together tomorrow
morning. I'll buy you breakfast. How does that sound?"

Her mother spoke slowly. "That sounds good, Caroline. Great,
even."

"So I'll call you tomorrow."

"OK."

"And Mom?"

"Yes, Caroline."

"I love you."

"I love you too, dear. Are you sure you're alright?

"Yeah, mom I'm fine. See ya."

Caroline hung up the phone. She looked again at the door to her
bedroom. At least the telephone conversation had passed the time,
and the oranges and yellows of sunset had given way to dusk. She
took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She loosened the tie
around her robe and stood up. The satin slipped off her shoulders
and dripped down her body inch by inch until it fell to the floor
at her feet. She was naked. Warm and naked.

She took the first step up towards her room.
                                
                                
                              * * *
                                

The room was murky black and Caroline wondered if she should
light a candle. She fidgeted with the linens on her bed. She
waited.

Every nerve ending thrummed and she jumped with the first faint
sound of deep breathing.

"You're naked Caroline." His voice was deep and penetrating.

"Is that alright?" She shuddered in spite of the warmth of the
room.

"It suits you Caroline, soft and willing, open and vulnerable."

"How does this work?" Caroline said. She was trembling. Her pussy
already felt drenched.

"Just give yourself to me, Caroline and the rest will take care
of itself."

She felt stupid, but she lay back on the bed, her shoulders up on
the pillows. She couldn't see a thing. She tried to imagine that
a man was there, but it seemed ridiculous.

"Can you see me?" she asked.

"You are so beautiful, Caroline."

There was a tingling tightness in her chest. She knew he was
there somewhere. She shut her eyes and imagined a body there, a
real, physical body. With eyes closed tight, she spread her legs
and reached her arms outward. _OK, lover, come here_, she
thought.

"I love you, Caroline," came his voice, loud and clear. Caroline
nearly jumped at the closeness of him. Her eyes sprung open but
the room remained opaquely dark. She reached for him, for
something tangible to hold on to.

"Relax, Caroline."

She took a deep breath and held it for long seconds and then
slowly exhaled.

"Do that again, Caroline. Suck in the air around you." She did as
he told her to, and she suddenly felt warmth on her lips. Warmth
that turned into pressure. Heavy breath against her skin.

It was happening! Just like he said it would! She opened her legs
wider.

"Caroline!" he whispered and she felt something! A twitch, a
prodding feeling inside her belly. Could it be? Could her lover
really be coming to life?

"Caroline!" he said, and she felt him! She definitely felt him!
She felt his cock inside her, felt him sliding in and filling
her!

His cock was solidifying, the shaft pumping inside her,
developing shape and ridges and weight. And she could see him! A
smoky shadow right on top of her, a darkening presence.

"I love you, Caroline," he said, his voice now metallically
solid. He was completely inside her, and she was shockingly
stimulated. The waves began to build, a swelling from within, and
Caroline's heart raced.

"I love you Caroline. Kiss me!" he hissed.

"Oh God!" she whispered. His black lips curled away from sharp,
jagged teeth. Her body froze for an instant, her lungs froze, and
her heart froze. And then with the cresting inside her, she
teetered on the edge, and slipped over the precipice. "Oh God!"
she was lost in the vehemence of the orgasm.

"And now, Caroline, you are _mine!_" He opened his mouth on her
lips, covering them completely. She tried to twist away but she
could barely move, he was too heavy, too strong, and she felt his
cold tongue delve deep inside her throat. The ecstatic waves of
climax continued to flow through her and her body arched
involuntarily. She gulped frantically for air, his mouth clamped
around hers, sealing it shut.

She could feel the muscles in her neck tightening, her eyes
bulging. She tried to scream but no sound came out. She gurgled
in the back of her throat and choked on his tongue. Her chest
burned.

His body pressed against her and in her. His cock pierced her
like an icicle, destroying her heat. His tongue reached his penis
inside her. He was so real now. So physical. So complete. He
filler her entire body with his ice.

And the commanding kiss ended.
                                
                                
                              * * *
                                

Richard stared at the closing documents for his new country home.
The house had been a real find. It came cheap because of some
mystery surrounding the previous owner. Richard didn't care about
any mystery. The price was too good to pass up.

His eyes began to blur. It was time to quit for the night. He
turned off the light and dragged himself up to bed. His body
still ached from the rigors of moving.

He paused when he entered the bedroom. He got a whiff of a very
feminine smell. Shaking his head, he reminded himself it had been
way too long since he last got laid. It was about time he got off
his ass and met someone.

The dim moon shined through the window, barely eking out vague
shadows against the wall.

He flopped into bed and his eyes quickly shut. But sleep didn't
immediately come. He thought he heard the sound of breathing.

"Richard," said a whispering voice. He opened his eyes and
listened carefully.

"Richard," the voice repeated.

"Who is there?" he asked.

"Richard," she said, softly and seductively. "Kiss me, Richard,
kiss me!"



Copyright (c) 1999 by Desdmona & Poison Ivan.

The Kiss: A Ghost Story
By Desdmona & Poison Ivan






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