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From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Horny Ghosts {Varkel} (Mgg multMF oral fant) [1/7]
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Date: Fri, 06 Apr 2012 06:10:07 -0400
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Horny Ghosts
by Varkel
Spring, 2012


Chapter 1: _Collapse_

"What the hell!  Is the bridge _wobbling_?"

Darryl Parks' Toyota was sailing over the two-lane High Bridge at 70 
MPH, heedless of the 45 MPH limit, when the road began to experience 
sharp side-to-side shaking.  A loud rumbling became audible even over 
the wind of his passage.  In a second the car was actually bouncing, 
both up-and-down and left-to-right.  Driving on Cruise Control, he had 
already removed foot from accelerator.  Next he slammed the brakes but 
the road felt like ice.

Near the bridge's midpoint, he glimpsed another vehicle closely 
approaching in the left lane.  The rear-view mirror showed the single 
bright light of a motorcycle behind him.  No other vehicle was visible.

The bridge seemed to be tilting to the left.  A jagged crack appeared, 
running between the lanes.  The car veered to the left, out of control.
Reflexively he slammed the horn area in the middle of the steering 
wheel.  Thus his car was also screaming when it collided head-on with 
the on-coming vehicle at a combined speed of 120 MPH.


* * *


Kaitlyn Rendiss, operating her conservative Buick at five miles above 
the legal speed, was talking to her friend, Alice, using a cellphone.  
She hardly noticed as her car rolled onto the High Bridge.  It was a 
bright summer morning, not yet hot enough for the Buick's "climate 
control" to turn on the air-conditioning.

She was saying, "No, Alice, he'd better not try to come back!  If he 
does he'll end up in jail."

Alice said, "You never have told me what he did that was so awful."

"Let me just say it involved the girls."

The remote voice took on a new interest.  "You mean ...  You don't mean
--  Hey!  What's that?  Did you feel it?"

"Feel what?"  But suddenly Kate did feel something.  The car was 
swinging side-to-side.  She screamed and dropped the cellphone.  The 
road tilted and her vehicle drifted to the left, toward an onrushing 
car.  She heard the clamor of a car horn.  Then with a violent wrench 
everything went black.


* * *


Jeffrey Miller was enjoying a joy ride on his motorcycle, especially 
with a hottie like big-tittied Merrie Fario behind him and more 
especially with a maximum hard-on occasioned by the hottie's hand 
slipped under belt, jeans and undershorts, stroking cock and fondling 
balls.  As the cycle bumped over the uneven pavement onto High Bridge, 
he leaned back purposefully.  Her other arm, tight around his chest, 
pulled their torsos together.  Her sharp, hard nipples were distinct 
against his back.  His pals could swill beer at night and sleep late in
the morning, but as for little Jeff, he'd ten times rather roar through
the morning with the 80 MPH wind in his ears and a superfox passenger 
like Merrie.

Wait!  What was wrong with the road?  The bike felt exactly like the 
wavy progress encountered when crossing over the steel mesh gratings 
found on draw bridges -- but High Bridge was an old structure, a quarter
mile long over the Meramec River, 70 feet above the water, with 
waist-high guard rails, made of nothing but dirty concrete far as he 
could tell.  He saw a car in front of him and another, oncoming, beyond
that.  Otherwise the bridge was empty.

He relaxed the throttle and began to squeeze the brake, but the machine
was bouncing and twisting.  How could he lay it down with Merrie behind
him and neither of them in leathers?  As he thought of her, she withdrew
her fondling hand and clutched him around the waist with both arms.

They lurched and he realized suddenly that the bridge was collapsing.  
He crushed the brake lever in his hand to no effect; by that time they 
were airborne.  The bottom fell out of his stomach.  Merrie screamed in
his ear.  A huge chunk of concrete was falling in front of them.  _We're
gonna smash it!_

It was his last living thought.


_Darryl Benton Parks_

Wh-where am I?  That was my first thought.  I opened my eyes and looked
around.  Below me was the water, brown from recent runoff.  Above was 
open blue sky with hardly a cloud.  On the river banks was ... wreckage:
crumbled and broken concrete.  Above that on both banks were buildings,
maybe up to three stories tall: familiar sights.  I had seen them many 
times when crossing High Bridge, though not from this low angle.  What 
happened to the bridge?

I heard water rippling and a nearby soprano voice that said distinctly,
"What happened?"

I turned and saw a good looking young woman with long strawberry blonde
hair dangling loosely down her back and ... nothing else.  Nude, she 
seemed to be hanging in the air about ten feet above the water.  I felt
a mild shock at her nakedness but of course took advantage of the 
opportunity to study her smooth curves, moderate breasts, pink nipples 
and barely discernible pubic Mohawk.

"I think the bridge fell down," I said conversationally.

"Why would it do that?  Darn it, I have to get home."  Her eyes dropped.
"Why are you nude?"

And I was.  Now the shock increased.  I turned my back slightly and 
said, looking over my shoulder, "I could ask you the same question."

"Oh, my god!" she wailed, looking down at herself.  One arm went across
her nipples, the other hand over her crotch.  But her mind still worked.
"Do you also know how it is that we seem to be hanging in midair?"

Now that she mentioned it ...  "We are, aren't we?"

A third voice called, "Hey, there!  What's happening?"

I looked up and said, "Uh-oh, some more nudists."

Also hanging in the air, about on the same level, were two other naked 
figures, a man and a woman, 50 feet further over the river.  The male 
was skinny, probably a teenage boy, and the female had the sharp conical
tits of youth.  Holding hands, they drifted closer.  I put it that way 
because they didn't walk, just floated.

"The bridge collapsed," I told them as they neared.

"Wouldn't you know it!" said the girl.  "Just when we got on it."

I had to smile.  "Do you think the universe is out to get you?"

"Whenever it can."  She smiled back.  Neither of them seemed concerned 
at their nakedness.

The boy said, "Whether you brought it on or not, Merrie, the bridge 
definitely wobbled before it fell in.  I think it was an earthquake.  
Missouri can have them, you know."

I looked up again at the distant buildings and shook my head.  "Doesn't
seem to have caused other damage."

"But it was an earthquake," said the woman behind me, drifting up beside
us.  "I was talking to Alice on my cell and she said, 'Did you feel 
that?' which is about the last thing I remember."

I said, "Where does Alice live."

She pointed back to the land.  "In Bannington."

"Look," said the boy.  "People are coming."

He was right.  Cars had stopped just above the bridge rubble on both 
banks.  People were walking to the edge.  Distantly I could hear their 
voices.

"But we're naked!" wailed the woman.

"They're pretty far away," said the girl.

"And for sure they can't get to us without a boat," said the boy.  His 
face changed.  "Wait a minute!"

I chuckled.  "Yeah.  Maybe we better ask what we're doing here, hovering
over the river.  I've got a suspicion.  By the way, I'm Darryl Parks.  
Call me Darry."

"Mrs. Kaitlyn Dimmel Rendiss," said the woman.

I saw no wedding band and grinned.  "Under these circumstances, Mrs. 
Rendiss, do you think we need such formality?  May I call you Kate?"

She shook her head, swallowed and took a breath.  "I guess we don't have
much left to hide."

The boy said, "I'm Jeff and this is Merrie."

"As in 'Merry Christmas?'"

The girl said, "It's short for Meryl."

"I'm pleased to meet all of you, even this way."

Kate said, "I am too.  What's your suspicion, Darryl?"

If what I thought was the truth, then maybe I could ...  "Let me check 
something first."

I wanted to drop down -- and I did!  Smoothly I slipped under the water.
It didn't feel cold; in fact it didn't feel any different from the air.
I wanted to find my car and immediately it was there in front of me, 
still visible under a yellowish haze, though I would have expected zero
visibility in this muddy runoff.  It was ... _merged_ with a blue Buick.
In my car a crushed face appeared above a crumpled air bag, pale, one 
eyeball dangling on a cheek, wisps of blood trailing off in the water.
I had seen that face -- with eyes intact -- in a mirror this very 
morning when I shaved.

Nearby, almost overlapping, another face was visible over its airbag, 
also bloody, eyes staring at nothing, strawberry blonde hair waving in 
the river current.  This was the remains of Mrs. Kaitlyn Dimmel Rendiss.
Then what was waiting for me above the water?

I surfaced to find only the woman still present and said, "What happened
to the kids?"

"They went under too.  Did you ... find anything?"

"I know what happened to us."

"Tell me."

I took a deep breath.  "Our cars collided head on as the bridge 
collapsed.  Kate ... I hate to tell you: we didn't survive."

Her face didn't pale.  Her expression was one of confirmation.  "So 
ghosts are real."

I had to grin.  "If that's what we are."

She floated directly before me.  "May I touch you?"

"Feel free."

Her hand came up and stroked my cheek.  I felt the pressure, the rasp of
her smooth fingers over my shaved bristles.

Her eyes widened.  "I didn't think you could feel ghosts."

"Or see and hear them," I said.  "According to my information, we should
only hear rattling chains and distant howls.  Plus a wave of coldness."

"That's from Charles Dickens."  She shook her head.  "I didn't notice 
any temperature.  Did you feel me?"

"Yes, but you're right: no temperature."

Her tongue tip appeared.  "Maybe those rules only apply between ghosts 
and the living."

I grinned.  "Full contact between ghosts themselves?  Let's experiment."
She was standing close enough to pull her easily into my arms.  I felt 
her torso, especially her soft tits, against me as well as her arms 
around my shoulders.  Nothing ghostly about this woman, so far as I 
could feel!  I stared into her glowing eyes, bent and kissed her.  She 
returned it chastely.

"Proven!" I declared, releasing her: "Full contact between ghosts."

She smiled at me dreamily but shook her head.  "What would your wife 
think?"

"No wife, but remember: 'Till death do ye part.'"

The two kids rose smoothly out of the water, causing no splash.  They 
floated beside us.  Their nude bodies were not wet, the same as mine.  
Both of them had expressions of shock.

"We're in the water!" exclaimed the boy.  He struck the girl lightly on
the shoulder.  "And here too!"

She shook her head.  "We don't look so good down there.  Let's face it,
Jeff: we're dead."

He looked around at the three of us.  "Oh, wow, I guess we are!  But ...
where's the bright light and the tunnel?"

I shook my head and responded, "As she said, let's face it.  This is a 
lot worse than a Near Death Experience."

Suddenly Kate's face changed.  "My god, my children!  They're all 
alone."



_Kaitlyn Dimmel Rendiss_

All I could think of was my children -- and an earthquake: two ideas 
that can never comfortably coexist!  Were my darlings crushed under a 
fallen roof?  Or worse, lying penned and in pain?  I had to know, even 
if it killed me again.  So I simply rushed past Darryl and the kids 
toward the opposite shore.

Behind me I heard Darryl's voice.  "Let's go with her.  She may need 
some help."

I felt a touch of gratitude but never looked back.  The steep river bank
was no problem; I simply sailed over it and picked up speed.  But I 
slowed down a bit when everything looked normal around me: usual morning
traffic on the streets, undamaged buildings, traffic lights switching as
usual.

I was aware of Darryl floating beside me.  He said, "Doesn't look like 
an earthquake happened."

Though we were still moving briskly just above the rooftops, no wind 
interfered with our hearing.  The town unrolling beneath us was like a 
scene in an I-Max theater.

But ...  I said, "Why else would the bridge fall?"

"Some kind of defect, maybe."

The boy and girl drew abreast of me on the other side.  He -- Jeff, 
wasn't he? -- said, "I think it was an earthquake.  The bridge was 
definitely wobbling before it went down."

Darryl nodded.  "No doubt you really noticed it on a motorcycle."

"Yeah.  Felt like running over a grating."

"I felt it too.  My car was bouncing around.  But nobody down there 
looks upset.  Guess the bridge must've been ready to go."

"Was it very old?"

"Read somewhere it was built in the Thirties.  Yeah, 80 years."  Darryl
grinned.  "If you call that old."

Jeff said grumpily, "Thought they built 'em to stay up forever."

The girl giggled.  "Stayed up longer than your schlong, Jeff."

"Watch it, Merrie!"

"Oh, they don't dig us."

Looking at her in disbelief, I wanted to tell her I had daughters too.
What I said was, "I see a woman walking her dog.  I'll ask her."

So I swooped down beside the woman.  She was wearing a running suit with
matching sneakers and a gold clip on her ponytail but very little 
makeup.  I said, "Excuse me.  Can you tell me if anyone felt an 
earthquake around here just now?"

She never even looked at me, just kept walking, one hand holding the dog
leash and the other pressing a cellphone to her ear.  The dog ignored me
too, which I couldn't believe.

Darryl appeared beside me, shaking his head.  "She can't hear us."

I held up my hand to shush him.  She was talking.

"Yes, Janet, the ground heaved a little bit, not enough to worry 
anybody.  It made Roscoe bark a few times."

I'm sure my eyebrows rose.  I said to Darryl, "She can too hear us!"

The woman continued, I realized, into the phone.  "Really?  Was anyone 
hurt?"

Darryl stuck his head directly into her face and yelled, "Boo!"

She kept walking and would have bumped heads if he hadn't drawn back.  
She said, "Richter 5, was it?  I definitely didn't think the earth shook
enough to bring down a bridge!  Are you sure it fell?  ... Well, the TV
has been known to jump to conclusions."

Darryl added, "She can't see us or hear us."

The dog wandered into a grassy yard and squatted in the usual way of 
dogs.  The woman said, "Uh-oh, Janet, Roscoe has got to go and so have 
I.  Thanks for letting me know about it!"

She flipped the phone closed, dropped it into her shoulder bag and took
out a scoop.  Beside me Jeff said, "Now we know an earthquake happened.
You called it, Darry.  That bridge was ready to go."

"But maybe we're the only unlucky ones."

I looked at him and realized for the first time that he was a good 
looking man, tall with brown hair and eyes, a masculine build and a 
cutely dangling "schlong," as Merrie would say.  I still had a warm 
feeling from his kiss.

He took my arm.  "Let's go find your kids, though I doubt they're in 
trouble."

We sailed higher into the air and soon arrived at my house in the 
suburbs of north Bannington, across the river from downtown.  As usual,
no one was on the street; the neighborhood was either at work or in day
care.  I had fed my kids breakfast and put them in front of the TV, 
expecting to be gone for hardly an hour.  Laura is twelve, old enough to
be responsible.

I wanted to reach the girls and expected to be stopped by the front door
or perhaps to pass through the wall, but I was drawn around the house 
and over the fence to Bode's backyard.  Both girls, barefooted, wearing
turtle tops and short-shorts, hair snubbed in ponytails, as I had left 
them, were standing on the deck at the open back door of Bode's house.

Griffin Bode stood in the doorway.  He was tall, going bald, unshaven, 
fortyish and pot-bellied, wearing a bathrobe.  His wife had left him a 
few months ago, taking their daughter.  As I approached, he said with a
forced laugh, "Well, well!  What are you doing here?"

I wanted to know that too.  They were supposed to be enjoying cartoons!
So I settled to the deck beside my girls.  Neither they nor Bode 
noticed.

I couldn't believe what I heard!  Laura said, "We're coming in."

Bode's face worked in a mixture of annoyance and anticipation.  "Both of
you?"

"Yeah.  This is my little sister, Sophie.  She wants to see your 
ding-a-ling too."

My chin sagged and I craned my head for a better look at Laura.  Was 
this really my mild-mannered, responsible twelve-year-old?

"Hello, Sophie," said Bode, not smiling.  "How old are you?"

"Ten," said my younger.

Laura added for her, "Old enough to know what she wants."

"You mean, what you _told_ her she wants.  I don't guess one more makes
any difference to the consequences.  But I'd like to hear it.  What is 
your plan if I don't let you in?"

My sweet, serious older child said with a beatific smile, "To tell 
everybody what you've been making me do."

My fists clenched and I looked around for a weapon.  Darryl and the two
teenagers stood just behind me, still nude as I.

But Bode was speaking, after heaving a sigh.  "You know, Laura, that 
would be a barefaced lie.  I never made you do _anything_!"

"Who do you think they'll believe?"

With a growl he stood back, holding the door ajar.

I was flabbergasted but nevertheless grabbed Sophie, the closest.  That
is, my arms were meant to encircle her but instead passed right through
her body, touching nothing.  A grab for Laura also failed.  The two 
girls marched straight into Bode's kitchen.

For a moment he stood in the door, looking searchingly around the 
neighborhood.  I shoved at him to no effect, passed through his body 
into the darker kitchen and turned around as he closed the door.  Darryl
and the two teenagers emerged through the wall.  I drew myself up, 
expecting the worst.

The girls went right on through the house with Bode behind them.  They 
entered a bedroom as I followed.  Again my three companions passed 
through the intervening walls.

The bed was unmade.  Clothing draped the two chairs, hung over closet 
doors and was piled on the floor: about what you'd expect from a man 
with no woman.  Last month I had noticed a maid-service van in his 
driveway.  Had he discontinued it?

Laura paused beside the bed and regarded the man as if he were her 
property.  "What are you wearing under that robe."

"Nothing."

"Show us.  Take it off."

"Do you really want to corrupt your little sister?"

"My little sister wants to play with a real thingy."

Bode heaved a deep sigh but shrugged out of his robe.  Shoulders and 
arms were thin but his belly made up for them.  Odd that he was hairy 
just about everywhere but the top of his head.  His male equipment 
looked about average, though that could change.  I hoped its flaccid 
condition indicated a lack of interest in my less than nubile daughters.

Sophie said critically, "Not as big as Dad's was."

Of course she had seen Derrek's!  Exposing himself to the girls was one
of the main reasons for our divorce.

"It's big enough," said Laura.  "Lots bigger than boys'."  She grinned 
around at her sister.  "And you know how to make it even bigger."

"Oh, yeah!"

My little sweetheart dashed to where Bode stood and dropped to her knees
before him, but he turned aside.

"Hold on!  If you insist on doing this, let's do it right.  You take 
your clothes off too."

Tank tops went over both heads, revealing flat, little-girl chests.  
Laura was a slow developer, as I had been.  But nothing else was slow 
about her!

Oh, god, I couldn't stand it!  I turned to Darryl and cried in anguish,
"He's about to rape my children.  For god's sake, Darryl, do something!"

Darryl frowned thoughtfully.  "Rape only in the legal sense."  He shook
his head.  "You've already proven we can't touch them.  But maybe ..."

A telephone was cradled among miscellaneous papers on a desk across the
room.  He darted there and tried to scoop up the instrument, but his 
hand passed through as if it were smoke.

He shrugged at me.  "I'm sorry, Kate.  We can obviously do nothing.  
Maybe ... maybe it would be better for you if we left."

I snarled, "You think I don't want to see how he hurts them?"

He grunted.  "I think they have a pretty good idea of what hurts."

Both girls had stepped out of their short-shorts and panties.  Bode had
stretched himself on the bed and lay with head propped on elbow, frankly
studying them as they turned toward him.

He said with a smirk, "So I'm to be your play-toy this morning, is that
right?"

Laura sniffed, "Like you don't love it."

Both crawled onto the bed and hovered over him, one on either side.  
Sophie bent toward his middle but he held up a hand.

"Before we get started, scoot your twats up here and let me compare 
them."

They obeyed with alacrity, spreading their knees around his head.  He 
studied first one then the other.  His hands came up under Sophie's legs
and his thumbs splayed her open.

He looked up at her.  "Are you a virgin?"

"Can't you tell?" said Laura.

"It's not always obvious.  Is she?"

"Yeah, not like me."

"Oh, I know _you're_ not!" he said wryly, adding to Sophie, "I guess you
want me to fix that."

Sophie said, "Not now."  She scrambled to his midsection, threw her legs
behind her and slurped his manhood into her mouth exactly as if it were
an oversized Tootsie Roll.  She seemed to relish it just that much.

I was despairing of my daughters' behavior.  "Oh, God," I prayed, 
"please help me with them!"

As usual, God did nothing.

Sophie raised her head with a frown.  "Tastes more like pee than Dad's."

Laura cast her eyes around to Bode's face.  "Didn't get your shower yet,
did you?"

"No."  He snickered.  "And I was pissing when you rang the bell."

Laura said to her sister, "Want me to clean it up?"

"Nevermind," said Sophie.  "I'm gonna suck it off."  Her head went down
again.

Bode grinned widely.  "Why didn't you bring her the first time?"

Darryl commented, "Lucky bastard!"

I stared at him.  "So you're another pedophile?"

"Not exactly."  He grinned.  "But sisters squabbling over your dick 
would be great fun, regardless of age."

Motion in the corner of my eye distracted me.  The teenage girl, Merrie,
had dropped to her knees in front of Jeff.  "You can watch little girls
get fucked if you want," she explained, "but I got a better idea."

She sucked up his penis, which looked like the same idea to me!

Jeff's wide eyes caught mine.  "Didn't know we could do this!"

I didn't care about them.  Clutching Darryl's arm, I pled, "Maybe _you_
can pull them away!"  My theory was that if the teenagers could perform
fellatio, maybe a different person might succeed where I failed in 
restraining my girls.

He shrugged.  "I'm sure they're both over 16."

"Not those two perverts!  I mean my sweet daughters.  Won't you give it
a try?"

Laura's chin poised above Bode's hip.  She licked her lips, watching 
Sophie's head bob up and down on the knob of his penis, now standing 
stiffly.  So much for his lack of interest!

Darryl said, "All right, if that's what you want.  But if it works, they
won't thank us."

He attempted to grab Laura by the hips.  When his hands passed right 
through her skin and disappeared into her belly, he looked up at me, 
shrugged and withdrew.  Laura's hand went down between her legs.  From 
the rear I could see a fingertip appearing and disappearing under her 
clit.

"Sorry," he said.  "We really are ghosts, you know.  Stomp your foot and
you'll see."

"Do what?"

I stomped and my foot disappeared into the floor.  My eyes grew large.
"Then what's holding us up?"

He grinned at my astonishment.  "The same thing that held us up over the
river.  I guess ghosts don't feel gravity."

"But look at them!"  I pointed behind him to the teenagers.  Now they 
were prone on the pile of clothing with the boy above the girl, hips 
moving together, in what my ex-husband called the "missionary position."

"They're lying on the floor," I declared.

"It only looks that way.  I believe we ... _hover_ wherever we think 
it's appropriate.  Watch."  He stepped to the missionaries and pushed 
down on the boy's back.  Indeed the girl sank almost out of sight into 
the clothes pile, whose edges, I could see, did not compress beneath 
her.

When Darryl removed his hand, they popped back up.  Jeff looked over his
shoulder inquiringly.

"Just checking," said Darryl.  He grinned at me.  "It seems we can only
affect other ghosts."

Laura's voice drew my attention back to the bed.  She giggled and said,
"Whoops, you're spilling it!"

Bode's head was drawn back, fists clenched, legs straight and toes 
curled.  White seminal fluid flowed from the corners of Sophie's little
mouth.  She withdrew, smacking her lips, one hand still pumping the 
penis.  I wondered where she had learned such expertise.  But of course
I knew where.  How could a father so instruct his own daughters?

Darryl noticed it too.  "Your little girls have been well brought up."

I huffed, "You don't have to be sarcastic."

He grinned.  "Actually I was admiring them."

Sophie visibly swallowed.  I felt sick.  She said to her sister with 
chin up, "Dad's tastes better."

"It's not that different," said Laura. 

Sophie cast her eyes around at Bode.  "Will he lick?"

"Me first," Laura declared, "so I can fuck."

She scooted over the man's chest and with knees widespread, plopped her
hairless vulva directly over his mouth.  His tongue appeared and began 
to work.

Sophie bent, licked a last white drop from the urethra, again smacked 
her lips, grinned and commented, "I like it, even if it don't taste as 
good.  Dibs on the next."

Her sister said over the shoulder, "Dad let you have next but now you 
got to share."

After a moment Laura crawled backward down Bode's torso, reached between
them, easily impaled herself on the still erect organ and began to slide
forward and back.

Bode said with a wet mouth, "You're a sweet little blackmailing minx, 
Laura."

Without missing a beat she responded, "Who am I blackmailing?"

He sighed.  "I guess you know I'm not really complaining."

"I didn't think so.  Now shut up and fuck."

My chest felt funny.  This was becoming unbearable!  -- And Darryl had 
disappeared.  The teenage copulators were still at it in the clothes 
pile, but they were no help.  I finally began to realize what it meant 
to be dead.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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