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Category: Erotica
Description: Sleeping Spirits Just Want to Have Sex--A Ghost Hunter's Erotic Adventure.... A warm August night. Ghost hunter Amy Thompson prowled dark and mysterious Stonebridge Cemetery, armed with an infrared video camera. Spirits trapped between death and the afterlife waited amongst the tombstones, their chilling presence teased and taunted the blonde beauty--daring the girl to explore her hidden fantasies. Would the infrared videotape capture a full apparition? The young woman didn't remember to 'be careful what you wish for' when she invited Robert Marshall's ghost to rise up from his grave and appear for the camera. Watching Amy and Jeff's spontaneous erotic fun and games unleashed the restless soul's carnal cravings--the ghost hunter soon became the hunted. Spirit communication comes in many strange forms. Robert's unending desire haunted Amy, trapping the girl on a sexual roller coaster ride. Dark obsession spun her around dangerous curves and propelled the girl to new heights of pleasure. Would Amy and Jeff's relationship survive the ordeal of passion and betrayal?
eBook Publisher: L&L Dreamspell/L&L Dreamspell, 2006 2006
eBookwise Release Date: September 2007

1 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [190 KB]
Words: 40661
Reading time: 116-162 min.

Pale waxing moonlight illuminated Amy's golden hair and curvy figure, creating a sensual nighttime silhouette. Rubbing her hands along the shape of her hourglass waist, she loved to feel and enjoy her own beautiful body. Tracing slow circles around her prominent hip bones, tickling herself, Amy teased and delighted her unusually heightened senses.

"Mmmm." Unashamed, Amy reached down between her legs, rewarded at once with a sudden tantalizing twitch. A strange provocative atmosphere permeated the warm summer evening air, arousing her primal hunger. Rubbing both hands over the smooth fabric of her shorts again, another unmistakable pulse of pleasure throbbed between her legs. Why here, why do this now? Transfixed, a moment of private lust, outside in a wooded cemetery. Aching for relief, ready to lie down and pull off all her clothing, the young woman lost track of all common sense and decency.

No! Amy fought to control herself. This wasn't the time and certainly not the place. Boredom. That was it. She needed a diversion. Do I dare go off to explore ... alone? An irresistible urge to do something dangerous. Taking a walk to cool down is a better idea.... The silent, desolate graveyard beckoned. This temptation she wouldn't resist.

A last cautious look around--nobody here, not even Jeff. Where did he run off to this time? The way she felt a moment ago she'd have raped the poor guy! He doesn't even know what he missed ... Leaving her belongings behind, without any more hesitation she walked a solitary pathway toward the jagged edge of the dense piney woods.

Drawn, almost summoned here, deep inside the oldest section of the cemetery. Her small, deliberate steps lead Amy back and forth between narrow rows of crackled, time battered tombstones. Dead leaves and gravel crunched underneath her new dark brown leather lace-up sandals.

"Ouch!" Amy's sudden loud exclamation echoed, bouncing from monument to monument, stabbing deep and hard back into her sensitive eardrums. She reeled from both surprise and the exquisite pain in her foot.

These shoes might be seductive, but they sure weren't meant for walking! Reaching down to rub her red tipped toes, she dislodged the offending stone and felt almost instant relief. Checking for signs of blood, her little red LED penlight was too dim, no help. That's one way to kill a sexy mood ... Now agitated, walking with a slight limp, her right foot throbbed. She'd be more careful from now on tonight.

Moving on again amongst the really old markers, shrouded under a shadowy canopy of tall fragrant pines, the inscriptions on surrounding headstones were completely worn down and illegible. Loved ones lost in time, their identities obscured. Who are all these sleeping souls? Feeling drained yet unsatisfied, Amy settled down on an old rusty iron bench. Massaging her foot, she wiggled her toes around until they felt better.

Wishing she knew what time it was, Amy didn't like to wear a watch. Her brief respite over, she guessed half an hour had passed since she ventured out on her walk. It was time to head back. Leaving the comfort of her seat, careful steps at first to test her tender toes, a few yards away she paused again, at the foot of a tiny crypt. All choked up and overwhelmed with sadness, such a tiny thing ... Clearing her throat, forcing her knees to bend and her legs to move, she continued.

I'm healthy, I'm alive ... Fascinated with the finality of death, she reached up to feel the contours of her neck--smooth, warm, pulsing with corporeal life. A fragile, fleeting condition. Blood and vitality now revoked from all these buried bodies, nothing left but empty shells lying underfoot, invisible.

Walking the same gritty pathway back, the lithe twenty four year old woman gazed around her at the incredible variety of stone monuments. Young and old, the rich and poor. All sharing peaceful, eternal slumber beneath luminous speckled granite and incandescent polished marble. Winged cherubs, holy crosses, and immense obelisks straining to reach the sky topped the elegant grave markers.

Time to get back to business. Shaking off the cemetery's hypnotic and erotic trance, important work demanded Amy's attention. Heading toward a faint red glowing light several more yards away--her video camera, mounted atop its silver metal tripod, an ambivalent voyeur. It automatically filmed in the darkness, absorbing secrets hidden deep inside the infrared spectrum of light.

Standing next to the camera, Amy felt heaviness in her chest, no doubt due to the baby's grave. She believed most people move on at their moment of death, even infants. Older, serene spirits, their life journeys fulfilled, pass into white light through heavenly gates. Asking a question aloud, already suspecting the ominous answer. "Do they all rest in peace?"

Something responded. "Oh my." Sucking in a sharp breath, she rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms. Embraced by a sudden unmistakable ghostly chill--goose bumps. Her barely-there tank top and skin-tight shorts left Amy feeling exposed, vulnerable. A blast of icy air hardened her nipples, almost like someone reached out and pinched them.

"Spirits, can you hear me? Are you with me right now?" Stimulated again, like earlier ... Her throaty voice sliced through the thick, dead silent air. Pointed questions, directed to the old, decaying tombstones. Toward an invisible dirty old man? Motionless, Amy waited for a response--would anyone answer?

Beep Beep Beep. The video camera signaled.

Darn. Out of tape. What rotten timing! Discouraged, the spirits better not choose this moment to whisper their answers! She wouldn't hear them anyway, but the audio portion of her recording might pick up EVP's. Low frequency electronic voice phenomena--words, phrases, and sounds emanating from another realm. Snapping the lens cap shut, frustrated, now Amy had to locate her gear, find another blank tape and start all over.

Are ghosts real? Amy Thompson yearned to know the truth. Passionate, almost obsessed with finding out more about those who don't move into the light--are they cursed, or do they choose to stay here, on the Earthly plane? Specters, wandering the world, flitting through time's doorway, appearing to humans for a brief moment then disappearing into another realm.

Life's greatest mystery ... death. Heady stuff for a part time salesgirl! When she wasn't selling lingerie at the Vixen Boutique, Amy devoured books on ghost hunting and paranormal hot spots. Movies and television specials about the scariest and most spirited places on the planet piqued her curiosity. Two years ago she made a bold decision. She'd take her unusual hobby beyond the armchair.

Fingering the hard black case of the special infrared camera, this great investment was her faithful and auspicious silent partner. All the latest state of the art ghost detection gear filled her large purse and tote bag. Amy delved into the darkness, venturing outside her normal comfort zone.

Quite stimulating--probing and exploring the unknown. Like that unusual sensation a few minutes ago. Reaching up to rub her tender nipples, they still stood at attention.

"Whoever you are, don't pinch me so hard next time!" Now turning back to the camera, she pushed the eject button to open the door. Time to reload the tape and continue with tonight's investigation.

Amy flipped her long curly blonde hair back over one shoulder. Bending down, she reached deep into the bottom of her large leather tote bag wondering where's that last blank videotape? Focused, concentrating on her field work, she jumped when a strong male hand grabbed, and then caressed her derriere.

"Geez!" Whirling around, she felt human flesh--Jeff's muscular arm. "What do you think you're doing?" Aiming her small red penlight into his face, Jeff's boyish grin conveyed his naughty delight. What a devil! "Where did you run off to all this time? I've been so lonely."

"Did I scare you?" Dark, sexy eyes sparkled at her in the moonlight. "Your ass looked so fine in those khaki shorts I couldn't resist." He winked.

Amy shook her head. "Why should I be scared? Someone sneaking up and grabbing me! It's after midnight, in the dark, in the middle of Stonebridge Cemetery ... you left me all alone out here. At least I think I've been alone." Do lecherous spirit companions count? She rubbed her nipples again.

Reaching into the overstuffed bag, Amy found the digital tape. Trying not to break her blood red painted nails, she peeled off the cellophane cover. Inserting it into her infrared video camera, closing the compartment, she aimed toward an ornate carved grey headstone.

Jeff stroked her back. "I'm sorry, I went to the car for a soda, and I fell asleep..." He hoped she wasn't angry. "Did you know it's already twelve thirty?" Glancing at his luminous timepiece, sending her a not so subtle hint, he stood nearby, watching.

Ignoring him, pulling her hair out of the way again, her hazel eyes peered through the small viewfinder. Power on, auto focus already set, her slender index finger reached out to push the red record button.

"It's now August fourteenth, twelve thirty in the morning, Stonebridge Cemetery." Reading the date, time of night and location out loud--something she learned from the ghost hunting guide books. Rather than writing down everything in the dark, it was handy for taking notes when she watched all the tapes at home. Each search was unique. Two hours worth of footage seemed adequate for this evening's spirit hunt.

Frowning, she noticed the camera wasn't level. "This isn't quite right." Squinting at the image, she twisted the tripod's knobs, leveling the pointed metal feet. No gravel here--she was straddling a medium sized earthen mound carpeted with soft green turf. Only a few rows away from the woods and that treacherous gravel path, the lawn here seemed full and lush--how strange!

"It's weird, isn't it? The grass on top of these graves is nice and green, not dead like over there." Amy always noticed the landscape. Drinking in nocturnal sights, she also paid close attention to unusual sounds and aromas. Her body's vast system of sensitive nerves was an invaluable tool, a powerful indicator of spirit energy. Their souls moved around and sometimes right through her--lingering and communicating. Feeling that brisk air and squeeze a few moments ago, no doubt about it--spirits were active tonight!

"I love Stonebridge, don't you?" Compelled by considerable evidence, she made repeated trips to this same location. Some visits even yielded startling images of moving orbs and mysterious mists.

"Whatever, babe." Jeff yawned, wishing he was still back in the car. Tired, he wanted to leave.

"Do you think it's true that some graveyards are spirit portals?" Amy once read that modern cemeteries often overlapped old potter's fields, or even ancient Indian burial grounds. Swirling vortexes of light caught on film might represent stairways into different dimensions. Were they standing at a doorway into heaven?

Amy's skin prickled with goose bumps again. "I feel you, I want you--come on, show yourself!" Her ultimate dream--a full-bodied apparition on tape. She came to Stonebridge over and over again, hoping ... Would this be the night? Would a figure appear?

"How about if I show you something?" Jeff's finger tapped Amy's shoulder. She jumped.

Heart pounding like a hammer, Amy took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Sometimes Jeff was such a bad boy, teasing and scaring her like that! Not usually frightened, the dark atmosphere of this remote wooded locale did seem like the perfect setting for a spooky movie, especially tonight. Amy made a face at Jeff. He grinned.

Turning back to her camera, she waited and watched in silence. Imagining shapes in every shadow, her eyes couldn't discern actual spectral energy. Third eye vision was a special gift bestowed on only a few lucky people. Amy settled for experiencing the other side through her skin and sense of touch.

"Some day I hope I can see a ghost, like those psychic mediums on television shows." She never gave up dreaming.

Trekking through cemeteries, haunted hotels, spirited restaurants, and even a few spooky lighthouses, she'd captured a lot of compelling evidence the past two years with her night shot video. What a great invention--a camera that films in total darkness! Absorbing a spectrum of light invisible to the human eye, revealing hidden secrets--ghosts? Sometimes the thin veil between realms opens up, the dead pass through, and this special video camera captures the very essence of their soul's energy.

Amy's muscles tensed, anticipating a sighting ... any moment now. Exciting stuff, but not to Jeff, almost forced to come along tonight. She knew he'd rather be at home watching television.

"I don't see anything yet." Still looking through the lens, Amy yearned to spot a mysterious mist or ghostly shape.

"This is my last tape. One more hour."

More worn out than usual, Amy yawned then took a few long breaths. Pungent aroma from all the pine trees hung in the stagnant night air. Amy smelled roses too--the heavy scent of wilting flowers arranged on nearby headstones. Not many mosquitoes tonight--not enough rain. Crickets started chirping in the distance, shattering the formidable silence.

Jeff moved forward, now standing within a few inches of Amy's back. His tall, well-toned body emitted a lot of heat and the faint aroma of Brut aftershave. She sensed him this time, knew what he had in mind, and wasn't surprised when he reached both hands around her body. When he grasped and held her perky B cup breasts she didn't pull away. Leaning back with her head tipped against his shoulder, she enjoyed his carnal touch, his endless fascination with her tits. Amy closed her eyes and moaned.

"I'm sure glad you didn't wear a bra tonight." He loved the 'natural' look. If Amy insisted on staying another hour, he might as well enjoy himself.

"You know this is going to mess up my tape, don't you? I'll listen to this later and think I've got an EVP of a spirit making these sounds ... Mmmm." Moaning even louder, Amy felt his hands reach up under her tank top, massaging her soft flesh and tickling her hard nipples. Giggling, she knew the camera was listening, recording every moment of her pleasure.

"Why just listen? Let's make something to watch later." Grasping the hem of her skimpy red shirt and pulling it off over her head before she could protest, he tossed the tiny garment aside. Jeff maneuvered her in front of the camera, making sure it had a clear view of her exposed breasts in the dim moonlight.

"What if someone sees us?" Amy shivered. It was eighty degrees outside yet a cold chill ran down her spine--typical when a spirit was nearby, but this time it was probably just nerves. They'd never done anything more than kiss during an outdoor ghost hunt. She'd had this exact fantasy earlier, but now felt shocked with the reality--her boyfriend wanted to have sex in the cemetery!

"Why can't you wait until we get home?" Amy's fantasy versus reality...

"This place is miles from nowhere. We've been here a dozen times and haven't seen another living soul. I'm bored out of my skull with these expeditions." Jeff's forceful hands cupped Amy's treasures, squeezing them again, showing them off to the camera. "I come along because I don't want you making the drive out here alone, that's all." He kissed the back of her neck and she shivered.

Amy knew. She had to give in. All evening she'd felt an incredible, erotic tension in the air. She'd almost given in to the urge for self-pleasure! Walking alone earlier, the element of danger further inflamed her passion, even more than she dared admit. And that incredible chill, was it a spirit teasing and pinching her nipples into arousal?

Now, knees weak, loins throbbing, her whole body was hot, wet, and hungry for sex, and Jeff's strong, seductive hands still held her breasts captive, fingers tickling her tits.

"I want to fuck you right now." He whispered into her ear, kissing and nibbling on her earlobe.

"Oh God..." She trembled when Jeff's stiff cock rubbed up and down against the back of her shorts. "OK ... you win. You know me pretty well--and I'm so horny. Let's do it right now, before I lose my nerve!" Panting, running her tongue over red painted lips, she longed to see his rock-hard naked body outside under the soft moonlight. Alone with her lover in the dark, playing movie director, Amy decided it was time for Jeff to display his assets to the camera.

"Let me make sure it's lined up just right." Stepping back behind the tripod, looking through the eyepiece, she pointed toward his bulge. When his jockeys came down she pushed the zoom button, making his erection grow into a massive size. "Come on baby, show me what you've got--make love to the camera!"

This was fun! Amy filmed their lovemaking at home a few times, but never outside, in a weird place like a haunted graveyard ... More turned on than she realized, her panties were soaked with evidence of her incredible desire.

Groaning with torrid pleasure, Jeff stroked himself, going the distance to put on an x-rated performance for his lover's naughty movie.

"Hey darlin' get over here already." He yanked off his t-shirt, turning around, proud to display his tanned, washboard abs. Long hours in the gym paid off, and Amy admired his well-built body.

Breathless, Amy tickled and fondled her own breasts while she watched. Maneuvering the camera to follow his red-hot action, what torment! Watching him stimulate his own body, wanting to reach out and grab him to help finish the job, her knees almost buckled. She'd have to hurry up, set this camera on automatic.

"You're turning me on baby, I'm aching--just let me get the angle lined up first, I don't want to cut off our heads, or anything else!" She chuckled at the thought. "Get down, let me see." Amy repositioned the camera backwards a few feet, showing off Jeff's finely chiseled form. Zooming in and out, focusing on the headstone first, she pulled the shot all the way back, ready to tighten down the tripod's screws. One more appreciative look through the viewfinder--from his head down to his toes--what an Adonis!

"Is this OK?" Posing for the camera while she finished the set up, he reclined on the soft grass, spreading his legs wide to show off all his well-hung assets. Chuckling, Jeff looked down, realizing where he sat.

"Good thing this isn't a fresh grave, but it is a little creepy." He felt goose bumps all over. "What did you say about feeling cold spots?" That icy chill in his groin wasn't pleasurable. He'd do his best to stay hard and ready...

Leaving the camera, pulling the penlight out of her pocket, a peculiar curiosity drew Amy over to the headstone. She illuminated the carved inscription and read the name out loud. "Robert Marshall 1888-1913. Wow, only twenty five when he died, how sad..." A sudden lump in her throat, the same age as her boyfriend, such a short life.

Shaking off the momentary gloom, she answered Jeff's question. "Oh yeah, a cold spot is when a spirit is around us, taking energy from the air." Looking back down at her boyfriend, his massive hard-on was aimed straight at her. "Wow, what a sex pistol. Don't shoot me yet!" Straddling his legs as she stepped over him, hesitating above his knees for a few extra moments, she was such a tease.

Moving faster, eager to climb on top and take a ride on his dangerous weapon, Amy stepped back in front of the camera to finish undressing. Undoing the button, then ripping the metal zipper open, she pulled down her tan shorts and kicked them out of the way. Next she slipped her red nylon panties down her slender thighs. Twirling them on her finger first before tossing them aside, she added her own bit of strip tease to their impromptu home movie.

Playing coy, batting her long dark lashes, her eyes made love to the lens. Amy's long fingers reached down past her navel, inviting the camera to watch her act of self-stimulation. Spreading her feet apart she reached down into her bush, preparing for what she'd yearned to do an hour ago. Amy wanted to make a home movie they'd never forget.

Then she froze. Passion turned to panic. Knees locked tight, she shivered. "Oh man, just now I felt something really strange." Standing still, she listened, then looked all around. A sudden case of nerves? No, that brazen performance proved her devoid of all shame. What was it? Glancing back at Jeff, he must not feel the same thing, all he felt was his own erection.

Laying there masturbating, Jeff really enjoyed Amy's sexy show. Now disappointed, he wondered why she stopped. "What's the matter?" He could see her stiff stance and even her tense buttocks muscles.

"Oh, I don't know..." Something had touched her, poked at her stomach and tickled her bare navel. An insect? Legs quivering, now unsure about going any farther, she brushed at her skin, hoping to fend off the moth or some other creature.

Looking like a nude statue, Amy now stood immobile. Jeff didn't know what do, so he waited. After what seemed like an eternity, Amy decided it was safe to continue. Relaxing her rigid muscles, turning toward Jeff--another unexpected surprise. Sudden movement--something fluttered overhead.

"Egad!" She jumped back, almost tripping over Jeff.

"What was that?" He tipped his head back to look up. A bat! Zooming past again, it flew up into the trees. "Get down here and warm me up." Jeff still held onto his now withering cock. The bat's unexpected appearance gave him the creeps and a debilitating chill.

Shaken up, Amy tried her very best to calm down, hoping the flying creature of the night wouldn't keep circling. "Fly away home, Igor..." Naked and exposed, teased by a spirit, titillated by her sexy boyfriend and now taunted by a bat. She started laughing.

"This is like a really bad dirty movie! Too funny..." Finding the humor in every situation always made her feel better.

Feeling brave enough to get back to their sexy action, she looked over at Jeff. This time Amy's amazed eyes stared right past him. Something strange and a little unnerving. The headstone seemed luminous--aglow with spirit energy? Giddy with arousal and that intoxicating adrenaline rush of fear, now a sudden crazy idea popped into Amy's head. "Hey, Robert, are you here?" Talking to ghosts sometimes caught their attention, caused them to appear. What if that funny feeling a moment ago really was a spirit--his spirit?

Settling down on the soft grass, sitting near the marble urn right next to the young man's headstone, Amy was ready to take off the last bit of covering that remained on her body--her shoes. She played coy for Jeff's benefit.

"I hurt my toe on a rock." Pouting like an injured little girl, she pointed to her foot.

Jeff sat up in a hurry, eager to help. Undoing the long laces on her sexy leather sandals, he loved touching and tasting her feet--what a turn on.

"Did you just get these at Vixen?" They looked new, felt stiff, the leather smelled wonderful. He massaged her right foot, feeling each toe. "This one?" Before she could answer he sucked on her big toe while still massaging her leg, running his hand up and down her smooth calf.

"Oh yeah..." Leaning against the headstone, savoring Jeff's fetish, a tingle danced across Amy's shoulders. The strong feeling of a presence again--Robert Marshall? She did come out to the cemetery to film ghosts, not just fool around. Did they awaken his lonely soul and was he sitting right next to her? Heart racing, Amy wished she could look through the camera--for signs confirming what she knew was happening.

Amy squirmed, her heat throbbed from Jeff's kinky stimulation and also something else. She was turned on by the idea of someone watching--especially a young, hot and horny spirit. She'd talk to him again, call out his entity.

"I can feel you here with us Robert. Want to watch us and have some fun too?" Her soft, red lips put emphasis on certain words for the spirit's benefit. Still young when he died, he should enjoy good rousing sex. Amy's body tingled again, imagining Robert watching, even touching...

Jeff was finished devouring Amy's toe and moved on to a more sensitive part of her body. Settling down next to her on the grass he ran one hand along her inner thigh up into her pussy, massaging her musky heat. Spreading her legs wider, she enjoyed strong male fingers thrusting hard and deep inside her most erogenous zone. Returning the favor Amy reached for Jeff's cock, massaging it back into rock hard readiness.

"That's the way darlin'.... yeah..." Jeff looked toward the camera, enjoying Amy's provocative touch. Excited, thinking about watching this on their big screen TV tomorrow, he moved his hands up to her breasts, pinching and fondling her nipples.

"No more playing around. Come here, kiss me!" Reaching for her neck, he pulled her down across his body so their hungry mouths could merge.

Amy stretched out on top of his taut pectoral muscles. She caressed his head, running her fingers through his coarse, sun bleached hair. Their lips met, tongues playing together in slow, deep, wet kisses. Without a doubt Jeff was the best kisser she'd ever met--and not just on her mouth. Amy wiggled her tingling toes.

A huge erection pulsed against her navel. Hot and more than ready with that throbbing gun about to explode on her skin, Amy reached down to slip it inside. Squeezing hard along with each of his strong thrusts she enjoyed sharing her lover's pleasure. Kneading and massaging his firm skin she loved to ride her raging, bucking bull. Amy gasped with an instant orgasm when Jeff's finger suddenly reached up to rub her clit.

Still quivering with delightful tingles, Amy rode him even faster--not much longer--Jeff was nearing his climax. His eyes were closed, one of his hands gripped at her tousled hair while the other reached up to massage her smooth back.

Losing her concentration for a moment, something compelled Amy to look away from Jeff--toward the bizarre luminous headstone--the headboard of their unearthly bed of passion. An extraordinary sensation shocked her with pleasure.

"Ooh baby!" A strong charge jolted her tender clitoris and shot all through her body. Another surprise climax! It wasn't Jeff this time. She'd felt that same strong electricity a few minutes ago while leaning against that headstone. An entity--his soul. Touching, caressing, and fondling Amy's most private places. A ghost, manipulating energy in the air, and deep inside her body--amazing, other worldly ecstasy...

"Robert?"

"Hey--don't you even know who you're screwing?" About to come, Amy called out another man's name breaking Jeff's concentration. He was pissed. Reaching up, both arms now around her, he flipped them both over. Now he was the one on top, and Jeff demanded her full attention. "Now you can't look at him any more..."

"Sorry." Amy wrapped her long legs around her real live lover, enjoying every delicious sensation. Flesh against flesh and electric charges pulsating in her pelvis--a real sexual adventure. Her naughty smile toward the camera almost gave away her little secret--a threesome! She'd have fun watching this ghost hunting tape tomorrow...