That Old House

"You are beautiful," I whispered softly. "So young and beautiful, it makes my heart ache."

Her appearance faded after a few more seconds, but I knew where her face had gone, as my shaft was taken into her mouth. "I love how you do that," I told her.

She took her time, teasing, getting me close twice before finishing me. That was something new. New and delicious. I felt her touch, exploring my body, then some more of her delightful kisses.

"I mean it. As much as you want tonight. Three, even four times, if you'd like."

I had no idea what I'd invited. The second blow job was a quick one, following only a few minutes after my invitation. Unbelievably, her touch had me hard again. I sensed her movement. "Ride me beautiful."

It was agonizingly sweet. Her slow, gentle movement, her soft caresses, the occasional kiss. I saw something new, I hadn't noticed before. There would be a pause, and the angle of my cock against my body would change. She was changing position.

"Enjoying yourself, wild thing?" I teased.

The motion sped up, and I moaned as the pleasurable feelings reached a new plateau. "You are simply incredible," I confessed. "That feels amazing."

My cock was pointed forward, and I knew she was hovering over me, rocking back and forth on my cock. My hips were working with her. I could swear I felt her breath on my face. Her face appeared for a moment. She was smiling, and damn if she didn't wink at me, before disappearing again.

"So...damn...good," I moaned. "I hope...you're...enjoying this."

Her lips claimed mine, almost real in their firmness. The movement changed, an odd feeling, moving around my cock. I realized she was grinding against me. The lips were gone. I had a short glimpse of her face, coming into focus for only a second, forehead crinkled in concentration, eyes squeezed shut.

"...coming..."

It was shocking. Mind blowing. I gasped my own pleasure. "Gonna..."

Abruptly, my cock was uncovered, and I shot my load into the air, far more than I had any right to for a third time. Moments after I started coming, the head was covered again, and the remainder disappeared into nothingness. The action continued, and when it stopped, my cock was clean once more.

I chuckled. "You finally speak to me, and that's what you've got to say? Coming?"

She moved up my body, touching, caressing, toying with me.

If I expected a break, I was sorely mistaken. Her touch became frenzied, all over the place, tagging and moving, surprising me. Her lips met mine, and moments later something was pressing my lips. I tested it with my tongue, and felt a firm nipple which I sucked on for the few moments it was present.

I was ready again, and accepted that there was something impossible about her touch. Instant full hardness, and I was being ridden again. It didn't seem natural, hell, it wasn't natural. My heart was beating like a hammer, my skin clammy and chilled. I felt cold, everywhere except my burning hot shaft, driving into my spectral girlfriend. "Fuck me," I groaned.

Her presence became more solid after each new time. I could feel weight on my hips for the first time, hands resting on my chest. It was still a soft, almost feathery touch, but it was there. Physical contact. Real.

My focus was narrowing, vision tunneling, my pulse beating loudly in my head. I reached down to touch her, my hands meeting no resistance. The hair on my arms stood on end, goose bumps rising.

She was merciless. The warm tunnel encasing my shaft was moving impossibly fast, pulsing around me, tingling, driving me crazy. I groaned, legs shaking, muscles tensing. I needed to come for her. I had to. Desperately.

I felt the end approaching, her movement stretching out, longer strokes, demanding. Something was probing my mouth, but what it was, I had no idea. Those dark eyes appeared above me, my narrowing vision incapable of seeing anything beyond their burning need, gazing into mine. I was paralyzed, helpless, muscles cramping. The sounds escaping my throat were indecipherable, even to me.

I cried out, thrusting madly, as my cock settled deeply inside her, tracking her movements, inescapable. My seed jettisoned powerfully, continuously, pumping incessantly, until I lost my grip with reality and consciousness.

* * *

I was cold, trembling, clutching my covers. Someone was stroking my hair. I cracked my eyelids, and saw those dark orbs staring back into mine. The last I'd seen of them, they'd been on fire, intense. Now they appeared soft, concerned.

"...sorry..."

I reached out to her, and watched in amazement as her head took shape, no longer transparent, now translucent, as solid as I'd ever seen her. Her lips were full, corners turned down in concern. Her long hair shimmered, hanging naturally. My hand met resistance as it touched her cheek, and her own cupped mine, holding it against her face.

"You're b-b-beautiful," I managed to croak, through chattering teeth.

Her lips parted, a smile painting her face. Her hand appeared before me, her slender fingers caressing my face. Her fingertips touched my eyelids, and I closed them, drifting off again.

* * *

I ached. The sheets were wet, sticking to my skin. I pushed the covers away, struggling to sit up. I lowered my legs over the side of the bed, stretching, clearing my head. I looked around, getting my bearings. I was alone.

As if reading my mind, I felt her touch, sliding down my bare back. "Hi," I said softly.

Two hands, brushing across my shoulders.

"That was... different. I think we'll call two the limit in the future." I tried to sound casual, and not reflect the fear of her I felt for the first time. Instinctively, I knew there was no malice. She understood no more than I, the risk in completely submitting to her.

The touch lingered on my skin as I stood. I stumbled to the shower, and stood under the hot water, lathering up thoroughly, until I felt clean once more. I was surprised that I didn't feel sore between my legs. Overall I felt better, just worn out. When I was done bathing, I put on my robe, and hit the kitchen.

I set the table for both of us, and made myself a couple of sandwiches. It was past 1:00 in the afternoon, and I felt listless, drained. Lying in bed, I'd spent my conscious moments trying to understand what was happening to me. I took a pad of paper and wrote notes placing them on the table in front of her seat. From right to left, they read "Don't Know", "Yes", "No", and "Maybe". I looked for something lightweight, and placed a plastic bottle-cap in front of the notes, centered between the 'Yes' and 'No'.

I sat with my sandwich and chips, took a big bite, and waited a moment to make sure my friend joined me. "You have a hard time speaking, don't you?"

The bottle-cap trembled, and moved in front of the 'Yes'. My heart leaped.

"Did you know it would be like that, last night?"

The piece of plastic shifted over a couple of inches in front of the 'No'.

I took a couple of bites, wondering how far I wanted to push it. "Does it bother you, for me to ask these questions?"

The bottle-cap moved onto the 'No', on top of the note, and bounced up and down a couple of times. Pretty emphatic.

"You want to communicate with me?"

The cap rose up and settled directly on the 'Yes'.

"Good," I said, working on my sandwich. I took a drink of my soda, washing it down. "You're getting stronger, clearer. You need what we're doing, don't you?"

The bottle-cap rose up and settled back down on the 'Yes'.

"Is there anything else I can do, to help?"

The cap shifted, then slowly moved to the end 'Don't Know'.

"Is this difficult for you? Tiring? What we're doing now?"

The cap shifted downward, moving raggedly before settling over the 'Maybe'.

That seemed like an odd response. Not difficult? Something else? I thought about it, trying to make sense. I spoke my thoughts aloud. "Not really difficult or tiring, something else? I can see you're getting stronger, more substantial. You're speaking, showing me yourself. Your touch is firmer. You don't seem to mind touching me, that's more frequent."

I wasn't paying too much attention, my thoughts rambling. I saw the cap was shifting, and after my last words it shifted in front of the 'Yes'.

"Making yourself seen, speaking, that's more difficult," I said.

The cap shifted over to the 'No', then slid to the 'Maybe' and back to the 'No'.

"No? Not more difficult? But you do it much less. There must be a reason. Half a dozen words, you seemed willing enough to show yourself while we were doing it. If not difficult, why not? It is... what... costly?"

The cap jumped over to the yes.

"Costly... draining?"

Yes. Yes. Yes.

I think I understood. "What we do, you need it to get stronger. Becoming visible, talking, things like that, it drains you."

YES. The cap came down strongly.

"I see. The touching, the small movements, they don't cost you much, do they. The other stuff does."

YES.

"So what we need to do is save your energy, while building you up. Is that right?"

The cap didn't move, but moments later, I felt her lips on mine. It was always a little surprising. The kiss lingered, firmer, warmer.

"I'm going to take that as a 'Yes'."

The lips tickled my ear, and a soft breath seemed to caress me.

"...please..."

"Shhh. Save your strength. No talking, just kiss me."

She did, and I think we had an understanding. I thought about what was happening, how easily I accepted the insanity. While I ate, I saw the papers shift. The 'Yes' moved to my right, the 'No' to my left. I was a little confused. I felt a firm tug on my right earlobe, and the bottle-cap was placed on the 'Yes'. A few seconds later, there was another tug, this time on my left ear. The cap settled over the 'No'. She wasn't very subtle.

I chuckled, and tugged my own right ear. "I get it. 'Yes' on the right, 'No' on the left."

That earned me a tug on the right ear, and another feathery kiss.

I cleaned up after myself, and headed to the bedroom to dress. I laid out my clothing and removed my robe. I had wanted to do a lot today, and I'd already blown the entire morning. I felt her touch, gentle, tentative.

My thoughts returned to how she'd drained me, worn me out the night before. I don't believe she meant to do it. For some reason, as foolish as it may seem, I felt no animosity, no fear. If anything, after seeing her that morning, I sensed remorse. It was an accident. We just had to be more careful.

I shifted the clothing over, and lay in the middle of the unmade bed. "Let's fill you up, beautiful."

The lips on mine were soft, gentle, but consistent. Her tongue was between my lips, moving slowly, brushing against mine. Then they moved down my body, and I was hardening in her mouth. She was gentle, taking her time, letting me last a few minutes before I came for her.

Her lips returned to mine, briefly.

"Enough for now?"

I felt the tug on my right ear. Yes.

"Good. We'll do it more, but spread it out, Ok?"

'Yes.'

"Alright. I have a ton to do if we're going to get this house straightened out. Time for work."

I got a quick little kiss, and some teasing touches while I got dressed. I think we understood each other.

* * *

Things had changed. No doubt about it. I was energized again, working hard on The House. Every few hours I'd take a break, and if I opened my pants, I soon was on the receiving side of another invisible blowjob. I got lots of little touches, and occasional responses to my talking, little tugs on my ears, soft caresses. No images, no speech, just the pleasure, and light touches.

My evening calls were still happening. I wasn't disclosing everything I was working on, but kept Bev and Karen updated. I was eager to see them, but a little nervous about whether my ghostly girl was going to make herself known to my guests. I didn't know how to approach discussing it.

Evenings we spent together, and while we were engaged in our trysts, she'd show herself to me on occasion, sometimes teasingly. Her breast would appear in front of my face, moments before her nipple would ease down to my lips. Her eyes, her face, commonly showed up in front of mine, just a quick glimpse to let me see her, see what she was feeling, how she was responding.

I know it was physically impossible, but I was coming for her five, six even seven times a day, often twice before sleep. Workdays, it was usually five or six times. And still, every time she touched me, I was ready for her again.

Wednesday, I needed to take a break. "I have to do some Christmas shopping. Do a little decorating. I guess I'm going to have to settle for what I've completed so far. Any ideas?"

I don't know why I asked. It wasn't like she would answer. Especially not during my welcome home blowjob. I delivered her reward, and headed into town. I didn't have a lot of money to spare, but I wanted to find something nice.

Main Street had several boutique type stores, but I was having a hard time finding anything I liked. I had found a couple of little things but I wanted something better, more meaningful. I turned onto a side street, with several antiques set out on the sidewalk.

I stepped into the cluttered shop, a variety of 'antiques' on display. In some ways, it seemed almost like a yard sale. Lots of the things seemed like junk, and yet scattered among them were obvious treasures. An older, gray-haired, largish woman was observing me.

"Anything special I can help you with?" she asked.

"Just browsing," I said, not wanting to be bothered or pushed. I looked up at her, and froze. On the wall behind her were numerous old pictures, and just over her shoulder was my house.

She caught my glance. "An old picture perhaps? They're all local, mostly photos from the 20's and 30's."

I moved closer, leaning over the counter. "The House?"

She turned and looked at it. "One of our most famous. Over 200 years old, you know. South of here, a few miles. Beautiful, wasn't it?"

"How much?"

She smiled, and pulled it off the wall, looking on the back. "It's an original, not a print. Most of the others are more reasonable."

"No, that one."

"I could let you have it for $250."

$250! For a picture? For that I could put in another window, and it got me no closer to the gifts I needed to buy. Still, how could I pass it up?

She saw my hesitation, and pulled down a different picture. "Main Street. 1907. All but two buildings are gone now, $20, $36 with the frame."

I ignored the picture, studying the others on the wall.

She tilted up the original picture. "You really like this one, don't you? Tell you what? It's Christmas, let's make it $220, and I'll wrap it."

I pulled the picture closer, studying it. I was stunned. The porch I'd built was almost a mirror image of the one in the photo. I examined the landscaping, trying to determine what the plants were, how I could replicate the layout.

She breathed deeply, almost a gasp. "You're him, aren't you?"

"Him?"

"The guy rebuilding the house. You're him."

"Guilty."

"Why now?" she asked.

"I just got possession 8 months ago. I've wanted to fix it up for 5 years." I looked up at her, and her smile had changed. More genuine, less 'salesy'.

"I understand. My husband and I got bit bad by one of those old places. It's an addiction."

"Obsession."

She nodded. "How's it going? Making good progress?"

"The exterior and first floor are almost complete. I was hoping to have it completed by spring, but it's more expensive than I ever could have imagined. I've nearly run out of money, so I'll be taking it slower in the near future. I guess I'll still be able to do some of the interior finish work, but I was really counting on getting all the windows in this year."

She had a cute laugh, which set her whole body bouncing. "Tell me about it, every penny I make seems to get poured back into the bottomless pit we live in. Thank God my husband earns a good living." She paused a moment, while I studied the picture more carefully. "Let me check my books. I think I have some things you'll want to see."

She disappeared in back. I thought it was rather trusting of her, leaving the place empty. It was a long time before I heard from her. At least 20 minutes, and I was getting antsy as my time for shopping ticked away. I was checking out the other pictures, but kept returning to my house.

"Lock the front door, Honey? And come on back."

I followed her directions, and walked through the back door. If I thought the front was cluttered, the large back room looked like a hoarder's wet dream.

She was tugging something off a shelf, and it looked like she was stuck. I helped her, moving a broken desktop out of the way, while she pulled a large ornately framed mirror free. She carried it to the corner, among a dozen more items. An eclectic collection. Then a framed picture caught my attention. The frame was cracked, one corner broken off. The glass was clouded. None of that mattered.

It was her. My girl.

"These are all supposed to have come from your house. Part of an estate sale I picked up about 20 years ago. Little of it has much valuable, mostly common stuff, and not in the greatest shape. I understand it was scavenged from the house after the fire."

"How much?"

"For the picture?"

"For all of it. How much for all of it."

She was slow to respond. "The picture up front as well?"

"Please." I gazed at the young woman in the photo. She was seated on my porch, an ivory and lace full length dress carefully spread around her ankles. Her hair was up. Even in faded sepia tones she was absolutely stunning.

"You know the story?"

I nodded. "I bought the property from the original owner's niece. She filled me in."

"Sad. Lovely girl to die so young. They had a baby." She shuffled through the stuff, and pulled out a silver frame. A picture of the family showed the wife seated, husband standing over her shoulder, a beautiful infant in her arms. A handsome family. They looked happy. I'm certain they were.

"$250," she said softly.

"And for the rest of it?"

"For all of it. You should have it. It belongs in that house. I'll almost break even. I would only ask that you invite me up to see it all sometime when you're finished."

It wasn't fair to her. I have no idea what antiques are worth, but it had to be more than that. "Let me pay you $500. I know it's not enough, but it's all I have."

She shook her head. "Save your money for the restoration. I'm sure you'll need it. I'd feel guilty if I slowed you down."

I looked up at her, stunned by her generosity. "Sunday? I'm having a few people up Sunday. The House is not nearly done yet, but I've made a lot of progress. Could you and your husband make it?"

She was slow to respond. "My daughter's family is coming up for Christmas."

"Invite them. Please. I'd love to have you come. You have no idea what this means to me."

She grinned. "I think I do. Look at my business. Everything tells me a story. If you can help turn that tragic old building into something wonderful again, it would be a miracle. I understand."

No you don't, I thought. "Can you make it?"

"I'll try. I'd love to, I just have to convince the rest of them. Any special time?"

"Anytime after 2:00. I'm serving an early dinner."

"I don't know how long I'll be able to stay, but we'll be there. Thank you."

"No, thank you. This is perfect. I can't believe how fortunate I am to have found your place."

"Surely you don't think it's a coincidence, do you?" she asked enigmatically. "Some things are meant to happen. I'm certain this is one." She closed her book. "There are a few more things around her somewhere. When I have a chance I'll see if I can hunt them down."

I paid her, thanking her profusely. I loaded up my truck, still unable to believe my luck. I was never much of a believer in fate, but that was changing. I mean, seriously? What were the odds?