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This vignette was written for Handofblades as part of my themed Patreon request day for October 2019. This month's theme was "Things that go Hump in the night" and the story contains M/M sex between consenting adults. :3

Unfinished Business

When Byron had bought his new house, he half expected his life to turn into a horror movie. The house had been abandoned for years after rumours of multiple tenants and owners fleeing it and selling it at increasingly discounted rates upon discovering that the stories they had laughed at before purchasing it were true. That the house was haunted by at least one if not more incredibly active spirits, and that any attempt to ward them off or force them to leave was met by intense retaliation. Furniture thrown around, electrical goods shorting out left and right, basically making the occupants lives hell until they eventually fled and sold it on to some other sucker.

Having read the stories after looking the house up and trying to figure out why the hell it was so cheap, Byron had accepted that he might be the latest in that long line of suckers. He hadn't believed in ghosts back then, but had felt that there must be something genuinely wrong with the house; carbon monoxide leakage causing hallucinations, subsidence causing objects to fall from shelves and break, electrical atmospheric disturbances responsible for the technological failures. Something that he would no doubt have to deal with. But... it was a whole house, four bedrooms, a large back garden, a bit run down but all perfectly serviceable with a little elbow grease, all for barely a tenth of what other similar places in the neighbourhood were worth. A tenth! How could he not buy it? How could anyone not buy it at that price, regardless of the supposed hauntings.

Honestly, the corgi had been amazed at how swiftly the first spirit had made itself known to him after his arrival. The moving van had barely pulled away from the front of the house, leaving Byron alone in his new home for the first time, when his trousers fell down, his belt having somehow unbuckled itself. Byron had tried to dismiss it at first. To act like it was just a coincidence and his mind playing tricks on him after everything he'd heard. But, after just a few minutes of thinking about it, he'd returned to the same spot where he had been standing in the hallway when his trousers had first pooled around his ankles.

"What was your plan?"

He asked the empty hallway, blushing a little at the ridiculousness of trying to talk to a ghost, but doing it nonetheless.

"Are you... pantsing me? Like, is this meant to be some sort of schoolyard teasing? Or, do you want a look at my underwear? Hell, if you wanna see my ass, just ask. I've been told it's pretty cute."

The dog smirked at his own humorous comment, only to yelp as seconds later he felt something grasp at the material on either side of his boxer shorts, and drag them down to expose his lower body in all its glory. Needless to say, he'd freaked out a little after that. He grabbed his underwear and trousers, dragged them back up, and bolted to the downstairs bathroom, locking himself inside it as he shook and tried not to feel like he was going to have a heart attack out of fright. There was no denying it. He'd already swept the house with a carbon monoxide detector during his final viewing, and had installed several around the house early that morning basically first thing after moving in. Thus, if this wasn't a hallucination brought on by some sort of dangerous gas filling his new home... then maybe, just maybe, it really was an actual ghost.

As if to answer that thought as it crossed the corgi's mind, the bathroom door unlocked and swung open. There was nothing and no-one either on the inside nor outside of the door, but a few seconds after swinging open it closed itself again, and locked itself once more. Just a few moments later, Byron felt a hand on his thigh. He tensed up. He whimpered in terror, tears springing to his eyes as he faced the impossible reality that there was life after death, and such a spirit was haunting him right here, right now. But even as he wept, he felt another hand, cold and yet soft in its invisible touch, caress his cheek, and wipe his tears away.

"W-what do you want?"

The corgi whimpered, not knowing how the ghost could possibly respond, but needing to try to understand. To try to make sense of any of this even as his entire view of reality was turned upside down.

He received no vocal response, just the hand on his thigh squeezing a little tighter, and then, to the dog's shock and confusion, sliding further up his leg, towards his crotch.

"What are you... wait, I... that's my... o-ohh..."

He watched as his belt was unbuckled all over again before his very eyes. As his trousers unbuttoned and unzipped themselves, and as he felt, but did not see a hand sliding into his jeans, soon cupping his crotch through the fabric of his boxer shorts.

"I... I don't understand."

Byron moaned even as the hand began to caress and gently squeeze his balls, exciting him, stimulating him, seeking apparently to arouse him. But, even though it was plain as day what the ghost was trying to do, Byron was sincere in his lack of comprehension. Obvious as it might have been after all, the mortal canine was only just beginning to truly understand that there were spirits which lived on after death with apparent purpose, intellect and the ability to manifest in at least a semi-physical manner. Thus, he really didn't understand, quite simply because it hadn't yet occurred to him that there might not be some subtle, cryptic meaning to the spirit's touches. That it might simply mean what it meant when anyone reached out and started stroking your balls.

"I don't... I... oh. Oohh god... that's... you're..."

He stared down at his crotch in wonder as the fabric of his boxer shorts was pulled aside, and he felt a cool but wet tongue lapping at the already swelling opening of his sheath. He groaned as he watched his cock starting to swell, and felt a cold but still incredibly skilled muzzle wrap around it. He yelped and whimpered in wonder as he leaned back where he was seated upon the closed lid of the toilet, and felt his cock being sucked, an eager muzzle bobbing up and down upon his twitching length even though he could just see his erection quivering and throbbing with no visible sign of anything acting upon it.

That first day he spent in his new home, Byron learned exactly what it was the spirit which dwelled within that house wanted. What it had wanted for so long, and what no resident until today had ever allowed it to experience with the corgi's at first uncertain, but soon eager, even desperate willingness.

From that day forward though, the ghost was never again forced to react with frustration and anguish as it was denied in death what it had been so cruelly denied in life. From that day forward, the ghost was free to indulge in its unfinished business at long last, and to begin making up not just for the years in life it had spent pent up but never able to act, but the decades, perhaps even centuries it had spent enduring that same desperate torment after its passing.

*******

"Oh god! Yes... fuck, yes!"

Rarely a day passed when Byron could return home from work and make it out of the hallway unmolested, not that he was complaining in the slightest. His fingertips clawed at the old, worn wallpaper upon the hallway wall as his cock throbbed, an invisible hand wrapped around it, pumping and squeezing as he felt an equally invisible yet tangible cock pressing into his ass. Humping him hard, fast, relentless in its desire.

*******

"Mnh... aah, morning..."

He awoke each day to a weight upon his midsection, and a tightness, an impossible mix of heat and ethereal cold around his morning wood as the spirit straddled him, and rode him until his cum lashed out into the air and through its formless body, painting Byron's own stomach and chest even though he could feel the spirit's ass milking him.

*******

Huffing, grunting with exertion in the darkness of his room, Byron lay upon his bed and fucked the spirit's tight ass, feeling hands upon his cheeks, and as he opened his muzzle and extended his tongue, another's maw meeting with his, kissing him, allowing them to interact physically even though if Byron had tried to initiate the kiss with his own muzzle, it would simply have slipped right through the needy spirit's features.

"Cum with me..."

Byron begged feverishly as he felt the intangible but undeniable presence of the spirit beneath him, and in particular his ghostly lover's cock straining up against his belly.

"Oh. Oh god, I... I'm gonna... a-aahh... I love you so fucking much. Please. Cum with me!"

*******

What it would take to finally give the spirit rest, what exactly had happened to it... to him during his life to leave him so desperate and needy even beyond the grave, Byron didn't know. But with each day he spent in his new home and in his amorous ghost's company, Byron found himself oddly conflicted in his desires. There was a part of him, the part which had fallen deeply in love with this unnamed, lustful ghost, which wanted nothing more than to free the spirit from the shackles of his past, and let him move on. But at the same time, on a more physical level, the part of him that revelled in the long hours he got to spend in pleasure with the spirit each day almost hoped that they might never find the answer. That as selfish as it was, the spirit would remain with him, needy and ever craving physical intimacy, for as long as he was capable of offering it.

Perhaps that wasn't so selfish after all though, albeit Byron knowing full well that such hopes could just be wishful thinking on his part. But maybe, just maybe the spirit world took into account not just when the ghost's own unfinished business was complete... but that of the soul to which it seemed to have bonded itself so intensely, too. Because, there was no doubt in Byron's mind that he had unfinished business of his own now. That if he had passed on that day, or tomorrow, or any day unexpectedly for that matter, he too might have remained as a spirit, seeking to return home and fly into his lover's arms again for what he so deeply, gleefully craved.

For one last kiss.

One last touch.

One more time making love to his ghostly partner. Always one more time, from now until eternity until finally, whatever it took, they could find peace together.

By Jeeves

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