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I'm Being Haunted by a Lewd Ghost

Click!

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

Ding!

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

Ding!

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

Ding!

Wake up! Wake u--

Click!

“Hnnnghhnnn..."

Gloomily... begrudgingly... a hand slid back under the bed sheets after striking an alarm silent. More groans of annoyance and exhaustion left the young man beneath, while he cursed himself mentally for staying up an hour past his bed time. But could you really blame him, with what he knows is going on?

Ah... but we're getting ahead of ourselves!

Brown eyes groggily opened, with red veins of exhaustion spreading out like the webs of a spider. He gasped, groaned, yawned, even closed his eyes to go back to sleep... but he knew doing that would only risk his job. He needed to take a few buses, sooooo...

“Haaaah... rrghhnnn... ugh..."

Slowly, he emerged from beneath the blankets of his bed, revealing a young man in his mid twenties. Dark skin, wild black hair, lean appearance, and rather wide brown eyes... that were currently squinting, due to the early hours of the day.

Get up, he kept telling himself mentally, knowing the punishment that may befall him if he was late. This was a new job, and he didn't want to immediately put his worse step forward! But, damn, did he really get some awful rest yesterday.

And it was all her fault... but he could not dwell on this for long.

His name was Marcus Stone, and he had a... well, let's call her an interesting roommate. If he knew back then what he knew now, would he have still rented out this apartment? Probably... but he was incredibly desperate for a cheep place at the time. Now having lived here for two weeks max, yeah, he knew why it was that way.

But once again, we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Emerging from his bed, Marcus audibly groaned and stared ahead, facing the door to his bedroom with an abrasive expression. He knew one of her nightly 'gifts' would be awaiting him, though he hoped this not to be the case.

As the cool, gray morning light pierced the windows of his home, Marcus exited out into the main living room of his home, his eyes befalling the counter to his kitchen. And resting upon it, out of place alongside its smooth surface and haphazardly placed utensils, were...

“Haaah..."

A pair of panties.

A pair of wet panties.

Marcus' eyes locked in upon the panties, his hands shakily reaching out for them. Grabbing them by their sides, he lifted the garment up and checked it. A frilly pair of panties they were, lacy and silver in color, with the unmistakable stain of a woman's arousal having formed in the center. And that's not even getting into the odor.

The color may change, the size too, but the smell and the stain? Oh, that was always the same.

“Huh... Sheila... please stop..." Marcus muttered aloud, hoping she would hear him.

And who was this she? Who was this Sheila he spoke of? Well, 'was' is an apt descriptor for her already, because she – full name Sheila Thompson – is dead.

And she's been dead for the past five years.

You've probably never heard of Sunshine Apartments. With a name as generic as that, you wouldn't be surprised to know that, yes, it is one of many apartment buildings that dot the lower end of Willington. It sits right next to Taylor Bridge, and you can hear the metro station rumble due to its close proximity. It's not a glamorous apartment, but in a city like Willington, the more lavish apartments cost as much as a house!

But there is something unique about Sunshine Apartments.... though it may be better to call it 'morbid'. That is in Room 319, it once played host to a lonely young woman by the name of Sheila Thompson. She was a vixen, one with jet-black hair, red and white fur, and a soft disposition. Not many people knew a lot about Sheila, and not many people could remember much about her aside from her species and hair. But everyone remembers the day that Mrs. Chang – the landlady of Sunshine Apartments – went up to Room 319 when Sheila was two months behind on rent.

And found her dead. Suicide.

The thing is... Sheila was always sort of... out of the way. While her death was sad, no one knew who her family was, and even if she had a funeral thrown for her. Her neighbors at the apartment couldn't even tell you much about her in life. For instance, what she did for a living was a mystery to all who knew her. So when she died, it was sad but...

After a while, people forgot she even existed at all...

It took some time, but her room was eventually cleaned out, and after a month or so, it was rented to a young woman. That young woman stayed there for all of three weeks, before quickly moving out, claiming a series of weird phenomenon in the apartment.

She heard things. Moans. Groans. Dirty little squelching noises. And vibrating. But, okay, fine; perhaps she had some noisy neighbors. What she couldn't ignore however, was the suspicious appearance of panties that appeared on her kitchen counter.

Each.

And every.

Morning.

So she moved out, thinking some strange, creepy pervert was living in the apartment, despite Mrs. Chang's protests. But, fine, the woman moved out, and was weeks later replaced with a man, a bus driver.

Where the same thing happened.

Weird, erotic noises, and mysterious appearing panties. He didn't stay for long.

A month after him, another man moved into the apartment. And, yeah, surprise surprise; he experienced the same things. Noises. Panties. Without fail.

When he moved out, rumors began rising rather quickly that Room 319 was haunted. For three completely unrelated people to experience the same unexplainable acts, and in the room where Sheila committed suicide, what explanation could their be aside form ghosts? Time went on, and as more and more people rented and then left the room at such quick intervals, Mrs. Chang was forced to lower the room's price again.

And again.

And again.

It's what attracted Marcus to the apartment in the first place; its incredibly cheap price! As a man still going to college whilst working at a law firm, how could he not jump at the chance to rent a cheap apartment for himself? Even when Mrs. Chang warned him of the apparently haunted room, he laughed it off and rented out the room regardless.

Cuz, ya'know, ghosts don't exist! That's just... childish hooplah!

Huh... say that to him now, and you'd get a very different response.

He wanted to move out. He thought about moving out. But damn were his previous tenets lucky that they could leave so quickly. He was stuck here in Sunshine Apartments until he either won the lottery, or he got a pay raise.

How sad is it to say that winning the lottery felt more likely to happen than getting that pay raise?

For now, Marcus did what he always did upon finding one of Sheila's panties. He balled it up and tossed it aside. By the time he'd returned, those panties will have had vanished, and everything will be normal.

Until night comes.

“Where does she even put those panties at night...? Where does she even get those panties?"

…

“Hey... hey... hey! Marcus! You okay over there?"

The bland brown and gray walls of an office cubicle. Seriously, doing the work was already soul crushing; did it have to look equally as dire as well?

Micheal and Kosner; Attorneys at Law. Or M&K Law Firm. Don't you know when you're watching cable television, and you get one of those sketchy adds from some lawyers you've never heard of, willing to defend you for literally any reason at all? And they always say how they won't get a penny out of you, unless they win the court battle... ignoring all the fees for consultation and the like, because nothing in this world is free.

Fortunately for Marcus, M&K Law Firm were surprisingly affable to new lawmen such as himself, despite being rather stingy with prices and the like. It's known to give interns the paid experience of working while learning at the local law college, something Marcus was quick to latch on upon.

He just wished he could enjoy it more.

“Hey... Marcus..." Tap... “You look like you could use this."

Glancing over, his eyes befell hot coffee in a paper cup. It brought a smile to his lips, and though he was never much of a coffee man, he was quick to swipe it up into his hand. Taking a quick sip, he looked to the person responsible for this little gift, his eyes befalling--

“Morning, Connor."

Connor Hail was his immediate senior at the law firm. A wolf, his fur was jet black, his eyes were a deep brown, and he had the strong and stout appearance expected of all wolves. Kind and affable as well if not a bit stiff and stoic, Marcus had found himself being taken under Connor's wing in a way, due to the wolf's nurturing nature.

Such as this coffee right here.

“Thanks, Connor," Marcus said as he lifted his coffee to take a sip of it, “Hnnghh... I really needed this."

“You've been showing up tired as of late," the wolf remarked, “Staying up all night studying?"

“Nhngh? No, not me," Marcus said as he shook his head, “It's just the apartment I'm in... it's a bit weird. I keep hearing noises all throughout the night, and it makes it hard for me to sleep."

“You should make a noise complaint to your landlord," Connor stated, “One thing I've learned through life, is that you should never be afraid to complain to landlords about issues you have. If you let it go, it'll just keep getting worse."

“Uh... yeaaaah... though..." he shook his head, “I'm not sure if this is the kind of thing I can level a noise complaint against..."

“Hm? Why is that?"

“Weeeeelll... uhh..." he scratched the back of his head, before looking over towards Connor with an eyebrow raised, “Actually... hey, Connor, do you believe in ghosts?"

“Do I... believe in ghosts?" the wolf replied, eyebrow raised, “What... is this a joke?"

“God, I wish it was," Marcus said as he tugged at the bags under his eyes, “I know this sounds stupid, Connor but... haah... and I can't believe I'm saying this too but..." he shook his head, “So, apparently, the apartment I live in is... well... it's haunted..."

“Are you kidding me?"

“I really wish I was," Marcus stated, his tone defeated and annoyed, “I didn't believe it either at first. But every night, I hear the same noises. This... this uh..."

“This what?"

And then Marcus blushed.

It's one thing to be haunted by a ghost, right? See strange images at night, hear things, maybe even have objects moved around at one's home. But of all the ghosts Marcus was being haunted by, it had to be one so... lewd? Hearing Sheila moan and groan out in lust, to hear her pleasure herself with her vibrator, and of course, those panties! She made it impossible to talk about her, because of how utterly embarrassing it was!

If he told Connor this part of his hauntings, the wolf would probably laugh it off like a joke. Dammit...

“It's just... uh... ya'know... ghost things. It's not like she's a violent ghost or something like that, but she does make it hard to sleep," Marcus bemoaned as he laid on his hand, “Man... of all the things I've learned in school, why didn't anyone teach me how to deal with spirits?"

“Eheheheheh... this is a joke, right?" Connor asked, garnering an annoyed glare from Marcus in response, “Okay, okay! Fine. If this isn't some joke, uhhh... there's a curio shop down on the east-end. My mother frequents the place often. It's called, uhh... uhmmm... hmm... right! It's called Ryoko's Boutique. It's... it's not actually a boutique. My mother learned that the hard way, though she did come home with a cool set of tarot cards. Try heading down there."

“And if that doesn't work?"

“Then pray that the Ghostbusters still exist..."

“Yeeaaaaah..."

“HEY! ARE YOU TWO JUST SITTING OVER THERE TALKING!?"

“Uhhh... no!?"

…

Hooh... man, he couldn't believe he was doing this. This little trip of his would tack on an extra thirty minute or so to his already tiresome transit. But, whatever; he'd do almost anything if it meant getting a good night's rest.

Even come to a sketchy-ass place like this.

Now arriving at Mordredus Road! Now arriving at Mordredus Road!

Ding!

Now stopping at Mordredus Road! Now stopping at Mordredus Road!

The bus he was on – the Z Line – came to a stop near a corner. The sun was setting, the air was cool, and there was not one single soul on this bus save for the bus driver... and Marcus. He emerged from the back, still wearing his business formal clothing with his backpack on while his eyes leered along the silent streets of Willington's east-end.

Modredus Road... there's something strange about this place. Like, Willington is a business-minded city. Anywhere you go, you'd come across some office complex, or some construction zone creating new office complexes. But this place? It had more storefronts for the common mom and pop shop. A bookstore over there, a homely cafe over here, some clothes store right here... hm...

Not a half bad place but... where were all the people?

No one was on the sidewalks, and once the bus drove off, Marcus found himself alone. Perhaps it was the time of day? Everyone could be at home sleeping, or some may even be working overnight. Though... he did wonder why that cafe over there was closed... they should honestly be open 24/7.

He could have a cup right now himself...

“Aaah... okay," muttered Marcus to himself as he looked at the phone in his hand, “Ryoko's Boutique is riiiiiiighhht... here. Huh..."

Ryoko's Boutique... something about it just felt weird.

Starting from its immediate appearance. Most buildings in Willington were modern and industrial. Very few places in this grand city were made to be lavish and extravagant. It was all very business-minded, very professional.

But this building? It looked... old. The walls had this weird, almost otherworldly Gothic look to it. Elegantly carved by the hands of a talented architect, it exuded a sense of majesty only matched by a few other storefronts here on Mordredus Street. On the corners of this building, there was also a bust depicted some idol like figure. A... reptile sprouting out from a flower.

Most striking of all about this building however, would have to be its windows... because they were completely tinted. You couldn't see through it even if you tried! It left him feeling a bit... uneasy. And yet...

“Huh... man... this place is weird..." Marcus muttered to himself as he approached the front doors of this building, “I wonder if it's even open..." Click! “Oh... it is..."

The door swung open, and a chilling, almost sinister air flowed out of it. Stepping back, Marcus' eyes grew wide as he leered into the entrance of the building. There was a small little walkway that led to curtains, as if he were entering some burlesque house from the 30s. Was all this secrecy really necessary?

“Umm... h-hello?" Marcus called whilst stepping through the curtains.

On the other end, the floor was matted in velvet rugs, giving this building the allure of a affluence. Rows upon rows of shelves sat before him, each one filled with various little items and trinkets he couldn't begin to explain. Jars filled with questionable objects, talismans of alien origins, books that seemed to even... squirm? Just where the hell did Connor send him?

“Hm? If you think this is a hair saloon, you're gravely mistaken..."

“Huh? What? Oooohh..."

There, at the front of the store and behind a counter, was a woman with a book in her hand. Slender. Tall. Dark skin. Long raven hair. Cold, sharp, purple eyes. Her clothing was simple, being a mere white top and white dress, one that bore her midriff like some Egyptian priestess. The collar of it was even adorned with gold, and she had a tiara on her head with a green jewel in the center of it.

It was hard to tell how old she was, but going by eyesight alone, he'd say she was similar in age to him, if not slightly older. Her expression only seemed to enhance this feeling, with her lacking any sense of amusement with the situation. This woman was calculation and straight to the point... no nonsense.

But...

Her ears were triangular and black, and she had a slender tail that extended from her backside. She wasn't completely human, being a hybrid, a feline going by her extra appendages.

“Are you going to pick your jaw up from off the ground?" she asked, annoyance dripping in her voice.

“Uhh... huh? Oh!" Marcus straightened up, “I-I'm sorry, Miss... um..." he scratched the back of his head, “I'm looking for a... Ryoko...? I think? She owns this store, right?"

The catwoman placed aside her book, her eyes leering at Marcus closely. Who was this young man who came into her room? His messy hair, his soft features, his wide eyes... and this... smell on him. A smell she was all too accustomed with.

“Are you being haunted?" she asked, making his jaw drop.

“What!? H-how'd you know!?" he said, astonished.

“I can smell it on you..." the woman replied whilst straightening up, “I'm Ryoko. This is my boutique. Nice to meet you Mister...?"

“Stone... um... Marcus Stone. It's nice to meet you too, Miss Ryoko."

He smiled at her, hapless yet hopeful that this woman could help him with his problem. Ryoko however, was a bit incredulous, and even confused, saying,

“You don't seem too shocked that you're being haunted by a ghost."

“Well... I've been living with her for weeks now," Marcus replied with a mere shrug of his shoulders, “So I'm not too shocked by this... though..." he looked around in a circle, “It's still a bit hard to believe. Um... right! My friend told me about this place. He said you could probably help me? Though... he probably thinks I'm speaking a lot of nonsese.... or I just drink."

“Do you drink?"

“I don't drink... though I'm really beginning to wish I did," Marcus stated, “I need help dealing with the ghost that haunts my apartment. Do you have something in this place that can help with it?"

“Hnnmm..."

Ryoko closed her eyes, thinking about this situation while Marcus stood and waited. It didn't take her too long to reopen her eyes, leering at him sharply.

“This is no joke," she stated, “I can smell the essence of a ghost on you. But I need more information than you being merely haunted. What kind of ghost is this? A phantom? A spirit? A wraith?"

“Uh... I... I don't know? She's just a ghost, right?"

“Is she violent? Has she moved objects around without you knowing? Is she attacking you? Has she tried to possess you?"

“No! None of that! I... at least I don't think! She uh... she uh... she... she... she... hmmm... mmm... she umm..."

And then he began blushing. Furiously. Cocking her head, Ryoko looked at him in a confused manner, wondering why he blushed so hard. Was he embarrassed that he was being haunted by a ghost? Or did he find the situation funny in a way?

The answer was far... far stranger...

“She's... um... she's... um... the ghost I'm being haunted by is... well... I guess there's no way to say it," he sighed in defeat, “She's kind of lewd."

Now it was Ryoko's turn to blush.

Flabbergasted by his statement, the catwoman looked at him with eyes wide and mouth agape. She tried twice to speak, but both times she cut herself off and looked down. And when she did speak it was...

“Come again?"

“Haah... I'm being haunted by a lewd ghost..." Marcus reiterated.

“Yes... that's what I thought you said," Ryoko muttered whilst looking back up at him, where her face was serious, “You're joking. You must be joking!"

“I'm not, I swear!" he replied, his hands shaking defensively, “Look... I think her name is Sheila! She lived in my room years ago from what I've been told! She uh... she killed herself as well. But the thing is... um..." he shrugged his shoulders, “At night, I hear her moaning, like... like sexual moans. And I hear her playing with a vibrator, I swear! And in the mornings, I always – always – find her panties on my kitchen counter! So, please, Ryoko, you've got to help me! I can't sleep at night, and that's beginning to mess with my studies and job! And since I can't get another place, I'm stuck here! Besides..." he scratched the back of his head, “Sheila... there's got to be a way to exercise a ghost and send them to the afterlife... right?"

But Ryoko began... sinking. Down and down until the desk covered her from the nose down. There her purple eyes locked in on him, scanning his words to see if this was just some elaborate prank sprung upon her by some friend. But Marcus, with his wide eyes and hapless expression, was far too earnest, far too genuine for all of this to be a lie.

So...

“Ooooh... I cannot believe I am entertaining this..." Ryoko muttered as she began rising back up, “I would not believe you, if you didn't smell of otherworldly energies. So..."

“So... y... you'll help me?" Marcus said hopefully.

“I'm not sure if I can help you! But I will try!" Ryoko stated as she straightened up further, “Listen, Mr. Stone, you are not being haunted by a mere spirit or ghost. This... Sheila you speak of, is incredibly resilient and powerful if she's able to materialize panties for you to interact with."

“So... what do I do? Am I just boned!?"

“No... you are not... huh... 'boned'..." she rolled her eyes, “You're just in a very delicate situation with this ghost that haunts your apartment. Spirits who can materialize objects – even relatively simple ones like panties – are no mere phantoms. Although... I've never experienced a ghost who has your ghosts... ahem... tastes..."

“You mean the fact that she's kind of skanky?" he asked, to which Ryoko sank down.

“Yes... skanky..." she muttered, “Most spirits with her level of power are the dangerous kind. Capable of things like levitating objects, possession, and complete solidification."

“Solidification? Like... she can actually become real? I can see her?"

“In a way, yes," Ryoko said, “She'll still be a ghost and will still be bound to the apartment, but she'll have the ability to form... under select circumstances."

“Is that a good thing?"

“In terms of excising a ghost, that's what you'll need," Ryoko stated, “It seems as if Sheila does not realize or does not understand yet that she's dead. It's a common problem many a ghost have. Only by making her come to terms with her death will she finally be free. The same goes for you."

“So... how do I do that?"

“I'm... not so sure. For a ghost to be so... hm... so excitable, is unique as far as exorcising goes," the feline continued to explain, “You'll need to focus first on making her solid. Then maybe you can speak with her. Make her understand that her time has come, and that she needs to move on."

“Haah... wait... me? You're not going to help me with this?" Marcus asked as he reeled back, “I'm no priest; I don't know what I'm doing!"

“I apologize, Mr. Stone, but I cannot drop everything I am doing today to help exorcise your ghost," Ryoko muttered, “You'll need to handle this on your on if you wish to have a good night's rest. Less you wish to wait two weeks for my next open spot."

“Two weeks!? Hghhgh... I don't think I could..." he muttered as he palmed his head, “Okay, fine... what do I do then in the meantime? I can't just keep this up for two weeks! I barely survived the first two!"

Ryoko leered at him, then straightened up. Walking from behind her counter, she made way over to the many shelves of trinkets, guiding Marcus along with her tail. Every little item was enough to draw his eyes, like he was a child in a candy store. However, one item stood out from the rest, and it was the item Ryoko picked up.

A strange little talisman, one that could fit right in the palm of your hand. Made of wood, it was an amulet shaped like a square with a pointed end. Red in color, it had a gold band tied around its middle. But... he's seen these things before once, right? What were they called again? Right! An omamori!

But instead of giving reverence to some shinto or Buddhist kami, it instead had an Egyptian symbol upon it. Specifically, it had the Eye of Horus on its surface. What?

“Take this, and hang it above your bed," Ryoko said as she picked up the talisman and jostled it, “It's a warding agent. It should keep your wayward spirit away until we can properly exorcise her. Hopefully, you may even get a good night's rest."

“Riiiight... umm..."

Holding the trinket in hand, Marcus continued marveling at its expert craftsmanship and beauty. Even for something so small, it held this unmistakable power to it. It left Marcus a bit... uncomfortable. Just holding this little talisman felt as if he was embarking into a realm far beyond his scope. But he was already being haunted by a ghost so... what else can happen to him?

“Thank you, Ryoko. How could I ever repay you for this?"

“By actually paying me. This isn't free."

“Oh! Right..."

…

“Alright... alright... alright..."

Room 319.

It took him a little bit longer to get home than he'd like to admit, thanks in part to not really knowing the bus route when getting from Mordredus Road back to his home. But after an hour extra on riding the Z line, the A line, and the C line, he finally got back home. And after picking up some fast food on the way here and eating it, all the young man could think about was sleep. Glorious sleep.

It had been evading him for so long now, he wasn't even sure what it felt like. But within him, there was hope. So much hope. Hope that, yes, he could finally sleep! He trusted Ryoko, and prayed this little talisman would do the job. She even offered him a nail and string to hang this up in his room! Such a lovely catgirl!

Now then...

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

“Hh... good thing I do have that hammer..."

Marcus' room was small and humble. A bit messy sure, and he clearly had no qualms throwing his jeans and bed sheets around, but nothing too troublesome. And now, overlooking his bedroom was a small omamori that strangely had the Eye of Horus resting on its surface.

Look, Marcus isn't the most knowledgeable on other country's traditions and practices, but where in the world were Egyptian and Japanese customs so closely intertwined to create something like this? In fact, Ryoko herself was very Egyptian looking, but with that Asian name... huh...

Okay, that doesn't matter, at least, not right now.

No, right now all that mattered was having this charm up here, hanging above his bed. He's well fed, and – more importantly due to his many sleepless nights – he's really tired. Hopefully that's enough for him to fall asleep, and stay asleep. And who knows, with his schedule freed up tomorrow – no classes nor work – he could even perhaps sleep in?

Maybe?

Hopefully?

“Please... just eight hours... that's all I ask for," Marcus muttered to himself as he turned the lights off in his bedroom.

As the cool night lights of Willington beamed through his window, he slowly and softly closed his eyes. Around him he could hear the footsteps of other in this apartment complex, the churning of his air conditioner, distant cars and horns, the rumbling of the Red Line as it hummed nearby.

Everything was calm.

Everything was peaceful.

Everything was nice.

Everything was...

“Zzzzzz..."

How did... he get here? How did he get... in this riverside house? It had such lovely green fields and... majestic blue mountains and... a shimmering lake. The wind here was cool, brushing along him and sending a wave through the fields around him. And he, Marcus was wearing a white shirt and pants... nothing too special.

Where was he?

“Mar-Cus..."

He heard a voice. It was distorted and strange. Shaky. If static could be a voice, that's what he was hearing.

“Mar-Cus..."

Looking down at his hands, he felt sweat form on his palms. The voice was coming from behind... so he turned around.

“Mar-Cus..."

The lake. The voice was coming from the lake. Leering at it, he slowly began approaching it, his eyes gazing across its smooth and serene surface. Standing there, he saw nothing... but the voice continued calling out to him.

“Maarrrrrrrrrr... Cuuuuuuussss..."

His heart began racing, picking up in pace as he stared upon the head of the lake. It began rippling, moving less like water and more like plastic in the way it stretched and pulled around the figure beneath it. Yes, a figure... a woman. She began rising, higher and higher, breaking through the water like a bursting bubble as she revealed herself to him.

Robes. Flowing white robes. They spilled on endlessly, and were completely dry despite having been under water. Sticking close to her body, they were tied by a sash around her midsection, and split down the middle to flaunt bountiful levels of cleavage.

Bountiful... she was truly bountiful.

She loomed over him, this woman did. A large, voluptuous beauty who towered over his comparatively meek form. Look, Marcus is far from short, but this woman made him feel downright puny!

But her towering height was not the only reason why she felt so strangely ethereal. She was also so... pale. This woman was a beastkin, one who was covered from head to toe in pale-white fur. Her figure was voluptuous and thick, with a huge chest, wide hips and waist, and such plump thighs. And Marcus could only see this because of how close her robes clung to her body. They were less like clothing and more like a second layer of skin.

But..

He stared up towards this woman, trying to see her face to face. And in return, all he saw was hair. Long, splendorous, black hair. It spilled form her head like rivers, and flowed all the way towards her buttocks. Though straight, it was so messy around her face, allowing nothing but her pointed snout to peak through her hair. She was a vixen.

And a cold one at that.

The air around her was chilled, but not so much that it was uncomfortable. It was just... a little strange is all, especially since the air around them was once warmer than this.

Slowly, this mysterious woman raised her hand, causing the sleeve of her robe to roll back and reveal her hands. Soft fingers with sharp claws. They extended towards him... but he pulled back.

Something was wrong here.

“Mar-Cus..."

He swallowed his spit.

He knew her name.

“Sheila...?"

He couldn't see her expression. But he heard her voice

“Wel-Come. Home. Wel-Come Home. Wel-Come home."

It rumbled in his head; this echo mixing with her strange reverberation. It all flowed into his ears, making him grit his teeth and wince as he began sinking down. Deeper. Deeper. Deeepeeerrr.

Further. More. Further.

He fell back. And you know what happens when you fall in a dream, right?

You wake up!

“Hagnh!?"

A cold sweat traveled down Marcus' brow as he stared up to the dark ceiling of his bedroom. Panting, he felt as if he had just gotten done running a marathon! Why is that? He felt a bit... afraid? His heart was racing but... hah... it was just a dream. Just some stupid, silly dream. Just this dumb, stupid, silly dream.

The talisman was still above him.

His cock was hard.

Wait... wait... wait...

WHAT!?

“Slurrp! Slurrrp! Slrrp! Slurrp! Slrrrp!"

“Hnnmngh...?"

He felt something around his manhood. That something was pleasure. The most intense, incredible, erotic pleasure he's ever felt. Far better than some toilet tissue and a hand! It swirled around his member, covering it in a warmth and moistness he's never experienced before. And this... tongue! It swirled around his dick, lapping at it like it was flavorful ice cream!

Marcus gasped, but that gasp shifted into a groan as he fell back into his bed. Mouth wide, a cold plume of air flowed from his maw... and it was visible. He could see his breaths like a cold morning, and that made him shiver.

Despite it being dark in his room, the lights from his window were juuust bright enough to illuminate the obvious hump that had formed beneath his blankets. And as the pleasure continued building around his cock, his instinctive need for knowledge drove him to grab his bed sheets. He pulled them aside.

“GAHG!?"

There was a vixen between his legs. A big, voluptuous vixen. Her fur was pale-white, and her black hair was so long that it covered her face. But he didn't need to see her face to know who it was. It's...

“SHEILA!?" Marcus cried, only to-- “OOOH!?"

Pleasure! Overwhelming pleasure!

She was sucking him off! Sheila was sucking him off! No, she wasn't just sucking him off, she was sucking him off! Her mouth was tight, and her blowjob was like a vacuum in the way it pulled his length deeper and deeper into her drooling maw. And her tongue – that tongue! - it swirled and swiveled and slapped at his fat and long dick as if tasting upon a meaty pole of pleasure!

Mouth opening wide, Marcus gave another great moan of ecstasy. His cry went silent against the night, and didn't bother the vixen in the least bit. Though her face was tipped up to meet his gaze, her mouth remained firm on his length, and he couldn't see her eyes.

But he could feel them. He could feel her eyes boring down into his skull.

They trapped him. Froze him. He locked in.

“SLRRP! SLRRP! SLRRRK! SKRRRUURRP!"

Her lewd expression drew on his cock. Lips pursed, dragging upon every inch of his thick length from the shaft up to the tip and back again. Her tongue slobbered and licked upon his dick as well, and slowly swirled around it like a snake. She had him utterly trapped, completely stuck in her grasp. And if he even thought about closing his legs in, nuh-uh, her hands kept him open by staying on his thighs.

Raising up from his bed, Marcus propped himself up on his hands as he watched Sheila continue sucking his cock. Though his heart was racing and his mind struggled to realize what was going on... his body continued melting under the pleasure. Nonsensical moans left his lips as he watched the ghost suck his cock, and his fingers bawled in to grip the blankets beneath him, but this served to relieve only a little tension that he felt.

Gazing upon her with his unflinching eyes, Marcus watched as Sheila rose up to the absolute tip of his dick. There she sat, keeping him trapped in the curtain that is her eyes. He swore he felt them beam at him.

Then she slammed down.

“Gulp!"

“Gahha-haaa!?"

With flawless ease, the phantom swallowed Marcus' cock whole, deepthroating him. There she held his cock, while he curled in softly. Her body was cold, but her mouth was blistering hot, and throat was relentlessly tight! It gripped at his dick, constricted it, held it hostage! And he could feel every moment of her esophagus as it undulated and moved, grooving around his length before he--

“Aahahn!?"

His eyes swelled, and through his cock roared a bullet of seed. He couldn't see it due to her closed mouth, but he could feel it. His thick and copious spunk filled out every inch of her maw. Her teeth, her tongue, her gums; all of it was soaking with seed. And as the blissful high of his climax began fading away, the realization of what they've done befell him.

Sheila pulled up slowly, her mouth opened to flaunt her cum-soaked tongue. Seed dribbled off of the muscle and down on his lap, while Marcus watched, stunned and incapable of speaking. The ghost... she didn't utter a word. Instead she closed her mouth and...

“Gllp..."

Lowering... lowering... lowering... Sheila eventually moved down so low, the covers over her head collapsed. And then it flattened down... completely, and Marcus could no longer feel her presence. Shaking in place, he worked up enough courage to grab his blankets and toss them aside...

Fwwoo...

Where he saw nothing. Sheila had vanished, leaving the only signs of her presence being his spit-stained cock, and the few bits of seed which she allowed to dribble upon him. But other than that?

Nothing.

It's safe to say that Marcus did not get much sleep that night.

…

“Hnnnmmm... mmmm... I see... interesting..."

Shfhfhfhfhfhf...

“Hm? Someone came in? Haaah... if you think this is a hair saloon, you're gravely mistak--"

CLACK!

“Huh...?"

Ryoko tensed up, her purple eyes first staring down upon the counter in front of her. There was a hand, a hand that – as she looked up – she realized belonged to a young man. A young man she found to be familiar. Hadn't she seen him just yesterday? Wasn't his name--

“Marcus?"

“YOU FUCKING LIED!!!" he shouted back.

His expression was loud and abrasive. Eyes wide, teeth clinched, he looked as if he hadn't gotten any sleep at all! Even his clothing look disheveled! The young man in the business formal from yesterday was nowhere to be seen. Instead he was wearing more streetwise clothing that appeared wrinkly and messy. It was as if he had just thrown this on without hesitation and... sniff sniff... going by the smell, yeah, that may be what happened.

“Uh... uh... c-come again?" said the catwoman as she slowly arose from her desk.

“I said you fucking lied!" Marcus snapped, his tone not as loud but no less venomous, “This fucking talisman or charm or whatever didn't do a damn thing! In fact, it made shit worse!"

“I... I uh... I..."

Looking down to her counter, Ryoko watched as Marcus pulled his hand away, revealing the talisman he brought for her yesterday. Picking it up, she eyed the charm up and down, before looking at him in an incredulous manner.

“Impossible," she said, “You were supposed to hang this up in your room! Didn't you do what I told you?"

“Don't give me that shit!" Marcus snapped back, his voice surprisingly loud for such a sweet young man, “It's not like this fucking talisman needs a guide to it! You just said hang it up above a bed! Well guess what I did! Hung it up above my bed! And it didn't do anything!"

“Tch! So what...?" Ryoko said whilst crossing her arms in an indignant manner, “Your ghost moaned in your ear? Aren't you a man, shouldn't you like this kind of stuff?"

Slam!

“No... no she didn't..." Marcus said whilst leaning in close to the abrasive feline, “She did something much, much worse..."

“And what's that?"

“She... she... she... haaah..."

Closing his eyes, he looked down and shivered. Though he had thought about it multiple times since it happened, Marcus still couldn't believe what happened. Sheila sucked his cock. A ghost sucked his cock. Of all the things he'd ever think to experience in life, this was obviously not one of them. And yet...

And yet...

“She sucked my cock..." he whispered lowly.

Ryoko's ears twitched, and her eyes grew wide.

“Oh... oh my..."

And she blushed furiously.

The two then sat there, silent as they struggled to come to the realization of what occurred. Sheila wasn't some predator who they could just call the cops on; she was a ghost... a specter. And for Ryoko, well, she wasn't sure what to do about him.

“By Anubis... this is... hah..."

“Ryoko, please, you are the only person who can help me with this. You have to exorcise Sheila," Marcus said, his voice dry yet desperate.

“I'm... not sure if I can," the cat answered, “Sheila is... haah... listen. Ghost form when they feel like they have unfinished business in the world. And they continue lingering about because many of them don't realize they are dead. But Sheila is one of the rare few ghosts who seems to know she's dead. She can materialize panties and even solidify herself, and..." she looked Marcus up and down, “Attack people so..."

“So what... I should really start looking for a new apartment?" Marcus asked, to which Ryoko shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe..." she replied, “You should just be thankful that Sheila isn't a more violent ghost. Though..." she shook her head, “This is... an interesting poltergeist. Her motive appears to be one of shear lust. Masturbating... leaving panties... and then full on fellatio... I've never heard of a ghost doing something like this."

“Haaah... no! I refuse to believe this!" Marcus said as he shook his head, “I'm not just going to give up like this! I seriously cannot afford to give up like this! I just gotta... hnngh... I just have to... damn..." he looked back at Ryoko, “You said yesterday that if I can get her to solidify, I can possibly make her understand she's dead, right? She's already solidified around me before... is there a way I can force her to appear?"

“You want to... force her to appear?" Ryoko asked, confused.

“Huh... yeah, I guess! How else am I going to talk to her? I can't keep this going, Ryoko! So... is there a way to make her appear?"

“Well... yes but..." she cocked her head, “Are you sure you want to try this?"

“At this rate, I don't have much of a choice! I'm running off of so much coffee right now, it's insane!"

She could hear the desperation in his voice. He really wanted to sleep, and be free of this ghostly visitor. If only he wasn't both trying to work and go to college classes at the same time. Maybe he'd have the money needed to leave this place behind... but as things were now, nope!

Ryoko's heart went out to him, it really did.

“I have something," she said as she descended behind her desk, “Give me a moment to fetch it..."

He watched as she ruminated out of view, his heart racing with every second. When Ryoko rose back up, she--

Tack...

Placed upon her counter another charm; much like the one before. It was an omamori that was made of wood, red in color, and had a gold band tied around its middle. However, on its surface was not the Eye of Horus or any Egyptian symbol, no. This was more unique.

On its surface there laid a symbol. It was in the shape of the Egyptian ankh – the symbol for life – but it was fused with the Japanese kanji for heaven. And yet, it retained a sense of balance, for the fusion of symbols weren't jarring in the least bit, and the more you looked at it, the more natural it became.

“Wow..." Marcus muttered as he picked up the charm.

“This acts like a gateway for lingering spirits," Ryoko explained, “Hang this above your door, and your ghost may enter inside."

“'May'? She might not?"

“Yes... she might not... on a ghost's end, this charm will only act as simple coercion. However, if she's already strong enough to solidify herself, she may be more inclined to come and visit you. This'll act less like a doorway, and more like a call."

“Hnnhhmn..."

Holding the talisman in hand, he checked it pensively one way and then the other. Like the omamori before, it seemed to exude this strange presence that he couldn't really explain; like it was beating with a spirit all of its own. Leering at the amulet, his eyes then looked up towards Ryoko, where he stared at her for a few moments too long.

Just who is this Egyptian-Japanese cat who runs this strange shop of curios? She was sharply looking at him.

“Is something wrong?" she asked.

“No I just... haaah... hopefully this will work."

“You still have to pay for that."

“Since your last charm worked 'wonders'... I think not..."

…

Room 319. Who would think that one simple apartment room would be so damn draining on his life? And not because of shit living arrangements or terrible neighbors, but because of fucking ghosts. Later on in life when he becomes a rich billionaire, he was going to omit this part of his life from his autobiography.

Maybe...

“Okay... okay... maybe I can't handle this..." Marcus muttered to himself as he sat down on his couch.

The living room of his apartment was rather bland; just his couch, TV, the stand of which his TV rested upon, and his table. Having just moved here only a two weeks ago, he hadn't had much time to personalize his apartment. Made only worse by the constant hauntings he's suffered. All he wanted to do was sleep... is that too much to ask?

But now he wasn't even going to sleep, he was going to interact with Sheila directly. Just thinking about that made him shiver with fear. Last night, she sprung upon him. This time however, he was purposefully setting things up so that he could speak to her; face to face.

Speak to a ghost... face to face... what is going on?

But he'd come this far, and there was no turning back now! Holding this charm in hand that is a combination of an ankh and the Japanese kanji for heaven, Marcus did exactly as he was told and hung it above his door. After that, all he'd need to do is wait.

So he sat on his couch and began doing just that; waiting. He could watch some TV, but his heart was racing too fast for that. Perhaps he'd order something to eat? He'd do that sooner or later, since all he'd had for breakfast today was an egg sandwich and, like, four cups of coffee. But what if Sheila appeared while he was away? Would she stay and wait for him? So maybe he should order food for delivery?

Honestly... hnnn... he was far too tired to move. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep... sleep...

His eyes... were so... heavy... his body... was so... sluggish... he just... wanted to... sleep...

Sleep...

Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeee-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-eeeeep...

“Zzzzzzzz..."

He couldn't have been sleeping for longer than ten minutes. That's what it felt like, anyway. He just laid back into his couch and closed his eyes... only to reopen them. And when they did, everything was so...

Dark.

It was night already.

Leaning up, Marcus leered around his apartment, shocked that he could have slept so long... and that everything was so dark. The only light came from through his windows... and that was slightly obscured by the woman standing there.

Stiffening up, Marcus gasped, but his voice got choked in his throat. Instead he laid there upon his couch, gazing at the figure of the large, voluptuous vixen who stared out of his window towards the glowing city lights outside. She was wearing the same white robes, and her hair was still incredibly long and opaquely black.

It was Sheila.

Marcus opened his mouth to speak but... the vixen didn't seem to notice he was there. She just kept staring out the window, and she did so whilst standing completely still. She didn't move, didn't sway, no, she was like a statue in how rigid she was. Not even her tail moved.

And then... Marcus blinked.

“Huh?"

When his eyes reopened, Sheila was gone.

Bewildered, the young man stared around his apartment in search of the apparition, only to see nothing.

So he blinked again.

“AH!?"

Sheila was standing in front of him.

Jolting back upon his couch, he stared up towards the vixen as she stood tall and erect before him. Her plump lips were slightly open, her long black hair completely covered her eyes, and her head was tipped over like a hook. She was looking at him, but he could not see her face.

“Sheila?"

Her head twisted the other way.

“Wel-Come ho-me!"

Her voice was still distorted and scratched, like static on a CRT television. Hearing it in real time and not in a dream, sent a shiver through Marcus' spine and made his heart race as well. He couldn't believe what he was seeing or hearing; this ghost was right in front of him.

Standing tall.

Standing still.

Not even breathing.

“Mar-Cus..."

And she knew his name.

“Sheila... please... you have to realize that--"

What the? She was moving forward, cutting him off. Leaning back in his couch, Marcus braced himself as the phantom mounted his body. She felt so strange. Her body was cold yet solid, and she was somehow both heavy yet light. It was less like a woman was sitting on his lap, and more like a bunch of fluffy pillows had been stacked upon him. Straddling his hips, Sheila's arms slid past his head to gently wrap around his shoulders. As they sat there, she drew his gaze in first towards her face... and then down towards her chest.

Such large.

Large.

Breasts.

They strained against the seams of her robe, which themselves were so tightly tied to her body that they left nothing to the imagination. It was just like how she appeared in his dreams and how she looked the previous night. Only now, she wasn't forcing herself upon him. Only now, he was allowed to gaze upon her as he saw fit. Only now, Marcus suddenly felt less afraid of her.

Only now... only now...

He couldn't believe what he was thinking. He couldn't believe what he was doing.

Marcus' hands slowly traveled up towards the collar of her robe... and then began sliding down to the seams of her cleavage. She... didn't stop him. She didn't even attempt to stop him. In fact...

“Marrrr-Cuuuuusss..."

Sheila did nothing.

Gripping the cleavage of her robes, Marcus stopped himself and shook in place. Was he really about to do this? Why was he about to do this? Why couldn't he stop himself from doing this? Why was he excited to do this? Why? Why?

Why!?

Well... he pulled open her robes...

Fwump!

“Ooooh shit..."

Bouncy.

Jiggly.

Large.

Tits.

Sheila's breasts were whiter than a frozen tundra beneath a full moon, and just as large. This great, grand, gargantuan bosom, perfectly fixed to her thicc form, and with such perky, pointy, pale-pink nipples as well.

And Sheila's response... was seemingly no response.

He looked up to her face, or well, the amount of her face that he could see. She continued looking back at him, her lips still pursed, and her arms still holding him near. If she wasn't going to stop him, then he was just going to keep moving.

Raising his hands, Marcus placed them upon Sheila's chest, where his fingers began sinking in. Ghost or not, her breasts felt so real. They were not only large, but they were so malleable. Soft and plump, he could easily lift, roll, squeeze, and pull upon Sheila's tits.

He was doing this. He was really doing this! He was groping a ghost! And it's not like his fingers moved in through her form! Sheila was just as solid and as real as any woman. Her fur softly brushed aside as his fingers graced her form, and her pale-pink nipples felt so smooth to the touch. Gasping himself, Marcus both couldn't believe what he was doing, and also how good it felt to do it!

“Sheila..." he whispered.

Her robes spilled off of her form, completely falling over to reveal her nude form beneath. He saw it in his dreams and he saw it last night, but it still begs repeating; Sheila was a great, voluptuous beauty. Her form was rubenesque, her figure hourglass like, with wide hips and thick thighs, and of course her buxom breasts.

And all of it was here for him...

Staring down between Sheila's legs as best he could, he realized that – even for a beastkin – she was rather bushy between her legs. Where as her fur was a pale-white, her pussy was covered in thick pubic hair that was black like the hair on her head. Curious. But even more curious were the juices that slid down her thighs.

Sheila was... aroused. Ghosts could get aroused? Considering all the moaning he's heard, he shouldn't really be that surprised. But to feel this honey stain his lap was a different feeling to hearing her moan through his halls, or even finding her stained panties on the kitchen counter.

This was... this was something different.

“bIg PEnIs. mUst fUCk..."

“Wh... what? MMMFFF!?"

Her lips were quick, crashing into his and dominating him in a kiss as strong as it was fast. Mind growing blank, Marcus struggled to catch up with Sheila's fervent need for him. Like the night before, her tongue was surprisingly slender for how canine it was, skillful and deft too. It slicked and slid along his jaw and teeth, swirled and slurped up so much spit, and forced so much of her own spit into his mouth.

Her own spit. So slobbery. So thick. So copious. It was getting... hard to breath...

“Nnngmmph!? Mfuaaaah!? Haaah! Haaah! Sheilaaaaa!"

Fortunately she pulled away, allowing him to breath as he sank down deeper into his couch. Leering up, his gaze met Sheila's face, trying to pierce through the shadows of her hair to see the eyes beneath. But its like they were covered not only in hair, but shadows. If he wanted to see her eyes, he'd need to force the darkness away.

But could he do it?

Raising his hands, he brought them close to Sheila's face.

And he blinked.

She was gone.

He blinked again.

“HaaAHhhaAAAahaH... thIcK CoCK..."

Looking down, Sheila had begun tugging at the pants he wore, slowly pulling them down his body. Biting his bottom lip, he held himself back and just watched, waiting for the moment when--

Flip!

“Aaah..."

Fuck his cock huuurrrt! So much pain ran through his length, pain he was freed of the moment those pants came down. Was he always this hard? He hadn't noticed it at first, but now that his mighty spire had been freed, it was like a weight had been pulled from off his shoulders. He gasped, then he winced and cooed, laying back in his couch while the phantom between his legs placed her graceful hands upon his length.

She felt so fucking soft! Last night he never got the chance to experience her touches due to the fear he felt. But now that he wasn't paralyzed, now that he was freed, he melted beneath the pleasure of her surprisingly sweet hands. She was lusting for him, lusting after him, needing him, wanting him. And she wanted him to know that she wanted him so much.

“Mar-Cus. tHIcK peNiS."

Sheila's words... they no longer scared him. Distorted and static-like though they may be, he still felt enthralled by her voice. Or maybe the touches had just finally pacified him... both could be true. Whatever the case may be, Marcus felt like he was falling.

And Sheila...

“Mmmff... mmmff... mmmfff..."

She peppered his dick with soft kisses, making it twitch. Looking down, he palmed the top of Sheila's head, his fingers grooving between her black hair. One soft clinch, and she opened her mouth, angled his dick with her maw, and--

Sliick!

His cock audibly glided through her lips, where she trapped him within the moist and hot maw within. Groaning around him, Sheila bean sucking his dick, her hair-covered eyes looking up towards him. And she was... smiling. Marcus... couldn't help but to smile too.

Raising a hand, the shapely specter offered it to him. He reached back, grabbing her hand... and then interlocking their fingers together. They clinched at the same time... and then Sheila got to work.

“Glph! Slllk! Mmff! Slurrrrk! Mmmm! Slurrrrp!"

“Aaaah! Sheeeillaaaaa~!"

“Mmf! Mm! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Nmm! Mmm!"

She had absolutely no qualms with deepthroating his cock. Again and again and again. When one doesn't need to breathe, they too will be capable of such amazing things like this! Swallowing his penis down, holding it tight and deep, covering every inch of his long, thick manhood with her tangling drool! When Sheila pulled back, Marcus saw his cock glisten in the darkness of his apartment. And when she pushed back down, her hair fluttered all around her.

But not enough for him to see her eyes. With how shaded out they were, it was more like they were pits of darkness...

Swirling... guiding him in... deeper...

Deeper...

Deeeepeeerrr...

Sheila's fellatio was not only audible, it was so damn erotic. It was in the way she dragged her lips upon every inch of his girthy length, stretching over him in a manner comparable only to trained pornstars. She was purposeful in her moves, wanting to show herself and her skills off. And he, he was...

“Aaaahhh! Sheila! Haaaah! Nngh! Haaah!"

He kept melting into his couch, kept sinking, kept falling back. The way she pulled on him, drew him in deeper, harder, more, and more! His balls clinched, his mouth split open, and he let out a moan to the air as loud as--

“AAAAAHHHHAAA~! Nnnghg!?"

“NNNMMMM! Mmmmmmmm...!"

His cock spasmed within her mouth and throat, the tip flaring as copious cum came coursing through it. The cold body of the specter grew as hot as fire once Marcus' seed filled her, with loud, lustful groans filtering through her lips and rumbling along his cock. Marcus couldn't believe how thick and strong his seed was... though he couldn't really think much at all with how his orgasm rocked him.

Like the night before, Sheila's mouth was filled with seed which oozed along her pink tongue. But as she pulled back, she made sure to keep stroking off Marcus' length, not only drawing his orgasm out longer, but allowing him to shoot his seed all over her face.

Black hair was painted white with cum, and her lustful voice gave wailing moans which reverberated through his apartment. This burning hot facial... it felt so good!

Looking down upon her, Marcus gave a soft gasp in shear surprise. This ghost... he had came all over a ghost's face. The longer this went on, the weirder it became... but he also found himself getting used to it.

It's not that strange... is it?

Marcus blinked...

Sheila was gone.

“Huuh? What?"

His hand falling, he stared down towards his rigid length. It was still glistening in Sheila's spit and his cum, even though the ghost was no longer here. Making matters worse, the pain had returned, causing him to long, if not outright desire Sheila's lustful touches yet again. Placing his hand on his spit-stained cock, Marcus stroked it a few times as he looked around.

And then he blinked...

Bzzzzzzzz!!!

“HaAAah! aaaaAAhhHnN!!! HAaAAAaahH~~~!"

Those noises. Those noises were really familiar. The sound of a woman moaning. The sound of a certain vixen moaning. But it was louder now, stronger, and even the sound of her vibrator was stronger too. It no longer sounded like it was coming through the walls, and instead sounded like it was right beside him.

Because it was.

Marcus looked over...

“HaaaHHN! HaAAAhhHHn!!! haAAaaAHhhH!"

Sheila was right beside him on his couch, her head to the cushions below, and her ass raised up high. He could see every detail of her body. The curvature of her wide ass, the thickness of her thighs, the width of her hips, her puckering anus... and her hairy drooling cunt.

Her hairy drooling cunt that was absolutely gripping upon the vibrating toy within her.

Turning to face Sheila directly, Marcus marveled at the show she was putting on for him. Her toy was buzzing and swirling around within her snatch, sending a splattering of juices as it pleasured every inch of the phantom's womanhood. The moans she gave out were just as whorish as they were ghastly, wailing and bouncing around his apartment and into his ears. Could any of his neighbors hear this, or was this all for him?

All for him...

Marcus bit into his bottom lip...

“How much... can I do..." he asked, though it was hard to tell who he was talking to: Sheila, himself, or someone else, “Will you fight me off if I do something like... THIS!?"

Grab...

And...

SHOVE!

“GGGRRHAAAAAAHHHHAAAAAAAA~~~!"

Gripping the toy by its hilt, Marcus began thrusting, twisting and grinding it against Sheila's folds. The first thrust forced the vixen's back into a 'C' as she arched up, her jaw splitting open to let loose a howling moan. Her entire body seized up as if a climax would rock her, but instead...

SMACK!

“GAHAHA!?"

With a strong hand, Marcus swatted Sheila's plush ass, sending a rippling quiver throughout her form. But he was not pleased with just this, and as his grip on her vibrator tightened, he began outright jamming it into her pussy.

“How are you this... LEWD!?" Marcus shouted as he began jamming her toy in and out of her cunt with reckless abandon, “You're fucking dead! Were you this horny in life as well!? You slutty ghost!"

Another twist of her toy, before shoving it even deeper than before. So much juices, so much nectar, all of it flooded out of her cunt as Marcus ground her toy along her folds. Every twist, push and pull, coaxed a wailing moan from the specter's lips. But she never stopped him, never forced him off. In fact, she ground her hips back against him, forcing her toy to keep battering her pussy.

“I need to fucking sleep, Sheila!" he shouted, “Every night, you fucking keep me up!"

SMACK!

“GGAHAHAAAHHAAA~~~!"

Can a ghost's ass turn red? Well... yeah, surprisingly enough. Marcus wouldn't believe it either if he hadn't seen it himself... if he hadn't done it himself.

Through the pale-white fur on her buttocks, Sheila's ass glowed a certain red. Marcus' hand stung too, while his other hand – the one gripping the toy – was glistening with so much pussy juices. Such a large, thick, sensual body... one meant to be toyed and played with for hours.

Marcus shivered...

“If you just wanted... to fuck..." he said as he pulled the toy from her snatch, letting it schlick! against the floor, “You should have just asked..."

Marcus blinked.

Sheila and her toy were gone.

He blinked again.

“FucK mE."

He looked ahead towards his living room table. Laying on it with her legs spread wide, Sheila flaunted every inch of her voluptuous form. Those lofty tits, those wide hips, her thick thighs and legs, and right there in the, her pussy covered in bushy black hair. Hah... but he could still see the pink of it, even if it was slightly pale like her nipples.

And there was... also this... smell.

What does a ghost smell like? What would you think a ghost smells like? Death? Rotting flesh? Something putrid and horrifying and cold? Instead it was...

Sweet? Yeah. It was sweet. Like an... like an aroma. But it wasn't something he could really put his finger on; it was hard to explain, hard to describe, and really, he didn't want to try. He just wanted to...

Fuck... when did it get so hot in here? Sheila's presence made the air around them cold, but now it was suddenly hot! Grabbing his shirt, Marcus pulled it off his body and tossed it aside. Now that he was just as naked as the phantom vixen before him, he grabbed his dick by the shaft, angled it with her pussy, and--

THWAP!

“Ahaaah~!"

“GGGAHAAAHHAAA~~~!"

With one penetration, his cock separated her folds to slip straight into her moist, dripping cunt. She was tight. Damn tight! But she was also so... soft, like moist cushions. Sinking into her body was surprisingly easy; Sheila's body was so agreeable. Sinking and pushing and delving in deep, not stopping until their hips had met.

Fuck she was cold on the outside, but damn was she as hot as blisters on the inside! So wet too; his cock was being trapped and tangled in the juices of her cunt. Like her maw before, Sheila showed expert skill in how she pulled Marcus' dick in deeper into her body. Dominating and holding him in close, she utterly refused to let go. It was so big inside of her, so wide and so long. Every single last one of her buttons were being poked and prodded, all at once.

She couldn't let it leave her. She'd never let it leave her.

“fuCK mE."

Oh... he was going to fuck her alright. He was going to fuck her so fucking--

THWAP!

GOOD!

To fuck a ghost... that's... a statement he's never thought would cross his mind in life. But not only was he thinking it, he was doing it. Marcus' long, hard, hot cock, slipped in and out of Sheila's body, thrusting and bounding into her with enough force to make her body and breasts bounce. His grip was hard on her thighs, holding her in place, while his steeled rod slipped in and out of her folds at a growing pace.

And as he did so – as he abused this voluptuous body she had – Marcus found his pace and strength growing in vigor. He gritted his teeth and then fell forward, pinning Sheila to the table as his hands fell besides her head. With him in this position, her legs were also forced up, while her cum and hair-covered face stared up to face the growling man above her.

“You fucking ghost!" he shouted as he wildly thrusted in and out of her body without care for her own pleasure, “Why couldn't you be more traditional! Do you know how embarrassing it is to tell that shop lady that the ghost I'm being haunted by is fucking horny!?"

“yEs! YeS! ShAMe mE mOre! OOOOO-HOOOOOH-HOOOOOH!!!"

“And you're a fucking masochist too!? WHAT A BITCH OF A GHOST!!!"

“GGHAHAAAGGHAH!"

Marcus blinked...

Thump!

“Mmmfff...?"

Sheila was gone.

Having fallen on his table where the phantom vixen once was, Marcus pulled himself up and looked around. Damn, how does she do that so fast?

Marcus blinked...

“FuCk Me. ShAme ME!"

Looking over, Marcus' eyes befell Sheila. She was on his couch, her arms resting on its back, and her ass raised up high for his viewing pleasure. Those large, pale-white orbs, her glistening pussy, and that thick black bush; all shamelessly exposed. And those words.

Again and again.

“Fuckmeshamemefuckmeshamemefuckmeshamemefuckmeshameme."

And then louder.

“FUCKMESHAMEMEFUCKMESHAMEMEFUCKMESHAMEME!!!"

And then wilder.

“FuCKmESHamEMefuCKmEshAMemEFUcKmeSHamEmE!!!"

“D-dammit... I heard you the first fucking time!"

Grab!

And...

THRUST!

“GgGgGgGGfhfgwdslkFLGkldjfklrjglkajdlJLhgeljds~~~!"

With one thrust, Marcus' slammed deep into Sheila's cunt, making her body and back arch. Her hair fluttered around her form, but due to this position, he couldn't see her eyes. He probably wouldn't have been able to see them anyway... regardless...

His hands gripped tightly upon this endless ass before him, while his thick cock kept slamming away into her pussy with reckless abandonment. Thick, feminine juices splattered and popped around his cock, while he slid in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out. There was no style, no finesse, just wild punishment from a man who – ironically – just wanted to sleep.

And boy... did he fuck her. Marcus gave no quarter, no inch. The moment his cock slid out, it came ramming back in. Again and again, with each force seemingly greater than the last. A sensual clapping noise even sounded off as Sheila's bountiful butt slammed against his toned waist, and this wave further transitioned throughout the rest of her body.

The ghost was being absolutely rammed over the couch. Her large, saggy tits slapped against one another, and her mouth was split wide open for all to see. From it, such deep, wailing, whorish moans echoed out, filling the air around them as she was brought to the heights of pleasure.

Who knew ghosts could scream?

Who knew ghosts were so tight?

This pressure ran through Marcus' dick, sliding from the shaft to the tip and back again. Sheila's pussy was vice-like; squeezing and clamping down on his length to hold it hostage within her. But pulling back was never too hard, not with all these slick, wet juices flowing from her drooling mound. It was a back and forth he'd argue; every thrust inside she would squeeze tight, but ever retreat she'd let loose, just to let him come roaring back inside again. And as the thrusting grew stronger and faster, Marcus' own desires began to balloon. Watching that hair flutter about, he reached out with one hand, and grabbed it tight into his grasp!

“GRRAAHA!?"

And he pulled back... reaaallly pulled back. Sheila's a ghost, so there's no discomfort... right? Her body was forced into an hard 'C' from his yanking grip, exposing her voluptuous form to nothing but the darkness of his apartment. Her pussy grew tight too, Marcus ground himself against her, he felt his balls grow tight.

And then he blinked...

Fwump!

“Nmmmff..."

And he met a face-full of couch. Huh...

Rubbing his head whilst pulling up, Marcus leered around the apartment in search of Sheila, while his cock continued throbbing with heat and vigor. She really liked doing this little blinking-teleport thing, huh? Which means all he'd need to do is blink again, right? So...

Marcus blinked...

“Mar-Cus..."

He turned around, facing his TV where standing before it was Sheila. Her arms were extended towards him, and she moved forward with a sensual sway of her hips. When Marcus blinked this time, she didn't fade away. No, she darted forward, clearing an impossible distance in such a short amount of time. Another blink, and another great bound forward. Another blink, and she was standing in front of him.

Her plump lips moved.

“Kiss..."

Marcus swallowed his spit.

“Kiss..." he repeated.

For the second time that night, Sheila mounted him, sitting perfectly in his lap. And for the second time that night, they kissed. But things were different this time. This time, Marcus fought back.

Holding and clinging the phantom vixen close, he gleefully pressed his lips up to hers, and just as eagerly traded spit with the erotic ghost. Muffled moans and groans left them, while Sheila shifted her weight. Marcus found himself falling back on his couch, with the phantom vixen sitting above him. Amid their furious makeout session, her hair fell over his face to shroud him in darkness.

He still couldn't see her eyes. Funny that.

Sheila's body suddenly felt even heavier than before, but this increase in weight did not feel uncomfortable in the least bit. Marcus actually began grinding back against her, his thick cock slapping up against her thigh.

This tool, this rod which she had been lusting for, she could feel the heat resonate from off its surface. Just one push, and she'd be ready to reach the heights of pleasure she could never obtain in life.

So Sheila wiggled her hips, ready to connect with him one more time this night. This time though, she was going to ride him until the finish; ride him until he couldn't keep going anymore. For being a ghost blesses one with certain undeniable gifts. In this case, endless and boundless energy.

As Marcus was soon about to learn.

Sheila shifted herself one more time, brushing his cock up against her pussy. Pulling back from his lips, a wailing moan left her lips as she felt the heat burn her from the outside in. Her cool, cold body needed this heat, this fire, and she couldn't be without it for much longer. So one last twist, and--

THWAP!

“GRRRAAAAAHHH~~!"

“Aaaaahhhh~!"

Marcus' length slipped right inside her folds!

For the third time that night, he felt his length slid inside of those hot, tight folds. They squeezed him, clenched down, gripped and groped every inch of his dick, while Sheila sat erect on his length. Hugging her self close, she gave a wailing moan out to the heavens above... while Marcus realized he had his chance.

He brought up his hands and placed them upon her face. She did not fight back. With a mere push...

“Oooooooh... wow..."

Sheila's eyes were bright. Brighter than the moon, he'd say. In fact, it would be more accurate to say she had captured the moon within her eyes with how bright they were. So bright... and so eerie. These were not the kind of eyes you'd want staring at you from afar within a deep, dark forest. And yet... being here, Marcus didn't feel scared. He wasn't scared when he stared into those eyes, and he wasn't scared when her hair began flying.

Yeah... flying. Her hair started defying gravity! It was like she was underwater with how it billowed and ballooned around her head, spiraling about with hypnotic movements. The vixen's mouth even split into a wide, fang-flashing smile as she leered down at him. Trapped...

Captured...

“Fuck. Me."

It was clear, lacking any sort of static or filter of any kind. Was this what Sheila sounded like in life? This sweet, this kind, this beautiful, this... erotic?

So. Damn. Erotic!

Marcus reached down, his hands grabbing upon Sheila's waist. She leaned over to meet him, with her hands resting on his shoulders. Those bright eyes of hers dominated his gaze, while her moist mound clung to his cock.

He thrusted up.

Thwap!

And she bounced back down.

Pat!

And together, they--

PATPATPATPATPATPATPATPATPATPATPATPAPTAPTPATPATPATPATPAT!!!

His thrusts sent quivers through her form. They ruminated, traveling higher and higher like the rolling waves of an ocean. Sheila's bright eyes began wavering, her mouth growing wide to let loose more howling moan to the skies above. This pleasure! This relentless, enduring, overpowering, overwhelming pleasure! Traveling, rocketing, pounding into her, again and again, harder and harder.

And harder...

The pressure and speed was so too great, it had Sheila leaning back and her glowing eyes closing shut. From her mouth came another wailing, howling moan, which shook the very foundation of the apartment around them. It was almost there, almost there! That surging, powerful bullet of cum! She could feel it rising through his dick, just like before with her mouth! Rising, rising, rising, higher and higher and higher and until--

THWAP!

“GRAAAHHHAAAAAHH~~!"

One thick, mighty rush upwards of his powerful, hard length, straight up to her core! She felt it, running through his dick, straight through the tip, and right inside of her! This burning...

Glowing...

Luscious...

Thick...

Hot...

Seed...

Sheila's eyes doubled in size, her flowing hair froze up in place, and one loud, deep, booming moan left her wailing lips. He was cumming inside of her. He was cumming deeeeeeep inside of her! And that feeling, that rush of spunk as it overwhelmed and overflowed within her womb, it--

“GHRRHGHGGHGHGHGHGHAHAGHAGHAH!?"

It felt so good... haaah... having this orgasm felt so good!

Aside from the voice, the eyes, and that wicked hair, watching Sheila's climax was as hypnotic as watching any woman be brought to the heights of pleasure. This amazing, voluptuous, rubenesque form, shaking and quivering with ecstasy. From the head, to the toes, and everywhere in between. Her luscious, pale-white fur, glowing in the lights through his window, her great beasts, bouncing and wobbling, her hips grinding down upon his lap, and her pussy, clinching and gripping upon his dick.

She was beauty given form in the body of a phantom... the body of a phantom that was slowly... fading.

Reaching out for her, Marcus watched as Sheila's entire body began fading away. First to transparency, then to complete translucence, and then... to nothing.

“Haahh!? Hoooh...? Huh....?"

Looking up and round, Sheila had completely vanished. Marcus couldn't even feel her weight on his body anymore! One moment she was riding his cock, the next moment, there was nothing. The only signs of her ever being here would be the seed which dribbled down his length, and these residing juices from her pussy.

If it comes from a ghost... does that make this ectoplasm? Yuck!

Resting back, Marcus peered up to the ceiling above... then closed his eyes. If blinking brings Sheila back, then maybe this would work. So he reopened his eyes and...

There was no one there.

He blinked again.

There was no one there.

He blinked again.

There was no one there.

He blinked again.

There was no one there.

He blinked one last time.

There was still no one there.

“Haaaaah... maaan... uughhh..."

So... well... that happened. He couldn't believe it happened, but it did indeed happened. He just... heh... he just fucked a ghost. Just like...

“Oh shit..."

Resting on his couch, Marcus ran his hand through along his head and hair, wondering how things progressed to this level. It left him feeling a strange mixture of confusion yet fulfillment, even slight content... before the post-nut existential thoughts set in, and he began questioning his entire reality.

“What the actual fuck...?" he muttered to himself.

…

“Hrrgghh... hrrnnngmmmnn...! Hrrrrrggghh! Dammit! What's the point of this! I need SSRs! Not this stupid... fucking... common shit! SSRs, dammit! SSRs! SS--" Shfhfhfhfhfhf... “Gaah!"

Ryoko groaned as her head jerked up, teeth bore in aggression towards some invisible god. Slapping down her phone, she had just spent more money – about twenty dollars in fact – on even more bad pulls on this damn phone game she was playing. Like, seriously, what's the fucking point if the game keeps giving her commons and SRs, when she clearly wants SSRs! This fucking bullshit ass fucking game!

Well... time to spend more money...

Wait... someone had come into her store, right? Well, straightening up, the catwoman was prepared to shoo away any woman thinking this place was another boutique. Perhaps she should change the name of her store...

“Welcome to Ryoko's Boutique. If you think this is a hair saloon, I am afraid you are sorely mistaken," said the feline with her typical dry tone, only to look up and see, “Marcus?"

It had been about a week since she last saw him; the young man being haunted by a lewd ghost. Just thinking about it made her blush from embarrassment... but the same couldn't be said for him. Marcus looked at her with a surprisingly cheerful smile on his face. Even his clothes – which last time were so disheveled – had become normal. No longer was he the baggy-eyed, exhausted young man he was before. Now he was... lively.

“Marcus? What happened? I haven't seen you in a week," Ryoko said, while he chuckled.

“Eh-heh... yeah! That's why I'm here," he said whilst scratching the back of his head sheepishly, “I wanted to thank you for your help, Ryoko. That charm you gave me last... it worked wonders! Sheila... she became real and everything."

“She did? And you... you spoke to her?" Ryoko asked, stunned.

“Weeeeelll... kind of..." he muttered whilst waving his hand, “I'm not sure if I exorcised her or anything, but we had a... conversation, to put it lightly. And... well... look at me!" he patted his hands upon his chest, “It's been a week, and I haven't been haunted once! No more moans through the walls, no more vibrating, no more panties, none of that! I've been able to sleep sooooooo good! Aaah... I got an 'A' on my last exam, and I've been more attentive at work! I really have you to thank for this, Ryoko. If you hadn't given me that charm, none of this would have been possible!"

“Oh... um... well... o-okay then..." said the catwoman as she looked down, perplexed by the information told to her, “I'm... happy I was of use? I guess?"

“Really... um..." his smile grew smaller, but it was no less strong, “Thanks, Ryoko. I was really stuck, and if not for you, I don't think things would have gone this well..."

“Uh..."

She looked at him, even more confused by everything that happened. He hadn't exorcised Sheila, but she was no longer haunting him? What happened in that conversation that could make this change? And even though he claimed he was no longer being haunted, he absolutely reeked of paranormal energies! Perhaps it hadn't ran off yet – these things tend to linger – but she couldn't help but to wonder if something else was going on behind closed doors.

So she asked...

“Did you wish to return the charm?"

Marcus shook his head.

“No... I think I'll keep it. As a little... reminder of what happened. Heh..."

…

Ssssskkkkkkkkksssssshhhh!!!

“Haaaah..."

A nice, hot, steaming, shower. It really hits the spot after a long day of work and classes, don't it?

Drawing his hand over as he felt the water steadily turn cooler and cooler, Marcus twisted the shower's knob, bringing everything to a halt. He felt livelier now as his body glistened under the light, and he certainly acted it too for there was this spry, spring in his step. Getting out of his shower stall, he grabbed a nearby towel and began drying off. And once his towel fell from his face, his eyes looked at the foggy mirror before him where he saw...

Big Penis Must Fuck

Was written upon its surface.

He sighed. Then smiled.

“Okay, okay... you don't have to pull my leg..."

Putting on his nightpants and shirt, Marcus exited his bathroom and made way for his bed, feeling his body both long for rest, yet also perk up for what was to come. He can't go to sleep now! Not with what was coming his way.

Above his doorway there stood a talisman, one of seemingly Japanese descent. But upon closer inspection, you'd realize it was a strange charm that looked like a cross between the Japanese kanji for 'Heaven', and the Egyptian symbol of life: the ankh. Marcus palmed it gently as he entered his bedroom, before falling upon his bed. There he laid, looking up to the dark ceiling over head as a smile spread out over his lips.

Marcus blinked.

Sheila sat upon his lap, her body clad in a white rob which was so close, it might as well have been considered a second layer of skin. Her long black hair flowed down her head like drapery, and perfectly covered her eyes.

Almost.

Perhaps she had gotten used to him, for there were a few splits in the phantom vixen's hair that allowed him to see glimpses of her illustrious eyes. Eyes that were locked squarely on him.

“Marcus," Sheila said as her hands rested upon his chest, “Fuck. Me."