Puppet Masters: A Ghost Sex Story (Bizarre Erotica Stories) (2 page)

I was suddenly overwhelmed with spirits: humans, dogs, cats—a parrot—I was an open door. Or more like I’d opened the door and they all came rushing in. I’d almost go back to flinging hymnals if this was how it was going to be.

I finally waded through the non-humans and anyone or thing not actually in the room with me and focused on the girl. With surprising ease I felt myself glide into her human form. There was a brief ‘snap’, like the focus suddenly got adjusted and everything was crystal clear. I had a body. And this body was made for...and aching for...sex.

“Oh. My. God. Max, this is incredible.” I threw my arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his body through our clothes, feeling his heart beating against my chest—against my breasts—as he hugged me back. I pulled away, looking down.

“Max, I have breasts!” I ran my hands up over my stomach and cupped what had to be double DDs in my hands, clutching and grasping at them. My body…my real body…had had a hard time filling a B cup bra, even on a good day. These were amazing. I knew it was shallow, but I wanted to see these, wanted to watch them bounce and sway. I shook my shoulders and they did just that...bounced and swayed in a really sexy way. I didn’t realize it was possible to get turned on by watching your own fully clothed breasts jiggle, but apparently for me it was.

Max was laughing, calmly undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt. “Delia, you’re a trip. You know, I did this so we could make love, not so you could have ‘private time’ with your breasts.” He reached out and finished undoing the buttons on my shirt, peeling it off my shoulders. The bra I was wearing was lacy and black, nothing like my familiar white cotton bras. I was mesmerized.

“Oh, Max, look. How gorgeous.” The fabric of the bra was so soft, so delicate, I wondered how it managed to keep her breasts restrained. One of my fingers brushed against a nipple; there was an immediate jolt in the pit of my stomach, something I’d never felt before. I did it again; again with the jolt. Oh, I could get used to this.

“Delia, you’re beautiful. I’ve always said so. And yes, those are very gorgeous breasts.” Max was still watching me, but looking a little less amused.

“Oh, the breasts…yeah. I really meant the bra. But these breasts are amazing.” I looked up at him and suddenly wanted his hands on my body, not my own. I reached out, taking his hands in mine and putting them on my breasts. I saw his eyes widen, heard him inhale sharply.

“Oh, Delia…I can finally touch you. Yeah, this is better than hymnals.” Max cupped my breasts—my breasts, I liked the sound of that—gently squeezing them in his hands. His breath got all raspy for a moment and his eyes sort of glazed over as he watched his hands touching and fondling me.

“Max...”

“Yeah?” came the dreamy reply.

“Max. Touch my nipples...Max, please.” I wanted to experience that stomach-contracting jolt again, but I wanted Max to make it happen.

“Oh, yeah, right. Like this?” He ran his thumbs across my nipples, and there it was again, that thud deep inside. Only with Max, it was ten times stronger, sending waves out all the way to my fingers. I shuddered under his touch.

“Oh, yeah. Oh, Max, this is wonderful.” I looked down at his hands cupping me, watched my nipples grow hard, poking against the lacy parts of the bra. I didn’t realize they did that; I’d apparently been missing out on a lot when I was alive. He moved his hands across so he could palm my nipples. The harder he pressed and rubbed, the bigger the sensation. I was breathing hard and could feel heat and wetness between my legs.

And then...he leaned down to kiss me.

I felt his lips on mine for the first time and almost melted. They were simultaneously soft and hard, caressing my mouth, sliding over me. I felt his tongue slip between my lips, gently flicking around in my mouth. I opened up to him, his tongue instantly probing, meeting mine, and asking it to dance. And they did, accompanied by our moans and sighs. They did the tango and a waltz and dub stepped; it was heaven.

Max started moving his body against mine, slowly rubbing his hips back and forth against my stomach, his hands still moving over my breasts. I could feel his erection pressing into me and I slid a hand down to cup him through his jeans.  He groaned against my mouth. I gave an experimental rub and he groaned louder. Suddenly he pulled away from me, hands on my shoulders.

“Delia, you’re not a virgin, are you?” The look on his face was one of fear mixed with about eight other emotions, none of them good.

“No, Max. I’m not a virgin. I don’t have much experience, but I have had sex.” It wasn’t something I enjoyed admitting but we had always been honest with each other.

“Oh, good. I didn’t want to hurt you if I had to pop your cherry.” I doubled over with laughter. This girl had a really big laugh.

Max stood watching, his fearful look replaced by one of a total lack of understanding.

“What is it? What did I say?” He really didn’t get it. It’s one of the many things I love about him.

“Max…” I gasped out the words between gales of laughter. “It doesn’t matter if I’m a virgin, this isn’t my body. You wouldn’t be popping my cherry anyway. And I’m pretty sure this girl’s had sex before.”

Max managed to look sheepish and sexy all at the same time. “Oh, yeah…well, you know, anyone could make that mistake.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Can we get back to what we were doing?”

Laughter had dispelled the last of the tension I’d felt; I pulled Max hard against me, grabbing his ass with my hands. “You bet, stud.” His erection was still there, big as ever, pushing against my stomach. I swiveled my hips back and forth, grinding myself against him. His eyes widen in surprise but he recovered pretty quickly. His hands found my wonderful breasts again as his mouth came down on mine.

Our kisses got more passionate, Max’s hands more aggressive on my breasts. I was squirming against him, trying to get all of me in some kind of contact with all of him. We were working on getting the jeans off our bodies, Max managing to undo the zipper on my jeans with one hand as I yanked and pulled on the zipper of his. We finally had to break away so I could strip off the skin tight jeans this girl had painted on her body. Max slid his easily down his slim hips, kicking them aside.

As I straightened up, Max was gawking at me—there was no other word for the look on his face.

“What? What’s the matter?” He was worrying me.

“Oh, my God, Delia. You really are so beautiful. You need to see the whole package.” Max looked around the room, finding the mirror. He put his hands on my hips and propelled me to other side of the room.

Looking back at me was a beautiful girl, with a stunning body. The breasts were amazing, as I had already discovered. But the rest of me was pretty awesome as well; my waist was tiny—I had a navel piercing—with hips flaring into some pretty serious curves. I turned around, looking over my shoulder at my ass: round and firm and luscious. I was speechless. And the panties I was wearing matched the bra, all black satin and lace.

I caught Max’s eyes looking at my reflection in the mirror. They were practically on fire. He reached down and unsnapped the hooks on the bra, sliding it down my arms and letting it fall to the floor.

“Oh, Max.” I breathed. He ran his hands up over my ass, squeezing me, his breath all raspy again. He slid his hands around my hips, finally sliding them down beneath the front edge of my panties. I watched as his fingers disappeared beneath the black satin, traveling down between my legs, exploring uncharted territory. He was kissing a slow line from my ear to my shoulder, his eyes never leaving our reflection in the mirror.

“Delia, touch your breasts again. I want to watch you touch yourself.” His voice had gotten deep and husky. My hands slid briefly over his, then retraced their earlier path up my stomach, up to my breasts. They were full and firm, the skin soft to the touch. The nipples were a rosy pink against darker pink areolas, so amazingly young and fresh looking.

“What do you want me to do, Max?” I was panting. “How should I touch myself?” I backed up against him, his hard cock now poking me in the ass. He groaned against my neck, thrusting his hips forward against me. 

“Lick your fingers and then pull your nipples…rub them between your fingers.” I did as I was told. I slowly licked my index fingers, sliding them in and out of my mouth, Max watching every move I made. Then we both watched as I pinched and rolled my nipples as they grew harder and longer. There was definitely a direct connection from those nipples to some deep dark place inside of me, some place that thumped and jolted and called out to be fucked and fucked hard.

Max’s hands were running up against the other end of that dark place, his fingers working into the wet warmth between my legs. I involuntarily bent my knees and spread my legs, my hips tilting forward, giving him free range, which he took full advantage of. His hands were magic, touching, probing, making little shivers run up my spine. My hips took on a life of their own, twitching, rolling from side to side, shifting back and forth, all in response to Max’s fingers touching me in places I didn’t even know existed.

He was pushing me back against his erection, slowly thrusting forward, his cock wedged between the cheeks of my ass, sliding up and down that soft, satin covered valley. I could hear his breath whistling through his teeth as he inhaled. I thought we it was time we found a better place for that cock.

“Max, fuck me, please. I want to feel your cock inside of me.” I watched my eyes widen; I’d never said anything like that in my life. Max looked up from my neck, his eyes half closed.

“Delia…” he breathed my name into my hair. He slowly pulled his hands out of my underwear and with one quick movement, ripped the panties in two pieces, coming away with a clump of shredded satin in each hand. I watched them fall out of view in the mirror.

“Front or back, top or bottom?” Max growled out the words into my hair.

“What? Oh…um, well…do you have a preference?”

“I want you, Delia, not a discussion.” He spun me away from the mirror, one hand on my ass, his body in full contact against me, his mouth consuming mine, his erection seeming to have gotten bigger. He walked me backward until my knees hit the edge of the bed. One more push had me on my back. I watched my breasts sway and clutched at them, sending another jolt to that special place.

Max was between my legs in a heartbeat, pushing my knees up and apart, running his hands up the insides of my thighs. I looked up at him, all blonde hair and muscles, watching him looking down at my naked temporary body.

“Delia, I love you so much. Are you ready for this?” I nodded and he stretched out above me, holding his cock in his hand, rubbing the tip against my slit, pushing and stretching me open, slowly sliding the head of his penis into me.

“You’re so wet, Delia, so hot.” He slid his cock into me, pushing forward until he had filled me completely with his length and girth. It was the most amazing feeling, having Max inside someone else inside of me.

Max dropped his head to my shoulder, nuzzling my neck as he pulled himself out slowly and slid into me again, exhaling a soft moan each time he found home. He picked up speed after a few minutes, thrusting faster with each stroke, hitting me with a hard little thump at the end of each thrust. I got the rhythm and pushed back, meeting him at the end with a little thump of my own. I felt him smile against my shoulder. One of his hands wandered up to fondle my breast, palming the nipple again, as he stroked in and out of me.

It’s amazing how sometimes time stands still when you lose yourself in something. We might have fucked for hours; I lost track of time. I felt like I could do this forever; just have Max fuck me for eternity. But Max, and his new-found body, had a different agenda.

Max was grunting loudly with each thrust now, his rhythm getting a little erratic, his hips getting a little twitchy. I sensed this was pre-orgasmic sex for this body and for Max and I wanted to watch him, so I pushed him up off my shoulder.

“I want to see you fucking me, Max. I want to watch your face when you come.” Max looked down at me, a whole range of emotions running across his face, the predominant one being lust.

Max raised his body off mine so I could see. I looked down between our bodies and watched Max making love to me, his hard cock sliding in and out of me, wet with my juices. Watching him—watching us—ignited a whole new burning inside me, suddenly pushing me to the edge of my own orgasm.