Fifty Shades of Erotica: Ghosts of Desire
(paranormal erotica, ghost story, ghost romance, ghosts, ghost, ghost erotica, ghost sex, Halloween, Halloween stories, sexy Halloween, Halloween erotica)
Michelle Fox
Copyright 2012. All rights reserved.
Blurb
Cassandra is about to be possessed by desire...
While ghost hunting in a haunted prison, Cassandra finds herself transported into the memories of Andrew Smith, a handsome man wrongfully accused of murdering his fiancé. His ghost lingers in a prison cell, aching for his lost love. Before long, she finds herself playing the role of his lover, reliving a seductive and passionate affair more than a hundred years old.
When she wakes...if she wakes, Cassandra will discover the past has reached far into her future with surprising consequences.
Ghosts of Desire is an erotic story of 6,000 words. Contains explicit sex, for mature audiences only.
Ghosts of Desire
“Come on, Cass.” Kelly tugged on my arm, forcing me to one step closer to prison.
“I don’t think I can do this.” I leaned back, resisting her attempts to keep me moving toward the dark building in front of us. A cool breeze blew and I shivered. The weather had skipped Indian summer and went straight to Old Man Winter this year.
“But you promised.” She waved her hand. “Look, the camera crews are here. You cannot bail on me now. I need you.”
I sighed regretting the moment I’d agreed to do this for her. Kelly was my best friend and mom to three crazy kids who, while I loved them dearly, made me grateful I was still single and looking. A stay-at-home-mom, she never got any sleep or down time, and money was always tight. When her hobby had given her a chance to get out of the house in a big way, she had begged me to help.
The only hitch? Her hobby was ghost hunting. While I still slept with the lights on and changed the channel when horror movie previews came on, she sought out the dark, demanding to know its secrets. For some reason, ghosts flocked to her. After she’d posted a video on the internet showing a spirit manifestation that had seemed to follow her directions and talk back to her, Hollywood had come knocking.
The show was called ‘Paranormal Mom’ and they wanted to shoot a test episode tonight. In an abandoned prison. Worse, it was Halloween. I’d somehow been suckered into being a member of her ghost hunting group on the single most spooky day of the year. Kelly didn’t want to disappoint the producers and had recruited everyone she could to ensure no spirit would go unrecorded.
“You said there would be lights.” I couldn’t keep the accusatory note out of my voice.
She frowned and looked at the prison, a warren of stone walls and ominous shadows. Decommissioned in the 1920s, it was prime ghost real estate, housing some of the most notorious criminals of the time. Its history was rich with murder and revenge. “They should be on.” She beckoned to the cluster of TV people. “Hey guys, where are the lights?”
The director, a short guy with an overgrown beard and no sense of manscaping whatsoever, shrugged. “We want it dark. There’s more tension that way.”
“How will you be able to film us?” I asked.
He pointed to the film equipment sitting on the ground waiting to be used. “We have lights on the cameras. Besides, you ladies have flashlights, right?”
I clutched the little Maglite in my coat pocket. It would keep me from tripping, but not much more. “Great,” I muttered to myself. “I’m going to be eaten alive by ghosts.”
“They aren’t mosquitoes. Get a grip, Cass.” Kelly rolled her eyes. “I’ll set you up with the audio recording, okay? You can sit just inside the door and that’s it. You won’t even have to go into the prison.”
I nodded. “I can do that.”
***
I had thought I would be okay with my position at the entrance. All I had to do was keep an eye on the recording equipment. If there were ghosts chattering away, I wouldn’t hear them until Kelly ran the tape later. If things got weird, I could be out the door in seconds. Over all, not the worst set-up for a scaredy cat like me.
It was still creepy though. At first, I’d been able to hear Kelly and the film crew, but their voices and footsteps had faded, giving way to noises I couldn’t identify. A strange whistling sound keened and I tried to believe it was just wind whooshing through a wall somewhere. There were scuffing sounds that had to be animals, although the idea of mice was not exactly reassuring. Wasn’t it mice that gave people bubonic plague? I tried to Google that on my phone, but couldn’t get a good connection. The prison was a dead zone.
I zipped up my coat and shoved my hands in my pockets trying to ward off the fall chill. So far, so good. If Kelly makes it big, she’d better buy me something nice. I was due for a good turn. My last boyfriend had ditched me for some bimbo and a corporate buy-out had cost me my job. Both money and romance had been lacking in my life of late. Surely the universe would not be so cruel as to force me to sit in the dark with the dead and not provide some kind of positive counterbalance, right?
Something fluttered overhead. I looked up and saw nothing. It stopped and then started again, this time louder. Shit. I retrieved my flashlight from the window sill--I’d set it there in an effort to obtain as much ambient light as possible. Aiming it at the ceiling, I gave an involuntary shriek at what I saw.
Bats.
Fucking mice with wings.
Swarms of them.
“Shoo,” I said, my voice timid. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be outside eating bugs?”
They flapped their wings at the sound of my voice, their beady little eyes gleaming like obsidian as they focused on me. One of them swooped down and would’ve buzzed my head if I hadn’t run off, screaming at the top of my lungs.
Stupidly, I didn’t go out the front door as I’d planned all along, but ran deeper into the prison on pure instinct. By the time I stopped, I was surrounded by absolute darkness. I spun in a circle trying to remember which way was which. There were four hallways to choose from, and I had no idea which one I’d come from.
I was lost.
Shit.
Holding my breath, I strained to listen, hoping to catch sound of Kelly or the film crew, but heard nothing. With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone. If I could reach Kelly she might be able to find me or at least guide me in the right direction. Only my phone flashed a ‘no signal’ message on the screen.
No one was coming to help me.
Thinking fast, I decided to try and find a window. If I could see outside I might be able to get my bearings. Taking a deep breath, I picked a hallway at random and went for it. I was too scared of the dark to sit and do nothing. If I kept moving, I would get out of this, somehow.
Unfortunately, while I found a window, the view didn’t help. I couldn’t see the parking lot and all that told me was I was even more lost than I’d realized
Just when I’d given up hope and resigned myself to waiting for daylight, I heard a voice.
“Over here,” said a man in the distance.
Relieved, I oriented myself to the direction of the voice and rushed to track it down before I lost it.
“Come this way,” he said.
I didn’t recognize his voice, but assumed he was a member of the film crew. “I’m coming,” I cal
led out.
“In here.” I followed the voice into a small, windowless cell. I stepped inside and scanned the room with my flashlight. It was empty. Thinking I’d made a mistake, I turned to leave, but the metal door slammed shut with a screeching whine.
I ran to the door and tried to open it, but it was either locked or jammed from old age. “Hello?” I called out, anxiety making my voice high-pitched.
“Behind you,” said a deep voice.
I whirled around, my heart pounding in my chest. A man stood in the center of the cell. Dressed only in baggy trousers and a white undershirt, he was tall with brooding dark looks. If not for the sheer terror I was experiencing, I would have thought him handsome.
“Hello, Cassandra.” He smiled.
I relaxed a little, disarmed by his smile which made him look kind. “Are you with the film crew?”
He shook his head and the smile faded, replaced by a grim expression. “I’m with the dead.”
Before I could scream, he rushed for me, feet pushing off the ground as he launched himself in the air. A frigid wind slammed into my body. At the same time, a roiling black cloud streamed into my mouth and down my throat, so cold it burned. I choked and clawed at my neck. My knees quickly went weak from the assault and the inability to breath and I sank to the floor.
My stomach heaved, rejecting the ice-cold spirit that rammed its way into my flesh. Strangled screams filled my throat, emerging as breathless shrieks. The floor rose up to meet me and I fell into darkness so complete, it swallowed me like a black hole.
***
I woke to another time, another place. I was outside, on a dirt road surrounded by trees and fields. My comfortable pants and shirt had been exchanged for a fitted, old-fashioned dress in pale pink. The corset pinched my ribs making breathing difficult and the heavy skirts hung almost to the ground. Narrow shoes compressed my feet and I wobbled as I turned in a circle.
“Where am I? What is this?”
The man who had jumped me in the prison cell stepped forward. He had changed his clothes too. Instead of a loose shirt and baggy pants, he wore a brown suit and a fancy bowtie around his neck. “In my memories.”
“Are you...are you in my body?” I put a hand to my chest, relieved when it felt solid. At least I wasn’t an illusion even if everything else around me was.
“I believe the correct term is possession.”
“But why?”
His expression darkened. “To show you the truth.” He waved his hand and the scene blurred as it changed. “My name is Andrew Smith and I had one great love in my life, a woman named Mary Holmes.”
Our new location was a school, one of those old one-room schools. Students sat in orderly rows, small chalkboards on their desk. The teacher, an older woman with steel gray hair and a pinched nose, paced the front of the room, lecturing.
“We met here.” He nodded over to where a much younger version of him sat. I recognized him because the hair and posture were the same. As I watched, his younger self smiled and winked at the girl next to him. She wore a blue dress that looked Victorian to me with its high collar. Her blonde hair was pulled away from her face and tied with a ribbon that matched her dress.
She hid her smile behind her hand, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. She shook her head at Andrew in silent admonishment.
“We were forbidden to know each other.”
“By who?” I asked.
The boy who would someday be the ghost currently in possession of my body, waited until the teacher’s back was turned and then, using a sling shot, launched a barrage of small stones. They soared in an arc over the class, and, one by one, the students in the room looked up as they passed. Someone snickered and the teacher spun around, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. The pebbles clattered to the floor and she issued a stern warning, which was met with bored indifference.
“Our parents.” The man took my hand and pulled me outside the school house. “Our families ran general stores and the competition was acrimonious.”
“Acri...what?” I frowned.
“Bitter.”
I nodded. Things were starting to make sense now. “Okay. So you were like Romeo and Juliet.”
“Yes. The bard knew tragedy well. As you will see, it was no stranger to us either.” He stared off into the distance, his eyes dark pools of deep sadness.
A little pang went through my heart. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” He tugged on my hand again, pulling me forward. Time and place surged around us, flickering in and out of focus. There were walks after school. Secret glances at church. Stolen kisses. Andrew and Mary managed to carry on a torrid love affair right under their families’ noses. Then we were in Europe: Stonehenge, the Eiffel Tower, the Coliseum of Rome. He was alone now. Mary was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is she?” I scanned our surroundings.
“I went to Europe without her. We tried to coordinate our trips so we could be together, but her parents kept her home at the last minute.”
“Do you think her family suspected?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
We were in the woods now, in a small clearing. It was summer and the sun filtered down through the greenery overhead in dappled shadows. A blanket lay on the ground, the remains of a picnic scattered around its edges.
My perspective dissolved, swirling in a dizzy mix of colors. For a long moment, the world was a fractured rainbow spinning around me. When everything came back into focus again, I found myself thrust into Mary’s viewpoint, looking at Andrew through her eyes.
“It was horrible,” he said.
Mary laughed. “Really? Europe is so bad?”
“You’re what makes life good.” He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet covered box.
Mary’s heart leapt in her chest and her breathing quickened. A heady exhilaration warred with doubt and apprehension. She wanted this, but she feared it too.
Andrew opened the box to reveal a sparkling diamond. “I’m done with pretending. I love you more than our families can possibly hate each other.”
“Oh , Drew,” she breathed. Her hand reached out as if to touch the ring, but hesitated.
“Say you’ll marry me.” Now it was his turn to hold his breath.
She shook her head. “I can’t. Not without father’s consent.”
Andrew snapped the box shut and put it in his pocket. “Then I will ask for your hand. If he gives his blessing...” He trailed off, a questioning look on his face.
“My joy would know no limits.” She smiled at him even as tears glistened in her eyes. Her father would never say yes and she knew it would be the end of them.
He leaned forward and kissed her with fierce intensity, his hand traveling up her back to cup her head. Mary yielded to him with a soft sigh. Andrew continued to kiss her, his lips insatiable and unbuttoned her blouse.
She made to protest but he shushed her. “It’s time for us, Mary. We can’t be denied any longer.”
Mary pulled away, clutching her blouse over her breasts. “I-I-I don’t know, Drew.”
“Can’t you feel how right it is for us?” He ran a thumb across her bottom lip which was swollen from his kisses. “Do you know how my heart ached for you in Europe?”
“No less than mine did for you,” she said earnestly.
“Then let your future husband soothe all your wounds.” He kissed her again and Mary made no protest, eagerly opening her mouth to receive his tongue.
Andrew pulled her blouse down her arms and cast it aside. Kissing her, he nudged her down to the blanket, where he unfastened her skirt and inched it over her hips. With some assistance from Mary, he removed her underclothes.
The summer breeze skimmed Mary’s breasts, tightening her nipples. With a soft growl, Andrew dipped his head and captured a sensitive tip in his mouth, laving it with his tongue until she gasped. He did the same with the other nipple and her breathing became ragged at the assault of sensation. Her hips spun
in small circles and an ache, more profound than any she’d ever felt, burned in her core. She needed him to do...something.
With a wolfish smile, he kissed his way down her stomach and snagged the elastic of her panties with his thumbs. In one swift movement, he yanked them down to her ankles and off her feet, tossing them to lay with the rest of her discarded clothing.
Mary reached for the buttons on his shirt, then, wanting to feel him skin-on-skin, without any barriers. She sat up and peeled off his shirt, pausing to kiss each strong shoulder. On an impulse, she leaned down to flick each of his small nipples in turn, delighted to hear the sharp intake of breath the action caused. Her hand wandered across his stomach, marveling at the ripple of muscles there and the way they jumped under her hand. She paused at his belt and looked up at him. He nodded, encouraging her, and, with a deep breath, she undid the buckle.
He stood after that and quickly kicked off his pants and the boxers underneath. Mary drank in the sight of him, eyes settling on the hard length between his legs. She licked her lips, nervous at what would come next.
Sensing her distress, he said, “It will be wonderful, Mary. I promise.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“You trust me, right?”
She nodded again. “With my life and soul.”
He kneeled, hands palming her breasts, thumbs caressing their tips. “I love you, Mary Holmes.”
“I love you, Andrew Smith.”
They kissed again, deeply and it seemed like more than their skin touched, as if their very essence melded together, fusing into one. He pushed her onto her back and once again kissed his way down her body, this time moving past her breasts and stomach to the nexus at her legs. Gently coaxing her thighs apart, he kissed her mound and parted her nether lips, peeling her open for his tongue.
Mary cried out as pleasure assailed her. It sparked where his tongue touched her and then spread in a hot wave up through her stomach to her breasts. Each wave became bigger than the last and she found herself sobbing as a spasming release crashed over her.
Before she could catch her breath, his hardness pressed at her wet entrance. “Try to relax for me, my love,” he said, his voice soft with tenderness. Little by little he won his way into her slick heat. When he was in as far as he could go, he stopped and kissed her until the uncomfortable stretching sensation of his penetration felt normal. Lips still locked with hers, he pumped in and out with small movements, giving her as much time as he could to accustom herself to his size.
Fifty Shades of Fantasy: Ghosts of Desire (paranormal erotica, ghost story, ghost romance, ghosts, ghost, ghost erotica, ghost sex, Halloween, Halloween stories, sexy Halloween, Halloween erotica) Page 1
