Ghostly Touch

by Smith, Jennifer

  “That explains it. So the stories of the women in your family all being witches aren’t true?”

  “Oh, no.” Zula drank more wine. “Those stories are all true.”

  Connor chuckled as he looked at her, not knowing if she was joking or not. “Hungry? Supper should be ready.”

  “Famished,” she replied and drained her glass as they got to their feet. “Oh my, I feel a little lightheaded. That’s some wine you’ve got there.”

  “It’s about forty proof, which is way above the legal limit on store bought wines, so go easy on it. I don’t want you getting drunk on me.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Zula said with a laugh and allowed him to lead her to the dining room.

  ~ Six ~

  A Warning

  His cock felt hard as steel and velvety soft when she straddled him and slid her pussy back and forth along the full length. Her hands splayed flat on his muscular chest for support. Her hair fell in dark, silky waves over both shoulders, swaying back and forth with her movements. His eyes never left hers, as she watched him watching her use him for her own pleasure. His fingers digging into the flesh of her hips felt good as each movement pushed and pulled her clit along his cock. The friction of skin against skin caused heat that rose into her abdomen and settled low, expanding with each thrust of her hips. The ball of heat grew and caused her blood to vibrate in her veins and her skin beaded with perspiration. She dug her nails deeper into his skin the closer she came to an orgasm. She could see his lips move, hear his voice urging her on, urging her to take, and she did. Her pussy slid faster and faster against his rigid dick and her breath came in short, hot gasps until the orgasm ripped through her. She bent forward from the force of the shock wave that gripped her, and buried her face in his chest as spasms continued to rock her. She felt his arms wrap around her, could hear his voice murmuring in her ear and finally, she collapsed on top of him trying to catch her breath.

  ~ * ~

  Zula woke up bright and early the next day and felt wonderful, the dream of passion still fresh in her mind and her body. She shut her eyes and covered her face with both hands for a moment before sitting up. Her whole purpose for casting the spell for a mate was to stop the dream sex, but her dream lover hadn’t gone anywhere. Of course, the fact that Connor had brought her home at nine o’clock the night before didn’t help matters at all.

  Dinner had been wonderful, and much to her surprise Connor was a very good cook. The wine had been excellent even if it went quickly to her head, and she thought the conversation had been great too. They talked and laughed over dinner and then had another glass of wine in the living room. She refused dessert, but Connor wolfed down two pieces of apple pie while they chatted. So when he’d looked at his watch and said he would take her home, she was taken aback. He kissed her lightly at her door, said good night and left her standing there with what she was sure could be described as a stunned look on her face.

  “He didn’t even ask to come inside, Thad. Can you believe it? I don’t know what to make of it. He was a perfect gentleman all night long. I would have let him kiss me just a little more than that peck at the door, but he didn’t even try.” Zula didn’t know whether to be upset by the lack of attention, or to be happy about his chivalrous attitude.

  “Great-grandmother Zula, you could’ve explained just a little more about that spell while you were here,” Zula said aloud while in the shower. Even if Connor wasn’t meant to be her soul mate, a real live playmate wouldn’t be a bad option right now. Zula sighed heavily as she wrapped her hair in a towel and then brushed her teeth.

  “Is it too much to ask to get laid by a real man?” She said in an exasperated tone, but neither Thaddeus nor great-grandma Zula replied.

  ~ * ~

  Zula’s garage had been converted to a workshop many years ago, and since she had taken over the place a few years ago, she converted the workshop into a holistic health store where she sold herbs she grew herself. She also sold handmade candles, as well as amulets and crystals, dream catchers and silver jewelry. As a licensed masseuse, she had a small area partitioned off in the back where her table was set up along with fragrant and medicinal oils, candles, and a tabletop waterfall set the mood for relaxation.

  With three massage appointments set for that morning, Zula would have a full day. Her garden provided most of herbs she needed during the year, but by late October, she had started new plants in the greenhouse. There was much work to be done in order to ensure she’d have plenty of herbs throughout the winter months.

  Zula opened the shop door, flipped the open sign around so it showed through the window, and then raised all the blinds. Weak November sunlight shone through and brightened the room as Zula went about getting ready for the first massage appointment. She put an Enya CD in the player and turned the sound low, and then put flannel sheets on the massage table and lit candles.

  “Oh!” Zula shrieked as she turned around, hands flying to her throat. “Great-grandma Zula! You scared the life out of me.”

  “Zula, I can’t stay long, but please be careful. There are more forces at work here than I knew.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Be careful my dear girl. Your life depends upon it,” great-grandmother Zula said. She reached out to touch Zula, but the hand passed through her and grandma Zula disappeared.

  Zula stared at the empty space, her mouth open and mind racing. “Grandmother?” She lifted one hand toward the spot where the image of her grandmother had been. The air still warm and Zula could feel the energy left by the older woman’s presence. “If you can hear me, please come back and tell me what you are talking about. I don’t understand.” But only Enya’s haunting voice floated through the room.

  Just then the door opened, causing the bell to ring and Zula jumped. She took a deep breath and blew it out. With a smile on her face, she went to greet her client. “Hello, Diane. How are you today?”

  “Wonderful,” the woman replied. “But I’ll be much better after this massage.”

  Zula smiled. “You go right on in and get undressed. I’ll be there in just a few minutes.” Zula watched as the woman disappeared behind the partition and then hung the, Back In An Hour sign in the window and locked the door. With one last look around the shop, she went to start her day.

  ~ Seven ~

  Pizza, Beer, & A Story

  After three massages and one body wrap, Zula’s day was finished. She pulled the door shut and checked the handle to make sure it was locked, then hurried up the walk to her house. Thaddeus greeted her with a loud meow as he wound his way between her legs.

  “Are you a hungry kitty?” Zula asked, lifting him to her shoulder and carrying him into the kitchen. He leaped from her arms to the counter, while Zula selected a can of tuna and opened it for him. “There you go, lover boy. Bon appetit! Now let’s see what I want for supper.”

  She opened the refrigerator and frowned. She hadn’t been to the market in nearly two weeks and there was little food left to choose from. “Yogurt it is,” she said and turned to get a spoon just as the phone rang.

  “Hello,” she said, lifting the lid from the yogurt container and dipping the spoon into the creamy contents.

  “Hi, this is Connor, how was your day?”

  Zula chuckled to herself at the way butterflies suddenly fluttered in her stomach. “It was great, Connor. How was yours?”

  “Not bad, but I was just looking in the fridge and decided I could either eat a cold meatloaf sandwich for supper, or, I could call you and see how you feel about pizza?”

  “Hmm, I feel pretty good about pizza,” she replied with a laugh.

  “Everything on it?”

  “As long as it doesn’t include anchovies.”

  “Not a problem,” Connor said. “How’s an hour sound?”

  “I’ll see you then.” Zula hung up the phone. She finished the yogurt, rinsed the container and lid and dropped both in the recycling bin. “All right, Thad,
you behave while I get ready. Mommy has company coming.”

  After a quick shower and fresh clothing, Zula blow dried her hair and went back downstairs. She made a salad with vegetables she had grown in the greenhouse and mixed up a vinaigrette dressing. She sliced a couple of homegrown beefsteak tomatoes onto a plate and drizzled olive oil and balsamic vinegar over them, and added a sprinkle of freshly cut basil. She set the table for two, finishing just as the doorbell sounded.

  “Connor, come in.”

  “I have one large pizza with everything and a six-pack of beer,” he said, entering the foyer.

  “I’ll take the beer,” she offered, and led him into the dining room.

  “Hey, looks great,” he said, setting the pizza down.

  “Thanks. Do you want a glass for the beer or…?”

  “I’m a straight from the bottle kinda guy.” He grinned and Zula handed him a bottle.

  “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll put the rest of these in the refrigerator.” She smiled and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Connor pulled out a chair and sat down, helping himself to a sliced tomato. “These are fresh,” he said through a mouthful when Zula came back to the table with a beer for herself.

  “I grow them,” she said and twisted off the bottle cap. She looked at the label on the bottle. “Where did you get this beer? I’ve never seen it here in town.”

  “I have a cousin in Northern California who works at a microbrewery out there. This is one of their specialties.”

  Zula tipped the bottle up and took a drink. The beer had a nice oat flavor to it, soft and mellow on the palette, with no after bite. “Mmm, this is really good. And for me to say that, you know it’s good because I’m not much of a beer drinker.”

  “Maybe that’s because you’ve never had real beer before,” Connor said with a crooked grin.

  “You may be right,” she agreed with a laugh. “Well, don’t just sit there, eat.” They laughed and talked as they ate and when they were finished, went into the living room.

  “I like the way this house feels,” Connor commented as he propped his feet up on the worn footstool. “It’s old and homey. Reminds me of my grandmother’s house.”

  “Thank you. Most of the furniture belonged to my grandmother. My mother did replace a few things over the years and added to what was here. I’ve left it basically the way it was while I was growing up.”

  Connor tipped the beer bottle to his lips and swallowed the last of the liquid. “Would you like another one?” Zula offered.

  “I’ll get it,” Connor said, coming to his feet. “No need for you to wait on me. You want another?”

  “Sure.” Zula nodded, and watched Connor push the swinging door open to the dining room. He seemed so relaxed and Zula liked that a lot. He was easy going and appeared to have a great sense of humor and healthy outlook on life, from what she could tell about him in the short time she’d known him, he was nearly perfect.

  “Here you go,” Connor said as he entered the room with two beers in one hand and another slice of pizza in the other.

  “Thank you.” Zula accepted the beer.

  “I would’ve brought you some pizza too, but you didn’t even finish your second slice so I figured you’re full.” He dropped onto the sofa and set his beer on a coaster on the coffee table. He took a large bite of pizza and washed it down with a drink of beer.

  “No, I’m full. Pizza is kind of heavy and I don’t eat heavy foods very often. I prefer to stick with lighter meals. Salads, grilled chicken, seafood, that sort of thing.”

  Connor nodded as he took another bite. “That all sounds good,” he paused and looked at Zula, “for an appetizer.”

  Zula couldn’t help but chuckle. “I think our habits are just a little different.”

  “They sure are. I’ve wanted to ask you something, so I hope I don’t offend you.”

  “I’m sure you won’t, but I reserve the right to refuse to answer.” Zula smiled.

  “Deal.” Connor sipped his beer. “I’ve heard all the stories about your grandmother and her mother before her, and I was wondering if there’s any truth to it?”

  Zula nodded her head slowly and took a drink of beer. “I was wondering how long it would take before you asked. And no, it doesn’t bother me at all to talk about them. I had nothing to do with any of it and what happened isn’t any more my fault than it is yours.”

  “I read the town history book down at the library. They really did hang, drown, and burn your great-grandmother at the stake, didn’t they?”

  Zula nodded. “They did. But there is more to the story. She was madly in love with this man, but he was much older and not exactly the type of man her parents wanted for her. Her father ran him off and found a different, more suitable man for my grandmother to wed. It wasn’t love, but she said he took good care of her.”

  Connor looked at her, and then laughed. “What do you mean ‘she said’?”

  Zula glanced away and took a breath. Then she tipped up her beer and took a long drink. Oops, she thought. “I just meant that it’s the story that’s been handed down in my family. Her father told her that the man had taken a hundred dollars in exchange for leaving for good. He was actually trying to sneak my great-grandmother away when her father and the local sheriff caught and killed him, and then dumped his body in the old mining shaft.”

  “That wasn’t in the book,” Connor said.

  “No, it wouldn’t be.” Zula took a deep breath and wondered if she should go ahead and tell him about his great-grandfather. On one hand, if she told him now he might get upset enough to leave. But if she told him at some future date, he might be even more upset and leave. She blew out another breath and turned toward Connor. “The story goes that the man who was in love with my great-grandmother was named Connor.”

  Connor laughed out loud. “That’s funny.”

  Zula smiled. “It gets funnier.

  “Really? I can’t wait to hear it.”

  Zula took a deep breath and told him the story her great-grandmother told her. She left out the part about him being her soul mate. A little at a time, Zula thought.

  Connor stared at her for a few moments when she finished the tale. He took a long pull off the beer in his hand, then said, “I’ll be damned. That’s a pretty wild story, isn’t it?”

  “Pretty wild,” Zula agreed.

  Connor checked his watch, and swallowed the last of his beer. “I’ve got an early morning, so I’ll say goodnight.”

  Zula stood with him and followed him to the front door. “Thank you for the pizza and the company.”

  “No problem,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.” He left her standing in the doorway without trying to kiss her goodnight.

  ~ Eight ~

  Preferably, A Real Man

  “What do you make of that, Thad?” The cat rubbed his head against Zula’s face as she carried him up the stairs to her room and dropped him on the bed. Zula went into the bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth, then climbed into bed. “Goodnight, Thad.”

  ~ * ~

  His hands slid slowly up her legs, his thumbs massaging her as he went. When he reached the top of her thighs, his fingers splayed wide, his thumbs moving in small, slow circles coming ever closer to her pussy. Stopping just at the outside of her opening, massaging her in the most private of places in the most sensual way. Her hips began to move in rhythm with his hands.

  Her hands moved over her own body, slowly moving across her stomach, over her breasts and back down. Slowly massaging her stomach, moving lower to her thighs until her hands met his. Spreading her hands over his, she let the sensations wash through her like warm oil. Every nerve ending attune to his movements, reaching out to him, calling to him from some secret place yet unexplored.

  His thumbs continued to move in slow, sensuous circles coming closer to dipping inside of her with each motion. His forefingers moved to either side of her clit, not touching her there, yet moving her closer and
closer to orgasm. Then he added his breath, a simple, cool breath blown over her clit. She felt the electricity gather from the souls of her feet, travel up her legs, pooled in her belly, and then she exploded.

  Zula sat upright in bed, breathless, her body still vibrating from the orgasm. She wiped her face with her hands and blew out a breath.

  “What was that?” She shook her head, threw back the blankets and slid out of bed. “Whew! If Connor is anything like his grandfather…”

  In the bathroom, Zula splashed cool water on her face, grabbed a hand towel and dried. She went back into her room, glanced at the clock, and saw that it was nearly six. “May as well get ready for the day. Come on Thad, time to get up.”

  ~ * ~

  Connor came awake, confused by the dream he’d just had. Was it a dream? He wondered. Or was it something more? This wasn’t the first time he’d woken up from an all-too-real-dream about Zula.

  He flung the covers back and looked down, his boxers showing the evidence of just how real the dream was. Muttering under his breath, Connor went to the bathroom and took a shower.

  The dream flashed through his mind as the water poured over him. He just couldn’t figure out how a dream could seem so real, could feel so real that he actually ejaculated in his sleep. That hadn’t happened since he was a teen.

  But here he was, a grown man having wet dreams.

  Zula’s story about her ancestor and his knowing one another was definitely strange, but his ancestor Connor was completely unknown to him. He didn’t believe in reincarnation any more than he believed in witches, ghosts and goblins.

  The story was simply a local legend and had nothing to do with him today, or with his nighttime dreams and emissions.

  Connor toweled off, put on deodorant and got dressed. He had a septic tank to dig up in less than thirty minutes.