Spirits of Love
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Fiction, Ghost, Small Breasts,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The Spirits In Love Universe Love is a powerful thing. Men and women have died to save someone they love. No greater love has a man... This is a love story, or rather it started off as a love story and then it turned into a tragedy, and then it turned into another love story and then it just kind of went nuts. I hope you enjoy it and if all goes well, this will be the start of a whole new universe that some of you are welcome to contribute to. Mick2016
Sharon and I met in Junior High School in 1963 at the ages of 12 years old. She was a petite, no wait, petite might be too big. She was a tiny, skinny, boney, olive skinned, Italian girl with the face of an angel. At five foot three inches tall if she weighed 80 pound, she would have to be fully clothed and soaking wet.
I was a giant 12 year old at six feet tall and a massive 90 pounds. For the times I had long hair, almost three inches at its longest point. I was a typical kid of the times except that my voice had changed and I was now a full baritone. The folks in the music department loved it because they now had a bottom voice in the choir.
Sharon played violin in the orchestra and the pit orchestra when the school put on musicals. That was when we first noticed each other. She being the only person in the whole school that was skinnier than myself. My approach to getting to know her was fairly typical for guys my age. I ran away from her until she caught me.
I was terribly shy due to my voice and my height. To say I stood out in a crowd was an understatement unless you meant in personality. I stood a full half a foot taller than any other male in my school but the joke was that if I turned sideways and stuck out my tongue, I would look like a zipper!
Sharon finally cornered me one day, literally. I was in a corner and could not get away. She talked to me and my life passed before my eyes. She had a soft and lyrical voice. Her eyes were a bright brown and at five foot three inches tall her hair was four feet long. It was also brown and shiny.
“Mick are you alright?”
“Mick. I have heard you speak. I know you can.”
She reached down and took my hand and looked way up into my hazel eyes and gave my hand a squeeze and a soft pat with the other.
“It’s ok. I do not bite or kick.”
“I’m sorry. I just don’t talk to many girls.”
“Makes it tough at home with your mom, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. You know, home. The place you live. With your mom. And your brother.”
“Yeah, I know home.”
“Anyway, I just wanted to meet you and let you know that I love your voice and now that I think about it, how do you get on stage in front of an audience and sing, but you can’t talk to one girl?”
“I guess I have never had a problem talking or signing in front of a group of people. They are all out there.” I gestured with my arm in a sweeping motion. “I am up here safe from them.” I gestured to the stage.
And that is how we started. Over the course of Junior High we went to a couple of dances. Her parents would not let her date and my family was so poor that I could not have asked her out if I wanted to. Due to the school system we were in I had started school, kindergarten, in January because my birthday was after the start of the school semester in September.
So my first semester went from January to the end of May and the second semester went from September to December. Sharon was promoted from Junior High to Senior High at the end of her ninth grade year in May. I however had to come back to Junior High for the second semester after summer vacation.
When I got to High School after Christmas break, Sharon was there waiting for me. I still had no money and her parents did not allow her to date, but we both ended up working in the school bookstore prior to classes and during lunch each day. We grew closer. We did go out to Homecoming and I took her to our Senior Prom.
When she graduated in May we spent a lot of time together during the summer before I went back to my last semester and she went off to Arizona State University. We wrote, but over time we grew apart and during the summer of her sophomore year, she got married. I was invited to the wedding and went and cried silently to see my true love married to some long haired guy that just did not feel like a good guy.
I moved on and finished college and moved into my planned profession. A year after I graduated I was living in St Louis when I got a letter from Sharon. It was a general letter with general stuff, until I got to the part about how she was divorced. It turned out that the guy she married drank, was physically abusive and in the end was a criminal. She got divorced and moved back in with her parents in the Chicago area.
We began to write and call on a regular basis and after about a year, I took the train from St Louis to Chicago and then rented a car and drove to her parents’ home. They were actually very happy to see me. I spent a week there and at the end of it Sharon and I had agreed that we needed to be together. I went back home with the promise in my heart.
I began saving up every penny I could find and bought a small wedding set and in December I had the most wonderful/horrible week of my life, to that point. Get this. On December 23rd my best friend in St Louis had his bachelor party. His brother was in the St Louis County Police Vice Squad. He supplied all of the “entertainment”. I did a lot of drinking but I did not avail myself of the working girls.
On the morning of December 24th my friend’s poured me onto the AmTrak train to Chicago. I slept the entire way and upon disembarking from the train, I walked into the terminal and split my future mother and father-in-laws like a goal post. I was so hung over I did not even recognize them until they yelled at me.
On December 25th, my future in laws held a huge Christmas feast. They are Italian so there was lots of pasta and lots of wine. I got hammered again. December 26th was a recovery day. December 27th was our wedding. It was Italian. There was a lot of wine and so on again and although I consummated our union that night, I don’t remember much of it. December 28th was a recovery day.
December 29th was my birthday and my new brother-in-law took me out on the town. December 30th was a recovery day. December 31st. Well you can guess. January 1st was a recovery day and on the morning of January 2nd Sharon and I drove back to St Louis to start our life.
I had done my best to be a good husband, but the timing of the special dates just messed up our first week together. Sharon was starting to think that I was as bad a drinker as her ex. I finally had to tell her that prior to that past week, I had had exactly four beers as my accumulative drinking experience.
We had tried to make love on our wedding night, but I was so hammered that it was not very good. On the following morning, I was so hung over that I could still not perform, even during a wonderful shower with my wife. Each and every day became a recovery from the previous night that completely messed up our real sexual bonding.
We got to St Louis in one piece, in spite of a bit of an ice storm and set up our home in my apartment. We loved each other and I made up for the crazy wedding week by being a tender and attentive lover. It seemed that we would never just fuck. Everything was draped with the mantle of love.
Sharon had small breasts with always hard dark brown nipples. I could take each one completely into my mouth and once gave her a hickie that a lmost encompassed the entire breast. I could almost hold her ass in one of my hands. But the crowning glory of Sharon’s body was her pussy. Her pubic hair was dark brown and wispy. It was almost as straight as the same colored hair on her head. So whenever she walked around the house naked, which was always, it was easy to see the beauty of her womanhood. Her outer labia were full and puffy, but the inner labia extended out about an inch. The flesh of them was a deep brown and thick.
When wet they glistened easily through the thin pubic hair and when spread they opened to the brightest pink I have ever seen. When fully spread her butterfly was a brilliantly contrast in brown and pink. There was never a doubt when she was aroused. The signs were visual and sensual. Her scent was glorious and it could draw me to her from another room.
I am not hung like a horse, but I filled her. She enjoyed having me in her mouth. She love stroking me and playing with my testicles. She had a few tells that signaled that she was ready to make love. My favorite was when she would sit in her grandmother’s rocking chair with her feet on the seat and her knees tight to her chest. Her pussy would swell and open until it would look like a wonderful pink bullseye to my cupids’ arrow.
She would walk by me and just let her hand glide along the skin of my ass. She did that, whether I was dressed or not. It was always an issue for me to remain unaroused when she did that in the grocery store. We made love in every room of our apartment and on every piece of furniture and on every appliance. I almost made a bad mistake with the vacuum cleaner hose one time.
My goal was to also be a good breadwinner. I worked hard at my profession and had great success. Sharon worked as well and we lived cheaply. Our savings grew quickly and life was looking good. Around the end of our first year Sharon and I had saved enough money that we were getting very close to being able to put a good down payment on a house. Both of us were good people and good workers and we both were promoted and were making a great living.
On our first year anniversary I made reservations at one of the very nice Italian restaurants in The Hill area of St Louis. We got home from work, made love, showered, made love, showered, got dressed and headed out for dinner. I ordered lasagna and Sharon ordered ravioli. We each had a glass of Chianti and a cannoli for dessert. We were walking out the car, we planned to go somewhere and making out in the car for a bit before going home and destroying one another, when we heard the noise and felt the burning pain and we died.