The worms crawl in. The worms crawl out. The worms play pinochle on my snout.
Well, I assume they do. I'm dead, I wouldn't really know — you know? Actually, I'm a ghost. I thought about peeking in on my body, but decided it was just a bit too morbid and creepy. Pretty strange, coming from a ghost, don't you think?
How did I die? You might ask. Then again, you might not. It doesn't really matter, because I'm going to tell you anyway.
I was a geek when I was alive. I graduated high school with honors and my virginity. I left college with a degree and my virginity.
I had plenty of money from my job after college, but I still couldn't get in a girl's pants unless I stole them off the clothesline. After a marathon weekend of watching downloaded porn, I summoned up the nerve to go looking for a prostitute. Unfortunately, my nerve deserted me as soon as I reached the disreputable part of town where the scantily clad ladies of the evening awaited on every corner. I went around the block about twelve times before I finally pulled over to beat my head on the steering wheel.
I nearly pissed myself when someone tapped on my window. I looked over to see a painted lady with huge boobs staring into my window and smiling. "Hey, you look lonely," I heard her say through the glass.
I don't know whether I said anything, or did anything. I can't remember. She just laughed and pantomimed rolling down my car window. I hit the button, nodding my head, and her perfume hit me like a wall the moment the window cracked.
"You've been around the block a few times, Honey. I thought maybe you were a little shy. Want me to take you around the block a couple times?"
"I, uhm... The block?"
"Something tells me you're not a cop, Sweetie. Do you want to go back to my place and get a better look at my boobs? You can't seem to take your eyes off them."
When I started to stammer again, she chuckled and said, "Just nod your head — yes or no."
I probably looked like the Bobblehead Einstein on my dashboard.
Everything from then until I walked into her hotel room is a blur. All I can remember is her stroking my leg and the smell of her perfume, which was thick enough to walk on.
As soon as she closed the door, she quoted me a price that I don't remember, which I paid with trembling hands. As soon as she put the money away, she pulled off her tube top and skirt. For the first time in my life, I saw a real, live, naked woman up close.
She walked over to me and then walked backwards, tugging me along behind her. "Are you a virgin, Honey?"
I nodded, barely changing the motion my head was already making as my eyes roamed over her body.
"That's okay, Honey. I'll show you how it's done." She pulled off my shirt then, quickly following that with unbuttoning my pants.
Her eyes widened when she dropped my pants and she let out a surprised little snort. "Wasn't expecting that. You're a big boy, and I get to be your first. I'll ruin you for everyone else." She then sat down and said, "What are you waiting for?"
As she scooted toward the head of the bed, spreading her legs as soon as she reached her pillow, I disentangled my legs from my pants and shoes, almost stumbling into the bed with her.
After a few tugs and spoken directions, she managed to get me into position between her legs. My cock was within inches of a real pussy, and my heart was racing like an engine about to blow.
Blow, it did. I bet the look on her face would have been priceless. Unfortunately, I was already dead by this point — joined the choir invisible before I even managed to touch her.
The next thing I remember, I was hovering around my grave. There's nothing like looking down to see your name on a headstone, freshly turned earth, and a bunch of sweaty guys tearing down the tent overhead. I didn't even get to see my funeral.
I wandered around pretty aimlessly for a while, and then went back to my apartment. The place was already empty, with an army of people cleaning up. My next stop was Mom's house, but I could hear her crying before I even made it to the porch. I couldn't bear to see her like that, and it was my fault she was crying, so I left.
I just wandered around until it started getting dark, lost in thought. I didn't even believe in ghosts, and now I was one. If I wasn't already dead, I probably would have died when a kid dressed as Darth Vader ran right through me. I looked around and realized that the sidewalks were filled with kids in costumes.
That made me wonder if Halloween had something to do with why I was still here. I know ghosts are supposed to have unfinished business, but I could hardly finish the only business I had in my intangible state. Dead — and still a virgin.
The sight of two girls dressed as a naughty nurse and a she-devil caught my eye when they climbed out of a cab and walked into a building. It was only when Mr. Happy stood up for a look around that I realized I wasn't just a ghost, I was a naked ghost.
I hurried to the crosswalk, my eyes locked on the twin sexy backsides, and cursed the don't walk signal.
A few seconds later, I remembered I was dead. Stepping out into traffic was more than a little frightening at first, but when the first car buzzed right through me, I actually laughed. Walking right through anything in my way, I hurried after the two hot girls that had entered the apartment.
The women who had caught my eye weren't the only hot girls at the party, and I felt like my eyes were about to pop out of my head. Everywhere I looked, there were half-naked witches, princesses showing huge amounts of cleavage, and Playboy bunnies. The guys were dressed up too, but damned if I looked at any of them.
When one of the bunnies walked toward me, I intersected her path and ducked down so that her well-displayed breasts went right through my face. As soon as she passed through me, she covered her tits and shivered, looking around in confusion. I reached down as if to squeeze her butt, and she immediately slapped a hand over her ass right where my intangible hand rested.
Can she feel that? I wondered. As she turned to look behind her, I grabbed her tits. This time, I actually felt hot female skin beneath my fingertips for a fraction of a second.
The bunny stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with fright. She hurried out of the room with one arm covering her tits and a hand across her hot behind. Now curious beyond belief, I looked around until I found the she-devil I'd followed into the costume party.
Walking up behind her, I reached down and slapped her ass. She turned to look over her shoulder and hissed, "Stop that."
The guy she'd spoken to raised his hands defensively and asked, "Stop what?"
I kept trying, walking up to every hot girl in the room, groping at will. I never felt more than a partial sensation of touch, but it was still a hell of a lot more than I'd ever felt when I was alive. I got a couple of good looks in the bathroom, but I got tired of walking back through the wall every time a guy came in. Passing back through the bathroom wall into a solid cloud of stink let me know that I could sort of smell things in my intangible state too, and turned me off the whole bathroom idea all together.
After about an hour, every woman in the place was ready to leave — story of my life. I could clear the room of hot women faster than a fire drill. As the scantily clad women left in droves, I sadly drifted through the building, exploring apartments.
I quickly discovered that people felt cold whenever I was around, and that I messed up electronics. Televisions would fuzz up whenever I passed too close, and computers would crash. I made a mental note to go to my office and screw up a couple of asshole's computers the next morning.
When I drifted into one apartment, I heard the familiar sound of porn coming from a bedroom. I walked over to the wall and cautiously peeked through, praying I wouldn't see some guy wrestling with cyclops on the other side.
I smiled when I cracked open one eye and saw a woman lying nude on the bed. She wasn't as hot as the girls from the party, but she was pretty, had nice tits, and she was masturbating. I was through the wall and next to the bed almost before I could form the thought. I made another little mental note that I could move ridiculously fast if I wanted to — as if it mattered. What does a ghost need to run from? It's not as if I was going to run into the Ghostbusters aiming proton streams at me.
The whole concept of those proton streams is scientifically unsound anyway.
I leaned right in to get a good look at her pussy. Most of the women in porn are shaved, and that made looking at her hairy pussy more exciting. It wasn't like she had a carpet between her legs, but she had little dark curls all around.
All I had smelled with the prostitute was her perfume, but with my face almost up against it, I picked up just the faintest hint of something musky coming from this woman's pussy. It was a kind of strong, almost off-putting, but intoxicating in a way.
I remember how hard my dick was, throbbing painfully as I watched the woman play with her pussy. She slowly rubbed her fingers over it — up, down, and in little circles. She let out little moans and writhed on the bed, and I decided it was a lot more exciting than the girls in porn screaming and thrashing. She did let out one loud gasp when she put two fingers up at the top of her pussy and pulled, exposing what I deduced was her clit to the wet fingers of her other hand.
.... There is more of this story ...