Ghost Girl Ranch
Copyright© 2026 by Sonarflash2026
Chapter 5
Supernatural Sex Story: Chapter 5 - A tale of a ghostly visitation, paranormal rescue, romance, sex and healing. A severely damaged Afghan vet, Daniel has purchased a foreclosed ranch in Montana, hoping to retire in seclusion. As the old ranch house is being renovated, he experiences hints of ghostly activity. A few months on, he also gets into a bar fight in the nearby town, becoming the murderous focus of a psycho county deputy.
Caution: This Supernatural Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Fiction Paranormal Ghost Magic
After a few minutes, I slowed at an intersection, turning onto a secondary gravel road, this one narrow, snaking Northwest, into foothills, mountains and my newly acquired ranch. Despite the weekend rainstorm, dust roiled up behind, the scenery already looking parched. I said nothing, processing and digesting everything. Finally, curiosity won out.
“I’ve actually got an aura?”
:Almost blinding,: she agreed.:Pretty gold around the fringes. You’re special. You taste better than maple syrup and your aura just keeps giving.:
“Maple syrup?” I chuckled, shaking my head. “So, I’m Special? Me?” I said dubiously, then asked, “are you tapping into me right now?” I spared a glance at her, then back to the narrow gravel road. She answered with a nod. I protested. “But, I’m not feeling anything, though that first touch was real cold.”
:I know.: She gave a tinkling, delicate laugh.:You’re exceptional that way. A kind of psychic power plant. You’ve got major mojo. It just keeps giving. I think you’ve become some kind of interdimensional portal. Somehow, when I’m really near, there’s a reaction. Some kind of resonance with this vast reservoir of power you radiate. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced over the past fifteen years.:
“Maybe it’s the plate in my skull,” I wondered, her statement making me furrow brows. I tried to grasp a concept that likely was beyond my intellect, though I considered possibilities. “Alternate dimensional energy? The multiverse? Quantum physics?” Theories and metaphysical possibilities teased my imagination. At least, for the moment, that distracted me from worries about my sanity.
Like most people, I wanted to believe in things metaphysical, and I’d read books about spiritualism, even novels about the paranormal. Most of it is a lot of confusion. Many authoritative books on the supernatural were outright trash, intended to separate the gullible from their cash.
I struggled with ghost girl’s silent words, thinking, “except for the past month, I never felt gifted, let alone spiritual. I huffed, thinking, any psychic ability hadn’t been working when that Taliban IED ended my second tour of duty.”
:Wrong!: her thought snapped, head shaking, tossing her ponytail.:You were psychic even then. you sensed danger and slowed your Hum-V, then slammed on the brakes and slewed to the right. Blast only partially caught your left side and nobody else was seriously hurt. Otherwise, all of you would have been blown to bits.:
I sucked a breath. With dawning realization, I knew she was right. A chill shiver ran up my spine. “Did you just pull that out of my memory?” I asked, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable. “Is there anything about me you don’t know?”
:A bit of both,: she replied, admitting, :I’ve peeked into your memories and dreams. I’ve also looked through your service records.:
“Nosey kid,” I said without conviction.
:Kid?: She giggled, the sound in my head evocative and ethereal.:Chronologically, I’m almost thirty-two. Technically, it seems getting killed at seventeen keeps my ghost in this shape. if you rather, I can try to make myself look real old and wrinkled.:
“That’s okay,” I said, shooting her a sidelong grin. “if you’re planning on haunting me, I’d rather have the eye candy.”
Those large, emerald eyes widened and seemed to glow, arching provocatively, once again giving her the appearance of a satisfied feline.
:You find me attractive?:
“Very attractive,” I said, taking in all of her with another quick glance. “fifteen years isn’t all that long ago. Twenty-two years and I’m still not over Afghanistan. You, on the other hand, seem to have adjusted to death nicely. Has it been hard on you?”:Hard?: she said, considering, then twisting to face me, cocking that lovely head, saying,, :at first, yes. It was traumatic and difficult for a few months real time. I’m doing fine now. I was hurting because my parents experienced so much grief. Mom was forty-two and dad sixty when I was born. They had given up hope of ever having a child, so they doted on me, but I wasn’t spoiled. Had plenty of ranch chores. They made certain I finished my homework and studied. Come harvest, I worked as hard as the hired hands. When I disappeared, it near destroyed them. mom went into a serious depression. Back then, I couldn’t manifest or help her. A year after, my dad had a massive heart attack and died. Eventually, mom couldn’t function, so authorities had her placed in a care facility. She died eight years ago.:
“Worse than rough,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
:I’m not sorry or sad any more, but thank you, Daniel,: she said, gracing me with a sad smile.:I was able to be there for them. I was with both my parents when they passed over. By then, I was starting to get my act together. greeted their spirits. Helped both of them pass on ... I suppose into that light. There is something to the belief in a higher realm, though I haven’t been there to check it out. Might be there are many different planes or dimensions. Since getting back here might prove impossible, I haven’t been interested in finding out. So, here I remain.: She gave a shrug.:I was good at science, but I’m no scientist.: A glint came into her eyes.:When his spirit understood what happened to me, dad wanted to stay and do something to Haskins. I had to promise him I’d eventually deal with the bastard. I knew that my dad’s spirit didn’t have the right kind of power. At least both of them got to see me and found closure.:
“I suppose that’s important,” I said. “Does that make you a kind of restless spirit? Should I ‘discover’ your remains and give you a decent burial?”
Her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug.:Maybe, when the time is right.: Her hand gave an airy wave.:Doesn’t really matter to me right this moment ... now that you’re here, I’m looking forward to having some fun.:
The sun was westering, shining full on my ghostly passenger. She didn’t look like any spirit conjured by Hollywood and I noticed that she was no longer translucent. Bright daylight wasn’t passing through her. though only a little animated, she was managing to show expressions. She remained substantial. Extremely attractive, she was also more than a bit distracting. My glances kept drifting down to the provocative swell of full, very shapely breasts, the view enhanced by a clinging, worn denim shirt.
:You keep staring at my girls,: she commented, grinning, actually showing the hint of a blush through a dusky tan.:Watch the road, or you might end up adding to the local ghost population.:
I felt my cheeks go hot. She giggled. “You joke about being a ghost,” I commented, jerking my eyes left, straightening out the Expedition, absently noting a billowing plume of dust. “you sure don’t look or act like any ghost I ever heard of. Like I could reach out and touch you.” Even as I gave that voice, she melted away, leaving a faint shimmer in the passenger seat. “Hey, I won’t do that! Please don’t leave!” I switched attention between that shimmer and the gravel road, slowing again, wondering if I’d upset her. Somehow, inexplicably, her abrupt departure jolted me to the core.
:I’m still here,: she told me.: I’m a ghost. Saying it doesn’t upset me. I vanished because there’s a truck coming this way. He’s going like a bat out of hell.: Only then did I realize what was causing that column of dust. Forewarned, I eased well over onto the right shoulder, braking, careful to avoid a few large boulders, dipping into what passed for a shallow ditch. I’d already learned that some local ranchers drove as though these narrow back roads were their own private racetrack. Once, I’d almost been clipped on a curve when the tail end of a pickup slewed into my lane at fifty or sixty miles per hour. A big truck rapidly expanded. The teenage driver slowed, but too late. Easily doing sixty, he flew past. Loaded with baled alfalfa, the five ton with dual wheels showered my Expedition with gravel. Half a dozen rocks pitted my windshield. A large one created a spiderweb of cracks across the driver’s side. I cursed. My ghostly companion reappeared. This time, her pink tongue made an audible click of annoyance, examining the damaged safety glass.
“Sorry, but I thought it best I not be visible,” she all but growled, a delightful voice accompanying a telepathic echo. “That was Fred driving. Charlie Wind eagle’s eighteen-year-old. Eddie, the younger brother is fourteen. Charlie won’t be happy when we send him the bill for a new windshield!”
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