“Yes, I thought Orlando might be too expensive for a young couple. There’s a house a few miles from here that has been on the market for two years, so the price has dropped below the comps. It’s in great shape, move-in-ready, fully furnished, and affordable. I have to disclose that three people died in it, parents and their 20-year-old son. The leaking heater has been replaced. People say it’s haunted by their umm, friendly ghosts. If you don’t believe in that, it’s a steal. What do you think?”

“Well, for the fourth time, Betty, we are not a couple. Bob is someone I just met two weeks ago. He has a good head for numbers and has owned a few houses, while I’m looking to buy my first house. At forty-two, he’s also twice my age and is merely my advisor. Is it worth looking at, Bob?”

“Yes, Barb, it is. You know ghosts are a delusion, so this may be an easy entry into the market for you. Anyway, it can’t hurt to look. Oh, and thanks so much for the age reminder.” He smiled.

Betty added, “Well, you two seem so comfortable with each other and look so good together, you may have to remind me again.” She ran a finger under Bob’s chin. Wait! I’m the one supposed to be flirting. A friend told me my camel toe was especially obvious when I didn’t wear panties, so I went commando today. I’d hoped for a hot and horny realtor so I could tempt him into a sweeter deal, but I got Betty instead. She’s nearly forty also, but pretty and shapely enough, so I may take her on if I feel the need.

Betty interrupted my reverie, “Let’s head out and I’ll fill you in on a few details. People say there are ghosts stuck at different stages. Some pass quickly into the light; some can’t pass until their obsession is handled; some choose to stay behind for psychotic reasons — the evil ones. The ghosts in this gated community home have apparently chosen to stay behind to monitor their cherished home and perhaps choose the best suited candidates to care for it and their memories before they go beyond. Witnesses say they are umm, quite friendly, but not beyond pranks. They have scared off several prospects. This home is extra special to me.” Her eyes drifted to a far away look.

Bob winked and smiled at the prospect as he once again scanned me from head to calves as we climbed into Betty’s front bench seat. My tight and tiny yellow track shorts exposed my toned legs at their best. Perhaps my tiny shorts reveal part of my pussy when I bend over. OK, I know they do, so I climbed in ass high. I love the tease. Though it does a great job of minimizing my huge tits, every boob man drools over my hard and thick nipples making their marks against my grey sports bra. I love the attention. If the realtor didn’t notice the heavy breathing and desire in Bob’s eyes, I sure did. It made me a little uncomfortable, but it also felt good for a mature man to want me.

Once settled into the bright yellow car, Bob and I took our eyes off my legs, exposed to my hips, and his tented swelling to stare wide-eyed and silent at each other. We wondered what ghostly situation we were getting into. I returned to staring at his pulsing shorts, expecting his horse to leave the stable and gallop down his leg since he was so fixated on my camel toe. I spread my knees a little more. I can be such a tease.

Betty continued, “While some ghosts are completely invisible and can’t move anything, John, Jen and their son Joe Greene, make waves as they move and are translucent but visible when they stop. Sometimes, those waves are audible. They have also refined their ability to move, umm, selective things accurately when they focus on them. They are known to make tapping noises which may be morse code. The first couple who moved in kept finding their pantry items stacked neatly on their table then cans stacked across the kitchen entry. Any time they moved furnishing around, the next morning they were back where the Greenes had placed them. When the new owners caught the wavy images of three naked, translucent people on camera, they moved out abruptly. See? Just harmless pranks — so they say. Though the new owners did abandon the house and allow the bank to foreclose and drive the price down to your advantage.”

Bob was nearly drooling, but listening to her. She stole frequent, prolonged glances at his obvious erection. I was greatly tempted to take his horse for a ride. He stammered, “Is there anything we need to know before we get there?”

“Umm. No. Not before. But the community has some special rules I’m sure you can handle.” She glanced at my groin then his again. The wide zipper, which ran all the way down Betty’s dark blue dress, was open much lower than when we got into her car — nearly to her nipple line. I noticed she was breathing deeply and, with her hand inside her dress, she was subtly pinching her left nipple as she drove. Her eyes closed and she drove over the center line twice before I could get her attention. What was going on? We pulled up to the gate and as Betty spoke to the guard, I noticed a sign that read “NO textiles allowed at any time after entering Gold Rays Community”

“You’re here for the Greene house again, Betty? Go on through. You know our rules.”

“I don’t know their rules,” I said. “I saw the ‘No textiles’ sign as we entered. What does that mean?” Betty smiled and told us she would explain all that after we viewed the home so the rules wouldn’t influence us. The beautiful house was a big Colonial, fairly new and in great shape. After looking out at the huge back yard and modesty fencing, we gathered at the big kitchen island and discussed how impressed we were with it all. That’s when it began.

Betty’s wide zipper lifted and began to slowly slide itself down lower and lower — past her navel, past her groin, to her knees — until the dress split completely open. Betty stood absolutely still, unfazed, as the dress lifted off her shoulders and then fell to the floor, leaving her stark naked except for her shoes. What an impressive, shapely body she was hiding! “See? Pranks,” she said calmly as she smiled and stared at Bob’s tented shorts. “Hello, Joe. ‘Textiles’ means clothes and they are forbidden in this nudist community. Now that you love the house, you can discuss if you can handle the rules.”

Before I could close my mouth to speak, a wavy form — a naked young man perhaps — moved away from Betty and stood in front of me. His smile wavered for a second and I felt someone else tug my shorts down my legs. An older, wavy man lifted my leg and slipped my foot out. The young man cupped my exposed, waxed pussy with his chilly hand then slid two cold fingers into me. He kept them in me as his dad slid my shorts off my other foot. I was frozen in shock. Bob’s cock stiffened and slipped out from his tented shorts. He left it exposed as the son pushed my sports bra up. When my big tits fell out, he cupped them and pinched a nipple. It immediately twisted into a tall, hard nubbin, at least partially due to the icy touch. Bob and Betty were shocked by their size. Betty pressed her bush against my ass, pushed my arms up and moved the bra along them until it was free, and dropped it onto my shorts. With two of us abruptly naked, Bob surged and nearly popped. Yes, I would like to ride that horse!

Just seconds later, a wavy, naked female circled Bob. She grabbed his stiff cock and squeezed. “Brrrr, that’s effing cold!”he shouted. I knew exactly what he meant. Ghostly mom, Jen, smiled as he reached for both her translucent pussy and tits. He merely dispersed her waves when he pushed through her. Yet she pushed his shorts to the floor and cupped his shrinking balls as Betty removed his shirt. Jen began jerking Bob slowly and he began thrusting his hips against her porous, chilly hand. Betty smiled.