Chapter 6: The Locker Room

edited by Master Ken

Monday, September 16th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

I stood at the scene of my very first crime—the girls locker room at Boone High School. When I was nineteen, I worked as a janitor at this very educational establishment. Being a voyeuristic horndog, I quickly figured out where to drill a small hole to let me peep on the fine, young things changing and showering and carrying on.

It was the best month of my life. At least, before I made my Pact to become invisible at will, it was.

The three years I spent in prison when I got caught were the worst years of my life.

But that was the past. Soon nubile, sweet, innocent, beautiful teenage girls would be filling this locker room, stripping off their clothes, showering and soaping their youthful charms, and I would be standing in the middle of it. My pecker was as hard as a concrete slab, throbbing painfully. I resisted touching it, waiting for the true show to begin.

A bell rang, and the girls started filtering in, talking like a flock of songbirds, chirping all the meaningless stuff of their lives. "You'll never guess..." and "Oh, my god..." and "That slut..." filled the room. I didn't pay their words any mind. Shirts came off, exposing their bras: plain, white bras; frilly bras; cute bras, complete with little bows; racy bras that pushed up youthful tits. Some girls boldly took off their bras, not caring if their classmates could see their perky flesh before they put on their sports bras or tank top bras, while others were shy, hunching their shoulders to protect their modesty.

I was in heaven, staring at panty-clad asses as girls bent over to pull on gym shorts. My hands reached out, giving plump butts a squeeze, groping a pair of budding breasts, or feeling sleek thighs. Girls would shriek, looking around confused as they saw nothing.

"It's the Ghost," giggled a girl, finally realizing what was up as I gave her ass a squeeze.

"Ohh," another girl said with excitement. "The cheerleaders are all sluts for the Ghost. I've seen them disappearin' behind the bleachers."

"I know a girl that boasts 'bout the Ghost visitin' her bed at night. She says the Ghost makes her cum better than any boy at our school."

"That's nasty," another girl giggled.

"Let's get goin', girls," a man yelled from the entrance of the locker room. "Get your butts out of there, or I'll have you runnin' laps all period."

"We gotta go, Ghost. Don't wanna have Coach Windbag makin' us run."

And they were gone, the few minutes I had with them over, my cock still hard. I should've just started fucking one right away. I laid down on the bench, waiting for their gym class to be over. One girl had caught my eye—shy, with braces. I didn't get a good luck at her titties as she hid in the corner. But they're gonna have to shower when they get back, and I bet I could have bit of fun with Miss Braces.

My thoughts were full of the black-haired freshman smiling at me, her braces glinting silver on her teeth, making her seem even more innocent. I just want to feel her tight cooch envelop my pecker, and shoot my cum inside her. I bet she's never even been fucked before.

"You still here, Ghost?" a girl asked.

"Course I am, sweetness," I answered in my best ghost impression.

The sweaty girls were filing in, giggling and looking around. Miss Braces looked at the ground, quickly heading for her locker. Like before, she was shy, stripping faster than a flash of lightning; blink and you would've missed it. The she made a beeline straight to the showers, a towel clutched about her body, protecting her youthful charms like a doe with her faun.

I followed.

She threw her towel over the metal stall, turned on the water, and stepped in. I watched her nubile body as she soaped her pale skin. Her breasts were lovely, a little larger than a handful, topped with tiny, red nipples. Her ass faced me, wiggling, and I pounced like a hungry lion.

"What in the blue hell!" she shrieked as I pressed her up against the shower stall, my hands finding her tits as my cock rubbed on her body. "Oh, no, stop!"

"Just relax, sweetness," I purred. "I ain't gonna hurt ya." I nuzzled her neck, kissing her soft flesh.

"Oohh, looks like Lizzy and the Ghost be gettin' acquainted!" giggled some girl. "Wild, I can see the water running down the Ghost's body."

Lizzy's hands were braced against the metal shower stall as my pecker searched for her opening. She had stopped resisting, my wish starting to take effect – part of my deal with the Devil was that any girl I molested would enjoy it – and she moaned as my cock rubbed on her sweet cooch. I found the tight, spongy opening, and pressed in.

"Oh, wow!" she moaned. "He's inside me pressin' against my cherry!"

"Pop her cherry!" someone clapped. "Break her in for the football team!"

I felt something blocking my cock. Lizzy was an actual virgin with an actual cherry. I had begun to think it was a legend. I drew back and shoved forward; the tissue resisted for a moment, then it gave way before my pecker.

I whooped loudly. "Popped me a cherry!" A clap went up from the assembled girls as I pounded Lizzy's formerly virgin cooch.

"Oh, geez!" she groaned. "Oh, my gosh! His cock's slidin' in and out of me!"

"How's it feel?" someone called out.

"Pretty great!" she answered.

Her juicy cooch felt more than pretty great, it was fan-fucking-tastic: tight, wet, warm, spongy. I pushed her against the shower wall, warm water spraying us. I reached around, and gave those tiny tits – little more than bee stings, but her nipples were hard as diamonds – a nice grope. She gasped as I pinched her nipples, and her cunt tightened about my cock.

"Fuck her hard!" someone yelled out. "And make her cum!"

"Lizzy, you slut! Drain the Ghost's balls!"

"Pound the little whore's snatch proper good, Ghost!"

"Make her howl! Lizzy's so uptight, she needs a good cum to mellow her out!"

I sucked on her neck hard, wanting to leave a hickey. Lizzy moved her hips, panting softly at first, then growing louder as I thrust into her depths. Her voice rose an octave. Her head threw back, braces flashing silver in her wide-open mouth, and she absolutely howled with pleasure. Her tight cooch spasmed about my cock. Nothing felt better than a teen's cunt cumming about your pecker!

My balls were tightening, my cum nearing. I gripped her slippery hips, and thrust a few more times. "Fan-fuckin'-tastic!" I howled as I spilled my balls inside her.

"Oh, shoot! I think he just came inside me!" Lizzy groaned. "Oh, wow! That feels so wild! Oh, gosh, oh, gosh!" She quivered, her cunt squeezing on my softening cock, her black hair tossing as her orgasm burned through her.

"You was a great fuck, sweetness," I said, slapping her ass and grabbing her towel. I dried myself off, leaving her panting in the shower.

Lizzy was the last to leave, hastily dressing, her cheeks flushed. She paused as the next group of girls filed in, and said, "Thank you, Mr. Ghost. I ... um ... I had fun!"

I gave her sweet ass one final squeeze. "Me, too, sweetness. You better skedaddle before I have another go at your hot cooch."

She giggled, and slipped out of the locker room.

I didn't do much with the next group but fondle a few breasts, letting them know the Ghost was here. My pecker needed a recharge after Lizzy's sweet cooch. Which was a shame, because there were some god-damn-gorgeous girls. By the time the second period was over, my pecker had almost recovered.

A pair of smoking-hot twins trooped in with third period. My heart stopped. My pecker rose to full mast. I had to have them. They were slim and graceful, faces full of freckles and large, exuberant smiles. Their hair was a deep auburn; one had hers plaited in a French braid, while the other twin's hair was streaked with blonde highlights. Miss Braid lifted up her frilly top, exposing a pair of small breasts in a lacy bra.

"Oh, my god, did you see Dillon?" Miss Highlights sneered. "That haircut. Eww, what was he thinkin'?"

"Right?" her sister added incredulously, her bra sliding off. Her nipples were dark pink.

I reached out and gave one a pinch. She froze, nipple hardening as I rolled it between my fingers. A small shudder passed through her. She tossed a look over her shoulder, eyes trembling with fear and lust. I pinched harder, and a soft mew, almost like a cat, escaped her lips.

"I was thinkin' of lettin' Dillon ask me out," Miss Highlights continued, unaware of her sister's plight. "No way now."

I pressed my hard pecker against Miss Braid's tight jean shorts, nuzzled her neck, and whispered, "Why don't you slide down them shorts and panties off your purtee ass, and let me fuck your tight cornhole."

"Maybe I should start flirtin' with Shane. Matti dumped him, and he's lookin' so sad." Miss Highlights shuddered, eyes squeezed closed. "I could make him feel all kinda better!"

Miss Braid unsnapped her jean shorts, sighing and writhing her ass against me. I had both my hands wrapped around her tits, kneading the pliant flesh. Her twin kept prattling on about some dumb boy as she unbuttoned her own blouse. The shorts fell off Miss Braid's hips, then she peeled her panties down. Her ass was smooth and pale and plump, and my pecker nestled between her cheeks.

"After I'm done kissin' him, Shane'd forget all 'bout the hussy who broke his heart!" Miss Highlights had a smile on her lips as her bra came off; her tits looked identical to her twin's.

I spat on my hand, wetting my pecker, then spread her cheeks. Miss Braid gasped as I shoved my pecker into her tight cornhole. She was velvety tight and deliciously hot. Her sister looked at her and frowned.

"What are you doin', Marissa?" Miss Highlights asked, then she reddened, and hissed, "What did you do to your butthole? It's spread open."

"I'm gettin' buggered by the ghost, Rhonda-May," Marissa moaned. "Ain't you been payin' attention?" "Saint Peter's ghost!" gasped Rhonda-May, hands clasping over her tits.

"I ain't no saint," I growled. "But I am a ghost! And your sister's lovin' my attention!"

"Shit!" Marissa hissed. "Oh, my god! His cock! Oh, wow! I didn't know anal could feel good!"

Rhonda-May leaned into her sister. "Really? You're likin' it?"

My hand snaked out, pushing Rhonda-May's protective arms away, and groped her tit. She gasped, and tried to pull away, but I got a good grip on her nipple, yanking her back. My wish affected her, and she relaxed, cheeks flushing and hips wiggling as her cooch grew hot and bothered.

"You two are gonna be late for gym!" a mousy girl called out, not realizing what was going on.

"Tell the coach Marissa ain't feelin' good!" Rhonda-May panted. "I'm helpin' her out."

"Oh, shit!" Marissa cursed, her face burning red. "There's definitely somethin' goin' on in my butt!"