Puppet Masters: A Ghost Sex Story (Bizarre Erotica Stories) (3 page)

“Oh, God...Max. Faster…please, fuck me faster.” Max looked into my eyes, gasping in time to his thrusts. I ran my hand over his chest, covered in a sheen of sweat. I’d never been one for sweaty men, but the feel of his slick skin beneath my hands, knowing I’d caused it, made me even hotter.

“Anything for you, Delia. Anything for you.” Max spread his knees, got some more leverage against the bed, and his thrusting into me got harder and faster. “Oh, Delia…I love you.” Max was pounding into me now, his cock filling me completely. I could feel heat starting to build from where we were joined together, flooding through my body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, rocking with the movement of his body.

Suddenly Max’s body stiffened, and he pushed into me hard, holding himself there, muscles tight, arms still holding his body above mine. I watched as he threw his head back, eyes squeezed tightly shut, holding his breath. Then he let out one sharp cry and I felt his cock explode inside me. He lost all control then, jabbing into me several times—short and sharp—his hips twitching to their own rhythm, lost in his orgasm.

The feeling of his pulsing cock shooting into me sent me over the edge. I let out my own cry of release and arched up against Max, muscles contracting, shuddering and convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss washed over me. He finally collapsed on top of me, both of us wet with the sweat of our love making.

We were still wrapped up in each other, Max still inside me, when I felt myself starting to leave my new-found body. I think maybe the intensity of the orgasm broke my concentration, but suddenly I was alone, looking down on two bodies, intertwined on the bed, one of which was recently me.

“Max...” I whispered. “Hey, Max...” The blonde guy raised his head, looking up at me.

“Delia? What happened? Did you lose your body again? And why are you whispering. No one’s going to hear you.” Dave started speaking and then it was Max’s voice, both caught in some weird warbling duet. Even in an awkward moment, I can count on Max’s sense of humor. And then he was suddenly beside me.

“Delia, look at us. We look so happy.” We looked down on the naked couple, lying on the bed.

“Max, that’s not us. We should leave now. This is starting to get creepy again.”

The couple on the bed were sitting up, looking at each other in groggy bewilderment.

“Who’s Delia?” I heard the girl ask, as we drifted from the room. “Is she that waitress you were gawking at all night? I knew there was something going on behind my back.”

Max and I did a post-mortem later at the church. “Delia, it was amazing. I swear I can still feel myself in his body. And you...that body was smoking, Delia.”

“Yes, Max. I was smoking hot.”

“I’d call that a success, right?” Max was so pleased with himself.

“Yes, Max, it was a success.”

“So, you want to try again? Like, tonight?” As established, Max had a very active sex life when he was alive. I sighed.

“I’m not the sex machine you are, Max. Back to back nights of sex weren’t my style before.”

“Okay, Delia.” Thump. A hymnal hit the floor. I sighed.

“But, yes, Max...we can try again tonight.”

And even though we’re spirits, I could see Max smiling.

“I love you too, Max.”