Free Halloween erotica

Apparently, writing Halloween erotica is becoming a tradition for me. I’d completely forgotten I’d written one last year until I went to post my latest, Her Vampire Costume. I’m not much of a paranormal erotica writer, but in cases like Halloween, it just fits. Last year, I wrote about ghosts. This year, it’s vampires. Maybe next year, we’ll do werewolves? (Don’t hold your breath, Jacob fans.)

If you’re looking for something fun, short, and sexy to read tonight, check out one of these stories:

Forbidden Halloween

Max and Katie, from Something Forbidden, attend a party with a couple friends. Dressed as a harem girl, how seriously will Katie take her role to please?

Her Vampire Costume

Costume parties weren’t my thing, Halloween or not. I felt silly for those around me, and even worse for myself. Then I saw her. Pale blonde hair and haunting blue eyes, her only costume a pair of fangs and a cloak… or was it a costume after all?

Peek-a-boo

Exhibitionists aren’t cut out for the ghost’s life, as Paul and Neve learned in the year after their death. Public sex loses something when the public can’t see you and there’s no chance of getting caught. Paul seeks larger and larger audiences, hoping someone — anyone — will see them. On the anniversary of their death, Neve agrees to another shot on a busy summertime beach. Is this their time? Just to be seen once would make all the difference…


 

Edited to add Forbidden Halloween to the list.

Her Vampire Costume

I didn’t want to be at this party until I saw her. The young woman stood on the outskirts of someone else’s conversation, her long black cloak covering everything but her long, blonde hair and her small hands, clutching a red Solo cup like a goblet of wine.

I didn’t like Halloween parties. I felt foolish in my kilt and loose linen shirt, but my friend Rick was anxious to arrive at the party with a buddy and practically thrust the Scotsman costume into my hands.

Seeming to sense my eyes on her, the blonde looked up at me and my heart nearly stopped. Her pale blonde hair fell in styled locks around the bronzed contours of her face and glossy lips, her cute nose and groomed eyebrows adding to her radiant beauty. I had seen good looking women before. I even had the opportunity to be with some women before. This woman was good looking, but those eyes were otherworldly.

Large and pale blue, rimmed with long black lashes, they regarded me with coy amusement. They seemed to stroke my mind, flirting their way into my deepest and most lurid thoughts. And when they found something they liked, and I swear I saw a giggle in her irises.

She crossed the room as if she wasn’t walking, but gliding, each blink of my eyes bringing her a few steps closer. One moment she was next to the pirate and the cave woman; the next she was standing right in front of me, her head tilted back, her hip cocked to one side under that soft, black cloak. I must have been more drunk than I realized.

“I saw you staring across the room,” she said. Her voice was friendly, yet dripped confidence. She cocked her head to one side, her pale pupils regarding me from the corners of her eyes. “See something you like?”

Normally, I would have a smooth answer for this—a silly one-liner meant to break the tension that I suddenly realized was crackling between us. One-liners wouldn’t work on this girl. I knew that immediately. I chose to be straight-forward. “Yes. I did.”

She smiled at me, her expression appreciative. Her teeth were bright white, small and even but for two elongated canines. Fangs. Her tongue toyed with the sharp point of one, her smile suddenly taking on a much more feral look.

Halloween. Right, I almost forgot. A vampire.

“Let me guess,” she said, “you came here with your friends, but your only real intention was to find some hapless girl to take home and suck your cock.”

I balked at her statement and she laughed. It was a beautiful thing, not cruel, but certainly not innocent either. The scary thing about her statement was that she had pinpointed my exact thoughts, right down to the image of her on her knees between my legs. I felt exposed, laid out bare before those large, shining eyes.

The blonde stepped closer, her cloak parting. I received a glimpse of her body for the first time this evening—taut curves sheathed in a tight black dress—before she was standing too close, her fingers closing around my linen shirt to pull me down to her. Her perfume assaulted me, drowned me. I felt myself go rigid. “But Chris,” she said, whispering into my ear, her breath hot along my neck, “aren’t you afraid I’ll bite?”

I felt the sharp points of her fangs scrap along my exposed neck. For a moment, I thought they’d pierce flesh, only to be replaced by soft lips. I sighed, but something about all this didn’t feel right.

“How did you know my name?” I struggled to get the words out as that warm mouth clouded up my mind.

She pulled away, once again regarding me with one of those coy, sideward glances. “You’re sharper than I would have thought, Chris.” Her fingers now dancing along the hard ridges of my pecs below my Scotsman’s shirt. “Maybe you will get lucky, after all.”

Her laugh seemed to bounce off the back of my head and reverberate warmly within my brain. She turned, her cloak whipping around her lean, tanned legs. I blinked. She was gone.

I spent the next hour looking for the petite blonde to no avail. Not only did I not find her, but I didn’t even find someone who knew her, or even remembered her being here. As I walked amidst the costumed revelers, I couldn’t help imagining those playful blue eyes watching me from the shadows, laughing as her elaborate prank unfolded.

After that, the beer and my own horniness took over. I found myself chatting with a leggy brunette—chatting on autopilot. She was as thick as she was beautiful and for all her bashful resistance, I knew I could have her with a minimal amount of effort. Normally, that wouldn’t have been so bad. Brains or no brains, her skin was still soft, her breasts still plump and firm, her wetness just as inviting as the next. Yet the ghost of that small blonde’s eyes followed me even then.

“I need to go grab something from my car. Want to walk with me?” I asked the brunette. Yes, it was a lame line. Yes, I should be ashamed of myself. Hell, I didn’t even know this girl’s name. I said the words anyway.

She giggled. “You scared of the dark?” she asked me, one hand squeezing my arm suggestively. “Want me to take care of you?”

“I’d like that very much.” I took her by the hand and led her out into the street.

I’d parked a few suburban blocks down and we walked hurriedly through pools of lamplight. The buxom girl on my arm’s devil costume was nothing more than a lacy red teddy, a short cap, and little horns sticking out of her thick curls. She definitely was sexy, there was no doubt about that, but still…

“Is this your car?” she asked once we’d stopped in front of my beamer.

I answered her by chirping the alarm off.

“Hm, it’ll do.” She shrugged before shoving me against the car and plastering her body against mine. Her tongue invaded my mouth before I had a chance to close my eyes.

“What’s a Scotsman got under his kilt?” Those doe-like eyes were consumed with baser lust. Her hand had already dropped to find out the answer.

“Ooo… I think I like Scotsmen.”

She dropped to her knees right there, our bodies bathed in the yellow glow of a streetlight. I leaned up against my car and watched as this woman hiked my kilt up around my waist and lowered her mouth onto my cock. Despite thinking about the blonde all night—or maybe for it—I had no problem growing rigid as the brunette worked her lips and tongue over me like warm butter.

She knew precisely what it was going to take to get me off. Her technique was flawless and well-practiced, down to the corkscrewing motion of her mouth and the tightness of her pumping fingers. I would have blown happily into her mouth after only a few minutes were it not for… her…

“Stop,” came a woman’s voice, high yet commanding. The brunette’s bobbing head froze between my legs and despite my tightening balls, I resisted the urge to unleash myself.

I looked up, tearing my eyes away from the she-devil’s concave cheeks, to see the blonde from the party approaching. For a second, I thought her eyes were glowing in the darkness. I blinked. I must have imagined it.

“Looks like you found your hapless girl.” She smiled at me teasingly. “Is she everything you hoped she would be?”

I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t open my mouth. I couldn’t move.

She looked down at the girl, whose mouth still clung to my member. “Leave us,” she commanded. Without a second thought, the brunette stood and made her hurried way back to the lights of the party. My kilt fell back around my knees, preserving my modesty as the blonde approached.

“You must be so close…” she whispered. Her perfume once again assaulted my senses. She didn’t stop approaching until she had me pinned against the car, her hand caressing my throat where her teeth had grazed earlier in the night. My erection rubbed against her warm belly, feeling the muscles below. “I’m sorry I interrupted you at the moment of your… glory…” She laughed. “If you’re a good boy, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

She took my hand and pulled me toward the darkened home that I had parked in front of. I managed to speak at last. We were half-way up the walk before I managd to speak. “Where are we going?”

“Inside.”

“Is this your home?”

“No. Is it yours?” Her vampire fangs flashed in the moonlight as she laughed.

“Won’t we… you know… get in trouble?”

“You think they’re home?” she asked, looking around. The grass wasn’t cut, the driveway was empty, and the lights were off. “Wouldn’t that be exciting?”

I’m not sure how she opened the front door, but the next thing I knew, she was pulling me upstairs in an empty house. My heart was pounding rapidly and every time headlights flickered through the drapes, my breath caught. We shouldn’t be doing this, I wanted to scream, but could do nothing but follow the diminutive woman into a stranger’s bedroom.

“Isn’t this exciting?” she asked once we were up there. The blonde was poking around the darkened room, checking out the bathroom, the closets. Pale moonlight filtered turned the the white linen sheets and white painted furniture into ghosts. I couldn’t do anything but sit heavily on the bed, the adrenaline deafening.

“I don’t even know your name…”

“Really?” Her back was to me and she was looking over one shoulder. She reached up to her neck, undid a hidden clasp, and let the velvety cloak pool around her ankles.

I’d caught glimpses of her small body earlier, but nothing had prepared me for this moment. Her black dress was dangerously short and skintight. It was strapless, her long blonde tresses cascading around her bare shoulders. The dress ended just below the inverted heart of her little butt, plump enough to add a feminine roll to her hips. Her legs appeared longer than they probably were, due mainly to the high platform heels she wore, one foot demurely in front of the other.

I found myself caught once again in those large eyes, unable to escape. This time, I thought I heard her whisper suggestive things directly into my soul. I bet you want to bend me over and fuck me like a wild animal. Ready to get your dick wet? My heart race faster. Being haunted never felt better.

She pivoted on a heel and approached me like a predator, one stride directly in front of the other, hips swaying left and right. “Strip for me, please.”

I had never torn my clothing off faster. I was proud of my body, spending more time in the gym than anyone else I know, but still, my lack of modesty shocked me. Here I was, completely naked, my hard-on springing alive before me, when this blonde still wore everything but her cloak.

“This usually not how it goes for you?” she asked. Her fingers stroked across my broad shoulders and down my chest. When her fingers found my seven inches, swollen and ready for her, she smiled. “Very nice.

She bent forward, affording me a view of her perfectly proportioned breasts, and kissed the head of my erection. I shuddered. Her lips seared. Aren’t vampires supposed to be cold to the touch?

“You must be sooo close.” She giggled once again. Leaning into me, her hand braced on my bare shoulder, the blonde kissed me for the first time that evening, her slippery tongue unrolling slowly past my pliant lips. It was just as coy and alluring as her eyes: coaxing, suggesting, teasing. I found myself moaning into her mouth on just a kiss. When she pulled away, I groaned, wanting more.

She silenced me with two fingers to my lips. “There will be more of that, don’t worry, Chris, but first, you need to do something for me.”

With a little bit more pressure from those two fingers, she pushed me onto my back. Straddling my body, she crawled across me. For a second, I thought she was going to lower herself on my bobbing member, but she climbed higher. Across my stomach, across my torso, the whole time her silky thighs grazing my bare skin.

I looked down and watched her body approach, knowing at last what she had in mind. My hands found her hips, feeling the heat of her skin below, slipping to the hem of her short dress.

“You’ve got the idea.” Her words flaunting down to me as I pulled her dress up. The skin of her thighs was supernaturally smooth.

Her pussy was as flawless as the rest of her body, the parted cleft devoid of a single curl of hair. Her lips were unsurprisingly compact. It was the last thing I thought before being smothered between her straddling thighs.

I wanted to treat her like she’d treated me all evening. I wanted to tease. To leave her on the brink. I let my tongue trail lazily up along her slit, tasting the tangy sweetness. I felt her shudder as I teased her clit, only to draw away before she got too close. The smooth lips of her labia grew plump under my tongue, pushing it deeper and deeper with each lap.

Her fingers raked through my hair, encouraging me further, and I thought I heard her groans through the muffling walls of her tight thighs. Her fingernails bit into my scalp as I flicked at her clit, concentrating my efforts somewhere between pleasing her and breathing.

My own hands cupped her bare buttocks, squeezing the cheeks, drawing her harder against my mouth and lips.

I heard her groan, her fingers tightening in my hair. She squeezed with her thighs. Oxygen was cut off. I should have panicked. I should have thrown the smaller girl off me. Instead, I licked her with the desperation of a cornered animal, sucking her pussy lips into my mouth one at a time, jamming my tongue deep into her when that was done, rubbing my face and cheeks across her bare labia.

Her thighs tightened. I was seeing stars. My nose was overwhelmed with her musky perfume. I felt my consciousness slipping away and still I fucked her with my mouth. Still I drove her higher and higher, harder and harder.

My eyes were open, yet the room had receded to tiny pinpricks of light. Someone was screaming God’s name. Someone was gasping for breath. Someone was cumming.

I drifted out of consciousness then for who knows how long. In the darkness, I felt hands caress my body. Soft hands like fine velvet. Hot kisses. Wet licks and gentle sucks. Circling round and round my body, across my face, my lips, my chest. Circling closer and closer to what?

Teeth. Teeth on my neck. Sharp teeth. I tried to fight off the darkness, my brain fumbling to regain control. Things were still dreamy. Something was holding my cock. Something warm. Softness made fleshy contact with the tip. Soft and wet. My head passed up and down the smooth warmth. Up and down. Closer and closer. A needle being threaded.

I gasped. The head of my cock slipped into what was unmistakably a woman. It lingered there, her grip supple yet taut, as the sharp points returned to my throat. The blonde teased me with shallow penetration. I wanted to scream out. I wanted to thrust up, but couldn’t find the strength.

My mind flashed as she dropped her weight down on me, those warm walls rushing along my member. Our thighs slapped wetly and then… Pain? Teeth? Teeth sinking deep into my exposed neck, my jugular. My breath caught, eyes flaring open.

The blonde was there, poised above me, staring down at me with those large blue eyes. They were smoldering with passion, glowing in the soft moonlight. I half expected to see her chin and neck drenched in radiant red. I was surprised when it wasn’t.

“Oh God!” I shouted as she grinded her pelvis hard against mine, her lips curling back in a feral smile. Her fingernails dug into the curls of my chest hair. I grinded my teeth, staring up into her eyes. “OH FUCK!”

The blonde shut her eyes at last, her body hunched over me, her mouth open as she gasped and groaned for air. Her hips rose and fell, each thrust drawing the tight ring of her pussy agonizingly along my girth. Gripping her hips, I pounded back up into her, returning each downward plunge with my own upward thrust. Each reunion was punctuated by our slapping skin and the straddling woman’s piercing gasp.

I couldn’t take much more of it. I’d been teased too much.

I came, exploding into the blonde’s tight cunt. I felt the heat of my seed wash over my shaft, filling her snug cavity. My head thrashed left and right as my cock pulsed within her. The aftershocks lasted minutes that felt like hours. I could feel my sweat soak the bedspread below me.

When I opened my eyes at last, it was into the eyes of the blonde. I still didn’t know her name.

“Hollie,” she said, answering my thoughts. She stroked my sweaty brow, smiling down warmly at me. She was naked. She winked at me, regarding me in that coy, head-cocked way of hers.

Her breasts sat high on her chest, round and—as I quickly found—a perfect handful. She moaned as my thumbs passed over her puffy, light brown nipples. She gave my cock a playful squeeze with her pussy. I was still hard!

Her stomach was flat, her belly piercing flashing out in the moonlight. Sure enough, my cock remained rigid, Hollie’s clean-shaven lips stretched tightly around its girth. The milky white evidence of our most recent coupling trickled down her thighs and across my balls. I felt myself twitch at the sight.

The blonde cocked her head to one side, regarding me with surprise for a change. “I’m impressed,” she said in that sweet voice of hers, breathing in heavily through her nose. “Impress me a little more.”

I was no stranger at pleasing women. I didn’t back down now.

I sat up into Hollie’s compact body, drawing her lips to mine with a hand at the nape of her neck. Where her kiss was soft and sensual before, it was animalistic now. Our gums grinded against one another; her teeth nipped playfully at mine.

I pushed the blonde back further, rolling with her, my hardness still buried. She ended with her head hanging off the bed, her long, corn-silk hair cascading to the carpeted floor.

“You’ve got me where you want me, big boy,” she said breathily. “Fuck me. Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me until I scream, then fuck me even ha—AHH!”

I didn’t wait for her to finish. I thrust hard against her, my cock flashing through her pussy, striking her cervix. She cried out, letting her head hang off the bed as I ripped into her. I rested my hands on either side of her lithe frame, my eyes crawling lewdly along her naked torso. Her golden skin glowed satin in the moonlight, covered as it was in a thin sheen of sweat. Her breasts shook with the slapping of our bodies. I draped myself across her, smothering her, feeling those hard nipples against my own sweaty chest.

I brought my lips to her exposed neck and tasted the salt of her perspiration. I could feel each ragged breath she took. I could feel the pulse of her life blood. For an instant, I was nearly overcome with the urge to bite, to pierce flesh, to draw blood.

The moment passed. I was myself again.

I reached down between our writhing bodies, sliding my fingers across her slippery-smooth mound. Sweat and pussy juice and cum helped my fingers glide along the denuded skin. I found the little bud of her excitement sitting atop her taut folds and strummed it mercilessly as my thick cock dug into her just centimeters away.

She gasped sharply, threw her head back, and came. Her back arched below me. Her pussy rippled around my still-thrusting cock. She groaned, her nails rending claw marks across my back. Pain seared across my vision. I didn’t care.

“Oh God, deeper! Fuck Chris, fuck me deeper!” Her speech fought its way through her clenched teeth.

I pulled her long tanned legs up and open until they were hooked over my shoulders, folding her small body in half. Hands on either side of her narrow shoulders, I stared down at her reclined head, rocking my hips ruthlessly. I could feel my balls slap the damp juncture between her thighs with each thrust. I could feel my pelvis grow sore with each violent impact.

“AH!” she gasped again and again.The bed rocked. The head board slammed loudly against the wall. Bang! Bang! Bang! “UH! UH! UH!” Hollie raked her fingers through her sex-dampened locks as her body sizzled with her extended orgasm.

She bit down on her lip, her vampire fangs glinting in the dim light of the room. How many times could she come? How much could her body take?

“Oh fuck, again!” she screamed aloud, shattering my eardrums. Ankles hooked behind my head, she drew my pistoning body into her. Her lips tore into mine. Gnashing. Searing. Unforgiving. Her tongue plunged down my throat until I could hardly breath, once again fighting to keep conscious.

At last, her body relaxed, her head hanging limply off the side of the bed. “Oh my God!” she said, her eyes still closed, basking in the afterglow. I said nothing, resting gently across her tight body. My arms burned from the strain of holding her up. My hips were sore. “Oh my God!” she repeated. “You’re still hard!”

Wordlessly, she pushed me off of her, my cock pulling free of her with a collective shudder. She leaned me back against the headboard and snuggling down between my legs, grasping my cum-slick member.

Her hand looked tiny wrapped around me, the fingers barely closing as they pumped slowly, up and down. Smiling at me with those mischievous blue eyes, she lowered her lips.

“Your teeth!” I cried out as she poised her glossy lips at the head of my member.

Hollie looked up at me, smiled, and asked, “What teeth?” Her pearly white teeth were even, her fangs gone. When did she do that?

I didn’t ask. I didn’t care. Not after I felt my dick slip into her warm little mouth.

She stroked me with her fingers as her lips and tongue concentrated on manipulating the mushroom tip, swirling circles of pleasure with each pass. She kept her eyes on me the whole time, measuring my passion, sensing when to change tactics.

I groaned as she slipped more of my cock into her mouth, her lips and fingers making tight passes up and down the engorged flesh. “Oh godddd…” I groaned deeply.

She pulled away with a loud slurp. “This is to thank you for what you just did. This is your reward.”

Nothing else was spoken. I felt myself pass quickly through her small mouth and strike the back of her throat, her tongue working magic along the sensitive underside. Slowly, ever so slowly, she worked me deeper and deeper into her throat, occasionally slurping off me to catch her breath, until her nose was buried in the curls of my pubic hair.

I let my eyes wander across her petite body as the blonde throated me, marveling at the heart-shaped perfection of her ass. If I had any strength left in me, I wanted to take her from behind, on all fours, like the animals that we were. The thought of that, of her hips pounding back into me, of her face buried in the pillow as she screamed in ecstasy, was enough.

She sensed my imminent climax and slipped my cock from her throat, holding just the head within her mouth. Her tongue whipped around the crown once before I exploded, my vision soda-pop white.

I came harder than I did in her pussy just minutes—hours, days—ago. My cock pulsed, Hollie swallowed. I felt my energy drain from me, leaving my body limp and exhausted.

I sat there against the headboard of some stranger’s bed on the cusp of consciousness. Through the hazy fog of my post-orgasmic bliss, I watched the blonde sit back on her heels and smile at me. A thin trail of milky white escaped the corner of her beautiful mouth, making its lazy way down along her chin. Her smile was feral. Her elongated fangs had returned.

“Thanks for the evening, Chris.” She wiped my cum from her lips and kissed me softly. I could barely respond. I was so tired. Her fingers touched my neck and pain throbbed beneath her fingers. “Don’t worry, it’ll heal. Just give it time.”

I blinked and she was off the bed, her naked body posing there at the doorframe for me. “Get some rest.”

I caught one last glimpse of her shadowy curves, her round breasts, and her clean-shaven sex.

“But not too much.” One last giggle. “Never know when the owners are going to return…”

I touched my neck, where the pain hadn’t gone away, and winced. That didn’t feel right, that ragged feeling. I pulled my fingers away. They shined red and wet in the moonlight.

When I looked back at her, she was dressed—at least in the black cloak. “You were yummy.”

One last blink and she was gone.

Peek-a-boo

“Come check it out up here, Neve.”

“Paul, I told you, I just don’t see the point. I mean–”

“Just come up.”

“Alright.” She still didn’t see the point, but she hoisted herself onto the lifeguard chair anyway.

Paul was surveying the wide swath of beach, teeming with oiled and tanned flesh that sparkled in the noon sun. “Look at all those people.”

He pulled Neve onto the wooden perch and wrapped an arm around her. She eyed the crowd and tried to get excited. “Paul…” He pushed a hand up under her blouse and nuzzled her neck. A volleyball game was going on about thirty feet away, guys versus girls, and the guy’s team was facing her. Fit young men ogling her as she fooled around — it would have been unthinkable, once upon a time.

Paul kissed her neck. “Come on, baby.” Down the beach, the sun worshippers went on and on. He licked his lips. “Just look at them.”

Neve sighed as his fingers found the bottom swell of her breast. Unlike Paul, who was dressed for the beach in his swimming trunks and unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, Neve had gone with the sumptuous feel of Italian lace under her beachy attire.

“With all those people out there, someone’s bound to see us. To catch us. Like old times…” Neve wanted to believe his words. Almost anything was possible out there amidst the untied bikini tops and striped umbrellas. Almost anything. It just made the reality of the whole thing more depressing.

“Paul, they can’t see us. We’re dead, remember? In-corp-oreal? Fucking ghosts?”

“Fucking ghosts is right.” His free hand slid up the inside of her thigh, stopping against the edge of her white shorts. She slid away and pushed him back.

“Paul, sweetheart, they cannot see us.

His hand lost its momentum. “You can’t know that for sure. There must be several thousand out there…”

Neve’s heart went out to him, but they’d been disappointed so many times before. “Gives new meaning to being alone in a crowd.”

Neither of them could remember the exact nature of their death. They knew it had to do with the ocean and that they were together. The first concrete thing either of them could recall was washing up on someone’s private beach, where a morbidly obese woman was sunning in the nude. They pretended not to see her and thought that she had paid them the same courtesy. That was before they discovered the woman couldn’t see them at all. No one could.

“Neve, not today. It’s our anniversary. Remember?”

“One year.” She slouched forward, eyeing the ocean. A sailboat cut along the waves, close enough to the horizon that it appeared unmanned.

“I meant our wedding anniversary.”

“Oh.” Now she felt really badly. In a freaky coincidence, they’d died celebrating their tenth anniversary. The tragedy of it all had felt romantic at the time, when everything was so new. “Feels like forever ago.”

“I still remember sneaking into your changing room before the ceremony.” His hand on her thigh came alive.

“I was all full of nerves.”

“You didn’t want me to see you in your dress–”

She squeezed her legs around his hand before it got too high. “So I took it off.”

Neve smiled. She knew what he was doing. Had heard that story a hundred times. But damn him, it was working. They’d gone at it in the moments before the ceremony, Neve in her white lingerie, Paul with his tuxedo trousers around his ankles. And the most exciting thing of all was that just on the other side of the wall were 300 of their dearly beloved.

It was pretty tame considering the things they’d gotten up to through their married years, but it had been the first taste, and if a ghost can’t get nostalgic, then no one can.

That thrill was their curse now. Unattainable. Being invisible to the world dulled the edge of semi-public sex and the danger of getting caught.

Not that they hadn’t tried. At first, they’d fucked everywhere, at every time. At night, when ghosts were supposedly out. During the day in the midst of lunchtime rush. They fucked on things that could move, only to realize that as ghosts, things didn’t move. They even did it in a fortuneteller’s den while she was giving a “reading.” Nothing. Halloween had been their last great hope. Things had been spiraling downward since. Paul was now on a crusade to expose them to larger and larger audiences, thinking that if just one person could get a peek at them, they’d Move On. He said it just like that, capital M, capital O.

“I wonder why we haven’t met any other ghosts.” They’d had this existential conversation before. Dozens like them. “Maybe we’re in hell.” As she pondered, she watched a lifeguard emerge from the surf with a muscled body that prompted her to think, So they do make them like that…

Paul followed her eyes and frowned. “I was hoping it would be a chick guard.”

“Of course you were, dear.” She couldn’t stop looking at the guard as he weaved through the throng, leaving a wake of smiles from pretty girls. “If ever there was someone who could see us…”

Paul’s fingers pushed into the humid space between her thighs, which she’d opened, unaware. “Is it so bad, being stuck with me?”

The wooden perch shifted as the lifeguard climbed onto its lower rungs. Neve’s pulse would have quickened here, if she had a pulse, and her breath would have gone shallow, if she had to breathe. But she definitely felt something, something nice.

OK, so maybe all this was having an effect on her after all, whether they could see her or not.

“Scoot over, honey.” The bench seat was easily wide enough for three — especially since two of them didn’t technically take up physical space — but Paul had an aversion to actually being inside someone else.

The laws of physics were a lot more polarized when you were a ghost. Things were either solid, like side-of-a-mountain solid, or they were as intangible as a slant of morning light. What wasn’t so hard and fast were the rules of how things behaved. The ground was always rigid (even the sand, which made walking across it really strange). People never were. And some things, like doors and walls and cars, fluctuated between the two.

The lifeguard took a wide-legged seat in the center of their perch and Paul nearly squeezed Neve off the edge in his abhorrence. One of his most unpleasant experiences in the afterlife was the first time his face had passed through a hapless pedestrian’s brain. Blech.

Neve regarded him with a half smile. “How about we do this…” She straddled his lap.

“Much better.” He cupped her little ass and pulled her closer.

“Oh, he’s not that bad.” She batted her eyes at the guard as he stared off along the shore. She reached out as though to touch his beefy shoulder, and her finger disappeared beneath the tanned flesh. Paul shivered, looked away. “Don’t be such a homophobe.”

“It’s not… that’s not…” She was fucking with him and he barked out a laugh. “Should I be glad you can’t actually touch any other guys?”

Neve batted her lashes and finally tore her gaze away from Mr. Baywatch. “After all this time, it’s still weird, isn’t it? I mean, he’s right there.”

A strand of dark hair had escaped from Neve’s ponytail and he pushed it out of her face. She had paper-doll skin and pale blue eyes that always looked supernatural to Paul, even before she became supernatural. And those lips. Full, pouty. Succulent.

Neve took her role of ghost seriously, and while she wasn’t going to run around in a white sheet, she figured that melancholy needed to haunt every spiritual atom if she ever hoped to haunt something of her own.

Paul watched her watch the lifeguard. Could see the will in her eyes like a magician commanding a rabbit from his hat. Just one look. Just one little peek. She might have laughed at his theory, but that stare was one of a believer. And that was pretty sexy.

Paul pulled his shirt off, his torso long and lean. “Am I so shabby?”

“A little pale.” She smiled, but the melancholy was still there. “Don’t get much sun?”

Paul squinted at the sky, unblemished by even a single cloud. “I don’t tan. I burn.” She let him draw her close.

This felt good. Like it had been when their relationship was still new. Or even when their lives as ghosts had just begun. They’d explored the world together like a couple deposited in a strange country. They knew the language, but little else. He’d noticed how great she was, but then the obsession with being seen took over. He was beginning to realize that maybe it didn’t matter if no one else in the world saw him as long as Neve did. Problem was, she wasn’t looking at him now.

The lifeguard had turned away from them to chat up a couple of bikini-clad coeds and Neve was looking a little green. “Sluts…”

“Hey, remember me?” The guy you couldn’t stop staring at as you’d walked down the aisle in a white dress and a smile that made your face glow like something otherworldly. He wanted to see that girl again.

“God, sorry.” She shook her head.

Paul guided her to face him, his hand caressing the smooth plane of her cheek. She nuzzled his palm and their eyes met.

It felt like the first time they’d done that in ages. Neve thought she saw something in Paul’s blue irises — the glittering scales of a fish darting out of sight. When they kissed, their tongues curling together, the oldest of friends reunited. They’d kissed plenty of times over the years, but this was more than a friendly peck or a hasty duel during hasty sex. There were layers under that caress that hadn’t been explored since long before they’d died.

He peeled her top off and smiled at the bloom of pure, white lace. Her wedding day lingerie. “I mean, it is our anniversary,” she blushed.

“Sexy.” He thumbed along the fringe and felt her nipple come alive. She discarded her top, dropping it off the lifeguard stand. It fluttered out of existence before it reached the beach. He was happy to see Neve forget to be sad, but couldn’t help rubbing it in. “But I thought we were observing our funeral.”

“You just want to see me in black.” The bra darkened like an inky stain — one moment it was snow white and virginal, the next it was black and wicked. They’d learned a lot in their time post-death, but most importantly of all, they’d learned not to question these little tricks. They just were.

“Maybe.” He ran a hand up her silky thigh. “Weren’t you wearing stockings, too?” Neve hated stockings.

“Don’t press your luck.” She jabbed a finger into his chest to make her point and lost her balance. Terror was a thunderbolt clapping through her and for a brief second, she thought she was going to plunge off the chair. How graceful.

Then, like a skydiver opening her chute, something stopped the fall. She thought it was Paul until she looked at his face and saw him staring at her, wide-eyed. “That’s new,” he said, although his expression didn’t change.

She was hovering. In midair. A foot off the edge of the lifeguard seat. “This is pretty fucking cool!” Even her ponytail started to drift around her face, deciding that gravity wasn’t so important after all.

Paul loved that look of girlish delight on Neve’s face. Here was the girl he’d fallen for. She floated up a little, twisting in the air above, one leg bent. She looked over her shoulder and caught him staring at her ass, encased in white shorts. With the change in lingerie color, he could see the plunge of her thong through the tight material.

Pushing her thumbs into the waist of those shorts, she slid them down her hips and dropped them into his lap. “This strip show isn’t just a one-way thing, honey.”

Paul took the hint. Never taking an eye from the lingerie-clad specter, he lifted his hips and shucked his swimsuit as Neve released her breasts from the bra. He circled himself, feeling it rise as he watched her.

“I think I can really see some advantages to this whole undead thing,” Neve mused. She pivoted, the slope of a naked breast teasing him. “Paul, come join me.”

He stood, cock still in hand. Something shifted. The world yawned in colorful hues. Things were hazier. More surreal — if anything in this strange existence could be considered surreal anymore. And just like that, he joined Neve in her weightless world.

They embraced, his knife-like body hard and slender against her softer form. They kissed until they forgot that their feet had left the ground, and then kissed some more. Neve’s hand took over on his erect manhood, pumping it as his fingers slid into the back strap of her thong.

“I want you…” One of them said it, the other heard it, but speaker and listener immediately blurred. Paul rolled her panties off as she steadied herself on his shoulders. He glided his fingers across her bare sex, teasing the smooth skin of her mound. “Uh…” She didn’t want to be teased. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him close.

He missed on the first pass, glancing across her wet channel and igniting her swollen clit. She was ready. So fucking ready. The second stroke found its mark.

Gravity ran up at her and Neve’s stomach dropped. For a second, she thought she was falling, but Paul was there to catch her. He filled her, solid and still growing. Their eyes locked as she rested her forehead on his. The beach, the chair, the lifeguard all faded a little more. The whole world was whiting out. Even their kiss, wet and laden with tongue, lost its edge.

“Neve, baby, I love you so much.” He was lost in her caress. In the sweep of her back and the soft knots of her nipples. He squeezed her buttocks, feeling her taut muscles flex with each drive. He felt buoyant. He was a pocket of air released at the bottom of the sea. Rising. Rising. He drove his hips up, meeting Neve. Rising inside her. Through her. Dark water was speared with light. Life. It teemed.

Neve watched Paul through slits. Saw the stretch of his life with her — cocky when he’d challenged her in a graduate level course on Nietzsche that she had no right to be in; nervous when he’d waited for her at altar, dressed in a tux and radiant smile. She saw the familiar face that she’d woken up to every morning of her too-short life. The guy she wanted to be with forever. And if this was the curse she had to live with, she laughed at the morality that had damned her.

“You feel so good, Neve.” He drove faster and faster into her. They tipped back and Neve found the chair behind her. She braced them on it as Paul thrust home. She felt the wood start to lose its form, its jarring rigidity. For the first time in her ghostly experience, an object began to ply.

It barely registered. She couldn’t take her eyes off Paul, although he was almost too beautiful to look at, his skin a milky bioluminescence. She thought it was just him, then saw her hand on his chest. Saw him through her hands. She looked away, down at the girls who’d been flirting with her lifeguard. They were staring. Staring at Paul and Neve.

“They can see, baby.” Her voice wasn’t her own. It was sub-vocal. It was their shared song. “They can see us.” It was as terrifying as the first time she’d done this. In the church. On their wedding day.

Paul heard, but didn’t understand. He was still rising. Almost at the surface. He saw light. Saw it leak from Neve’s pours and shimmer across her sweat-washed skin. Her heels dug into his backside, holding him inside her. He felt himself expand. Felt his balls tighten. He couldn’t see anything else anymore. Only Neve. Neve against him. Neve watching him as everything tightened around him.

“I love you. I love you. I LOVE YOU!”

The world was washed in white. He felt her join him, sharing the bliss, getting lost in the feel of their union. And then–

When it was over, when she finally opened her eyes and stitched the tattered remains of her senses together, Paul was gone and the rest of the world was covered in a white film. The lifeguard was staring at her from below, his beautiful face faded out like the picture on a television viewed in direct sunlight. His square jaw hung slack, his eyes comically wide.

She hoped her smile came off as flirty.

“Come check it out up here, Neve.” Paul didn’t sound disembodied, despite the lack of a body.

The ghost rolled her eyes and resisted the temptation to say, Boo.

“Alright,” she said instead.

And Moved On.