The Living Ghost
I’ve been meaning to put this down in writing.
I wish I could tell you when it started, but I have no idea. I lived alone. I had no girlfriend. My father want’s nothing to do with me. My job was as a 3D computer designer where I don’t really communicate with many people, except for over email. I had food delivered to my condo. On average I personally interacted with about three people a week, and never anything more than a friendly hello. So, I can’t tell you when I became a living ghost.
I know when I first realized I became a living ghost. One of my clients wanted a phone call to discuss some changes. So, at the appropriate time I hopped onto the video phone call. No one could hear or see me. They couldn’t see me do anything. They were all worried about me. I opened the blinds that were behind me, and they saw that, but they didn’t seem to notice it until I typed in that I’d opened the blinds. This worried me enough that when I finished with typing everything, I went to go see the doctor that had an urgent care down the street.
I walked in, and the nurse didn’t see me. I shouted at her, and she didn’t hear me. No one in the waiting room saw me. I poked some guy, and he barely did anything but was moved slightly by my finger. He didn’t notice me. No one noticed me. No one noticed anything I did. I dumped a cup of water on some woman’s head, and she didn’t even blink. That is, until I left the room.
When I left the room there was screaming from the woman, and cursing and demanding to know who dumped water on her. I walked back into the waiting room, and the woman was still accusing everyone around for dumping water on her head.
I remember saying out loud, “Oh shut up, you old bat.”
Instantly she shut up.
No one can see me. No one can hear me. I can do anything I want to anyone as long as I’m in the room, and they won’t notice. Anything I say to someone they will obey without knowing, or caring, why. It was like I was a living ghost with spooky mind control powers. I could live with that, at first.
I was on the street when I grabbed a bicycle from some guy. He didn’t even seem to care I took it. It wasn’t until I was out of sight range that I heard the yelling that someone stole his bike.
Not a single person commented on a bicycle that didn’t have anyone on it, so I guessed that whatever made me invisible to others also extended to what I was riding. I guess that’s good since if people saw clothes without anyone inside, this would have attracted attention that I wasn’t getting. It was a short trip over to the local community college.
I walked around without anyone noticing me. I’d pinch women’s asses, and tits, and they wouldn’t react. I kicked one jock-looking-guy in the nuts, and didn’t hear the scream until I was around the corner. I went into a class room and pulled the shirts off every woman there, including the professor. No one noticed they were topless until I left the room.
I went into one class room, and did the same thing, but this time I added a twist. I said out loud, “No one will notice all the girls are topless for five minutes.” Sure enough, I left, and not a single man or woman reacted to the topless babes discussing Walden for five minutes. Then all hell broke loose.
I went into another class room. The man at the white board was saying something, I didn’t care to listen. I told him to keep lecturing, but drool, and don’t wipe it away. It was kind of funny to see the guy slobbering all over his shirt. I decided to have even more fun.
“You will know that to stop your uncontrollable drooling you’ll need to have a kiss from every woman in this room,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear. “You know that all you have to do is ask, and every woman in the room will line up and kiss you. To all the ladies in this room, as soon as the professor askes for a kiss from you, you will line up and give him a kiss.”
I walked out of the room, and then right back in. It was hilarious. The professor’s shirt was soaked. Everyone was laughing at him. The professor was trying to catch the drool with some paper towels, and apologizing the whole time. Everyone laughed harder when he slid on his own drool.
“Okay, that’s enough,” the professor said. “Ladies, kiss me.”
It was creepy fun to see all of the college students stand up at the same time, and advance on the front of the room. No one seemed to be doing so willingly. The women were visibly straining to keep themselves from kissing the saliva covered lips of the professor.
“Ladies,” I said to the room, “you desperately want to kiss your professor. It will be the most erotic experience of your life.”
Now the shuffling stopped and the young women were rushing to kiss the drooling professor. They seemed like they couldn’t wait one second to smash their face onto his sopping wet one. Then the moaning started from the women. Just watching them was hot. As soon as the girls kissed the professor their entire body was shaking, and a clear damp spot appeared on most women’s crotches. It took me a minute to realize they were all having orgasms. I can see that being the most erotic experience in their lives.
By the time all the women had kissed the professor I was bored. I ordered everyone back to their seats. I made sure no one noticed the professor’s wet shirt, or the women’s wet pants. I also tried to make sure none of the women remembered kissing the professor, or how erotic it was. I left the room, and no one screamed or came out of the room in a huff.
I somehow ended up in the gym on campus. There were women practicing volleyball and I was just watching, from the side of the court. Seeing all those athletic women running around was making me really horny. When the coach, and older but still athletic looking woman, called a water break, I went over to one of the women. She had short blonde hair, and a slim body, but her sports bra was clearly holding some impressive breasts in. I pulled off her shirt, and then her bra, and saw that I was right.
They were impressive, for an athletic woman. Probably about C-cups, pert and just a slight upthrust to her pink nipples. I was even hornier seeing them.
“Damn girl,” I said as I rubbed them and she drank her water. “These breasts are magical. You should be topless as much as possible. Let people look at your tits and get horny.” Okay in all honesty I’m not sure exactly what I said, but this is close.
The team went back to practicing and I was enjoying watching the blonde babe jump around topless. There was even a group of people who came into the gym area, a tour of perspective students, and no one noticed me or the fact one of the players was bare chested. The coach called it done, and the girls filed into the women’s locker room. A place I’d never been, so I waited for everyone to go inside before following.
“Your breasts are making me so horny,” One of the girls was saying when I walked in.
Most of the women were staring at the blonde girl’s breasts, and rubbing their crotches. It was like their eyes were transfixed on the blonde’s tits. The blonde was enjoying the attention, and shook her chest a bit. Every other girl was staring at her, and upon seeing her nipples shake, they all let out moans of arousal.
“What the hell is going on in here?” The coach’s voice barked. She came around the lockers and right behind the blonde with magic breasts. “What are you all doing?”
The blonde had a happy voice as she said, “They all seem to really like my tits.”
The coach looked down, and gasped. I watched the coach ram the heal of her hand right between her legs. The coach couldn’t take her eyes off the blonde’s tits, and all the while was getting highly aroused, flushed, and grinding her wrist into her pussy.
I loved seeing this, but there was so much more that could happen. “The sight of your breasts makes women completely bi-sexual,” I said to the blonde. “You are now a full fledge lesbian, and love dominating the women who see your breasts.”
I swear I saw the blonde woman’s eyes flash, just for an instant. Then the blonde babe took control. “If y’all don’t want me to cover up my tits, you’ll all strip naked and lick my pussy,” The blonde said with authority.
I loved seeing the coach rip her clothes off. I mean it, her shirt was shredded, as was her bra, and her pants were close. The coach looked like she still exercised for hours a day, and was fighting off the sag women got while getting older. The rest of the volleyball team had less sag, and less strength to rip their clothes off.
I was about to leave, it was getting crowded, when I saw two sexy brunette women come into the locker room. I had to see how this played out.
“What the fuck?” One of them said to the naked women fighting over the blonde girl’s snatch.
The blonde looked up, and then cupped her breasts. “Aren’t you two sexy,” The blonde commented as the two brunettes saw those magical breasts. Instantly the brunettes were sweating and flushed and horny as they rubbed their breasts and pussies through their clothes. The blond put her hands over her nipples. “If you ever want to see my tits again,” the blonde teased, “you’ll rip each other’s clothes off and start making out.”
I left the two in good hands as they grabbed, ripped, and let buttons fly. I looked back just as the two brunette women were smashing their faces together with mania I’d never seen even on the internet.
I was hungry by this time so I went over to the food court. I swiped some burgers, and fries, and a large drink. I sat down next to an African American woman with huge breasts. She was talking with some guy, but I didn’t care. I ate, unbuttoned her blouse, and fondled her tits while I ate. She didn’t react, but I did feel her nipples harden under my fingers. I thought about this as I went over and grabbed a can of whipped topping from their anytime waffles booth. I opened the woman’s blouse all the way, and undid her bra. She seemed to let me, but not notice it as she was talking with the guy.
I sprayed the whipped topping on her dark nipples, and started licking the white creamy foam off. I said to the woman, “Whenever your nipples are licked, by anyone but yourself, you’ll have a powerful and pleasurable orgasm.” I then licked her nipple again.
Her whole body shook. Her legs and thighs vibrated fast and hard. Her arms and shoulders looked like she touched a live electric wire. Her mouth opened to gasp, but that was all. She didn’t even seem to notice she’d had an orgasm. The guy she was talking to didn’t seem to notice either. No one did, but me. I enjoyed watching her climax, and be oblivious to it. I licked the whipped topping off her other nipple. I didn’t bother to count how many orgasms she had, but by the time I was done she was a sweaty and leaking mess. I sometimes wonder what happened to her.
I headed back to my apartment, and found police there trying to find me. I was flattered. I didn’t think anyone cared enough about me to even think to call again. I heard one of the detectives say they were trying my phone again. I pulled out my phone, which was on silent, and found forty messages waiting for me.
I left my apartment, and answered the detective’s call. He still couldn’t hear me. I did try and issue commands over the phone, but that didn’t seem to work either. I could hear the detective in my apartment talking about how someone had my phone because they called him. I tried texting. That worked.
I spent the next hour texting the detective that I was fine, and just needed to be someplace else. I did find out that if I texted while in the room with the person, I was texting, they wouldn’t notice the text until I left the room. I said to the police in my apartment to believe everything I texted. I texted the microphone on my phone stopped working, but everything was fine.
Things were not fine. I was a living ghost. About the time the police left my apartment, I was freaking out. My life was going to be significantly different from that moment forward. No one could see me, no one could hear me, no one could feel me. Anything I said to a person they would do, and either not notice they were doing it, or were fine with doing it. The big question, the one that everyone has to face in their lives at some point is, now what?
I started walking as night fell. I kept walking. I wasn’t tired and my feet didn’t hurt, at first. I picked a direction and put one foot in front of another. Joggers went past me, avoiding me, but not seemingly realizing they were doing so. I could do anything I wanted to, to any of them. They wouldn’t even be able to even notice to stop me. It took longer than I expected to finally come to realize, I had super powers. The magical breasts were also an indication that I could give other people super powers too. Honestly, the living ghost powers sucked compared to if I could fly or was super strong.
I walked until I found a night club. I walked right past the bouncer. The place was filled with pounding music and bright colored lights. The people there were not too enthusiastic. It wasn’t the weekend, yet. No one took notice of me. I ripped dresses off women. I pulled guy’s dicks out. I filled beer glasses with vodka. I changed the music to slow jazz. I made men’s words, any words, insanely erotic to women. I gave women the ability to make men as hard as physically possible, just with a touch on any part of a man’s body. I gave some out of place geeky guy confidence and powerfully hypnotic eyes. No one noticed.
I found a blonde in a silver dress leaning over a table to talk to another woman with black hair and huge earrings. I bent the blond over the table, and ripped off her panties. She didn’t notice as I pulled my cock out and put it right at the entrance to her womanhood. She was dry as a box of crackers.
“You’re ten times wetter than you’ve ever been in your life,” I said.
Instantly the blonde felt like a warm drink had been poured into her pussy. I slid in easily. Pumping in and out of a woman is great, if she’s into it. Otherwise, it’s like I’m pounding a pot roast. There was only a mild thrill when I pulled out and splattered the back of her dress with my cum. I stood the blonde up, and the raven-haired woman stood up too. I could see her red dress now, and the blooming wet spot between her legs. Apparently, I caught both with my ten times wetter command. I cared about as much as they seemed to. I fucked, came, and then left.
This seemed to be what I did for weeks afterward. I found out that driving a car was dangerous, for me and everyone else. I would ride bicycles when possible. Usually if I wanted to get someplace I would either ride a motorcycle, or hop onto a plane. I’d go someplace I’d never been, find a good-looking woman, fuck her, and then leave. I took what food I wanted, slept where I wanted, and fucked who I wanted.
No one could see me on camera. No one noticed when I took things. No one cared that they would find themselves suddenly awfully wet and aroused and seemingly well fucked. You’d think that was the perfect life.
I felt empty.
I was a ghost in my soul as much as anything else. What good is fucking a woman, if she doesn’t even know it, or act like she’s enjoying it? I didn’t just want to fuck, I wanted to make love to someone. I didn’t think I would ever have that, and cursed my powers, and my life.
This is going to sound stupid but the only thing that kept me going was that I was determined to check out every ghost tour in a book I had. I wondered if I could die, and felt low enough to try. First, I wanted to check out the popular ghost tours around the USA. Maybe there was someone else like me there.
I was in the area so I hit the Ultimate Greenwich Village Ghost Tour in New York City, New York. I had a hankering for lobster, so I checked out the Black Cat Nightly Ghost Tour in Salem, Massachusetts. I did the Nightly Spirits: White House Ghost Tour Pub Crawl in Washington, D.C. that was disappointing. There was the Blue Orb Savannah Ghost Tour in Savannah, Georgia where we didn’t see any blue orbs. I enjoyed the Ghosts and Gravestones Key West Frightseeing Tour in Key West, Florida, so I stuck around for about a month. I went up to the Original Ghosts of Williamsburg in Williamsburg, Virginia, and wished I could have asked questions. I headed south again to experience French Quarter Phantoms in New Orleans, Luisiana. It was so hot, and sweating buckets even at night, when I went on the Bad Wolf San Antonio Ghost Walk in San Antonio, Texas. It was hot and dry when I went on Goodsprings Ghost Hunt in Goodsprings, Nevada where our hunt was unsuccessful. The last thing I did was the LA Ghosts in Los Angeles, California, and did the two-hour-long, twelve locations, experience.
I was tired. I was hot. I was sweaty. I followed the LA tour guide back to her place. At the time I had no idea your name was Emily Fairbanks. I missed it when you first introduced yourself. I found you attractive as soon as I saw you. Your long naturally blond hair seemed to shine. When you smile the way you do, your cheeks go up, making your head widen in a way that was almost magical. You had, and still have, a great figure. I loved hearing how you talked, and still do, with that little upturn of pitch at the end of your sentences. After the tour, and bar, I was ready to take a shower, and maybe eat some real food, and you were right there, being so very attractive, so I followed you. By followed you I mean I got in the back of your car and we went to your apartment.
I truly didn’t mean to scare you.
I went and took a shower, and the next thing I know you’re turning off the water. I turned on the water as you just stood there not noticing that I did so. I was a little self-conscious that you were watching me as I soaped myself up, even if I knew you couldn’t see me. You left the bathroom, and I closed the curtain. The sound tipped you off that something was going on, and the water was back on, and you came in holding the can of pepper spray from your keys.
“Who the fuck is in here,” you yelled.
“No one here but us ghosts,” I said as a joke when you ripped the curtain aside. You looked right at me, without seeing me. Your blue eyes were wild looking.
“Fuck, ghosts aren’t real,” said the tour guide for a ghost tour.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” I said as I washed myself off.
You left the bathroom, and I turned off the water. You came rushing back in.
“If there’s a spirit, or some demon, give me a sign,” you demanded.
“Okay,” I said sarcastically. It was the first time I’d ever been called out. “As soon as you leave the bathroom, you’ll strip off all your clothes and masturbate to a powerful orgasm while singing the National Anthem.”
You waited for a few seconds, and then went out the way you came. I watched through the doorway as you stopped, all but ripped your clothes off, and plunged two fingers into your vagina as you started singing, “Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light.”
I closed the door to the bathroom to your off-key singing as I dried myself off. By the time I was done I opened the door to a sight that I regret now. You were drenched in sweat. Your hand was still between your legs as your body was jerking from your orgasm. Your eyes were also wide and glued to the door and just finishing singing, “O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!”
That’s when you jumped up, still having aftershocks from your orgasm, and angerly demanding, “Show yourself spirit!” You’re cute when you’re naked and angry.
I saw where the post-it notes are kept, and wrote on one, ‘I’m sorry I can’t do that.’ Then I proceeded to stick it to your bare chest.
I left the room, and heard you give a cry of surprise. You found my note. “This isn’t real,” you were repeating. “This isn’t real!”
I went back into the hall and said to you, “Calm down and relax.” I watched you calm down and relax. Pro-tip, this never works with women, unless you have mind control powers.
“You made me finger myself,” You were saying to the void. “Make me do something else.”
I shrugged and said, “Go into your bedroom and do a sexy erotic dance for the next minute.” You are an amazing dancer. When you want to be. The way you rolled your hips, and shook your breasts, and thrust your pelvis up was turning me on like I hadn’t felt for years. I think we were both disappointed when the minute was up.
“Alright, spirit, you want to live here, then we need to set some ground rules,” you started saying. Did I want to live there? I asked myself that question as you said, “Don’t waste my water, you can shower with me.” I think that was the first moment I had some idea that I could love you.
You know the rest. We would text each other for hours. I took to keeping the place clean, and making food for us. You were working on your degree in business as well as doing tours, and I helped where I could. I had the best pictures of your graduation. In that time, I just fell more and more in love with you. It wasn’t the traditional relationship but we made it work. I went back to working on 3D-designe work, and realizing how much things can change in two years.
I think you like my powers more than I do. You made me, make you, eat healthy, and exercise. You had me help you with some of the ghostly encounters on the tours, making them more popular, and thus increase your pay. When you told me to have my way with your mind, the only thing I could think of was to make you want to get breast implants, and shave your bush. I’d like to think when you said you were thinking of those things anyhow it wasn’t my influence, but neither of us seem to question things too much anymore. As far as I know you’re still on the fence about having your own super powers. That’s a discussion for another time.
I was glad when your sister took everything in stride. It was because of her we found out I could talk through people, by telling them to repeat what I said, even if they don’t consciously hear what I say. Then you had the wonderful idea of using the Alexa pod to repeat what I said, and that usually works. The hole in the curtain for sex was a great idea too, so at least we both can enjoy it in real time.
I took up art classes. I didn’t tell you why, at first. When you realized that it was art dealing with the human body you just kept joking that if I wanted to see naked women there were easier ways. It is clear I’m not a very good artist, but I had a reason to try. I made a self portrait of myself. There was something gratifying when you first saw it, and said that I was not what you envisioned, but seeing my self portrait made me more attractive than your fantasies.
I remember talking with you, months into our relationship, after you got your new job, and through Alexa, was when I asked you to marry me. You thought Alexa had screwed up again. Then you realized I was serious.
The wedding was unconventional. The headlines were how you were marrying a ghost. It was when some of the ghost hunters were using different equipment to try and get an image of me that we found out the Xbox Kinect could see me. I was as amazed as everyone else. People didn’t believe it was me until I did the YMCA movements, and you laughed. I love your laugh. You could see me on the Kinect get down on one knee and the Alexa actually work right as I said, “Emily Fairbanks will you marry me?”
“YES!” You shouted in your wedding dress. I heard that some people wondered what the alternative was.
Of course, when saying our ‘I Do’s’ the damn Alexa malfunctioned and said, “I doughnut.” It worked the second time as everyone was laughing. That part is burned into my mind forever.
The interview, after our honeymoon, was the top watched video on YouTube, for a time. My favorite part was when you said, “There’s a time in the mornings, where you’re between awake and asleep, when I can feel him. My mind hasn’t fully gotten to the point where I’m conscious and I can feel his arms around me. Sometimes, I can feel him stroking my hair. Sometimes I can hear him, like a distant wind that just carries the hint of words, and in that time when I hear him saying, ‘I love you, Emily.’ That is when I feel content. That’s when I feel the love, he has for me. You want to know why I married a ghost? I did it because I love him, and he loves me, and we’ll be together for as long as we both shall live.”
I LOVE YOU!!!