Chapter 7 #2
“I thought I saw something out my window, that evening when I moved in.”
“When I first appeared here like this, I appeared in the backyard,” she points. “I don’t know how I knew, but I knew instantly that I was not alive in the usual sense. And everything was so different. I saw you in your room and panicked and hid.”
So it was her. I smile, imagining it. “I guess the sight of an orc would have been pretty frightening, the first time.”
She shakes her head, eyes wide. “No! It was a surprise for sure, but no, look at me,” she gestures to herself.
“I am a ghost! The panic was over my own appearance, not yours. I was fascinated by you. You’re very handsome, and you have the kindest eyes.
” Her expression turns thoughtful. “You were unpacking things from boxes long into the night, and you seemed so incredibly… I don’t know,” she adds in a rushed whisper, “you seemed lost in the same way that I felt.”
There’s a lump in my throat, and my eyes are burning. I nod. “I was.”
“I don’t think you are now. What you’re doing, it’s good.
You’re so very good at it, and when you tell me how it is for women — that they can go to your show and enjoy this, and be happy — I just think, it’s a gift.
You are gifted at this, but you are the gift…
you are doing a good thing. I wish women had this freedom when I was alive. ”
“I’m not… I’m still pretty lost, Rose.” My mouth works, but I can’t seem to put what I need to say into words, and I take a deep breath, steeling myself. “I’m not lost when I’m with you.”
She nods vehemently. “You found me. You found me, Zak. I’m still afraid, but I would be so much more of a mess without you.”
“Ditto,” I croak. Two syllables is all I can manage right now.
After a break for some water and a snack — my excuse to allow me to calm the fuck down before I go and have a cry in front of Rose because she means more to me than anyone else ever has before and I don’t know what to do about it — I’m ready to start practising again.
I’ve run through the solo part of the track without mistakes, so it’s time to add on the final part, pulling up a member of the audience, sitting them on a chair, and giving them a lap dance worth remembering.
I watched it through with Rose earlier, and now grab an old chair from the dining set, sitting it in the centre of the room.
I mime to an audience member that isn’t there, rolling my hips over an empty chair in time to the music, going through the motions but not really vibing with it the way I was earlier.
What Rose said about not knowing where she goes freaks me out.
That she has no memory, that there is nothing between her mysterious death and now.
It terrifies me that she doesn’t know what she is species-wise, and that there is so much uncertainty.
I hate it when she fades away every night.
It scares me that I’m falling in love with a ghost.
“Zak.”
Rose’s feet are soundless on the wooden floor. She walks over to me, pausing for a moment as she stares up into my eyes. “May I sit?” she asks quietly.
“Of course.” I gesture to the chair I’ve been using as a prop. “Go ahead.”
I don’t know why I’m nervous, but I suddenly am. It’s because it’s her. “Do you want me to dance for you?”
“Yes. With that thing on, too,” she adds with a smile, pointing to the helmet. “And your shirt off. I want the full experience.”
I think back to what she said, about women having freedom in this time. Things aren’t perfect, but they’re certainly an improvement on the limitations Rose would have dealt with. The fact that Rose is here, demanding what she wants, makes me happy. She’s right; it is a gift to share it with her.
“Alright then.”
I pull off my shirt, leaving it atop my discarded jeans, and tie my hair back completely so I can slip the helmet over my head easily.
There’s something about putting on a costume that I’ve always found helps me properly immerse myself in a character, and this is no different.
With the helmet on, I’m not Zak here, just a dancer for my audience, here to give her the best fucking time of her life.
I move to the beat of the music with ease. I’ve always loved dancing, loved how alive it makes me feel, my body speaking in ways I could never articulate with words.
There are so many things I want to tell Rose.
She chews on her lip again, big eyes scanning over my body, as if she doesn’t quite know where to look to take it all in.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so aware of how tiny she is as I am now with her perched on the chair, her fingers gripped tight in the fabric of her skirt.
I grab the back of the chair with both hands, caging her in, rolling my hips in time to the music, my crotch in her face and that cool feeling I always get around her even more intense against the bare skin of my stomach.
It’s all part of the act, but it quickly feels like more when I hold out my hands and she places hers in mine.
We’re not really touching as I guide them to my chest, but I swear I feel the icy brush of her fingers as she drags them down my body, and my cock — forever betraying me around her — hardens to a stiff bar that’s unmistakable beneath the fabric of my underwear.
I’m meant to catch hands that get too grabby, but when her translucent fingers glide over the outline off my cock, all I can do is swear softly under my breath. I’m too hot beneath this stupid helmet so I tear it off, tossing it to the side with a thunk, the music forgotten.
“Zak… I…”
I swear I can feel the pressure of those fingers, just a little. I cover her hands with mine, grinding into my own palm, exhaling at the sensation. “Yeah, baby?”
Her pupils are blown wide, a darker green against the translucent glow of her face. “I wish I could touch you,” she whispers, her voice forlorn and desperate all at once, and I don’t miss the way her thighs press together. Fuck.
I drop to my knees, leaning into her, bringing my face close to her neck. “I wish I could taste you,” I say without thinking. “I’d kiss every inch of your skin if I could. I bet you smell fucking amazing.”
She makes a small whimpering sound, squirming in her seat again, her palms pressed flat against her thighs.
“You don’t need my permission, baby, but if you want it, you have it. Touch yourself if you need to. Trust me, I won’t mind.”
She lets out a breathy laugh. “Only if you do the same.”
I stare into her eyes. “It’s a deal.” I lift a hand to her face, wishing I could feel the softness of her skin as I trace the outline of her jaw.
“You’re beautiful,” I add quietly as she lifts her hands to her hair, pulling pins free.
They disappear into nothing and she shakes her hair loose so that it falls in waves down to the small of her back. “You’re just so fucking stunning.”
“It doesn’t bother you, that I would quite happily do this?”
“No! Why would it?”
“Because obviously… there must have been others, for a lady such as myself to be confident in what she knows about a man, and —”
“I don’t care. Or, let me rephrase that; I care about you, not some archaic ideas around virginity and experience.”
The relief on her face is palpable. “You’re a good man.”
“I’m just a man. Everyone should be like this. But… does it bother you? What I do, I mean. Now that you’ve had a front-row seat.”
She shakes her head. “You said it was acting. Do you mean it, when you dance for them? Do you mean it in the same way you mean it for me?”
“No. Everything’s different with you.”
She smiles softly. It seems only natural to close the gap between our lips.
I don’t understand how I can feel so much when there’s no true sensation here, no pliable mouth sliding over mine, but perhaps it’s the sound of her breathless little moan or the sight of her eyes fluttering closed that does it for me.
My hand is on my cock, pulling it out at the same time that she grabs at her breasts through the fabric of her top, squeezing them.
I lean back, still on my knees, letting her watch me stroke my cock, teasing myself with the slowest pace possible as I drag my foreskin back and forth over the head.
She licks her lips, her eyes meeting mine a moment later in silent invitation, and I rise, pressing my cock to the shape of her mouth.
“Holy fuck.” It’s disconcerting and strange and fucking hot to see my dick in her mouth — I can see through her, after all. She pulls back with a grin after a moment, the cool sense of her on the head of my cock making me shiver.
“I wish I could taste you,” she says. “But the sight of you alone is a joy.” I stroke my dick faster in response, leaking precum that drips through the shape of her skirt and onto the floor, and she lets out a long exhale through pursed lips, her hands finding her breasts once more.
There’s a sudden urgency in the air, accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing.
Her fingers undo her buttons quickly, and soon her entire blouse is being pulled over her head, melting away into thin air as she drops it.
She pulls her bra-like contraption upwards, hiking the fabric up above her tits so that her nipples are exposed to the cold night air, and fuck it’s such a pretty sight, her full breasts spilling over the edge of the corset she wears underneath.
“I want you to come,” I say. “I want you to touch yourself for me, and I want us to come together.”
“Yes,” she gasps, already playing with nipples. I drop to my knees again, and her legs spread as wide as her skirt allows.
“Show me that pretty pussy,” I demand. “Fuck, I want to touch you.”
She grabs at her skirt with both hands, pulling it up quickly, revealing another layer of…
lace-edged crotchless shorts? I’ll have to ask her about her underwear another time, because she spreads her legs wider again, and all of my attention is drawn to her centre, the star of the show, the most beautiful cunt I’ve ever seen.
She spreads herself further again with delicate fingers, and I watch, squeezing my dick and feeling ready to explode as she traces her outer folds in a tease before finally setting the pad of her finger on her clit.
I can’t take the sound of her quiet moans, not without doing something myself. It doesn’t even feel silly to lean forward and lick, my tongue swiping through cool air rather than the warmth of her. She moans louder, and her hand moves faster.
“Lie down,” she whispers, and at my confused look she rises, her chest heaving, drawing my attention to her breasts. “On the floor. Please.”
“I don’t think this is how…” I begin, doing as I’m told, but my words cut off as she climbs over me, half her limbs going through me as she straddles my hips.
“Oh fuuuck,” I groan, watching her line herself up with my dick.
It doesn’t even matter that I can’t feel her; there’s something about all of this — about Rose — that makes this the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
She continues to rub her clit as she lowers herself abruptly, my dick inside her — I can literally see it through the shape of her — and I pump my fist faster.
She’s not actually sitting on me — her thighs disappear into my body on either side of my hips, and I know she’s holding herself in place, but it still looks fucking hot.
She looks down, watching my cock through herself with an open-mouthed stare, squeezing her breast once more, her hand on her cunt never faltering.
She is a tiny thing, and my dick looks huge inside her.
“Holy fuck,” I grunt, too fucking turned on to be disturbed by the fact that I’m rubbing one out inside the body of my ghost girlfriend, my hand working my dick at a frenzied pace, the continuous wet fap fap fap sound loud enough to be heard over the music still playing from my phone.
“Fuck I’m close,” I hiss, feeling it building beyond what I can handle. “Rose —”
She cries out suddenly, back arched and head thrown back, tits thrust outwards and long hair brushing my thighs, and it’s my undoing.
I come with a groan, thick ropes of cum erupting as I continue to work my foreskin over the head of my dick.
Watching me ‘fill’ her is an experience for sure, and she moans as I keep going, until there’s a huge pool of cum on my own stomach, a mess on the floor and on my thighs, and all the while Rose rocks herself as if she’s grinding on me.
I let out a deep exhale, my head landing back on the floor with a thunk, closing my eyes for a moment.
Her breathy laugh is such a wonderful sound, and I grin.
I get the sense that she’s scooting forward, and open my eyes to her caging my head with her arms, a shower of translucent green hair surrounding me.
“Hey,” I murmur, staring up at her pretty face.
“Hello. I enjoyed that very much.” She is flushed, I can actually see it now, the apples of her pale cheeks slightly darkened.
“Same. You’re beautiful, and perfect, and I was right, you have a very pretty pussy.”
“You have a very big penis,” she grins with all her teeth, “and my god, a lot came out of it.”
We laugh together, and I reach up to her face without thinking, trying to tuck the hair back behind her ear. It sobers the moment a little when I realise it’s a futile task. “I forgot to warn you about how much orcs come. It’s a thing.”
“I wish I could —” She chokes off suddenly, her entire figure growing faint in an instant.
“Hey, no, stay with me,” I say, panic lacing my voice. She fades away every night, but it’s not normally so sudden. “Rose —”
“I’m sorry!”
She’s gone in an instant, winking out of existence like she was never even here, leaving me alone with my mess of cold cum and my phone playing the familiar beats of a song about sex.