To Haunt A Heartbeat #3
As disturbing as the details of what happened are, what’s more troubling is the images that came up in search.
Not the gruesome ones. The happy ones. The ones that depicted what happened before the tragedy.
There is a man, objectively handsome, appearing rich, with a child, who couldn’t be much older than our sonwas when he passed.
The thought brings nausea to my system, yet that still isn’t the most disturbing part.
Chills creep down my back as I stare at the woman. She’s beautiful – sad – but beautiful with the same haunting look I remember when I saw her at the lake.
I slam my laptop closed.
It can’t be.
My hands clasp not my forehead, and I rise to my feet, panicking.
Am I losing my mind?
Is the grief and sadness finally clouding my sense of reality?
Feeling an eerie sense of foreboding wreaking havoc on my system I feel the need to get fresh air but being that was where I saw her, I think that’s probably not the best idea.
Feeling like I want to crawl out of my skin, I pace the room, until I decide that I need to take a bath to calm myself.
I run the water, and the second my clothes hit the floor, I hope that maybe once I submerge myself in the warm bathwater, she will return to me, like at the lake.
The tension that’s taken hold of my body loosens, and the longer I sit in the water, the more turned on I feel.
Like a moth to a flame my hand finds my center.
Thoughts of the other night, motivate me to recreate the feeling she caused.
Even if it was only in my imagination. It’s been so long since I have experienced another’s touch, and although the hand swirling my clit is my own, I welcome the pleasure I’ve been so deprived of.
I work up to my finish. Craving it like a remedy. Just as I’m about to lose myself to the wave of ecstasy, the bath water vanishes within a blink of an eye, and she, whoever she is, appears.
Scars mar her skin, especially near her lower abdomen.
She lowers to her knees. At first, I assume it’s to be closer to be my center but before I know it, I’m whisked up into her arms and at the speed of lightning we are no longer in the bathroom but in bed.
My back lays flat on the mattress and she wastes not even a second to have my legs spread for her.
“Miss me?” she whispers with an unmistakable smirk.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Legs straddling mine she begins to wind her hips, grinding her cold, very wet pussy onto my thigh.
Her arousal sends an electrical current throughout my body and my skin to pebbles in response. With each pass she makes grinding on my leg, I feel the uncontrollable urge to relief the throbbing pressure building at the apex of my thighs.
I place my hand at my wet heat, but she gently swats it away, clicking her tongue.
“I have something better,” she says with confidence as she shifts up my thigh until her cunt is kissing mine and she has my left leg in her possession, draping over her shoulder.
“I-I-“ I begin to stutter and the grin she had from before widens. Sensing my uncertainty, she peppers kisses onto my cheek.
“Let me guess, you haven’t done this before,” she murmurs.
I nod my head.
“Neither have I,” she says through a cackle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Well, I half lied. I’ve been between many woman’s legs, but that was when I was…”
“Alive?” I interrupt her.
Now it’s her turn to nod her head.
“In a way this is new for both of us.”
“That makes me feel better,” I say, and it does.
“Good. So now can I fuck you? I want to be the one to make you feel better.”
A million questions swarm my head. There so much I want to ask her.
Like how I can see her. How I can feel her so intensely.
And what that all means for me. But I already know the answer.
Since I was little this has been my burden, seeing, feeling, hearing those who are no longer here.
My mom and dad said I was cursed, and for the longest time I thought I was but right now, how can I be cursed if I’m feeling the best I’ve ever felt sexually in my entire life.
Her grip tightens on my leg, and she bites and kisses it as our centers glide against each other. Slow, attentive, grinding thrusts bring my body to life as I feel an orgasm begin to build with an intensity I’ve never experienced before.
The closer I get the colder she becomes.
I feel it cresting.
I’m.
So.
Close.
The wave begins and my pussy begins to leak, squirting my arousal forward as repeated pulse after pulse ravages me.
My eyes close, holding onto the bliss of relief for as long as I can because I know – I sense – that once I open my eyes, we’ll no longer be in bed.
Sure enough, my intuition is correct, for when I open my lids, we are no longer naked in bed together, we’re fully clothed in front of Gavin’s door.
My lips part, but her frail, cold hand covers my mouth.
“Ssh, they’ll hear you,” she warns letting go of me.
I flip around.
“Who?”
“Your husband and…” she stops herself. “You know who. Don’t you?”
I want to say no. I want to believe my suspicions are wrong. But I know in my heart that they’re not.
“His mistress,” I say so bluntly that it makes my heart skip a beat. Not like I’m in any position to talk, confusing as it is, whatever this is between this woman I know to be a ghost, I’ve cheated all the same.
I hear rustling from the other side of the door and she grabs me, pulling me back into another room so fast, that I feel dizzy.
Sitting on the bed, she points to the closet telling me to open it.
I do as she says and when I see the bag on the floor, the same bag Gavin bought in, my stomach drops. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before, but now that I’m staring at it, it’s clear as day that it doesn’t belong to him.
“Did you put it there?”
“No,” she shakes her head, and sadness glosses her irises, making me believe her.
“Open it,” she demands, voice gentle yet firm.
I bend to open it, but the monogram stitched into the center of the bag stops me in my tracks as I piece together where I’ve seen this bag before.
“You need to open it,” she repeats. This time her voice blooms to that of urgency.
It’s then that she grabs me, planting a kiss onto my lips that spreads heat to my entire body. Not letting up on my lips, she pulls back enough to speak but not enough that her mouth leaves mine.
“Close your eyes, I have to show you something.”
I do as she says, and when I close my lids she resumes kisses me.
Somehow, despite our lips being entangled in one another’s I hear her voice, speaking like before except this time it sounds to be a spell in Spanish spoken over me.
Protection, sight, and the future all bleed through the chant and before I know it, my mind is transported to the grief counselor’s office.
Except it’s not during one of our sessions, it’s Gavin talking to our therapist, while she’s on her knees with his cock in her mouth.
“She’ll never see it coming. The cabin is booked, all you have to do is bring the supplies we discussed since I can’t buy them it’ll look too obvious if it shows up on my credit card, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
I open my eyes, but the vision doesn’t go away, it continues, playing in my mind like a movie.
They continue touching each other, talking about their plans and it becomes obvious that us coming here had little to do with healing and more as a ploy to get rid of me.
“Enough!” I whine, and she stops kissing me.
The vision ceases, and my lids spring open.
“What was that?” I ask her.
“A gift. The gift of premonition. Something that I wish I had before my time came.”
“What do I do with it?”
Her expression teeters between endearing and sinister.
“What do you want to do with it?”
All I can think about is what I want to do with her – to her.
As unexplainable as it is, she has been the only ray of hope I’ve felt lately. Maybe it’s because she made me feel good for the first time in too long or maybe it’s because my soul feels like hers – broken, lost, hurting.
I stare at her and drop to my knees, positioning myself at her center. Lifting her dress, I place a kiss on her cunt before I peer up at her.
“Are all the tools they bought still in there?”
She nods, breathless.
My tongue extends dragging a lick up her slit.
“Do you want to help me after I help you get off?”
Her chest hitches, excited. Now it’s her turn to whimper. “Yes.”
Tongue no longer teasing her I dive into her sex, thinking how beautiful she will look helping me get my revenge.
This trip was about healing.
Though how am I supposed to heal when Gavin and our therapist were plotting to kill me?
It feels unfair, him getting his way, and me just lying dead in a grave with no story to tell.
Breaking the seal my mouth has on her pussy I peer up at her. “Is there a way that I can haunt…with you?”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation.
“Make me come like a good girl, and I’ll end you however you choose, so you can be with me.”
Satisfaction grips me as I resume licking her pussy.
Soon I won’t just see the dead, I’ll be one amongst them.
Hope spring at my chest.
Maybe then I can be reunited with those I’ve lost.
And then I can haunt the heartbeat of the one who doesn’t believe in what lies on the other side of the veil.
But I’ll make a believer out of him.
Just wait and see.