再婚相手の連れ子は美人女子校生姉妹！！初めて皆で川の字で寝る事に…。明け方、年頃で可愛い妹のパジャマ がはだけ、発育途中の身体を見て欲情してしまった僕は彼女を…！！ふと横を見ると、妹と僕がSEXしている のを気づいた姉が、興奮し身体をくねらせていたので… 7
監督:
メーカー: プレステージ
ジャンル: 女子校生美乳スレンダー妹
出演者: ももき希香苗レノン関根奈美冴木エリカ
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さわやか19歳 AVデビュー 渡辺芽衣
ジャンル: 3P、4P単体作品巨乳パイズリハメ撮りデビュー作品
出演者: 渡辺芽衣
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NEW Series *** DREAM Lover ***
Chapter 1
She looked imploringly into my face as she did, and I saw that her eyes, which had been so dark in the previous dream, were actually a clear, light grey. The sense of darkness was because they were deep-set and shrouded with concern. She tugged my cock expertly as her other hand glided over my chest, stimulating my nipples just like I had felt in the meeting. She bent to kiss me, and with her face nuzzled against my neck she kept saying “Please, save me. I know you’re the one. Can you take me? Will you save me?” It was a mantra, a supplication, her voice inside my head, tinged with a need deeper than I could fathom. Something about that sense of need, and the unseen way it seemed to feed her hands on my body, infusing them with desire beyond understanding, was more erotic than I can describe. Before long, she sensed my climax approaching, and began to chant “Oh yes! Yes. I know I can reach you! Yes, yes…”
When I came, my dream-self ejaculated in a huge stream up over my chest, jet after slowly-subsiding jet. My ghostly lover milked the last drops from my cock and began rubbing the sticky, viscous mess all over my belly and chest. The last tingling sensations of my orgasm were just fading when I awoke to find I had jizzed in my underwear, and copious amounts of cum had soaked through and wet my sheets in cold spots of dampness.
Dammit! I hadn’t had a wet dream since junior high school! What the hell was happening to me???
While it was clear to me the girl from the séance, the strange physical sensations, and the girl in my dreams were all related somehow, I just couldn’t make myself believe that it was all real. I mean, I knew it was REAL – I had the load of messy sheets in the laundry even as I was thinking about this – but I didn’t accept that there might be another entity involved. A ghost. Who believes in ghosts these days? I knew something was happening, but I still thought it was coming from my own mind somehow.
I pretty much thought I was going crazy.
Now that I had dreamed of direct contact with her, my ghostly visitations became both more frequent and more overt. No more isolated feelings of fingers on my chest, or kisses from unseen lips. No more foreplay, so to speak. Oh no.
Now the girl was getting me off at every opportunity. She seemed to thrive on pleasuring me. And it was damned embarrassing and inconvenient on occasion.
I’ll give you an example. I was taking the subway train into work one day when my unseen companion decided it would be the perfect time to give me a blowjob. Like I said, no one else can see anything she does, but my erection was unmistakable as I felt the first stirrings of her touch. A young lady across from me looked at me with a withering glare, her eyes flashing lightning bolts of disapproval my way as I wriggled and squirmed to get my cock comfortable in my pants. That’s not so easy when you’re in public and can’t just reach down and rearrange your package! I ended up slipping off my jacket and throwing it over my lap, but the woman across from me seemed to think I was just going to jerk off under there, so I made sure to keep my hands in the clear. She had the hawkish, bitter face of someone who would just love to report me to the authorities for indecent exposure.
I was pretty amazed that I was able to experience such sexual pleasure under her hateful scrutiny, but I did. The feeling of soft lips and a deft tongue working over my cock soon blotted out all but the most vague awareness of the eyes on me. Not just her eyes, either. She was the only one really watching me, but the car was full. I leaned back against the gently rocking seat and let the stimulation take over. I’ve always been a very visual person, and I like to watch when a woman gives me head, so feeling my lover’s supple mouth suck me deeply in, feeling the tightness as my head penetrated the back of her throat - all this was strangely intensified by the deprivation of sight. I could feel her hand stroking and tugging at the base of my shaft in unison and in counterpoint to the wet mouth engulfing me. She sometimes stretched my skin taught, almost to the point of pain, and lightly moved her moist lips and tongue over the tight, sensitive skin. As she sensed my approaching orgasm, her hand took over in firm, rhythmic, dedicated strokes. Only occasionally did I sense her tongue flickering over my head and toying with the slit, already wet with precum. Though I couldn’t see her at all, I had the feeling she was watching my face, enjoying my expressions as I edged nearer and nearer to the brink.
At last, I teetered over the edge, cumming in great heaving waves that passed through my abdomen, emptying my balls. I came to my senses to find that we were nearly to my stop, and the woman across from me was regarding me with the horror one might reserve for a bearer of the plague. I was never unconscious or anything, but I had been totally absorbed in what I was feeling, and I could only hope I hadn’t made any obnoxious noises.
I started to put my jacket back on only to find that I had stained the front of my pants in a spreading splotch of dark wetness. I quickly held the jacket back in front of me, mortified and hoping against hope that no one else saw before I was able to cover up. I dug my cell phone out and called in to work, explaining that I had ruined my pants on the subway and needed to change before I could come in.
This would never do. I couldn’t just go around jizzing in my pants at seemingly random times. I realized I had to do something to preserve my job and keep me out of jail. Not to mention the psych ward.
So, I did the only thing I could think of. I know you’re gonna laugh, but I started wearing Depends. Yeah, yeah, I know. Adult diapers. Yuck it up.
What else could I do? I tried mind over matter. I mean, it seems like I should be able to keep from getting a woody, right? Much less, keep myself from having an orgasm. But whatever hold my visitor had over me, it seemed to override my own sense of embarrassment and self-preservation. She could make herself known and make me cum, anywhere, at any time. Honestly, I didn’t mind in some ways. But it could still be really embarrassing, even with the protection of the Depends.
She never spoke to me when I was awake, but she began to haunt my dreams more and more often, and in the dreams she did talk. Most of what she said was very cryptic and hard to understand. It dawned on me that she had an accent, one that I couldn’t place but seemed to be vaguely eastern European. I also learned her name – Elisabetta.
最強属性12 蓮実クレア
監督: CP田園
メーカー: プレステージ
レーベル: 最強属性
ジャンル: コスプレ中出し単体作品オナニー羞恥巨乳ハメ撮り美少女
出演者: 蓮実クレア
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In one evening’s dream, I asked her, “Elisabetta, why are you here? Who are you?” I watched her face cloud with concentration, trying to come up with an answer I could understand.
“I am myself, Elisabetta. I have always been. You are the one. This I know, though you are unsure. I have found you, as I knew I would. That is why I am here.”
“But, Elisabetta, what do you want from me? Why do you constantly touch me, suck me? What do you mean, I am the one? You seem to need something, but I don’t know what it is you need. Help me understand.” Without realizing it, I had fallen into her slightly old-fashioned, formal-sounding cadence.
“Do you not like the ways in which I touch you?” She seemed sad beyond measure, hopeless and lost at the thought.
I quickly answered, dread permeating the dream as I tried to reassure her, “Yes! Yes, I like the way you touch me. But you say I can save you, that I can take you. Where, Elisabetta? Where can I take you? How can I save you?”
She looked at me sadly. Her sad smile only seemed to deepen the sense of dread I was feeling, the fear that I was failing her. “If I must tell you, then I cannot be saved. To explain would be to surrender to the power of the curse. Remember, not all journeys take us to places. You can take me, but I cannot tell you where, because we are already there. It is all around us and in us, part of us. Only you can set me free.”
“I don’t understand. I want to help, but…”
She shushed me with a finger to the lips. “You may understand in time. But now…” She bent once more and took my cock in her mouth. It seemed she never tired of sucking me, in my dreams or in my waking hours.
“Elisabetta, please. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep cumming all over the place, wearing diapers to keep from messing!” Her hurt eyes cut me, made me feel ashamed for rejecting her. “Please, you make me feel incredible, but I have a life. I can’t keep doing this!”
She looked at me, and the sadness was clearly no longer simply for herself. “You do not understand. I have no will to stop. I do what I must. My freedom is your freedom. But I will try not to be such an inconvenience to you.” She smiled her sad smile, and then her brow furrowed. “Take me. Set me free. Set me free, for us both.” And she took me in her mouth again.
Her now familiar touch brought me almost unwillingly to a quick but surprisingly intense climax. She really did give the most amazing blowjobs I’ve ever felt, with sensations that electrified my being as well as my flesh. As my semen spurted, she held my cock in her mouth, letting me empty myself into her, something I realized she had never done before. When I had finished, she swallowed my seed and rose from the bed, drifting away noiselessly.
The room became lighter and lighter until I awoke, sunlight streaming through the window. The last fragments of the dream swirled in my consciousness, and I got up, expecting to have to clean up yet another mess. To my surprise, there was no mess. I puzzled over the dream, which I could remember in every detail, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Elisabetta had somehow swallowed my cum into the dream world, keeping it from spilling over into this world. The thought that there could be real interaction between these two worlds – waking and sleeping, physical and spirit – befuddled my sleepy brain, and I felt as if the floor might slope away into madness at any moment. I felt agitated and uneasy at the mysteries Elisabetta hinted at. I said before that I recognized a connection with the séance, but I was still clinging to the thought that this was all a manifestation of my own mind. If things that Elisabetta did could change things in the real world, though, that meant something entirely different. In some way, she was REAL. She was, for lack of a better term, a real ghost.
These thoughts buzzed like bees in my head, and I got ready for work like a man in a trance, trying to puzzle out what it all meant. By the time I left, I had just about convinced myself that it was really just a dream, and the only reason I didn’t have a wet dream to clean up was that I simply didn’t orgasm. I had only dreamt that I orgasmed. That seemed the only explanation that my mind could wrap around. Thus placated, I went about my day.
But I was soon to be disabused of the notion that Elisabetta was only in my head.
Just a few days after this last dream, I found myself working out at the gym. See, there was a new woman at work, and we had kind of hit it off, and I was thinking of asking her out. But I was feeling sort of soft and tubby, you know? I hadn’t been working out much since the séance misadventure because I was, well, pretty much out of my mind. So, I started hitting the weights and watching my diet, just in case something developed with this new girl, Sarah.
As I was at the bench press, grunting my way through more reps than I really ought to have done, I felt the familiar tingle of Elisabetta’s touch. I sensed urgency in the way she grabbed my balls and took me in her mouth, sucking me enthusiastically until I was hard as stone. Though I never actually saw her when I was awake, I’d begun picturing her in my mind’s eye, and I imagined her lovely blonde head bobbing on my shaft as I lay back on the bench, her grey eyes beseeching me to give her whatever it was she needed. I gave up on the barbell and resigned myself to her attention, though I was already planning a mad dash as soon as she finished with me, before the cum had time to soak through my grey sweats. I hadn’t thought to wear the Depends to the damned gym.
I noticed that the connection between us had somehow gotten stronger, because Elisabetta seemed to respond to my thoughts now, as if I were talking to her. Not that she ever stopped when I asked her to, but she did seem to try to please me and do the things I liked most. This time at the gym was the first – I remember wishing she would grab my ass and pull me to her, taking me all the way in. And, sure enough, I felt her open hands cup my behind and pull, and I felt my cock slide all the way down her throat, her chin pressed against my pubis. She began to suck me in a series of long, deep strokes, each one starting all the way at the tip of my penis and then slowly engulfing me fully. I was aware of people glancing at me, wondering why I was laying on the weight bench and not lifting, maybe even noticing my ridiculous erection, but I didn’t really care.
It didn’t take too long, with Elisabetta following my every whim, before I was about to cum. I was worried about the mess, but it was out of my hands. Once my ghostly friend decides it’s time, I’m gonna cum whether I want to or not. So I didn’t fight, and before I knew it I was heaving in climax. The people around me must have thought I was having a heart attack or something, the way I was gasping for breath. Just as I came, I felt Elisabetta take me all the way in, and she held me there as I shot my load, pumping every drop of my hot cum straight down her throat. She held me tight until my spasms passed, and then she drifted away as she always did.
I quickly sat up and started to head for the locker room, afraid of embarrassing myself with a big cum-stain on my sweat pants, but much to my surprise there was no stain. I made my way to the locker room anyway, feeling drained and ready for a shower. I was thinking about the dream in which she had swallowed my cum, and how there was no stain on the sheets. I had decided that was just a dream of an orgasm. But this time I had been awake. Could I have imagined an orgasm while I was fully awake, and yet not have ejaculated at all? Shit, I thought I must have been going totally crazy.
A funny thing happened, though. When I got to the locker room and stripped out of my clothes, there was a small pearlescent drop seeping out of my half-erect penis. I squeezed a bit and stripped out a last couple of drops of semen. I HAD ejaculated, but most all of the cum was gone. All that was left were these tell-tale droplets. Well, hell. When Elisabetta swallows, the semen disappears from this world. Or dimension. Or whatever you call it. Damn!
From that moment on, my mind did a complete shift. I never again doubted or questioned what Elisabetta was. She was a ghost, or a spirit. A ghost that, for whatever reason, had attached herself to me at the séance and was now taking every opportunity to suck or jerk me dry, and occasionally visited me in my dreams. She obviously needed something from me, too, but I didn’t know what.
There are worse problems for a guy to have, I guess…
It’s funny. Once I accepted that I was being haunted rather than going crazy, I started feeling much better about things. More normal. Who in the world regards ghosts and hauntings as normal?! Still, I stopped feeling so off kilter and just started living again. I even started dating Sarah from work.
Elisabetta’s presence made that a little tricky, obviously. I noticed, on days when I had a date planned, she would come to me multiple times a day. In fact, before my first date with Sarah, she used and abused me ten times throughout the day - three times while I was getting ready to go! I didn’t even know I could cum that often. Luckily, Sarah liked taking things pretty slow, so it didn’t cause any kind of embarrassing performance problems, but it was clear Elisabetta had an opinion about me dating. I expected her to visit me in my dreams and tell me off, but that didn’t happen. Well, not exactly. After a few weeks, she finally did come to my dreams, but she didn’t tell me off.
I’ve mentioned that we had started talking together in my dreams. That’s true, but it would be wrong to think these were just normal conversations, or that we talked about things I wanted to talk about. They were still dreams, after all, with all of a dream’s vagaries and lack of lucidity. So, the dream I had after starting to date Sarah just confused me. Elisabetta was very agitated in the dream, and it sounded like her words were filtered through cotton and fog. In fact, her appearance was really gauzy and faded, too. She kept asking me something about what I wanted, and whether I was going to save her. As always, she wanted me to take her somewhere, but I just couldn’t figure out where. At the end of the dream she was crying and asking why I didn’t want her. I tried telling her that I did want to help her, but my words sounded like gibberish, even to me. She drifted away, still crying, as I awoke. It was the first time she had visited me without touching me, and for some reason that upset me worst of all. I had the feeling once more that I was failing her. It made me sadder than I would have imagined.
It seemed clear that Sarah’s entrance into my life was having an effect on Elisabetta. In a really odd way, I felt I was cheating on her. My rational mind just couldn’t fathom choosing a ghost over a real relationship with a real woman, though, so I continued seeing Sarah. Guilt washed over me every time Elisabetta came to me – guilt that I was choosing Sarah over her, and also guilt that I was cheating on Sarah with a ghost. What a spot to be in. But life went on…
セレビッチ！～ 誘惑の完全着衣～BEST4時間
レーベル: AVSCollector’s
ジャンル: ベスト、総集編4時間以上作品着エロ
出演者: KAORI麻生希藤本紫媛今藤霧子吹石れな
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By this time, Elisabetta had learned exactly what kinds of things I liked, and I kind of think she got as excited by taking me in public places as I did. Be it a movie theater, restaurant, or meeting at work, Elisabetta was there with me. Whether just a handjob or a full scale suck-me-’til-I-explode blowjob, she always swallowed now, so I gave up on wearing the Depends. Thank goodness!
Despite my guilt at being torn between two worlds, things were moving along nicely with Sarah. I sensed that we were each feeling committed and close enough to take the relationship to the next level, and after a lovely dinner and bottle of wine at a French restaurant, we found ourselves back at my place, cuddled up on the couch. For once, Elisabetta was completely out of mind, and Sarah and I were kissing and fondling hungrily. The mood was right, the time was right – we both knew tonight would be the night we made love. I was kissing her neck and lightly caressing her breasts through the silky material of her blouse when I felt the familiar touch of Elisabetta’s fingers on my chest. Sarah must have felt me tense up, because she asked me what was wrong. I told her it was nothing, that I was just a little nervous, and she assured me she was nervous and excited, too.
We kissed again, and hands started roaming again, and sure enough, Elisabetta started going down on me. I stifled a moment’s panic, scared that Sarah would sense what was going on, but she seemed not to notice. I guess it was only natural that I should have woody, making out with such a beautiful woman. She certainly noticed, too, glancing at my bulging cock straining at my pants, and then looking directly in my eyes with undisguised lust before slipping her tongue back between my lips. I have to admit, it was an incredible sensation to be kissing Sarah’s sensuous mouth and fingering her hard nipples while feeling Elisabetta’s expert mouth on my cock. I had no idea what was going to happen when I tried to slide myself into Sarah’s pussy. Would I feel Sarah AND Elisabetta? I couldn’t imagine what that might feel like. My head whirled with excitement and lust, and I found myself giddy beyond the effects of the wine.
NEW Series *** DREAM Lover ***
Epilogue
Don’t ask me why I went, because I don’t really know. I suppose it was just because a lot of my old friends were there. I hadn’t really believed in any of that hocus-pocus garbage for a long time. The truth is, I had become jaded and cynical. I’m embarrassed to remember that we used to think we could call forth the Old Ones, using the spells from The Necronomicon. Shit, we knew even then it was just a ripoff of Lovecraft, a way to capitalize on the mythology he built, but it didn’t stop us from trying. So when Ray asked if I wanted to go to the séance (and attendant party), I only said yes out of fond memories and a desire to see some old friends. (And for the party, of course. I always did like a party.) I was kind of sad that they still dabbled in that supernatural crap, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt anything.
I sure didn’t expect this to happen.
For the longest time, I didn’t know what “this” was. I think I’ve finally figured it out, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. I’ll just try to describe things as they unfolded. Let me start with the séance…
Like I said, I hadn’t believed in anything supernatural in years. I think WANTING so much to believe, only to be disappointed over and over, contributed to how much I DIDN’T believe in the end, especially when I learned how many of the so-called psychics, mediums, and new-age-type authors where nothing but blatant charlatans preying on the gullible. I was worse than an ex-smoker or born-again Christian if you got me started! So, when I ran into Ray and he told me about the party and séance, it was a real struggle deciding whether to go. In the end, I missed my friends, and that’s what won out.
Looking back, it’s kind of miraculous that I ran into Ray when I did, and now it seems eerily coincidental that the party was happening while I was in town. I hadn’t lived there for over ten years, and I hadn’t really kept in touch with anyone, either. I was only visiting my sister for a couple of days while her husband was having surgery, so the odds seem rather long, thinking back on it now. Ray happened to see me at the gas station, and invited me. I wouldn’t even have known him if he hadn’t recognized me and spoken up. I know everyone has to be somewhere, but of all the hundreds of gas stations in the city, it seems odd. I’m reminded of Bogart in “Casablanca” - “Of all the gin joints…”
So anyway, the party was fun, and it was cool to catch up with the old crowd. Thankfully the conversation didn’t really dwell on ghosts and such, so I had a pretty good time. It wasn’t ’til late in the evening, when only a handful of people remained, that the conversation turned to the séance. I knew four of the five other guests that were attending – Ray, of course; Janey, an old girlfriend of mine who had grown big as a house but still had a little-girl giggle; Charles, the clown in our group, who always lifted everyone’s spirits (pun NOT intended) when yet another supernatural quest turned up empty; and Jeannie, who, by default, led our little band of misfits back in the old days. We weren’t really an organized club or anything. We were just a bunch of fans of the the darker literature who somehow got the idea that even the fiction we read must be grounded in some truth. We wanted to find that truth.
The fifth guest, I did not know. He was named Emmit, or some other vaguely English-sounding name I can’t quite remember, and was dressed in a waistcoat, of all things, complete with tight white trousers and a pair of tooled leather dress shoes with low heels and pointed toes.. He was nice enough, but very, shall we say, pretentious.
The woman who led the séance was Sasha. I was never really clear where she came from. It didn’t seem any of my friends knew her personally. She just seemed to be there to conduct the rituals. I had trouble not treating her with open disdain, to be honest. She dressed like a gypsy, with flowing black hair under a yellow silk scarf, big gold hoop earrings, and a skirt with more colors than I can name. She looked like some Hollywood spoof of a fortune teller, and sounded like she were trying to fit every movie cliché she knew into her spiel. I was laughing inside at the absurdity of it all, and she seemed to pick up on my skepticism. She kept mentioning that it was more difficult to communicate with the spirit world when there were “Nonbelievers” in the party, but she was a powerful medium and would do her best. I swear, every time she said “Nonbeliever,” I could see the capital letter in my mind, as if it were a title or a name rather than a description.
Anyway, the séance itself was pretty much exactly what anyone who has seen a movie that included a séance would expect. All of our hands placed flat on a round table. The room was lit only by a guttering candle near the table’s center. Thankfully, there were no crystal balls or pentagrams. The only accessories Sasha used were a vase-shaped brass incense burner and a small bone. It wasn’t even a very fancy-looking bone, not a skull or anything cool like that, but what might have been a finger bone. Or a chicken bone, for all I know. The cake of incense she used didn’t put out much of a fragrance at all, but the delicate smoke rising from the intricate holes in the burner’s body seemed to shift in color like oil on water. She used incantations that seemed to be a mix of English and what I took to be some made-up gibberish, alternately running her fingertips over the tiny bone and then laying it in the circle of light cast by the candle, each time facing a different direction.
I have to give her this – she was a hell of a show-woman. Without understanding much of what she said, we all seemed to be entranced by the cadence of her voice, the ebb and flow of energy created by her words and movements. Everyone focused on her intently, and the growing energy and excitement seemed to infuse each of us. I was able to understand enough of her monologue to gather that she was supposed to be sensing some spirit or other nearby, someone who wanted to be heard. Sasha implored us to listen, to seek out the voice of the spirit. Everyone strained to hear sounds from another world, and the tension became palpable.
The first thing out of the ordinary that I noticed was the table vibrating. Honestly, I almost laughed out loud and left at that old ruse, knowing how easy it was for a “medium” to cause movements or vibrations in the table like this. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. I think the only reason I stayed was because I didn’t want to ruin the fun for my friends.
I noticed the vibration became higher in frequency, until I could hear it as much as I could feel it. Soon it became an uncomfortable wailing in my ears, and I looked around the table to see how the others were handling it. Sasha mumbled quietly, incoherently, but with such intensity sweat was beaded on her face. Ray and Jeannie had their eyes closed, but showed no sign of feeling the same distress I was feeling. The others watched wide-eyed and intent, waiting like coiled springs for something to happen. For some reason I began to suspect that Emmit-of-the-waistcoat was in on the gag. He didn’t really look like he was up to anything, and maybe it was just because he dressed too over-the-top to be quite legitimate, but I kept trying to catch him somehow causing the ululating wail I was hearing.
As the sound crescendoed, I saw the candle flare up brightly and the smoke from the incense burner took on a phosphorescent glow. It seemed to grow thicker and more solid, and changed colors rapidly. I couldn’t believe no one else could hear the screeching, because it felt like nails were being driven into my eardrums. I felt sweat pouring from my body, and everyone seemed to take on a distorted, phantasmal appearance, like I was seeing them through old, half-melted glass. I tried to speak, but my consciousness seemed stuck in molasses and couldn’t will my voice to action. I was terrified.
I realized there were words in the mournful wailing sound I was hearing, and I strained to hear them. The voice was high, ethereal, painful to hear. Finally, the words crystallized inside my head - “Take me! Please, save me! Take me now! Oh, please!!”
It was a woman’s voice, filled with horrible, dreadful anguish. Each word was drenched in pain, drawn out in gut-wrenching cries. I didn’t know what was happening to her, didn’t know what she meant or where she needed to be taken from, but she was clearly in agony and needed help. I thought maybe I would see her in the churning, shifting smoke, but there was nothing, only her wretched cries.
I felt compelled to try and help her. I don’t know why, exactly, but the urge to help felt as strong as her need to be saved. I couldn’t speak, yet from somewhere I heard my voice, distant and almost unrecognizable.
“I’ll help you! I’ll take you! Come this way, I can help you!! I will take you!!” I heard myself beckoning to this disembodied voice, though it sounded like I was calling from miles away.
In response, the woman’s voice grew louder, exploding in my brain, “Oh yes! Take me! Oh, yes, there you are!” With the explosion of sound came an explosion of light, white and hot, like fingers of fire reaching through my body, wrapping all around me. And then, darkness.
I awoke the next morning on the couch at Ray’s place. I felt groggy and disoriented, like I was terribly hung over, though I had very little to drink. Bit by bit, memories of the séance floated into my mind like feathers settling on a dusty floor. I wondered vaguely if the incense that had no smell was actually some kind of drug. I sat up quickly, suddenly remembering that I was supposed to be at my sister’s house helping take care of my brother-in-law. Bad mistake, because my head swam and I nearly puked.
Ray called from across the room, where he was perched at a little dinette table with a cup of coffee, “Morning, sleepy head. You had quite a night. You scared us, passing out like that!”
He told me how I had blacked out during the séance, and everyone assumed I had had a little too much to drink. It seems no one else had heard any of the wailing I heard, nor had they seen the weird colors in the smoke. So much for the incense being a drug. I guess the séance just broke up after I passed out. He said I started to stand up, kind of stiff-like, and I made a groaning sound, and then I just dropped to the floor. I was breathing OK and my heartbeat was fine, so they put me to bed on the couch to let me sleep it off.
Gathering my senses, I asked ,“Ray, what time is it? I need to call Susan!”
“No worries, man, relax. We called her to let her know you were, uh, indisposed.” He grinned malevolently, “She was kind of ticked off, though. Said you were supposed to watch Jimmy today so she could go back to work.”
“Yeah,” I said, heaving to me feet, head pounding. “I have to get going.”
That whole day, I felt off. I couldn’t put my finger on it, exactly. The hung-over feeling didn’t last long, but I kept having the oddest sensations. I would be sitting there with Jimmy, watching the tube or playing cards, and all of a sudden I would feel pressure, like something pressing against me. Sometimes it was just a tingling feeling. Sometimes, things in the room just looked wrong, somehow, though I couldn’t begin to tell you what was wrong about them. I was pretty freaked out, to be honest. I wondered if someone had slipped me something, or if I’d had a stroke. I spent as much time looking in the mirror to check my pupils and make sure my face wasn’t drooping as I did looking after Jimmy. His surgery had gone fine, but he still needed someone to help him out, and I felt guilty to be so self-absorbed. But it was eerie.
When Susan got home, she said she hadn’t gotten in trouble for being late to work, so I was thankful for that. I explained to her about the séance, and that I wasn’t really drunk, but she just dismissed it, saying not to worry about it. I don’t really think she believed me, she just didn’t want to hash it over. When I tried to tell her about the weird feelings I was having today, she finally got impatient with me and reminded me that Jimmy was the one who needed help. I wanted to get mad at her, but I realized that was only because I was frightened. It wasn’t her fault.
I stayed with them a few days, as we had planned. Jimmy was getting around on his own, and there was no more risk of problems from the anesthesia or anything, so I headed back home.
Instead of getting better, the strange sensations just kept getting worse. At first they had been vague feelings of pressure, but by the time I left, it was as though I could feel something actually touching me on different parts of my body.
No, that’s not exactly right.
Not someTHING. SomeONE.
Sometimes it felt exactly as though a hand was touching my leg, or my shoulder. Sometimes I could feel a thigh pressing along the length of my own as I sat on the couch. But it was only a feeling. There was never a wrinkle in my clothing where I was touched. There was never a depression in the couch cushion next to me. It was only my flesh that seemed to be effected. Although it felt like a warm hand resting on my shoulder, there was nothing at all there when I touched the spot with my own hand.
And then there were the tingling, electrical feelings. I can’t even begin to describe these accurately. It was like a wave of sensation passing through random parts of my body, sort of like the pins and needles feeling you get when your arm goes to sleep. But not really. I just can’t describe it. The closest I can come is to say that I felt like there was movement happening, if that makes any sense. Movement through me, somehow.
I can’t tell you how many times I worried that I was going crazy, or had been slipped acid or something. There was nothing painful about it at all, but it was horrifying just the same.
Horrifying and… intriguing.
I went back to work, resumed life as normal in most every way, but the odd feelings never left. I thought about going to the doctor, but thought about how foolish I’d sound. I didn’t decide not to go, exactly. I just kept putting it off.
I realize as I’m telling all this, that you don’t really know much about me. There’s not really that much to know. I’m just an ordinary guy, for the most part. You know, moved away after college for work. I’m a chemist by trade, working for a company that makes herbicides and such. I’m always looking for a safer weedkiller. Exciting, huh?
I date a little bit, but haven’t really found anyone I want to get serious about. I’m a little bit of a loner, but I hang out with the guys and watch football on the weekends. Pretty boring, really. Like I said, I hadn’t really thought about the supernatural in years. I’m a here-and-now kind of guy. A scientist. If I can’t see it, touch it, smell it, it doesn’t exist, you know what I mean?
So this weirdness was really throwing me for a loop.
Then, after a week or so, the dreams started. Well, I should say I had the first dream. It was a pretty simple dream. It was about a woman, lost in a fog that seemed to wrap all around her no matter where she moved. She was waif-thin, with blonde hair and dark, dark eyes. Her white dress was stained around the hem, as if she had been running through the mud, and it looked as if it were from another age. Someone seemed to be following her, because she kept looking behind her and starting with fright, then hurrying on. I seemed to be some kind of disembodied spirit or something, because she was always looking up at me, like I was floating in the air. I didn’t seem to be in just one spot, because she would look in different directions, but her face always seemed to be turned towards me. You know how dreams don’t make sense. And she kept calling to me.
“Take me! Please, save me! Take me now! Oh, please!!”
I awoke, sitting up straight in the bed, gasping for breath. I felt the shadow of a weight that had been pressed against me in my sleep, pressed against the full length of my body and crushing the wind from me, though there was nothing there now. I remembered the voice from the séance, speaking the same words. I trembled all over.
Even then, I made no connection between the woman in my dream and the physical sensations I had been feeling. At least, not consciously. I mean, I knew the dream was caused by the stuff I experienced at the séance, but I’ve also dreamed about game shows I just watched. It doesn’t mean I’m haunted by the astral projection of Pat Sajak, right?
Though I didn’t realize it right away, the physical experiences changed in nature after that dream. I no longer just felt a brush on the arm or a hand on my thigh. The touches seemed to take on a decidedly sexual nature. I was in traffic one morning, heading for work, and I damn near swerved into oncoming traffic when I felt a hand cup my balls and give a gentle squeeze. I was sitting in a meeting the next afternoon, trying not to let my eyes roll back into my head, when I felt my nipples being rubbed until they were hard, and then pinched and pulled! I was so alarmed I looked down to see if my shirt was moving. Unbelievably, my shirt just sat there like it didn’t know a thing, although my nipples were clearly perky. I futzed with my tie and held my coffee in front of my face until the feeling went away, but my ears burned the rest of the meeting.
The weirdest sensation of that week – a transition week, I’ve come to think of it – was when I was at my buddy Kurt’s house watching a game, and I had the distinct feeling of being kissed. Not just a little peck on the lips, either. Oh no. I felt a long, lithe, and slender tongue probing my mouth, teeth nibbling my lips and sucking on them, the whole deal. I had that same feeling of panic I had in the meeting, the thought that anyone could see what was happening to me. At one point Kurt looked over and asked if I wanted another beer, but if he noticed anything, he didn’t say a word. And if you knew Kurt, you would know that I’d never hear the end of it, had he seen anything. Nice guy, but he still has the mentality of a high school jock sometimes. Any hint that I was puckering like a fish because I was kissing some ghostly lover would have brought down scorn and ridicule on my head like you wouldn’t believe. Thank goodness, whatever I was feeling, wasn’t showing.
It was a bit of a learning process, figuring out what other people could and couldn’t see. But that comes later…
After a week or so of what could only be described as foreplay, I had another dream visitation. This dream was what finally made me realize that the girl in my dreams was, in fact, connected with the physical symptoms I had been having since the séance. What can I say? I’m a slow learner.
In this dream, she was no longer running, but she was still ethereal and fragile-looking. Her blonde hair floated about her face as if she was underwater. She spoke to me with urgency and passion, but not so much fear this time. I couldn’t understand, or can’t remember, most of what she was saying, but at least part of it had to do with thanking me, and telling me she knew I was the one, she knew. She kept saying that, and I got the feeling I was supposed to do something, help her in some way, but I couldn’t understand how. And then, she kissed me. I knew right away this was the same person who had kissed me, unseen, while I watched the football game at Kurt’s. She pushed me gently down on my back, where I seemed to float in a room with no defined features, only glowing light. As I lay there, she moved her hands over my body, my chest, and down to my groin. I felt the now-familiar cup of her hand around my balls, and then she took my cock in her hand and began to stroke me.