Shapeshifting Ghost Sex?? [MF reluc]

I’m actually doing a bit of market research here. One of my authors (I’ll link to his blog in the comments) wrote this as a promotional piece for one of our other authors. It got a ton of pageviews, but zero comments. I can’t tell if it’s not sexy enough, or sexy because it’s almost all anticipation, or the antipathy between the two characters. I’m really just looking for any constructive feedback Reddit wants to give. I tried to get some similar feedback on Facebook and ended up with an alarming number of dick pics in my inbox. So…help a girl out?

The Inhuman by Reggie Barkwell

–Liset Laraña, the witch, read a magazine in her faux magic shop. To be clear, she was a real witch, with real power. Her store, however, sold intentional shams to people who didn’t know any better.

She lounged on an overly expensive beanbag chair, nestled in deep with her long arms and longer legs sticking out at sharp angles. The magazine rested in the pocket created by the calf or one leg resting perpendicularly on her knee.

She scooped the bottom corner of a page with a crimson nail, then flipped it casually with a slender finger.

Rodney watched her bring the finger to her lips, watched her lick its tip and flip again without nearly enough time to read the pages.

He stood outside the shop, bullet holes gaping in his chest, blood perpetually oozing from them–death wounds, scars from a previous life. He alarmed no one, because no one could see him on this side of life’s veil, unless he manifested on the other side–no one except for her.

Even on this side of the door to her shop; even on this side of the veil between the quick and the dead, Rodney could smell her dark magic, powerful spells that drew life from sacrificial offering and burned it like so much fossil fuel. Even in death, he felt goosebumps rise and something turn in his stomach.

He willed the shroud to part for him. It felt like the first crash of sunlight on a bad hangover morning.

Now fully present in the real world, he could feel the Vegas sun beating down, see his own bald, slightly glowing reflection in the mirror, hear the rush of cars and smell the exhaust and near-boiling black top and baking garbage and, above all those things, the smell of death magic.

Reaching out, he opened the door,stepped as far into the doorway as her wards would let him. She didn’t bother to look up when the old-fashioned silver bells tinkled.

“Liset,” he said, and immediately her eyes left the page and found him at the door. Beyond his death wounds, she marked how tenuous his hold on the world was by his dress: generic blue jeans with no discernible flair and a plain black t-shirt–he was also only about half there. If she stared hard enough, she thought she could see through him to the bright Vegas afternoon.

“I need an ask,” said Rodney.

“I’m not in the habit of giving out favors,” she replied, but did not turn away.

Rodney gestured at his translucent flesh and the bullet holes leaking ethereal blood. “You know what I need.”

“There will be a price,” she said coldly. Rodney nodded. “Then enter, Spirit.” Her voice took on a ghastly echo as she said the final command.

Rodney felt the slight pressure of the wards vanish. He stumbled in, almost fell to his knees, but caught himself on a table whose top seemed to be an inlaid ouija board.

His lip curled at the smell of death magic. His stomach would have rebelled, if he still ate.

Laraña rose from her plush seat and crossed the room, standing face to face with the black man, every bit his height. Her eyes–could Rodney see orbs of darker black within each pupil?–blinked at him, unimpressed.

Rodney reached out a hand, hooked a finger in her spaghetti strap (she wore no bra) and peeled it down her shoulder. Her skin was so white it looked almost grey, like dead ash. Rodney drew his hand back.

“I’m a person, you know,” she said in response to the disgusted look on his face.

“You are?” he asked. Then shook his head. “I need to change”.

“Do what you will, Monster.” She looked down and away. Rodney felt the hurt projected off her, but only snorted through his nose. He had been tricked into sympathy before.

All at once, dark pinpricks of non-light darkled over his brown flesh. A sleek pelt appeared of shining black fur. He grew a foot taller or more. His already muscular chest and forearms grew new layers of sinew and denser bone. When the scintillating darkness receded, his legs had grown an extra joint. His feet and hands ended in long claws. His mouth had elongated into a short, stout muzzle.

She looked at him, feeling almost the same hatred and disdain, but also a sick lust. “You’re done then, Spirit?”

“Not quite,” Rodney said in a voice all vibration and husk. Then he reached his clawed hand out and touched her cheek, running a razor talon from high, sharp cheekbone to the tip of her chin.

She looked away, demure, feeling the hot tingle of anticipation.

Following his downward motion, she bent her knees and knelt on her long legs.

In this form, he towered above her.

In this form, he could use her and not feel the self loathing after.

In this form, the sensation was everything.

–Thanks! Hope you Enjoyed it.

Play Nice | Play Farah

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/54uzcs/shapeshifting_ghost_sex_mf_reluc