As a semi-professional gay Spiritist, folks call me up all the time to investigate paranormal activity in their homes. Most of the time the situation can be chalked up to leaky pipes, creaking floorboards, and faulty machinery, but every now and then I’ll encounter and actual specter, and I usually fuck them. Or they’ll fuck me. Or we’ll do a sort of swapsies and each take a turn fucking the other. Why do I do this? For starters, it’s an out of this world experience. Ghosts can contort their bodies into shapes a human might never even dream about, which has led to many amazing fuck sessions in the past. Imagine a cock that’s able to lengthen or shorten at will, not to mention changing in texture. Ribbed perhaps? Well fuck me, yes please. Oh, and also sometimes ghosts are harboring latent gay desires that they need to work out before moving on. This is a story about one of those.
One morning I was called out to an investigation across town at this old two-story house that was broken up into smaller apartments. Folks in the building had been complaining about unexplainable noises at odd hours of the night. Maintenance for the building had already been called out more than once and the landlord just blamed it on an old building. The dude who called me, however, felt it was something more.
For the past couple of weeks, he’d been waking up in the middle of the night, usually around 2am, to the sensation of something gently massaging his puckered asshole as he slept. The first night, the dude found himself in the midst of a sexy dream, so sexy he boned up almost immediately. He related to me over the phone that in the dream he had visited this hot professor he had during his office hours. It was one of those dreams where you immediately recognize you’re dreaming and immediately want to fuck something. While his professor talked about his most recent term paper, the dude stripped off all his clothes, throwing them into a pile near the wall, then crawled up onto the professor’s desk. “My God! What are you doing?” the stern yet really fucking hot professor exclaimed, removing his glasses in one swoop.
“C’mon, you know you want me,” the dude replied, pulling at his hardening, uncut cock.
The professor smiled and had the dude turn around and bend to all fours, still on top of his large oak desk. He gently separated the dude’s plumb ass cheeks, revealing a tight, puckered asshole. He plunged his mustached face between the dude’s cheeks and began flicking his tongue lightly across the fleshy opening, which responded to the sensation by twitching open then closed.
Still on the phone, I was beginning to chub up in my pants from the dude’s story. He finished by saying the sensation he was feeling in the dream suddenly became too real, like when you dream yourself peeing then feel yourself actually peeing. Maybe no one else has experienced that? Anyhow, the dude woke up from the shock of his hands-free orgasm as rope after rope of hot cream spewed from his donger and onto the bed sheets. He struggled to catch his breath, but the flicking and licking sensation in his butthole continued. He suddenly realized this sensation was no dream. He spun around in bed, slinging cum from his still leaking rod across the bed. No one was there.
I knew immediately that what we were dealing with was a disembodied entity of the horny variety. This sort of sexual haunting couldn’t continue. While the dude related to me that he’d grown to enjoy the nightly visits, he still felt concerned about the ghost and why it chose to linger. I reassured him that I’d get to the bottom of this haunting.
The next morning, I found myself at the old mansion. The dude who hired me had left a key underneath a flowerpot near the front entrance to the building. I entered and wandered until I found the dude’s apartment. Inside, it felt like the room of any other gay collegegoer who occasionally enjoyed a good rimjob. I pulled the shades closed and lit a couple candles for ambiance. Then I repeated the words I always use to summon a spirit to manifest themselves to me. “C’mon out now. I won’t hurt you. C’mon out, you horny bastard.”
Soon I heard a strange noise above me. The ceiling fan had clearly been off and motionless when I entered the room but was now spinning slightly. A lamp nearby flickered with an electric fizzing sound. “There you go, c’mon out and fuck me,” I repeated, unbuttoning my flannel shirt and throwing it over onto the couch. The lamp flickered again. “That’s right, you give me a sign and I’ll take off more!”
I heard a moan from inside the circuit breaker box on the wall nearby. I slowly unbuttoned my jeans then dropped the zipper, revealing the top of my tight briefs. The moan repeated, louder this time. I shimmied my jeans down toward the tops of my old leather boots then grabbed at my package and squeezed it gently. “You want this awesome donger, ghost?” I asked coyly.
The breaker box door flew open and smacked against the wall leaving a slight scuff in the paint. A pale blue light appeared from out of the circuits, growing bigger and bigger in front of me until a form manifested. He was in his mid-thirties, if I had to guess, with short cropped brown hair. He had a thicker build, half muscle, half pudge, my favorite combination. He wore a dark blue jumpsuit that he had unzipped almost all the way down to his bulging package. He scratched at his stubbly face and smiled, while his other hand traced a circle around his pierced left nipple. “I’m Ted,” he said in a deep, smooth voice. “Wanna fuck?”
I quickly dropped my underwear down on top of my jeans around my ankles and waddled closer to this hot ghost electrician. His chest was scruffy like his face. I ran my hand across it then squeezed his left nipple gently. Below, I saw his wild pubes sticking out from the open jumpsuit. I wondered what was lower. While I worked his nipple with one hand, I let my other drop through the forest of pubes and find the ghost’s cut schlong. “A nice size,” I said, gently massaging the cock. “Perfect for my asshole.”
The ghost grunted and turned me around. He pulled me closer, letting his hard rod rest in between my ass cheeks. I gasped as his hand worked my own cock and his tongue flicked in and out of my ear. I felt him push me forward a little. I took the hint and got down on all fours, relaxing my arms across the seat of a leather recliner nearby. I looked behind me as the ghost undressed quickly, letting his coveralls fall down around his ankles but not removing them completely. He dropped to his knees and quacking moved in behind me. His ghost body produced a healthy amount of ectoplasmic lube on his moderately-sized cock. I felt the head of his cock gently press against my sphincter. I relaxed into the chair that supported me and let the ghost’s meat slip into my ass passage with ease. I grabbed at the chair, grinding my cock into the soft upholstery. The ghost found his rhythm as he began pounding into my ass. With each thrust, his cockhead found my prostate and my own rod found the chair. As his speed increased, I knew I wouldn’t last long. By the sounds the ghost was making I reckoned he wouldn’t be either. I upped the stakes and squeezed my ass as hard as I could, sending myself and the ghost over the edge. I felt a familiar tingling in my prostate as I suddenly came into the cushion of the chair. Rope after rope was jettisoned from deep inside me. Five, six, seven…and the counting continued. Ted couldn’t hold back any longer. He suddenly heaved forward and I felt his pulsing cock fill my guts with his ectoplasmic jizz.
We both collapsed onto the floor, still dizzy from our above-average fuck session. Ted turned me onto my stomach gently and began cleaning his own cum out of my ass. He sucked and licked it out, making me writhe in pleasure on the carpet. Finished with his task, he stood and returned his jumpsuit to its normal position. “Fuck me, that was good,” he said with a grin. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“First time, I reckon?” I asked as I pulled myself up, using the coffee table for support.
The ghost nodded and even through his pale blue skin I could tell he was blushing. “Couldn’t accept myself in life, you know.”
“Buddy, I get it. I see a lot of ghosts in your situation. But look, you can go around licking everyone’s asshole that you meet, alright?”
Ted looked down in shame. “I know, I know. He did like it though, right?”
“Well, yes, he did, but that’s not the point. Ghosts and mortals hardly ever work out as a real relationship. Do you think you can move on now?”
Ted breathed in deeply and nodded. His body began to dissolve into a bright light. He waved and gave me a cheeky grin as he completely disappeared.
“Another job well done,” I said, cleaning the quickly drying semen off my body with a pillow.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gvy1wu/porked_in_the_ass_by_the_ghost_of_an_electrician