Once a poonanny upon a tit, i was on a ghostcunting expedition on milcauke, north carolina. My name is Bob Hardstone. I aims to please, men and women, but more about that later. Me and some of my ghost hunting homies that I met at the gathering of the Juggalos have discovered the truth; that ghosts are real…and so is cum. And ectoplasm is just ghost cum. You said your first sexual experience was with a ghost. No, I didn’t. Yeah, you did. On the first Beach Cops. It was a dark and stormy night. We had all of our ghost cunting equipment: an analred thermometer, motion censors, cameras, an EMF detector, and of course, a copy of Penthouse Letters, our favorite Pube-lick-cation…for when the ghosts weren’t biting. I met my friends at the old Cumfederate Cum-cemetery. They say that if you fuck in there…that your cum will come to life and crawl back into your balls with chains. Marcy told us that there was a ghost there. THey say that if you put your cum in the ground, the ghost will suck it. Or, if you’re a lady and you squat over the grave, he’ll fuck you. But, it feels cold and empty. In our group, was Pookie, the 500 pound psychic, who made us pay him in hamburgers. Then, there was Trixy, a beautiful trans woman, who sucks a mean dick and preys upon tourists to the Florida area. We had Janet, a housewife, who had an interest in the macabre, and was looking to spice up her boring, sexless life. She also had a weird fascination with Andrew, a local boy, who drew naked pics of his teachers and was known around town for his bad boy good looks and easy access boners.