Short sex stories

Sex stories




Halloween: She Didn't See Him Coming

I had just bought a house in a small Western town. It was a brand new, one story house, built on top of a block of stores that had burned down in the 1970's. After I had moved in, I tried to find out exactly what it was built on top of. No one could tell me for sure, it was either a farm store, hat shop, or a barber shop.

I had become the town's school teacher for the few students in 8th grade. It was summer time but I was planning lessons and working late one night, when I heard a strange noise in the kitchen. I walk into the kitchen and there is nothing there, so I go back to my lessons.

The next night, as I climb into bed, I hear noise in the kitchen again. I check it out, and again, nothing.

All is quiet for several months, when it starts up again. I'm sometimes afraid of the dark, but not afraid of ghosts. I've had a couple of medium experiences but prefer not to talk to the dead.

After tucking myself in for the night, I feel someone get on the bed and lie next to me. I turn, but there's no one there, but just in case, I say to the darkness,

"Hi. I don't know who you are, but you are welcome to stay here with me."

There's no sound, no movement. I shrug my shoulders, and go to sleep.

A few days go by, and the same thing happens, the feeling someone is next to me. I say

"Goodnight, whoever you are."

A few quiet days, then I hear noise again, this time from the living room.

"Hello? Anyone there?" No answer, of course.

The summer goes by with assorted noises and the feeling that someone is with me, but I don't feel it's anything to be frightened over.

School starts and I settle into my teaching role and learn how bright the kids are. We make it to winter break and I have plans to go home, back East. A storm was headed our way so I decide to get to the airport early. I gather my things and double-check for my tickets. They aren't where I put them. Where could they be? I hunt all over for them, wasting valuable time. I give up, and resign myself to having to buy them at the gate. At least my reservation is in the system.

I put on my coat and head out the door, right into a blizzard. Oh no! I groan. I waited too long. There's no way I can drive in this; the airport is 20 miles away. I close the door and take off my coat, put away my things.

The lights flicker, once, twice, then go completely off. Great. I feel my way around, not really familiar with my house yet, not in the dark anyway. I grope my way to the junk drawer and pull out a flashlight. I find the candles I use for dinners and light them, one in each room.

I've got enough batteries for the flashlight, but the candles may not last, so I blow out ones I'm not using. I change into my jammies and robe, and settle into my easy chair with my flashlight and a good book.

I can hear the wind blowing and a draft comes down the chimney. It's getting chilly. A fire would be nice. I stack some wood and light the fire. It flares and catches and throws a golden glow over the room.

I sit back down and pick up my book. Hmm, the page isn't the one I ended on. It's flipped ahead several chapters, to a steamy love scene. Must've been the wind.

I settle in and read. I don't realize how long I've been reading until a cramp attacks my foot. I stir and go into the kitchen to make some tea. It's a gas stove so I can cook at least. While I'm steeping the teabag, my mind is blank, just watching the teabag, when I feel a soft brushing across the back of my neck. Oh! I reach to brush off whatever it is... hope it's not a spider!

I sit and sip my tea, staring at the fire. You know how fires cast shadows that dance? I swear I saw one move from one side of the room to the other. Must be my imagination. With nothing to do in the silence, my mind wanders to the last time I was at home. I had broken up with my boyfriend after I caught him cheating with my cousin. It was a bad scene. I miss him, but I mostly miss the sex we had. He was wild, and he brought it out in me. We first joined a swingers group, but we both got too jealous. We tried boy/boy and girl/girl. I liked it more than he did, but we quit that too. Now here I am, a spinster school teacher in a West that isn't wild anymore.

Again, I feel a brush across the back of my neck. Drafts.

I take myself to bed and huddle under the covers. I feel someone beside me again. I feel a sudden rush of loneliness and roll into the imaginary body. I feel nothing. Just as I'm drifting off to sleep, I feel a hand softly brushing my hair. So gentle, so soft, I'm not sure it's there as I fall asleep.

I wake later on, when it's very cold in my room, I take my blankets and pillow to the fire, stoke it up, and curl up in front of it. I feel a body behind me, spooning me. I snuggle backwards and arms seem to enfold me. I sigh and drift off to sleep.

The snowy whiteness glows behind my eyelids, when I feel something sticking in my back, much like Joe's cock in the morning. No. It couldn't be, I'm dreaming. I slowly reach behind me and for a split second, I feel a cock in my hand then it's gone. God, girl, you're desperate.

I make myself get up and see what the day is like. The blizzard is over and there's a couple feet of snow. Not so bad for the West. I go get dressed, automatically reaching for the light switch. Hey, it' back on! I quickly change as it's so cold. I make oatmeal and coffee and sit at the kitchen table. I feel something brush my cheek, like a light kiss. I'm beginning to believe I have a ghost, a nice gentleman ghost. Not sure who he is though.

Once I'm fed, I go out and shovel. It's light fluffy stuff so it's easy and I'm soon back in the house, warming in front of the fire.

Since I can't go back home, I have nothing to do. Don't want to work on lessons, this is vacation after all, so I decide to write down my experiences in the house.

I turn on the computer and just start writing. As I'm typing, I feel a hand on my arm. Now, when I say I feel it, it's more of an awareness, a sensing. It's cold and I shiver but it doesn't seem to deter him. My fingers fly over the keyboard and my story comes to life. As I'm typing, a letter appears where I did not type it. I go back and delete it. A few lines later, another letter appears. Okay, I think he's trying to communicate.

I open a blank document and type, "Hi. My name is Sally. I come from Boston and I'm here teaching school. What's your name?"

I take my hands off the keyboard, waiting.

Slowly, being probably a one-finger typist, he taps out, "Hi. My name is Jim. I was born here. Your house sits on my land, where I had a shop."

"What kind of shop did you have?

I wait, no response. It's possible he used up all his energy at once. Later maybe we can try again.

The afternoon rolls on and I stretch and realize it's time for dinner.

"Jim, I'm going to make dinner. You're welcome to join me."

When my casserole is done and I sit at the table, I feel Jim is beside me. I reach out to touch him but he touches me first. He puts his hand on my knee.

"Oh, so you're a frisky ghost!" I laugh. He pulls away.

"No, no, it's okay, I don't mind." His hand comes back, and stays there while I eat.

"I have to do dishes now, okay?" I stand at the sink and I feel him behind me. I find it hard to do the dishes while he's there, and he senses this. I feel his hands on my hips. I ignore it. His hands move to my butt and squeezes. I yelp!

"You surprised me, you little devil."

I turn into his arms, I assume, and I feel him pull me closer. Chilly lips land on my own. I'm kissing a ghost! He pries my mouth open and Frenches me. I can't imagine what this must look like to anyone watching. Hmmm, I can't get enough of his kiss. As cold as his lips and tongue are, it's arousing. I try to push him away, my hands touching something not solid but not quite air either.

"Slow your roll there, cowboy. We hardly know each other."

I feel him withdraw. "Jim, I'm not mad, I just want to take it slow. It's not every day I meet a ghost, much less kiss one."

He leaves me alone the rest of the night.

In the middle of the night, I wake to feel his cock in my back again.

"Jim, do you always have a hard-on?" His hand comes around and squeezes my breast. Hmmm. I feel cool breath on my neck as he nibbles my ear.

"You are such a horny devil, aren't you? Well, it's been a long time for me too."

I roll over to face him, though I'm looking at a bookcase. I try to touch him. This time, he reaches for my hand and puts it to his face.

"Since I can't see you, I'm going to close my eyes and imagine, okay?"

My hand on his face nods yes. I close my eyes and run my hands on his body, feeling his face, neck, chest. Do I really feel chest hair? I slide down to his belly and stop there, teasing him.

"Now, Jim, you do the same to me."

I remove my hand and I feel his icy touch as he caresses my face, neck, stops to play with my tits.

"Jim, later, move on."

He smoothes down my tummy to my pubes.

"We both feel good, don't' we." I feel him shift and come closer. He kisses me again, kisses all over my face, tongue in my ear. It tickles! Then he's Frenching me again. He's an excellent kisser. After thoroughly bruising my mouth, his kisses travel to my breasts. You haven't felt anything until a ghost kisses and bites your tits with this icy mouth. I was going nuts!

"Jim, you are such a good lover."

He moves down my stomach to kiss my mound. I feel his icy fingers ply my lips apart and kiss my pussy. He licks, and sucks and I'm dripping juices. I instinctively put my hands down to hold his head to my pussy. I feel icy fingers slide in and slowly finger fuck me. His mouth sucks on my clit and I cum!

"Oh, Jim. Please, please!"

He knows I want it, but I feel that he shifts again. His knees straddle me and I feel his cock at my lips. I put my hand up to hold it to me and I begin to lick and suck him. Again, I can't imagine what it looks like to an outsider. I feel Jim's hand on my head, holding me and fucking my mouth. He pulls out before he cums.

As he slides down my body, I feel a hand hold my head and he kisses me again, soft, lovely kisses,. He shifts again and I feel my legs being spread apart. His icy cock is poised at my entrance, hesitating.

"Jim, it's okay, I want this too."

He plunges in and begins moving. I look down at myself and see my lips moving in and out by this invisible cock. It's incredibly hot. Jim moves faster, and slower, giving me time. He reaches to tweak a tit, suck one, kiss me, before he pulls my hips to him and raises my legs over his shoulders. He goes deeper and harder and faster and it feels incredible! I'm meeting him thrust for thrust. His hand rubs my clit in circles and I'm bucking and cuming.

"Jim, yes!" He slams into me a few more times and cums himself. Jim rolls off me and we hold each other until morning.

I wake and feel that I'm alone. I miss him already, but he is probably somewhere regaining strength to appear again later.

I talk to him throughout the day, whether he's there or not. I don't get any response. I'm alone that night too. I sleep alone, that night, and the next.

Vacation is half over and I haven't felt Jim since that wonderful night. You're falling in love with a ghost. Girl, you're going to end up in the looney bin.

The next few nights, he doesn't come to me but I hear lots of odds noises, movements. He's doing something, but I can't see it.

I'm working on my computer one day, writing again, when the odd letter comes up again. I open our document and type, 'Sounds like you've been busy, Jim. What are you up to?"

One by one the letters appear. "Come to the garage at midnight. I'll show you."

"Why so late?"

"I'm strongest at midnight and it's a special power night."

"Okay, see you then."

I work through the day and take a break at dinner. I can't wait to see what Jim is doing. I set the alarm for 11:45p, so I'm not too sleepy for this.

The alarm goes off. I put on my robe, and find my way to the garage. It's a finished two-car garage that's heated so it's warm in there. I spot a puddle of snow in a corner near the automatic door.

I feel Jim's arms move me to the center of the other side of my car and backs me up, pushes me to sit. I sit in an invisible chair. I run my hands around it, trying to feel what type of chair it is. I don't quite know. I see a cape fly from a shelf and it's tied around my neck.

"Ah, I get it. You are the barber whose shop burned down. So my house sits atop your shop. I always wondered but couldn't find out."

I see a piece of paper float to a table, followed by a pencil. Scratching tells me he has enough power to write. The paper floats over to me and I read, "Yes. I loved being a barber and miss it in this life. Would you mind if I barber you?"

I tell Jim, "No, of course not. I'm not afraid of you, nor am I going anywhere. I'm here for whatever you need from me, whether it's loving or cutting hair." The paper and pencil fly up in the air joyously, and I laugh.

I see scissors and comb float over to me. The comb goes through my hair and the scissors trim some off the bottom. Of all the strange sights I've seen at this house, seeing my hair invisibly cut has to be near the top.

Jim is very good. He's soon given me a trim and I look good. I admire myself in the mirror.

"Good job, Jim. You're hired." I swear I hear a faint laugh.

The paper and pencil are picked up, and the paper is being written on again, "I'm not done yet."

Being invisible has its drawbacks.

"Jim, I can see the clippers behind your back, ya know." Another faint laugh.

"This must be some powerful night if you can hold those and use them." They turn on in response.

He bends my head down and I feel the clippers on my neck, shearing hair from my neck. Several passes and I'm turning on from the buzzing.

"Jim, do you have any idea what you are doing to me?" Faint laugh again.

He shaves more hair off and I feel the blade. I moan. Another pass and I can't help but move my hips. They change sound and I feel the buzzes on my skin.

"Jim, you're making me wet."

In response, I feel the clippers deeper on my neck with each pass. He clicks them off, puts them down and combs my hair. I feel his icy hand on the back of my neck where the hair used to be. He turns the chair towards the mirror, and gives me a hand mirror. He lets me look at my new haircut, and then lifts the back of my hair.

"Jim, I love it! A bob with undershave. You are good!"

I see the cape moved off to the side, and the ties on my robe undone. Jim then pulls me to the edge of the chair and I feel his cock push inside me. I laugh,

"You sure have an advantage over me, don't you. You can see me and find my places. How am I ever going to surprise you?"

A faint laugh turns to kisses as he fucks me in the chair and we cum together.

I live in that house for years, until the years force me to go to a home. I never married. I saved money on haircuts. I loved a ghost.

When the new owner of the house comes to claim the keys, and I take one last look around, I tell the woman, "You will live in this house, you will love in this house. You won't be alone. Be good to him and he will be good to you." I leave her with a puzzled look on her face.

A year after I tell her that, she visits me in the nursing home. "I just had to say thank you. Thank you for the house, and especially, thank you for him." I smile at her. "I love your haircut."I had just bought a house in a small Western town. It was a brand new, one story house, built on top of a block of stores that had burned down in the 1970's. After I had moved in, I tried to find out exactly what it was built on top of. No one could tell me for sure, it was either a farm store, hat shop, or a barber shop.

I had become the town's school teacher for the few students in 8th grade. It was summer time but I was planning lessons and working late one night, when I heard a strange noise in the kitchen. I walk into the kitchen and there is nothing there, so I go back to my lessons.

The next night, as I climb into bed, I hear noise in the kitchen again. I check it out, and again, nothing.

All is quiet for several months, when it starts up again. I'm sometimes afraid of the dark, but not afraid of ghosts. I've had a couple of medium experiences but prefer not to talk to the dead.

After tucking myself in for the night, I feel someone get on the bed and lie next to me. I turn, but there's no one there, but just in case, I say to the darkness,

"Hi. I don't know who you are, but you are welcome to stay here with me."

There's no sound, no movement. I shrug my shoulders, and go to sleep.

A few days go by, and the same thing happens, the feeling someone is next to me. I say

"Goodnight, whoever you are."

A few quiet days, then I hear noise again, this time from the living room.

"Hello? Anyone there?" No answer, of course.

The summer goes by with assorted noises and the feeling that someone is with me, but I don't feel it's anything to be frightened over.

School starts and I settle into my teaching role and learn how bright the kids are. We make it to winter break and I have plans to go home, back East. A storm was headed our way so I decide to get to the airport early. I gather my things and double-check for my tickets. They aren't where I put them. Where could they be? I hunt all over for them, wasting valuable time. I give up, and resign myself to having to buy them at the gate. At least my reservation is in the system.

I put on my coat and head out the door, right into a blizzard. Oh no! I groan. I waited too long. There's no way I can drive in this; the airport is 20 miles away. I close the door and take off my coat, put away my things.

The lights flicker, once, twice, then go completely off. Great. I feel my way around, not really familiar with my house yet, not in the dark anyway. I grope my way to the junk drawer and pull out a flashlight. I find the candles I use for dinners and light them, one in each room.

I've got enough batteries for the flashlight, but the candles may not last, so I blow out ones I'm not using. I change into my jammies and robe, and settle into my easy chair with my flashlight and a good book.

I can hear the wind blowing and a draft comes down the chimney. It's getting chilly. A fire would be nice. I stack some wood and light the fire. It flares and catches and throws a golden glow over the room.

I sit back down and pick up my book. Hmm, the page isn't the one I ended on. It's flipped ahead several chapters, to a steamy love scene. Must've been the wind.

I settle in and read. I don't realize how long I've been reading until a cramp attacks my foot. I stir and go into the kitchen to make some tea. It's a gas stove so I can cook at least. While I'm steeping the teabag, my mind is blank, just watching the teabag, when I feel a soft brushing across the back of my neck. Oh! I reach to brush off whatever it is... hope it's not a spider!

I sit and sip my tea, staring at the fire. You know how fires cast shadows that dance? I swear I saw one move from one side of the room to the other. Must be my imagination. With nothing to do in the silence, my mind wanders to the last time I was at home. I had broken up with my boyfriend after I caught him cheating with my cousin. It was a bad scene. I miss him, but I mostly miss the sex we had. He was wild, and he brought it out in me. We first joined a swingers group, but we both got too jealous. We tried boy/boy and girl/girl. I liked it more than he did, but we quit that too. Now here I am, a spinster school teacher in a West that isn't wild anymore.

Again, I feel a brush across the back of my neck. Drafts.

I take myself to bed and huddle under the covers. I feel someone beside me again. I feel a sudden rush of loneliness and roll into the imaginary body. I feel nothing. Just as I'm drifting off to sleep, I feel a hand softly brushing my hair. So gentle, so soft, I'm not sure it's there as I fall asleep.

I wake later on, when it's very cold in my room, I take my blankets and pillow to the fire, stoke it up, and curl up in front of it. I feel a body behind me, spooning me. I snuggle backwards and arms seem to enfold me. I sigh and drift off to sleep.

The snowy whiteness glows behind my eyelids, when I feel something sticking in my back, much like Joe's cock in the morning. No. It couldn't be, I'm dreaming. I slowly reach behind me and for a split second, I feel a cock in my hand then it's gone. God, girl, you're desperate.

I make myself get up and see what the day is like. The blizzard is over and there's a couple feet of snow. Not so bad for the West. I go get dressed, automatically reaching for the light switch. Hey, it' back on! I quickly change as it's so cold. I make oatmeal and coffee and sit at the kitchen table. I feel something brush my cheek, like a light kiss. I'm beginning to believe I have a ghost, a nice gentleman ghost. Not sure who he is though.

Once I'm fed, I go out and shovel. It's light fluffy stuff so it's easy and I'm soon back in the house, warming in front of the fire.

Since I can't go back home, I have nothing to do. Don't want to work on lessons, this is vacation after all, so I decide to write down my experiences in the house.

I turn on the computer and just start writing. As I'm typing, I feel a hand on my arm. Now, when I say I feel it, it's more of an awareness, a sensing. It's cold and I shiver but it doesn't seem to deter him. My fingers fly over the keyboard and my story comes to life. As I'm typing, a letter appears where I did not type it. I go back and delete it. A few lines later, another letter appears. Okay, I think he's trying to communicate.

I open a blank document and type, "Hi. My name is Sally. I come from Boston and I'm here teaching school. What's your name?"

I take my hands off the keyboard, waiting.

Slowly, being probably a one-finger typist, he taps out, "Hi. My name is Jim. I was born here. Your house sits on my land, where I had a shop."

"What kind of shop did you have?

I wait, no response. It's possible he used up all his energy at once. Later maybe we can try again.

The afternoon rolls on and I stretch and realize it's time for dinner.

"Jim, I'm going to make dinner. You're welcome to join me."

When my casserole is done and I sit at the table, I feel Jim is beside me. I reach out to touch him but he touches me first. He puts his hand on my knee.

"Oh, so you're a frisky ghost!" I laugh. He pulls away.

"No, no, it's okay, I don't mind." His hand comes back, and stays there while I eat.

"I have to do dishes now, okay?" I stand at the sink and I feel him behind me. I find it hard to do the dishes while he's there, and he senses this. I feel his hands on my hips. I ignore it. His hands move to my butt and squeezes. I yelp!

"You surprised me, you little devil."

I turn into his arms, I assume, and I feel him pull me closer. Chilly lips land on my own. I'm kissing a ghost! He pries my mouth open and Frenches me. I can't imagine what this must look like to anyone watching. Hmmm, I can't get enough of his kiss. As cold as his lips and tongue are, it's arousing. I try to push him away, my hands touching something not solid but not quite air either.

"Slow your roll there, cowboy. We hardly know each other."

I feel him withdraw. "Jim, I'm not mad, I just want to take it slow. It's not every day I meet a ghost, much less kiss one."

He leaves me alone the rest of the night.

In the middle of the night, I wake to feel his cock in my back again.

"Jim, do you always have a hard-on?" His hand comes around and squeezes my breast. Hmmm. I feel cool breath on my neck as he nibbles my ear.

"You are such a horny devil, aren't you? Well, it's been a long time for me too."

I roll over to face him, though I'm looking at a bookcase. I try to touch him. This time, he reaches for my hand and puts it to his face.

"Since I can't see you, I'm going to close my eyes and imagine, okay?"

My hand on his face nods yes. I close my eyes and run my hands on his body, feeling his face, neck, chest. Do I really feel chest hair? I slide down to his belly and stop there, teasing him.

"Now, Jim, you do the same to me."

I remove my hand and I feel his icy touch as he caresses my face, neck, stops to play with my tits.

"Jim, later, move on."

He smoothes down my tummy to my pubes.

"We both feel good, don't' we." I feel him shift and come closer. He kisses me again, kisses all over my face, tongue in my ear. It tickles! Then he's Frenching me again. He's an excellent kisser. After thoroughly bruising my mouth, his kisses travel to my breasts. You haven't felt anything until a ghost kisses and bites your tits with this icy mouth. I was going nuts!

"Jim, you are such a good lover."

He moves down my stomach to kiss my mound. I feel his icy fingers ply my lips apart and kiss my pussy. He licks, and sucks and I'm dripping juices. I instinctively put my hands down to hold his head to my pussy. I feel icy fingers slide in and slowly finger fuck me. His mouth sucks on my clit and I cum!

"Oh, Jim. Please, please!"

He knows I want it, but I feel that he shifts again. His knees straddle me and I feel his cock at my lips. I put my hand up to hold it to me and I begin to lick and suck him. Again, I can't imagine what it looks like to an outsider. I feel Jim's hand on my head, holding me and fucking my mouth. He pulls out before he cums.

As he slides down my body, I feel a hand hold my head and he kisses me again, soft, lovely kisses,. He shifts again and I feel my legs being spread apart. His icy cock is poised at my entrance, hesitating.

"Jim, it's okay, I want this too."

He plunges in and begins moving. I look down at myself and see my lips moving in and out by this invisible cock. It's incredibly hot. Jim moves faster, and slower, giving me time. He reaches to tweak a tit, suck one, kiss me, before he pulls my hips to him and raises my legs over his shoulders. He goes deeper and harder and faster and it feels incredible! I'm meeting him thrust for thrust. His hand rubs my clit in circles and I'm bucking and cuming.

"Jim, yes!" He slams into me a few more times and cums himself. Jim rolls off me and we hold each other until morning.

I wake and feel that I'm alone. I miss him already, but he is probably somewhere regaining strength to appear again later.

I talk to him throughout the day, whether he's there or not. I don't get any response. I'm alone that night too. I sleep alone, that night, and the next.

Vacation is half over and I haven't felt Jim since that wonderful night. You're falling in love with a ghost. Girl, you're going to end up in the looney bin.

The next few nights, he doesn't come to me but I hear lots of odds noises, movements. He's doing something, but I can't see it.

I'm working on my computer one day, writing again, when the odd letter comes up again. I open our document and type, 'Sounds like you've been busy, Jim. What are you up to?"

One by one the letters appear. "Come to the garage at midnight. I'll show you."

"Why so late?"

"I'm strongest at midnight and it's a special power night."

"Okay, see you then."

I work through the day and take a break at dinner. I can't wait to see what Jim is doing. I set the alarm for 11:45p, so I'm not too sleepy for this.

The alarm goes off. I put on my robe, and find my way to the garage. It's a finished two-car garage that's heated so it's warm in there. I spot a puddle of snow in a corner near the automatic door.

I feel Jim's arms move me to the center of the other side of my car and backs me up, pushes me to sit. I sit in an invisible chair. I run my hands around it, trying to feel what type of chair it is. I don't quite know. I see a cape fly from a shelf and it's tied around my neck.

"Ah, I get it. You are the barber whose shop burned down. So my house sits atop your shop. I always wondered but couldn't find out."

I see a piece of paper float to a table, followed by a pencil. Scratching tells me he has enough power to write. The paper floats over to me and I read, "Yes. I loved being a barber and miss it in this life. Would you mind if I barber you?"

I tell Jim, "No, of course not. I'm not afraid of you, nor am I going anywhere. I'm here for whatever you need from me, whether it's loving or cutting hair." The paper and pencil fly up in the air joyously, and I laugh.

I see scissors and comb float over to me. The comb goes through my hair and the scissors trim some off the bottom. Of all the strange sights I've seen at this house, seeing my hair invisibly cut has to be near the top.

Jim is very good. He's soon given me a trim and I look good. I admire myself in the mirror.

"Good job, Jim. You're hired." I swear I hear a faint laugh.

The paper and pencil are picked up, and the paper is being written on again, "I'm not done yet."

Being invisible has its drawbacks.

"Jim, I can see the clippers behind your back, ya know." Another faint laugh.

"This must be some powerful night if you can hold those and use them." They turn on in response.

He bends my head down and I feel the clippers on my neck, shearing hair from my neck. Several passes and I'm turning on from the buzzing.

"Jim, do you have any idea what you are doing to me?" Faint laugh again.

He shaves more hair off and I feel the blade. I moan. Another pass and I can't help but move my hips. They change sound and I feel the buzzes on my skin.

"Jim, you're making me wet."

In response, I feel the clippers deeper on my neck with each pass. He clicks them off, puts them down and combs my hair. I feel his icy hand on the back of my neck where the hair used to be. He turns the chair towards the mirror, and gives me a hand mirror. He lets me look at my new haircut, and then lifts the back of my hair.

"Jim, I love it! A bob with undershave. You are good!"

I see the cape moved off to the side, and the ties on my robe undone. Jim then pulls me to the edge of the chair and I feel his cock push inside me. I laugh,

"You sure have an advantage over me, don't you. You can see me and find my places. How am I ever going to surprise you?"

A faint laugh turns to kisses as he fucks me in the chair and we cum together.

I live in that house for years, until the years force me to go to a home. I never married. I saved money on haircuts. I loved a ghost.

When the new owner of the house comes to claim the keys, and I take one last look around, I tell the woman, "You will live in this house, you will love in this house. You won't be alone. Be good to him and he will be good to you." I leave her with a puzzled look on her face.

A year after I tell her that, she visits me in the nursing home. "I just had to say thank you. Thank you for the house, and especially, thank you for him." I smile at her. "I love your haircut."

didn't   she   him   coming   see  

May 13, 2018 in romance

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