“Fuck that hurt.”
It was all I could think of saying as I picked myself up slowly from the side of the road, amazed I was still in one piece after being hit by that lorry. I could hear screaming all around me and thought what the heck they were screaming at, until I looked down at the road and saw my own mangled body a few feet away.
I did a quick double-take and looked down at myself. To my eyes, I was intact yet at the same time, I could see that crumpled heap of flesh and bones that was clearly me lying on the roadside, surrounded by screaming people. At that point I think if ghosts could faint, I would have fainted. Instead, I just stood listening dumbly to the crowd of onlookers who were mumbling things like, “She didn’t stand a chance,” and “Has someone called an ambulance?”
“Hi there, guess it must be a bit of a shock but in case you haven’t realised it; you are dead.”
I looked towards the voice and found myself staring at a black man with a ridiculously large afro, wide flares and a shirt that was so loud, if I could have put on sunglasses I would have.
“Dead?” I said not sure that I heard him right, “How can I be dead I am only 23 and fit and healthy.”
“Well, you are definitely dead,” replied Afro man, “I’m Darren by the way and before you ask, I died in 1973, styled myself on the super cop Shaft.”
I had seen the remake of the film a few years before and had forgotten that it was first around in the seventies.
“Sally,” I replied without thinking and then seeing my boyfriend Jamie shouted to him, “Hey Jamie over here.” To my surprise, he totally ignored me and even when I walked over and waved my hand in front of his face, he continued to ignore me as he spoke to the policeman who was trying to keep people back from the body, well my body.
“She just stepped out… I tried to stop her, but she didn’t listen,” he said between sobs.
Now they say the moment you die your life flashes before your eyes. For what it’s worth that’s not quite true. For me the only thing that flashed before my eyes were the headlights and grill of a very large articulated lorry. What you do remember when you are dead is what happened the moments before you died, you remember them very clearly.
I quite vividly recalled calling Jamie a bastard and a cunt, but that was because I had just received a text from my best friend telling me that my boyfriend was fucking someone behind my back. If there was any doubt as to whether it was true or not, there was a picture of some blonde slut giving my boyfriend a blow job in our flat. I also remembered quite clearly telling Jamie that he could discover somewhere else to live as I wanted him out of the small flat we had bought together on a joint mortgage. What I didn’t remember was stepping out in front of the lorry, but as I wondered about it, I did remember the thump in my back moments at the moment it hit me.
The realisation that my boyfriend had killed me dawned on me. “You bastard,” I screamed and leapt at him with the full intention of clawing his eyes out. To my shock, I went straight through him and landed on the grass on the other side of him. If there was any consolation it was that he shivered before he continued to play the part of the grieving boyfriend.
“OK time for a quick 101 on being dead,” Darren said as he helped me up. “Ghosts can only hear other ghosts. You can’t really interact with the living that well.” I just stared at Darren as he went on, “Ghosts can interact with other ghosts,” he sniggered as he added, “Something we do a lot by the way.”
“You mean there is nothing I can do to make him hear or feel me?”
At that point, a woman threw her arms around Jamie telling him he would be OK and she would be there for him. Well as you can imagine I saw red as I recognised her as the slut with the dyed blonde hair who had been blowing Jamie in the picture. I leapt at the pair of them with fury in my brain and again passed through landing on the road with a thump. I looked up to see a bus almost on top of me as I sat in the middle of the road and screamed loudly. My scream continued as the bus simply passed through me or was it that I passed through the bus?
Darren held out his hand to my surprise, as he said I could grasp it and allowed him to pull me to my feet.
“Some do say that at the moment of orgasm, we can interact,” Darren said and paused before he went on, “Well in fact I know that’s true.”
I wanted to question him how he knew but I was more interested in getting even with that murderous bastard of a boyfriend.
“So do you fancy sex?” Darren asked looking at me hopefully. “If you want, we can watch to get in the mood.”
My head was spinning as Darren walked me across the road and towards a row of houses. “This is a great road; you have everything here so whatever takes your fancy. Number 36 is good as that’s a very sexy older woman who has a string of well-endowed lovers, sometimes two at a time.”
“He only says that because it’s his ex,” said a woman who had appeared next to me.
“She was just a casual acquaintance,” spluttered Darren in reply.
“Yes of course she was,” laughed the woman, “he says causal but forgets that I used to watch them fucking like rabbits long before he died.” Then she put her mouth close to mine and whispered, “And the string of other lovers she had that he never knew about.”
I stared at the woman who looked like she had walked straight out a period drama. Her dress was wide and round on her bottom half whilst the top was so revealing as it pushed her breasts together and almost out.
“If you like my boobies you can have a feel anytime you like,” she said jiggling her breasts, “My name’s Emma by the way and if you want to watch something really entertaining there are a pair of lesbians at number 78.”
My head was spinning when Darren grabbed me and pulled me into a doorway, well more like through the door and into a hallway.
“Sorry to be a bit rough but saw a gang of marauders coming and didn’t think you were ready for them yet.”
I could see the concern all over Darren’s face and said simply, “Marauders?”
Darren looked a little uncomfortably before he said, “The trouble with being dead is there are no laws to control people. There are groups of people who go around preying on other ghosts and taking what they want, often by force.”
“Don’t be daft,” I said laughing thinking that as I was dead there was nothing I had they could possibly want. As the wondered ran through my brain, I realised that Darren was eyeing my body up and down and it dawned on me what he meant by what they want.”
“Rape?” I said quietly. Darren nodded. “Is there nothing I can do?”
“Just don’t let them catch you,” Darren laughed, “and if they do just lie back and think of England.”
“How does the clothes thing work then?”
“Well not really sure if I am honest,” Darren said scratching his Afro as his face split into a large grin. “Things seem to stay the same as if by magic and it seems to be governed by distance.”
He must have seen the confused look on my face as he bent down and slipped off one of his Cuban-heeled boots. He placed it on the floor next to his foot like it was a weird third foot. Then picking it up he hurled it at the front door which it passed through like it wasn’t there. There was no discernible change but when he held up his leg the boot had returned.
My head was whirling with different thoughts and about a million questions but before I could ask the door flew open and a tipsy couple almost fell in.
“I don’t do this for everyone,” the drunk middle-aged woman slurred as she dropped to her knees in front of the man half her age, and unzipped him before pulling his trousers and boxers to his ankles. His cock sprang free and the woman muttered with glee as she grasped it firmly. Peeling back his foreskin she ran her tongue over the head before swallowing his cock into her warm and eager mouth.
“She says that to every one of them,” Darren snorted, “and it’s a different one most nights.”
I looked on in open-mouthed amazement that myself and Darren were being ignored. Instead, the posh-looking woman seemed determined to devour the young man’s nether regions.
“She,” said Darren; “is a well-to-do woman whose husband is something crucial in the city. He stays up in town during the week, and fucks rent boys. Of course she doesn’t know that, and he comes home for the weekend. She goes out and gets every young stud she can who fuck her during the week. Don’t suppose you fancy sucking on mine do you?”
Turning my head, I could see that Darren had dropped his trousers to reveal his long black cock that was already half erect. Normally I would have turned down any man’s advances having stayed faithful to Jamie since we first met. The picture of him having his cock sucked by that blonde slut flashed into my head. Well, if he cheated on me while I was alive why shouldn’t I cheat on him now that I am dead? What was it the vicar had said at the last wedding? “Till death us do part,” so guess between not being married to the twit, along with being dead; that makes it OK.
I had never been with a black man before, in fact, there had only been one man before Jamie with whom I had gone all the way. Kneeling beside the living woman I grasped Darren’s cock and began working it with my hand.
“It’s warm,” I exclaimed, “and fucking big.”
Darren’s cock was pretty impressive, certainly bigger than Jamie’s and even bigger than the guy next to me getting his cock sucked.
Whilst I may have only gone all the way with one man other than Jamie, I had given plenty of hand jobs and more than my fair share of blow jobs. Still using my hand to work the root I swallowed as much of his cock as I could. I never was much good at deep-throating when I was alive as I could never overcome the fear of choking, but my gag reflex seemed to have vanished in death. I found myself able to take Darren’s considerable length until his balls touched my chin.
“Oh man that feels so damn good,” he groaned as he gripped my head and slowly started to face fuck me.
The living couple next to us had stopped their oral sex and she was bent over with her dress almost over her head and her fat ass in the air. The guy was fucking her doggy fashion with his trousers by his ankles and his jacket still on. I couldn’t help noticing that the man had taken a phone from his pocket and was recording their sex. The woman was oblivious and gripped the stair post as she made loud noises of pleasure.
Deciding it was time for me to get ghost fucked, I stopped sucking Darren and bent over like the woman. Lifting my skirt up around my waist I realised that I had no panties on, then I remembered I had left them off after me and Jamie had a quickie before we went out. Bending further forward, I braced myself as Darren pushed his long cock into me. I yelped in pleasure as he sank deep as I clapped a hand over my mouth for fear of being heard.
“Don’t worry,” said Darren as he grabbed my hips and started to drive in and out, “they cannot hear you.”
“But other ghosts can,” said a voice as a man stepped out of the wall.
I wanted to scream in shock at being caught with a black cock in me but the sensations running through me were too great. The man who was dressed in a pair of striped flannel pyjamas fished his cock out from the fly hole and held it in front of my face. I was so turned on that I just opened my lips and let him slide his cock into my mouth.
Part of my brain was calling me slut for being spit roasted in a strange house by two ghostly people I had never met before. Another part of my brain said, “Just go with the flow, you are dead.”
I am sure I heard them high-five over my back but I was more concerned about staying on my feet as Darren’s thrusts got more vigorous. He let out a loud roar and I felt his seed shoot deep into my body, there were a few more thrusts and then suddenly I was empty. I couldn’t look around as the man fucking my mouth had hold of my hair as he pumped.
“Fuck yesss,” he groaned as he squirted into my throat and then pulled out, working his cock with his hand to also give me a facial. I could feel the warm seed splatter on my cheeks and then start dripping down to my chin.
I have always hated facials as much as guys seem to love them, they always make a bloody mess and if you have ever had sperm in your eyes, you know what I mean. I rubbed my hand across my face but to my surprise instead of wiping off a gooey mess there was nothing, my face was dry. To make matters weirder Darren had vanished completely.
“Looks like your friend has transitioned,” the man said, “not something you see every day.”
“How come there aren’t millions of ghosts,” I said to the man who had just jizzed in my face. I guess I should have asked him his name but didn’t see the point.
“Well firstly not all become ghosts,” he said, “Have seen loads of folks die and nothing happens, they just die.”
“Then there are the transitions like your friend Darren,” said Marie. “Every so often some event or something triggers the transition and they just vanish.”
“So we just wander around fucking until we vanish?” I said standing up, “Well I am gonna discover a way to get back at my boyfriend and his slut girlfriend.”
It wasn’t difficult to find my way back to my flat though was a bit boring as I had no phone or tablet to be engrossed in like the rest of my fellow passengers. To pass the boredom I moved around the underground carriage, looking over people’s shoulders and reading their messages or emails though most were dull. The only one that was a bit spicy was a middle-aged man texting his lover about their last meeting and how he was looking forward to the next. One reply read, “I cannot wait until I taste your cock in my mouth again, but we must make sure our wives never figure out.”
“You naughty man,” I said out loud.
“I have read a lot worse,” laughed a woman sitting next to him. I did a double take as I realised she was totally naked.
“You can hear me,” I exclaimed in shock.
“Of course,” said the woman as a man sat through her, “I am dead like you and I hate it when they do that.”
Standing next to me she introduced herself as Mandy, “Died 1961, drug overdose,” she said calmly. “In bed with another woman and her boyfriend,” she added, “hence the appearance.”
“Sally,” I said, “hit by a lorry a few hours ago that my bastard cheating boyfriend pushed me under.”
She made a sympathetic face and went on,” So what are your plans for the rest of eternity?”
“Well I want to somehow get back at my boyfriend,” I said still angry at him, “What about you?”
“Died in the free Love generation and have kept it going ever since. Think I have committed just about every sexual act you can think of.” She said smiling as she ran her hand over my top.
“Spit-roasted?” I said thinking about Darren and the pyjama man.
I have never looked at another woman sexually before but mentally shrugging my shoulders I opened my mouth and kissed her.
When we eventually broke our kiss I said breathlessly, “I have never done this before.”
“Wow,” Mandy said, “You could have fooled me, because that was one hell of a kiss.”
The tube carriage was pretty empty as she removed my blouse and bra, running her tongue over my nipples. Dropping to her knees she pushed my skirt up around my waist and kissed my belly and mound. I opened my legs as she inserted a finger into my wetness, sliding it deeper as her lips found my clit. She started to slowly finger fuck, introducing a second finger making me moan with pleasure.
I could feel my naked ass against the glass dividing me from the seat, and hear the sounds of my pussy squelching on Mandy’s fingers. I could see by the lack of reactions from the living passengers around us, no one else could.
Each thrust from Mandy lifted me onto my tiptoes and I could feel my orgasm building.
“Can you take more fingers?” Mandy said.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“But do you want more?” She asked slowing her movements to keep me hanging.
“Yes,” I said still in a lowered tone.
“Shout it out,” Mandy said, “Tell me what you want, they cannot hear you.”
Taking a deep breath I screamed loudly, “STICK THREE FINGERS IN MY CUNT…FUCK IT USE YOUR FIST.”
No one reacted to my shout apart from Mandy who pushed three fingers in and then four, making me yell and moan. At her encouragement, I lifted one foot onto her shoulder as she pushed her whole hand inside me and formed a fist. I started cumming and couldn’t stop as she moved her hand in and out while using her other hand to play with my clit.
With nothing to support me, I fell to the floor, her hand still in me as I opened my legs in wanton lust. I writhed and bucked on the floor as people walked past me getting on and off the tube. When I had calmed down enough, she slowly slipped her hand from me and licked it like a lollipop. Then the train came to a halt and as the doors opened she jumped up.
“That was fun, we must do it again sometime…but this is my stop.”
With that, she got off and the doors closed behind her leaving me naked and breathless as I looked for my clothes.
“Nice show,” said a voice and looking up saw a very well-dressed man in a suit and tie and even a bowler hat. “No point in looking for your clothes.”
“You are dead aren’t you?” I said starting to become used to random perverts popping up and watching me having sex. Before he could answer I went on, “Suppose you like me naked, gives you something to perve over?”
“Well now that you mention it you do have a rather fine body,” he said, “But you will discover it easier just to walk to the end of the carriage.”
Taking his advice I stood and started walking down the carriage and before I got to the end I was dressed like some form of grand magic trick.
The city gent had followed me and now that I was dressed raised his hat, “Sir Percival Crumley-Smythe, fell from a great height 1932 Stock Market crash,” then added, “You can call me Percy.”
“Sally Smith,” I said curtsying, “hit by a lorry a couple of hours ago; or was it a few days ago?” Then I paused as I thought about it, “Or maybe that was a couple of weeks ago.”
“Ah yes time does work differently when you are dead, best you just give a year.” He looked at me for a moment and then said, “Let’s get off this train and make love.”
I was expecting him to pick somewhere nice, perhaps secluded, maybe even romantic but not the window display of a department store.
As we kissed again I found it a little disquieting to have people stopping and staring at the couch we were on.
“Does being shagged in public disturb you?” Percy said as he caressed my naked breast.
“Even though they cannot see me it still feels strange.”
Despite my misgivings, I had allowed him to open my legs to grant him access to my pussy which he was teasing and fingering as we talked.
“Do ghosts have sex at all times?” I said as since dying I had felt so much more liberated and permanently turned on.
“Very much so,” Percy laughed as I worked his cock, “Before my death my wife and I would have sex once a week, under the covers with the lights off. Now I love the idea of performing in public, even if they cannot see me.”
“Have you tried difficult positions…different things?” I couldn’t help asking.
When he said nothing I rolled onto all fours and stuck my ass in the air and was rewarded with a gasp of joy.
“My, my you are a naughty young lady.”
Without really thinking through the consequences I giggled as I said, “Yes daddy I have been a bad girl and should be punished.”
A different look came over his face, one of lust and desire as he bought his hand down gently on my ass.