Page 22 of Baking With A Ghost

The stress of possibly being judged by my best friend slides away, and the act of finally talking to someone about it has lifted a great weight from my chest.

"I will. Thank you for not thinking I'm crazy. I've wanted to tell you about it for a while, but I wasn't sure how you'd take it."

"I'll always be there for you, John. I understand why you didn't want to tell me yet and I'm over the initial shock. Keep me posted?"

"Of course. Love you, girl."

"John, maybe some of us are too good to find real love on this earth. Perhaps you're supposed to find it somewhere else. Maybe this is what you're supposed to do."

With Ivy's parting wisdom, I decide calling Mike is not as crazy as I first thought it was.

John

Swallow

Asoftmoancrossesmy lips as I spread my legs apart, halfway between the state of awake and asleep, to allow my partner more room. It's another fantastic dream and I don't want to wake up.

But I realize I’m awake because I'm staring up at my ceiling right now. And there's no mistaking the friction on my morning wood and the sensation of a body pressed against me. Unlike last time, when I jerked myself off to the memory of the dream, my hands are nowhere near my dick.

"Simon…"

His name is a soft plea. My lust and want for more all bunched up in his name, just like the sheets are in my fingers.

God, I've never wanted to feel someone's hair in my fists like I do now. I thrust my hips into the invisible grip and gasp when it tightens around my cock, so I repeat the motion, and fuck if it doesn't happen again.

It's the strangest and most mind shattering sensation. Daring a glance down my body, my swollen cock stares back at me as I lift my hips. Each time I do, the pressure increases and I can't compute how it's happening, because I only see my throbbing cock. I clutch the sheets in my frantic hands, aching for the warmth of flesh on flesh.

My panting fills the room as my orgasm draws closer.

"I'm gonna come…"

All sensations halt once the words are out of my mouth, and I cry out in frustration, reaching down to finish myself.

But I can't.

My hand is pushed back and wet heat envelopes my throbbing cock, drawing a curse from me.

"Oh, fuck… that feels amazing."

It's so oddly arousing and wondrous to watch your own cock being sucked by something you can't see, but only feel. His tongue laps the underside of my shaft and flicks over the tip, before sliding back down and doing it all over. Suction and the squeeze of a swallow pull more moans from me before his tongue drags up again. It's otherworldly, sweet torture and it's the most incredible experience I’ve ever had. I stare at my dick being worked over by an unseen entity and I'm morbidly curious as to where my cum will go. Do ghosts swallow?

I'm about to find out, because I can't warn him in time and my orgasm explodes like a geyser, shooting streams of spunk that disappear as I gasp and writhe under the ministrations of my ghost.

"Holy shit. Holy. Fucking. Shit."

I can't catch my breath and it's a fantastic way to start the day. Mind blowing orgasm and no mess to clean up? Yes, please.

But my euphoria is short-lived when I feel the presence of Simon leave the bed. After several moments he doesn't return. I've never missed wrapping my arms around a warm body as much as I do right now, and to experience the post sex skin-on-skin connection of another human is something that can't be replicated. Until now, I didn't realize how much I really needed it.

Naked, I pad into the bathroom and step into the shower. There's no better place to take stock of your life than in the shower. My hands work by memory, as I wash my hair and body, and my mind wanders to last night's conversation with Ivy, as well as this morning's events.

The only person who has an opinion I care about supports me. Ivy may be odd, but I believe her when she says she supports my crazy idea of summoning Simon for real. All I need is to have Simon in my arms and talk. I want to talk for days with our legs tangled together and press kisses to his head. I want to know what it was like for him growing up and I want to tell him how some things have changed for the better and he's not alone. Mostly I want to tell him he's already in my heart and I can't bear to let him go.

I want to wake up and have my coffee with him, and have us work side by side together, just like I’ve always dreamed. My need to have him here is suffocating and I've never experienced such an all consuming feeling before.

Stepping out of the shower, I towel off and resolve to meet Mike later today.

But before all that, it's time to get to work. I have a bakery to run and the bread isn't going to bake itself.

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