Page 28 of Boo-ty Calls
“Open,” Mason grunts. He slides the glass dildo into my mouth, and carefully I suck my arousal off of it. He takes it away once it’s clean and slips it under my pillow.
Gripping my hips, he slams into me harder and rubs my clit as I spiral toward orgasm, holding on to him closer. Everything tenses, and I meet his thrusts as ecstasy takes over my body. Pushing him out, I squirt over his cock, and Mason groans as he jerks off onto my chest.
“Baby, you were amazing.” He lies beside me for a few minutes before heading into the bathroom and returning with a washcloth.
Cleaning me, he presses a kiss to my forehead. This isn’t our normal dynamic, and I wonder how to apply aftercare to myself.
“Thanks, Mason, I needed that.” Getting off the bed, I slip on a large tee.
He walks toward me and wraps his hand around my shoulders. “Lie down, come on.”
“What?” I look at him, and his dark eyes stare back.
“Not leaving you without a cuddle. Things are different now.”
We lie on the bed, and I cling to his chest as he pulls out my pigtails and strokes my hair. It’s not who I want to do this with, but the consolation prize is alright.
“I’ve gotta go out of town for a while, but I’ll be back next month. We’ll work something out, cool?”
“Yep,” I whisper.
The entire thing is awkward and weird right now, and I don’t know how to feel. Pulling away first, I watch him getdressed and walk him out of the room after I turn off the light.
“We can work on the aftercare part, whatever you need from me. I know I’m not him, maybe you could find a new sub?” He puts on his boots, and I wrap my arm around my middle.
“I’m not about to train someone new. Have a good night, Mason.”
He kisses the top of my head before leaving. I lock up and hear a thunk in the kitchen. I roll my eyes and get the water bottle off the floor before heading to the bedroom.
Pulling the comforter as I get into bed, I notice a spray of neon blue on the fabric.
It looks like jizz, but Mason came on me. He’s also not spouting glow-in-the-dark spunk. Running my fingers over it, it’s almost dry and has no smell.
Taking my meds, I flop back, trying to make a logical connection. When there is none, I pass out from exhaustion.
Twelve
Archer
It’s been a few weeks since she’s had Mason over, and I want to know if she’s waiting for his return.
I’ve successfully been able to do more than knock water bottles out of the fridge, although the glow-in-the-dark jizz was shocking to me.
Fucking with her work has been my hardest struggle. Fine motor skills don’t seem to be a ghost’s high function.
Sloane loses her mind every time she finds more typos in her posts, though and I sit in her office and watch as she curses out the computer.
It’s boring being a ghost. I thought by now I’d be sucked into a bright light or hauled off to hell, but here I still am, and I have to wonder if it’s because of her or not.
I’m thankful she has stopped crying so much, but she shakes my box of ashes an awful lot.
“Fucking Archer, if you wouldn’t have been so fucking stupid, you could be here to serve me,” she yells out as she stubs her toe on her desk.
I wish for nothing more. Being her sub was the second best thing of my life, after being the love of hers.
“You’d like to put serviettes on the list?” Fellow calls out from the corner, I’ve been tinkering with it as much as I can to drive her crazy, but it seems to do it all on its own sometimes.
Sloane stomps out of the room, and I circle the desk to check for mistakes, not wanting to get her too riled up.
