The Sidecar Tales 07 - Jenny 01

Ah, if only the Caucasian American 'goddesses' would give up the illusion of 'control' and dis-interest in sex, they would receive the pleasure of attentive men who desire the woman's pleasure before their own. Oh, well.

Reaching her kissing conclusion, she rolled on top of me, disdaining any oral games, and, forcing my rampant manhood deep into her body, proceeded to show me how a lust-crazed ghost make love. I was slid into a warm and wet, slippery cavern of pussy, and my entire length was vacuumed in and then lovingly expelled out, to be repeated in a slow, steady rhythm.

She orgasmed about every half minute, squealing and thrashing, and making her dangling, rigid-tipped breasts swing.

I tried to last, but how could I, with a mountain-lion of lust squeezing my erect penis, plus her now-solid arms and legs grasping and clutching, and her voice squealing three-centuries of lust-words in my ear.

I came into her, pumping her orgasmic body full of my spurting life. And then I kept on cumming. Longer and longer. Longer than a man could ever last, my dry cock still spasming as I thrust and thrust. And still longer did I come, not stopping, as I screamed out my 'sluts,' and my 'fuck-me' and all the other words of orgasmic lust I knew. Not stopping until the redness of no breathing crossed my eyes, and then the blackness of fainting.

I gradually awoke, to hear my haunted lover giggling in my ear, as her after-shocks of orgasm slowly decreased. I asked, in a hoarse whisper, "Jenny, what did you do to me?"

I heard, rather than saw, a slow smile, as she answered, "My love, my true love, when thee pleasures a woman, even a ghost woman, thee always holds back until thy woman has had a surfeit of thy thrusting and caresses, before thee has thy brief moment of pleasure. So I entered thy body, just a little, and I ... I cannot say, exactly ... I 'massaged' your sexual parts deep within thy body, and I caused for you, as a man, to feel the pleasure over much time that a woman—such as myself—feels at the hands, and the cock, of a true lovin' man."

I groaned, and said, "I think women are stronger than men, 'cause I don't think I could take much of that, and I KNOW you can."

She laughed again, forcing her breasts and still-pointed nipples into my body, saying, "You speak truly, but, when I shall share my body with you in this world, we shall do this again, and more. I shall lend you the strength you need to sustain my pleasuring, and you shall provide me with all your ... your 'hard cock,' as you say in these years. Ah, an' I shall delight in seeing that selfsame cock buried in some other mortal woman, and listen to her screams and cries, as you pleasure her in ease and for times that she could not even dream of. I swear this upon my newly-lived life."

I felt sleep coming on, and said, drowsily, "Jenny, I have to sleep. Stay with me."

She answered, snuggling beside me, "Ah shall not leave thee."

Greatly daring, I said, "Even more, love. Sink into me and explore, as you can do in your misty state. Please."

I looked into wide, enormous eyes, as she murmured, "That sure, that loving, are you, that you can open yourself that much. Sink into you I will do. Feel me do so, as you drift into the bliss."

The last thing I remembered was her features dissolving into mist, as her dis-embodied coolness enveloped me.

I slept hard, but woke a couple of hours before sunrise. I was full of piss, and had to flow, which I did, just out of the hammock.

Finishing, I felt a light touch on my shoulder, and my cock swung up into an erect posture, to its longest, fullest and hardest state. I turned, and there stood my ghostly lover, still gloriously nude. Her hand, somehow still warm, drifted down to my huge erection, and began a light stroking.

Gasping, I asked, "What did you find, inside me?"

Seriously, for all that she was exciting me to violent ravishing, she answered, "Thy thoughts and memories are thy own. But I did change—oh, just a little bit—of thy ability to produce and sustain what I now hold. When thee opens my so-willing limbs, and sinks inside, thee will find thyself well able to plumb my very depths, an' fill me with your spurting life."

"Jenny," I gasped, "unless you slow down and stop, I'm gonna violate your body, here on the grass."

She laughed aloud, her voice ringing in the trees, "Aye, an' while you are pounding out your lusty violation upon me, will thee find me robbing thee of thy spunk, and sucking thy rigid manhood deeper and deeper into my so-willing body."

"Jenny," I have presents for you, and I can't give them to you while I'm having sex with you."

Her eyes 'lit up' as she said, "What have thee bought for your ghost, that she might need?"

She stopped her stroking, all but the lightest touch, as I gave her my packages, which she opened, marveling at the paper and the plastic containers. I'd chosen what I thought a solid ghost might need to excite lust in a man, and that would 'frame' her lovely body. Skin-tight Capri pants. A couple of mini-skirts. Black armless, backless and open-crotch fishnet body suits. A French-cut silk blouse, open down to 'here'. A replica 1850's harlot's outfit of Victorian England. Some other stuff.

She slid from solidity to mist, and started to flow into the proffered goodies, as I quickly assembled my last surprise. How I accomplished that, in star and moonlight, with an erect penis in the way, I'll never know. But I assembled a snap-together frame (I'd practiced, a couple of times), and stretched a sheet of reflective mylar over the frame.

I said, over my shoulder, to my ghostly lover, "Any woman I've ever met needs a mirror, and so, here's one for you ... full-sized." I hung it from a tree branch, and pegged down the two corners, as I'd planned.

Then turned around, and nearly bruised my jaw as it fell. My penis was still heavy, long and hard because Jenny had 'flowed into her bright red Capri pants, and filled them to the point of looking like they were a second skin. At the crotch, there was a prominent camel-toe. Her feet were encased in mid-heel sandals. Her midriff was bare, and just barely not enclosing her torso was a glaring white silk sleeveless blouse, open to just above the bottom of the blouse, with the curves of her breasts and the points of her distended nipples pushing at the fabric.

She stared at the mirror-surface I'd just erected, and then back at me. She said, "How ..."

"Metals and materials you didn't have at the time you were mortal. Do you like?"

Silly question. She preened and posed, adjusting things that, to my eye, needed no adjustment. She dissolved out of that outfit and re-solidified in a lacy, sheer red teddy. Then out of and into the other things I brought, all the time, looking at her reflection ... and returning to stroke my bouncing, swaying erection.

She finally settled on the black silk fishnet, and started to drag me down to the grass. Painfully erect and throbbing, I had to remind her that, in the real world, there were such things as grass stains. So, she allowed me to take the hammock down and spread it on the ground.

Then—no lie—she dragged me down to the sheeted ground, wrapped her arms and legs around me, and jamming my hardened rod so deeply inside her I through it would emerge from her ghostly belly. Then, thrusting and screaming about her being a 'fucking slut,' SHE ravished ME. She performed sex with me for what seemed like an hour, thrashing and thrusting back, and causing me searing jolts of sexual pleasure, as I penetrated and pounded my length of rigid penile flesh into her finally-so-solid body.

She screamed, and came, every minute, it seemed, and then the cums became shorter and shorter between, until they merged into a single, continuous orgasm, never stopping, until I finally unloaded my aching balls into her. Then she did her ghost hands thing, and I orgasmed like a crazy woman, until I passed out again.

I woke in the mid-morning, about 10:00 AM. Somehow, while I was unconscious, she'd re-rigged my hammock, and bundled me back into my quilt. Gasping, I shuddered awake, stood, and staggered nakedly over to the spring, as it burbled into the ground, to clear the cobwebs.

I heard a giggle. Looking up, I saw my spirit lover, still partly transparent, perched as she was, in the deep daytime shadow, next to the spring.

I heard her voice, more as a gentle tinkle than as the full-throated screams of the orgasmic woman being fucked. She said, "Your spurting life, the last two times, made me strong enough to withstand the day, if not full sunlight. You canna touch me, for I am not yet strong enough for that in the day, but I'd thought to let you see me bare of all the gifts thee gave. The clothes are folded ovah yonder, behind that rock. Fare thee well, until tonight."

She started to fade, but added, "I must know about your styles of lovin' in the French manner." Then she faded completely.

I had a meal of eggs and bacon. The eggs cooked in a flat, cut-down can, and the bacon cooking itself on a fork.

[You've never done that? Well, take a strip of thick-sliced bacon, and impale one end on a fork. Use a bic lighter or other flame and light the fat at the other end. As the flame climbs up the bacon strip, the meat cooks itself. Hold the bacon out so that the drippings fall on the ground. If you are handy, have a second strip of bacon waiting on another fork, and eat the first strip as the second cooks. No pans or plates, and no clean-up.]

[If you want coffee or tea, pour the grounds or leaves into an empty one-liter soda bottle, and fill to the rim with cold water, and then screw the cap on tightly. Then pitch the whole thing in the fire, for ten minutes or so. The plastic won't melt, as it carries the heat away to the water too fast. Pull it out, sit it upright, and the grounds or leaves will settle to the bottom. Drink the top 4/5-ths. Pour out the rest of the mess and then burn the bottle.]

No fuss, no muss, no mess. Just like screwing a ghost.

I stayed as long as I could, into the start of winter, but had to move on when the temperatures fell.

I've been back a few times, and Jenny gets more solid and her mist walls continue to draw back. She can now stand in shade-dappled sunlight, and only the blaze of sunlight on a clear day forces her into transparency.