shining into the bedroom when Emma reached the top of the stairs. The single stem remained in the vase and she carefully placed the ring next to it on the table. She undressed quietly and got into bed, naked as a baby. The rain had done nothing to kill the summer balminess; it was to be another humid night.
The soft lunar rays brought her comfort as she lay under a single sheet. Her thoughts turned to the revelations she had heard at Anthony and Claire’s house.
Grace.
Again, Emma shivered at the name. There was something about it that made her uneasy. Was that the name of her ghost? What had happened to her?
Almost before the questions had formed in her head, a faint scent filled the room and she felt herself drift into a dreamlike state.
Another shiver woke her, some time later; the scent was stronger now. How long had she been asleep? She refrained from opening her eyes but, in truth, she knew what she would see when she opened them.
The shimmering apparition was less opaque this time, although some transparency remained. The forlorn expression was gone too, replaced by bright, smiling eyes; this time, the ghost looked happy and vibrant. She wore the same shift, but this time it was completely open at the front, right to the waist. It swung open as she moved towards the bed, to reveal ample breasts, to which the phantom paid no heed whatsoever.
Emma was much less fearful this time, though she couldn’t think why. She sat up to get a better look. This girl did not mean to harm her, but she did seem to want to be near her. Emma stared open-mouthed at the girl’s breasts, then back at her face. There was something else going on too. She began to feel aroused. And she liked it.
Despite the chill in the room, Emma felt hot. Perspiration began to accumulate on her back and between her legs. Her breath quickened and she became aware of her own bosom heaving as she breathed deeper and deeper. It almost came as a relief when the ghost placed a hand upon hers, as if asking to sit on the bed. Emma expected the touch to be cold, but the skin was warm, like a living human being.
“Grace?” Her whisper cut the air like a sliver of glass.
Her visitor nodded slightly then held a finger to her lips, requesting silence as she shuffled up the bed right next to where Emma sat. The urge to pull her knees up to her chest was overwhelming, but Emma resisted. All she could think about was how it would feel to kiss this beautiful girl, this glowing, slightly transparent figure sitting next to her on the bed.
As if the girl had read her thoughts, she leaned in closer, almost touching her face and then paused, as though gauging Emma’s reaction. Emma nodded a little, hoping to be understood.
There was no holding back then. Lips touched lips, gently at first, then more forceful. There was a yearning in this kiss; Emma could feel it. She briefly wondered whether the ghost had kissed many other girls, or whether she had waited all this time for someone who would be receptive. Maybe that was why the previous tenants had not stayed at the cottage for long – they had been frightened of her.
Emma felt a hand on her waist and opened her eyes just as the kiss broke off. The second hand reached up and stroked her face. She stared into the eyes of the girl and saw pure unadulterated lust. She was breathless with intoxication.
Emma had often wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl. Never in her wildest fantasies had she ever thought it would be quite like this.
She lifted her hand and placed it on the ghost’s arm, stroking it. It felt just like another woman.
Grace. I can call her that now, Emma thought, after what we have just shared.
As she watched her hand stroking, her eyes drifted upwards towards the shimmering face to find it was no longer transparent at all. Sat beside her now was a figure that was to all intents and purposes a living, breathing human being. The bewildered expression on her face drew a smile from Grace and
The soft lunar rays brought her comfort as she lay under a single sheet. Her thoughts turned to the revelations she had heard at Anthony and Claire’s house.
Grace.
Again, Emma shivered at the name. There was something about it that made her uneasy. Was that the name of her ghost? What had happened to her?
Almost before the questions had formed in her head, a faint scent filled the room and she felt herself drift into a dreamlike state.
Another shiver woke her, some time later; the scent was stronger now. How long had she been asleep? She refrained from opening her eyes but, in truth, she knew what she would see when she opened them.
The shimmering apparition was less opaque this time, although some transparency remained. The forlorn expression was gone too, replaced by bright, smiling eyes; this time, the ghost looked happy and vibrant. She wore the same shift, but this time it was completely open at the front, right to the waist. It swung open as she moved towards the bed, to reveal ample breasts, to which the phantom paid no heed whatsoever.
Emma was much less fearful this time, though she couldn’t think why. She sat up to get a better look. This girl did not mean to harm her, but she did seem to want to be near her. Emma stared open-mouthed at the girl’s breasts, then back at her face. There was something else going on too. She began to feel aroused. And she liked it.
Despite the chill in the room, Emma felt hot. Perspiration began to accumulate on her back and between her legs. Her breath quickened and she became aware of her own bosom heaving as she breathed deeper and deeper. It almost came as a relief when the ghost placed a hand upon hers, as if asking to sit on the bed. Emma expected the touch to be cold, but the skin was warm, like a living human being.
“Grace?” Her whisper cut the air like a sliver of glass.
Her visitor nodded slightly then held a finger to her lips, requesting silence as she shuffled up the bed right next to where Emma sat. The urge to pull her knees up to her chest was overwhelming, but Emma resisted. All she could think about was how it would feel to kiss this beautiful girl, this glowing, slightly transparent figure sitting next to her on the bed.
As if the girl had read her thoughts, she leaned in closer, almost touching her face and then paused, as though gauging Emma’s reaction. Emma nodded a little, hoping to be understood.
There was no holding back then. Lips touched lips, gently at first, then more forceful. There was a yearning in this kiss; Emma could feel it. She briefly wondered whether the ghost had kissed many other girls, or whether she had waited all this time for someone who would be receptive. Maybe that was why the previous tenants had not stayed at the cottage for long – they had been frightened of her.
Emma felt a hand on her waist and opened her eyes just as the kiss broke off. The second hand reached up and stroked her face. She stared into the eyes of the girl and saw pure unadulterated lust. She was breathless with intoxication.
Emma had often wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl. Never in her wildest fantasies had she ever thought it would be quite like this.
She lifted her hand and placed it on the ghost’s arm, stroking it. It felt just like another woman.
Grace. I can call her that now, Emma thought, after what we have just shared.
As she watched her hand stroking, her eyes drifted upwards towards the shimmering face to find it was no longer transparent at all. Sat beside her now was a figure that was to all intents and purposes a living, breathing human being. The bewildered expression on her face drew a smile from Grace and
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