The Ghost and Mr. Moore by Ryan Field Page A

tender
     
spot between his legs. Lang’s beard was rough and it gave Dexter an erection; Lang’s
     
penis was huge and it was searching for an open, willing hole to penetrate. Dexter placed
     
his palms on Captain Lang’s shoulders and said, “Yes. Make love to me. I don’t care
     
what you are, ghost or human or dream. I want to do this.”
     
Captain Lang kissed him on the lips. He shoved his tongue into Dexter’s mouth,
     
probed as deeply as he could, and sucked so hard Dexter’s cheeks went into his jaw. His
     
beard made Dexter’s heart beat faster; his strong grip made Dexter’s chest heave with desire. When Lang reached down and guided the tip of his penis to Dexter’s small, tight
     
opening, Dexter whispered, “Do you have a condom? I only have safe sex.”
     
Lang kissed his earlobe and said, “I’m a ghost. There is no need for a condom or
     
any lubrication. I know how to enter you so you’ll never feel an ounce of discomfort or
     
pain. And I know how to fill you with pleasure you never knew existed.” He stuck his
     
tongue into Dexter’s ear and rolled it around a few times. “Will you allow me to enter
     
your body?”
     
No one had ever asked for permission before, not even Michael. The few guys
     
he’d been with had just poked around and shoved it into him. This one gentle act made
     
Dexter feel special, as if he possessed something magical of his own. He smiled and
     
nodded. “Yes, I want you inside me.”
     
When the tip of Lang’s penis entered Dexter’s body, Lang’s mouth opened and he
     
moaned. When the entire erection was buried as deeply as it would go, Lang kissed him
     
on the lips again. Dexter closed his eyes and saw sparks and flashes; his entire body
     
tingled and the tips of his toes felt numb with pleasure. Captain Lang had been correct.
     
Dexter didn’t feel an ounce of discomfort or pain. The thick, long shaft had slipped into
     
his opening with one simple thrust. Dexter spread his legs as wide as they would go and
     
said, “If I’m dreaming all this and I am losing my mind, it certainly was worth it.”
     
Then Captain Lang began to buck his hips with a slow rhythm. His erection
     
passed in and out of Dexter’s hole with an easiness Dexter hadn’t known was possible.
     
The friction made Dexter’s eyelids flutter; the pounding made his nipples hard. As the
     
rhythm increased and Lang slammed into him with louder smacks, Dexter reached down with his right hand and grabbed his own penis. He gripped his erection and whispered to
     
Lang, “Please don’t stop.”
     
After what seemed like an hour of absolute ecstasy, Dexter couldn’t hold back.
     
Lang’s rigid erection touched all his most sensitive spots, both inside his body and
     
around the rim of his anus. He’d been on the edge for a while, and it finally became too
     
intense to control. “I’m coming,” he whispered. “I can’t hold back any longer.” Captain
     
Lang was fucking him so hard now his legs were bouncing up and down and the bed was
     
rocking away from the wall.
     
“Don’t hold back,” Lang said.
     
They both climaxed at the same time. Dexter exploded all over his own chest. He
     
wanted to shout at the top of his lungs, but he couldn’t because Marion and Brighton
     
were downstairs working on supper. Captain Lang grunted a few times, moaned Dexter’s
     
name in a stage whisper, and fell on top of his body.
     
Dexter ran his fingers across Lang’s muscular back. There were ripples and ridges;
     
it was that glorious, masculine mix of firm and smooth. If this really was Captain Lang,
     
he had the body of a real man who had gained his muscle through hard work and long
     
hours spent on the deck of a ship. Dexter’s legs were still up and bent at the knees, and
     
Lang was still inside his body. He opened his eyes and said, “If I’m dreaming all this,
     
why are you still here? And how is it that I can still feel you