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A Holiday Haunting: Part 1

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A Holiday Haunting: Part 1
Jack returns home and reconnects with his old ghost crush.

Based on a post by zeon 67.

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Oh. Shit! She's back.

Jack had to drop everything and run to the living room; he

needed to see her again. His coffee mug shattering against the kitchen floor
meant little to him. Jack followed her out of the room, stumbling into the den
and crashed into a chair. Any pain that he felt was instantly ignored; he just
had to see her face. But she phased through the bookcase, leaving him
disappointed.

Ten years. It had been ten years since Jack had last seen

Erin.

Just a brief peek of her ghostly form, and Jack was a

teenager again. The first time he met Erin, he was thirteen. Jack's parents had
dragged the family from Boston to live in a stock horror mansion outside
Portland, Maine. He hated everything about it, feeling depressed, isolated from
his old life. Then he saw her.

She appeared late one night as Jack attempted to fall

asleep. His eyes widened as this woman floated in front of his bed. She wore a
bulky, dark shirt with a lighter collar, a long apron over a skirt that reached
her ankles and sensible shoes. Pale skin and white hair held up in a
professional bun. She stood translucent and hovered a foot off the ground.

Jack was freaking out, shaking under the covers and trying

to release a scream. But watching her body float, her head crooked to the side
with a curious smile, Jack felt an eerie calm. He sat up in his bed and
examined her further. She was beautiful, an oval face with dimples, full lips,
and wide, expressive eyes. He tried to guess her age, but it was impossible due
to her intangible form.

"Hello;" Jack said. His voice was hoarse and

unconvincing.

She smiled again at him before disappearing.

"Fuck." Jack immediately fainted.

He awoke late in the morning, still shaken. Jack ran down to

his family, yelling at them in the kitchen at what he had just seen. His
parents responded with blank looks. His sisters both snickered, cracking jokes
about Jack's nighttime activities, and how it must have affected his brain. But
as he continued, the jokes stopped, and soon Jack had weekly sessions with Dr.
Miller.

It was like a month until he saw her again. Jack was alone

in the house and found Erin standing in between his bed. He screamed this time,
but Erin just replied with a smile. She looked amused by his actions. She
disappeared, and Jack had to wait another month before catching her on the
stairs. But he had a plan, knowing what he should do the next time he ever saw
her again.

"Jack!" His mother yelled from upstairs.

"What Happened!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "It's nothing. I dropped my

mug." He shouted back up, praying that his parents won't come down.

Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, and Jack had returned home early,

hoping just to relax and forget about Laura. Retreating into the kitchen, he
ignored the mess he'd left behind. He wasn't that heartbroken about the end of
the relationship; he just needed to get out of Boston for a while. Jack filled
up a glass of water and took a couple of gulps, trying to steady himself. The
plan was to drink, eat loads and watch football. But now, Jack was instantly
consumed by the need to see Erin again.

 

Erin's Further Revelations.

Jack rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He

guessed that it was probably two in the morning. He should be asleep, but
restless energy had overpowered him, just like when he was a teenager. The
weeks after her second appearance, Jack woke early in the morning and saw Erin
staring out of the window. She turned to him and then disappeared. Every couple
of weeks, he would see Erin around the house, mostly in his room, but always
when he was alone.

Whenever Jack saw her, Erin would disappear, fade into

nothing in front of him. After a dozen or so appearances, Erin and Jack got
used to seeing each other over the year. He would see her, and they would
exchange brief smiles before would Erin dissolve. Jack got used to finding her
in random places, occasionally pretending that she was never there when Erin
materialized during family dinners. Though she mostly appeared in his room. He
was also sure that he was the only one who could see her, which developed a
special bond as he aged.

It was just a shame they couldn't talk to each other.

Whatever break in the dimensions that brought her here

didn't allow them to speak or hear one another. Over the years, Jack and Erin
relied on non-verbal communication, making up their own sign language while
also writing out words on paper. Jack's parents were weirded out one Christmas
when he asked for a dry erase board.

He would come home from school and rush to his room,

wondering if that day was the day she would appear. If he found her there, Jack
would tell her about his day, what had changed since they last spoke, and
random thoughts in his head. She would eagerly listen to him and try to respond
in her own way. She had become this nonjudgmental friend that he could bounce
off from as he dealt with his new surroundings and the horror of puberty.

It took two years for Jack to know Erin's name. They were

together in his room; the house was empty apart from them. It felt that Erin
had trained herself to emerge only when he was alone. Jack sat on his bed,
talking to Erin. For the hundredth time, he had asked her name. She led him to
the bathroom and pointed to the faucet. Running the hot water, he saw Erin
smile as the bathroom mirror started to fog up. She clenched her jaw and
pressed a finger up against the glass. Erin's face strained as her form became
clearer as she wrote 'ERIN' in the mirror. The smile on Jack's face then
quickly vanished as Erin faded into nothing. He wouldn't see her for another
two months.

Jack rolled onto his stomach, feeling his cock throb against

his leg. Without any prompting, his mind cast back when he turned 18, and Erin
gave him a special present. It was one of the few times that Erin appeared,
when there were other people in the house. He was half-asleep, playing on his
PlayStation when she materialized. Jack shuffled back and collapsed on the bed.
There was something off about her that night, her body was trembling, and her
face was stone-like.

With great energy, her lips curled into a smile, and there

was a flash. The clothing that Jack had always seen her in the last five years
had disappeared into nothing, leaving her naked. A loud guttural groan escaped
Jack's mouth; it was the first time he had seen a naked woman. Her body was
slim, graceful, like a dancer, and perfect. He stared at her small but firm tits;
Jack assumed they were B-cups and wished he could have his hands over them. Her
skin then began to change, turning from a clear white to a fair skin tone. He
noticed rusty-colored freckles dot around her angular nose framed by long
reddish-brown hair. Then two bright green eyes stared back, overwhelming him.

"Fuck," Jack whispered. His mouth dry, his stomach

twisted into knots, and all the blood drained into his penis. He was in love or
lust; it was all the same back then to him.

Jack rolled off the bed and waddled to the bathroom, holding

out the used tissue as far away from him as if it was toxic. He was only
exposed to her for a few moments before she vanished. Still, Erin's naked form
had been seared entirely in his brain, giving him special comfort during lonely
nights. Dumping the balled-up tissue in the toilet, he started washing his
hands. The general feeling of self-disgust hit him, but this time with more
power. He was fantasizing about a long-dead woman. It's not right.

He crawled back into his bed and reached for his laptop.

Opening the browser, Jack thought to himself for a moment before going to incognito
mode. He might need some privacy should anyone have a look at his search
history. In the search bar, he typed 'Medium Psychic, And Portland, Maine.'

 

Ophelia's Services.

The doorbell rang, and Jack quickly set down his coffee and

rushed to the door. He briefly checked himself out in the hallway mirror; he
looked normal. Jack wanted to make sure that he pulled that off, a navy oxford
shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers, that all screamed normal to him.

Jack then mentally thought about what he was going to say to

the medium. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience in this. He could tell
her about Erin, maybe use her name. Also, he could say where she usually
appears and does. Probably shouldn't mention Erin getting naked as some kind of
birthday present. He then wished that the medium agreed a later time just so he
could rationalize having a drink.

During Thanksgiving dinner, Jack told his family that he

wanted to stay in Maine for a while, maybe until after Christmas. He had
exaggerated the effects that the disintegration of his relationship with Laura
had on him. It was a blatant lie; his parents knew it, his sisters didn't care,
but no one really questioned it.

He prayed that none of them would ever find out that he

booked a medium. This Ophelia from Portland, Jack didn't know what he wanted
from her. From movies, he had been told that ghosts that roam around usually
have unfinished business. If somehow the medium was legit and could talk to
Erin, he didn't know if it would be best if Erin moved on.

Opening the door, a young woman stood, waiting impatiently.

Their eyes met, and Jack was stunned to find his assumptions shattered. He was
expecting a woman in her fifties, heavy makeup, and lots of necklaces, someone
like that Long Island psychic. Instead, a woman stood in front of him who
looked like she was in her twenties, with blonde wavy hair and a curvy figure.
She gave an impression of an Instagram influencer with tight high-waisted
jeans, a simple tee, and a suede jacket.

"Jack Taylor?" she said, pinching her mouth shut

and curving her lips upward.

"Ophelia?" Jack arched an eyebrow without

thinking.

She nodded and walked past him, taking in the house. A

Victorian-style mansion, built in the 1860s, with five bedrooms, a parlor, a
giant fireplace that could fit a body, a near-constant fog-covered backyard,
and a bloody-red painted door. She looked unimpressed. Ophelia raised her hands
and fluttered her fingers, doing a sort of jazz hands while slowly spinning.
Jack had no idea what he was supposed to be feeling, but she's young and hot.
Was this a con? Did he want it to be one?

"Do you want anything to drink?" Jack asked,

trying to get a read of the situation. He then glanced at the clock. His
parents should be home in a couple of hours; he had time.

"I'm fine." She replied, flashing another smile.

"Should we deal with the money first?"

Taken back, he slowly reached for his wallet and pulled $150

in cash. He looked at the money and felt grateful that he would only pay an
extra fifty if the reading exceeded the hour. Handing her the folded bills,
Jack felt a breeze. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Erin. He
had been sensing her a lot, recently.

"Nice house. Really Stephen King-like." Ophelia

gave another forced smile. "Can you give me a tour?"

Jack nodded and he took her to the home office, explaining

what he had seen the other day. Ophelia took a quick photo and hummed; she felt
nothing. Jack then led her around the house, describing where he had seen Erin
and what she would do. Ophelia stayed quiet for most of the tour, her phone in
her hand, occasionally checking it.

He then explained his relationship with Erin. Jack recounted

every meeting he had with her, including how he found out her name. When Jack
said that he was the only one in the house that had ever seen Erin, he noticed
a quick change in Ophelia's face. She definitely assumed that he's psychotic.

As they climbed the stairs to Jack's bedroom, Ophelia

suddenly became talkative. She put away her phone and asked several questions
at rapid-fire speed. "So, who previously owned the house before you moved
in? Erin, do you know her last name? Where she's from? Was she born here? Has
anyone called Erin lived in the house before?"

Jack knew nothing. He had known Erin for ten years and yet

knew nothing about her. The house must have been her home or where she worked.
He now knew what he had to find out, but Jack had no idea how he would research
such things. Speak to a local historian, maybe? He should go to the library
tomorrow.

They entered his bedroom, a familiar feeling of cold hit his

body again. Jack eyed the psychic; there was no change in her body language.
Maybe she's a fake. Ophelia wandered around the room, doing the jazz hands
again and calling Erin's name. His eyes narrowed on her chest, then to her slim
waist, and then to her tight ass; she looked cute. It had been some time since
Jack had anything close to sex. It ended with Laura over two months ago, and
since then, a brunette ghost was the only thing he had to female company.

Ophelia reached in her jeans and pulled out a velvet pouch.

Opening it up, a nub of chalk fell into her palm. She then bent down and drew a
circle just in front of Jack's bed. The circle was about three feet wide.
Ophelia then drew four smaller circles inside the ring, north, east, south, and
west. Jack watched her place crystals in each circle, wondering if he would be
able to clean the chalk off his floor.

"What are you going to do?" Jack asked, trying not

to stare at the medium's ass.

"I am going to summon Erin. I am going to see if we can

talk to her and find out her unfinished business."

"What would her unfinished business be?"

"It could be anything," Ophelia said, looking

around the room. "Some want revenge, especially if they were like
murdered. Others are looking for missing rings, lockets or whatever. With my
help, Erin could be able to move on."

Jack nodded. She was right. It was fun seeing her again, he

missed talking to her, but there had to be some conclusion for Erin. After
Christmas, he will be back in Boston. Maybe it was best that she moved on, got
closure from this world.

The psychic then took off her boots and stood inside the

circle. Kneeling, Ophelia raised her arms, praying to the ceiling. "Erin;
Erin; Erin;" she chanted, raising her head, "Speak to us. Speak;
Erin, come to us; come to Jack and me."

She sang Erin's name a couple of times with no change in her

composure. "Yes, Erin, I hear you. How can we help you?" Ophelia
said, lacking any emotion. "How can we help you move?"

Ophelia then went silent and very still. Her back was

arched, and her head pointed up. Leaning in, Jack realized that her chest
wasn't moving anymore; was she even breathing? Beads of sweat flowed down her
face as the rest of the body began to tremble. Something was wrong. Ophelia
then shuddered and Jack could see the color disappear from her face.

She then slowly stood up. Looking at Jack, she gave him a

warm smile. "Jack!" Ophelia then said, emphasizing the wrong parts of
the name.

Jack walked around and stood in front of her. Her body

language was weird, not so closed off as it was before. Her eyes then focused
on her left hand, marveling how far it was extended. The tips of her fingers
then ran down Jack's chest. The broad grin on Ophelia's face got even wider as
she felt him up.

"It is me, Jack; Erin." Ophelia grinned.

"No." Jack shook his head and took a step back.

This had to be some weird psychic con. Was Ophelia going to sleep with him?
"Ophelia, I think you should get out."

"I am Erin." She closed the distance and reached

for his hand. "I can prove it. You told me everything and I listened. Once
you were overly excited in your classroom by a teacher. You frequently enjoy
lobster rolls. And once I removed my clothing for you on your birthday."

Jack whimpered, trying to collect his thoughts. Before he

called Ophelia, he had read up on cold reading, but she knew things that he had
never shared with anyone. Jack hit his bed frame and toppled over, hitting the
mattress. He tried to compute what was going on, justify Ophelia's insider
knowledge of him. But then the blonde climbed up on the bed, her body floating
as she straddled him. This was real.

"Jack; I missed you." Ophelia or Erin then leaned

in and kissed him forcibly. Quickly sneaking her tongue into his mouth while
she rubbed her body against his.

Moaning as his tongue dueled, Jack was lost in a world of

teenage lust. He had dreams about this, spent countless hours awkwardly
pleasuring himself to the fantasy of having sex with Erin. But as he opened his
eyes and remembered the blonde hair that flowed above him, this wasn't Erin.
Maybe in spirit, but not in body. He pulled his face away and sighed.

"Erin; no." Jack said, trying to push the

possessed medium off him. "Not like this."

"What?" Ophelia screamed. She shot back up and

glared at him. Her eyes became demonic and bloodshot. Her fingers dug into his
shoulders, breaking his skin. She began to shake and wail. "No; No;
No!"

"Erin; Erin!" Jack tried to get her attention. He

reached up and gently touched her face. "I just want to talk to you.
Please leave Ophelia."

Ophelia's face contorted into a smile. Jack could tell that

something was pushing back against Erin. Maybe it was the medium's spirit
wanting to regain her body. She thrashed around on top of him, going from
sweating to shivering to back to sweating again. Jack snuck out of her
convulsing frame and watched with concern. The medium then slammed into the
mattress, bounced high up in the air, and then back down.

Jack watched her breathe slowly and rolled onto her back.

She looked confused and tired. "What the fuck happened?" Ophelia
asked as she sat up, her frazzled hair covering her face.

 

Researching the Franklins.

Jack ended the call and rubbed his eyes. The pains of working

remotely, struggling to stay productive while also being forced to over
communicate just so he won't be called a slacker was too much. The only good
thing about his job was that he could move back to Maine and still collect a
paycheck. But yet, he hated taking calls from his bosses when it's technically
his day off.

He knew he shouldn't be cursing his luck. Last night, his

parents gave him some excellent news. They needed to go to Springfield and help
out Jack's aunt with something. Jack wasn't listening, just focusing on the
part when his mom said that they will not be returning until Christmas Eve.
Yes, it meant that Jack would have to prepare the house for the holidays, put
up the tree, buy the food and sort out the presents. But it also meant that he
would be alone in the house; he could plan and try to talk to Erin. Maybe even
help her.

Finishing his latte, Jack looked up the address for the

library and the closing time. Since Ophelia's possession, Jack hadn't sensed
Erin's presence. It was worrying. He tried to focus on absorbing as much
information about the house. Jack learned that the house was built in 1860 for
the Franklins. For more information, he had to drive into the city.

As he walked into the library, his heart was thumping in his

chest and sweat coated his forehead. Why was he so nervous? Yeah, he had
created this pubescent fantasy, and Jack wasn't sure how he would react if that
was cracked. What if Erin was an awful person; her death could have been just,
and that she was using him. But he still had to find out.

Jack sat down at the computer and entered his address and

the Franklins in the search bar. Skimming through the records, he got a brief
understanding of the family that built his home. Jedidiah Franklin was a local
lender who had moved from Boston to Maine due to some unpleasantness. He was
followed by his wife, Alice and their two children, Robert and Emma. Franklins
lived a dull and typical life and died in the 1900s.

"Nothing about Erin,"

He went through local newspapers and again found nothing

odd. Going through the search results, Jack quickly realized that he had been
wasting his time, and it was pointless. By the time he reached the fourteenth
page, he was about to leave. But instead, he clicked on the link about a
stagecoach accident involving the Franklins. Jedidiah, Alice, Robert, and their
maid were returning late one night. Their stagecoach collided with a rock, and
the maid was thrown out. She died instantly. The article gave the maid's name
as Erin O'Ceallachain.

Letting out a loud sigh and rubbing his face, Jack then

searched for Erin O'Ceallachain. There was little about her. A short obituary
that stated she was born somewhere in Ireland and died in 1898. She had been a
maid for the Franklins for close to a year. There were no descriptions of her
or any clues of her past.

Jack leaned back and stared at the screen. It could be her.

He had checked; there were no other women called Erin that lived in the house.
This could be her. But, if she died on the road, then why was she haunting his
home.

The loud sound of his phone vibrating against the desk

pulled him out of his thoughts. Jack saw that he got a text from Ophelia. She
really wanted to speak to him. Ignoring her, Jack continued his deep-dive on
the Franklins, trying to find anything. Even a morsel of information about the
family would help. After another hour of research, he ended up on the website
of an antique bookstore in Bangor. They had Alice Franklin's diary and it was
for sale.

 

Tomes of Inquiry.

Two days later, Jack sat in the home office and stared at

the five-hundred-dollar book. It was too much; he should have tried to haggle
them down. Jack wasn't even sure if the diary would be useful; it could be
another Alice Franklin or just a list of mundane observations.

Jack finished another beer and opened the diary. His hands

were trembling with every turn of the page. Either he was nervous or just
drunk, he couldn't tell. The pages were filled with fine late-twentieth-century
cursive writing that was hard to read. Jack slowly read out each entry, making
out every second word. The diary covered the time Erin had already started
working for the Franklins to her death if it was the same Alice Franklin.

He skimmed through the journal until stopping at an entry made

on January 28th, 1898, where Alice mentioned hiring a new maid called Erin.

March

Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  I saw Robert engaged young Erin in
the library. How I wish we do not have the same story as in Boston.

August

Fourteenth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  That green-eyed temptress was with my
son again. The Roman whore has plans for him. Jedidiah sees nothing. He pushes
his son. Then reacts in fury when Robert is in strife.

November

Sixth, Eighteen Ninety-eight;  Constable Standish and his ghastly son
shared supper with us. He has eyes for Emma. A boor. My darling daughter would
never fall that low. Robert is forlorn. I see his glances at young Erin. When I
call for her, the freckled-face jezebel smiles innocently. Jedidiah will end
her services in the new year.

Jack paused from reading, and tried to make sense. Green

eyes. Freckles. It had to be Erin. Jack skipped ahead a couple of weeks,
getting closer to the time when Erin died.

December

Twentieth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  The Irish whore created a scene. Late
in the evening, we found her under the influence. She screamed for Robert. She
said she is with child. He is the father. She wants to be wed. That boy has
ruined us.

December

Twenty-first, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  A clear-headed Erin spoke to us in
the morning. She lies that she is not with child. The Catholic loves Robert, or
it seems. Jedidiah and I agree to end her service. We will send her to Bangor
tonight. It is clear to us.

December

Twenty-ninth, Eighteen Ninety-eight ;  My heart is gone. Losing Emma is a
great blow. They are to be wed in the next Spring. My son now lives in Boston.
I pray his temperament is strong. Erin is gone, a life stopped by a stagecoach.
Now I have an empty house. A lost daughter and a dead maid.

Jack closed the diary and ran upstairs to his bedroom to

grab his notepad, then came back down again. He needs to do more cardio. The
two flights of stairs had destroyed him. He knew he had seen the name Standish
somewhere. There at the family tree. After Erin's death, Emma married Nathanial
Standish, son of the town constable. It made sense now; the Franklins murdered
Erin and used the constable to help make it look like an accident. In return,
they married Emma to his son to keep his silence.

He knew what happened to Erin, but Jack wondered how he

could help her. But; like what Ophelia said before, does he want her to move on
to the next stage. It probably would be best for everyone. But if he could talk
to her and discover her unfinished business, how could he help her. What if it
meant getting vengeance on those that murdered her? What if it was on
Franklin's living ancestors?

The sound of the doorbell ringing jolted Jack from the

thoughts of homicidal spirits. He checked his phone; it was nearly ten.
Finishing another beer, Jack left the den and shuffled to the front door. He
prayed that it wasn't his parents, that their stay in Massachusetts ended
early, and now they wanted to talk about his future.

"Ophelia?" Jack asked, opening the door.

 

Ophelia's Admissions.

She stood there in the light rain, looking like another

person. Far removed from the bored, unimpressed medium he saw days ago. She
looked nervous, worried, but still attractive to Jack's eyes. The skirt she had
on gave him a good view of her slender legs and made Jack think. Again, it had
been two months since he last had sex, and he was now feeling it.

"Hi," she said, barely audible. "Can I come

in?"

Jack nodded and let her pass. He tried not to look at her

like that anymore; he needed to stay focused on Erin.

"Look, I'm going to be honest with you. I'm a fake-ish.

I go to people's houses and pretend that I feel something. I do a bit of cold
reading, call out the spirits and then lie that they're talking back to
me." Ophelia admitted. She paced back and forth as she spoke, nervousness
flowing out from her.

"Oh," Jack said, looking away. He didn't know what

else he was supposed to say. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Also, my name isn't Ophelia, it's Lucy. I felt Ophelia

looked better on the website. Make it look real." She nervously smiled.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because;" she stepped forward, "what

happened that day was real. I felt it, I really did."

"Yeah?" Jack noticed that she was holding on to

his hand like she was pleading with him.

"I used to hear voices. I thought I was going crazy,

but then I found out that I was hearing the dead; and I could talk to them. But
I don't know, a mix of vodka, and my own cynicism; the spirits don't want to
talk to me anymore. I want to feel like that again. I want to help you."

Jack paused. Again, not knowing what to say. He felt that

she could still be conning him, that she was going to ask for money. He still
wasn't a hundred percent sure that Ophelia or Lucy was genuinely possessed by
Erin. Then again, they could have had sex, which would be a weird move to pull
when conning someone. Jack needed alcohol.

"Do you want anything to drink?" He asked.

"Please." Lucy nodded.

Jack returned from the kitchen with a bottle of red wine and

two glasses. It was the only alcoholic thing left in the house. After
completely filling up both glasses on Lucy's request, he grabbed the diary and
his notes, and they settled in the living room. He observed the psychic read
the journal, his thoughts becoming more and more concerned about her looks. She
had removed her thick coat, revealing a slinky tank top that gave him a glimpse
of her bra.

"So, you think Erin had sex with Robert Franklin; may

have gotten pregnant; and the Franklins decide to murder her, to prevent a
scandal?"

"Yeah," Jack said, leaning in. There were both

sitting on the sofa, awkwardly close together. "I don't know much or
really anything about hauntings. But I only see Erin here. She must have been
murdered here, and they faked the accident."

"Erin being an Irish maid, the family are rich, and you

got a friendly cop who is willing to help, if he gets a favor, that's a
straightforward cover-up." Lucy smiled, patting Jack on the knee.

"There is something we can do. I know people in the

psychic and magic world. There's one girl who told me about this ritual-like
thing. It's like a s ance on steroids. We can make her appear and we can talk
to her. Then we can help her."

"What's the catch? There is always a catch."

"Not really. The s ance is a bit complicated and there

is a shopping list, also it will be for a couple of hours only."

"Sounds like a plan," Jack replied, raising a

glass.

They quickly finished their wine and poured some more.

 Lucy asked him about his family and if they ever

believed him.

He told her about Dr. Miller, and how his dad would make the

occasional jokes. When asked about their absence, Jack explained, and without
realizing, underscoring that he had the whole house to himself. Jack then
turned the attention on her, quizzing Lucy what happened when she first talked
to a ghost; and what was the weirdest shit she had seen.

As Lucy went through her backstory.

Jack started picking up subtle clues about her. She was

touching him more and getting close as she talked about hearing spirits when
she turned thirteen. He tried to guess if Lucy was flirting with him, or was
this some alcohol-induced delusion. After she finished her story about being
asked to communicate with a woman's dead cat, they realized they were out of
wine. Jack asked and quickly got another bottle on Lucy's insistence.

"So, about you and Erin." She said, playing with

the stem of her wine glass. "You were the only one to see her?  What
relationship did you guys have?"

"Like a friendship. Growing up; Erin was like my

confidante. I would talk to her about every insane thought that was going
through my head that day. I didn't know if she could hear me or not. It was
comforting. I miss it. Guess that's why I'm here."

"That's sweet." Lucy ran her hand down his thigh.

"Sometimes I have some weird creeps that want to speak to their old
teenage crushes, like teachers or neighbors that they used to jerk off to. It's
nice to have a guy who just wants to reconnect to an old friend."

Jack groaned. Looking at Lucy, his mind was made up, and he

was sure that she was flirting with him. He should tell her the truth and see
how she takes it. "I should tell you this. I have seen her naked."

"Really?" Her eyes widened.

"Yeah. On my 18th birthday, Erin appeared in my room

and then flash, she's nude. She stood there for like a couple of seconds and
poof, gone." Jack smiled, "That was the last time I saw her."

"That's some present. Making me jealous." Lucy

whispered, holding her gaze.

"Really?" Jack said, leaning in.

Lucy looked up at him, her tongue running over her pink

lips. She craned her head forward and pressed her lips against his, her hand on
the back of Jack's head, pulling him into her. Both were still holding their
wine glasses, and Jack awkwardly pushed his mouth down on hers. Lucy's tongue
shot out of her mouth and instantly snaked into his. They both softly moaned as
Jack guided her body down on the sofa, nearly spilling her wine.

She then suddenly stopped her tongue movements and pulled

back. "Hold on, Ghostbuster." Lucy smirked, as she pushed Jack back
upright. Taking the wine from his hands, she placed both glasses on the coffee
table. With a shit-eating grin, Lucy grabbed Jack and resumed her mouth attack.
Jack ran his hands down from her sides to her ass, pulling her on top of his
lap.

Lucy reached down and pressed her palm on Jack's bulge. She

moaned into his mouth, sounding like she appreciated his size. She pulled her
lips away, her attention now just all on his cock. Lucy fondled the turgid
shaft through his pants, prompting it to throb in her hands. Jack leaned his
head and slowly kissed down her neck, feeling her tremble in his arms.

"Yes," Lucy said, closing her eyes and grinning.

With a single-minded focus, Lucy unbuckled his jeans and

yanked out his erect cock. Jack grunted, stunned by the blonde's eagerness. No
other girl he had ever been with, was like this. They kept eye-contact as Lucy
softly grasped his warm rigid shaft. Their lips met again while she stroked his
cock, smearing her fingers with his oozing precum. While their tongues dueled
again, Lucy's hand became a blur over his cock.

They broke their kiss again, and Lucy lowered her head down,

kissing his deep reddened tip. He watched in unbearable anticipation as she
opened her mouth, but then instead of engulfing him, Lucy looked up and
smirked.

"Yeah, I'm bit of a slut," she said.

"Just a bit? Jack grinned.

"Okay, I'm a deeply deprived slut." She chuckled.

Her very pink tongue then slid out of her mouth, and she licked up of his
oozing fluid. Lucy took a moment to taste his precum, loudly humming and
smiling at him. She then parted her lips and engulfed the bulging head in her
wet mouth, firmly constricting, once his glans ridge was encased. Her tongue
rubbed his frenulum, just under the tip.  She bobbed her head up and down,
her firm round tits jiggling freely on his thighs, as she mouth-fucked him.

"Oh; Fuck!" Jack grunted, taken by surprise by

Lucy swallowing on more and more of his petrified cock.

Lucy looked up and grinned at him again, before opening her mouth

and engulfing him again. Her bright pink glossy lips slid up and down his shaft
as she fucked him with her mouth. Then she sank til her nose rubbed his curly
pubes, her teasing tongue gently caressed him as her throat muscle massaged his
shaft, pushing his cock deeper. She hummed while she swallowed him, the hum of
sucking filling the room.

Her hands tightened their grip around his thighs as Lucy

furiously pumped her lips up and down his cock. Once in a while, she would
slowly pull his cock out, ever-so-gently running her teeth on the underside of
his shaft while leaving huge trails of spit behind, then swallowing him again.
It drove Jack mad in sexual bliss. She then wrapped her fingers firm around his
meat again, lashing her tongue against his swollen cockhead, slurping up all
the saliva and precum.

Jack's balls were now sending messages to his brain, telling

him that within seconds, he was going to cum; soon in big, bold letters. He
also felt cold suddenly, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing.
He ignored that and watched the medium jerk him off, kissing his head as she
worked the shaft of his phallus. Lucy stuck her tongue out and swirled it
around his cock tip. But then he saw a figure near the TV.

"Erin?" He said.

She was right there and looked like she was in tears.

A mix of fear and guilt hit him, destroying his previous

horniness. But he still came, shooting thick loads into Lucy's face, hitting
her in the lips and cheeks. She released her grip, but more jets of cum landed
on her face.

She raised her head and looked at Jack, the muscles in her

face tensed, and her jaw clenched. "What the fuck, man? Give me some
warning!"

"Erin?" Jack said again, staring at the spirit.

"Erin?" Lucy repeated. Her expression turned into

an instant glare. But she followed Jack's gaze and looked over her shoulder,
finding that they weren't alone. "Oh Fuck!"

"No!" Erin screamed, deafening their ears. Her

face was scrunched up in murderous intent. She lurched forward, and a force of
wind cleared the table, sweeping the diary and notebooks off the surface. Jack
and Lucy were pushed back by Erin's invisible energy, hitting the back of the
couch. Erin raised her hands, maybe to strike, but felt her power evaporating.
She looked at Jack, tears rolling down her cheeks, and then disappeared.

Holiday Trimmings.

Jack opened his eyes minutes before the alarm. It was

Saturday and around ten. He sat up in his bed, his head still woozy from last
night's drinking. He couldn't sleep and figured whiskey would knock him out.
Also, he wanted to block out Erin's screams from replaying in his head.

That face. Her expression dripping with anger and hurt. How

Erin tried to attack them.

He needed to say sorry. Erin probably won't believe him,

Jack knew. But he had to try. Then there was what Lucy said, finding comfort so
Erin can crossover. He hated thinking about that but realized that he couldn't
be selfish. It wasn't about him.

Jack's phone buzzed; he had gotten a text from his dad. It

just said, 'Tree!'. Jack groaned, but he slipped out of the covers and took a
shower. After getting dressed, Jack forced himself to eat something. He
couldn't feel her. Usually, in December, he would see Erin more often than the
rest of the year. Knowing that it was coming up to the day when she died, he
expected to feel her.

Two hours later, and overspending on a fir tree, Jack pulled

into the driveway, confused. Lucy sat in front of the door, waiting for him.
With a scared look on her face, she raised her hand and gave him a forced
smile. Was she looking for him or for Erin?

Jack climbed out of the car and slowly approached the young

blonde. He never thought how she would take it, seeing Erin like that. After
Erin faded away, Jack sat in silence while Lucy grabbed her stuff and bolted
out of the house.

"Hey," Jack muttered.

"So, I have been waiting here for an hour. I walked

away twice. But I really need to know. What the fuck did I see last
night?"

"I don't know," Jack said, looking away from

Lucy's glare. "I've never seen her like this. She has never been this
scary before. "Until;"

"Until what?" Lucy stood up and got close.

"You need to tell me."

Jack sighed. "When you first came to the house, you

tried to talk to her, right? Do you remember what happened next?"

Lucy shook her head.

"She took over your body and err; kissed me. We nearly

had sex. But I stopped her. Telling her that it was wrong," Jack said,
" to use your body like that." He quickly added. "Erin started
shaking and going all Linda Blair. Then you woke up."

"She gets rejected. Then she sees us on the couch,

doing you-know-what, and takes it like a cheated-on girlfriend. That explains
all the throwing."

"I never knew she could do that." Jack smiled.

"Can I ask you something?" Lucy stared into Jack's

eyes.

Jack shrugged and nodded his head.

"What are you two? Is she your ghost girlfriend? Are

you in love with her? What? Does she know what you are to her?"

"Like I said, yesterday. Erin is my friend. Maybe

there's more. I don't know, because I don't put labels on relationships with ghosts.
But if I can help her, I will help her. Are you still in?"

"Fuck it, yeah."

He looked around, seeing his neighbors staring at him and

Lucy. "Let's go inside. Can you give me a hand?" He asked, pointing
to the tree.

Lucy groaned but nodded her head. After undoing the bungee

cords and dragging the tree off the car roof, the two of them awkwardly hauled
the ten-foot fir inside the house. With Lucy leading, they pulled the tree into
the living room, where the blonde suddenly stopped.

 Jack was about to open his mouth, but he saw Erin

standing in the middle of the room, and he went quiet.

Erin raised her hands to her face, covering her eyes. Her

breathing short and quick. She was freaking out. Erin then dropped her hands,
clenching her fists as she glared at them. Her form floated to them, but unlike
last night, there was no rush of force. Erin's face dropped, shifting into a
scared expression.

Dropping the tree, Lucy ran to her. She raised her hands up

with open palms facing the spirit. "I am sorry. I am here to help
you." She said, out loud.

Erin didn't react.

"He wants to help you. He wants to talk to you."

Lucy pleaded with the spirit.

Again, Erin stayed motionless.

Lucy paused and looked over her shoulder at Jack. She

mouthed 'trust me' at him and turned back to the ghost. "You can take over
my body and speak to him. He would love that."

Erin frowned, then faded into nothing. Jack walked past

Lucy, trying to sense Erin's presence. There was nothing. He glanced at the
medium; she had gone stiff, just like before. Jack's eyes bulged, realizing
what was happening. But it was different. There was no sweat, no change in
color, or fear on her face. Lucy just let out a small pleasurable moan.

"Erin?"

"What?" The woman barked back at him.

"I just want to tell you that I am sorry. It was a

mistake."

"Liar. I saw you," Erin said, with no emotion in a

unique tone. "Ye enjoyed every moment with the bonnie lass. I do not wish
to intrude in your relationship with that adventuress." Her voice slowly
morphed from Lucy's Mid-Atlantic accent to a faint Irish brogue.

Jack sighed; he knew he had to deal with this. A simple

apology wasn't going to be enough.

"I'm so sorry about that. It's just that for a long

time, there was this small voice in the back of my mind, saying that you
weren't real and I was having a psychotic episode. When you saw me and Lucy, it
was just an extension of that. I doubt it will ever happen again. But I did all
this research so I can help you."

"Help me?"

"Yeah. I want to help you deal with whatever unfinished

business you have. Lucy as well. That's why she's here. So, please don't be
angry with her."

"Unfinished business?" the voice then went quiet.

She leaned in and kissed Jack on the cheek. Lucy's body went

limp and she nearly collapsed. Jack reached out and slid his arms under her. He
yelled out 'Erin'; then 'Lucy'; but got no answer. He dragged the unconscious
blonde to the sofa. Carefully setting her down, Jack then prodded her cheek,
trying to wake her up. She groaned and opened her eyes.

"So, what are we going to do?" Lucy said

immediately.

Business Gets Busy.

Jack looked at his phone as he walked through the front

door. It was another email from his bosses in Boston. He had way too many
people questioning his work. Being a cloud support engineer, he should be
focused on the job. But since talking to Lucy about the s ance, Jack had been
doing the bare minimum, and people were noticing. He figured that after he got
closure with Erin, he could move on.

Dumping the sage and wormwood on the coffee table, he saw

her. Erin had been appearing more and more. Jack could actually count the times
that she wasn't haunting the house. But he didn't get why; it was never this
frequent back before. And she wasn't just haunting if you could call it, Jack's
room. He had found her in the living room, kitchen and even the bathroom.

Right now, Erin was floating near the Christmas tree. It was

completely bare, left alone as Jack focused on work and the s ance
preparations. There was some judgment he felt he was getting from Erin, like
she still hadn't forgiven. Jack needed to remediate that, though he didn't
really know how to regain trust with a ghost.

He hunted for the Christmas decorations, taking longer than

he hoped. Jack was desperate not to call his parents and deal with an endless
conversation about how things were going in Springfield. Losing an hour to find
them, Jack started decorating the tree, hoping that this will help him get back
on Erin's good side.

She carefully observed him as he decorated the tree, coating

it in tinsel, lights and baubles. It appeared okay to Jack, the colors matched,
and the string lights were all working. But looking at Erin, he was sure he had
done something wrong. She wasn't that impressed.

Jack first thought that she was still pissed at him, but

then something hit him. While he saw her a lot during December, it was never on
Christmas. This could be her first experience of Christmas in over a hundred
years. With that, Jack opened his laptop and googled '19th century Christmas
trees'. Getting an idea of what Christmas looked like in Erin's time, Jack
grabbed his keys and told her that he will be back soon.

Two hours later, Jack returned, and Erin looked like she was

happy to see him. That's a positive sign, Jack said to himself as he emptied
out his shopping bags. He bounced around a couple of stores before finding
them, candle-like tree lights. Using real candles was a fire waiting to happen.
And Jack didn't want to explain to his parents that he burnt the house down to
impress a ghost.

He then pulled out a ready-made popcorn and cranberry

garland he got from a pop-up Christmas store. Looking at Erin, she approved by
smiling back at him. He then added tinsel and icicle-like ornaments with Erin
guiding him, pointing which branch needed something or if it was too much.
Taking a step back, Jack admired his work. It looked old fashioned but still
good. Seeing that Erin was happy was enough for him.

He grabbed a beer from the kitchen and toasted, "That's

one good-looking tree," he said, smiling at Erin.

She rolled her eyes at him but then disappeared. That was

getting Jack scared, her fading away just as they were bonding. It didn't look
voluntary, like Erin really wanted to go to her void. She had this horrified
look whenever it happened. Jack would then find her somewhere else in the
house, an hour or two later.

This time it was in the kitchen. He opened and closed the

refrigerator door and found her there. Taking a moment to recover, Jack went
back to making himself dinner. Erin hovered around him, curious at what he was
doing. Jack guessed that she must have been shocked, that not many men cooked
back in her time. He was also making pork chow-mein, and Jack wasn't sure how
widespread Chinese food was in the 19th century.

His phone began to buzz, and it was Lucy. Jack could see

Erin's face turn.

"She's probably asking about you," Jack said,

putting his phone on speaker, "Hey Lucy."

"Hey," she replied, "I got some news. We have

to move the date of the s ance to the 12th. There's a full moon and it will go
well with Hecate."

"Hecate?"

"Don't worry about it. Have you seen Erin since the

other day?" Lucy asked,

"Well, she is right here," Jack grinned at Erin,

"She's in the room with me."

"Whoa," she said, "How's that going? Wait

shit, can she hear me?"

Erin nodded.

"Yeah."

"Fuck. I mean shit. I mean I'm sorry," Lucy said,

sounding like she was getting out of breath, "Anyway, I also need you to
get some bundles of ash to burn. And candles, preferably black."

"What is actually going to happen during the

s ance?"

"Hopefully, we can summon Erin properly and you guys

can talk. Then maybe work out why is she here and if we can help her,
somehow."

Jack looked at Erin again. Her eyes were elsewhere. Jack

started to doubt himself; was this something that she wanted him to do.

"I will talk to you later, Lucy," Jack said,

ending the call. Looking up from his phone, he saw that Erin had disappeared
again.

If the s ance actually works, Jack needed to ask where she

goes whenever she vanishes. It didn't feel like a good place for her. Opening
another beer, Jack sat down to eat and tried not to think about Erin. It was
really hard. She still looked so sexy, and Jack was back replaying his
eighteenth birthday present. Jack admitted to himself that with Erin randomly
appearing in the house, he was feeling pent up.

 

Redhead Videos.

It was close to two in the morning when Jack knew what he

had to do. He had been rolling around his bed, got up twice and tried to dull
his brain by checking the news on his phone. He still couldn't sleep. The only
prescription that always worked for him was either whiskey or porn. As he
couldn't be bothered to go all the way downstairs, Jack powered on his laptop
and went straight to Porn.

Jack checked out the video thumbnails, hovering over them as

he tried to decide what he was in the mood for. Sometimes, he'd be craving
blondes with double D-cups, getting plowed by massive cocks. Other times, it
would be two lesbians slowly seducing each other. Milfs would be a good choice,
but Jack felt that the algorithm would always then suggest stepmom porn, which
he wasn't in to.

He searched for amateur porn with Eastern Europeans,

preferring their slender body shapes and lack of bad boob jobs. Jack sat up in
his bed and pulled down his shorts, slowly stroking his cock to full, rigid
life. He skipped the initial setup and forwarded it to the redhead pulling the
guy's dick out. She grinned at the camera then kissed the man's purple head.
Her tongue swirled around the tip before she quickly swallowed the man's cock.

Jack shifted his weight as the redhead stripped off her top,

revealing her decent-size tits. As the action turned to straight fucking with
the twenty-something waitress bent over a park bench, Jack pumped his cock. He
imagined himself there, in Prague, having hot, passionate sex in public. But
then he felt cold. Looking up, there she was.

Erin just appeared by the wall. She was confused and pressed

the back of her head. It looked as if someone had just woken up, but in a
different room than they were in before. She rolled her head around before
stopping, and stared at Jack, her mouth agaip. He was illuminated by his
laptop, so he knew that she could see what he was doing to himself.

"Oh, fuck," Jack groaned, but he didn't stop

stroking his cock.

He thought she would float away, or scream, or do something,

but Erin just stood there and watched. She even moved closer, standing at the
edge of the bed. Her eyes focusing on his throbbing cock.

Jack's heart was thumping as he frantically stroked his cock.

His eyes darted back and forth from Erin to his laptop; the redhead had been
replaced by a different model. She said that her name is Petra and is a med
student, but what really turned Jack on was how Petra resembled Erin.
Reddish-brown hair, slim body with perky tits, though she had tattoos and
pierced nipples.

His eyes bounced from Petra being fucked in a stall, to

Erin's eager look. It was getting too much for him. His imagination then brought
him to Prague again, but with Erin this time. He fucked her from behind, his
cock pumping her hot, wet pussy, cupping her tits and making Erin groan in deep
pleasure. Jack's balls were aching, then suddenly stopped, and he intensely
climaxed. His tip exploded, and shot after shot of cum raced from his cock.
Jack struggled to catch all his flying cum with a tissue.

After cleaning himself, Jack and Erin exchanged looks. She

was embarrassed, he could tell, staring at the ground and doing her most not to
make eye contact. He wanted to say something, but Erin left the room. She
didn't fade through the wall or vanish into anything, just walked away slowly.
Jack then instantly fell asleep, not knowing what else to do.

 

A S ance.

Jack opened the door, letting Lucy in. It was half two in

the morning, and he was getting scared. A small sliver of thought wondered if
she would let him down, or at least ask for $500 to proceed.

For the s ance, Lucy had gone all gothic, wearing a black

velvet dress and knee-high boots, also in black. She was carrying a large tote
bag. There was panic in her eyes. She apologized for her lateness, saying that
it took a while to get a cab.

Jack was instructed by her, to get bundles of sage and

wormwood for burning, plus ash. Lucy herself handled the weirder and harder to
find items. She pulled out a knife that she called an athame, a ceremonial
dagger Jack guessed. She also had a black bowl that she said is a water scry.
It was going to help them talk to Erin.

Jack led her to the kitchen and they quickly got ready.

While she cut the sage and wormwood with the athame, speaking in Latin, Jack
got the idea that this wasn't a con. It was real for her. That gave him hope.

"So, where should we do this?" Jack asked, taking

a steel bucket that she had handed him.

"Your room." Lucy said, pulling more stuff out of

her bag. "I've been thinking. You said you're the only one who saw her.
And you normally see her in your bedroom, right? I think that's where she was
murdered. By you sleeping there, a psychic link was created between you and
Erin."

Jack nodded. It made sense. They went to his bedroom; and

with Lucy's help, he pushed his bed and everything else to one side, giving
them space for the ritual. As they're going to make a fire, he opened the windows.
Jack looked at the smoke alarms; if they go off, will his parents get an alert?

Lucy got down on her knees and drew another circle on the

floor, this time, a simple one without any other symbols. Jack lit the candles,
twenty-four of them and placed them around the circle. Following her
instructions, he then sat the bucket in the middle of the ring and lit the
fire. Lucy took command of his bedside table and placed the porcelain bowl on
top of it. She filled it with water from a special-looking bottle and dropped a
crystal in it.

"Take this and put it in the fire. Also, say her name

in your head." Lucy said, handing him the sage and wormwood.

Jack nodded and shuffled to the fire, trying not to drop the

herbs.

'Erin, Erin, Erin,' he chanted in his head. He threw the

herbs into the fire and was immediately overwhelmed by the aroma. It tasted
sickly sweet, unnatural like. He then retreated behind Lucy; she was kneeling
on the floor and speaking into the bowl. It sounded like Latin; Jack could make
out the occasional word. She was calling out for Erin.

The fire grew larger and smoke billowed from the bucket,

looking like a volcano erupting. The smoke turned black, then blue and finally
into grey. Jack took a step forward, in a trance, his mouth wide open and his
hands trembling. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Lucy with her eyes clenched
shut and was now calling Erin's name. Her fingers dug into the table and she
frantically said 'Erin' over and over.

He saw the smoke begin to clear and a body appeared above

the fire. Jack gasped. Erin!

She looked stunned, her hand covering her face. He opened

his mouth but couldn't say a word, shocked. Color poured into her clothing,
turning the transparent household dress into black. Her skin returned to its
ivory color, while her hair became reddish-brown just as he saw ten years ago.

Lucy had stopped chanting; she also was staring at Erin. She

looked shocked, maybe a little scared. Lucy stood up and slowly shuffled
towards Jack, resting a hand on his shoulder; but she kept her distance from
Erin, using Jack as a possible human shield.

Erin was just as surprised as the two of them. She reached

out her arm, amazed by it. This was real.

Erin moved forward but awkwardly stumbled as if she missed a

step going downstairs. She then took a couple of more steps and touched the
floor, a new sensation for her. Taking a deep breath, Erin became dazed with
the menthol-like odor of burning sage. Her eyes lit up and a smile beamed from
her face; she could smell. She then turned her head, focusing on the two, who
had resurrected her.

Her clogs banged against the wooden floor as she walked to

Lucy. The psychic was trembling in her presence. Lucy flinched as she touched
her arm. "Thank ye," Erin whispered. She then leaned in, and kissed
the surprised blonde.

Lucy moaned, instantly enjoying the kiss. Jack watched on,

shocked. He didn't know if he should be terrified or turned on. Lucy wrapped
her hands around Erin's waist and pushed herself against the resurrected maid.
Overwhelmed by a sudden desire, Lucy slid her tongue deep into Erin's mouth.
She felt good, but so tired. Erin then released the medium and watched as Lucy
collapsed onto the floor in a deep sleep. She turned to Jack and grinned.

"Erin?" Jack asked. His hands were trembling and

he felt that he was going to sink into the floor. This is it, right? This was
what he wanted, but he had no idea how to respond. "Is it really
you?" He eventually spat out.

"Hi, Jack," Erin smiled.

"Fuck;" Jack said. He reached out and touched her

hand with his. Wasn't this just supposed to be a s ance?

"I can't believe I can touch you."

"Me too," Erin said.

"How are you?" Jack asked in a deeply sincere

tone.

"Confused. It felt I was being called by an unknown

force. Then it took me."

"I'm sorry, but I really wanted to talk to you."

"I understand. Oh, it feels good to be heard and to

speak with my own voice."

"I need to tell you something," Jack said,

"The reason we're talking is because I wanted to help you. But I never
asked if you actually needed my help."

She went quiet, looking like she was thinking something

over, in her head.

"You said about unfinished business. But I have none.

You have read Mrs. Franklin's words. I was never married. I was due to but the
bastard died in a brawl, in Boston. He lost all our money in a card game. I was
told that I had become too old to marry, and I had to work. The Franklins gave
me a job and that was it; until I met Robert. You know the rest."

"All I want now, is to spend time with the boy, whose

room became less of my prison, but a comfort from death. He was the only one
who saw me and talked to me. I couldn't speak to him, but I loved listening.
Now he is here, turned into a handsome man, educated and employed; umm I guess,
and still unmarried; strangely."

Jack smirked and opened his mouth, "I'm only

twenty-eight. Times have changed. Men and women now get married later."

"How pleasant." She gave a rueful smile. "But

I need to apologize."

"Why?"

"I feel I was being unfair to you. We are not to be married.

When I saw you with her," Erin said, pointing to a knocked-out Lucy,
"You were the only one I could reach and I felt jealous."

"That doesn't matter now. I really want you."

Jack leaned in and kissed her, a quick peck on the lips. She

flinched as their mouths touched. Jack pulled back, watching her closely,
terrified by a possible negative reaction. Erin's eyes widened and she smiled.

"Erin. I don't know how long we might have. Lucy just

said that we had to do this during the Witching Hour. If this is it, I want you
to experience something, anything that you never had."

There was wine downstairs. Food that Jack knew she would

have never had back in the 1880s, fancy desserts, fruit from across the world
and entirely new meals. He could make her dinner. Could she leave the house? If
she can, Jack could take her around the city, show her what had changed.

"I've had bad Christmases, since I was a child. I would

welcome some pleasure."

Erin pushed her mouth back against his and parted her lips,

allowing Jack's invading tongue in.

All the feelings the two of them felt, the romance, the

lust, the fear of the future disappeared as their kisses became more passionate
and intense. Jack slid his hand around Erin's waist, pulling her tightly in,
groaning as her tits crushed into his chest.

Erin then betrayed her Catholic upbringing and

nineteenth-century values; by running her hand and feeling up Jack's growing
bulge. Her mother would have called her a whore, her priest would say she is a
fallen woman; but it didn't matter to Erin anymore. His cock felt firm and
large in her hand, and she craved to see it properly.

Jack took the lead, gently guiding Erin to his bed. He could

feel the trepidation from her; Erin was covered in goosebumps and was stiff. He
was worried that he was taking things too fast; she was from a different time
and had different morals. As their legs hit the edge of his bed, Jack
reluctantly pulled back and stared at her. She looked so nervous.

Erin blushed. Her lips were trembling and her hands were

shaking. This was a sin to her. But that was long ago and she didn't care
anymore. She broke away from his grip and slowly pulled off her stiff work
shoes. She wanted to do this herself.

Erin remembered when Jack had turned 18, a deep

concentration was required to strip away her clothing; it wasn't like this now.
Erin slowly reached behind her and undid the clasp for her apron with her heart
thundering in her chest. She had only been naked in front of one man before
Jack. The apron fell to the floor and it was then followed by the bulky gray
dress.

Erin carefully watched Jack's face change as she slipped out

of her bloomers. She was scared by his confused face. Was she doing something
wrong? As Erin revealed her naked tits, she sighed, relieved that Jack was
actually confused by her underwear. Seconds later, Erin stood nude, her face
going red with embarrassment and excitement.

"You?"

Jack launched at Erin before she could finish her sentence.

He took her in his arms and drove his tongue deep down her mouth. His hands
shot up to her chest and he cupped her perky tits. Breaking away from her, Jack
stripped out of his clothes and then resumed his oral attack. He kissed down
her neck, reaching her tits. With no hesitation, Jack wrapped his lips around the
erect bud and sucked on them.

Erin moaned, shaking from Jack's aggression. She leaned up

and watched Jack play with her tits. Erin loved how his lips felt, the full
contact of his body and that it was Jack she was about to have sex with. She
let out another moan, shuddering as his fingers brushed against her pussy. Men
don't do that.

Jack then released her tits and straightened up. "Sorry

for the interruption," he smirked.

"No;" Erin smiled, "Men were never like this;

with me."

An idea hit him and Jack grinned to himself. He lowered his

head and gave Erin a quick kiss. He then pushed her down on the bed and
shuffled back on his knees. She sighed and her eyes widened as Jack parted her
legs. This wasn't the nineteenth century anymore; sex had evolved. Jack drifted
his eyes down to her crotch. Brown hair shaped in an irregular-looking triangle
surrounded her puffy lips and throbbing clit. Erin had more hair than he was
used to, but Jack didn't mind and laid down in between her thighs.

"Oh, almighty!" Erin cried as she felt his lips

kiss up her thigh. No man had ever done anything like this to her, and she was
struggling not to lose her composure.

Jack stuck his tongue out, lowering it down to the edge of

Erin's moist pussy. Tiny drips of her juices slowly trickled. Flattening his
tongue, Jack gently lapped her cunt up and down. Erin swooned, loudly moaning.
This was a new sensation. She began to shake and Jack sped up his attack on her
pussy.

Hearing her groan louder and louder, Jack moved to her clit.

Just by giving it a couple of flicks of his tongue made Erin scream and shake.
Placing his hands around her waist, Jack continued probing her clit, gently
playing with it. He stopped to look up at her, seeing Erin breathing heavily and
her bottom lip trembling. She looked so gorgeous. Smiling, Jack wrapped his
lips around her clit and sucked hard on it.

"Oh; God!" Erin yelled, "Jesus Christ!"

she then covered her mouth immediately, shocked that she had broken the Third
Commandment. Thoughts of confession and repentance escaped her; Erin just
wanted more.

Jack released her throbbing clit and sucked on Erin's

swollen pussy lips. He then stuck out his tongue and gradually slid in, moving
deep into the pink folds of her cunt.

Erin shuddered as she felt Jack's nose up against her clit.

Without thinking, she raised her hands to her tits, pulling and pinching her
nipples. It felt so wrong, but Erin loved the sharp pain. She bit her lip,
trying to hold in her screams.

Jack swirled his tongue around her pussy, feeling every fold

and bump of her pink folds. He thrust his tongue quickly in and out of her
drenched cunt. Erin groaned again, getting close to hyperventilating. She
pushed Jack's head deep against her pussy. Urged on by her sounds, Jack thrust
his tongue deeper into her. He moved back to her clit, circling it and flicking
the tiny engorged bud. Before Erin could catch her breath, Jack resumed
tongue-fucking her pussy.

"Oh; Oh God. Yes." Erin screamed, violently

shaking her head. She began breathing deeply, inhaling all the oxygen she
could. She threw her head back, clutching the back of Jack's head as he drove
his tongue in and out of her cunt. Letting out another shrill cry, Erin felt
her whole body become rigid, experiencing her first orgasm.

Moaning loudly and covered in sweat, Erin slowly began to

relax. She knew she was right about him. Jack looked up and met her gaze,
seeing her breathing deeply but smiling. He marveled at the sight of her
heaving tits; her nipples were standing up in the air, begging to be kissed.
But Jack focused on licking every bit of juice that spurted out of her pussy
and went back to lapping her drenched cunt.

He then raised his pussy juice-covered face, and Jack

smirked at Erin. He crawled up the bed, wrapping his arms around her. Without
any hesitation, she covered his face with kisses, tasting her own cum. Erin
then stopped and looked him in the eyes and kissed him on the mouth. Soon their
tongues met again, playing with each other's inside their mouths. Erin rested
her hand on his thigh, slowly inching it up and up. She then felt Jack's
rock-hard cock bouncing against her flat stomach. Quickly, she grasped hold of
it.

Their kissing stopped and the two stared at each other's

eyes while Erin slowly stroked Jack's cock. She had never felt one. Her mother
told her that she would be taken to Hell if she ever touched a penis. Erin
didn't care about fire and brimstone; she wanted to feel his cock inside her.
"Please; please me. I want it."

Jack smirked. He didn't know what else to do but smile. He

stared at Erin; her hair was a mess, she looked exhausted and covered in sweat.
But to him, she looked as beautiful as she ever did. Jack kissed her again and
gently positioned Erin on her back. Sliding a pillow under her ass, Jack then
kneeled before her soaked pussy. Erin got the hint and raised open her legs, a
mix of fear and eagerness hitting her as Jack leaned in. Instantly, his cock
zeroed in on the opening of her cunt. With a deep grunt, Jack thrust his cock
into her dripping pussy.

"Oh, Jesus;" Erin groaned and pushed her head back

against the pillow. Her lips curled into a smile, enjoying the incredibly
fulfilling feeling of Jack's embedded cock. She pulled down on his shoulders,
lowering his face to hers. Their lips instantly parted and their tongue met
again.

As they kissed, Erin wrapped her legs around Jack's waist,

pulling him closer. The subconscious move shocked her; she was told that women
just lay back, open their legs, and stare at the ceiling. Something happened
when Erin took over Lucy's mind, she realized. Erin had gained a little
knowledge of 21st-century sex from the medium. It excited her.

Jack held on to her tightly, slipping his cock out of her

slick pussy and then plunging it back deep into her. Desperately, he wanted
Erin to enjoy this night no matter what might happen next. As he pounded her,
Erin and Jack continued their embrace, their overactive tongues dueling. They
were both moaning, but Erin began to twitch. Breaking away from Jack's mouth,
she started to quietly cry as she felt every individual penetration.

"Oh; lord; oh lord." She grunted.

Erin frantically shook her head. Her cries got louder and

more frequent. Jack ignored her; he had lowered his head to her tits. His lips
clamped down on the pink nipple as he slammed his throbbing cock. Erin was
struggling to stay calm. The feeling of Jack playing her with tits while he
relentlessly pounded her pussy was too much for her.

"Oh, yes;" Erin hissed as she came. She went

rigid, then shook violently.

Jack released her tits and slid his hand down to Erin's

clit. He watched her eyes widened, shocked as his fingers frantically rubbed
the tiny engorged organ. Jack increased his pace, slamming his cock harder into
her pussy. He leaned his head in, keeping eye contact with her green eyes. They
told him that another orgasm was building deep inside Erin. He grinned as he
continued to play with her clit, tracing his finger around the throbbing bud.

"Oh; Lord. Oh, Jesus Christ." Erin screamed,

beginning to hyperventilate. "Again?" She cried, realizing that she
was about to hit her third orgasm of the night.

Grunting, Jack thrust his cock in and out of her pussy as

hard as he could. He needed her to cum. Erin gritted her teeth as she shook.
Both of them were now covered in sweat and the smell of sex had overfilled the
room. They were frantically fucking each other, both desperately trying to
reach that breaking point so they could cum. Erin's breathing became more
labored and intense, and she begged Jack to fuck her harder.

"Yes; yes;" Erin hissed again, "Oh Lord;

Jesus Christ!" She yelled.

Erin's whole body began to manically shake, her arms

flailing as if she was having a seizure. Jack held her firmly, rapidly
thrusting his cock as he watched the ghost ride through another climax. Her
pussy tightened around his cock, gripping it hard as he pumped. Erin grunted
and groaned before letting out another cry. Her pussy exploded and spectral
juices gushed out, coating Jack's plunging cock.

As Erin went limp, Jack could feel the pressure in his balls

growing to an unbearable amount. He felt his cock twitch and knew that cumming
was no longer unavoidable. Jack groaned as he felt his balls beginning to empty
and his load rushing up his shaft. Suddenly, a torrid of cum then shot out of
his cock and landed into Erin's warm slippery pussy. A second spurt and then
another one soon filled her. Both Jack and Erin moaned simultaneously as he
finished cumming.

He pulled his sore cock out of her and collapsed next to

Erin. His eyes focused on her relaxed form. She had this small smile on her
face, a very satisfied smile. She remembered her last time with Robert; it was
nothing compared to what just happened. Erin moaned as she felt cum drip out of
her pussy, loving the feeling.

Jack leaned up and kissed her on the lips. But he fell

through her and hit the pillow underneath. Jack turned and with a terrified
look, Erin slowly faded away like she was nothing. This was not supposed to
happen. Jack yelled out her name, but this an unnatural tiredness came over
him; it was as if he had been awake for days, and he crashed on the mattress,
fast asleep.

To be continued. Based on a post by zeon 67.

For Literotica.

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