Abigail sighed, her breath visibly escaping from her lungs. It was a cold night at the McLeachern Cemetery, and she was glad to have brought her jacket and hot cocoa.
Abigail had been the night watchman at the notorious cemetery for coming up on a year, but never understood why people thought it was haunted. Not like she believed in that nonsense anyway. Her job was to stop vagrants from wandering in in a drunken stupor, looking for a place to sleep. Nothing more.
She sighed again. Another boring night. Nobody comes around during the cold seasons. She plopped her legs up on her desk and read one of Reverend Rum’s newest erotic thrillers. She really enjoyed the vivid imagery he splooged on every page, and especially liked the enthralling dialog carefully crafted to capture the pure essence of love.
thump
Abigail didn’t even look up. Must have been a raccoon or a opossum. They like to make noises. The little bastards used to startle her, but she had become accustomed to their chattering.
THUMP
Okay, maybe not a raccoon. Abigail put down her book and grabbed her flashlight. She was almost done reading her story, and it was getting spicy; she was sprung and wasn’t happy.
Leaving the guardhouse, she saw movement in the fog on top of the hill, near the old mausoleum. The full moon gave it a spooky vibe.
“Must be some kid vandalizing tombstones. No respect for the dead…”. Abigail had dealt with these situations before. The kid or kids would run the moment they knew they were caught. She didn’t turn on her flashlight to avoid alerting them to her coming. Might as well give them a scare.
But what she found on the top of that hill would be giving her the scare instead. There she saw it, floating a foot off the ground, moaning and howling as it hovered in circles. It was a ghost!
She breathed in sharply, surprised. The air was cold, it stung.
“Who...what...what...WHAT!?”
It was a ghost!
Abigail began to run for her life.
“Wait!” the ghost wailed.
Abigail stopped and turned around. The apparition didn’t sound scary. He sounded almost sad. She also noticed her was very handsome...and also naked.
“Please don’t go...” wailed the mournful spirit.
Abigail walked closer.
“I’m so lonely. I’ve been dead for so long and haven’t had anybody to talk to.”
“This wasn’t in my job description. I’m not here to entertain ghosts.”
“Let’s just say this falls under ‘other duties as necessary’”, said the handsome ghost, “my name is Max...”.
“Abigail...” said Abigail.
“It’s very nice to meet you Abigail...” said Max.
“You too…” Abigail replied
“Would you stay and talk with me?”
She had nothing better to do, so she plopped down on a tomb and chatted with Max, his rippling muscles did not go unnoticed, nor did her noticing not go unnoticed.
To her surprise, Max was actually very interesting for a ghost. He had so many stories to tell. He had been killed in the American Revolutionary War. He was one of the first British soldiers to make landfall.
And Max listened to Abigail too. He was enthralled by her stories of her past as a pastry chef, at least until the Great Recession took her business away.
They laughed and laughed for hours. She’d playfully but softly shove his shoulder. He’d whisper the secrets of the afterlife in her ear. They were having fun.
“Well I hate to sound unsympathetic, but I’m glad in a way that your cake shop had to shut down. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.”
“I should go...”
“I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me.”
“Oh no, not at all...I really should get back to my book. I’m almost at the climax.” Abigail was playing coy.
“I’ll get you to the climax”.
Then they had sex.
The end.
I need to eat banana creme pie with my hands after reading this.
such erotica! provin' love is realllllll
I'm stirred
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Fucken fade to black.
Penis magic.