It was all part of the deal I had with her. Or what remained of her. I got the handsome men into her room, into her bed, then made them horny as hell, leaving the rest to her. What did I get out of the deal? Well, let us just say, a certain satisfaction and the occasional physical favour that a girl just could not bear to turn down.
He was lying in the bed, watching my back as if hypnotised. I was wearing my tightest little black skirt, sheer black tights and patent black heels that made my legs look incredible. They were good anyway, but in those heels they could stop traffic. I had opened a couple of the top buttons of my crisp white blouse so every time I breathed deeply my breasts heaved in a manner calculated to reduce any man (and quite a few women in my experience) to tears.
I was playing my best hotel maid act, even though he must have known that was not part of my job here. ‘Reception Supervisor’, it says on my proper badge, but who reads badges?
I bent over at the waist as I ran a duster along the bottom of the wall mirror, and I could feel the hem of my skirt riding slowly up until the bottom curves of my arse cheeks peeped into view and I heard his sharp intake of breath. If drooling made a sound, he would have been making it now.
I was wearing my long brunette hair down as I knew no man could resist long curly hair on a woman. Especially not when it was teamed up with my big brown eyes. I swung round to face him and that hair swept round with me, rolling around my face.
“I think you booked me into this room under false pretences,” he said, “You told me it was haunted, and I have had the best night's sleep I have had in an age. Not a spirit to be seen or heard.”
He was lying on the bed under a thin sheet and shamelessly sporting a huge erection. For a moment I was envious of what she might do with him and the pleasures she would give him, but that was part of the deal.
“To tell you the truth,” I murmured, perching myself on the very end of the bed, “it’s not the room that is haunted. It is just the bed.”
“By you, I hope,” he said, patting the bed by his side.
“No, not by me,” I smiled. “By the ghost of a nymphomaniac who died in this very bed years ago” He laughed at me and flicked back the sheet at his side and patted at for me to come and join him “Oh it’s true,” I said “She was having an orgy with three men and her heart gave out before she got the final orgasm and pleasure she wanted. Needed. And since then she has haunted this bed trying to lose that final frustration. On bad nights, you can hear her wailing from the corridor.”
He was giving what would once have been called an old fashioned look as I spoke.
“Me?” I said “I do my part. I book all you horny young men into this room so she can try to get that final moment of absolute pleasure that will set her soul free.”
I stood from the bed and turned to face him, hands on my hips. He was lying beneath a thin sheet, his erection tenting it between his legs at the frustrated thought of having his wicked way with me, his hands behind his head, his legs spread in what I imagined he thought of as an enticing pose.
We held eye contact for a long minute, and I felt the cool shiver about my nipples as the room temperature dropped slightly and we were no longer alone.
As I watched silent columns of white cotton rose from the sheet at the corners of the bed until they stood maybe a foot high. He didn’t notice them at first, but when he did his eyes went sideways with shock and something between lust and horror.
“She used to like to start by running her hand down her lover’s back,” I whispered, then laughed as I heard him scream. This was all part of our little scheme, her and I. When I said that I knew he could feel her phantom hand run the length of his spine in a loving caress.
Eyes wide he looked at me in disbelief, and faster than the eye could follow those columns of silently swaying cotton moved. They darted towards him, swiftly twined themselves about his wrists and ankles and jerked back. His limbs were pulled sharply out from him and suddenly he found himself bound to the bed in a tight spread-eagle.
This was always my favourite part of her arrival. Watching her victim trying to get free. They always fought, fought those soft white sheets like a thing possessed, but all they ever achieved was to pull the knots tighter and make their escape completely impossible. Her response was always to pull the bonds tighter until all they could move was their head, their limbs belonged to her.
Did I like to watch? Yes, I am afraid I did. The bitch that lived only a short way down in my soul liked to see them being tormented while she tried to get her pleasure from them. The more they got turned on, the more solid her spirit became, and the more pleasure she could get from them.
“She was a redhead,” I said to the air in general “A big, buxom redhead with a warm soft body and legs like you would not believe.”
He was looking at me as I stood at the end of the bed, and I watched him twitch and look down at his own body as he felt something stirring beneath his raging manhood. He whimpered as a phantom hand rose up between his helplessly spread legs and bent towards him. Long, delicate, silky fingers caressed the throbbing tip and I watched as his fluids welled up and dripped silently while he whimpered.
I could hear her gently chuckling now. He must have been even more lusty than her usual victims. Her spirit drew power and substance from her restrained victim’s lust and sexual frustration, but usually she did not manifest herself until much later in her visitations. Maybe he would be the one to set her spirit free.
The hand lowered itself and cupped his bobbing balls in her palm before rolling them gently around her phantom palm. As I watched, her see-through phantom hand took on form with a speed that amazed me.
As the teasing hand lowered itself out of sight another pale pillar arose, this time with a mouth at its end. The lips were generous and red, and as it reached a height where he could see it down the length of his pinioned body a large tongue emerged from between them and rolled itself about the lips until they glistened in as sensuous a manner as I had ever seen.
He watched still and fascinated as it bent over and fastened itself to the tender top of his manhood and started to suck. I watched it bobbing up and down, and the phantom cheeks that had appeared either side of the mouth periodically bulged as the tongue danced across what must have been an agonisingly tender tip to his manhood.
His head bent backwards against the pillow and he let out a wail that was more animal than human. As I watched a face started to appear around that phantom mouth and cheeks, a full, pale face with sparkling eyes I had never seen before. Her face. The lips and face began to plunge up and down on his manhood until he was screaming, and then he came. I suddenly realised there was a neck made flesh below the face, and I watched her swallow desperately as he came into that phantom mouth.
As his manhood deflated for a moment I watched the fast appearing face lick its lips and bend forward again. The tongue ran the length of his flagging manhood from root to tender tip in one long, smooth movement and moments later it was erect and bobbing again.
As the sparkling eyes met his, the phantom hand rose again, took a firm grip on him and proceeded to wank him hard and fast until he was screaming, and I watched as he came again.
Now I could see waves of red hair appearing on the back of a fast solidifying head, and the beginnings of the faint outlines of a voluptuous body of wicked flesh.
A second hand appeared about the sheets and gestured to me, gestured towards his upper body, then settled out of sight below the sheets. I was confused, what did her spirit want me to do? Then the hand reappeared beside his head and gestured towards his face before fading gently away.
I understood, or at least I hoped I did. I slipped swiftly out of my clothes and moved swiftly to the head of the bed. I knew he spirit fed on the sexual energies or her victims so I guessed this was my time to make him give off more.
I bent forward and kissed him hard on the mouth, pressing my tongue inside before I hauled myself up on the bed and did the only thing I could think of to add to his excitement. I swung my legs over his face and settled my pussy right down on his mouth, letting as much of my weight as I dared pin his head to the bed, then wriggled gently.
I felt his tongue reach out first tentatively, then with more vigour into me and I heard myself let out a little cry at the unexpected waves of pleasure. Watching the actions before me had clearly turned me on far more than I had realised. I leant forward and allowed some of my weight to give him the feeling of being pinned down from above, and as I looked up I found myself looking into the fully formed face of the spirit that haunted the bed.
Her flesh was pale, her eyes sparkling hazel and there were waves of wavy red hair dancing about her beautiful face. She blew me a kiss before standing up from the bed.
“Thank you,” she whispered “I am free at last.”
I made to speak but her big hands grasped the side of my head and pressed it downwards to unexpected force. Suddenly his huge cock was in my mouth and as I tried to pull back I felt wraps of cloth closing tightly about my wrists and ankles, pinning me over his body.
I tipped back my head as far as I could, not being able to pull back far enough to release my mouth from his erection and saw her standing fully formed at the end of the bed. Her body was all sexy curves and the deep lesbian in me wanted to be in bed with both of them.
As I watched, sexy undies appeared fully formed on her curves, swiftly followed by high heels and a tight black dress. She smiled at us, fastened tightly to the bed.
“The thing is,” she said “Someone has to keep all that sexual energy going so I can actually leave this place. And right now that is what you two little love birds are going to have to do. I reckon three orgasms apiece should get me loose. Of course, until you manage that, that bed will keep you tied up there until you do.”
She threw back her head and laughed, that mass of red hair flying everywhere.
“You might want to put your backs into it mind,” she said, “because the spirit of the bed will make you both do some terrible things in the pursuit of sexual pleasure. I know, I was there for years.”
And with that, she was gone, and we were both still tied there. Him tightly spread-eagled beneath me, and me tied sixty nine style on top of him. Unbidden I felt my bonds pull outwards so I was even tighter pressed against his prone body. After a brief pause I felt his tongue flicker across my clit, and I applied my bobbing head to his throbbing manhood. It had the potential to be a long night. Or, if we could not produce the relevant number of orgasms, an even longer time.
