Apr 6th, 2015
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  1. You could blame the internet, you suppose. Those monster girl threads certainly didn’t help. But when it comes down to it, no. No, that would be a disservice. You even fell in love with her long before you considered ghosts scary. You remained in love with her long after, too. Long before “monstergirls” became a thing to you. That’s how you justify it. When she asked you the whys and the hows, and blushed profusely when you gave them to her, that was how you justified it. Love. Who cares if you were related? Well, not that it mattered to her that much.
  3. That’s how you knew you loved her for her, not for what she was. Ever since you were young, there was a painting. Throughout your life, it was there, going through puberty, it was there, and into adulthood, it was there. It was a painting of a young, beautiful girl, with moonlit skin, and hair so dark it seemed to be woven of the night itself. She was in a white somewhat plain dress that looked absolutely stunning on her, propping up a modest amount of cleavage. She held her hands to herself, and looked at the artist, a man you both wish to worship in gratitude and murder in jealousy. She had a beautiful, if somewhat sad face, and she seemed to reach out of the piece, and beg the viewer to take her away, somewhere far from here. No one would.
  5. You were twenty one, with a steady source of income via inheritance and long-term investments. The century-owned family mansion burned down, and your grandmother, the young owner at the time made a fortune in insurance. You recall her telling you once, after few shots of whisky, how she felt this strange, unnatural compulsion to save that painting and only that painting. Everything else was engulfed in fire. Your father was a fool, and eloped with another woman many years before hand, after driving your weak-willed mother to suicide. You were an infant at the time, and as a result, you were raised by your grandmother, and only you were to inherit the vast fortune collecting interest in sturdy investments the wily old woman had made, whilst herself living out a modest existence.
  7. The very same woman who was now making eyes at the old man across street. You place the cup of tea she brewed down on the little table between the two of you, as the busy sounds of the street flow into the open patio like wind, your fringe shifting slightly at the insistent cacophony.
  9. “Can you not do that?”
  11. She smirks, “Oh dear, I’m just trying to live a little.”
  13. “I doubt he can even get it up, Grandma.”
  15. She frowns, “I didn’t raise you to judge a book by its cover, Henry.” Her expression softens as you throw your hands up in defeat, she licks her lips as she looks at you, “And some books have very. Very stiff pages.”
  17. “Ugh. Don’t do that.” She laughs a soft tinkling laugh, reminiscent of a wind chime.
  19. “So? What are you here for, son? Are you having trouble settling in?”
  21. “No, no, I moved into the place all right. Set my stuff up, too and had my first week. Decent sleep.”
  23. “Oh, good good. You know I always tell you how important a long nights rest is.” She continues in a voice too soft to hear, “Well you don’t want your nights as peaceful as mine either I suppose.”
  25. “What was that?”
  27. “Oh, nothing dear. So, what can I help you with?”
  29. “Ah,” You take a sip, “Well actually, it occurred to me last night, you remember that painting I always liked?”
  31. She hesitates… “The one of the young girl?”
  33. You grin, “Yeah that one. I was wondering if you’d let me have it. I sort of miss it.”
  35. She doesn’t answer, frowning slightly, she takes a sip of tea. “Do you need it? I think you may be too attached to that girl, dear.”
  37. You laugh, “Nah, not need. Want I guess. And it’s a painting, grandma. There are far stranger things for me to miss.”
  39. “I guess that’s true… It reminds me though…” Much of the street noise fades out a cloud over head rolling by to cast long shadows across the ground. A cool wind blows in, causing your grandmother to lean forward, wrapping her shawl tighter about herself. “I’ve been hearing… rumours.”
  41. You frown, curious and weary, “Rumours?”
  43. “Do you know that abandoned factory they built atop the levelled ruins of our home?” Your eyebrow raises,
  45. “Yeah… it’s been abandoned for a while now. What about it?”
  47. She takes a deep breath, “They’re saying it’s haunted. Kids go missing, dead animals.”
  49. “Well a lot of that is probably embellishment. I do know that no one goes near there, though. What does that have to do with this?”
  51. “Ah, I never told you, did I?”
  53. “T-Told me what?”
  55. “Well, you wouldn’t know it, because you weren’t alive yet when the place burnt down, but family legend had it that the place was actually haunted by the girl in that very painting. I even saw her once or twice myself,” You slip out of the conversation as you digest that. Your heart fills with an emotion you don’t understand, and a determination comes over you, “… few even went missing. No one went into that room from then on, and now supposedly this factory is haunted too. I’m just saying… be careful, I guess. You can have the painting.” She laughs softly, “I owe it to the painting, I guess, it spent more time raising you than I did. Such a strange child. You’d sit and stare at it for hours.” You squirm and blush, “Why is that something that makes you embarrassed?!” She sighs, head in hands, “Well, whatever.”
  57. You both take another sip of tea, and think on the implications, a childish excitement rising from within you, the likes of which you haven’t felt in a long long time.
  60. * * * *
  63. Two days later, in a thick jacket to stave off the cold night air, you stand next to your car in the parking lot of the abandoned factory, big dumb grin plastered across your face, a torch in one hand. You briefly considered bringing her something, assuming you can find her, but you realised you don’t know what a girl like her would like. You know nothing about her. Best to just stick to the bare essentials. You bring the only thing worth bringing, as you step past the hole you cut in the chain fence; you.
  65. Broken bottles lay around the perimeter, along with graffiti upon the walls, but peering in through the locked window you see it’s remarkably clean. You duck under the beams of headlights that pass, and pull out a roll of duct tape. You run lines of the tape across the window, covering up most of the surface area. The grass below the window is soft, so falling glass shouldn’t make any noise. You take a nearby rock in hand, and take your jacket off, putting it against the taped up window, and smack it strongly with the rock a few times, until the shattered glass begins to push in, having slipped out of its frame, the odd, muffled tinkle of a shard not caught in the tape the only sound.
  67. The whole sheet of taped glass folds under its own weight and you toss the unwieldy thing aside, entering through the open window, boots crushing the odd shard. Your suspicions are confirmed. Few dare to venture in here, as evidenced by the lack of graffiti or litter. You toss the rock aside, you won’t need it. A shiver runs down your spine as the darkness stares back at you. Nothing yet, but you get the distinct feeling that you aren’t alone.
  69. You begin to walk, footsteps echoing through the shadows. A chill air falls across you, and to your left, a light begins to flicker on and off. It’s the exit sign. Clearly she wants you to stay, you think wryly to yourself. You begin to head deeper, passing through the dark offices, smacking your legs and shins against hidden desks, and static screaming TVs. Doors swing shut behind you, and you begin to hear your footsteps echo bac to you at irregular intervals, the chill centralizing on the back of your neck, like something is breathing on you, bearing down on you, and yet when you spin, there’s nothing there, and the sensation fades, only to return a time later, surrounding you, one and many.
  71. Ignoring all the warning signs, you head deeper into the factory, entering the underground levels and the basement. The upper level at least had the moonlight filtering in, through the grey clouds, here, pure blackness dominates, and a hyper awareness takes over as your ere come to truly adjust. Your sixth sense activates at you stalk through the ruins, feeling where sharp desk corners are, and avoiding them before they can strike you. You turn around and a torso stares at you, and your heart clenches at your throat as you swipe it’s head. The globe falls upon the roughly rectangular blanket, and the phantom dissipates.
  73. “It was nothing…” you breathe a sigh of relief which is strangled when the door you just entered slams shut. You bury your head to hide your grin, excitement, and fear coursing within and crashing like two dissonant tides. Whatever it is, it’s getting closer, more active. Time to up the ante.
  75. You leap to your feet, and begin to walk towards the other door, which sends you into an aisle of broken glass and falling wall papers, a corridor with doors along the sides, opening into private offices. You pick up your pace as you head down, walking faster until you’re running, until you’re sprinting, turning your head left and right as you pass each open door, a figure hidden in shadow within the room coming closer to the door entering the corridor, each room you pass, the last leaping for you with an unearthly scream, fangs glistening under fluttering streams of black hair. Your eyes go wide and you gasp in apparent fear. It’s her!
  77. You trip at just the right time, and roll, your lungs burning with the sudden sprint, cold sweat freezing to you, making you feel clammy and uncomfortable. Whatever it was sails past and disappears, and you begin to sprint down the factory floors, leaping over tables. You barely leave the corridor and enter one of the larger floors when you already feel the predator behind you. It remains a dissonant step behind however, and you begin to hear a girlish giggle as it follows.
  79. Your heart accelerates to an unbearable pace and you feel like screaming your joy. Time to end this chase and say hi. You suddenly dive aside onto an open room, and slam the door behind you, before retreating to the back wall of the room, panting heavily.
  81. A shape materialises from the darkness, despite the door being closed solidly. You back yourself into a corner, eyes wide, but it approaches, none the less, indistinct bar a fiendish, blood-lit grin.
  83. She's close now. Her eyes are wide, crazy, and blood red lips split in a leer to reveal sharp fangs. You catch your breath as you press up against the wall. You're as trapped as you seem, though not nearly as scared.
  85. "Oh, I do so love it when little rabbits don't run. What will it be? Will I get to tear that delicious throat of yours out with my bare teeth?..."She runs a claw down her chest as she pants lewdly, a tongue slipping out from between her full lips and the rows of spiked teeth,
  87. "...Or will that beautiful sounding heart of yours explode before that?" She has the path to your left blocked. Right is no retreat. You struggle not to grin.
  89. She herself is wide open.
  91. You dash the few steps forward, and she falters a step back, surprised, and yet like a true predator, instantly realizing her mistake. It's too late for her though. Your lips lay across hers, your arms wrap around her thin, delicate frame in a tight embrace, and you slay her.
  93. You watch as you press your lips against hers, slip your tongue into her mouth, as her eyes, already wide in a bloodlust craze, soften, as she struggles weakly in your grip. And then she stops struggling, and a timid tongue mixes with yours as she begins to return the kiss. Your leg slips between hers, and you hold her closer, intimately pressing the bulge of your swelling manhood against her steadily moistening muff, blasphemous fabric all that separates the two of you.
  95. Soon, the need to breathe burns through you, and you release her lips, the two of you gasping raggedly, for breath, "Y-you don't... fear me?"
  97. You toss your thick jacket aside, and you take her taloned hand in yours, and slide your fingers in between hers, extending a single finger, tipped with a razor that alone could take your life. She gasps, and holds her breath, shaking slightly as you take control of her tool of murder, the tool she was so prepared to use mere minutes ago, now little more than a beacon of her dread.
  99. She looks like she doesn't want you to do whatever it is you're about to do, her eyes wide, the irises pinpointed on the tip of her claw as it looms closer, shaking her head side to side slightly, but the fast spreading wetness seeping into the thigh of your jeans where it's pressed up against her bare womanhood tells another story. You take the tip of it and slide it down your chest. The fabric of your shirt falls away, leaving the barest of lacerations down your front which struggles to even weep blood.
  101. A drop of it still clings to her finger, however, and she watches intently as you pop it into your mouth, and lick it clean, unable to supress your grin as you lock eyes with her. Now topless, you bring her hand to your chest, just above your heart, and rest it there, her palm flat,
  103. "My heart pounds, but it isn't fear babe."
  105. She licks her lips subconsciously, as a steady, heavy blush begins to spread across her face, "But every one else... s-sure it was defence at first, b-but I'm a murderer! You have to know that, i-it’s why you’re here, isn’t it?"
  107. You grab her shoulders, and spin, pinning her against the wall you once were forced up against.
  109. "I could... hurt you..."
  111. You seal her protests with a kiss before resting your forehead against hers, noses barely touching, "Stop. My penis can only get so erect."
  113. That stops whatever protest she put up, as you lean into her. "I-I...see..." A hand travels down your bare chest, which thrums in its excitement, and travels lower, caressing the truth of your words delicately. You trail the kisses down her cheek and jaw, one of her hands coming to the back of your head, the other resting on your hip. She guides your head lower, letting you linger upon the pale, soft flesh of her collarbone.
  115. When your lips pop free, you've left a splotchy dark bruise upon her, marking her as yours. She giggles quietly to herself, a strange, uncharacteristic, and oh so arousing sound. You trail your kisses down, to the first button of the oversized, bloodstained white shirt, her only clothing.
  117. You move to unbutton it, when she slaps your hands away. Startled and curious, you look up, only to see her grinning down at you, she orders you through her heavy breathing.
  119. "Teeth."
  121. You smirk, but rather than pick the button out, you cling to the entire thing with your teeth, and tear it out. Her generous chest shakes with the motion, and she gasps as your viciousness. She chides you, voice a mix of insult and arousal, "Y-You broke it!"
  123. You smile up at her. "It's ugly. I'll buy you a cute dress later."
  125. The words melt her grievance, bringing a warm fluffy reprieve as she squirms self-consciously, “D...Dress?"
  127. You smile a little wider at her feminine reaction, but don't answer, kissing the freshly bared flesh all over. You slip your tongue into the crack of her cleavage, and marvel as her full breasts jiggle, her pink areola barely peeking out from the filthy white, ancient shirt.
  129. Next button. You bend lower, and take the button in your teeth, this tine yanking it down, setting her bust bouncing up, and spilling out over the next button, tits completely bared now. Your pants become painfully tight as you marvel the sight of her beautiful, moonlight white titflesh, tipped by the brightest pink nipples you've ever seen.
  131. She might scold you, but you risk it none the less, heart beating up in your throat as you reach out for her mammaries. Your fingers sink sinfully deep in her luxurious flesh, and she whines and chews her knuckle as you lift and pull them around, biting the pink cherry, and pulling until it slips from your teeth, marveling at the ripples.
  133. "You...You can't seriously tell me no one has tried this before."
  135. She blushes and turns away from you, "T-they all just... screamed and shot at me..."
  137. ... You let that sink in for a moment before smirking, "Oh, there'll be screaming."
  139. "Iyaahn~" She lets out a distinctly cute cry as you attack her breasts again, nibbling at the stiffening rosebuds of her feminine wiles, licking, and flicking. Her legs go weak and she shakes as she rests as much weight as she can on the supporting wall. You look up from your molestation of her chest in sheer surprise
  141. "You didn't just... cum from me playing with your breasts did you?"
  143. This time she goes even redder than the blood she bathes in, "N-no one has... touched me before."
  145. "Ohoh, not even yourself?" She purses her lips and looks away. Thoroughly teased, and more than willing by now if the steady dripping of her delta upon the concreted floor is anything, you decide it's more than time enough to move on to the next button.
  147. Your teeth wrap around the next button when you hesitate, growing irritated and pained in equal measures, cock fit to burst, "Oh fuck this."
  149. "F-fuck what?"
  151. "You!" you grab her top, and tear it apart, the buttons bouncing away, some torn, some hanging limp from their torn purchase. Her heaving chest rises and falls alluringly, bathed as it is in the moonlight filtering in through the grimy skylight. You do what any sane, or perhaps insane man does before this sight, and fall to your knees.
  153. Your lips come level with her toned navel, the faintest outline of abs quivering under your attentions, muscles no doubt honed on the hunt. You slip your tongue into her belly button, and feel it contract around you as her abs tighten in anticipation, having never been touched this low before. You follow up with a kiss and are surprised to feel her claws digging into your scalp.
  155. Her Law filters down from above in husky, needy growls, "Lower."
  157. She pushes your face lower and lower down her abdomen, until your lips come to her bush, grinding your face into her muff. A suspicion comes to you, and you push back against her strength, hands on her hips, thrusting yourself away from her groin.
  159. "W-what's wrong."
  161. "Let me look at this for a moment." You squint. It's quite wild, and unruly, the same black as the long, unwashed hair on her head. You can't wait to throw this girl in a bath, and soak it in shampoo.
  163. "I thought so."
  165. "You thought...what?"
  167. "It looks wild and sexy and unkempt but you actually trimmed this, didn't you."
  169. The insistent force demanding you return to her womanhood slackens as she fidgets in embarrassment, hands no longer forcing you anywhere, just resting on your head now, "Now why would a lewd little spirit like you bother trimming this, if not to have it seen?"
  171. "I-I don't know..."
  173. "I won't continue if you don't tell me," you grin.
  175. She gasps and looks down to you in a panic, before seeing your grin. She decides not to call your bluff none the less, "S-Some one who came here...dropped a... magazine, a-and I and thought it looked, so...You don't... like it?"
  177. You chuckle, "I love it." You dip your head back down towards her pussy, and put your nose to it, taking in a deep breath, filling your mind with her scent, her womanliness, her pheromones.
  179. "N-no! Don't sniff it..." Her words are at direct odds with the way she pushes you further towards her, and thrusts her hips ever so slightly, grinding your face into her crotch, the powerful smell is enough to nearly rock you on your feet, and your tongue slips out, unbidden, instinctively, and circles around her clit, and traces the line of her labia.
  181. The hands on your head clench almost painfully, as you trace kisses up and down her pussy, and slip your tongue into her sopping slit. Her taste is almost tangy and carries with it an ethereal, unearthly sweetness, mixed with the musky sweat and excitement of the hunt. You plunge your tongue in deeper, reveling in the taste and watch as she sighs, and brings a hand to her breast, kneading it gently as she rocks her child-birthing hips ever so slightly back and forth.
  183. As you go deeper, her leg comes up over your shoulder, and her thigh pushes the back of your head, locking you into place where you belong, between the sensations of her soft, powerful thighs, and her deliriously delicious womanhood. She squeezes you tighter with her thigh, cutting of your airflow, and begins moaning at a slow, low and steady pace, closer to climax,
  185. "O-Ohhh, you feel so good. H-how do you feel so good?"
  187. You'd smile confidently if your thought process weren't so bent on making her cum before you suffocate. Your tongue begins to scout out her sensitive depths, searching for the places which will flick her switches. Her walls tighten crushingly, coiling in rolling motions around your tongue as you find one of her spots, and attack it relentlessly.
  189. What was once tight would now cower Atlas under its force as she screams her rapture into the empty halls, and you whimper quietly as she threatens to tear your tongue out in her sheer cockthirst. Thankfully, she releases you, and you fall back, landing on your ass in a thump, sucking in deep grateful drags of stale air. She sinks to her hands and knees, the motion bringing her face inches from yours, and setting her bust swinging
  191. She studies you with her pale, icy blue eyes, with a smile plastered across her face. You meet her gaze, "Thank you." She lays a soft, innocent, happy kiss on your lips before you can reply. You fear she may think it over, until you feel her claws trace lines down your bare chest. Ghost trails which ignite arcs of electricity up and down your spine, and set your flesh quivering. You sigh in relief as she works the belt, and slides your pants down, freeing your cock.
  193. Mesmerized, she watches it bounce around before it settles into place, rigid and hard as it has ever been, twitching slightly with each thrum of your ecstatic heart. Her eyes hone in on the bead of pre which bubbles forth under her attention. Her tongue slips out to taste it, and she sighs as it sparks fire across her tastebuds. She looks at your cock, opens her mouth and her tongue slips out.
  195. She goes for what makes sense to her first, and the tip of her tongue flicks against your urethra, the sudden stimulation causing a sudden stream of pre to slip out and slide down your length. Her tongue then glides around the rim of the head of your cock, and finally her lips meet in a soft kiss.
  197. Slowly, she takes you into her mouth. You don't even spare a thought to her fangs as her lips engulf your cock, and she slides more of you into her, a strange instinctual knowledge guiding her when rightfully, this should be her first time. Doesn't feel like it.
  199. Slick in her spit, her warm, soft mouth encases your length, the head of your cock grinding against the back of her throat, her soft lips sliding along your throbbing shaft. You groan, and bite the corner of your bottom lip. You look down, and her pale blue eyes meet with yours, and she hypnotizes you with her gaze, the way her cheeks hollow out, the ring of spit left on your shaft, steadily reaching further down your dick as she bobs back and forth. You reach a hand out and caress her cheek, thrusting to meet her as she comes back down again, her nose pressing into your lower abdomen.
  201. "Ish it good?" She mumbles, remarkable clearly from around your cock
  203. You smile down at her, "Yeah you're doing great. How did y- Oh a magazine right?"
  205. She blushes and directs her attention to your cock again. Her pace gets faster and faster and she thrusts her head down on your cock, lewd gasps and wet smacks filling the area, adding a pleasing cadence to your chorus of stifled moans. Her technique is inhuman. It doesn't take long for you to cum at this rate and you tell her so. She stops for the barest of moments and looks up at you from her mouthful of cock, and resumes. You take that as her 'o.k.', and as you come closer, you begin to guide her head with your hands, thrusting so that you can grind your cock into the back of her throat. She shuffles up you, so that she's at an angle which can take you fully without bruising the back of her throat, and with this angle you slip down her throat entirely, cock bending, distending her neck as it saws through her tight throat-pussy.
  207. Like this it takes even less time for you to cum, and you last only a few more thrusts before you pull her head down to the base of your dick, and unload rope after rope of pent up lust down her throat and into her stomach. Your muscles go limp as she sucks through the orgasm, and she slowly brings her lips back up the shaft of your cock, cleaning it as she goes, only reluctantly letting it go with a glistening, wet pop. Though your muscles all go slack, one part of you does not.
  209. "W-wow... you're still hard."
  211. You prop yourself up on your elbows, and grin at her, "I've still got a few in me. You up for round two?" Her answer is to turn around and bend over, face down, ass up. Her butt wiggles at you as she rests her face against the floor, her bust spilling out around her under the weight of her torso.
  213. Hands free to roam, she inches two fingers back to her pussy, and spreads her drooling, pink, glistening lips. You're tempted to dive right back in with your tongue, but there's been more than enough foreplay already. You kick off the pants she'd brought down to your ankles, and position yourself behind her, fingers spreading out across her eager ass. You don't even have to lubricate her if the glistening trails running down her thighs are any indication.
  215. She tilts her ass out of the way to give you a view of her face. Her lusty glance is more than enough to let you know, but she says it anyway. "Breed me.” Well, as eager as she is, this is still her first time. Do spirits even have hymens?
  217. You position the head of your cock to the gates of her womanhood and push gently, teasing and prodding her. "S-stop teasing me, and just, j-j-jam it in!"
  219. You thrust in compliance, in one quick, smooth motion, and penetrate her to the depths, causing her to scream out in a mix of pleasure and pain, as you tear through the thin wall. Turns out yes.
  221. "Are you alright?" She looks back at you over her shoulder with tears in her eyes, and nods at you, biting her lip. "Well let me know when you want me to move."
  223. "J-juhst a moment... It's so... weird having some one in me... but it feels good... because it's you."
  225. You quirk an eyebrow, "Don't go falling in love too fast. You were trying to kill me half an hour ago."
  227. She winces. "S-sorry.... I thought you were going to hurt me..."
  229. You laugh, "Aren't I?"
  231. She pouts fiercely, "No!"
  233. "Oh so I can move now?"
  235. "U-uh... no. Not yet."
  237. You smile softly, and begin to massage her rump, almost as soft as her breasts, "It's okay. Take all the time you need." You pass the time in her hot, warm depths, which spasm almost uncontrollably, torn between expelling your invader, and taking it deeper, twitching and twisting. You run your hands over her back in an effort to sooth her, and take strands of her long silky, slightly greasy hair, playing with it and bringing it up to your nose, curiously. Lavender.
  239. A moment later, her quiet voice calls your attention, "Y-you can move now."
  241. Gratefully you begin to slide your dick back out again
  243. "U-uhn, f-feels like you'll turn me inside out."
  245. You chuckle quietly, not wanting to distract from the soothing sound of her breathing, and the sensations in your dick, "Don't worry, I won't turn you inside out"
  247. "...Promise?"
  249. You laugh a little louder, "Yes. I promise."
  251. "Okay..." Her arced back relaxes, and the slope of it gives you just a little bit more ass to grab onto as you begin to saw in and out of her tight, sweltering depths. Her hips begin to rock in a rhythm similar to your own as she begins to get into it, the initial pain having bled away to leave only pleasure. She sounds soft moans and cries as you lean a little further over her, and begin to pound in earnest, and facade of gentleness having long since slipped, lost in her tightly coiling and contracting cunt.
  253. This gives you a view of her face and you see her eyes all but rolled up into her head, tongue hanging limp. A wicked idea comes to you, and you slip your hands around from her ass to her belly and slide them up until you can lift her up by the breasts, bringing her back flat against your chest, her face next to yours. She cries out and tightens around you as you touch her breasts, and gets only more dick destroyingly contracted as you pinch her nipples, and bite her collarbone. She cums around you, shaking and shuddering, and you grunt as you thrust through it all, pounding into her with strength you never knew you'd need for a simply fucking.
  255. She screams her orgasms to the skies, and you wonder what you would have done had you heard such a sound when first entering this place. Your blood freezes and your cum boils in anticipation. One of her hands reaches back around to cup your cheek and she forces herself onto you so hard she nearly cuts her lip on her teeth. Her tongue mingles with yours as you pound up into her from behind, and molest her sensitive chest, thighs clapping wetly against her round ass, the pervasive scent of sheer sex flooding the air and intoxicating the pair of you.
  257. Her second hand goes to your ass and her legs cross over behind you, almost squishing her ass flat against your thrusting hips now, because you'll be damned if you sacrifice any of your depth. She breaks the kiss, her pale blue eyes finding yours, her breath and words coming out desperate and strangled "I-I'm coming close...again"
  259. You nod, "S-same..."
  261. "W-what's your n-nnh... name? I w-wanna scream it as you fill me with h-hot cum."
  263. You feel your guts tighten under the pressure of oncoming orgasm
  265. "H-Henry."
  267. She bends over, returning the depth needed to fuck her deep, cock ploughing into her most intimate depths. "Henry, I'm cumming! C-Cum with me! Henry!"
  269. “Beatrice!” You bend over her back, and amidst her frenzied cries, spill your seed deep into her womb, painting it in a hot white coat of love. You lie on her, breathing heavily as you catch your breath, cum still pumping into her womb. Wrapping your arms around her stomach, you fall to the side and cuddle her.
  271. She twists in the embrace and turns to face you. You kiss her, and rub your nose against hers. She accepts the kiss, but clearly, something else in on her mind. “H-how did you know my name? Do you know me? D-did you know me?”
  273. You flush in embarrassment, and one of her hands comes to your face to calm you, a surprisingly maternal gesture. “A-Ah, well it’s sort of… embarrassing, really.”
  275. She holds you closer, “It’s okay,” and grins, the predator returning, “Not like I’m going to ever let you leave anyway. You can tell me anything.”
  277. You sigh, “W-well, there’s just always been this picture of you hanging up. Ever since I was a kid, a-and the moment I saw it, I… fell in love. With it. With you.”
  279. She flushes, “H-how do you know I’m the woman in the painting?”
  281. You stare into her eyes seriously, “I’d never mistake the beauty of that painting. You’re the woman I love,” you take her hand and put it to your heart, “I know it here.”
  283. “T-then… why did you have that painting?”
  285. “A-ah… promise not to be weirded out?”
  287. She laughs, softly, “I told you, didn’t I? You can tell me anything.”
  289. “We’re uh… related I guess. It’s a family painting that my grandma had. She took it from the family mansion which burnt down, and had this factory built on its ashes.”
  291. Her electric, pale blue eyes widen, and freeze, she doesn’t react for the longest time, until her tears water up. You can count watching a spirit of vengeance and wrath tear up as one of the most surreal experiences of your life. Before you can move to console her, she pulls you into her, and holds you tightly, her shoulders shaking as she begins to sob.
  293. “W-what’s the matter?” you run a soothing hand through her hair and down her back.
  295. “S-sorry, I-It’s just… I was so alone, a-and scared… A-and now you say you love me, A-and we share blood, a-and I finally feel like I belong some-where, it’s just… I don’t know how to react.”
  297. “Wait, you say that like sharing blood isn’t weird?”
  299. She looks at you, face a teary, snotty mess, “It is?”
  301. … “Huh…” She sniffs back her tears as you clean her face on your sliced up shirt, like a child, “Well, whatever. And I don’t just ‘say’ I love you.” You toss the shirt aside, still holding her face, “I do.” You steal her lips again, and she holds the two of you tight together. You lose yourself in her mouth surprised as how fully you can abandon yourself within her despite the razor sharp teeth and only part with the utmost reluctance.
  303. Sighing, she rests her head against your chest, an arm under you and holding you close. The other goes down between her legs, and she dips two fingers into her deflowered pussy, and spreads her lips, marveling at the thick streams of white which drip out. "Ah... I-I almost don't want to let it leave."
  305. "I can always fill you with more."
  307. The pouts determinedly, repeating herself, like it’ll make it come more true, "Good. Because I'm never letting you leave."
  309. You grin back, "But this abandoned place is a shithole. You'd enjoy living with me so much more."
  311. Her eyes go wide in shock, and begin to fill with fresh tears "Y-you don't... really? I m-mean, I can? It's okay? You'll... have me?"
  313. You pull her a little tighter, letting her cry her loneliness out into your shoulder for the second time in a night. "Of course. I owe my girlfriend a cute sundress to replace that blood-stained old shirt, and there's no where to hang it up here. Where else could you go but my place?"
  315. She gets a hold of herself quicker this time, “S-sorry for crying so much. I’m supposed to be mean and scary, right?” You laugh,
  317. “Cry all you want now, so you can smile later.” She looks up at you, eyes big round and waters, but smiling dopily none the less, “Or smile now, I guess.” You lean down and kiss her forehead, then her lips, feeling her wet face against yours. You reach for the shirt again.
  319. “I’d say the first date went pretty well.”
  321. “I don’t usually kiss and fuck on the first date,” she teases, “You’ve turned me into a naughty girl and I’ll have you take responsibility.” You laugh as you pick your jacket up off the floor and drape it across her shoulders, where she pulls it closed around her, protecting her modesty.
  323. “Gladly. But first I need to rescue you from this place.”
  325. She holds her hand out for you to take, “Rescue away.” You lead her through the factory, and through the open window, hopping through yourself first, and catching her on her way out. You take her hand to lead her away when she stops, frozen. You look back, questioning, but she’s staring at the ground in shock.
  327. “Is something wrong?”
  329. “I’ve never been outside before… I’m…” She looks up at you, “Free.” And leaps, arms wrapping around your neck as she buries her head into your shoulder, forcing you to stumble a step back so she doesn’t topple you right over, “You’ve made me free…”
  331. “Nah, see, if you were free, you wouldn’t be stuck with me now.” She laughs at that, before pulling herself from you,
  333. “I guess I could manage to get used to it, then.” She wraps her arms around yours, and together the two of you head to your car, so you can take your love back to your place, already giddy about sharing a bed with the literal girl of your dreams, and falling asleep in her embrace.
  335. * * * *
  337. You return with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, and head to the lounge-room. Dark. You could have sworn you turned the lights on, too. You elbow the switch on the wall and the lights flicker but fail again. A chilling breeze rolls in, and the television sparks to life with a static drone. You step up to the table and place the mugs on coasters and look into the static. It starts to swirl, giving you a migraine so you turn away, missing the milky white porcelain hands that reach out, clutching at the air.
  339. “Beatrice? Where are you?” Suddenly, arms wrap around your hips and pull you a step back towards the TV, followed by twin sensations of something soft pressing into your back. You spin so see your lover hugging you about the hips, her waist and ass caught on the… other side of the TV. You feel a little nauseous with the way her body distorts the swirling static, and you take her hands in yours and help pull the girl out of the TV. The moment she leaves, the static dies, and whatever was interfering with the lights fades, as they flicker on strongly, illuminating the room.
  341. “This place is so cool! You need a bigger TV, though.”
  343. You laugh, happy, “I’m glad you like it. As for the TV, we can head out tomorrow to find one.” You grab your mug and take a sip before taking a seat on the lounge. The onyro follows, sitting in your lap with a jubilant giggle. Your arms naturally slip around her hips and you hold her to you, hugging her from behind, burying your hands in the front pockets of your jacket that she’s wearing. You nuzzle into her shoulder and neck, and sigh deeply.
  345. “What’s wrong?”
  347. “Nothing, I’m just tired. Today was a big day.”
  349. “Do you want to go to sleep now?” She wiggles her hips, grinding her bare bum against your crotch, and turns to face you almost coyly “I was kind of hoping you could make love to me one more time tonight.”
  351. You smile, if a bit weakly, “I wouldn’t be a man deserving of you if I said ‘no’ here, now would I? Hop up for a moment.” She lifts her butt off you, and you work at your belt and pants, slipping them down your legs and kicking them off. She turns around, face to face with you, and squats low, unzipping your jacket low enough to life her breasts out and have them drop before your face. She reaches back, and wraps her fingers around your hardening cock, low enough that the waves of molten lust rolling off her already slick pussy kiss at the head.
  353. Your hands come up to her breasts, and she moans low as you sink your fingers in deep and rub her breasts, playing with her hard nipples. You bring one to your mouth and nibble at it, earning a louder, higher pitched moan. Hard now, she rubs your glans against the wet folds of her pussy, and lowers herself just enough to have the head prodding at her tight entrance. She leans back and braces her hands on your knees.
  355. “Hold me up for a moment.” You look up, with her nipple still in your mouth, her face clouded by her long hair, and nod, hands going to her ass, and lifting her up on the brink of penetration. With you taking her weight, she’s free to slip her legs behind your back, and cross them. Leg-locked within her grips now, she grins, and loves her arms to hook around your neck. She grins down at you, and brushes one long strand of hair behind an ear. “Ready, love?” You blush and nod, and her legs clench. For a fraction of a moment your cock bends under the pressure of her tightness, before you’re spearing deep into her cunt, her hips smacking into yours.
  357. She screams out, and you can’t help but voice your own cry as her warm walls wrap and constrict as she welcomes you inside her with full, ball-churning fanfare. She doesn’t spare a single moment, thrusting herself up off your cock, her pussy pulling and sucking at your shaft, ‘till the head is at the precipice, and then falling back into your lap with another clench, cunt tightening as if to push you back out, a depth so clenching it’s vice-like, bouncing on your cock and impaling herself over and over, soaking your lap and her thighs with her excitement at your rigid manhood spreads her wide.
  359. You tip your head back, and she leans down, her lips capturing your own with enflamed ardour, one of her hands at the back of your head, forcing you into the kiss, thick tresses of your hair slipping though her fingers. For your part, you guide her bouncing with one hand on her ass, the other across her back, holding the woman to you like you’re afraid she’ll vanish at any moment.
  361. The couch shakes with her hip-pounding thrusts, and your balls are soaked in the girl-juices that slip down your shaft, aided in part by her wild bouncing, her lubrication almost squirting as she grinds her lower lips around the base of your cock, her puffy mound squishing up against your crotch. She must be really pent up because she gets tighter with each bounce until she falls into you, a shaking mess, muscles spasming wildly around your dick buried balls deep in her cunt, the head pressing against her cervix. It takes all you have to not give up all you have to her then and there, as you ride out the tumultuous waves of her orgasm as a passenger stuck in her thrashing vessel.
  363. She relaxes, panting. You nibble at her neck and kiss her earlobe, “Are you okay?”
  365. “Yeah… that was just. Intense. Give me a moment.” You grin, and dip both hands into the cheeks of her ass, lifting her up.
  367. “Nope.” You slam her down, this time thrusting up to meet her. She muffles the cry by biting your shoulder, teeth clenching tight enough to just pierce the skin. But rather than distract, the pain adds to the surge of sensation coursing up your spine into your mind. She goes almost completely slack as you pound into her over-sensitive pussy, and you take control of the last stretch as she clings to you like a life raft.
  369. Her bust jiggles against your chest, and her long hair bounces around as you fuck the horny spirit. You regret not being able to watch her pounce as it smacks into your hips, but the sight of her misty unfocused eyes and dopey smile as her head jostles about in your shoulder is just as good. The tiny strand of drool that lips from her lips really helps to add to the ‘I’m being fucked insensate’ look, and her enjoyment only rouses your own further.
  371. You thrust deep, feeling the oncoming surge of your own climax rear its head. Pounding into her as she suffers the aftershock of her own orgasm makes it almost too easy to bring her to cum again, this time accompanying your own finish. You bring her butt up for a few more bounces before you bottom out, her legs locking you in instinctively, your hips colliding as your shaft thickens with your pent up load.
  373. She heaves a sigh of utmost contentment as you pump hot surges of cum deep into her womb, splattering up against the back of her uterus and coursing through her fallopian tubes, saturating her baby factory with your seed, claiming her as yours, filling her up and then some, only the tightness of her pussy in the aftermath of climax keeping your load in.
  375. You sigh, and fall to a side, taking the woman with you, ending up with your face between her breasts, and her arms hugging your head, your own arms wrapped around her hips, the two of you so close your dick is still partway buried inside of her, your semen drooling from her used lips as you soften. You groan, muffled by her soft tit-flesh. “Now can I sleep?”
  377. She smiles, and tips your head back to plant a kiss on your forehead and ruffle your hair, “Now you may sleep.” You buy your face in her chest again, and smile, falling asleep next to the woman you love for the first time, her legs entangled within your own, her arms holding you close like something precious. A certain warmth in your heart covers you like a blanket, and you drift off quickly.
  379. When you open your eyes, it takes a moment to dispel the notion that you’re still dreaming. Beatrice is looking you in the eyes, she’d moved the two of you at some point as you slept, so that your foreheads were connected, “Ah, you’re up.” You give her a good morning kiss, before saying anything,
  381. “You were watching me sleep?”
  383. She grins, teasingly. “You make the cutest faces. What did you dream of?”
  385. “Same thing I always dream of.”
  387. “Oh?” she asks, but she knows the answer very well. You go in for another kiss, nibbling at her lip, coiling your tongue around hers, her soft lips the best thing you’ve ever woken to.
  389. “You.” She giggles.
  391. “So, what do we do today?” Her hands trace down your chest, and you allow her fingers to get as far as what would be your belt, were you wearing it, before you catch her hand, grinning.
  393. “I still owe you a cute dress right? How about we go shopping?” She pouts a little, her advance thwarted. Even as she is now, her wild mane of hair is all over the place. She’d pushed a mass of it behind her ear, but strands still hang low over her face. In the light of the morning, she’s much less fearsome looking. The lips you’d taken to be blood-red when first meeting her, now tinged a light pink.
  395. You give her rump a light smack, “Hop up, lets go have some breakfast.” The two of you sit up, and you groan as you stretch your arms. Beatrice climbs off you, and stands on her own two shaky legs, stiff from lack of use. She yawns and stretches, body contorting in strange ways, joints popping in ways they shouldn’t contorting in ways that make a primal part of your mind scream. It’s like watching a creature from a horror film pick itself up after being run over by a truck. Her torso twists to a side in a motion that would snap a normal human spine, and as if she senses your eyes on her, she twists and tilts her head to face you. You didn’t think you’d ever talk to someone face to face with their back turned to you
  397. “Are you alright?”
  399. “…Yeah. Do you always stretch like that?” She rightens up, and tilts her head to a side,
  401. “Like what?”
  403. “Uh. Nevermind. Coffee?”
  405. “Sure!” she follows you into the kitchen, almost at a skip, holding her arms behind her back, if you strain, you can even hear her humming happily. It puts a spring in your own step. You pull out some bacon wrapped in plastic from the fridge and a carton or eggs, place them on the bench, flick the switch on the kettle and pull down some oil. Beatrice watches with interest as you navigate the kitchen, sitting on one of the stools that line the kitchen counter.
  407. You put a pan to the stovetop and pour some oil in it, setting it to the max temperature. As you wait for it to heat up, your eyes fall across a tray you keep at the side of the counter, full of random crap that you find. In the tray is a hair tie. You look back to the ghostly woman and sure enough there’s long strands of hair hiding her face. You grin a little wryly and fetch it. “Turn around for a moment.” She looks on curiously, but abides anyway. You part her fringe and sweep her hair back with your hands, collecting it in a bundle before looping it through the elastic band, tying it off her face in a high ponytail.
  409. You lean over her shoulder, and turn her to get a look, “How’s that?” She looks sort of startled, her eyes wide, as they meet yours without a film of her long beautiful hair in the way. A heavy blush spreads slowly but surely across her delicate features and she hides her face behind her hands,
  411. “It’s kind of embarrassing.” She looks like another person. Even in that picture, she’d always had hair covering a hefty portion of her face.
  413. “You look cute with your hair tied back.” Her back shakes like you just rammed a spear down her spine, and her ears turn red in time for the kettle to scream and whistle. Grinning, you go back around to the other side, and flick the machine off.
  415. She spends a moment studying her reflection in a small mirror that was sitting in the tray, “Cute…” She puts a hand to her reddened cheek, and smiles. You judge the oil to be hot enough, and drop a rash of bacon in. Immediately it sizzles and spits, but the smell of cooking bacon begins to fill the room. You head to the loungeroom to fetch the two mugs, your own still filled with forgotten hot chocolate, and head back, skulling the rest. You give the two a quick rinse before you spoon the instant coffee and sugar into them, and dart back to flip the bacon, cracking eggs into the pan, and popping four slices of bread into the toaster with a metallic clang.
  417. Reasonably sure that everything should now finish at the same time, your pour the coffees and add milk, handing a mug to Beatrice. “So, what do you want to do today?”
  419. She frowns, “Do?”
  421. “Yeah. Like, what do you usually do?”
  423. She shrugs, “Walk around. Hide, mostly.” Yeesh. What a dull existence. No wonder spirits of vengeance get irritated so easily.
  425. “We’ll think of something.” you turn back to the stove and turn the knob down to zero, letting the pan simmer down as the toast pops. You pull out plates, butter toast, and slap some eggs and bacon on the bread before handing the ghost one.
  427. “Thanks but… You know I don’t have to eat, right?”
  429. “Oh. Right. Stupid of me. Sorry.” You go to take her plate back when she puts one of her hands on yours, shaking her head in denial.
  431. “Oh, no I don’t mean I won’t eat it, I mean, I can still taste it, I’d never waste something you cooked for me.”
  433. “Oh, ah. It’s nothing that great.” You blush a little at what she said, and distract yourself with eating, cutting into the toast and taking a portion of it into your mouth. Beatrice takes her fork in hand and looks at it curiously. It seems that her memory is a bit spotty, knowing some parts of her previous life, and missing others. Even more tattered is what information she’d collected as a spirit. She knew what a TV was, but the simple act of using a fork seems to have escaped her. You bite back a smile as she takes the fork in her fist and stabs it, twisting her wrist to bring a piece of bacon to her mouth.
  435. She brings it to her lips, but the bacon slips off her fork just at it gets to her mouth, and her teeth close around nothing, the piece of meat falling to the floor. She’s plainly disappointed with the result. You grin, and stab into a piece of your own bacon. “Here.” You hold your fork out, “Have a bite.”
  437. “Uh, sorry.”
  439. “Don’t worry.” She wraps her hand around yours, and brings her other hand under the fork so if it drops again she can still catch it. She bites into the succulent meat and takes it off the fork, tipping her head back to let it fall to her mouth.
  441. “It’s tasty.” You grin and turn back to your own mean. Beatrice leans by example, and adjusts her grip so the fork is face down, her index finger at the base, thumb and middle finger at either side. She eats much easier with the new grip. Before long, the food’s eaten and the coffee drunken. You look over the onryo. Your jacket had ridden up her hips as she sat, her bare ass on the seat. She’ll need panties, pants and a few tops. You thank the thickness of your wallet.
  443. But none of that will help you now. You’ll have to lend her some of your clothes before the two of you head out.
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