We went outside and sat in my plastic chairs out in the yard. It was nice and cool out there. He lit a smoke and handed it to me. We sat and smoked. "...'m so sorry, I…" Please stop apologising." I said."OK. It's just that I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. You really helped me out when nobody else would and I am so grateful to you and I would never take advantage of you like that." Maybe I just wanted a fuck." What?" Nothing." It's not that I don't find you attractive, because you are,. He was the ghost of a long dead man, who in life had been a lustful lady killer. He was touchy for a ghost. Sometimes, as he whispered his long tales of love and drama and heroic deeds, she would feel a ghostly touch on her body. Ethereal remnants of hands would seem to caress her bosom. Sometimes she would just brush them away and he would stop. Sometimes, when the mood struck her she would let him have his way. His story would change to a tale of lust while his ghostly touch explored her. More

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