I won’t touch you. Pull your legs apart. Are you ready?” I watched as Cathy once again hooked her hands behind her knees, and pulled them up as hi...h and apart as she possibly could. At the same time, she inched her ass down to the edge of the couch, in line with the tip of my cock. “Don’t touch,” I whispered. She nodded in silent agreement. I inched the tip of my cock closer to her, stroking it slowly and deliberately with my left hand. I moved my cock closer yet, just grazing its underside. Wherever it was coming from, it was around him, hitting him from all directions, but almost inaudible. The sound changed pitch, slowly going up and down, almost like a choir. Maybe it was a choir? There were lots of myths and legends about ghosts singing. And in the odd quiet of the endless fall, it did sound almost musical, haunting, and sad. It reminded him of Mary; not the Mary he knew, but Mary the ghost, haunting his old home, and carrying with her enough sadness that she hadn’t gone where. More

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