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In the Past

Tags: spirits
Who or what was this spirit?
The new house was what we had always aimed for but the work involved in getting it to the state we wanted proved to be greater than anticipated.

Exhausted, we had barely enough strength to kiss each other goodnight before submitting to the arms of Morpheus that night. So I was surprised and somewhat annoyed to be woken by Harry's grunting; grunting as when we were enjoying the culmination of a long session of intense love making and he was on the point of honouring my gripping pussy with spurts of his hot seed.

My back towards him, I listened for a few seconds then turned to face him. Harry's face was contorted as if he was indeed on the point of orgasm.

“ Harry” I claimed in a hoarse whisper, “you’re wanking!” But he wasn’t, his arms were wrapped around some invisible recipient of his efforts! I turned on the lamp.

Throwing back the bed covers I was just in time to witness huge globs of sperm spurt from his erect penis. My lungs filled with air ready to scream my utter contempt at the actions of my husband, when my eyes locked on his still erect and strangely glistening, cock.

Harry's eyes opened and a look of utter confusion spread over his face. His face turned to mine, “Geeze Rosie, wow! How did you do that?”, he gasped.

My eyes were still fixed on his dick. “Shut up, I want an explanation of this...” I took the head of his penis between finger and thumb. He looked down but the grin on his face told me that as usual, he was basking in the glow of an intense orgasm.

How was it that his tool, that was always such a source of pleasure to me, was glistening as if it had just withdrawn from my grateful and glowing vagina? To be absolutely sure I felt between my thighs; no sopping wetness, no glowing, blood engorged labia begging for more thrusting, piercing cock action.

My hand lightly gripped the still erect staff where it slid easily down its slippery length. At my nose that hand carried no clue as to what substance glossed my husband”s hardness.

Bending, I put my nose to my husband's dick, again no clue. Turning my head I looked into Harry”s still smirking face; whatever had occurred, he hadn’t minded one tiny bit.

The tip of my tongue lapped the underside of the taut skin of the glans and immediately the familiar saltiness of Harry's seed spread over the taste receptors. My tongue removed all traces of the seed taking care to leave for particular examination the substance that coated the length down to his smooth pubes.

As Harry's bulbous cock brushed past my lips and entered my mouth I determined that I must not enjoy my actions... yet. Thus as I swallowed the amazingly still hard flesh I carefully sucked from it the remaining juices, endeavouring to establish just what they were.

Having enjoyably cleaned my own vaginal secretions from my husband's penis many times I knew instantly that it was not my pussy that recently gripped it or been filled by it. Non-the-less as far as I could tell some vagina had enjoyed a number or all the pleasures that Harry's cock could provide, and very recently.

Bile rose immediately in my throat and I prepared to scream accusations of infidelity at my partner, but woman's reason came to the fore and I calmly asked him to explain what he had experienced just a few moments ago.

Harry described his experience in this way:....

After falling asleep almost the instant that my head touched the pillow, the most strange things happened. In a room that I had barely entered in this new home, a woman dressed in clothes of a bye-gone age called to me by the name of Thomas and instructed me to assist her in what she termed her boudoir.

There, the woman appeared annoyed that I didn’t know the procedure that she demanded. That she spoke words with which I not familiar made it difficult for me to comprehend her demands, but from her agitated gestures I took it that I was to undress her.

Because what was happening to me appeared surreal to say the least, I felt that I could accede to her demands without suffering the wrath of my darling wife.

My surroundings were blurred, my own body was not apparent to me, all I could make out in sharp focus was the woman. Compared to my height of six-one this lady stood only two inches less; If her heels were the four inches of Rosie's then at five-eight was still tall for a woman.

Other than such as bra and panties I have no idea of the terms used for women’s clothing in modern times let alone of years ago, so I will just say what I took off this woman in my terms.

First off was a short embroidered jacket which I was ordered to hang up. Under that a kind of blouse of cotton, but I was ordered next to remove the skirt which almost reached the floor. The weight of this item took me by surprise and I wondered how the lady could bear to carry it around her small waist all day. Again, I was to hang this garment... on what I cannot say that I noticed.

Now I was aware of what was worn on her feet and was impressed to see shoes with the minimum of heel, so this mystery female was almost as tall as I.

My wife Rosie wears the tiniest panties, my favourite are the wispy thongs that cover only a tiny part of her gorgeous body and with which I often tease her by drawing them through my lips as if flossing; this lady wore one hundred times more cloth but it covered none of her pussy!

Each of the woman's legs was wrapped in cotton cloth which was secured just below the knee and at the waist by a tie but there was no crotch joining the two parts. My eyes were magnetically drawn to the uncovered area between the legs of the pants and a massive bush of red hair covering her entire pussy and pubic area and I stared in fascination; my wife kept her own body free of superfluous hair. From knee to foot short stockings covered slim legs and black shoes covered the feet.

The next image in my memory is of a tall slim woman naked but for shoes and stockings to her knees. As I had removed each garment the tips of my fingers had touched skin that was warm and silky, now I wanted, I needed, to hold her nakedness, to experience the sensation of every part of that sculpted body.

Seemingly to encourage me, milady stood by her bed, placed her hands on the covers, bent at the waist pointing her tight young ass at me and turned her head towards me, the look on her face seemed to enquire the reason for the delay,

My outstretched hand was slapped away with a hissed “Fuck me you oaf”. Needing no further encouragement I grasped a rapidly hardening cock in one hand and her waist in the other. Ploughing the furrow of her pussy I pushed the engorged head at the entrance of her tunnel of desire only for the woman to rock forward and yell “How dare you try to pierce my virginity, I will have you whipped, Put your staff where it should go, imbecile!”

As this feisty lady had presented to me her milky, curvaceous butt I took it that she was used to being serviced anally. Even as I tentatively introduced my not small cock head at her ass, fearing that it may cause her pain, the young lady rocked back on her heels impaling herself on what she considered was my tool for her use. A cry I shall remember as a squeal, escaped her lips, not of pain, but more of delight.

“ Thomas, your staff has grown from the girth of a twig to that of a tree trunk and this fact now saves you from that whipping” moaned the mysterious female, “you may, if you perform well, leave with me the seed of that tree”. I took it that her strange words meant that I could orgasm in her ass.

As our lust progressed and manifested itself in the way of yells, grunts, sweat and foul language, I guessed that each time her ass went into spasm it signified an orgasm and soon they came more frequently which accelerated my own and soon my seed sped its way from balls to the one eyed monster buried deep in this woman’s tight ass.

The moment I exploded into my new lover I was shocked to see Rosie's face glaring at me; so she and I had been making love? I didn’t understand any of this situation, and my wife's reactions thereafter made no sense at all other than they gave me great pleasure.


Harry's explanation had me intrigued but no matter how I questioned him further he was unable to add any other helpful detail, all I got from my husband was an inane grin as he closed his eyes and relived the episode.

Despite my husband's fervent desires his strange female sexual mistress did not reappear... that is until a year later.

wc 1593

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Copyright © copyright of Jennifer Geeson

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