He began to slide down the bed, but she grabbed him before he got very far. “I mean it… I’m done.Stick a fork in me… Done.”
He chuckled and moved up until he was face to face with her. As he swept her hair off her forehead, he smiled into her eyes. “I do love you,” he whispered.
She looked at him through shimmering eyes, but the lump in her throat made it impossible to speak. She nodded instead.
He feathered kisses over her face, neck and collarbone. Eventually her breathing slowed and he asked, “Are you ready for me?”
Merry said in her sexiest voice, “Oh yeah. Want to lie down and let me ride?”
He grinned and promptly dropped onto his back. She climbed up beside him and took his erect member into her hand.Still hard as a rock under the satiny surface.Just for good measure, she placed a loving kiss on the tip before throwing one leg over him and sinking down.
Taking his cock into her body, she moaned with the glorious feeling of him filling her completely. Merry’s cavern was so wet, he glided in and out easily as he pumped and she rocked. She closed her eyes and lost herself in sensation.
After a good long ride, he added a clit rub and she gasped.“Jason, I…” Her orgasm exploded and she lost all control. All power of speech deserted her except to cry out in ecstasy. Soon after, he climaxed too. When each of them had experienced their last aftershock, Merry collapsed on top of him.
“Are you sureyou’rethe one who’s going to die in bed?”
“Maybe we both will.” He chuckled. “But what a way to go.”
“Now everybody needs to sit around the table and hold hands. At least that’s what I’ve seen on TV. Isn’t that how a séance is done, Shandra?” Dottie asked the medium.
She chuckled. “Yes, that’s how it’s done. Everyone gather ’round and have a seat.”
Candles graced the table. Since Dottie had already made sure the electricity was shut off, their glow provided the only light in the chilly apartment. A red oblong tablecloth over a couple of folding bridge tables gave the appearance of one large table, the perfect size for their gathering. Konrad, Morgaine, Gwyneth, Nathan, and Jason surrounded the table and took the vacant seats. Dottie had been with the medium, Shandra, as soon as she arrived and was seated to her right, anxiously awaiting this monumental event.
She grabbed the hands of Shandra and Jason on either side of her and asked, “What do we do next?”
“Simply close your eyes and sit quietly,” Shandra instructed.
It was all Dottie could do not to squirm. Shivers seemed to pepper the back of her neck already and nothing had happened yet.
Shandra took several deep breaths and said, “Spirit, please make yourself known.” She waited. Nothing happened. She took several more deep breaths and tried again. “Spirit or spirits, if you are here, please give us a sign.”
Dottie opened one eye. The candles flickered. Nothing unusual about that. Her gaze settled on the medium and she watched her closely. The woman began to heave and straighten, heave and straighten. At last, she jerked, opened her mouth, and spoke in a voice that didn’t sound like hers at all.
“Why are you here in my pad? You’re intruding where you don’t belong,” the voice said. It was significantly lower than Shandra’s normal voice.
Dottie murmured, “Pad?” under her breath.
Shandra’s voice returned to normal. “Spirit, thank you for allowing me to channel your voice. We are only here temporarily in order to speak to you, then we will leave you in peace. Do you have any messages to relay? I’m here to help.” Her head dropped against her chest.
A moment later, her chin lifted and the lower voice answered, “Groovy. Make them leave me alone, man. I need my space.”
Groovy?Well, he wasn’t from the eighteenth century—unless he picked up conversations and learned some new words.
“Can you tell us who you are?” Shandra continued.
“I am the ghost of Christmas past, and I have come to show you the error of your ways.” He made some kind of spooky Oooooo… sound and then laughed.
The medium shook a bit and then spoke in her normal voice. “We mean you no harm. Please let us know with whom we’re communicating, so we can better help you.”
They waited silently until Dottie couldn’t stand it any longer. “Well, if he won’t tell us who he is, what does he look like? Maybe we can figure it out. Can you describe him?”
Shandra shook her head. “I can only see his shape. He’s tall and thin. His hair appears to be in an afro style.”
“Hey, I’m not skinny. I’m fit,” said the baritone voice from the medium’s mouth. Nathan snorted—or was it just a cough?“I just have a high metabolism—orhad, I should say. You want to know what I look like? Well, I’m a twenty-six-year-old black man, wearing a tie-dyed tunic, faded jeans, and several strands of love beads hanging from my neck. Oh, and I also have a bullet hole in my head.”
One of the participants made a sound likeUgh.
