Under A Velvet Cloak (Incarnations of Immortality Book 8) by Piers Anthony

Author:Piers Anthony [Anthony, Piers]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Mundania Press LLC
Published: 2015-07-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Night

The Carnival of Ghosts was a wondrous thing. It was set up like a pitched camp, with assorted tents of various sizes, barkers at each entrance, and throngs of ordinary looking folk. Kerena saw the top of some kind of wooden mountain with tracks on it, an oddity.

A roller coaster, Jolie thought. They will be invented a thousand years or so hence. Evidently the ghosts are truly timeless, and take their pleasures wherever they find them.

“They are all ghosts,” Molly assured Kerena, “All but you. Don’t let them get to you.”

They approached the main entrance. “What’s this dung?” the ticket man demanded. “We don’t let her kind in here.”

“Well, make an exception, pinhead,” Molly snapped, floating out from Kerena to assume her full ghost form. “She’s with me.”

“And how is she going to pay for the ticket, cutie?”

“I’ll buy the ticket.”

“No you won’t. She has to buy her own.”

“That’s not in the rules, you lecherous leech.”

Kerena caught on to what the ghost wanted: sex with a live woman. This was hardly a burden, considering her history, and she had been without sex for several hours, so was getting hungry for it. “I’ll do it. Tell me how.”

“Just stand there,” the male ghost said. He stepped up to her and embraced her, his outline barely touching. He kissed her, and she felt the tenuous impact of his lips on hers. Then she felt a similarly tenuous penetration below. Her clothing made no difference; he ignored it. He worked his way into the spot, evidently feeling as much contact as he needed. She would not have felt anything, had she not been alert for it. Had she moved, what faint interaction there was would have been lost, as there was no physical component. That was why he needed her acquiescence.

He thrust and panted, and she felt the motion, like a feather made of bubbles, faintly tickling her interior. He climaxed, and it was like a driblet of thin mist. Maybe it was her own moisture, stirred by her awareness of sex. It was enough to get her interested, but not enough to allow her a climax.

He finished and withdrew, leaving her unsatisfied. “Here’s your ticket,” he said, presenting a ghostly piece of paper.

So she had just had sex with a ghost. It wasn’t much, but at least she had seen his figure and felt a little. Maybe if she practiced she would be able to get more from it. “Thank you.”

“It’s not as much for him as with another ghost,” Molly confided as they entered the Carnival. “A lady ghost is on the same plane, so the sensation is real. But they’re all thrilled by the notion of doing it with a real live body. Lady ghosts like doing it with living men, too, though they have to move carefully to keep the anatomy in place.”

So it turned out to be. Every side show had its ticket taker, and the price was the same for her: stand and be addressed. So she stood and felt their faint ardors.

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