Sensual Romance by Author Mary J. Dressel
Romance With a Sensual Touch
Scroll down to read my free Ghost Story.
This is the orginial that is also found under my
free reads link entitled "True Love Never Dies".
The Day My Dad Didn't Want Me To Leave
Well, by now you can tell I believe in ghosts. I lived with one once, but not by choice! Scroll down for my newest ghost story called THE ACCIDENT. I wrote it especially for Halloween. For now, I have another story that totally scared the You-Know-What out of me.
When my friend, Sheila Stewart, wrote a blog about her dad, and the lights going off, it reminded me of something I forgot. My dad was dying from cancer, and I had moved in to take care of him with help from Hospice. It was pure Hell to begin with. Probably one of the hardest things I ever went through. It brought me and my brother closer together for awhile, since he helped me with our dad. The inevitable finally happened one horrible night, and he was gone. All I wanted to do was get out of there, go home and forget all the smells that go along with death, all the tears and emotions, and find my safe house with my cuddly dogs; one was my dads.
I knew that eventually I would have to go back to his house and clean everything out so we could sell it. So, one day I took a day off work, and went over there to get some things in order. I walked around and even talked to my dad. I cried as I sat there, alone in his house for the first time. My emotions were still ragged, and it wouldn’t take much to chase me over the edge. I got all the dishes out of the cupboard to clean it out, and began doing that.
I felt tired, and just a little freaky there alone. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t handle it when I felt a hand on my shoulder. No one was there except me. Dad? I have no doubt. I know he didn’t mean to scare me. Maybe he wanted to tell me everything was okay where he was. Maybe he wanted to comfort me like he always would. As I said earlier, it wouldn’t take much to send me over the edge. Well, I said, "Dad, you’re scaring me." I didn’t hear anything in return, but I felt him there. I tried to overcome it, and stay there with him, but I was just too frightened. Of what? I don’t know, but my fear took me out of there. I told him I was sorry, but I had to go... I hope he understood. I could feel sadness that day, and I know he didn’t want me to go.
When I think back to that day, I wish I would have stayed. People who don’t believe in ghosts or spirits, whatever you want to call them, can’t understand the feeling you get when there is a ghost beside you. Apparently we won’t see them unless they want us to. Do they all have the ability to become visible to us? I wonder. It’s a feeling that can’t be denied. What about those people who don’t believe? Do you think anything can ever make them believe?
Enjoy a Recipe
Ghostbuster Delight
1 lb. ground beef
15 oz. can tomato sauce
1 envelope taco seasoning mix
2 1/2 C. corn chips
15 oz. can refried beans
1/2 C. shredded cheese
Brown meat in a skillet and drain. Stir in 1 1/2 cups of the tomato sauce and the taco seasoning. Line the bottom of a baking dish with 2 cups of corn chips. Spoon the meat mixture over the chips. Stir the remaining tomato sauce into the refried beans. Spread over the meat. Bake at 275°F. for 25 minutes.
Crush the remaining corn chips. Sprinkle the shredded cheese and corn chips over the top and return to the oven to bake for 5 more minutes.
From:
http://www.razzledazzlerecipes.com/halloween/ghodel.htm
|
Mashed Potato Ghosts From: http://www.razzledazzlerecipes.com/halloween/mashed-potato-ghosts.htm |
Free Read
I decided to post my story. Enjoy
This story, and any other on this site is protected by Copyright. Borrowing or using any of it without permission is illegal, and I'll send that ugly Zombie after you.
The Accident
I don’t know why I chose that place, or what made me cut the ad out of the newspaper. Standing out front sent terrible chills through me, but something deep in my psyche told me that I had to look into this apartment. Even though I accounted the chills to it being cold outside, something inside me knew it wasn’t true. The tenants were very friendly. They had a cute little baby. She was three months old. Their apartment was large for the money they paid. I wondered why they wanted to sub-let after only living there six months.
"We’ll take it!" said my husband, Pete.
"Great," said the young dad.
"How soon can you move in?" asked Sue, as she rocked her baby in her arms. "We’ll be out by the first of the month."
"Okay, that works for us," said Pete, glancing over at me for approval.
I nodded that it would be okay. Later that day we talked to the leasing agent, signed the contract, and went home to pack. Pete and I were still considered newlyweds, being married for only nine months, and we still lived with my parents. We were so excited to finally be out on our own, but I still wondered why they wanted to be out so early.
It wasn’t until we moved in that we realized the highway noise. Why didn’t I notice that when I stood outside trying to make up my mind. When I walked to the patio to look at that side of the yard, I didn’t notice it, maybe because of the chills that spread over me, the fearful feeling inside. No wonder the rent was so cheap. One of the busiest highways in the state was right past the parking lot. The sounds of engines, brakes, big rigs, and sirens never quit. It gave me such a shudder to hear it. For some reason, it made me fearful, and I don’t know why. But I soon learned the traffic wasn’t why they moved.
I was the first to realize it. I don’t remember the first incident. Maybe it was the feeling of being watched, or the icy touch on my cheek at night. It might have been the feeling or the bumps in the night, or the dreams of someone pressed against my body. I hated for Pete to work the midnight shift. Even before the voice began I hated being there alone. Even on the weekends he worked late at a second job. It was because he liked it, he said. I was a newlywed and lonely. The sounds and bumps in the night unsettled me, but I took it as being something on the highway, or the neighbors in their apartment. When I felt the pressure of a kiss on my lips, or woke up wet with arousal, I ignored it, and brushed it off as missing my husband.
On our one year anniversary, I lit candles and dropped rose petals along the hallway. My favorite perfume spread through the bedroom as I waited for Pete to come home. My sexy black nightgown fit my slim body just right. Slick and tight!
That night before he got home, I drifted off to sleep. When I felt the bump against the bed, I turned and stretched. "Mmm, Pete, I was dreaming about your hot body against mine." His hands felt so good on my thighs, then his fingers higher, probing my tender parts. There was no answer when I hummed his name. I opened my eyes, looking around for him. "Pete, where’d you go, babe?" I got out of bed, searching the apartment. He wasn’t there. That’s when the phone rang.
"Hi, hon, I’ll be home shortly, I had to stop at the store."
"No!"
"Huh?"
"I mean, no, you aren’t at the store, you were just here."
"No, I wasn’t, I’m driving on the highway."
I jumped back into bed, pulling the covers up tight against my chin.
"Babe?"
"I’m sorry... Hurry, I’m frightened."
"Calm down, Sarah, I’ll be there soon."
"Okay. Love you! Hurry..."
"Okay. Oh, happy anniversary!"
"Thank you, same to you."
I hung up the phone and stayed under the covers. I still felt the chill. I closed my eyes. "That touch was so real." My eyes popped open when I heard a moan. It sounded like Pete when he was hot and horny. It wasn’t Pete.
"Who’s there?" I asked aloud. Again I felt the bump against the bed. "Go away, you’re frightening me!"
Then a laugh, the kind you hear in spooky Halloween stories or scary movies. I was still cuddled up under the covers when Pete came home. I ran to him, wrapping my arms around him. He had flowers and a bottle of wine, but smelled like he already drank half of it.
"Let me set these down so I can hug my sexy wife the way I want to!"
He stared at me, his eyes blank and bloodshot.
"Umm, you are one hot babe tonight!"
I loved when he said things like that to me. He held me so tightly. I pulled the tie out of his hair, and his dark waves fell around his shoulders. He could barely stand up.
"You’re trembling. Do I still rock your boat my beautiful wife?"
Closing my eyes, I pulled him against me, inhaling the scent that was not his. "You always will rock it. You turn me on so. What’s that fragrance? I don’t remember you having that kind of cologne?"
"Oh, just something new I picked up." He looked down the hallway. "Candles? Rose petals? Sexy nightgowns? What do you have in mind my little vixen?"
I only smiled at him. "Pour the wine and follow me!" I said, as I flipped my long auburn hair back over my shoulder. I heard the cork pop as I slid into bed, waiting. But it felt like someone was watching me. I looked toward the door, just a quick glimpse. "Oh, my God!" I yelled for Pete. He was standing there! A man with long flowing blond hair, his body full of muscle. "Pete!"
"What is it?" he asked, when he reached the doorway.
"There! Over there!" He looked to where I pointed, then looked back at me like I had totally lost it.
"What?" he asked. "What is wrong with you?" He brought the glass of wine over and handed it to me. "Here, drink this," he said.
Grabbing the covers, I pulled them up over me. "We’re not alone!"
"Of course, we’re alone. What’s wrong with you?"
It looked like he was going to start laughing. "I saw him. There..."
Pete sat on the bed beside me. "Here," he said, holding the bottle. "Drink another glass."
I drank it down. "I saw a man standing there by the dresser. He has long hair– blond, and he’s muscular."
He took the covers from my clenched fingers, and slowly moved them off of me. Then he tried to lift my gown over my head. I was so frightened, still feeling the stare from that... the... whoever, whatever it was! The next thing I knew Pete was pressing me against the bed. I felt his lips touch my skin, and still smelled the sickening perfume. It turned me off instead of inflaming me like he always did. Suddenly, the bed moved like someone pushed against it with their knee. I put my hands against Pete’s shoulders and pushed at him.
"Sarah, what the hell is it?"
"Didn’t you feel it?"
"No! Feel what?"
"He bumped the bed."
"There’s no freaking ‘he’."
I sat up, angry that he didn’t believe me. "I saw him!"
"The wine."
"No, I saw him before I drank any wine. Remember?"
"Aw, come on, what are you trying to do here, play games with me?"
I wrapped the sheet around me and got up. "It’s not a game. This is why they moved!"
"What? Who?"
"Sue– They moved after just six months.. They knew he was here."
"Who?"
"The ghost!"
"Sarah, there are no ghosts!"
"You can’t convince me of that because I saw him."
"Look, it’s late. All I want to do now is make love to my wife on our first anniversary."
He reached out to me then. His eyes were limp. Was I losing it? Did I really just imagine it all? Was it his cologne? I was feeling the wine buzz now, and I started to feel flushed all over. Pete was reaching out to me, removing the sheet once again. "Here, come to the bed." I just lay back, feeling like everything was exposed to him, and to whoever was hiding in the room. Pete usually knew exactly what to do to relax me, but this time he just lay back against the pillow. Then he stood up, and I just looked at him. He reached into his pocket.
He pulled a box out of his pocket, staggering in the process.
"I thought I felt you hard against me, not a box!" Now I was giggling, I couldn’t help it, I thought it was funny while trying to forget about the unfamiliar perfume. Oh, yes, the wine had gotten to me.
"It was me who was hard against you, and it will be me in about a minute."
He took my hand and pressed it against his crotch. He was right! It was him! That’s when the lights flashed on and off, and the candle beside the bed went out. Pete relit it, and turned off the bedroom light.
"See! Something’s not right..."
"Oh, relax!" He opened the box. "Huh?"
"Huh, what?" I said, peering into the box. It was empty? "Let me up!"
I ran over to the dresser, pulling out a scrolled piece of paper. I handed it to him. "Here."
He just stared at me, and I realized I was standing there naked.
"You’re beautiful."
The candle went out again, but not only the one by the bed, but the one in the hallway, and the living room, too. And the rose petals blew into a corner.
"How do you explain that?"
"Too much wine. Forget it, Suzie!"
I walked over to him, and decided not to give him the scroll of paper. "My name’s not Suzie! You called me another girls name on our first anniversary." I watched as he crawled back into bed.
"Sarah, Suzie, it’s close...."
He put his hands on my waist, drawing me against him. His cheek rested against my stomach, and I felt nausea creeping all over me. I pushed him back away from me, and removed his lips from kissing my stomach. I thought my husband was the most faithful man I’d ever met, but he just ruined our special night. The bedroom door slammed shut. Again, someone bumped the bed.
He ignored it all, and tried to lay me down against the bed. He climbed atop me, trying to enter me, but I kept resisting. My head was spinning and I had my eyes closed to the look on his face, but then I kept seeing long blond hair falling over my breast, and blue eyes staring into mine. He, whoever it was, had a way of touching every part of me; my inner and outer being, so much so that I began to dream about him, beside me, atop me, inside me. What a betrayer, am I. Suddenly, I had images of Pete with someone else. Someone who owned that perfume! "I need to sleep, Pete. The wine is getting to me." And the bumps in the night, I thought to myself.
"Come on, babe! I’m hot for you."
Again, I felt that bump against the bed. Maybe it was just my imagination, but every time Pete got close to me, the bump would get harder. How come Pete didn’t feel it? "We’ll make up for it tomorrow, okay? Nighty night" I turned over, and hoped he would pass out instead of touch me.
It was nearly dawn when I awoke. I felt his presence immediately. Again he exposed himself to me. He was shirtless, his trousers hugged his hips and legs. He stood with his arms folded and there was a frown on his handsome face. I scooted closer to Pete, but this time I didn’t feel afraid. I knew I was one of few who actually had a visual encounter.
That night when Pete went to work I sat with no radio and no TV. Me, and the terribly frightening, loud sounds of traffic. I waited. Would he show himself tonight? Or would he just bump the furniture to let me know he was there?
"I’m not afraid of you now– whoever you are." I waited a little longer.
Then...
Oh, the hands all over me were so exciting. Now, the lips were so hot against my neck. I wrapped my arms around Pete’s neck, savoring the heated feeling inside. When his fingers probed deep inside me, I nearly screamed out. But when he tongue probed deeper inside me, I did scream out.
I didn’t know I drifted off to sleep; therefore, I didn’t know I had been dreaming. The bump against the couch woke me. "Pete?" I looked toward the door. It wasn’t Pete.
"You’re here?"
His vision flashed in front of me. "Why are you here? What happened to you?"
"I was in a car wreck" He went to the sliding door overlooking the patio, and pointed. "Right there."
Now I was scared. I saw my own hands tremble.
"Don’t fear me, I have no call to hurt you."
"What is it that you want? Why do you roam? Why is your spirit not at rest?"
"I want to find my love. She was with me, and has been lost."
"Did she die also?"
"I don’t know. I NEED to know."
"Why me, why have you showed yourself to me?"
"You know what love is. I watch you. You love him like I loved my... You understand."
"I love something, I’m not sure what anymore. Have you showed yourself to anyone else? The people here before?"
"No, only you."
"Why?"
"You were the first to say you weren’t afraid of me."
"I was at first. I want to help you, but you can’t watch me with my husband anymore."
"I mourn for her. You remind me of memories with her. When we just..."
"Please don’t watch us anymore. When we just what?"
"You liked it."
Okay, I felt my own cheeks blushing. How did he know that?
"Do you have the ability to know my thoughts?"
"No, but I know women."
His eyes raked across my body. "And you are woman."
I pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around me, suddenly feeling exposed to him. "You make me uncomfortable. Why do you have to live here, why can’t you go to another place?"
"My body was badly injured, and I was thrown this way. I crawled onto this patio. They couldn’t save me."
"What about your love? What’s her name?
"I could see her being put in the rescue truck. I don’t know what happened to her."
He reached out to me.
I followed his hand as it came close to me. Fearful, I pressed back against the couch. "Can you touch me?" His hand was still in front of me, and I started to reach out to see for myself, but the phone rang, startling me so, and then he disappeared.
"Don’t go," I said before picking up the phone. "Hello?"
"Hey, what’s wrong, babe? Your voice sounds shaky."
How could I tell my husband that I was sitting here with a ghost who was reaching out to touch me? "Ah, nothing... I don’t know, maybe I was just daydreaming."
"Well, I was just calling to say I’m working late, maybe a few hours over."
This wasn’t what I wanted to hear. "Do you have to?" I glanced around the room, looking for him, but I didn’t see him, or feel him.
"I do, hon." There was a hesitation. "Try to get some sleep. I love you. Night."
"Pete, wait..." Too late. He already hung up. He sure was in a hurry. I went into the computer room, and logged on, going straight to Google. I didn’t know what to look for. There had to be more information. Then I searched the local paper for car accidents. No, nothing came up. I needed a date. And a name. I turned around when I felt the shiver that engulfed me when he was around. "I need a name," I said.
"My name?"
Damn, it still startled me when he was around. "Yes, or your fiancee’. And the date if you can remember."
"Do you think I don’t remember the day I died?"
I turned to look at him. He was very nice looking. His hair was long, past his shoulders, straight and sleek. A woman would love hair like his. I squinted, trying to see the color of his eyes. It was hard to tell. He looked familiar for some reason, but that wasn’t possible. His height was over six foot, by an inch or two. "What is your name?"
"Caulder. Caulder McCutchen." Her name was... is... It’s Sarah Sanders."
Caulder? Sarah Sanders? My hands froze on the keyboard. Was this some kind of cruel joke? "What do you mean, Sarah Sanders?"
"Her name. It was Sarah Sanders."
I turned to face him. "Are you playing some game with me? Some game that you, you...you ghosts play?"
"No!"
That must have been it. Some stupid ghost game, for he disappeared. I shoved my chair back, running though the apartment calling him. But he didn’t appear. Then I went back to my computer, once again typing in Google, but this time I typed in the name he gave me. Sarah Sanders... There it was in the local paper, ten years ago. An accident right out front of this apartment. I could see my patio in the news report. It said that Caulder made it as far as the patio out front before he died. It said that Sarah Sanders died on her way to the hospital . "Oh! How do I tell him?" I went back to the paper and searched for the obituaries. Dare I look? My hands froze on the keys after I typed the name in. I was so frightened now that I was trembling. I knew he was beside me now. I looked up but couldn’t see him. "Where are you, Caulder?" He was still there, but not saying a word. "You see this, don’t you?"
"I see it."
I could see him now. He became visible once again.
"Go on, type the words, do a search for her. Look at her picture."
"I can’t!" I could see him reaching for my hand at rest on the keyboard. I couldn’t hit enter. He did it for me. I closed my eyes.
"Look!"
His hand was on mine. I could feel it; it felt warm not cold. His hands went to my shoulders.
The phone rang, making me open my eyes, but I turned away from the screen!
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Sarah?"
"Yes, who is this?"
"Your husband, Pete is coming to be with me after work. I wouldn’t wait up for him."
"What, what? Hello?"
"You heard me right. I don’t think it’s fair for you not to know."
"Who are you?"
"The woman your husband is leaving you for. Nighty night!"
The buzz of the tone was all I heard. This couldn’t be true. We’ve only been married for a year. I looked over at Caulder.
"I’m sorry."
"Did you hear? Could you know what she said?"
"Yes, I can hear things without hearing, and I don’t know how I know things."
"Is it real?"
"Do you think it’s real?"
I was sitting here talking to a ghost. How would I know if what she said was real? Maybe he wasn’t real. Maybe I had lost my mind. Why was everything happening all at once?
"Are you ready to turn around and look at the screen?"
"No!"
"You must!"
His hands were on my face. He moved in and touched my lips with the pad of his thumb. Then, he just kissed me! I jerked the chair around, jumping up and running from the room, for those lips, and that kiss were all over me a short minute agowhile I slept. "You can’t do this!" I yelled on my way out. "I’m married to Pete! You can’t do this."
"Pete's not married to you!"
He followed me, still remaining visible. He caught me in the hallway, and pressed his body against me, pinning me against the wall. His lips were hot now, his tongue probing deeply. This couldn’t be a ghost! A ghost was lifeless, cold, unfeeling. This ghost was reaching deep into my soul, pulling something from me that I had forgotten. Suddenly, the memories flooded my head. The pain came back to me. My ribs were crushed. My legs were broken, and it hurt so badly. I couldn’t move! They were wrapping me in warm blankets. Where was Caulder? I heard myself calling his name. "Caulder!" I screamed between his kisses. How could this be? How could his fiancee’s name be Sarah Sanders? How could his lips feel so familiar? I leaned my head back against the wall. His lips were against my neck, going lower, then suckled my breasts, my hardened nipples. I wrapped my fingers around his hair. Why was this so familiar? "Caulder?" He stopped and looked deep into my eyes. His eyes were eyes I had seen before. I used to love those eyes. "Caulder, how?!"
He took my hand and escorted me back into the computer room.
"No, I can’t..." I turned away from the screen when we entered the room.
"Yes, my love, my Sarah, open your eyes."
I was shivering, trembling, shaking all at once. My eyes were closed so tightly that I could feel my own eyelashes prickling my eyes. He was telling me to open them. "No, I can’t."
"My Sarah, please open your eyes."
My chest was heaving, my breaths so quick, I could barely catch them. I reached for his hands. Again, they were so warm, and he pressed himself up against me from behind, holding me securely in his arms. I felt safe, but frightened at the same time. Taking a deep breath, I began to open my eyes until they were open all the way. There, on the monitor was the whole story of two lovers who were both killed in an accident on the most horrible highway in this part of the country. It told the story of Caulder McCutchen and Sarah Sanders, who were on their way to make wedding arrangements. They never made it. There it was right in front of me. The handsome face of Caulder. Beside his picture was the face of Sarah Sanders.
My face.
My name beside it. I looked at him, and as he held me, I felt the chill from his fingers. I felt the chill within my own body. He wrapped himself around me. "Come with me, Sarah," he said. "Come with me to find peace." I wrapped my arms around him, pressing against him until I felt warm all over. We took the chill away from one another. He took the hurt away. My lover, my fiancee’. I closed my eyes, and let him lead me. To where, I don’t know, but didn’t care either. It was him I longed for all this time. All these years. My Caulder... My love...
Our ghostly spirits mingled, and hand in hand we left there. At last finding peace. He came for me. After all those years, he found me. Me, who didn’t even know about him, until he came out of the foggy afterlife to find me. Together, we are as one now. Him and me... Caulder and Sarah. Lovers for all time, finally finding peace, and finally finding each other.
glitter-graphics.com
I'll tell you what inspired that story. When I lived in Belleville, Michigan in an apartment, there was a ghost there. He was about 19 years old, and wore a baseball cap cocked to the side. My roommate at the time saw him, but I never did. He spoke to me one night, saying my nickname, which I won't repeat here... He said, "_____ are you awake?" It was my roommate's voice! He worked the midnight shift, and this was in the wee hour of the morning, so I thought he had come home. I was asleep on the couch, and jumped up. No one was there. Talk about freaky! Another time, I was at work, and the roomy was asleep. The ghost spoke to him. He said, in my voice, "Wake up, it's time to get up!" Well, I was at work, and that's when he woke up and saw the ghost guy standing in the doorway. He called me at work right away. He was totally spooked.
When I was alone, I could sense him near me. At night I would pretend to be asleep, but I knew he was there. Sometimes he would stand right beside the couch in the dark. I think if I had reached out I could have touched him. He'd bump against the back or side of the couch. (The back faced the dining room, so you could walk around the couch.) When I slept in the bedroom, there was a master bath that I could see from the bed, and I know he was there in that hallway, watching. I was never so frightened, so often, as I was when I lived there. Only one time did my fear scare me away. I had to leave the apartment, and it was broad daylight. It was such an eerie, scary feeling I had that day.
Before we moved, I told him to find his peace and go to where he was supposed to be. I hope he did. So, that brings me back to the story I wrote. Some of it is true, like the young couple with the infant who sub-let the apartment to us. The traffic that never stopped was real. Terribely loud ALL the time. I let my imagination run away a little with this, and I could expand on it if I wanted to, but I don't know yet if I will. I had to make the decision for my character to stay with her husband or go with the ghost. I'm satusfied with my decision. I'll go back through it to see if there's more to tell. Come back to see what I decided.
Make your own blood this Halloween! Okay, if you're a real vampire, you probably won't like this. But for anyone else looking for blood, this is easy and doesn't cost as much as in stores. All you need is Karo syrup and food coloring. Be careful, it can stain, and is sticky!
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