More Than Helping Hands

Kate laid nude in the hotel room bed, the single sheet over half of her legs. She caught her breath from her latest orgasm—her 4th of the night. She spoke quite a bit to the ghost at first—encouraging one move or another, offering a smart-ass comment—but as the night wore on, words seemed less necessary. Extraneous.

Did the ghost pick and choose? No one really talked about it to her except Veronica, who only offered up information when Kate herself had brought it up. The rumors and stories themselves only seemed like something to sell the hotel. The actual ghostly events were a little bit less family-friendly than any story in the brochure, that was for sure.

“Unph...” Kate looked down at her chest as a single fingertip swirled around her left nipple, then disappeared and picked up again on her right. “You’re gonna wear me out like, way before 3AM.” She sighed a little as her clit was pressed the slightest bit. “Not that you don’t build me back up nicely.”

Hands grasped her hips, and she watched in astonishment as details and textures she hadn’t noticed before presented themselves—between her legs.

Soft, medium length hair on her thighs. The warm skin of cheeks and a very capable jaw brushing against her pussy. Soft lips and a tongue against her clit.

The ghost. More fully substantiated than before. Still completely invisible—but more than a couple pinching fingertips. More than the grasp of a hand or a swat on the ass.

Kate dared to reach down, and found a tuft of the same soft hair she could feel on her thighs. It was thick and strong—smooth as silk. She delighted in her finding, doubling down on her assertive turn and pulling the invisible head against her pussy, grinding against it and begging for more with her body.

“So you’re more than just grabby hands,” Kate cooed. “And all it took for you to show yourself to me was...giving myself to you for a ni—oh my god...”

Kate’s last thrust was answered by gravity disappearing under her. Now her body rose against the invisible head all on its own, and in just a couple of seconds she was sitting up, suspended by nothingness as she was eaten out by the horny ghost she decided to indulge for the night.

She chewed on the nail of her pinky finger, stupified by the sight. The room was a meter and a half under her, and she could look down at herself and see the workings of the invisible tongue playing with her cunt.

“Jean...isn’t going to believe this shit,” Kate said. “Even with what you’ve been doing with her.”

* * *

But Jean’s disbelief—and her apprehension—were rapidly disappearing. In the empty hotel lobby, she was seated, again, on nothing. It was more like she was riding a saddle than a chair, though. Her arms were drawn behind her, held there by the cuffs of her sleeves, and her legs were spread at shoulder-width and suspended in mid air. Her legs were curled back, and her thin black socks showed translucent as her toes curled behind them.

“I...swear...if someone comes in...” Jean knew she couldn’t possibly recover herself from this in a matter of seconds, and now--that was part of what was making her wet. From behind the desk, she’d look slightly restrained, bobbing up and down and making groans and hums. From beneath the hovering young woman, though...one would find her tight pussy being stretched by an impressive ghost cock. “Fuuuck,” Jean sighed. “That’s...that’s even better than anything you’ve done with your hands.” She whined a little, riding the air harder and letting herself go. Fuck the lobby. Fuck the job.

Let anyone see me taking it like this, Jean thought, blushing a little when she imagined it. She couldn’t believe herself. And Kate. As of her last check—still in her room.

“Are you...doing double-duty right now, or is there...more than one of you?” Jean asked, huffing the words. Her eyes flitted to the computer screen behind the desk, where a blank word processing file opened. The mouse jumped to life, changing a few settings as the keys began punching themselves.

Only me, the keys typed. You and your friend are both very open-minded...Veronica was right.

Jean read the words, and her jaw dropped. It was communicating with her directly.

“And you...finally start using language to communicate,” She giggled. The ghost drove into her harder, making her squeal. She felt something pull her close, and suddenly she realized she was feeling more than a ghost dick or a ghost hand—there were arms around her. Strong, firm arms. Invisible...but there all the same. And when she leaned in to them...a chest?! “H-holy fuck!” Jean cried out, blushing. “Y-you...it’s you!”

You like my body, then?

Jean read the words and grinned, nodding like a goon as she was bucked up and down by the ghost. “Are you fucking kidding? You...feel like an athlete.” She looked behind her. “Could...could I have my hands back?” The rigidity of her blouse sleeves vanished, and she immediately used the freedom to find the perimeter of her lovely, toned ghost boy. She ran her trembling hands over broad shoulders, sweeping up to a neck and a chiseled jaw. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck...” Jean mumbled. She couldn’t get over this shift in the ghost’s presence.

I want to show you even more, the keys typed. Veronica and I can do even more amazing things if others like you and Kate join our fun more often.

Jean wished she could keep a record of it—but every line was being highlighted and deleted as it was typed.

“Do...what?” Jean cooed.

Things that make this…

Jean cried out after she read the words, cumming against the pulsing ghost cock, letting her body go limp as she let all the tension out of her—letting the ghost carry her through the air without a thought of consequence.

…seem like an amusement ride.

She draped her arms around his neck—his head dipped to meet hers. There was something absolutely sweet about it—something pleasant and secure that dissolved her doubt.

“You’re...you’re fucking—amazing,” Jean said. She blinked a couple times and looked around the lobby as the embrace around her started fading. She was still protected from gravity by the ghostly , but his emulated body seems to dissolve around her. “Where are you going? And...if you have a body, I mean—like a shape...who were you?”

For another time, the keys typed once more as Jean was settled behind the lobby desk once more. Her panties and pants began slithering toward her, and she watched the screen as she was drawn closer to it. The keys were typing on their own again, and Jean reached down to try and find the invisible hands doing it. She passed right through them--if they were there at all. When the typing stopped, she read the rest of the message.

...but you’ve not long to wait. I’m preparing something for the hour for both you and your friend. If you join us in her room at 3:30, I can show you exactly what I mean.

Jean’s eyes flashed as her panties slid over her hovering feet, sliding up her legs. They were followed closely by her glossy leather pants. She reached out to the keyboard once more, but a series of shortcuts pressed, closing the word processing program. Jean heard the clicking of her ankle boots as the shiny, lacquer footwear paced in front of her feet and yawned open.

Between the typing and the emulated body, so many of her questions were answered—but so many new ones came up. There was Veronica...her and Kate...how long had this been going on? Were there others before her and Kate? Had the ghost revealed himself like this to either one of them?

Her boots zipped themselves up just as the indicator bell for the front door went off. Jean gasped. “Nice timing,” she muttered under her breath.

The second set of frosted doors opened, and a guy in a cap, jeans, and a button-down shirt appeared, carrying a stack of newspapers.

“Heya,” he said, dropping them into the holder and taking the remaining papers from the previous day.

“Morning,” Jean said back, watching him. Pretty cute for a paperboy, she thought, watching as he bent over to swap the stacks. Her eyes bulged as she watched his back pocket visibly deform, as if the ghost had decided to reach out and goose him. When he jumped up and turned, he nearly dropped the short stack of papers from the day before. A quick glance and scan behind him brought him back to Jean, who was prescient enough to look like she was just glancing up from her work.

“Something wrong?” Jean asked him. She had to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. What could he possibly say to her that wouldn’t make him look silly? He scanned the room again and shrugged.

“Still half-asleep, I guess. Have a good one.” She waved as he went right back out the frosted doors.

When the front door bell chimed again, she sighed, leaning back against nothing. Which meant…

“You said you had to go prepare...but you put my shoes on me. And, um...I’m sitting on you.” She had to giggle after saying it. “And...you messed with that poor dude.”

You wanted me to, said a soft, low-register voice in her mind. She trembled a little at the sensation. Even her pussy responded to the ghostly sound.

“Are...are you in my head now?” Jean asked.

It’s the opposite. You can hear my thoughts...because mine aren’t tied to one of these. Jean felt a gentle fingertip against the front of her skull. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind it.

Jean wiggled a little, riding her ass against the invisible and trying to push her engorged pussy against it.

“Does it feel like I mind it?” She giggled.