Ghostly Love

Written by Lady Cat

 

Chapter 1 

At the end of a deserted dirt road was a wooden house, long since abandoned. No one went there as tales abounded of it being haunted with demonic spirits. In reality, there was only one lonely spirit that resided there. Her name was Sherie. Sherie had developed a very special liking for a human, who was named The Undertaker. She would look outward from her abode and see him riding by on his Harley. Several times she noticed he would stop, but never ventured in her direction. From the moment she saw him, she knew he was different. She sensed he was looking for something, thinking he would find it there, but would always turn and ride away.

It had been several months since she had seen him, and she grew lonely from his absence. She knew where he lived, so one night, when there was no moonlight, she ventured from her home and headed for his house. When she arrived, she saw it was dark except for one small light which shown in the front. She stopped at the window and looked in. She knew he was not home and entered into the living room. She scanned the room, carefully noting any and every item she saw. She went on to the hallway and entered his bedroom and saw it decorated in black and purple.

She sniffed the air, the essence of his cologne lingering. She heard the sound of an approaching vehicle and rushed to the living room just as the front door opened. He was home.

Taker was tired and wearily dropped the suitcase. All he wanted to do was take a hot shower and go to bed. He went to the kitchen and took a beer from the fridge, downing it in a couple of gulps. The road life was getting to him. It was about time to reconsider how much longer he could keep it up. Grabbing another beer, he headed to his room. He immediately began to strip, flexing his shoulders.

Sherie watched, fascinated with the length of his body, the tattoos especially catching her eye. She gasped when he turned seeing that part of him she had only guessed. Even ghosts have their urgings.

While Taker had undressed, he felt his skin break out and the fine hairs on the back of his neck bristled. He sensed he was not alone. He looked around, but saw nothing. Taking a deep breath, he drank the second beer, sitting it on the nightstand to finish after his shower.

Sherie followed him into the bathroom. The room soon filled with steam as he stepped in and let the water run over his weary body. She watched as he washed, wanting to touch him to ease his stiffness. She reached out, her hand going through the curtain. She pulled back when he turned the water off, grabbing the towel and drying himself. Just as he had dried his arms, he felt something warm sliding down his right arm, then across his chest. Again his skin broke out. He entered the bedroom, again looking around and finding nothing. Thinking it was just fatigue, he dropped the towel by the bed, and crawled under the covers, not bothering to put on any underwear. He turned out the light and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to drift off, something warm softly kissed his forehead. For some reason he smiled and drifted into deep sleep.

It was late the next morning when Taker opened his eyes. He turned on his side and noticed the beer can was gone. He rubbed his eyes. "Can't be,Ü¥h_cà _____e______€________º.__þ7__________________º+___________________________________6__ì____6__ì___ì6______ì6______ì6______ì6______ì6_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_____7_______7_______7__H____7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7_______7______d7__X___¼7__B____7______________________ì6_______7_________________7_______7_______________________7_______7_______7_______7______ì6______ì6_______7_______________________7_______7_______7_______7_______7______ì6_______7______ì6_______7_______7______________@ZKk_Å__7_______7______ì6______ì6______ì6______ì6_______7_______7_______7_______7____________________________________________________________________________________________Ghostly LoveLady CatChapter 1At the end of a deserted dirt road was a wooden house, long since abandoned. No one went there as tales abounded of it being haunted with demonic spirits. In reality, there was only one lonely spirit that resided there. Her name was Sherie. Sherie had developed a very special liking for a human, who was named The Undertaker. She would look outward from her abode and see him riding by on his Harley. Several times she noticed he would stop, but never ventured in her direction. From the moment she saw him, she knew he was different. She sensed he was looking for something, thinking he would find it there, but would always turn and ride away.It had been several months since she had seen him, and she grew lonely from his absence. She knew where he lived, so one night, when there was no moonlight, she ventured from her home and headed for his house. When she arrived, she saw it was dark except for one small light which shown in the front. She stopped at the window and looked in. She knew he was not home and entered into the living room. She scanned the room, carefully noting any and every item she saw. She went on to the hallway and entered his bedroom and saw it decorated in black and purple. She sniffed the air, the essence of his cologne lingering. She heard the sound of an approaching vehicle and rushed to the living room just as the front door opened. He was home.Taker was tired and wearily dropped the suitcase. All he wanted to do was take a hot shower and go to bed. He went to the kitchen and took a beer from the fridge, downing it in a couple of gulps. The road life was getting to him. It was about time to reconsider how much longer he could keep it up. Grabbing another beer, he headed to his room. He immediately began to strip, flexing his shoulders. Sherie watched, fascinated with the length of his body, the tattoos especially catching her eye. She gasped when he turned seeing that part of him she had only guessed. Even ghosts have their urgings.While Taker had undressed, he felt his skin break out and the fine hairs on the back of his neck bristled. He sensed he was not alone. He looked around, but saw nothing. Taking a deep breath, he drank the second beer, sitting it on the nightstand to finish after his shower.Sherie followed him into the bathroom. The room soon filled with steam as he stepped in and let the water run over his weary body. She watched as he washed, wanting to touch him to ease his stiffness. She reached out, her hand going through the curtain. She pulled back when he turned the water off, grabbing the towel and drying himself. Just as he had dried his arms, he felt something warm sliding down his right arm, then across his chest. Again his skin broke out. He entered the bedroom, again looking around and finding nothing. Thinking it was just fatigue, he dropped the towel by the bed, and crawled under the covers, not bothering to put on any underwear. He turned out the light and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to drift off, something warm softly kissed his forehead. For some reason he smiled and drifted into deep sleep.It was late the next morning when Taker opened his eyes. He turned on his side and noticed the beer can was gone. He rubbed his eyes. "Can't be,rent from everyone else, thus his ring persona, which very much was him in real life. But there was one more thing he wanted to know. "Why me?"

"I found myself wanting you. Wanting to touch you, to kiss you, to have you with me, even if it was only for a night."

Taker had bedded many women, women who wanted him so they could boast to their friends they had sex with The Undertaker. Those times had left him perhaps physically satisfied, but inside it had left him empty and used. Here was a spirit, a beautiful one at that, who wanted to make love to him, not for the sake of it, but because she cared about him. "How could such a thing be done?" he asked.

"Put out your hand and close your eyes."

Instantly Taker felt her hand touching his. "Now open them." Taker opened his eyes. He looked down to see a real hand. With his other, he touched her face. She was real, her physical being even more beautiful. Tilting her chin, he lowered his face till their lips touched. They were warm and soft, just as last night. Sherie returned his kiss, her arms circling his waist.

CHAPTER 3

Taker held her tighter as they explored each other's mouths. Bolts of white hot heat shot through his body. Sherie backed away. Taking his hand, she led him to another room, done in shades of blue and black. Taker couldn't believe this was part of the house. Where had she taken him? He saw her hand drop from his and begin to undo her dress, letting it drop to the floor.

The effect was what she wanted. Taker felt he had been hit with a sledge hammer. Taker stood there as Sherie began removing his clothes. His skin became hot wherever she touched him. When they were both naked, she laid back on the bed. Taker knelt, the bed sagging under his tremendous weight. Their eyes locked, as once again he lowered his face to taste her lips. He lay beside her, his lips tracing the outline of her neck, making their way to her breasts. Caressing them, he tenderly kissed them, sucking her nipples till they hardened. Her hands roamed his body, finding the length of him, stroking him till he felt he would burst. Opening her legs, he positioned himself and entered, thrusting slowly at first. Sherie gasped at first, but soon matched his rhythm with her own. Taker kissed her throat, easing up to kiss her lips once again.

Sherie pushed him onto his back, staying with him as she was not on top. Now it was her turn. She kissed his neck, laving her way to his chest, taking each nipple in her mouth, laving it while e moaned. He felt her move, and ease her body down. He jumped as her warm mouth encircled his member, licking, sucking, making him cry for more. She moved up his body and brought herself down. Taker held her hips, her motions like that of the tide on the ocean. He jerked as now her spirit was deep inside him. He felt her touching his soul, caressing it, making love to it. This was beyond the real world. Never had he felt so complete, this was what he had craved for so many years. Sherie too felt complete. Her very inner being alive and being loved. Holding her hips still, he thrust deeper till they both cried out, exploding as one.

Sherie lay to his side, cradled in the crook of his arm. She looked outside. It was now dark. She turned his face to her. Taker kissed her lips. Whatever thoughts there were they both knew. "Will you stay with me the night?" she asked.

Taker caressed her cheek. "I'll stay the night with you."

SIDE NOTE:

The newspapers carried the article of the disappearance of The Undertaker. They stated that despite efforts by both the police and FBI, no trace of the WWE Superstar was ever found, except for a monogrammed towel, and a Harley, parked in front of an abandoned house.

The End