My Masked Lover - Erotic Sex

My Masked Lover
by Moist Dreams

Copyright 2009 Moist Dreams. All Rights Reserved.

Description
The new owner of a home has a pleasurable encounter with the former owner's wife.

Content
Straight sex.


The sun slowly set on All Hallows Eve, the sky awash in brilliant fiery tears, the last orange rays streaked through the chilled October air and then quietly slipped away. A shiver ran through my body as a breeze brushed my skin. After an hour or two of reading I decided to turn in early and snuggled into my warm soft bed.

Sometime, late in the night I awoke to a rattling at my window. Getting up to check I felt a warm wind blowing through the cracks and somehow I was sure that wind carried the scent of perfume. I looked out but saw nothing other than the full moon shining brightly into my room. I attempted to secure the window and turned to go back to bed. That's when I saw her.

A figure wearing a silky silver gown that glittered in the moonlight, dark curly hair reaching almost to her waist and moist full lips beneath a mask which covered the rest of her face. I tried to speak but no words would come and a smile spread across her lips. I felt drawn to her like I'd never felt with anyone before. She took a step toward me and I to her. After what seemed an eternity we finally stood before each other in the middle of the room. I could clearly make out her perfume now but was even more bewildered; it was a mixture of the scent of every woman I'd ever known, heated with a passion I'd never felt before.

I looked into her eyes and she smiled, reaching out to caress my face, I kissed her hand before it slid down my chest. Ever so slowly she pulled my pajama bottoms down and held them at my ankles as I stepped free of them. My excitement was clear to see, as I was not wearing any underwear at the time. Again she brushed my hair back and drew her fingers across my lips, her touch like a breath, so warm and gentle.

Those same fingers found the buttons of my pajama top and began to work them loose, soon my top joined its match on the floor and I stood before her as a newborn child. She gazed at me for moments, her stare burning my flesh with the desire in her eyes.

Returning to my eyes she smiled once again and slowly slipped the straps off her shoulders. Like the leaves fluttering down from the trees, even her gown took on a seductively graceful glide as it rippled to the floor. And finally there stood the most perfect form on which my eyes have ever been laid.

She then gently pushed me back and I fell into my bed with her quickly following behind. Her breasts fell to my chest as she leaned down for our first kiss and our love began to mingle with the meeting of our sugary lips. My arms encircled her waist and my hands enjoyed the smoothness of her back. There was no wasting time for her as she reached behind and took me in her grasp, fitting me snuggly into her other grasp and jerking backwards suddenly.

I gasped and closed my eyes, then she began to slowly rock, twisting and turning and moaning with each and every stroke. The scent of love filled the room as we shared, a man and woman lost in each other's delight. Before too long the night found us at our peak, the smooth gliding motions turning ragged as we shivered in one another's arms. We each clutched tightly at our partner and howled into the night. With our desire and pleasure satisfied and our bodies spent and weak we drifted off into a contented slumber wrapped up in our arms.

The next morning I awoke and my lover was no where to be found, was she only a dream?

Something made me go to the library to research the history of my home and the area roundabout. I learned of the first owner, by the name of James Christian Colwell, a wealthy banker and business owner over a century ago, also the husband of the magnificent Kathleen Marie. It seems one night he arrived home early and Kathleen wasn't there, but he found footprints leading off into the woods. Fearing his lovely wife had been kidnapped he grabbed his gun and ran into the forest. The prints finally led him to a run down old shack with smoke rising from its chimney.

Bursting in James found a man and woman in bed, she wear a mask to hide her identity. Tearing it off James discovered it to be his wife and in a blind rage shot the lovers right there in their bed of sin. The newspaper article had a description of the mask and there was no question I'd been with Marie last night. A chill ran through my body and I raced back to my home.


That night, Halloween night, the man who wrote the above died in his sleep. The coroners' report said it was a massive heart attack, probably brought on by heavy drinking. But I spoke to a neighbor who said they heard screams coming from the old house. No one knows what really happened, but I believe the ghost of J. C. Colwell took revenge on yet another of his wife's lover's.

The End.