Possession
by Derek Williams
Chapter One – The Shadow on My Wall
When I got kicked out of my last apartment I was pretty bummed out. It wasn't my fault, every month for the two years that I lived in the place I paid my rent on time, but the city had approved construction of some fancy condo building, so I got three months notice and had to go hunting.
Three months was forever compared to the last time I'd had to pick out a place. Back then, I had just moved to town for my IT job at the magazine, and I only had a week to find my apartment. This time I was determined to do it right, and not pick some place that I'd be driven out by condo developers.
I scoured craigslist, I looked online, hell I even picked up a newspaper. What ultimately did it for me was just wandering by The House.
It was this little two bedroom house just south of downtown. I hadn't been looking at houses, they tend to be more expensive, but the sign on the front lawn of this one had price front and center. It was less than a thousand bucks for two bedrooms. I had to have a look.
I called the number on the sign, and she was there within a few minutes. We wandered around the house. It wasn't huge. The landlord said that it built back in the 50s by some recluse. It had a front room, kitchen, dining room and then upstairs the two bedrooms and washroom. I think there was an attic too but I didn't really notice that at the time.
All in all, it wasn't much bigger than my last apartment, but it was cheap and it was near work and I was tired of looking. I thought about asking the landlord why it was so cheap, but I figured it was probably just some bad pipes that I could fix. No point in her fixing them and raising the rent on me.
So that's how I ended up signing the lease on The House. At the time, I thought I was getting a good deal.
* * *
It was a still day in May when I moved in, and I could tell I was going to get sunburned. I'd lured a few buddies over to help me with the promise of beer, and by 3 o'clock we had everything moved. We spent the afternoon lounging on the front porch, drinking beers and whistling at pretty girls when they walked by. After the pizzas were done and I kicked everybody out, I wandered upstairs and fell down on my bed amid piled boxes.
Life was great for a couple of weeks. Work was going well, The House and I seemed to get along, and summer has always been my favourite season. I don’t think I noticed it getting creepy until a couple weeks later.
There was a shadow, and I had no idea what was causing it.
It looked like the shadow that man would cast, but there wasn't anyone there. It had to be a trick of the light. I kept moving things around my room, trying to see if I could make it change, but no matter what I did it just stuck there on the wall.
Initially the shadow weirded me out, but eventually, you can learn to live with anything. The shadow became more of an in-joke for me than anything else. Before I left for work in the morning, I would pose and line myself up with the shadow. It was in better shape than I was, so it was kind of cool to pretend I was casting it.
It actually turned into part of my morning routine. Coffee, shower, pose against the shadow and get dressed for work. Some nights, when I stumbled home after a few beers with my buddies, I even forgot that it wasn’t my shadow. Those nights, I’d pose against it and feel pretty great about how all the work I put in at the gym was paying off.
* * *
One night, I was sitting downstairs, just relaxing and watching some TV. It was late June, and the house was stuffy, so I was sitting around in a pair of shorts and flip-flops. In the space of a few seconds, the room suddenly got chilly. I slipped on a ‘beater I had discarded earlier. I couldn’t help but notice that my nipples poked out against it, hard from the rush of cool air.
I figured there had to be a storm moving in or something. I went over to close up the front door, but the moment I stepped out onto the porch the coolness evaporated. It was a muggy summer night, filled with old people walking their dogs and children running up and down the street.
I shook my head and went back inside. The chill enveloped me again.
That’s when I heard something upstairs. I moved to the remote and muted my TV. Then, I heard it clearly. There was a slow, steady knocking coming from upstairs.
KNOCK.
I stepped towards the stairs, wondering if I was being burgled. Maybe I should grab my baseball bat or a frying pan or something. Nah, this wasn’t some sitcom from the fifties and I wasn’t a frightened housewife, I didn’t need props to scare off some intruder.
My heart beat fast as I put my foot on the first step.
KNOCK.
I climbed the stairs, trying not to let the old wood squeak too much. If there was someone up there, I wanted to surprise them.
KNOCK.
It was getting faster. By the time I reached the landing, it was almost constant.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
I put my hand on the bedroom doorknob. It was icy cold to the touch. Slowly, I turned the knob and pushed the door open, ready to confront the world's worst burglar.
There was no one there. Just my friend, the shadow.
Somehow the shadow didn’t seem so friendly anymore. I left the door open, and returned downstairs. The cold had dissipated and the room was warm and quiet again, so I tried to forget the whole thing and focus on my beer and my TV.
It doesn't matter how much of a tough guy you are, unexplained knocking at your bedroom door will fuck with you. I told myself it had to be a storm blowing in.
* * *
As the days went on, The House became more insistent in attracting my attention. Sometimes, all the lights would go out, then just the one in the bedroom would come back on, until I went up and looked at the shadow. Other times, the same chill would return, along with the knocking. Once, that chill came over the room and my phone rang with an unknown number. I didn’t recognize the voice at the other end.
“Scott?” it asked.
“Who is this?” I was freaked out, and it didn’t help when the line went to static. I didn’t even know a cell phone could have a dead line go to static.
I could feel something coming on, the same way you can feel winter’s approach.
If I had been smart, I would have gotten out then. It wasn't like I didn't have enough warning. But the rent was too cheap, and the location too good.
The location was great actually. Every Friday and Saturday I went out bar hopping downtown, and even though I'm not the biggest or the best looking guy, I always had some interest in me.
One Friday night, mid-summer, this girl decided to come home with me. Julie, I think her name was. She was this cute little brunette, and I couldn't wait to get her into bed. I'll admit, I'd been having a bit of a dry spell.
"So, like you rent this whole place." She seemed really impressed by The House.
"Yeah," I said trying to sound impressive. "I have a really good job. I probably make too much money.". Sometimes you have to lie to impress a girl, and I'll admit, I was more than a little drunk.
She just giggled and whipped out her compact to check her makeup. I headed off to the bathroom to take a leak. I was halfway through when she screamed.
I wasn't sure what was going on, but I came running. She had a shocked look on her face, and she just kept opening and closing her mouth. "What's wrong?" I asked.
She pointed at the little mirror. "There… There was a man there."
I looked at where she was standing. She would have been holding the mirror up right in front of the shadow.
"Baby," I said, trying to calm her down. "There's nobody here but us."
"No," she said. "I'm sure. There was a man dressed in a suit. He looked like something out of an old movie."
I showed her the doors were all locked. I walked her around The House and showed her that nobody else was there. It didn't do any good, she was seriously freaked out. Every bit of evidence I gave her that we were alone only served to scare her more. She gathered up her things and I called her a cab.
I'll admit that I was drunk and pretty pissed off. After she left, I went up to my bedroom and started yelling at the shadow. That's when it struck me just how creepy this thing really was, no matter how used to it I was. On a hunch, I grabbed the mirror off the back of the bedroom door, and put it down in front of the shadow.
I jumped backwards.
There was a guy there, dressed just like she said, like he just stepped out of the 50s. He was wearing a suit, and old fedora hat, and he had to go coldest gaze I've ever seen. He was maybe 25, with jet black hair and defined features. And he was really built.
I just knew. This was his shadow.
"Hello Scott," he said in that voice from the phone call. “I’m James. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Chapter Two – The Offer I Couldn’t Refuse
James stood there in the mirror, staring at me. He wasn’t any less youthful than me, but the old-fashioned way he dressed and the look in his eyes betrayed age.
"What do you want," I asked.
"Who says I want anything?"
"You're a ghost. Ghosts always want something. There's no reason for you stay around unless you want something."
"Well," he said. "I guess you got me all figured out."
"So what do you want?"
"It's easy Scott," he said. "I want to share your life."
I backed away from the mirror, as if getting further from the image would keep me safe. "Do you mean you want to take control of my life. "
"No I don't," said the ghost. "I just want to look over your shoulder. I want you to go out and about your life, and I want to see you living."
The request seemed a bit strange, but to be honest I was talking to a ghost in my bedroom.
I didn't know what to make of it, but I don't believe you get something for nothing. I said to the ghost, "So, what's in it for me?"
The man in the mirror responded, "What's in it for you, my friend, is everything I can give you.
"You see I might be a ghost but that doesn't mean I can't affect the real world. In order for us to do this I'll have to join with you. I don't mean to be immodest, but I was a good looking guy in my time.
"You'll become better looking, you'll gain some of my muscle, frankly the chicks are gonna go wild. "
I thought about that. Was that even possible?
Again, it occurred to me, I was talking to a ghost in my bedroom.
"Can anything go wrong?" I asked.
"No," he said. "It's an easy process."
In retrospect, I guess I should've asked how he knew all that.
I know you’re probably thinking that I’m some huge idiot, but I was drunk and horny, and more than a little freaked out. Even though my life was going well, who in their right mind would turn down becoming hotter.
I thought about Julie, and how pissed off I’d been when she’d left. If I took the ghosts offer, I’d be so deep in women that I’d never even miss her.
“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
James’ eye’s sparkled and his face broke into a wide grin. “Alright,” he said.
I remember the mirror flashing, just like a camera flash. Suddenly I felt overwhelmingly tired and disoriented. I fell into the bed, feeling like I was about a six-pack farther than I should have gone, wriggled out of my clothes, and collapsed naked on top of the covers.
* * *
The clock beside my bed was showing 11:44 when I woke up. The sun was slanting over the hardwood floor, giving the room a surreal glow. I remember thinking that I felt happy and warm. For a few minutes, I just laid back and watched the dust motes dance.
The first change I noticed was my cock. While I basked in the sun, it was becoming painfully hard. I don't normally jerk off in the morning but this felt urgent. So I reached down and grabbed my rod.
Except it wasn't my rod. It's a little embarrassing to admit, but I've always had a little dick, only about five inches. The python I wrapped my hand around was at least eight inches long, maybe longer. It was sensitive too, a slight touch of my hand brought it to full attention.
I sat halfway up in bed and looked down at it. My cock had super-sized itself during the night, and that wasn't all. It was surrounded by thick, bushy black pubes. I've always had light brown hair. The starkness of my new bush was shocking.
That's when I remembered what had happened the night before. The shadow and the ghost and the mirror. Mirror. I jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom, eager to see what had happened to me.
I still looked like me, but there was something different. To start with, my face looked undefinably manlier. My jaw a little more defined, my hair a little shinier, my regular short stubble was thick and black. It looked like I'd have to shave every day now. There was something about my eyes too. They'd always been a muddy brown, but now they were this bright piercing green. It went great with my healthier looking brown hair.
The rest of my body had changed far more. Instead of the small but respectable chest I'd always had, I now had a solid set of pecs. They were flanked by large shoulders and veiny biceps. Under the shelf they now formed, I had a flat stomach, bordering on a six pack.
My lower body hadn't done badly either. My legs looked solid, but not overly bulky. The biggest surprise was the great ass I now had. I was glad that I'd always hidden my body behind baggy clothes, because once I started showing this off, people were gonna notice. Hell, with an ass like that, there was no way I could avoid showing off.
The biggest surprise for me was all the hair. I couldn't tell if it was because it was darker or if it was because there was so much more of it. My pit hair stuck out the side when I put my arms down. I was definitely gonna have to trim it when I wanted to wear a beater.
And of course, there in the middle of it all was my snake of a cock. It stuck out proudly, and my hard on wasn't showing any signs of going away on it's own.
I strutted back into my bedroom, pulled the lotion out of my table drawer, and started beating off. This cock had all sorts of sensitive spots my old one didn't. I blew my load in under a minute.
Moments later, my stomach started growling intensely. I found an old pair of sweatpants in my closet that still managed to fit, and wandered downstairs to find some food.
* * *
I spent all day getting ready to debut my new body to the world. All of my old clothes were practically skintight, so I spent some time and money downtown, picking up some new shirts and jeans. I got a lot of attention from the sales girls, but for some reason, I wasn’t trying to score their numbers. Probably just saving it for tonight, I told myself.
That night, I ended up in this club just off the main drag. It was filled with beautiful girls. I sauntered in, feeling cocky and confident. There was no way this night could go bad. I ordered a drink and took a position at the bar. There were lots to choose from, and I wanted to make sure to get the pick of the litter.
I fixed my attention on this blonde in a low cut pink top and a short skirt. She was going to be mine. She was with a group of friends at a table, but she didn't seem very interested in them. Instead, she was looking over towards the bar. Looking towards me.
I flashed her a grin. She didn't return the favor.
A moment later, she smiled. Damn, she wasn't smiling at me. I looked to my right and saw the guy she was interested in. Honestly, I couldn't blame her. He was hot.
Fuck, where did that come from.
The guy was tall, about 6 feet. He was lanky, not nearly as much muscle as me, but it looked good on him. He wore well fitting jeans and his shoulders pressed out of his dress shirt. For some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off him.
"What's up buddy," he asked. His voice was unexpectedly deep. I was standing there like an idiot, just staring at him. He had me pinned with those stunning grey eyes.
"Uh… Um… "
He was giving me this grin.
"Uh, I think that girl over there is looking at you."
He glanced over his shoulder and had a look. "Yeah, well she's not really my type." Then he stuck his hand out and said, "Aaron."
"Sc… Scott…" I stuttered. "Nice to meet you man, I gotta go."
I swear, normally I'm smoother than this.
He put his hand on my shoulder, “Hey, you've barely started your drink. Wasting boozes is a sin you know.”
I hammered my beer back. I hope I wasn't sending the wrong signal, because his hand slid off my shoulder down onto my bicep. I drained the last of the beer, "Well, that's taken care of."
"Can I get you another?" he asked.
"No thanks. Really, I've got to go. "
"That's a shame," he said.
I hurriedly left the bar. On my way out, I think I heard him say "See you around Scotty."
I have never been so hard.
Chapter Three – Confessions Out of The Mirror
I ran into my bathroom and splashed my face with cold water. I couldn’t explain how I felt. My heart was beating fast, my palms were sweaty. It was like the first time I ever danced with a girl.
When I looked up, James was standing behind me. I whirled around to confront him, but he was gone. When I turned back towards the mirror, I could see him reflected there.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” I barked at the ghost.
“I merged with you Scott. You’re slowly becoming more like me.”
"This is gone far enough," I said. "I don't need you. I was okay before, and I'll be okay again. Once you're gone."
"It's not that easy. You've let me in, and there's no way I'm leaving." said the ghost.
So that was the trap.
I glared into the mirror. I think that if tossing him out had been my choice, he would flown through the wall, right then and there. But apparently, it wasn't my choice.
"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?" I asked.
The ghost looked at me with malicious look. I don't think I’d seen it before we joined, but somehow I knew it's always been there. "Sure," he said. "Why not, you're mine now."
"The year was 1954, and if you know anything about 1954 you'll know that it wasn't a very good time for people like me. Fact is, they were making films to warn schoolchildren about homosexuals.
"My friends from work we're always trying to set me up with some broad. One week it was Sally from accounting, the next it was Bernice from the typing pool. Every weekend, I went out with them and had a few drinks, and then very politely dropped them off at home and never did anything. As far as the girls at the office were concerned, I was paragon of virtue.
"But then again, they didn't know my secret.
"I knew there were other guys like me. I knew I wasn't just some pervert. But I could never bring myself to…
"I could never bring myself to do anything about it.
"One night I was out for drinks with Amanda. She was this pretty girl who worked as a secretary for one of the higher ups in the office. It wasn't just us, there were a couple of other guys and their girls. I was trying to listen to Amanda as she went on about some scandal that was happening in the upper office. Honestly I was never much for gossip.
"Well I was looking around the room trying not to look like I was too bored, I noticed this guy at the end of the bar. He had the most amazing eyes. So what did I do? I looked away quickly. A couple of minutes later I glanced back in his direction, and he was looking right at me.
"I never expected that to happen there. It wasn't one of those kind of bars.
"But I could tell he wanted me."
I didn't know it was possible for a ghost to look haunted.
"So," I asked. "Did you go over and talk to him?" I couldn't believe I was getting wrapped up in his story. The guy was possessing my body, turning it into a fag, but somehow the story was compelling.
"No," said the ghost. "I didn't talk to him that day. But about a week later, I was sitting in some diner downtown. There he was. He sat down across from me in the booth, and he just started talking.
"He said his name was Frankie, and he asked if I'd like to get to know him better sometime. I'll admit, I got scared. I think he could see me sweat. So, he put a business card down on the table, and slid it across. He told me to call him if I ever changed my mind.
"I stared at that business card every day for months, thinking hey, I should call him.
"And then one lonely Friday evening, I made the call. He asked me to meet him downtown at this fancy hotel. The girl at the desk just gave me a knowing look, and the bellhop showed me upstairs.
“I remember being so scared as I walked past all those hotel room doors. I was wondering who was at the peephole, watching me. Judging me. I knew that if I ever got caught my life was over. All my mother ever wanted was grandchildren. My old man paid for this house actually, he was hoping that I’d settle down.”
James laughed. It wasn’t a good laugh.
“I ended up standing in front of room 403, paying off the bellman and trying to work up the courage to knock. I heard someone coming down the hall, and that made up my mind for me. I knocked, and there he was. Frankie fixed me in those deep green eyes and I stepped inside.
“The sex was sudden and desperate. We were like animals, ripping off clothing and pushing each other on the bed. It was weird, how much it felt like wrestling with one of the guys at summer camp when I was a young man. Except this time, whenever I got the urge to kiss him or run my tongue down his cock, I could.
“I fell asleep, exhausted and sweaty. I felt so content and safe against him. I remember in the morning, lying there staring at the sun, and wondering why everyday couldn't be like today.
"And then, lying in the golden sunlight, watching his chest heave up-and-down, I panicked. I got up quietly. I left his business card behind. And when I walked out of the hotel, I gave up on that life.
"But it's all right. We're going to get it right this time."
The sudden end to the story caught me off guard.
I almost couldn't bring myself to ask. "What you mean, get it right?"
"You know what I mean," said the ghost. "It's already started. We're going to meet someone great. We're going to fall in love. And in the end, we'll live happily ever after."
"That's not going to happen," I said. "I'm not a fag."
"Not yet," said the ghost. "But once I'm finished, you're going to be fabulous."
Suddenly my muscles didn't seem like such a great deal.
Chapter Four – Falling Deeper
Downstairs, I could hear knocking. It was one in the morning, I was standing at the mirror fighting with the ghost that was slowly taking over my life. I’ll admit I was still reeling from his admission that he was using me to live out the gay love story he denied himself.
Normally, I’d ignore it when there’s noise at one in the morning, but that night I turned my back on the mirror and went to answer the door.
It was the guy from the bar. The one with the grey eyes that locked onto me and wouldn’t let me go.
“Hey,” he said in that deep voice. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a creep or anything, but you left so fast that you forgot your wallet on the bar and I wanted to return it.”
He held out my wallet. I reached out and took it from him, tucking it into my back pocket. “Thanks man.” I brushed my hair back, even though it wasn’t in my eyes. “It was Aaron, right?”
“Yeah,” he grinned. I don’t know what it was, but I felt a little unsteady when he grinned. But hey, when your live-in ghost tells you he’s turning you into a fag, you’ve got a right to feel a little unsteady.
There was an awkward pause for a moment while he stood at the threshold. Then he smiled again and said “Well, I guess I should be going.”
I was about to thank him again and wish him a good night when I felt a sudden chill running up my spine. For a moment, it seemed like the ghost was focussing all his energy on me.
My head felt wooly, like it usually did after a kegger. I was light-headed, and the words just popped out of my mouth.
“Actually, can I offer you a beer or something? Least I can do.”
All at once the presence drained out of me, and I was myself again. Aaron was grinning again as he agreed to a drink and came inside.
Fuck, now I had to sit here and have a drink with this guy. It’d be rude not to. I made up a half-dozen justifications for it, but I had to admit that there was something compelling about the guy. I almost wanted him to stick around.
I cracked open a couple of beers, and we sprawled out in my living room and started chatting. Aaron was actually a really cool guy, even if he was checking me out the whole time. We got talking about work. It turns out he’s a magazine photographer at one of the big sporting mags downtown. That turned into talking about some of the players he’d gotten to meet and photograph, and the games that he’d gotten free tickets to. Somewhere in there, the video games got turned on and we ended up drinking beer, shooting zombies, and chatting like old bros.
About five o’clock, the first rays of sunlight burst through and Aaron just about jumped out of his skin.
“Shit. I’m sorry dude, I didn’t mean to stay so late. I gotta run, there’s this family thing at noon, and if I don’t get a few hours of sleep I’m gonna be dead.”
“Hey,” I said, “It’s cool. I haven’t had this much fun in forever.”
“You’re a cool guy Scotty,” Aaron said. “We should do this again. I’ll call you?” he held up his phone.
I typed my number in and made sure that I got his. We both got up and headed for the door. At the threshold, he turned around and said “It was great to meet you.” Then he leaned in quickly and gave me a peck on the cheek. “I’m glad you forgot your wallet.”
After Aaron left I stumbled upstairs and fell into bed. I was painfully hard, but I wasn’t going to beat off over some dude.
* * *
When I woke up, I could feel the hangover trying to squeeze my brain out through my ears. According to the clock on my nightstand it was two in the afternoon. My mouth was bone dry. There were aspirins in the bathroom, but I didn’t want to go in there.
After a few minutes, my pounding head won out.
“Hello Scott,” the ghost was waiting for me when I walked in. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself after all.”
“Shut the fuck up James.” I wasn’t in the mood for this shit. I popped the pills and leaned down to drink from the faucet.
“I’m just saying, it felt like you had a great time last night, once you got over yourself and invited him in.”
“Whoa. I invited him in? You fucking life-destroyer, you like, took over my body or something. I was ready to send him on his way, and next thing I know I can feel you sliming your way up my spine.” James had struck a nerve with me on that one.
“You’re right, of course,” James sighed. “I did have to give you a little nudge. But only a little one. I’ve never really been able to take over someone’s body.”
A dark through jumped into my mind.
“James...exactly how many other guys have you done this to?”
For a second James looked bashful. I opened my mouth, ready to start screaming at him, hangover be damned.
“Including you makes an even dozen.”
“A dozen? What the hell happened to them? Why didn’t you ride one of them to your happily-ever-after instead of fucking with me?” The violation had almost seemed inevitable if it was just me, but eleven other guys? Maybe there was a way out of this.
I almost didn’t dare to hope.
“Scott, if a guy really wants to, he can push me away from him. He can expel me back into this house and I can’t do anything about it.”
Instantly, I started trying to push. What muscles do you have to tense to push out a ghost?
“But it’s not like you think,” he said. “You’re changed now, and that’s not going away. Every single man who’s bonded with me has kept the looks. And the homosexuality. You can push me out of your life Scott, but you’ll never go back to who you were.”
For a moment, I stopped pushing. “So, no matter what I do, I’m going to stay hot, horny, and gay?”
“Yeah, you’ve got it.”
“But I’m not gay yet. I’m not done changing,” I lied to James. “You’ve just got me all turned around.”
James stared me down with his tired eyes. “Scott. Do you like Aaron? Honestly. If you do, please don’t throw this away. Don’t run from it.”
“I’m not going to be your puppet.”
“Then don’t be. But please, don’t run from this if it’s something good. Trust me. I did. It’s a miserable life. Do you like Aaron?”
I just stood there, unable to answer. I couldn’t say yes, I couldn’t give in, even though deep down I knew the answer.
Thank god my phone rang. I answered, eager to get away from the question.
“Hey Scotty!” It was Aaron. “Do you want to grab dinner tonight?”
* * *
It was cool that night, and I wasn’t prepared for the bite of the air as we left the restaurant. I shivered, which only made Aaron put his arm around me. We’d both had a couple of beers, and all throughout supper my resistance had been melting.
I’d gone into the evening prepared to tell Aaron I didn’t want to see him again. Somehow he’d been witty, charming, and handsome. In the space of an hour, I thought from ready to tell him off to strolling down the street with his arm around me.
If my friends could see me, they’d be calling me a fag forever.
And they might be right.
“Can I ask you something,” he asked.
“Sure.”
“I feel like I’ve been getting really mixed signals from you,” he said. “For a while, I wasn’t even sure if you liked me, or if I was just imagining it.”
“Honestly,” I said, “you’re the first guy I’ve ever gone out with. Until I saw you, I never even thought about being with a guy.”
Aaron’s face split open in a grin. He leaned in close and whispered an indelicate suggestion in my ear. I got hard.
I murmured consent back at him, and we headed for his house. The moment we were inside, he slammed me against the wall and kissed me.
You probably won’t be shocked to hear, I kissed back.
Maybe it’s just the straight boy talking, but I was expecting one of us to be in the lead. It wasn’t like that, not just him kissing and me being kissed. We stumbled through his house towards the bedroom pulling off shirts and undoing belts. I needed him and I could tell that he needed me.
Standing next to the bed, he drew me in close, his whole body pressed against mine. Then suddenly he pushed me backwards, and I landed bouncing on the bed. He jumped right on me.
He ran his hands down my body, first kissing my neck, then trailing down my torso with his tongue. I could feel him rubbing my nipples and grabbing handfuls of my solid chest. His left hand moved to my left delt, then slid downward to squeeze on my bicep.
He didn’t fumble at all with my jeans. In a moment, they were on the floor. My cock bounced out of its confines, and swung in the cool air for just a moment before his mouth engulfed it.
I just laid there, gasping on the bed. After a few seconds I realized that my hand was in his hair, guiding him up and down. His tongue darted up and down my shaft, then he’d jumped down my balls, licking and fondling in till suddenly he was back flicking his tongue just under my cock head.
He moved up again, kissing my abdomen. My overstimulated cock brushed against him, and instantly I blew my load all over his chest. I slumped back exhausted.
Aaron grinned, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and went to grab a shower. I lay there in hazy afterglow and waited for him to come back. In a few minutes he was beside me again, and we drifted off to sleep together.
I woke up in the early dawn. Aaron was hard, his thick cock tenting the bed sheets. Without even thinking, I pulled out the sheet and started running my tongue up and down his cock.
He stretched in his sleep, a contented expression crossing his face. I worked him for several minutes, experimenting with how deeply in my throat I could fit him, until I heard him murmur “Oh, that’s a great way to wake up.”
I only responded by sucking harder. Minutes later, I could feel him pulsing and I tasted the unfamiliar taste of cum in my mouth. I swallowed quickly, not wanting to lose a drop.
I crawled up beside him again and put my head on his chest. We laid there like that until the sun slanted over us. We spoke softly, talking about work and family and life. Aaron was really hung up on the idea that I should try modeling, but I think he just wanted to take pictures of me. Eventually, Aaron excused himself for a quick shower.
I stood up and stretched, walking around the room and getting little ideas about his life. You don’t really know a guy until you’ve looked through his bookshelf.
That’s when I caught sight of it. On the back of his bedroom door there was a full-length mirror, and there I was in the mirror standing naked in another man’s bedroom. Just behind me stood the ghost.
James was grinning, and something broke inside me. In the space of half a second, I went from content to pissed off. How dare that bastard manipulate me.
I was angry, and I wasn’t thinking, and maybe I made a mistake, but I gathered my things and I slipped out without saying goodbye.
I closed the door softly so that Aaron wouldn’t hear me over the shower.
Chapter Five – Exorcising Demons
I stormed into the house, slamming the door and making a beeline for the stairs. Before I got halfway across the front room James had already started to make his presence known. The overhead light was flickering on and off, and I could feel a shadowy gloom coalesce in the room. In the kitchen, the telephone started ringing.
I stalked over to the phone and picked it up.
“What have you done?” It was James, and he didn’t sound happy.
I dropped the phone and let it dangle by it’s cord. A fierce wind was starting to whip through the house. All around the front room things were being thrown off of tables and walls. The rage was palpable.
From a staircase I could hear James’s voice booming down. “You’ve ruined it!”
“Ruined what,” I shouted back. “There wasn’t anything there, nothing that you didn’t cause. It was fake, nothing but a fake manipulative lie.”
“You had a chance,” James boomed from around unseen corners. “You had a real shot at being happy and you just threw it away.”
“This was never about me!” I yelled.
“No,” James raged. “This was mine! I’ve been alone for decades. I deserved this. Do you know how hard I worked, do you know how many people I had to go through, before we found something this good?
“Maybe it is all about me, but it’s my turn to be happy!”
A vase flew by my head, missing him by inches. “No, your time be happy was 50 years ago. You missed it, and you don’t just get hijacked my life because you were too afraid.”
The house roared with rage. Plaster flecks fell from the ceiling. Spiderweb cracks started to form in the windows.
“And you know what the bitch of it is,” I shouted. “I really like him. He’s fucking amazing. But because of you, it’s not real, and it’s not mine, and I’m not chasing something this special with you on my back.”
In the kitchen, cups were exploding. I stood in the middle of the front room and watched as James’s ghostly apparition flickered in and out of sight. The ghost’s face was twisted in incoherent anger. I thought he might shake the whole house apart.
Then, without warning, the house became silent except for one sound. There was a soft knocking at the front door. I turned to face it and watched as the door unlocked itself.
Without any interference from me, the door swung open to reveal Aaron standing in the morning light.
* * *
“Hey,” said Aaron. “Mind if I come in?”
“Ah…” I glanced back at my destroyed living room. “Let’s talk on the porch.”
We sat down on the front steps, and Aaron launched right into it. He’d obviously been thinking on the way over.
“Look, last night wasn’t just some one night stand for me. I don’t know if you felt it, but I think we’ve got something special here. I can feel a bond, and I’ve only known you for a couple days.
“I want to see where this goes. I know I’ll regret it if I don’t.”
I wanted to tell him that I felt the exact same way, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him some absurd story about the gay ghost in my house and how I couldn’t tell if I was really falling in love or if that was just some trick.
Instead I said, “I’m sorry Aaron, but I need to focus on me right now.”
“Is it because we moved so fast? Did I rush you?”
“No, nothing like that. You were fantastic, but I’ve got a lot of issues I need to work through on my own.”
I knew it sounded lame, and I could see that it was hurting him, but it was the closest he could get to the truth.
"I get it," he said softly. "I know how hard it can be."
"Yeah," I said. "It's just that… I haven't told anybody. I've never even said to anybody that I'm…"
I feel the full weight of it pressing down on me. It's never scarier than when you say for the first time.
"You can tell me," he said, staring at me with those deep grey eyes.
"I… I'm gay."
It felt so good to say it. I'll never be able to tell you how good it felt.
He didn't say anything. He just hugged me closely and I felt myself melt into him. Funny, I always thought I was the bigger guy.
“Scotty,” he said, “I know you need your time, it’s okay. You got my number, give me a call sometime. If you’re really lucky, I might even be available.” He gave flirty little wink, then stood up and started towards the sidewalk.
I stood up too.
“Aaron, wait.” I called.
You know those times of your life where your brain shuts off and you just follow the moment? This was one of those.
“Fuck my issues. Let’s get breakfast.”
Epilogue
Two years later, on a bright Saturday afternoon, a well-built man in a suit casts a shadow over a neglected grave. He speaks, softly so no one else can hear. Behind him he can hear friends and family laughing, celebrating the day.
If you listen very closely, you’ll be able to hear him saying thank you.
From around the corner of the small church, the mans lover appears. He is tall, broad shouldered, and looks great in a matching suit. He lays his hand on his the man’s shoulder and they both turned away and head back towards the church.
As they walk away, part of the shadow across the grave lingers. It holds onto the grave for a few minutes, until finally, the shadow fades away into the summer sun.
END