Chapter 74

Sam stared at the space where a moment ago Evie had stood. Was she still there, staring back at him? Probably. More importantly, had she really said she wanted him to have sex with her?
He didn't think that would be a hardship. His raging hard-on was shouting for joy.
Tomorrow, she'd said, she'd have a little longer. He glanced at his watch. 12:06. She'd been here for just under six minutes.
Last night he'd seen her vanish at about 12:03.
Did that mean her time doubled every night until Halloween? Sam wasn't a math whiz - being an art major, he hadn't had to be - but he figured that meant by Halloween she'd have the whole day, or most of it anyway. Ten or twelve hours the day before. Yeah, he could do a lot in that amount of time to teach her about the joys of sex. Tomorrow, though, with just eleven to twelve minutes, he wouldn't be able to do much but talk. He carried his popcorn and beer into the bedroom, flopped down on top of the covers and grabbed the sketch pad and pencil he always kept by his bed. He wasn't much of a portraitist, but he wanted to capture the lines of Evie's face as best he could.
At the bottom of the page, he began to write down questions he wanted to ask her for tomorrow night. The first was if he'd been right about her time doubling each night. The second was if she was solid enough for physical contact. At least he knew now why she'd only ever appeared to single men who weren't related to her. His ghost had a sense of ethics - even if she was a bit of a voyeur.
Come to think of it, was she still watching him now?
The idea had him harder than the lead in his pencil. And it gave him a wicked idea.
He set down the sketchbook and finished off his beer then wandered into the adjacent bathroom to clean up before bed. When he emerged, he was naked and still hard. He carried a bottle of hand lotion. Whistling to himself, he pulled back the covers on his bed, revealing his new, top quality ivory cotton sheets. He propped several pillows against the headboard of his antique sleigh bed and settled back against them, his erect cock jutting up into the air.
"Are you still watching me, Evie?" The idea that she was made his dick pulse and a small drop of pre-come bead at the tip. "Have you ever even seen a man naked before?"
He chuckled as he squirted lotion into his hand then rubbed his hands together to warm it up. "Most especially, have you ever seen an aroused man? You're a beautiful woman. It's a damn shame no man was ever lucky enough to make love to you before you died."
Okay, thinking of her as dead did a little to soften his erection. Instead he closed his eyes and pictured her while he mentally stripped off all her clothing, piece by piece.
That did the trick. He rubbed the lotion onto the skin of his aching cock and closed the fingers of his right hand around his shaft while his left cradled his balls.
"Are you there, Evie? Can you see what you do to me? How much I want you? Are you imagining what it will feel like to have my cock buried inside you? I know I'm thinking about your snug little pussy, all wet and hot, wrapped around me like a glove."
He kept up the monologue as he brought himself to climax. At the moment he came, he shouted her name as he spilled thick, hot semen all over his stomach and chest.
Soon he'd go take a shower, but for just a moment he lay back against the pillows to catch his breath. "That's what you're asking for, Evie. Sex isn't sweet and romantic, it's hot, sweaty and messy, but oh so much fun. Be very sure it's what you truly want."
Evie couldn't really feel anything while she was in her limbo state - she could see, hear, even smell, but she had no sense of hot or cold, no ability to feel texture or pain. So why did she imagine she could sense her body tingle as she watched Sam masturbate?
Back in her real life, she'd never have even dared think about that word. Of course she'd never use any of the ones Sam had said as he talked to her in that hoarse voice. Pussy, cock, dick, cunt, come...she'd heard them all over the last ninety-odd years - sometimes when she watched television over the shoulders of her unwitting housemates, sometimes if they'd yelled them out loudly enough to be heard in another room. One thing she'd never done was act the voyeur - not before tonight. And that was only because she'd heard Sam calling her, asking if she'd seen him unclothed.
She hadn't, but she would certainly never forget that glorious sight now that she had. An aroused Sam Holiday was the single most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Watching him bring himself to satisfaction had been both educational and achingly arousing. Even though she knew her response was all in her consciousness since she didn't have a body at the moment, she could practically feel wetness between her legs and her breasts swelling.
He was willing to help her. Sometime over the next ten days, she was finally going to experience sex - and with Sam, she had every confidence it was going to be magnificent.
And then she'd be gone - her business on Earth finished, it would be time for her to move on. After she'd longed for it all these years, why now did it make her feel like crying?