She gripped my shoulders and her hands didn’t go through me.
“Oh my God, Evan, I can touch you. How are you doing that? Never mind. I don’t care.” She latched onto the back of my neck and pulled my head down. I had to put all my energy and focus into what was going on when really my dick was screaming for attention.
I must have mumbled shut up out loud because Sammi bit my bottom lip. “Don’t tell me to shut up. You shut up and kiss me.”
I managed to get in a couple solid swipes of tongue and an ass grab before she fell through my body and landed on the floor.
“You did that on purpose!” Sammi rolled over onto her back and glared at me. The fire in her eyes stoked the fire in my loins. My dick wanted out of my pants and into my girlfriend.
“I didn’t do it on purpose. I’m new at this ghost crap.”
“You could make eggs no problem, but you can’t even kiss me?”
Sammi had two modes, angry mode and tears mode, when it came to our fights. Angry mode was always the preferable of the two because it meant the sex was awesome. When we reached tears, sex was off the table. I needed to face the facts, I was just getting used to this ghosting business. There was a distinct possibility that I might not be able to follow through on sex, but damn, if I wasn’t going to at least try.
“I think it’s because you’re touching me. It makes it hard to focus. If you just let me touch you, it might work better. Can you let me try something?” I dropped to my knees in front of her.
“Fine, but you better not go through my body again.”
“I’ll try not to.” It was the best I could offer. There was a solid chance my less than solid body would go through hers again, but I would try my damnedest not to. I reached out and imagined cupping her boob. My palm curved around the swell without sinking right into her chest. “Fuck yeah,” I muttered.
She gave me a look.
“What? Isn’t this awesome?”
“Of course, you’d go for my boob first.”
“Well yeah, it’s always the starting point.”
God, I loved her boobs. Almost as much as her pussy. Plus, there were two of them, one to fill each hand.
“Hello, ladies,” I said to her boobs and then cupped them gently. With my attention fully occupied, I brushed my thumbs over her nipples and was rewarded with a soft gasp.
“You felt that?”
“Yeah, please do it again,” Sammi asked.
If I wasn’t semi-transparent, her hands would be in my hair, yanking on it. But I didn’t trust that I’d be able to keep my focus if she was touching me when I was touching her, so this was how it had to be.
She propped herself on her hands and leaned back into them, jutting her chest out. I moved in and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth. She moaned again, loudly. Once again, I was grateful that all of our neighbors were old and had terrible hearing, and that the air-conditioners sounded like jet planes landing in this building.
But when she pulled her signature move, gripped my hair and arched into my mouth, my face went through her body and I was suddenly looking at her hands on the floor behind her. I reared back, overcorrecting and slid backwards on the floor, my ass halfway into Ms. Pontoon’s living room before I pulled myself back up to sit on the floor. “You can’t do that!”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“You can’t touch me while I’m touching you. I need to fucking focus on your tits and you ripping my hair out by the roots is distracting.”
“I was excited!”
“Just keep your damn hands to yourself. You know what? Take your pants off and lie down.”
“Why should I if you’re just going to keep yelling at me?”
“Because I’m going to try to give you an orgasm, that’s why,” I snapped back.
“Fine!” Sammi huffed and pulled her pants and underwear down. She tossed them through me and gave me her snooty face, but did what I asked and lay down on the floor. I suppose she could’ve relocated to the couch, but we were here and I was determined to try to do this.
She spread her legs wide and exposed her pussy. She had a little tuft of hair at the top of her mound. I loved to pull on it when she yanked on my hair, just to piss her off. I would try that later. I slid back across the floor and knelt between her open thighs. Her clit peeked out at me from between her not-face lips.
I brushed over it with my fingertip and Sammi sighed.
“You should tuck your hands under your butt so you don’t try to touch me again.” I brushed over her lady bean again.
She grumbled, but complied.
I kept flicking her bean, doing the things she liked that got her all hot and excited. Sammi’s hips started moving and her moans got louder and shriller. A dog howled from somewhere outside.
I tried the move where I slid two fingers inside and did the pumpity-pump while rubbing her orgasm button with my palm. Unfortunately, I couldn’t account for all her flailing, so half the time my palm would go right through her pussy. My hand was probably in her uterus about fifty percent of the time.
“This is not deep enough! Go harder!” Sammi half-shouted.
Normally, this would be the point where she’d be grabbing onto my shoulders, biting them—she did that a lot—while she told me that I better make her come or she would never blow me again and I would tell her if she kept it up I was going to go anal on her with no lube. I would never actually do that. Anal always required lube, but that would often be enough to push her over the edge.
But all the hip thrusts and my not really being used to my ghost body made it impossible. It was ridiculously frustrating. I’d been making Sammi come on pretty much a daily basis for the past two years. It was damn well muscle memory and I wanted to make it happen.
Because I had no idea if I would ever be able to make it happen again.
Which was when I realized if I couldn’t make her come I would never be able to have sex with her again. I unbuckled my pants and my erection sprang free. I gripped it in my fist. It felt real and usable. I removed my fingers, and Sammi’s head, which had been thrown back in frustration while she fought for an orgasm that was just out of reach, suddenly snapped up.
I slapped her clit with my dick and almost did a touchdown dance when it didn’t go right through her.
“Oh my God, get Thor in me.”
Sammi always refered to my penis as though it was one of the Marvel superheroes. I liked Thor, so I didn’t mind.
“You have to stay still,” I reminded her.
“Okay, okay, I can do that.” She splayed her legs out in a rigid V and balled her hands into fists.
I managed to line things up, imagining how warm and wet and tight it would be. I tried to keep my focus, but even with Sammi not touching me it was a lot of pressure. I was just about to try to get inside her without going through her when Sammi’s phone rang.
Snapping my attention to the electronic device sent me to her purse. My giant hard-on pointed at the noise the ringtone was making like a hunting dog that had found its target.
I looked over my shoulder to see my girlfriend’s eyes narrow and her legs go limp. “Really?”
I looked down at my dick and said the same thing to him. He still pointed at Sammi’s purse like it was his most important job ever.