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I finally put her on her knees and I rip off her blouse. I tit fuck. I start slow but then I go fast, making her tits bounce a bit. After twenty minutes, milk spurts out of her tits and all over me. I lick it all up. You thirsty? she smiles. I flip her over and start at her asshole, I dont waste time, I go hard. She screams as if someone stabbed her. I keep going and I notice shes beginning to cry. I go even harder, I dont even give a fuck about my wife or my job anymore. I finally drop her to. And she was so damn sexy. The fact that we were both tattoo artists and both covered in tattoos, fascinated me. Unlike myself, she had supple tits, just enough but not too much, probably a small B cup at the most. She was drunk beyond belief, and I knew I could get away with anything if I wanted to. When we returned home, I helped her up the steps to our third-floor penthouse. She stumbled in the door and I followed not far behind, locking the door behind me. I stripped out of my shirt, because. ‘Why, Why, WHYYYYYY?’ I was sobbing so hard, I didn’t hear the person behind me. A hand touched my shoulder. I turned to see Jonathan. Everything went black. I woke with my head lying in his lap along the roadside. He stroked my hair and smiled at me. ‘Jonathan?’ ‘Yes Angela.’ ‘How can this be?’ ‘Shhhh, it’s ok baby.’ ‘No please, Jonathan, this can’t be. You’re dead!’ ‘Tonight is the night that ghosts come out baby.’ ‘You’re a ghost?’ ‘Yes, every since I died here last year my spirit has. He kissed his way down her lower stomach, just to where her bikini line would start if she had one. He kissed the right side of her torso, never touching where she desperately needed to be touched. Biting on her inner thigh, he pacified the bitten skin with a slew of butterfly kisses when she cried out in pleasure. Ellie grabbed his head and pulled him up to look her in the eyes. “Are you sure about this? I mean, once this happens, we can’t take it back.” To answer her, he leaned in and zeroed.
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