The Ghost of Molly Maguire
Published by: eXtasy Books
Author : P.M.J. Downing
Word Count :17750
Publication Date :2011-06-19
Series : #
Heat Level :
- Product Code: 978-1-55487-051-6
Tracy Wilkins is in Cornwall researching women pirates for a thesis. Her stay at a wonderful, old inn leads to an unexpected invasion by a ghost. Sidetracked, Tracy learns how lonely the ethereal lady is as the charming captain of long ago reveals the story of her dangerous life and the enticing rendezvous that led to her demise. The friendly ghost of Molly Maguire, a pirate captain of the seventeen hundreds, longs for some excitement. She investigates her new companion and finds the lass quite an unexpected pleasure. The question is, can she charm her new roommate into enticing some leisure entertainment of another sort to join them?
Gently her fingers caressed the sensitive bud and her excitement increased. Her movements became faster as her pleasure mounted. “Oh my, oh my, this feels so good,” she groaned. “Who needs a man when a girl’s own fingers can give her so much pleasure?”
Yes indeed, Madam, said a strange voice in her head.
In her excitement, she chose to ignore it. “Oh God, I am going to cum,” she wailed, knowing exactly where to massage her clitoris to obtain the maximum feeling from her masturbation. “Yes—yes,” she panted. “I’m cumming right—now—Ooooh,” she wailed. Water slopped unheeded over the edge of the bath as her hand moved rapidly over her pussy and her body contorted in the throes of an orgasm. She did not care. Her whole being was concentrated on the flood of feeling that buzzed through her body.
Then she was over her peak and her movements stilled as her feelings slid slowly into a warm relaxation. The water, now quite cold, stopped slopping about the bath and stilled. “Mmmm, that was so good,” she said sleepily.
Tracy enjoyed the sound of her own voice when she was sexually aroused and this occasion was no exception. That someone might overhear her masturbating and in the process of an orgasm, did not concern her.
She stepped out of the now quite cold water, wiped the condensation from the bathroom mirror and took a moment to admire her body. She loved the way her body curved down across a finely sculpted rib cage to a narrow waist. That her tummy was flat and muscular made her thankful for her strict regime of exercise three times per week. She carried no spare weight as her tummy sloped smoothly into a neat V covered with fine and neatly trimmed hair between her well-shaped thighs. She turned to look over her shoulders at her back, slim and straight, that led to a delightfully firm and rounded, almost boyish, bottom.
Tracy was proud of her figure and enjoyed the glances of men when they watched her walking along the street, her breasts bouncing gently, drawing their lustful and admiring looks. She could also feel their gaze on her neat bottom tightly encased in Levi’s that were two sizes to small for her so they clung to her derrière like a second skin. She enjoyed the power her figure had over men. She shivered as she stood and reached for her towel, threw it over her head and started to dry her hair.
“Ye Gads, Madam, but you have a fine pair of teats,” a strange voice said.
“What the fuck?” she cried, peeping out from beneath the towel and looking about the small bathroom. She could see nothing out of place and shrugged. I must be imagining voices, she thought, I have been working to hard, yes, that is what it is, I have definitely been working to hard.