Ghost Love Story

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One plus One

Cathenne woke with a ghostly translucent, immobile, badly beaten, naked Mouse floating by the bed. Bedraggled, bruised, with welts over the entire front of her body, and emaciated to the bone; Mouse looked comatose. Cathenne slid out of bed, held Mouse, feeling that she was almost not there. She did not know anything else to do and just held Mouse, feeling Mouse’s deathly cold seeping into her body. She had a feeling that this could kill her, but she could not let go to save her life.

Mouse whispered in a hollow voice, “Thank you. No one had ever held me like that when I needed it. Not when I was alive, not even my mother. Thank you.” Gradually, Mouse’s body looked less battered and bruised, less grey, fuller in the body until Mouse stood naked in her arms. She was indeed very skinny and bony.

Cathenne spoke, “We have to get you warm and dressed, girlfriend, then we talk about what I saw. Come, I will pack you so thoroughly that you will boil.”

Mouse glanced at Cathenne’s feet and sighed, “It took me a month of practice to walk half as well on those boots as you. I could hate you for that. Oh, sorry, no, I do not mean that. Oh, I am so clumsy.”

Cathenne commented, “I was so afraid for you that it sort of happened, and aside, a decade of ballet training from a young age finally paid off.” Glancing down at her feet, Cathenne offered, “I will come across to the dark side, Mouse, and continue wearing these boots when not working. Now let me wrap you in a few layers before we both freeze from your deathly cold.”

Cathenne felt Mouse’s longing but also fear. She was coming to understand Mouse’s insecurity and fragility. Cathenne felt a bit like an older sister. She took Mouse to the wardrobe then chose a few items, wondering if it would work. Can she dress Mouse?

She took out much the same as Mouse had for her, including the same IgniteFire thermal catsuits. As the last item, she chose a chocolate brown all-in-one catsuit with matching ballet toe boots and a tutu.

Still in the latex and layering that Mouse had her wear, she interacted with Mouse as with a live person, except she felt Mouse’s nervous desire. Can ghosts orgasm. Oh, it was her. Twideldidi. They both lay down on the bed, Cathenne panting enough for both. Most unusual.

Mouse, also speaking as if she were breathless, “It was never like that for me. Was, was that a, well, did I?”

Cathenne held the slender Mouse close to her and confirmed, “Yes, it was the best sex I’ve had with a woman.”

A moment and Mouse asked, “I thought you have never been with a woman before?”

Cathenne sat Mouse up and spoke, “True, but I have had some good sex in my life, Mouse. Come, let’s get you dressed, and this time, we will slow down and enjoy the ride. Three more times, they had to rest before Mouse was in the chocolate brown catsuit, with gloves, hood, and matching heelless toe boots.

Before the mirror, Cathenne admitted, “The more I get to know you, Mouse, the more I see that you are uber-hot. Usually, I am not that easily satisfied, but I think that your feeling are sensitizing mine and the feeling is sublime without the stick thing.”

Mouse doubted, “I am as flat as a board, and there is nothing special about me. But, when I see you move and the latex nightgown outlines you here and there, I get all excited. But then my insecurity comes through, and I am afraid that you will leave me or that this is all just my delusions while faceless beats me.”

Cathenne did not know what to say, so she suggested, “I am hungry, and I could do with a coffee. What about you, Mouse?”

Mouse answered, “Oh, I do not eat or drink anything,” but then she looked wide-eyed at Cathenne and confirmed, “Oh, your asking because I can taste what you eat. You are such a thoughtful person Cathenne, thank you. Yes. What would you like?”

Cathenne admitted, “No, compared to you, I am a bitch, girlfriend. But I think in this too, some of your niceness is seeping into me. Perhaps that means that some of my bitch is rubbing off on you?”

Mouse smiled and walked to the kitchen with a bit of sway in her hips, admitting, “That would be nice. I have such a hard time saying no or contradicting anybody. What would you like to eat, Cathenne? I’ll put on the coffee machine while you decide.”

Cathenne answered, “No, you decide and tell me, what would you like me to eat and what you would like me to wear for the evening meal? Your excitement is just glorious.”

Mouse was putting pots on the fire and doing the cooking type of stuff and suggested, “There is a sleeveless red sheath dress that I look ridiculous when I wear, but with your curves, I think you would make the dress look stunning.”

When Cathenne returned wearing the sheath dress over her latex catsuit, Mouse almost dropped the plate. Her curvey silhouette and her overlong legs in toe boots had her look like a goddess of beauty. Mouse saw that Cathenne felt Mouse’s desire, longing, passion, and a lot more. A vision of Mouse by her soide had Mouse by her side.

She felt Mouse’s hand running down her spine, which sent shivers back up her spine. Cathenne felt Mouse’s sexual desire and her want for something Mouse had never had, sex. Cathenne turned around and took Mouse into her arms. They did not need words, both wanting something they could not have. Both sighed at the same time, and both started to say something, but Mouse backed off.

Cathenne kissed the top of Mouse’s smooth latex-covered head and admitted, “I would kiss a girl but only if it was you, girlfriend. No, don’t go back into your emotional shell. Let us enjoy this moment, and then we eat, then we talk.”

Mouse asked, “You do not mind my lusting over your perfect body?”

Cathenne admitted, “What I feel from you is not dominant, predatory, possessive as I felt with, say Havier. Having sex with him was a bit like losing a bit of myself each time. With you, it is a gentle, almost loving sensation, one that seems to give rather than take. I am talking nonsense.”

Mouse rested her head on Cathenne’s shoulder and breathed, “I like you talking nonsense. It is the best sex I have ever had.”

A small fear started creeping in Cathenne, so she distracted with, “I need food, and you know how to cook. Shall we?” Cathenne took Mouse’s hand, and they fetched the groceries from the upstairs kitchen and brought them down to their safe room. Well, Cathenne carried then Mouse cooked.

“Not fair, Mouse. I do all the work of eating, and you get to taste what I eat without any effort,” mock-complained Cathenne, then continued, “On a serious note, why are you stuck here and not where you died. I mean, it is not that I want to get rid of you, but I get that you are losing yourself the longer you are a ghost.”

Mouse confirmed, “Yes, and it frightens me no end of Sundays. I can almost see myself turning into that what appeared beside your bed and haunting this house without remembering who I am and why. But, I am warm, and I feel you as if I have attached wraith-me to you and share your physical being. What I mean, I am inhabiting your body, Cathenne, and this worries me too. Already you like me and my clothing, and everything. I am a danger to you.”

Cathenne protested, “So, you want me to abandon you? Leave you to become a true haunting to show up on one of those crack-pot TV shows about haunted houses? No, too late for that girlfriend. I agree that you are part of me now, but this makes us more, not less.”

Mouse complained, “You are your own person, Cathenne. I see in flashes of memories how you have struggled to be independent, not just an extension of your mother, a failed prima ballerina. I see other moments of your trauma, like having to perform in Swan Lake when you did not want to, forced to dance by your teachers and parents. Then the cheerleading, so glamourous for us mere mortals, but I feel how you resented being that person and the jocks that used you for sex. Now you want to hand yourself over to a ghost who lusts after your body, beauty, warmth, and possibly your life.”

Cathenne thought about it a moment. She looked down at her heelless toe boots, her latex-covered legs, sheath dress, felt the hood over her head with her latex-covered hands, ran her hands down her ponytail, then looked at Mouse.

Cathenne hung her head and affirmed, “It is too late, Mouse. I feel your satisfaction watching me in your latex. I feel your appreciation and perhaps even love, and it fills a place in me that I had not known was empty. Even if I wanted to, I could not leave. It would break something inside.” Mouse was gone. She just disappeared.

Stunned, Cathenne felt empty. No, an emptiness which she had all along was empty again. Yes, Mouse was using a part of her, a complimentary, a disused, an empty part, and she was no longer there.

Recalling all the men, all her conquests, Cathenne’s first at age thirteen, and he was nineteen. A string of boys and men, all to satisfy her sexual hunger, or so she thought, but no. It was all to try and fill an emptiness inside her. Even when she moved away from the family home, none of the men spent the night with her. Some had wanted her to stay, but she did not. Been there, done that, play the game, have a few drinks, fuck, go home, move on; fill the lone time, don’t think.

Even growing up, her parents filled her time with school, ballet, cheerleading, ice skating, and other extracurricular activities, anything to fill the emptiness she inherited from her workaholic parents. Her brothers and sisters were high achievers, but Cathenne had to go against the family and become a manual laborer, a design renovator, competing with her successful siblings. She needed to be the best, the most famous, the greatest of the children. What for? Did a ghost have to come along and make her realize how pitiful her life is?

Cathenne looked down at what she wore. Without Mouse, it was not as exciting, not as powerful, not as comforting. In just a day, Mouse filled the gaps Cathenne never realized she had, and now it felt so empty, so lonely.

“I am so sorry, Cathenne, I am sorry. I can feel your pain. What have I done to you,” and Mouse was sitting next to Cathenne, cradling her head, wiping away her tears. Cathenne sobbed, “I am the ghost, Mouse, leading a meaningless and empty life. In just one day, you utterly destroyed my house of sticks. I am the pathetic person here, and you would do well to inhabit this empty shell. Ouch,” exclaimed Cathenne!

Mouse apologized, “Oh, sorry, sorry, but, but, no. Don’t do that, Cathenne. With my self-doubt adding to yours, we will spiral each other into a deep depression. Yes, you are stunningly beautiful, have glowing green eyes, fire-red hair, long slender legs, very kissable lips, a waist to die for, look like a goddess in that outfit, but who cares, right?”

Cathenne gazed into Mouse’s wide brown innocent eyes and had to laugh but then became serious and asked, “Kissable? I always thought them too Kardashian.”

Mouse ran her latex-covered fingers over Cathenne’s lips and revealed, “You may think your life empty, but consider. I would die happy with just one kiss from you, well die again, that is.”

Cathenne drew Mouse to her side, sighed, and mused, “Perhaps a ghost and an empty shell can make a whole person. But promise me that you will never leave me again!”

Mouse argued, “Well, I will have to if you go shopping. Anytime I try and leave the grounds, I end up floating by my bed, naked like this morning. It is ever so frustrating, and I only heal when I dress back into my latex or when you hold me, as I found out this morning.”

Cathenne decided, “Alright, girlfriend, we need to solve this ghost limitation and everything. Neither of us knows what’s going on. Are you alright to tell me how you, ahh?”

“Died, you mean, Cathenne? Yes, of course.”

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