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By Captain Tom (Address withheld)

Being of the male species, I'm rather skeptical about palm readers and the such, but sometimes it's more politic to keep ones opinions to ones self as I did that evening...
After dinner the clamor for a seance renewed, and of course in the end--after the usual mutterings from the Colonel about "poppycock" and "much better to have a good round of whist"--it was decided.
Accordingly, we cleared the drawing room and set the large table in the center, covered with a cloth of heavy purple velvet, which Lady Elma produced "to propitiate the spirits." Indeed, the ladies had a great flutter about doing it all properly--sitting around the table, holding hands, with our feet placed on the top of our neighbors' (or underneath, as the case might be) so as to detect any trace of at-tempted mortal meddling. For, as Lady Elma most properly pointed out, "There was no point to doing it at all unless you were prepared to do it seriously!"
At last we were settled, fairly widely spaced at the table, our legs and arms stretched out to our neighbors, with the candles doused and the curtains tightly drawn. For a few moments there were titters as people adjusted themselves---"I say, Harry, don't stamp so on my toes!"--But at last silence fell, a heavy, expectant silence undisturbed even by the winds outside.
In such an atmosphere, it is difficult to mark the passing of time, so it is nearly impossible for me to say how long we waited thus, and I suppose I had fallen into a sort of reverie (helped along by the wine), when all of a sudden I became aware of a touch against my leg. I held my breath--for in my near-trance I was almost prepared for it to be a ghost--and for a moment nothing happened. Then it came again--a gentle touch, as of a hand beginning a tentative caress upon my thigh. It continued--it was unmistakable--someone or something was stroking my thigh, and indeed if one could judge from appearances its intentions were far from innocent, for it slowly proceeded towards my crotch and at last began lightly stroking the fabric against my private parts.
For the moment I was stunned--still really unsure of the reality of what was happening, so suddenly had it begun, and also increasingly aware of the pleasure stealing over me from the touch. I was, furthermore, becoming aware that I must above all keep still, for my neighbors would of course detect the slightest motion of my limbs, and after the incident of the night before I was determined not to be thought the culprit again.
But scarcely had I time to caution myself thus then my self-control was put to the test, for I became aware of a hand unbuttoning my trousers, and then suddenly warm, soft fingers were reaching in, grasping my member, and drawing it, stiffening, forth. The quick touch nearly made me gasp--I caught myself in time, and deliberately set my-self to relax my limbs lest they betray me.
By now I was far too engrossed in the possibilities which awaited to wonder--or care--what or who could possibly be touching me thus: fingers were holding me gently, and at last the unmistakable warmth and wetness of a tongue touched the eager, the trembling, the exquisitely sensitive tip of my cock. I shut my eyes against the darkness, trying to imagine what was happening--lips, tongue, flashing teeth, my rod slowly entering the welcome cavity--but suddenly the touch was withdrawn. My cock launched itself helplessly out into the blackness, into the air, feeling itself abruptly deserted--I held my breath once more in an agony of hope, and at last! I was rewarded by the delicious sensation once again of a tongue's caress.
It continued--it slowly welcomed more and more of my desperately aroused flesh into the soft friction. I yearned to thrust still further inward; the slow suspense was tantalizing torture, the more so because I knew I MUST NOT move, and the degrees by which the lips-- those glorious lips!--made their soft and lubricious progress first onward and then withdrawing backward along what felt like a yard of acutely tingling penis, were nearly unbearable. A centimeter forwards, an inch of bliss as my whole body nearly shuddered with the deliberateness of it--then an inch back--an inch of combined pleasure and tension, with always the fear that the touch would disappear as it had come.
I could feel the tongue as well, moving against the underside of my rod in slow circles as the lips worked slowly upwards, till at last! I was fully enclosed, so firmly and warmly held that I could al-most imagine myself engulfed in the wet haven of a woman's sex.
By that time my heart was pounding, and my breathing was in grave danger of becoming audible--I was thus almost grateful for the pause as this ethereal lover ceased to move and held me, pulsing in every limb, but especially in that which was so wonderfully embedded in the ghostly mouth.
All was still silent in the room, and I realized that I had no idea at all how much time had passed--perhaps the others would soon become restless and--awful thought!--break up our circle before this mystery had had its way with me! Whatever it was, it seemed to have had the same thought, for in a moment I felt it slowly begin again, this time with a stronger rhythm and a firmness of touch which made me wonder whether the experience might not be over all too soon.
And now, too, a new sensation was added: that of soft hands once more touching me, this time sliding over my now slick sex while those gentle, gentle lips still sucked and licked at its very tip. I felt a dangerous pleasure beginning to mount as the rhythm went to my head--my whole body was concentrated in this one member, consumed with the mesmerizing sensations of my penis, sliding, sliding effortlessly within that smooth grasp, until in my mind's eye I could nearly see the woman kneeling between my legs, the penis disappearing deep into her mouth and emerging, sliding past her lips and their pressure, her tongue and its exquisite friction, while her hands cradled my balls and added an almost distractingly delicate tickling to the already overwhelming pleasure.
Then I imagined her beneath me, lying open before me as I entered her again and again, each time feeling her outer lips grasp me and then her wet, warm sex give way before my thrust, her hips moving around the root of my rod and sending pleasure through my belly and bones as I sought to bury my entire length--nay my entire body-- within her.
The fantasy was so complete that at last I felt the imperative sperm surge up within me--I was in the grasp of a rhythm too strong to resist, and with an uncontrollable shudder I felt myself spurt forth the pent-up desires and liquids of a month's abstinence.
I think I gasped--I must have quivered--but as the force of my orgasm died away and I came to myself I recollected what had indeed been forgotten in the preceding ecstasy--that I was surrounded by people.
Had anyone detected my agitation? All was silent in the dark-ness--I waited in an agony of suspense as the silence drew itself out into what seemed like hours, and then--"I say, have we got to sit here very much longer?" came the cheerful voice of Harry Vane. "Yes--I say --it's deuced dark." "And my foot's gone to sleep!" chimed in Miss Pearson and Freddy Postlethwaite. A snore from my left announced that the Colonel was oblivious. The lights came up--Lady Elma, standing match in hand by the candelabra, asked cheerfully, "Has anyone detected a ghost?"
Various voices responded in the negative--I was seized by a sudden fear lest my trousers (as absurd though this is!) be unbuttoned--I contrived to examine them, and found them secure! What had happened? An ingenious ghost--a cautious ghost! Ah--a voluptuous ghost! I looked up and caught Lady Elma's smile as she looked at me, archly, and a sudden suspicion crossed my mind--
Was that a trace of moisture on her lovely lips? Or merely lamplight . . .