A Christmas Carol Revisited Ch. 03


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To the editors: The story below contains italic and bold formatting – sometimes both together – which should be preserved within the completed story. I have highlighted the affected words, phrases and symbols in red to make them easier to find. A series of five centered asterisks seperates the story into “sections”, and this division should also be preserved. There is also one “sentence” where five bolded and italicized periods are used to indicate silence. This is not an error.

This story is part of a series,; therefore, all the episodes should remain in the same category – “Erotic Couplings”.

Thank you.

A Christmas Carol Revisited – Stave Three

The Last of the Three Spirits

I awoke, shivering beneath the comforter. What the hell? Had the heat gone off? I could see my breath, for God’s sake! I wrapped the comforter around myself in a vain attempt to retain some heat and moved to where the nightlight cast its firefly light on the thermostat. It said 72 – hardly a hothouse, but not numbingly cold, either. I thumped it carefully, but the needle remained obstinately pointed at 72.

Still shivering, I groped my way to the laundry basket, pawing through to find the cleanest of my sweats. Absorbed in this task, I failed to see a piece of the darkness deliberately rise until I heard the sound of my name.

“Nicholas.” It was a sepulchral, cold, whisper-of-the-grave voice, and I whirled.

It stood less than three feet away, robed and hooded. The garments that enveloped it were black, but the vacancy where the face should have been was blacker still, as if it possessed the power to absorb all light. The shrouded form seemed to radiate fear as a palpable emanation, and I could sense that this was the source of the terrible cold.

Fortunately, I was pissed.

“Only my mother calls me Nicholas.” I said, my voice a fair approximation of the Spirit’s own icy tones, but with an edge of anger behind it.

The thing stood impassively. With no visible face, it didn’t have a whole lot in the way of options.

I tried another tack. “Look it’s been a rough night. I’ve been put through an emotional wringer – twice – and screwed into the ground by two horny ghosts with unlimited stamina.”

. . . . .

No response. Tough crowd.

I sighed. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

The apparition spoke. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.”

That was it. We went back to the staring game.

Guess who cracked first.

“Let me guess. You’re going to show me scenes from my future?”

“That is so.”

“Then if you don’t mind, let’s get on with it.”

The Spirit lifted an arm. There was enough material in the sleeve of its robe to make a fair-sized dress.

It also made a rather effective movie screen.

Item: My graduation. I walked the last mile, received my diploma, went back to my seat.

Fast-forward to the end of the ceremony. With a graduating class of over a thousand, not one person stopped to congratulate me or wish me well.

Item: I boarded a bus to the town where I’d be beginning a new job. No one was there to see me off.

Item: A succession of messy breakups, each more gut-wrenching than the last. The last girl tells me as she tearfully returns my ring, “I love you more than I can say, but I can’t compete with a ghost.”

Item: A dingy apartment, lonely, unrelieved by companionship. The furnishings change like an old-fashioned nickolodeon show, becoming more expensive, more tailored to my own tastes – but the wealth is hollow and the luxuries provide no comfort.

Item: A townhouse. A dark something bursa escort dangles from a stair railing.

We froze on that scene for a long minute.

Item: A funeral with a decided lack of mourners – perhaps a dozen, all told. As the last four file out, a woman speaks.

“He never seemed to have any interest in people. I used to try to get him to go out with the rest of the office, but he always refused.”

A man: “I don’t think anyone knew him, not really knew him. He always seemed to be pushing people away, keeping them at a distance.” A pause. “Well, perhaps he’s found peace.”

“I hope so,” another woman says. “I was angry with him for years, but I never would have wished this on him.” The scarf she wore bound around her head slipped then, and before she could put it to rights, I caught a second’s glimpse of her face. “Wherever you are, Nick, I hope you know that I forgave you long ago.” Her voice cracks, just for a second. “Sleep in peace, my love….”


* * * * *

Did I faint, or did my mind blank out what was too much to bear? I don’t know. I only know that when I came to, the Spirit was kneeling by my side, its hood thrown back, no longer faceless. It was a woman with short blonde hair and blue eyes and a gentle smile.

“Now you know.”

My face was wet. “She forgave me.”

“Yes, and she loved you and loves you.

Your time with Sarah is done, Nick – that much I can tell you. Today she’s very angry at you, but in years to come she will think of you fondly, and cherish the memories of all you shared.”

“Will she be happy again?.” I asked in a broken voice.

“In time, yes; and she will hope that you are happy, too.”

She turned her blue eyes on mine, locking my gaze. “Will you be happy, Nick? Will you choose to live your life, to fulfill your life? Or will you choose to let your mistake continue to poison your life, to die a little each day until the fate you foresaw is but a confirmation of what has already happened? The choice lies in your hands, and yours alone.”

Her eyes were compelling; I couldn’t look away.

My mind whirled like a child’s top, reviewing all I’d seen, all I’d learned. Past, present, future flickered before my mind’s eye, but one thought continued to reverberate through my mind, over and over.

She forgave me; she still loves me.

Wouldn’t the future life I had seen mock that forgiveness, that love? We were done in this life, the Spirit had said. Didn’t that imply other lives, other chances? Wouldn’t death by my own hand drive me farther from another chance, not nearer? Looking into the Spirit’s eyes, I felt that it must be so.

And what of my lesser loves – Karen, Mel, Marsha, perhaps more to come? Were their affections of no account because they weren’t, could never be Sarah? I began dimly to see how hurtful my detachment must have been to them, as if they were whores, not friends; yet they’d stuck with me because they believed I deserved a second chance.

My sight was still misty, but my voice was firm when I told the Spirit, “I choose life.”

The words brought an immediate alteration in the Spirit’s aspect. It seemed to shrink in upon itself, and its voice was now younger, vivacious, bubbly, full of the joy of living.

“Cool.” A genuine smile spread over the Spirit’s face. “Let’s party!”

She dropped the black robes and the terrible cold vanished utterly. She was stark naked beneath, with big breasts, a soft rounded ass and a shaved pussy, She seemed to radiate heat as she stepped into my arms and pulled my face down for a fiercely passionate bursa escort bayan kiss.

I dropped the comforter to pull her close – okay, make that three horny ghosts with unlimited stamina! – whereupon I tripped and fell on my ass. She giggled throatily and jumped on top of me. The giggle became a full-throated laugh, which made for an interesting jiggle factor; this ghost was more – errr, top-heavy – than the previous ghosts had been, and her laugh set off all sorts of interesting gyrations on her upper torso. It was making me a bit dizzy, so I grabbed one of her tits and squeezed while my lips found the nipple of the other and sucked. Her smile grew broader and she ground happily against me. She leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“Guess what?,” she said with a naughty grin.


“I’m going to suck that hard cock until you’re crazy to fuck me – and then I want you to fuck my round little ass.” She squeezed my cock as she spoke, stroking from my balls to the head. I groaned as she licked down my chest… my stomach… until her lips were kissing my balls. She lay there grinning for a second – then her tongue snaked out and flicked against my asshole. I jerked as she licked her way from the perineum to my balls – slowing to lick and suck them thoroughly – then to the base of my rigid dick. She drew her tongue slowly, torturously up the underside, stroking my balls with her soft fingers. Her tongue swirled lazily around the head… she took it into her mouth and sucked gently for a moment… then she took me to the hilt, my cock fully engulfed in her wet mouth, the head sliding into her throat. She held me there, proud of her skills and sucked and swallowed me simultaneously, that naughty smile shining in her eyes.

For my part, I was in heaven, or its earthly equivalent. It wasn’t alone the exquisite sensations she teased from me, nor her undoubted skill, but also the enthusiasm and enjoyment she displayed in giving me pleasure. No duty suck here – she was driving me mad with pleasure because she liked it. You could tell from the look in her eyes that she was really getting into it.

And it looked as if I would soon be getting into something, too, for she released me from her mouth with an audible pop, then rummaged through her discarded robe for something. Finding it, she tossed it to me with a grin.

It was a tube of lube.

“Lube me up, big boy!,” she said. “I haven’t been assfucked in two hundred years, and I want to make up for lost time!”

With that, she turned her back to me and spread her cheeks wide apart. She yelped a little at the cold touch of the lube, but then remained still while I worked a finger into her tight little ass. When her grip had eased somewhat, I added more lube – and another finger. I spread the cold slippery stuff inside her tight ass, everywhere I could reach. When she began bucking her ass back to meet my fingers, I judged her to be ready.

And I was correct. The instant my fingers slipped out of her, she turned to look over her shoulder at me.

“Shove that hard dick into my pussy now. Get it all nice and wet, and then fuck my tight little ass!”

I needed no further encouragement. I steadied myself with my hand on her hips, then thrust home, sheathing my cock deep within her clutching pussy. She groaned as I filled her, then began to move back and forth.

“Oh yeah, (gasp) that’s it. Fuck me hard, Nick! Stretch my pussy! (pant) Oh yeah, that dick feels good!” With my full length impaling her, she ground back into me. “Oh, fuck… you like that tight pussy, Nick? You like fucking that tight little hole?” I nodded, unable to speak. “Mmmmm, I love that thick hard cock… escort bursa you’ve got me soooo fucking wet… I want you in my ass, baby. Grab my hips and shove that fat cock right up my ass… I want it all! Oh Nick, please… take my ass, lover… take it!”

I pulled out of her wet clinging pussy and slammed deep into her ass with barely a pause in between. She screamed and fucked back into me hard.

“Oh, yeah… ohhhh, fuck! Oh baby, I need this so bad… take my pretty ass, Nick… make it yours! Ohhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh… oh yeah, that’s it… fuck it hard… stretch it out, make it hurt! I want it, lover – I need that thick cock in my ass – deep in my ass… oh, fuck me, Nick! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck my ass!”

I threw caution to the winds and let her have everything I had, pounding into her hard, mercilessly. She took it all and begged for more, moaning, screaming, squealing – impaling her tight little ass on my dick over and over and over.

“Oh Nick… oh baby, I’m gonna cum… cum with me, lover… Shoot your hot load right up my hot ass… I want it. I want to feel you fill my ass with your hot cum…. Fuck, I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum…. Cum with me, Nick… give it to me… fuck… let me have it… oooaaahhhhhh!”

I don’t know if it was her scream or the spasmodic clutch of her ass that set me off, but I came then, gushing my juices into her ass like a flash flood. She screamed and fucked back into me, again and again, taking everything I had to give, milking my dick with quick convulsive squeezes….

We disconnected after a minute and she threw herself into my arms, ground her hot body into mine and tried to suck my soul out through my mouth.

As I drifted off, I seemed to hear:

“Embrace the future, Nick. Embrace it with faith and hope and enthusiasm and love – and never look back.”

I slept.

* * * * *

I woke to the sun streaming in through the blinds. The bedclothes were a mess, twisted and tangled like discarded mummy wrappings. I just about broke my neck trying to get out of bed.

The visits of the spirits were still vivid in my memory. Did it really happen, or was it just a series of dreams…?

Did it really matter? Dreams or not, the things the Spirits had shown me had the force of truth.

Standing alone in the first rays of Christmas Day, I spoke aloud.

“Sarah,” I said. “I love you. I will always love you. I’ll never forget you, and I’ll always cherish the time we had together.

But our time is done, and we both have to move forward. I hope and pray with all my heart that your life will be as happy” – and my voice broke – “as the time we might have shared together.

Please be happy, Sarah.” The tears were running freely now. “I love you.

Goodbye, my love.”

* * * * *

An hour later, I stepped out of the shower and threw on a terrycloth robe, wrapped my hair in a towel and stepped into the bedroom.

There were three of them this time, dressed in identical silvery-gray hooded robes, their heads bowed as if to hide their faces. Then –

“Merry Christmas!”

The robes were hurled aside and there they were – my lovely Sigma Eps girls! – dressed in “bikinis” made of inch-wide ribbon – gold for Melanie, deep green for Karen, deep red for Marsha. A single strip of ribbon bisected their breasts, just sufficient to conceal their nipples and not much else, and tied in the center with a large bow. A second strip encircled their waists, went down to loop around each thigh and came back up in back to be tied in another bow just above their asses. The effect was to frame rather than conceal their pussies, and for a moment I could only gawk.

Then Karen spoke. “Well?,” she purred. “Aren’t you going to unwrap your presents?”

And then – they pounced.

Merry Christmas to all,

And to all a good night!

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