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Banner by Edgehead


Buffy set to work immediately.

She opened all the windows on the first floor. The musty smell of decay was powerful and pungent in the house. The place had been closed up for 25 years so it was bound to be pretty bad. With that done, she went through the living room, looking under the sheets that covered the furniture. All of it was beautiful and it only needed to be cleaned and some of it re-upholstered. Buffy wondered why all of this had been left behind by the original owners. There seemed to have been an attempt at removing things from the house (there were some boxes piled with books and knick-knacks sitting on the floor), but most everything still seemed to be in place. Probably just as it had been when the house was abandoned. Thick layers of dust covered everything.

A big, ornate mirror hung above the marble fireplace. Buffy was polishing it. She knew that there were more immediate tasks that needed to be done, but the mirror was so pretty, she wanted to clean it up. After a lot of scrubbing and polishing, it was clean.

Buffy stood back and brushed some hair away from her damp forehead. She smiled at her reflection. She gasped when she saw a man standing a few feet behind her and spun around. No one was there. Buffy turned back to the mirror quickly but only saw herself. Her heart was beating thunderously. She put her hand over her chest and laughed at her own overactive imagination.

“Whoa, there I go again.” She looked back into the mirror. “I could have sworn...” She shook her head and went back to cleaning.

The man had seemed familiar somehow. Buffy had only caught a glimpse of him, but something was definitely familiar. She dispelled the wacky thoughts and concentrated on dusting.





Spike watched her as she cleaned in the living room. She was adorable and so petite; he wanted to scoop her up in his arms, if only he could.

The longer he watched her, the more that feeling he should be remembering something associated with her nagged at him.

‘What could it be? I couldn’t have seen her before...could I?’ Spike thought.

Then it came to him. He hadn’t seen her in person, but in dreams. Dreams that he’d had since he was a boy. In them, the pretty blonde girl would smile at him and hold his hand. As he got older, the dreams became increasingly more erotic and adult in nature. Spike recalled one that he’d had quite a few times where the two of them were in bed making love. He’d awakened soaked with sweat and other fluids after those.

Spike was elated at the realization that she was the one he‘d dreamed about. She truly and literally was the girl of his dreams... The problem was that he was dead now. Not much of a chance for any kind of future with her. He’d always had terrible timing, but this took the cake. He shook off the moroseness that threatened to overwhelm him, and attempted to just enjoy being around her.

Spike moved closer to her as she cleaned the mirror. He’d always liked that mirror too. It would be nice to see it shined up after so long.

Spike jumped when Buffy saw him in the mirror and spun around. He held his non-existent breath when she was facing him. Could she still see him? He felt disappointed when it was obvious that she didn’t. He knew he shouldn’t let her see him, but he wanted some interaction with another person so badly...especially his dream girl. But then again, he didn’t want to frighten her either. And the living were notoriously scared when they saw apparitions. He’d seen enough Abbott and Costello and 3 Stooges films to know that much.

Spike glumly left the room and went back to his bedroom, leaving his golden goddess alone for awhile.





Before evening came, Buffy went upstairs to stake out her bedroom. Since she was the one who found the place and was the first one here, she intended to claim the master bedroom.

But as she was passing another room, she stopped. She pushed open the door and peeked inside.

It was a spacious bedroom with a large oak bed against one wall and a long dresser with a giant mirror on the wall opposite the bed. Something about this particular room called to her.

Buffy walked in with her cleaning supplies and looked around. Plush, but very dusty, Persian rugs lay on the hardwood floor.

Buffy got on her knees and began rolling up the rugs to get them ready for cleaning and to fix a place on the floor for her sleeping bag. Her eyes went to the broken window. Was that the window that she thought she saw someone in? She stood up and looked out. Yep. This would have been the same window.

Buffy fingered the old tattered draperies. It must have been the drapes that she saw moving from a breeze.

In the back of her mind a tiny voice spoke up, ‘What if it was a ghost? Old places like these are always haunted...’

Out loud, she said, “Oh, there’s no such thing as ghosts...no such thing. That‘s just...silly kid‘s stuff.”





Spike had watched her for a while before wandering away again. He didn’t want her to accidentally get another glimpse of him and get scared again. As much as he craved her company, he resigned himself to keeping watch from a distance, just to make sure none of the others disturbed or frightened her.

“I wonder what her name is...probably something to do with moonlight -- soft and yielding...” Spike waxed poetic.

He sighed. She’d be gone in the morning. No one ever stayed. Then he’d be alone again. Maybe forever.




Buffy laid on top of her sleeping bag on the bedroom floor.

Her battery-powered lantern was glowing brightly next to her. The evening was hot and muggy, making her wish for air-conditioning or at least a fan. Hell, she’d settle for a cool breeze. And she really needed a shower after all the dusting she’d done that day.

Buffy was trying to go over the tasks she wanted to accomplish the next morning but her mind kept wandering. She couldn’t help but wonder about the bedroom. Whose room had it once been? It was a man, judging by the more deep and masculine colors present. She was anxious to explore the room and find out more about the former occupant by the things he had left behind. She’d found a tattered and faded Sex Pistols poster that had fallen behind the dresser. She couldn’t imagine someone who lived in a luxurious mansion being into punk rock. It had made her giggle.

What had the guy been like? She had a strange compulsion to find out.

Buffy squirmed a bit. She had been feeling kind of horny the whole trip up to the mansion. Since she was alone in the house tonight, she decided to take care of herself and help relieve some of the anxiety she had about being alone.

Buffy reached into her duffel bag and brought out ‘Old Faithful’, her trusty vibrator. Unlike the men she’d had in her life, ‘O.F.’ had never let her down. She slipped off her pajama bottoms and her panties then spread her legs.





Spike drifted into the bedroom, curious about the strange buzzing sound he heard from the hallway. He stared, dumbstruck, at the petite blonde as she masturbated.

He reacted much as a flesh and blood male would. He was turned on, very turned on. He floated closer to get a better look. Spike knew it wasn’t proper or polite to observe someone doing this, but he couldn’t help himself. It had been a long time since he’d even thought about sex. He was fascinated. It also brought back choice snippets of those dreams he’d had and he longed to touch her like he did in them.

Buffy groaned in frustration. It wasn’t working. For some reason, she just couldn’t ‘get there’. Suddenly, she felt a slight chill, which felt wonderful on her hot, sweaty skin. The lantern light began flickering.

“What the hell?” Buffy said in surprise.

Before the light could go out for good, Buffy sat up and dug into her duffel bag for a few fat pillar candles. She lit a few of them and sat them nearby on the floor just as the lantern went out.

Buffy still wanted -- needed -- to get off something fierce, so she laid back down and re-applied the vibrator to her pussy. A minute later, that quit working too.

“Goddammit!” Buffy cursed. “Stupid fucking batteries! I just changed the damn things! Radio Shack is on my shit list!”

She wanted to scream with sexual frustration. Tossing the vibrator back into her bag, she laid back down with her legs still spread wide. She spread her nether lips with her fingers -- as if she were waiting for someone to help her out.

Spike had never wanted to be alive or solid again more than he did right now. He felt the sexual need, his cock was painfully hard (well, it felt that way to him anyway), but he couldn’t do anything about it, or about helping the young beauty out...or could he? Would she want him to if he could? She was so lovely and she wanted release so bad... It didn’t occur to Spike that it was his presence that disrupted the power to her lantern and vibrator. In his highly excited state, he was unknowingly affecting the power sources.

He watched as she tilted her head back and rubbed up and down her spread lips lightly.

“Please...” Buffy said plaintively, not knowing why she was saying it.

‘Is she asking me to touch her? Does she know that I’m here on some level?’ Spike wondered.

He moved to her, kneeling down between her legs, gazing at her wide open sex. He reached out a hand slowly, touching her labia with a forefinger.

Buffy’s eyes shot wide open and she gasped at the coldness touching her mound. She looked down her body but didn’t see what could be making her feel it.

Spike smiled in delight and surprise. She had felt it. And he had felt her. He had to concentrate hard to make it happen but he had done it. It wasn’t a completely solid touch, his hand still tended to pass through her, but he was able to create some resistance, enough for them both to feel the contact. He wanted to weep at the feel of another person’s body after an eternity.

He looked at her face to gauge her enjoyment or fear. There was some fear, but she wasn’t jumping away or closing her legs, so he went back to touching her. He slid his fingers over and inside her labia and rubbed her clit while still watching her face for a sign that he should stop.

“Oh! OH! Yesss!” Buffy moaned as the phantom fingers explored her crevice.

She was afraid, but her excitement surpassed it. The sensations were incredible. It felt kind of like someone was sliding a piece of ice around her red-hot pussy.

Spike was breathing hard (he forgot that he didn’t need to). She was really enjoying it. He wondered if he’d be able to taste her. Taking his hand off of her, he bent forward.

Buffy groaned when the sensations stopped.

Spike stuck his tongue out and concentrated on making it solid. He leaned in and licked the inside of her slit from bottom to top in a quick stroke.

“Ahhhh!” Buffy’s body jerked. “Oh God!” she panted. “What was that?! And -- please let it happen again!”

Spike’s long-dead taste buds were bursting from her juices. He could taste her! Her flavor was sweet and rich, like the sweetest honey in the world. He couldn’t remember the last thing he’d tasted, but he was sure it wouldn’t have compared to this. Spike smirked then dived back into her honeypot for more. After dipping his tongue inside her a few times, he used a technique a friend of his had told him once, licking the alphabet.

Buffy gasped and panted as what felt like a tongue -- a long, cold, amazing tongue -- pleasured her. It stroked up, down, inside the lips and made circles around her clit. It would wriggle into her hole and thrust in and out rapidly before going back to stroking patterns over her clit that were making her dizzy with pleasure. It was crazy, it was weird, but it was also unbelievably, incredibly good. It was the most bizarre yet wonderful thing she’d ever experienced. Better than any ride at Disneyland, that’s for sure.

Buffy could feel the tongue moving on her, but it was almost unsubstantial, like it could easily go right through her pussy instead of lapping at it. She looked down again, still nothing there. But, boy, did she feel it!

‘It’s a ghost... I’m getting eaten out by a ghost!’ Buffy’s thoughts screamed.

But still, she held herself open for the invasion. She couldn’t stop if she wanted to, what he (it?) was doing felt far too good.

Spike tried sucking on her clit, but his lips couldn’t become firm enough. He settled for using his tongue only. He wanted to make her cum; she really appeared to need it. He tongued her harder and faster, flicking her nubbin rapidly. He was up to the letter ‘Q’ in the alphabet.

Buffy’s eyes rolled back as her orgasm crashed over her.

“Uhhnnnga! OH--OH GOD! YES!” She bucked her hips at the invisible tongue, looking down at herself.

She was spellbound by the way her clit was moving back and forth, seemingly on its own. Slowly, she began to come back down. The tongue was removed from her pussy. Buffy sat up and darted her eyes around.

“H-Hello?” Buffy said in a small voice. “Um... Hi...my name’s Buffy. Thanks for -- Wow -- for doing that... I guess that means you're a friendly ghost, right?” she asked hopefully with a nervous giggle. “Can...I see you? Will you let me? I won’t be afraid...”

Spike licked her juices from his lips and tried to speak to her.

Buffy thought she heard something, like leaves gently rustling in a breeze. Was he trying to talk to her?

“I can’t hear you...” Buffy said, trembling with excitement. “Can you try to talk louder?”

‘Bugger,’ Spike thought.

He’d used up too much energy giving her oral sex. He felt himself fading out. Promising himself he’d see her again before she left, he faded away.

As soon as Spike’s presence was gone, the lantern came back on and the vibrator started buzzing loudly inside of the duffel bag. Buffy jumped then reached in the bag to turn O.F. off. She wouldn’t be needing it tonight.

She pulled her pants back on and laid there, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was racing a mile a minute. Buffy had just received oral sex -- great oral sex -- from a spirit and had a helluva ‘poltergasm’ as a result. That fact alone was crazy enough by itself, but add to that the fact that she wanted it to happen again...and again...

Buffy knew she should be terrified, she should be running, screaming from this house... She didn’t know why she felt a kind of -- Trust? Bond? -- with the very friendly ghost. She knew instinctually that he wouldn’t harm her.





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