Erotic Fiction

Spooky

Things that go bump in the night.

Nickles

23 Feb 2026 • 7 min read

I love sucking cock. Always did… when I was alive… and now too.

Forming an O-shape with my mouth and then using it to tantalise the helmet. Sliding my lips up over the ridge at the base of the crown then following the contours up until I’m kissing the tip, then easing them back to the bottom of the ‘bell’. After the fourth or fifth time doing this he’s usually writhing. Reuben certainly is.

Twisting my head from side to side so my lips slide along the helmet’s ridge laterally and swirling my tongue around that shiny purple(ish) ‘finial’, sometimes lightly, sometimes with more pressure, exciting all the touch sensors hidden under the skin. Doing so has shortened Reuben’s breath and opened his mouth. He’s loving it, even though he’s still just about asleep.

Running my tongue along the underside and sides of his erection and pushing the pointed tip into his piss slit. The attempted “Ohhhhhhh”, he’s just pushed out tends to suggest he’s on the brink of waking, in that curious twilight between awake and asleep.

Then, of course, there’s gobbling down until his bell-end is in my throat and my lips are at the inner end of his dick, my nose squashed up against his pubis. Holding it there and then reversing my head until his prick comes out of my mouth before going for the full dive again. Ah, his eyes have opened. He’s confused and his brain is scrambled. His knob feels great… so much so that he can’t work out what’s going on.

The past twice he didn’t notice, just carried on sleeping. So I brought him off and savoured his spunk when he shot it into my mouth.

This time, though, he’s woken up and he’s mentally freaking out as I slurp along his cock. I occasionally get little flashes of what’s going on in their minds. Reuben started thinking that the man he brought home was good at blow jobs. Then he remembered he didn’t bring anyone home. Yet his cock feels fantastic as I work it with my mouth and tongue.

I’ve temporarily paralysed his arms, legs and voice. All he can do is lie there. Part of him is afraid… but (forgive me if I seem immodest) my oral attentions are giving him such a brilliant time that he’s staying hard.

He can’t see me, just feel my lips, tongue and throat.

I am a poltergeist.

The cliché says I should be throwing pots etc and smashing them but I can cause far more confusion my way. Make much more noise in his head. Sex is my weapon and I love wielding it.

Sometimes my ‘victims’ freak out and lose their erection, so I give them a couple of chances and then make sure they don’t spend long thinking about me. Then occasionally I get one who’s sexual energy is dominant and who stays stiff even though they can’t work out what’s going on or who’s turning them on so much… or if, actually, they should be afraid of the unknown. As seems to be the case with Reuben. He can’t move or speak but he’s totally turned on, hard and dripping pre-cum, which tastes brilliant.

The fact he’s still hard gives me an idea. I don’t get to do so often, so it’s totally consuming. Maybe I can get a fuck.

I will his ankles together and then shuffle up him, placing my knees either side of his hips. I reach down and give his cock a wank to keep him hard, then pull my balls aside. I spit in my own hand and then reach under myself to work it into my arse. I slide first one finger in and begin to open myself up, all the time letting my other hand slide along his cut length. Then it’s two fingers, forcing my muscles to relax in preparation for him.

When I’m ready I line up his nib on my pucker and then ease myself down on to him. His eyes widen to the point where I think they might pop out.

When I was alive I loved to bottom, so much and so often that I’d got to the point where the pain of first penetration was minimal. I make a mental note to find some way to practise more, so, even though fucking is now a form of haunting, I get rid of that silly episode of anal burn as I push a cock into me.

Reuben’s eyes and forehead reveal his confusion. He can feel my channel round his dick but the furrows across his brow say he can’t believe it. For a fraction of a moment I’m sorry for him. Then I pull myself together and shift my focus away from his mind and to his heart. He’s not a nice man. He’s self centred and unkind and greedy and I’m aware my own heart swelling with satisfaction as I tune into that. I feed off his nastiness and begin to rock my hips, feeling his dick move back and forth inside me. His erection persists and I relish it. It’s a while since I’ve fucked, so I vow to carry this on as long as I can. His hardness is making me hard and I give into the temptation to wank myself.

I concentrate on the deliciousness of being fucked. I know if I hadn’t paralysed him he’d be pushing his dick up into me but I can’t risk that. I can, however, make the best of it for myself. I shift up on to my feet and slide him into me a couple of times before pulling off almost all the way. I stop when only his helmet is inside me, peeling back my anal lips and stimulating all the touch receptors there. I groan as I rock back and forth, pushing his crown into my pucker and then lifting off again. He hears my groan and begins to go soft, so I up the ante, lifting myself off and on to him more quickly, offering him more sensation even as I do so for myself.

Then I shift the rhythm. Sinking my hole all the way down his length two or three times before returning to bobbing up and down on his cock-head. I repeat several times (10 reps, ha-ha-ha). The alternation of the two rhythms gets him nice and hard again and makes my arse feel fab.

We’re both getting close, Now that I’ve established I can fuck him I’ll keep it going for a few months. For now, though, I just want to feel his cum. I bounce up and down faster, watching his face contort as he gets closer and closer; loving the feel of his cock in my hole. He holds out a wee bit longer than I’d thought and then his dick twitches several times as he pumps his spunk into me. So much in fact that it begins to dribble out… a bonus that pushes me over the hill too. I shake as I climax and Reuben seems to love it.

I slowly stand, step off and move to the doorway, watching from a few feet away as I gradually allow him to control his limbs and voice again. He can’t really understand, so I dissolve his bewilderment by turning his memories into dreams. Over the next few months I’ll allow him to remember more and more and be tortured more and more. Our nocturnal shags will slowly drive him mad but I’ll have a good time for a while.

This story was written as part of a Naked Men Talking Writing Workshop, in response to the prompt "Things that go bump in the night". Copyright remains with the author - this story cannot be republished or distributed without the consent of the author.

Spooky

Nickles

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