The world goes black and, for a moment, I wonder if I joined my husbands in death after so many near-misses. My ghost husbands don’t hover or glow; they look like regular men in their thirties. Blowjob sex If a neighbor hears my demented moans through the wall, they will think my apartment is haunted or something. Three heads twist and perk up. Ghosts are cold when you touch them, but so warm when they touch you. I’m much better at managing my husbands now. “You spoil me, my love.”
“How was your day?”
“You’re late.”
All voices came from the living room where three men stared at a black TV reflecting an empty couch. “You’re feeling like a little slut today, aren’t you?” Lance’s hands trace my round butt until they reach the underbun and he gives my soft cheeks a firm squeeze. My fake husbands each have different personalities, but the universal appeal of a rather busty young woman in a kinky outfit obviously transcends mortality.
