Chapter 6 - Sexy, Spooky Shenanigans.

That’s when things started to get incrementally stranger.

When Brian wasn’t working, writing the mystery novel that seemed to be coming along more and more easily, he was thinking about the blond boy whose picture rested right beside his computer. There was something mesmerizing about that image - those sparkling blue eyes and that fucking sweet smile. No matter how hard Brian tried not to think of the word ‘sweet’ when he looked at the picture, he just couldn't do it. The boy in that picture just defined the word ‘sweet’.

He found himself thinking of the kid even when he should be concentrating on something else. Even when he had the perfect focus for his attention - like the night Brian was in the middle of a hot and heavy cybersex session with ‘Keith’ (or maybe it was ‘Kenny’, or ‘Kyle’, or . . . who the fuck cared?) and every time he closed his eyes for even a brief moment, the sexy brunet with the swarthy skin on his computer was replaced by the image of a slight, young, blond boy. At one point, Brian even imagined he could hear echoes of moaning coming from the darkness behind him, the erotic noises only increasing as he himself came. As he mopped himself up with the handy cum towel waiting next to his computer, Brian marveled at the tricks one's mind could play. He knew he really needed to get a grip on himself before he let all the suggestions he’d been hearing from Mikey and the quilting ladies completely take hold of his brain.

Meanwhile, the diligent do-it-yourselfer was making definite progress on the remaining boxes in the basement and garage. He forced himself to spend at least a couple of hours down in that dungeon every afternoon. He also made several trips with bags full of booty to the local Goodwill donation center to offload what he’d unearthed. Oscar and Bill, the two volunteers that manned the donation desk weekday afternoons, had become regular acquaintances. In fact, the three of them had become so friendly, that the boys even invited Brian out for a drink after his fifth donation trip in just over a week. Brian was a little hesitant to accept the offer at first, viewing the overtures of the two crusty old men with a healthy dose of caution. But, when they refused to take ‘no’ for an answer, Brian was given little choice, and let the pair escort him around the corner to their favorite local pub.

But by the time they had started in on the third round of beers, Brian was glad he’d capitulated. The two men might look like your typical West Virginia rednecks, but the reality was quite different. Oscar was a retired mortician who’d served two tours in Vietnam as a medic in the Marine Corp. He came home with two purple hearts and a hell of a lot of stories. And while he was definitely on the conservative side, he seemed jovial and open minded enough - they’d obviously never agree on politics, but they definitely agreed on beer. Bill, on the other hand, had been a teacher and elementary school principal for twenty-five years and was considerably more liberal. And, while neither man actually came out and said anything, Brian got the distinct impression that they'd both already been privy to whatever gossip Sue Ann was circulating about him. Still, neither man voiced any judgmental opinions on Brian's sexuality, so he didn't sweat it and just let himself enjoy the company.

Inevitably, the conversation turned back to Brian’s house, the eventual renovations he wanted to pursue, and the ongoing cleanup he had to slog through before he could get to that point. This, in turn, brought up Craig Taylor, the mess maker, and that man’s messy downfall after his wife had been killed. Several additional examples of Craig’s unpredictable and sometimes violent behavior were cited. The stories just reinforced what Brian had already heard - that Craig was an abusive drunk who most likely killed his son. Pretty much everyone in the tight-knit community seemed convinced of that possibility by now, and Brian wasn’t in a position to argue the point. But, since he didn’t want to feed the gossip mills any more fodder, he refrained from mentioning the strange occurrences happening around the Taylor’s former home. He already had Michael spouting off about his ‘ghost’, he didn’t need the neighbors all doing the same.

Unfortunately, it was getting harder and harder for Brian to dismiss those same conclusions himself. As the days went by, even more things began disappearing. This phenomenon had actually become so commonplace that it ceased to amaze him. Rather than fight against the inevitable, Brian was now in the habit of leaving the contents of each box he opened on display overnight so that his resident ghost could pick and choose what he wanted to keep before Brian would take the remains out to the curb to either dump or add to his Goodwill pile. He figured it was only fair - assuming his phantom really was the Taylor boy, this stuff belonged to him more than to Brian - so he wanted to give the kid the chance to claim anything he wanted. Hey, it was less shit he had to carry around, right?

Brian did object a little bit, however, when HIS personal possessions were among the disappearing items. His ghost could have all the trinkets and memorabilia he wanted, but why the fuck did he keep taking Brian’s stuff? What the fuck did a ghost need with a hammer or screwdriver anyway? Apparently, though - judging by the increased rattling, rasping, and hammering going on below stairs every night - Brian's resident spook happened to enjoy carpentry. Rather than get even more annoyed, Brian went out, bought himself some earplugs, and resigned himself to dealing with the situation. Luckily, most of his tools eventually found their way back after a night or two of spectral use.

It wasn't until he noticed that his favorite monster purple dildo was missing, that he started to get a little pissed off. Living out here in the middle of nowhere, where there was no one else to play with most nights, Brian really needed that toy. And it WAS his favorite, after all. Although he did find it kind of humorous as well - what self-respecting ghost stole a fucking dildo, after all? But he rather liked the thought that HIS ghost was apparently gay. It seemed appropriate.

So, yeah, it seemed that Brian was becoming accustomed to his supernatural inhabitant, regardless of what noises he made at night or which items he absconded with from under the homeowner’s nose.

Brian sauntered into the Diner and was comforted by the familiar sights, sounds and smells of the place he’d basically grown up in. Everything looked just like it always had. There were the same booths, the same tacky pictures and posters on the walls, the same 50s-style diner counter accessories. Even the customers were the same one’s he’d seen there over and over again for the past fifteen years. Case in point - the three semi-losers otherwise known as his friends, sitting in their usual booth at the back.

Brian strolled over to join them, intending to class up the section with his presence. He got a rousing round of welcome as he slid onto the bench next to Emmett.

“It’s about time, Brian. We’re all starving, but Michael wouldn’t let us order until you got here,” Ted commented, picking up his menu and waving it in the air to get Debbie’s attention.

“Sorry, ladies, but I had to get my beauty rest, you know,” Brian joked, smirking at them just like normal.

“Well, well, well. You look better than when we saw you last, Mr. Kinney,” Emmett tittered. “You’re obviously getting more sleep. So, does this mean you finally got your ‘infestation’ problem under control?”

“Not exactly,” Brian responded, pulling a rolled up newspaper out of his inside jacket pocket and slapping it down on the table top to reveal the little local rag from West Virginia.

The article on the front page immediately got everyone’s attention. It showed a quarter page picture spread with Justin Taylor’s graduation picture. Under the image of the sweetly smiling young blond, the headline read, ‘Local Teen Still Missing After Almost Three Years, Presumed Dead’.

“THIS is your ghost?” Michael asked, grabbing the paper and unrolling it all the way so he could read the article.

It turned out to be a lurid and gossipy piece filled with lots of stories about Craig’s downfall. Michael read the best parts out loud so everyone could get in on the fun. The article described the deceased Mr. Taylor over and over as being unstable, a mean drunk, and hinting at the possibility of ongoing abuse in the Taylor household. Michael was especially focused on the speculations about whether or not Craig had done something to his missing son, Justin. He repeatedly kept interrupting himself to say ‘I told you so, Brian’ as he read. Emmett jumped in and gleefully pointed out that they even mentioned Brian by name in the article, with the author expressing hope that the new homeowner might eventually give investigators permission to search the property.

“Are you sure you should stay out there? I mean, now that it’s been proven why the place is haunted, you can’t seriously think it’s safe,” Mikey pointed out, sounding worried. “All the stories I’ve ever read about ghosts say that, although they don’t always seem bad at the start, they inevitably turn out to be mean and vicious in the end. You don’t want to be there when he turns evil.”

“I’ll be fine, Mikey,” Brian shrugged off his friend’s concerns. “My ghost and I have an arrangement. He doesn’t bug me and I let him borrow whatever tools and shit he needs.” Brian laughed at the shocked look on all his listeners’ faces. “He usually gives them back . . . Eventually.” More stunned silence. “Although, I am a bit miffed this morning - the little shit took my best dildo.”

“Oooo - the gigantic purple one that you call ‘Barney’?” Emmett asked, making Brian wonder how his friend knew which dildos he owned.

“Yep. That’s the one,” he admitted.

“Ewww. I hope he fucking cleans it off before he gives it back,” Mikey commented, turning his nose up at the idea and eliciting more laughter from the table.

“Fuck that. He can keep it. I don’t really want it back,” Brian scoffed.

“Yeah, you don’t wanna get ghost cooties,” Emmy Lou teased. “Leave it to you, though, Brian. Only you could turn a ghost gay.” That got a roar of laughter from not only their table but the nosy queers listening in from the neighboring tables too.

“You guys are insane,” Ted chided them all. “You DO know there’s no such thing as ghosts, right? It’s all just a bunch of superstitious nonsense.”

“Well, then, how do you explain all the weird shit at Brian’s house? The noises? The things going missing?” Michael ticked off the anomalies on his fingers. “What about Gus saying he saw a boy in the wall? How do you explain that, huh?”

“I don’t know, but I can assure you that there IS some legitimate explanation for everything. I refuse to believe in ghosts. Even hot-looking, gay ones that borrow dildlos,” Ted reasoned doggedly.

“You’re no fun, Teddy,” Em complained, slapping at his best friend’s arm in protest. “I think having a sweet little gay ghost is a fabulous idea. It’s just like that Patrick Swayze movie, ‘Ghost’ - only with gay boys, you know? I wonder, though,” Em tilted his head to the side as if deep in thought, “can you teach your ghost boy to give blow jobs? That would be hot, hot, HOT!”

Everyone at the table groaned and threw napkins or french fries at the silly queen.

“Speaking of blow jobs,” Brian said, changing the subject abruptly. “How about we hit the gym and then the steam room . . .”

That proposal was unanimously agreed to and the four of them quickly finished their breakfasts and headed out to the gym without further discussion of Brian’s ghostly tenant. Brian got in a really excellent workout - which he needed since he didn’t have his home equipment set up yet - and then he also got a really excellent blow job, after his workout. But, even as the sexy redheaded aerobics instructor was swallowing his prick whole, Brian was still thinking about a certain blond boy with an alluring, sweet smile.

Upon his return to the West Virginia house, Brian walked in to find one of his best porn videos - Saving Ryan’s Privates - playing in the DVD player. There was even a faint whiff of sex in the air. But, of course, there was nobody in the actual room. It made him chuckle and think back to Em’s comment earlier about teaching his ghostboy to give blow jobs. Which was actually not a bad idea. Not bad at all.

Brian turned off the dvd and headed for the stairs, calling out over his shoulder that if Justin liked porn, he should follow. If Brian felt a little self-conscious about seemingly talking to thin air, he didn’t let it faze him. He just kept going, pulling his shirt off as he climbed towards his bedroom and the plans he was percolating in his brain.

“I guess, if you’re borrowing my dildos and watching my porn, you really must be gay. But I doubt a ghost has much experience in the application of that particular toy. You look pretty young and inexperienced in that picture you left me. So, I’m thinking you might enjoy a personal demonstration, right? After all, I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself or anything.”

Brian had shucked off his jeans and crawled onto the bed already. He quickly reached into the top drawer of his nightstand and pulled out his second favorite dildo - this one a bright red with a thick, ten inch shaft and a strong suction cup at the base. It even had a prostate stimulating vibrator in it. It wasn’t quite as big as ‘Barney’, but it was respectable and would certainly do the trick.

Brian moved around till he was kneeling at the top of the mattress facing the wall, licked the end of the dildo so as to wet the suction cup, and then, using the height of his own dick for reference, he attached the phallus to the wall. Next, he reached over and filled his palm with a healthy dollop of lube from the always-ready pump-top bottle waiting next to his bed and slathered the toy well. Finally, with another pump of lube, he reached around to his own ass, and used his slickened index finger to begin preparing himself.

“You want to make sure you use plenty of lube,” he advised his unseen audience, grunting only slightly as his questing finger pressed through the tight ring of muscles and then sighing when he was finally in. “Or, at least I need to use plenty of lube. I’m not sure if ghosts need lube or not, but better safe than sorry, right? Don’t steal this bottle though,” he cautioned, pointing at his primary supply. “I couldn’t get through the day without it. If you have to nick some lube, you can have the KY in the medicine cabinet.” Feeling stretched enough to continue, he added a second finger, and let out a little involuntary moan at the delicious burn. “Take your time and make sure you’re completely prepared. It’s not going to be fun if you rush things. Trust me on this one,” he advised, getting more into his demonstration by the minute as he enthusiastically pressed deeper and scissored his fingers. Bracing himself against the headboard with his clean hand, Brian added a third finger so as to fully demonstrate what he meant about being well prepared. “Yeah, that’s good. You want to be nice and ready. So ready . . .”

Brian rapidly reached the desired level of self-preparation. He was incredibly turned on by the mere idea of his ghostboy watching him doing such an intimate thing. It was something he’d never do in front of a trick. But even though he was the consummate top, like all gay boys, Brian enjoyed a good stiff prick up his ass as much at the next guy. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. The thought that someone might be watching him like this was even more arousing than he would have imagined, though. So, without further ado, Brian pulled out his fingers, spun the knob to start the dildo vibrating, turned himself around so that he was positioned on all fours with his ass butting up against the dildo suctioned to the wooden headboard, and then slowly pressed his ass backwards as the toy slid inside him.

“Fuck, yeah!” he moaned as the painful pleasure of the stretch burned through him. “Just go . . . slow . . . your first time . . . You want . . . to make . . . it good . . .” he added as he demonstrated the proper technique by smoothly rocking forward and back, forward and back, angling his hips with each thrust to get the most out of the vibrating toy.

Unfortunately, Brian sort of lost track of his lesson plan right about that point in the demonstration. Mostly because he was having far too much fun. Besides, he figured his spooky student would get the basic idea just by watching.

The fact that he was being watched added to Brian’s pleasure level immensely. To the point that he reached his climax much quicker than he would have expected. In no time at all, the big brunet had reached the point of no return. He shifted his weight just enough so he could tug at his dick with one hand and then sank backwards as far as he could go. The resulting climax was exquisite.

Brian fell asleep with a happy, sated grin on his face and his eyes locked on the smiling photo of a blond boy who was welcome to haunt Brian’s house all he wanted provided this was the happy end result.