Who was she? It didn’t seem to matter; looking at her youthful, slender figure sparked a surge of affection in him. It didn’t matter where he was,...who she was, why they were in this room together. He let his mind and his caution lean back, relaxing in the august radiance of her presence.She was wearing a long red gown, giving her the appearance of a fountain. Her smooth, silken black hair stretched out behind her. Her face, as flawless and beautiful as the evening sunset, gazed at him with deep. Jim was known to be a bit of a womanizer, and though he'd not come right out and approached her sexually, there'd been plenty of hints, a few off colored jokes, and then of course the obvious blatant stares at her chest. Though she really only had herself to blame for that tonight anyway. She knew as well as he obviously did, that her rather prominent breasts looked particularly attractive through the blouse she was wearing. Not to mention her long shapely legs that she knew she was showing off. She was unable to leave the premises for some inexplicable "ghostly" reason and took fleshly form only for me. The fact she paraded around my apartment sans clothes was a perk that I accepted gracefully. She was very generous in dispensing her fleshly charms with very little provocation.Only recently, I had discovered that her younger sister who was now in her mid-50s but looked just 40 was the most likely suspect in her sudden and mysterious demise. Some of what Priscilla told me just did not. I heard, but didn’t see, her come back in. She asked what kind of massage I wanted – hard or soft, and if I wanted oil or talc. I didn’t know but I said for a soft massage and oil, and then she started. I couldn’t really concentrate on what she was doing and I also couldn’t see her. So after a few moments she told me to turn over, which I did. I was so nervous that I didn’t have a hard-on, but when I saw her I became stiff straight away. She had high heels on, stockings, small panties, no bra.
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