It was one of those nights. It was fair out. Not too cold, a little breezy and you had to be careful not to step in puddles. They tended to hide underneath mats of leaves and splash unsuspecting adventurers. Two of which, Etienne and Floyd were in danger of splashing into.
The old abandoned buildings loomed in front of them. The were haloed by the light of the moon. The tree out front had already lost most of its leaves, an old and wise sugar maple that had turned into a skeleton of a tree in the October night air.
The Taunton Asylum had been abandoned for years. It was scheduled to be razed and Floyd had scooped in on this, given a considerable bribe and made it all of the Freeholds for most of October.
“What do you think?” he asked Etty, flashlight pointed toward the bricks of the building, “Is it satisfactorily creepy enough for a Halloween party?”
The reason he was showing her? Why not. Do a little urban exploration before it was decorated and full of people and music. This was their own haunted house for the night.
“Do you want to go inside?”
Creepy as shit, that’s what it was. She picked her way over the detritus on the ground, cursing quietly when her toe was suddenly saturated. Etty hadn’t worn boots, but really, when Floyd said he wanted to go check something out, she didn’t think they’d be picking through the woods to check out a haunted house. She stopped when he did, looping her arm through his.
“Um. Yeah. I think it qualifies as creepy as fuck.” She grinned at him, looking back up toward the building. It served its purpose, especially when Etienne imagined what the place would look like, decorated and lit and full of people in costume. Everyone would need to be warned about wearing proper attire - boots would be necessary, or at least a change of clothing.
“Fuck yes, I want to go inside.” And she was off, skipping over branches and bricks that had decided to abandon the plan. Finding an entry shouldn’t have been too hard, the place was pretty decrepit.
“Yeah. Creepy.” He said, looking up at the gigantic place, the building that was brick and hard angles. It had spikes along the roof ridge. It was bad ass. There was even a cemetery nearby. You could see the white stones lit up by the hairy light of the moon.
He patted her hand and led her to the door, jumping over puddles and then scooping her little body up so that he could take her across the threshold like they were a creepy couple. Oh wait! They totally were.
Inside the place? It was equally as gross, equally as creepy. Paint peeled, wallpaper flaked. There were great, long corridors of the asylum that led to dark rooms and abandoned wheelchairs. “There’s supposed to be a morgue.” he told her. “I think I’ll do something down there. Maybe a haunted house. Something.” he only had two weeks to plan it all. Good thing he was hiring some fucking party central crew to make all his dreams come true.
“Tyr said he’d make thunder and lightning but no rain. Maybe some fog. What do you think?” he wanted to know what she would add, do, advise.
She laughed when he scooped her up, lacing her arms around his neck. Over the threshold, and she immediately looked around. “Oh, morgue would be a nice place to have like… actors? Maybe? If you want to shell out. Have them all done up like bodies and stuffed in the drawer things? That’d be creepy as fuck.”
Tyr fucking with the weather, that would be interesting. Maybe they could record Nicki howling, if Nicki howled when she was wolfy. “I think it’ll be fantastic. Did they have padded cells? Oh, and like, nurses station could be a really good dance space? Like whatever large space or something.” She drew her hand along the wall, paint flaking off beneath her fingertips. “How much decorating do you plan to do, versus just leaving it creepy natural?” Etty grinned at him, reaching over to tug at his shirt. “Seriously, this’ll be awesome.”
“I mean...I am going to decorate few spaces - Dance, Food, Kissing Corner.... Put blocks up for the dangerous areas. Light up places so people cans where they are going.” He hadn’t put her down yet. She was light. He sometimes forgot when he was carrying her that maybe he SHOULD put her down. This was nice, they could talk easily.
“I don’t know if there are padded cells. I honestly haven’t done much scoping on the inside, just on the outside.” that was he brought her here, to this spooky ass place, in the middle of ghost season.
Sometimes he didn’t think logically. There was probably something in him that wanted the ghosts to come so that he could defy them.
“Maybe I should hire a whole bunch of actors. Get them dressed up, do a crazy haunted area...complete with um...bats? Can you rent bats?”
She laughed, arms still around his neck, and she leaned up to nip at his jaw when he mentioned the Kissing Corner. “Well, then, it’s good we’re here, scoping things out. We can figure out what the best area would be for everything to be centralized, and figure out where to put generators for power, and all that stuff.” Etty stared up at the ceiling, seeing water stains and thick cobwebs. It was already ready already.
“No, I don’t think you can rent bats. Plus, really, there might be some here somewhere. But we shouldn’t fuck with the bats. They’re all rabies-infested. Plastic bats, those could work.” She pointed. “Go in there. Treatment room…” She read the plaque on the wall. “Ohhh this is probably where they did the shock treatments and all that other horrible shit.”
He brought her into the room, and immediately set her down on the table with the straps dangling. The flashlight was pointed at various angles in the room. All the corners but there wasn’t anything there. Just them and a rickety old table. It creaked despite her diminutive size.
“Shock treatments…”they had a whole different meaning for Floyd. Electricity was one of those forces that he was well attuned to. Etty knew. Also, he knew the state of Asylum life. The way the subjects were treated back then and now. Things had improved, he supposed but who is the advocate for those that cannot speak for themselves.
“Horrible shit.” She sat on the table, legs swinging, looking around as the beam of light flashed around the room. her hands found his hips and pulled him close to her, just to keep him close. “I can’t imagine being someplace like this, even when it wasn’t all fucked up and broken down.” She could imagine, but it was all horror-movie influence. Still, in her head, she could imagine what it was like to have an instrument butted up against her tear duct, and could hear the ping of a hammer as it was driven into the front of her brain.
She shuddered, and hopped off the table, hugging him before she took his hand in hers and pulled him out of the room, through a side door. It let into a narrow corridor, doors on either side with slots in them, and small windows reinforced with wire. Some were open, most were shut and looked sealed that way with rust.
“Good choice, Floydy. This place is grade-A creeptacular.” She walked backwards, grinning at him, her hand still in his.
Down the hallway, quiet doors with rust. It was already boring him. It didn’t creep him out, this silence, the loneliness that permeated the halls. Ghosts didn’t scare him either. Nothing scared him but being the same, eternally.
“I know how to pick them.” he said, long arm loose from her hand and swinging around her shoulders, where he gave her a tight squeeze. “That ghost ever come back?” he looked down at her, with his eyebrow akimbo. “Everyone’s gotten a ghostly friend. All but me.” he said, wanting to know where his undead fred was supposed to be.
The silence continues, each time the echo of one of their voices finished knocking around the empty spaces. “This place is sad.” he finally said, bending over and peeking in through one of the slots. Nothing there but stale air. A puff of dust when he breathed through his nostrils a little too hard. “It will be good to liven this place up, one more time before it’s torn down for good.”
“You do know how to pick them. You did good.” She slung her arm around his waist and squeezed back, then went poking around, a door giving a pained groan when she tried to open it. “No, no ghost for me. I’m pretty sure I was just tripping balls, really.” She had made a new friend the other day, though. Some girl at the coffee shop down the street, who seemed familiar but Etty couldn’t place her.
“Do you really want to be haunted? I bet someone else would be perfectly happy to give up their ghosty for you.” Another groan from the door, and she gave up trying to open it when she was hanging off it with her full weight.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I mean...what is it really? Just someone that got a little lost.” he didn’t mean to sound so upbeat about it. But he couldn’t help it. The son of the monster knew when to call a spade to spade but even so, nothing was exactly what it seemed.
“You and Nicki were SO high.” he laughed at her, checking another room. “Not even high. I don’t know what you were…”he checked the next room and the next and then…
Nothing.
Not a fucking thing. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“Nothings in this place.” he said, as if he was disappointed, as if he expected ghosts and demons and rabid bats to fly out of the belfry.
“Someone that got a little lost, sure. But they’re dead and all.” She gave up entirely on the door, heading through the corridor until it opened out onto another larger room. Floyd continued checking rooms, and discussing her levels of stoned. “I’m pretty sure I was like… four or five times as high as Nicki. Must’ve been the wolf thing, metabolising the drug differently.” The mural on the wall proved they were both pretty goddamned high, though. It was a nice reminder.
“There’s gotta be something,” she said, speaking up so her voice carried. A stairwell headed upward, and she made her way back to Floyd, lacing her fingers through his and pulling him. “Let’s go check out upstairs. Maybe it’ll be creepier up there, for you?” A smirking grin given, eyebrows perked up.
He allowed her to be pulled, her tiny hand tugging at his big meat hook and they ascended the stairs. More of the same. Old chipped paint, shit on the floor, loose tiles and rotten wood. ‘Is it weird that I thought this might be romantic in some strange and twisted way.” So far there wasn’t a wall he wanted to lean her up against or a surface he wanted to go down on her upon.
He’d have to change that. Make some dust free, flake proof places for the party.
“Things have been quiet enough I guess...right? With all the excitement of the last storm of fucked up, ghosts are Shangri-la. A real vacation.”
and it was then that the shove loosed him from her grip and he went barreling across the floor in a roll.
“It’s kind of romantic. Ish. In an ‘I might need a tetanus shot after this’ type way.” Really, Etienne was so head-over-ass for the guy that anywhere they went held some kind of romance. Her attention was pulled away, Etty looking out through a broken window to the ground below, that she didn’t see anything coming. “I’ll take ghosts over clones, honestl-” The flashlight hit the ground with a clatter, and so did Floyd.
Etty turned, cold fear gripping her as she searched wildly in the dark, then she was near Floyd, crouching at his side. “You okay?” She groped for the flashlight, finding it and casting it around the room. Nothing.
“Fuck you!” said Floyd, not to Etienne. He was talking around her, at the emptiness that permeated. “Sucker punch? Seriously…”he looked disgusted, angry. Then there was an angry noise. A bang that rattled doors.
When it stopped, Floyd took Etienne’s hand again and started for the stairs. If he was being shoved around he didn’t want them to be on the second floor. “You’re gonna follow…”he said, not asking but knowing and there was a band. Once for yes. Twice for No.
“I guess I spoke too soon.” he told Etienne, moving quickly but when he got to the bottom stairs there was a shove again and he landed, hand scraping in broken glass, blood dripping from the gash on his palm.
and when he turned he saw why this ghost was so angry back, “You? Seriously? Everyone gets Roman soldiers and cowboys and I get a fucking rapist.”
Etty followed, a flurry of motion she couldn’t quite catch out of the corner of her eye and Floyd was on the ground again, bleeding. She held out the flashlight, and it finally hit its mark - there stood Sean, in all his dead and strangled glory, staring down Floyd with nothing but menace. Her heart seemed to stop in her chest.
An odd, choked, rough voice. “If it isn’t the whore and her attack dog.” The voice seemed to bend, twist wrong, warbled and cut off in places it shouldn’t have been, working its way around the places where his throat had been collapsed by Floyd’s hands.
“Fuck.” Etty’s voice was barely a whisper, and she backed up until she met the wall. She was a little stoned, yes, but no hallucinogenics then. Sean was really there, instead of dead in her bathtub, or wherever Peter had taken him. She made a move for Floyd, and Sean moved faster, getting between the two of them, his attention on Floyd.
Floyd laughed. That was his first reaction. He couldn’t help it. It was so fucking goddamn ridiculous that the laugh came pouring out of his face. “Yep!” he was still laughing, even as he answered. “Couldn’t just stay in hell? You had to come crawling out, making a fucking ass of yourself.” Floyd was trying to keep the ghosts attention, wanted Etty to get the fuck out of there. He’d sliced through them, he couldn’t stand in her way but he could give her enough time to get out and to the car.
“Look….You a shitball. You deserved to die and I made sure you did. Oh and nice car by the way.” not that the ghost could do too much at that moment. Physical contact took a lot of energy and the ghost was depleted. Especially as it made itself known. “A fucking smart car? Really?”
Sean laughed, “Better than that grandma car you came in.”
“Touche” replied Floyd, not able to say anything about that. HEY! He hadn’t bought it. It was a special made, body hider car.
No way was Etty leaving Floyd alone, not with the ghost of someone she’d pretty much killed. Floyd had just finished the job, and now this piece of shit was fucking with him. She was angry. The fear she was feeling bled away to anger. She pushed off the wall, and when she brushed through Sean’s ghost, she felt ice-cold. She stood in front of Floyd, next to him.
“Fuck off. Leave him alone and get the fuck out of here.” Nicki had said something about salt. Neither had salt. What the hell else could they do, besides run? She reached behind her and clutched the edge of Floyd’s jacket, moving back to stand against him. “We need to get out of here.”
He was so impressed with her badass self. Pushing through the ghostly vapors and coming over to stand beside him. United they stand. “You sound bitter. But why? You worked…”he looked over to Etienne for verification.”as a concessioner? At Provoplace?” he nodded, not going to let someone that had died get on his nerves. It was his duty to get on HIS nerves...if he had nerves. “I gave you a major career lift.”
and he took Etty’s hand and lead her out of the room and down the corridor. Ignoring “Mark” completely, not willing to even acknowledge the fact that he was so angry and decided to plan an undead retribution. Floyd’s young face barely wrinkled. There was hardly even a bother.
As they walked he could hear “Pete” moving along behind them. He didn’t glance back. He just continued not to care. “This is where we’ll have the make-out station.” and he backed her up against the wall and stabbed her pretty mouth with his tongue...JUST to piss off “John”
Her nerves settled into irritated anger, which settled into amusement at watching Floyd shift into obnoxious asshole mode. He did it so seamlessly that if she didn’t know him like she did, she might’ve thought him heartless to the plight of a ghost that they’d both had a hand in making that way. She nodded confirmation that he was popcorn bitch at the theater, smirking at him a little, keeping him as close as she could.
And she ignored Sean. Sean knew what he’d tried to do, and that his own stupid reactions had caused what befell him. No more guilt about it, not anymore. Floyd had made sure she knew that. Sean was beneath them, Sean wasn’t real. “Make-out station, huh?” Etty grinned at him, a chuckle of a laugh sounding when he backed her to the wall, a lewd moan when he kissed her, big show of sucking his tongue into her mouth and pressing up to meet him.
An angry shout from Sean, impotent rage. Too depleted to hit Floyd again, he took to kicking shit up off the floor, sending it in a sad, sliding skitter toward them. Etty looped her arms around Floyd and kissed him harder. Pissing off ghosts, not exactly something most people in the Freehold would do intentionally.
A side eyes glance to “Boris” and he caught the ghostly glowing blur of flailing and anger. He snorted, a soft warm exhale into the kiss as he shoved his tongue against Etienne’s, making it perfectly obvious how enjoyable kissing her could be. Fuck that ghost Worthless in life and just as worthless in death.
Later he’d salt the fuck out of stuff. No sense getting punched in the face. For now, he was going to enjoy that his revenge kept on going, that his rage in no way was impotent, that he was a flame and a fire and he lit Etienne like “Bob” never could...and never would be able to anyone else.
“Is he gone?” he asked, into her mouth, not pulling away, not stopping the kissing just in case that loser hadn’t gotten the hint that he was never going to be Floyd’s big bad. Maybe the True. Maybe even his father...but Sean the popcorn peddler was not going to be the thing that defeated him in the end.
“No idea,” she murmured back, still kissing him. Amazing how quickly it went from a show to just wanting to keep kissing him. Another piece of debris kicked in their direction, and she laughed low in her throat. “Guess not.” Another noise, something strangled and sad and pathetic, and Sean paced a rage-induced half-moon around the two of them, pacing like a caged tiger back and forth, like he was waiting for the energy to clock Floyd again.
Make it worse. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hopped up, clinging to him as she wrapped her legs around his waist. No, she wasn’t necessarily going to fuck him in that filthy, run-down hospital, but the minute she did it, another shout that was nothing but rage ricocheted off the walls. She kissed him until she couldn’t breathe, then broke away with a laugh.
“Ohh, he’s mad.”
No way. No way would he ever give that freak any part of her. Kissing her? That was different. Enjoying the softness of her lips and the hard way she took was something completely different than fucking her in front of a pervert like Sean - alive or dead - he made his bed. There was no way he would give that prick anything more than a hint of how wonderful Etty was. In body and soul. In spirit and humor.
Floyd continued to ignore that rampaging ghost of Sean and instead smiled at Etienne. “Let’s get out of here. I got a whole container of salt back at your place. The one with the girl and the umbrella….” he looked over to where Sean was pacing, angry, waiting for his energy to recover.
“You can give me a blow job on the way back.” This was somewhat something to make Sean more angry and because what the fuck, he was gonna try for one.
She lowered herself back to the ground, staying close to him as she grinned. His suggestion of blowing him on the ride back? That could be fun. See how much she could tease him until he might’ve had to pull over. She pushed open the collar of his shirt and kissed him there, then nodded. “Yeah, let’s get the fuck out of here. Go back to my place. Spend the night at my place, fucking in all the places we haven’t fucked yet.”
The words were said in Sean’s direction, and he glowered at her just as much as he’d been glowering at Floyd, and she laughed. Maybe it was fucked up, not to be concerned, or to be sympathetic to the fact that they’d killed the man and now he was dead and spending his life as an angry ghost, but Etienne didn’t care. Just another unreal thing to deal with in that ridiculous place.
She tugged at him, then headed out of the hospital at a jog.
So they left Sean behind, to Peter’s car. Floyd hadn’t stopped calling it Peter’s car, even if it was in his name. It just wasn’t his no matter how many times he put gas in it, or turned the ignition. It was Peter’s and Floyd was using it. It was just one of those things man.
“We have salt right? We should get salt…” like now, at some midnight convenience store. There was no way that he was going to have Sean tag along on THIS night. No way, no how.
They pulled out of the place, tires skidding a little in the mud but they got out. Floyd checked the narrow reflection in his mirror and when he didn’t see anything he drive quickly to the nearest Cumbies and ran inside. Six dollars later and he was bringing out a cannister of salt. The more expensive salt in the land! Completely worth it. He salted the fuck out of the car.
“Is that all you do?” he asked Etienne, after the salt was poured and they were turning out onto route 44. BAck to providence. “Seems pretty simple...I mean. I feel stupid for not doing it earlier.”
“That’s all you do, apparently. It’s worked around my place, I guess? Maybe that’s why I haven’t seen any ghosts or anything.” She watched the street behind them, waiting for something to pop out, maybe throw something at the glass of the car. Etty sighed, then watched Floyd as he drove.
It was still strange that he had a car. In all the time they’d known one another, neither had ever had their own transportation. Cars rented, cars borrowed, the city traversed on foot. Now, she could stretch out sideways and reach over to draw her fingernails across the skin of his neck, as he drove. “That was really fucking weird. Why, of all people, did you wind up with Sean?” She sat as close to him as she could, with the center console in the way.
Goosebumps formed and he leaned back into her fingers, not at all denying her the chance to rub him or touch him. “Who knows. I ended his life? I dragged him out and put him out to sea? I am not sure how logical the dead are.” he raised his brows at her, looked over and down at her. The light from the passing street lamps strobing on her face. “Why? You want him. I am sure I can come up with some sort of arrangement.”
He was just kidding. He was glad that that SOB was his to deal with. That even if he wanted to haunt Etty he was stuck with a kid that didn’t give a damn about how dead he was or how hard his energies could punch.
Now they had salt. Some protection. He’d salt the fuck out of the asylum too. Now way was he going to have his party ruined because it was Halloween.
“What surface haven’t we fucked on yet?”
“Oh yes. I want him. That’s why I very nearly killed him because he touched me. That is how I show my affection.” Her fingers pushed up into his hair, massaging his scalp, smiling at him. “I mean, I get why he’d be pissed at you. Just… weird. But if anyone should have him, it’s you. Because all you’ll do is piss him off even more.” Etty leaned across to him, biting at his bicep.
Where hadn’t they fucked? “Kitchen counter, hallway…” She paused and looked up at the ceiling of the car, thinking. “Have we fucked in the shower yet? I don’t think we’ve fucked in the shower yet. I’m not even sure if both of us would fit in that shower. And we haven’t banged in your new nook yet. We have work to do.” She grinned broadly, pulling her knees beneath her to kneel on the passenger seat, nipping at his neck. “We haven’t fucked in this car yet either.”
She pretended to look upset. “What’s wrong with us? We’re slipping.”
“I still think of this as Peter’s car.” he said, this time aloud. Not that it should prevent him from fucking her brains off. It normally wouldn’t but he supposed there was some respect for Peter that prevented him from being a complete douchebag to the archer.
“It’s mine though.” he nodded, his bright eyes something like an owls as they reflected the light from any source they could absorb. He was predatory then. Determined and he swerved off and out of the way on some unknown dirt road. Then he turned off the car lights.
“Take off your shirt.” he told her, not even making a move to touch her yet. “Get completely fucking naked.”
She was still affectionately pawing at his neck when he swerved off the road, and she laughed when he did. “It is yours. Everything in it.” It was dark, just enough light cast through the windows to see edges and outlines. More as her eyes adjusted, and she could see the predatory nature of him. See him watching her. Before she acquiesced to his demand, she tilted the seat back. Etty grinned at him, bottom lip bitten on one side, and she tugged her shirt over her head.
It was thrown at him, into his lap. Arms twisted behind her and she unhooked her bra, sliding it slowly down her arms. Just enough light there to see those heavy, rounded curves. She watched him, staring. “I want to see you stroke your cock while you watch me.” She leaned back, head up to watch him as her fingers worked on the button and zipper of her jeans, a long pause as she slid snug fabric over the width of her hips. Pants thrown into the back seat, socks with them, shoes after. There would be no quick redress if they were caught.
She laid back, bare, letting her fingers trail lines over her hips.
Caught by who? Police? Laughable. He would run that fucking cop over before he let anyone barge in on them. Especially when she was instructing him. Now, he much preferred when she stroked him but he found himself digging his cock out. It was nearly hard anyways and he knew exactly how to move to get hard and ready in about three seconds. Then he had to vary his touch, so he wouldn’t trigger too fast. He was an expert at getting himself off.
So was she.
Really, he didn’t need to stroke himself to enjoy the view. He wasn’t sure that she was really that interested in watching him do this either, but he continued.
“Slower.” even if she was already moving at an unspeakably infuriatingly slow way up the perfect build of her body.
Etty was enjoying watching him, teeth digging into bottom lip as she teased fingers over her skin. Anxious, anticipation for what was coming, even if it was her own fingers that traipsed between her thighs. A sigh when her middle finger slid down over her slit, then back up to circle her clit. A hand reached over to him, fingers gripping his pant leg.
Knees butterflied, and she eased two fingers inside, each touch slow, her eyes ticking from his face to his hand pumping over his cock. She wanted to maul him, wanted his mouth on her, his hands on her, his cock in her, every bit of him as close as she could get him. She smiled at him, predatory, interrupted by a quiet gasp as her fingers found those places that made her moan.
Slow. Steady. He tried not to move quick. He maintained a consistent and manageable level of stimulation as he watched her fingers dip inside. Tongue licks his lips and he swallowed, more noisily than he he anticipated. “You’re killing me.” he told her in a whisper, windows fogging up because of the cold autumn night and the warmth the two of them were generating.
Then she broke the distance, hands on his pants and that opened up the opportunity to take what he wanted. Damn his body, so long it was a hard thing to move around in this little car. He’d try though. Fuck damn he’d try. But first, his hand moved in her direction, across her stomach, over her hand that was moving. His fingers flicked her fingers away and he took over, steady pressure, a circular manipulation against the button, hopefully flipping her switch.
Etty was tempted to push his hand away, take over again, but then he was touching her. She let her hand cover his, no guiding or stopping, just covering there. Turnabout was fair play, and she took over for his hand stroking around his cock with the one not covering his fingers playing against her.
She shuddered and sighed a moan, her back arching. Dripping wet already, as she nearly always was when the idea of him touching her sprung to mind. “You barely fit in this car,” she mused, pulling her hand away from covering his to tug at the collar of his shirt, leaning up to kiss him.
A hiss through teeth, his head hit the back of his seat as she gripped him and he smiled. His fingers slipped down, teasing and then back up when he continued to move, twisting and reciprocating the kiss. Tongue spread her lips and he slipped in between her teeth, mouth opening as he gorged himself on her mouth. The more he tasted the hungrier he got. A moan and his fingers went faster.
“Come over here…”he tugged her, urging her to climb over the gear shift and get on his.
A moan sounded against his mouth, muffled for the fact that his tongue was so deeply ensconced with hers. She shivered beneath his touch and the chill that still permeated through the glass, quickly disappearing as the two of them ticked everything hotter. She sighed, and he was pulling her, but she pulled away.
“Strip. Get completely fucking naked, and then I’ll fuck your brains out.” She sat up, waiting to pounce, waiting for him to be as bare as she was, and then she would be in his lap.
Seriously, it didn’t take much prodding to get him to take his clothes off but he was impatient tonight and so he did so without grace. Limbs flailed, he knocked into the steering wheel, he beeped the horn not once but twice trying to get his pants off. His heap of clothes were thrown in the back seat along with hers.
When he was fully nude he pulled her over across his lap and kissed her again, licking a path down her neck until he could manage getting one of her nipples firm inside his mouth. His tongue swirled and sucked and he repeated this action on the other side before allowing her to get situated in such a way that they could move as if they weren’t trapped in a well.
She clambered over the center console, and it took her a moment to get her knees into a comfortable position at either side of his hips, her attention on getting into position distracted by his mouth, her back arching like a drawn bow, her hand bracing on the headrest. A ripple across her skin, until nipples were hard and her arms were covered in goosebumps, and she moaned.
“I need you in me…” She whined, finding space between him and the steering wheel and that small space around them, her head dropping forward to kiss him hard as her fingers align his cock, sinking down with muscles clenched, breaking away from that kiss to cry out. A stuttering gasp, and she looked directly at him, watching his face as she sank down to the hilt of him.
“That is the best fucking thing in the world,” she managed, hips drawing slowly upward and back, then returning just as achingly slowly. Finding that tease again, and slaying him with it.
“Yeah?” he asked, sitting there for a second, enveloped by the warm velveteen sweetness of her and he closed his eyes, felt the pulse, the blood, the way her muscles twitched even when they were as still as they sat now.
A moment and then he rocked his hips, a bounce, in a sense tossing her up a few inches so that she came down on him in a way that was chaotic, a little rugged, not smooth and control but a haphazard and desperate attempt to move with some relevance in this tiny car.
He moaned, open mouth, skin pulsing blue when the electricity started. He barely noticed it anymore - how it looked. How it felt? that was different. Her cunt was perfection. If heaven was really a place then he was sure that even god would want to fuck her.
That shock of connection, physical and electrical, it rocked her deep like it always did. She searched for purchase on the seat of the car as he shot his hips up into her. Didn’t give her an option as to that slow, easing fuck, and Etty couldn’t complain. “Best fucking thing,” she whimpered, that static feeling careening over every inch of her, inside and out.
It didn’t happen every time, but when it did, it was something else. Fucking him, every time, was a mind-wrecking endeavor, and when her ability decided to kick up and add another level, it sent her into the stratosphere. Almost immediately, she was inching toward an orgasm, shuddering on top of him as she fucked him harder. She shouted, shivered, and never stopped fucking him, hips hitting a jagged pace.
“Goddammit…” She panted the word as she leaned down to kiss him, not slowing, not stopping. “The things you do to me are un-fucking-believable.”
His hands inched up her back and how soft she was. Her skin was haloed by the blue light of the moon. Just enough light leaked in through the fogged up window. Up and then across her ribs where they met with her breasts. Floyd likes how heavy they felt under his palms. How they hefted whenever he thrusted up into her.
Hands moved back down to her hips where he held her, aided her, lifted her up and down as fast or as slow as he wanted her to go on top of him. For the moment words escaped him. He couldn’t think of anything to say other than a ‘fuck’ or a ‘god”. His breathing was hard, his mouth found her skin and he breathed hot on her cool skin.
He controlled how quickly she moved on top of him, and she gave over that control to him. Etty gripped his shoulders, letting her head fall forward, panting and moaning, lost in sensation. All there was in the world in that moment was the little space inside that car, and that electrified connection to Floyd. He drew everything out of her, literally and figuratively, in a way no one else could.
Wild twisting of her hips, minimal movement possible in that car, and still she unraveled above him. She arched back, just far enough until her head connected with the roof of the car, one hand bracing above her, the other smearing across the window as she reached and gripped the door. Etty fucked him harder, the loud moaning from her even louder in the small space.
Mouth found hers again and he quieted her while he kissed her hard, their tongues colliding, wide mouthed and uninhibited.
Unfortunately there wasn’t much he could do with his lower half. In that aspect he thought maybe he wouldn’t mind a truck…. He was stuck in one movement, thrusting up, bucking into her.
His fingers strummed, nails raking against her legs, up her ass, hands back to gripping her hips, “Turn around…”he told her, reaching and sliding the seat back as far as it could go. Not that it could much further. He was basically already at the end of the space alotted to him in this car.
He assisted, helping and when she was back toward him he groaned at the new sensation, long arms reaching around her and getting to her clit, where he worked his finger against her as he jolted into her, deep.
It took some doing, and she was happy in that moment she was as small as she was. It was almost unpleasant, that need she had to have him in her again as she shifted, but it was a good change. Angles shifted how deeply he hit her, to the point that his cock hurt at full depth, in the best possible way. Fingers gripped the dashboard, and she stalled herself there, pushing back until she couldn’t take any more of him, clenching, not moving. Etty looked back over her shoulder at him, gasping.
Each muscle in her back was lit in shadow and relief, the curve of shoulder blades sharp, sinewy movement relayed there when she started to move. A shudder from head to toe, another gasp, another moan, louder as his fingers worked against her. She didn’t need much motivation, her entire body buzzing and ready to break. She tilted back, closer, until her back was to his chest, hips twisting until the depth of him made her ache.
His other hand moved to her breast, a hard twist of her nipples and then after he was gentle, sweet, a soft brush of fingers gently across her chest, his lips kissing where her neck joined her shoulder.
Not that he had slacked off. When he wanted he fucked her, when he wanted to slow down and arouse the anticipation he stopped. It came to a place though that his body wasn’t going to give him too much leeway.
Harder and harder, “Tell me when you’re ready.” it was a challenge, to hold off, to wait. He was hoping he could.
A gasping yelp sounded when his fingers twisted already aching nipples, reaching up to cover his hand with hers, fingers sliding over skin and gripping his wrist. She turned her head, lips brushing his temple as he kissed her neck. The pitch of the sounds she made leveled with how hard they fucked, how hard he drove up into her, how hard her hips came down against him. That electrical charge, his fingers, the feel of him against her and inside of her…
“Always ready,” she breathed, and it was true. Snap of fingers and he could make her scream. Her forehead pressed to his temple, and she breathed hard, quiet, focused on sensation. Caught entirely in the moment, the strange experience in the asylum forgotten, any strange goings-on back in Providence so far away that they could be ignored completely. Tied up in him, in them, in that fire ripping up her spine.
“Fuck,” she breathed, a warning, an alert, and no more words came. How hard her cunt clenched around him made her body buckle, shivering against him despite the sweltering temperature in the car created between the two of them. Spasms, hips grinding down until it was impossible for her to be closer to him, and the noise that came from her was somewhere between a moan and a wavering cry. Fingernails dug into his wrist. “Floyd. Mine. Fuck.” That was about as intelligent as she could be in that moment.
That was all he needed really, that pull along him, the dawn and the sunset all in one. The world in one, the whole world in his arms, pulling and mining and making this his favorite car that he’d ever owned.
He echoed her fuck, holding her tight, spilling into her with a tremble and a jolt up and inside, deep all the way and he pressed his sweaty forehead to her shoulder. Lips kissing, pressed to her damp, sex sheened skin.
“I love you...I love you...I love you….”he whispered, as if it was the only poetry he knew, the only poetry that mattered.
She let her weight fall backward against him, echoing back those ‘I love you’s’ over and over, slumping down, nuzzling into his neck, staying as close as she could, lips against his throat. Little moments where she stepped outside of the situation and became very aware of it, tangled in the arms of a man she loved, and she swore it was perfect.
So little to hang onto that meant anything, and she clung tightly to Floyd. A sigh, a contented moan, and she wrapped her arms around his where he held her. And then her knees ached. “You’re perfect.” A kiss to his throat, and she started to move away from him, when something pinged off the window.
Fingers wiped at the fog on the glass, and there was Sean, glowering and dead. Etty flinched when he rushed the car, but there was nothing he could do to get in. The car rocked. “Well, that’s going to be fun.”
Once Etty was safely on the other side, he told her to , “Buckle up.” and started the car. Sean was a weirdo. So far, he hadn’t felt a spinal wave of terror because of this undead creation. He revved the engine, the growl of the little car sounding off and then they were off. Driving through Sean and back onto Route 44. Both were still buck naked and Floyd shivered, turning on the heat of the car to 4. It whirred on, defrosting the steam and warming up the car all the way back to her little shop on Wickendon.
“Why can’t the dead just stay dead?” he asked her, not knowing why the ghosts felt compelled to come back. Shit...move on already. Make a new home with the other dead people, down in the pits of hell or heaven or valhalla.
She got into her seat, buckled up, and reached in the backseat to get their clothes. Once they were back on the road, she pulled her panties back on, and her t-shirt. Bra could stay off until they got home. “I don’t know why shit can’t stay dead. I salted the shit out of the place, so we’re safe at keeping him the fuck out. Salted the whole building, actually. Even outside.” She didn’t bother with her pants, and folded Floyd’s things so they wouldn’t get wrinkled - since he wore nice things.
To the shop, where he pulled into the driveway, and she offered him his underwear. “You spending the night?” There was a hopeful tone there. As much as she’d been acting like nothing about Sean’s ghost had gotten to her, it had.
“Of course I am.” He said. It wasn’t late but it was late enough where he didn’t want to drive the five minutes back to the hotel. “I am freezing. I need you to warm me up.” he answered. Also, yeah, no way was he going to leave her alone knowing that that douche was out and about. Plus, he hadn’t salted his place.
He left his clothes in the back seat. Didn’t bother with his underwear. His boots were still on. He couldn’t unlace those fuckers and pull them off comfortably in this rink dink car in the midst of sex. That would have been an ugly endeavor for the both of them.
So, he was fast, when they got out and moved up the stairs to her place he was quick. His parts were dangling and the full moon was out but anyone who saw didn’t see a lot or for long. Into the apartment he went and he immediately went to get a pair of fleece and his slippers. He then looked out the window and spotted Sean on the other side. Floyd gave him the middle finger.