Ghost Writer in the Storm
written by:
NyFireBird

Ghost Writer In The Storm

It was a dark and stormy night.

Jessica thought sarcastically as her gold Chevy Malibu was being pelted by tirades of water from the angry gods. She clenched the wheel and tried desperately to keep the car from swerving off the muddy road. Moments before the storm hit, her editor had sent her to cover a human interest story on farmers protesting some new government regulations. He had conveniently omitted the part about the interview talking place in an uncivilized part of the country that had never heard of paved roads or streetlights.

Trying to navigate in zero visibility was nearly impossible, but a deadline was a deadline and hers was almost an hour late. Once the road straightened out, she pressed a bit harder on the gas pedal - and instantly plunged the car through a huge pothole. The resulting tidal wave reached almost to the windows, soaking the engine, which sputtered in protest just before it died.

"Fuck!" she cursed into the darkness, hoping the anger would replace the fear which was slowly beginning to numb her senses. She switched on dashboard lights and grabbed the cell phone from her purse, but to her dismay, discovered the battery was completely drained. She took a deep breath, tried not to panic and turned the key again, but the engine refused to turn over.

The lukewarm coffee she'd drank an hour ago was pressing insistently on her bladder and Jessica knew one way or the other her pants were going to get wet. Deciding that taking an outside piss was more preferable to wetting the car seat, she reluctantly opened the car door and promptly stepped into three inches of mud. She reached for her umbrella and tried to balance it over her head with one hand while the other fumbled with her zipper. She was about to lower her pants when she noticed a flash of light appear in the window of a cabin not more than a few hundred yards away.

Taking a chance the resident wasn't a crazed killer, Jessica began walking towards what she hoped would be a warm fire and indoor plumbing. Her shoes caked with mud, she tried without much success to clean them before stepping onto the porch. She desperately need to get inside, and didn't want whoever lived there to turn her away because she might soil his carpet. Pulling her damp hair back from her face, she took a small breath for courage then forcefully knocked on the door. And waited. She was about to knock again, when the porch light came on and a small view port opened in the wooden door to reveal little of the cabin's occupant. The voice, however, was most definitely male.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

His tone was more curious than threatening, and somehow, Jessica thought, strangely familiar.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but my car broke down and I need...." Before she could finish the sentence, the door swung open with a force that almost knocked her over. Momentarily stunned, Jessica's first impulse was to turn and run, but she froze in mid flight when she heard the stranger say her name.

"Jessica? Is that you?"

Jessica forced her eyes to focus on the man who stood not more than two inches in front of her. The light from the cabin was casting a glow behind his face, but she instantly recognized him . She'd know those hypnotic blue-gray eyes anywhere, or in this case, the middle of nowhere. She almost literally peed in her pants.

"What the hell are you doing here?" his voice was full of astonishment..

"Getting totally drenched at the moment, Greg. Mind if I use your bathroom? We can play twenty questions later."

"Oh, yes. Of course. Down the hall to the left."

Jessica's need to relieve herself was more urgent than her desire to talk to her old college boyfriend. She dropped her umbrella and ran past him, briefly noticing the numerous books on the shelves that lined an enormous stone fireplace blazing invitingly.

After she flushed the toilet, Jessica paused for a moment in front of the mirror. Gary White, she thought, It's been over twenty years, and he looks as good as he did in college! I, on the other hand, look like a drowned rat. She used a towel from the rack to dry her thick matted black hair and pulled it back away from her face. Her reflection didn't show any signs of fatigue. In fact, her blue eyes shown with a sparkle she hadn't seen in years. She reached into her pocket and quickly applied "Sunset Delight" to a sly grin forming on her lips.

He had been a last minute invite to an end-of-semester party her Junior year at New Paltz State. Greg stayed long after the last guest had left. They shared the remainder of the wine, smoked the last joint and explored each other's bodies in the slow, intense drug-enhanced way that made even the slightest touch orgasmic. He left before the sun came up and Jessica never saw him again, until tonight. Tiny flutters in her stomach recalled sensations her mind had forgotten years ago.

"C'mon, Jessica" she said aloud, "Cut this out. You're not in school anymore. He probably has a wife and a couple of kids."

"No wife. No kids either." An amused voice answered.

In her hurry, Jessica forgot to close the bathroom door, and Greg had heard every word. He stood in the doorway, two glasses of red wine in his hands. As Jessica reached for one, Greg's fingers brushed against hers, sending a shiver through her which wasn't caused by the damp clothes. The stomach flutters she felt earlier instantly flashed to more intimate parts of her body. She felt her nipples pressing against her flimsy wet shirt and her face reddened when she noticed he'd noticed too. She took a long sip of her wine.

"I think you need to dry off by the fire. Then you can tell me how you found me."

"I didn't know you were hiding." Jessica smiled warmly.

She followed him into the living room and made herself comfortable on the rug. He sat a polite distance away from her and they spent the next hour in friendly conversation about Jessica's life since college. She noticed Greg avoided discussion of himself, and any mention of their one night together, or why he had never called since. The warmth of the fire and the effects of the wine were beginning to erase any hurt feelings she might have harbored as she studied the man she'd only known for a brief time in her youth.

It wasn't only his eyes that were distinctly Greg's, she thought, but his strong neck, muscular shoulders and full, thick blond hair which hadn't changed since she'd seen him last. Looking at his sensual lips, and masterful hands, she also recalled how wonderful he'd tasted and felt that one night so many years ago when he had taken control of her in every way. The air was filled with sexual tension as she tried desperately to deny her growing passion. Talk was becoming difficult, but she forced herself.

"I noticed you have quite an impressive library. You hide out here to read?"

"Actually, most of these books I've helped write. I'm a ghost writer for about a dozen authors See, there's my desk and my typewriter.."

"Really? I'm amazed."

"That I'm a writer?"

"No, that you still use a typewriter. Haven't you heard of computers?"

"Yeah, but I don't like them. I'm an old fashioned kind of guy."

Greg gallantly refilled her glass and lightly kissed the back of her hand before handing her the glass. The brilliance of the fire reflected in his eyes created an intense, hypnotic heat of their own. Jessica put her glass down, and knelt before him. She slowly ran her fingers through his hair, leaned over and began kissing him lightly on his neck. Her lips caressed the roughness of unshaven skin as they made their way towards his hungry mouth. He parted his lips invitingly, and she entered without hesitation.

Greg's skillful fingers unbuttoned her blouse, his tongue followed the path of the opening until he removed the flimsy garment. Jessica felt the flames of the fire on her naked back. The heat raced through her as Greg's fingers traced tiny circles over her warm skin while his mouth imitated the patten on her responsive breasts, licking each delicate nipple to full hardness.

Her body drenched with the longing for him, she deftly unhooked his belt and freed his cock from the confines of his jeans. She lowered her mouth onto him, first gently licking the delicate flesh beneath his growing hardness, then taking him fully into her mouth. Her lips surrounded the tip, her tongue teasing the tiny opening, hungry for the sweetness of him. With every taste, she felt another log being thrown onto her internal bonfire, even as the juices flowing from her threatened to extinguish the flame. She wanted to devour him, but he forced her to slow down just before she succeeded.

"No, not like this." he gasped and backed away.

Greg removed his pants in one swift movement, his shirt in another. The tiny hairs on his chest were sparkling with moisture. Never talking his eyes from her glowing body, he lay her back onto the soft, plush fleece, drew her legs around him and slid effortlessly into the satin smooth entrance to her soul.

Lying naked on the fur, Jessica felt as if the animal skin were her own, Her primitive instincts came alive with the cravings of a wild, untamed animal. Jessica arched her back, meeting each delicious powerful thrust with her own. A deep growl escaped from her throat as her orgasm swept over her. She drenched his cock, his balls and the furry white rug with her come just as he filled her with his own.

The fire and their passion burned white hot. Wooden logs and the lovers in front of them, exploded in a fireworks display of spark and ash. Greg held her to him, their bodies glowing brighter than the fire behind them. They made love until nothing was left in the fireplace but cold, gray ash.

The first rays of the morning sun reminded Jessica of the reason she had ventured into the woods. She asked Greg to use the phone.

"It's on the wall. I think it still works. Haven't had to use it in awhile." he told her.

"I can see that."

Her legs still shaky, Jessica stumbled a bit as she walked across the room. She picked up the receiver and manually spun the dial on the old fashioned phone. Jessica apologized to the association president for missing their meeting and said she would be on her way in a short while to interview him personally.

Greg walked her to the car to make sure it would start. Fortunately, the engine had time to dry, and it came to life on the first turn of the ignition.

"It was so good to see you again, Jessie." Greg said somewhat sadly.

"I'll stop by when the interview is over," she told him. "Now that I found you, I have no intention of losing you again."

The meeting only lasted an hour and could have easily been reported by phone, but then she would never had found Greg. Strange, though when she mentioned her old college friend living only a few miles away, no one knew who she was talking about. Guess farmers and writer's don't have much in common, she thought, as she drove her car back to his cabin.

After phoning in the story to her editor, Jessica navigated her way back as if she had driven the dirt road all her life, only this time she didn't stop at the side of the road, but drove right up the driveway. Things sure looked different in the light of day, she thought walking up to the porch. I had no idea this place was so run down when I saw it last night.

Jessica knocked on the door and waited. When there was no response, she knocked again, harder this time and the door creaked opened.

"Greg?" she called into the doorway. "Greg, are you here?" Jessica cautiously opened the cabin door. What she saw when she stepped inside made her gasp in shock. Dust and cobwebs were everywhere and the cabin looked as if no one had lived there for years. Jessica checked outside to make sure she was at the right cabin, then she spotted her umbrella on the porch. She was about to phone the police when she spotted a piece of paper sticking out of the typewriter on Greg's desk. With shaky hands, she picked it up and began to read:

Dear Jessie,

Exactly twenty seven six years ago, I experienced the best evening of my life with a very special lady. The next day, I rented this cabin and was going to ask you to spend the weekend and possibly the rest of your life with me. But on my way to see you, my car went off the mountain and exploded. They couldn't identify the body so my death was never reported. You're a reporter, Jessie. Please write my obituary and let my parents and family know what happened. I hope last night made up for my not calling you. Don't try to find me, you won't.

I told you, I'm a ghost writer. Love for eternity, Gregory..