March 23, 2005
Fiction
Lily La Rouge, or, The Ghost of Erotic Presents
If you told me I’d meet a ghost — if you told me she’d help me with my sex life and possibly save my marriage — I wouldn’t have believed you, either.
It started out with a botched hotel reservation. I was in Nevada for a writers’ convention — I write mysteries, the cozy kind with a little old lady detective — and the hotel had lost my reservation. Being in a tourist area, all of the other local hotels were booked, so in the end I was sent to a nearby town (so tiny it was almost nonexistent) which had rooms available in what they said was a former brothel. I thought it was a tacky marketing ploy.
Until I woke up in the middle of the night and met Lily La Rouge, former madame.
I knew right away she was a ghost. I could have assumed more tacky marketing and Hollywood-quality effects, but somehow, I just knew. A prickle at the back of the neck, a sensation in the pit of the stomach. I wasn’t afraid, just startled at first, and then curious. Maybe it’s the writer in me.
She fit her name well, with her shockingly red hair and lily-of-the-valley perfume. She looked as startled to see me as I was to see her.
“You can see me?” she asked. “Hear me?”
I nodded.
“Not everybody can. Usually it’s younger women. Not that you’re old,” she added hastily. “Surely you’re no older than me — well, the age I was when I was alive.”
I didn’t take much offense, really. I was in my late 30’s, which from her perspective probably was old. I’m sure life expectancies for women in the Wild West weren’t what they are today. Still, it’s not pleasant to be staring 40 in the face. I changed the subject.
“How did you die?”
“Jealous wife who knew how to shoot,” she said. She pulled the plain, wooden straight chair over from the desk and straddled it backwards, stretching the garters that clipped to her black fishnets.
“And why are you still here?” I asked. “Unfinished business? Revenge on the jealous wife?” Suddenly I was afraid that I would be a substitute for that wife.
“I’m not sure, darlin’,” she admitted. “It seems to have something to do with helping people. The women who have been able to see me . . .well, they’ve all ended up learning something from me.” She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “About pleasing their man.”
I may not be a redhead, but I felt myself blushing all over. It was as if she’d read my mind — and it took her only a few more minutes to drag the whole story out of me, the stuff I never told anybody.
Tad and I had been married for seven years (“Ah, the seven-year itch,” Lily said with a knowing nod), and sex was becoming less and less frequent for us. I was sure the problem was me. I’d never been thin, but over the past few years, a combination of age, Tad’s good cooking, and my sedentary job had led me to pack on a few more pounds. I didn’t feel sexy anymore — didn’t want Tad to look at me unclothed in bright light — and to be honest, I’d never been very adventurous in bed. Although Tad swore he loved me, that he’d never look at another woman, I had my doubts.
“You’re afraid he’ll turn to someone like me,” Lily finished my story when I faltered.
“No offense,” I said.
“None taken,” she said briskly, standing and swinging a leg over the back of the chair, a motion that startled and impressed me. “Look at me, honey. Do I look like some half-starved child to you?”
She didn’t — and I hadn’t even noticed her size before now, just that she was amazingly sexy. She was large, but she had a perfect hourglass figure that was enhanced by the purple satin-and-lace bustier she wore. She wore enough makeup to be striking, to draw the eye to her face, before your gaze was dragged down to her very impressive cleavage. She’d said she had been the most popular prostitute for a hundred miles around, and I could see why.
“Societal preferences are different now,” I said. “Your figure was popular when you were alive, because food was harder to get and a healthy woman was a well-fed woman. Now . . .”
“No,” she said. “Honey, my figure didn’t hurt my business, that’s for sure. But it’s not what kept them coming back. Get yourself out of bed.”
I did, self-consciously tugging at my faded yellow nightshirt. I hadn’t expected to share my room with anyone (much less a ghost).
Lily stalked across the room as if she owned it, hips swaying. She spun and sashayed back. “Now you do it,” she said.
I walked to the opposite wall and returned.
“You walk like you don’t want anybody to look at you,” she said.
“I guess I don’t want anybody to look at me,” I said. “Who’d want to?”
“You want your husband to,” she said. “Now, listen to me, sugar bee. It’s not about your body. It’s about how you feel. It’s about attitude.”
She retraced her steps, this time more hesitantly, her shoulders down, gaze at her feet. “See the difference?” she asked. “Confidence. You have to have confidence. Now you do it.”
With some reluctance, I got up. As I walked, she instructed me: “Shoulders up and back. Stick out that chest, darlin’ — men want to see it. Hips — walk like you’re thinking about sex with every step.”
I felt foolish at first, but the more she talked, the better I started to feel about myself. She complimented me on my legs (which, honestly, aren’t all that bad), showed me how to toss my long hair and gaze over my shoulder with smoldering eyes. Thinking about sex with every step got me really thinking about sex, and my panties (confessedly a ratty old pair, but Lily had me imagining silken ones) started to moisten.
I was definitely squirming when she let me sit back down and started giving me tips on what to do after I’d gotten Tad excited with my newfound self-assurance. After she faded away just before dawn (assuring me that she couldn’t see or hear me when she was completely noncorporeal), I masturbated for the first time in, well, years.
Lily continued my tutoring for the next two nights, and I was an eager pupil. I almost fell asleep during my own book-signing because I was getting no sleep at night, but it was worth it.
Before I checked out, I made a reservation for the same room in two weeks’ time — this time, for two people.
•
Tad and I had reunion sex when I returned home, and I had to restrain myself, keep something back so I could surprise him. Still, I think he noticed the difference in me; certainly he reacted with more enthusiasm than usual. It gave me hope.
Back at the hotel, though, I found my hands were trembling and I fumbled with my garters. Tad waited for me on the bed in Lily’s room while I changed in the bathroom. It was time to reveal the new me.
“Gently, sugar bee.” Lily appeared, perched on the pedestal sink. If she’d had a physical body, I’m sure she would have broken the plumbing. But it didn’t matter.
I’d been inspired by her outfit. My own corset was emerald green satin, to set off my dark hair and green eyes and pale skin. It was edged in lace, framing my ample d'colletage. I’d paired it with sheer white stockings, high-heeled white pumps, and a white lace peignoir trimmed with white marabou.
“Confidence,” Lily went on. “You look more than fantastic; your husband isn’t going to be able to keep his eyes — or his hands — off you. He’s a lucky fellow.”
“What if I forget what to do?”
“I’ll be there with you, honey, every step of the way.”
So my hands were more steady as I applied gloss to my lips. My skin was still great, and I didn’t need any blush. Anticipation heightened the color of my cheeks.
As a final touch, I wrapped my old quilted bathrobe around myself. I heard Lily chuckle as she faded away and I opened the door.
Tad’s eyes first registered disappointment, but then he noticed the heels. As his eyebrows started to raise, I dropped the robe. I sauntered across the room, provocatively swinging my hips like Lily had taught me. My hair swung as I looked back at Tad and slowly slid the peignoir off my shoulders, letting it dangle at waist level before dropping it to the floor. Then I turned and posed, giving him time to take in the full outfit.
My stomach churned with nervousness. What if he thought I looked ridiculous? What if he preferred his fat wife with the lights out?
By the time I’d swayed my hips back to the bed, I saw that my fear had been for naught. Tad was wearing silk boxers — how long had it been since he’d done that? I wondered, and felt a rush of adoration for him that he’d thought to spice things up as well — and his positive reaction to my outfit was making itself clearly known.
“You — you look fantastic,” he said.
I gently raked my fingernails up the length of his erection, marveling at how it twitched and how he sucked in his breath. “Thank you,” I said. And I meant it. No “Are you sure?” or “You’re just saying that.” He meant it, and I knew it.
At that point, I felt Lily slip into my head. We’d arranged this ahead of time. I was still completely in control of everything that happened, but she was just going to hang out in case I needed a little encouragement or suggestion. It felt weird, but it also made me feel more secure.
I flipped my hair over my head and trailed it up and down Tad’s chest. On my next pass down, I paused and flicked my tongue over his left nipple. His whole body jerked. We’d been married how long and I’d never known how much this turned him on? I blew hot breath over his now-wet nipple, and he tangled his hands in my hair. I suckled gently on his other nipple, feeling him squirm beneath me.
My own nipples ached for the same treatment, and I sat up and shimmied a little until they popped out of the top of the corset. Tad didn’t need an invitation. He buried his face in my cleavage, one hand on each of my nipples.
I’ve always loved having my nipples played with, but never really knew how to ask Tad to keep going. Now, however, the words tumbled from my mouth, in a voice so thick with passion that I barely recognized it as my own.
“That’s it — oh god, yes, that feels so good. Please don’t stop.”
My thighs were trembling. They were also wet. I reached down between my legs and discovered my panties (white silk, of course) were soaking wet. I dipped my fingers under the elastic, then reached up and smeared my arousal on my nipples. Tad’s nostrils flared at the scent, and then he attacked my breasts like a starving man.
When he’d cleaned them to his satisfaction — and mine — he suddenly flipped me over onto my back. I squeaked in surprise, but eagerly spread my legs. I hadn’t had time to do everything to him that I’d planned, but I was more than ready for him to enter me.
He ripped off the panties. I’d never known how erotic the sound of tearing silk could be. Once, I might have been horrified. Now, I only laughed.
Then, to my surprise, instead of entering me, he leaned down and licked me.
Oral sex was one of those things that had happened less and less between us over the years. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it until now. Tad’s tongue slid over my clit, and I was even more aware of how aroused I was. My clit felt huge. And oh god, it all felt so good.
I came faster than I ever have, even with a vibrator. One minute Tad was licking me and I was babbling something incoherent, and then next there was a huge surging inside of me, from the base of my spine to the middle of my thighs, all focusing in on my crotch. And then the surge broke wide open, and my hips left the bed as I came. Somewhere, I heard Lily cheering.
Tad’s hands were still cupped under my ass as I floated back down.
“Wow,” he said. “You’re amazing. Let’s do that again.”
I didn’t think it would be possible, but I was certainly willing to try. Just before Tad dipped his head down, he added, “Play with your breasts.”
The former me would have been too shy. The new me knew how much that would turn both of us on. I trailed my hands up my waist, over the sleek boning of the corset. As Tad watched, his eyes dark with desire, I flicked my fingernails over my still-erect nipples. My hips twitched as I did so. I rolled the buds between my thumbs and forefingers, and moaned.
Apparently Tad couldn’t bear to watch any longer. He licked me again, in long, slow strokes, dipping his tongue into the opening of my cunt and making me ache for more inside of me. When he applied steady pressure on my clit again, my next orgasm rolled through me like a steam train.
My third orgasm, completely unexpected, made me scream.
Gulping for air, I sat up and told Tad to lie down. As he did, I grabbed a couple of Altoids I’d left on the nightstand for this purpose. I’d spent the last two weeks reading up on a few techniques, too. Even Lily registered surprise, in my head, but I guess she got the idea pretty quickly, because then she chuckled and said, “Oh, honey, that’s a good one.”
By the time Tad was settled, I’d finished chewing the mints, and my mouth was full of tingly menthol goodness, which I immediately applied to his very hard cock.
My husband used words I’d never heard come out of his mouth before, but they were all extremely appreciative.
I was still a little unsure about fellatio, because I didn’t think I’d had enough practice with it. But enthusiasm, Lily told me, always made up for inexperience. Whenever I faltered, wondering what to do next, she popped up with another suggestion.
I licked Tad’s cock, then sucked it like a lollipop. I laved his balls with my tongue, eliciting another wave of verbal appreciation. I clasped my hands together and slid his cock between my palms, twisting my wrists as I went up and down. I relaxed enough to take the head of it into my throat, and thought he was going to lose it right there.
Instead, he gently pulled me away and kissed me. “As incredible as that feels, I want to come inside of you,” he said. I started to lie down on my back, but he shook his head. “Let’s try it another way,” he said.
Which is how I found myself on my knees, hands gripping the headboard. Tad paused, running his hands over my bare bottom.
“You have the finest ass, you know that?” he said. “I can’t get enough of looking at it and touching it and caressing it.” Well, so much for the negative things I’d thought about my ass. I wiggled it a little, for good measure.
Tad groaned. “But right now, I need more than that.”
He slid into me, and my cunt contracted around him. The motion was involuntary, even though I’d previously planned it. Either way, Tad gasped.
Then he started stroking in and out of me. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d done it in this position, and I’d obviously forgotten how good it felt. A couple of strong thrusts and he was nudging up against my g-spot just right. Just . . .
The headboard rattled, my cries no doubt were bothering the neighbors, and Lily was yelping her own pleasure in my head. I hoped she could feel what I was feeling — she deserved it. One orgasm tumbled into another until I heard Tad cry out and bury himself deep inside of me, jerking a few times in the perfect way to send me over the edge one last time.
We lay, spooned together, as he whispered “I love you so much” in my ear, his breath stirring my now-tangled hair. “You’re wonderful,” he said. “You’re so beautiful. I hope you know that. I hope you know that you’ll always be beautiful and sexy to me, and I’ll always love you.”
I didn’t begrudge the fact that he feel asleep soon thereafter. It’s how men are. I gently slid away from him and went to the bathroom to peel myself out of the corset. As I cleaned up, I became aware of someone sobbing.
Lily.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned. I reached out to her, where she sat on the edge of the claw-footed tub, but my hand passed through her. Of course. I’d just about forgotten she was a ghost.
“It’s not bad, sugar bee,” she said, waving her own hand. She gulped and smiled through the tears, still beautiful. “It’s good. I’m free now. You helped me find what I needed here.”
“Because you helped me?” I asked. “You did, more than you can imagine. If I have any say in the matter, I’d tell the powers that be that you’ve done your job.”
“It’s not just that,” she said. She was getting dimmer; I could see the wall behind her and the tacky print of a pair of dusty cowboy boots hanging there. “It’s love. I’ve helped other women with their sex problems, but that’s all it’s been about before. You and your man — you love each other so much. I got to experience that when I was in your head. I felt it, too.”
She wiped away the tears, decisively. “I’ve never felt that before. Now I understand. You’re a lucky woman, honey. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I won’t, Lily,” I said, and she faded away for good.
And I went and curled up in bed with my husband. I glanced at the clock. Maybe I’d wake him in a few hours for Round Two.
lives in southern California within scent of the ocean. Her stories have appeared in Best Lesbian Erotica 2005, Dyke the Halls, and Sacred Exchange. Under the name Sophie Mouette, she and a lover have cowritten stories for Best Women’s Erotica 2005 and In the Lap of the Gods. In other incarnations, she is a published writer of fantasy and romance.
