My Dick Is Haunted 5
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"So, if I've been a ghost my whole life, that means I was never a haunted man."
"That's right, son. The last thing your father said to you - right before the train hit him and exploded him like a meat bomb - was a lie. There's no such thing as haunted men. Only ghosts. And the only true way to find out if someone is a ghost is to... uh... wrestle with them. Like the way me and your dad did. If the wrestling makes him get hard and shoot his spooky, ghostly seed all over your tits, then he's a ghost. If he's isn't, he doesn't get hard. He just pisses on you."
That made perfect sense. I learned in my sex ed class that pissing in a woman's forbidden lady hole is how you get her pregnant.
"But what about ladies? How can I tell if a lady is a ghost like you are?"
"Um.... well, it's complicated. Women ghosts are extremely rare, and they're known as 'squirters' But getting them to squirt isn't easy. It takes practice."
"So... what do I do now, mom?"
"It's simple. You're a ghost, Billy. You need to find a house and haunt the fuck out of it."
Most ghosts haunted spooky places like abandoned warehouses or dilapidated, boarded up old homes, but I felt like doing something different. I lived just a few doors down from Shelly Skellton, the most beautiful and popular chick at Florida State. We were both home for the summer, so I had the perfect opportunity.
I picklocked her front door and spookily snuck up the stairs. I tiptoed into her room. She was sleeping like an angel. But she wouldn't be an angel for long - soon, she would be possessed by my ghostly soul.
I eerily, scarily slid the covers off her, I turned on the lights and said "BOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!"
She woke up and saw me standing there, naked and hard as a rock.
She screamed bloody murder, wrapped the bedsheets around her, and ran out of the room. Damn, I thought. I really am scary.
"MOM! DAD!" she screamed. "THERE'S A GHOST IN MY ROOM!"
To be continued...
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