Pirates and Disney Princesses

This is my entry in the 2014 Halloween story contest. It's my first contest entry, so please be gentle.

*

Erin stepped just outside the back door of the costume rental shop to cool down in the crisp fall air. Damn, it got hot and sweaty in that laundry room. On top of helping customers find costumes, the self-proclaimed "Irish washerwoman" got to wash every costume that returned from a rental. With Halloween being on a Friday, costumes had been going out and coming back all week, but she'd been too busy helping dozens of people dress as pirates or Disney princesses to have made much of a dent in the laundry. The bulk of the rentals had gone out tonight, and more would go out on Saturday. That meant that when she came to work Monday, she would be greeted by load upon load of Elsas and Annas, Alices and Mad Hatters, Scarecrows and Cowardly Lions, countless other characters and creatures, and all six of their "Dumb and Dumber" suits—all waiting to be sorted, pre-treated, washed, dried, and put away.

She took a deep breath that turned into a yawn. It had been the busiest Halloween day they'd ever had. She'd been running from the time the shop opened at 11 a.m. until 7 p.m., when she'd gladly locked the door behind all the customers and the rest of the staff. Since she had no plans for Halloween night, she had stayed late to wash and dry a couple more loads from earlier in the week before the motherlode hit on Monday.

Now she began to feel the chill of late October on her bare arms and legs. Getting to wear the costumes at work was one of the best parts of the job. Her outfit for the day was a low-cut peasant blouse with a short green skirt and a brocade bodice that laced up the front. It gave her B-cup breasts more noticeable cleavage, and showed off her long, toned legs that finished at the bottom with her signature green sneakers and mismatched socks.

Erin had always been immune to peer pressure and current fashion. Her friends never knew from day to day whether she would look goth, jock, hipster, preppie, steampunk, or hippie. She even managed to stand out in her Catholic school uniform, adding such touches as a vintage sweater, an oversized man's shirt, combat boots, dramatic makeup, or a wild hair style or color. Right now, her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair sported a few deep purple streaks and was sloppily pulled up with an octopus clip.

The buzzer on the dryer was her cue to go back inside. As she pulled the back door shut and locked it, she thought she saw movement flash in front of her. She watched carefully for a few minutes before deciding that it was just her fatigue. She was not one to be easily spooked.

She picked up her laundry basket and pulled out the dry clothes. She moved her last load from the washer to the dryer, thankful that in a half-hour her long day's work would be done. She stretched her lithe body all the way up and then down to her feet. Though she no longer danced, yoga and Pilates kept her flexible. As she stretched her back with her head down and bent hands grazing the floor, she peered between her legs and again thought she saw movement behind her. This time, it looked like something had brushed past the clothes on one of the racks. She stood back up and looked around at the racks of clothes, but all seemed still again.

Oh, what the hell, she thought. It wouldn't hurt to check. She walked from the back toward the front door of the darkened shop to make sure it was locked, calling, "Hello? Is someone here?"

A faint whisper answered, "Erin, don't be afraid. I'd never hurt you."

Now she felt a little ill at ease. She whirled around, looking for movement while trying to discover what direction the male voice, which sounded vaguely familiar, was coming from. "Where are you? Who are you?"

This time, the voice was right behind her as it replied, "Someone who knows you and cares for you very much."

She gasped as she felt a strong arm wrap around her from behind and a hand close gently over her mouth. She struggled and tried to scream, but his arms held her tight. Now she could feel the breath on her ear as he said, "Shhh... Please don't be afraid. Trust me."

She wasn't sure why, but she did feel she could trust him. She took a deep breath and he could feel her calm, so he removed his hand from her mouth. Now both arms were around her, holding her lovingly, and she felt him nuzzling her neck. Instinctively she found herself leaning back against a lean but muscular body, about six inches taller than she was. It just felt...right somehow.

"Good, just relax," he breathed. "That's my good little Erin-Go-Braless."

"MIKEY??!!" she squealed. And for the first time in her 23 years, Erin fainted.

**************************************************

There was only one person who had ever dared to call her by that name. Michael Hugh Evans. She had known him for as long as she could remember. They lived in the same neighborhood, and their mothers were best friends, so they had played together as toddlers. They both went to St. David's Elementary, and then on to St. Patrick's High School.

He had given her that name in seventh grade, at the school St. Patrick's Day dance. Erin O'Malley was especially proud of her Irish heritage, and wore her green Erin Go Bragh T-shirt that day. What she DIDN'T wear was a bra. While she had gained most of her 5'8" of height by that time, she had yet to blossom much on top. Mikey slow-danced with her and felt her budding nipples touch his chest.

He grinned at her and said, "Your shirt should say Erin-Go-Braless!"

She pulled away from him and stomped off in a fury. She completely ignored him for the rest of seventh grade and through that summer. She grudgingly acknowledged his existence through their last year at St. David's, and actually said "hi" when she saw him the summer before high school.

Some people are said to have a "love—hate" relationship. Their relationship had been far more complex. It was more like a "hate—disgusted with—annoyed by—indifferent to—secretly admiring—hanging out with—liking—liking THAT way—lusting after—and finally love" relationship. And they invariably ended up at different places on the continuum at any given time.

By high school, they began to travel in different circles. He morphed from Mikey to Mike, made it onto the track and swimming teams, took science and math, and liked computer and role-playing games. She was involved in dance and theatre, took poetry and psychology, and was interested in astrology and ancient Celtic mythology. She played flute in the orchestra, while he played trumpet in the marching band. The only subject they shared an interest in was history, and they often found themselves in the same classes, where they would argue, banter, bicker and flirt. She talked him into taking Art History, while he goaded her into History of Scientific Discovery.

He was good-natured and openly admired her, which she mistook for sarcasm and returned to him tenfold. He thought it was cute, which made her furious. Meanwhile, he noticed how nicely her breasts had filled out and gawked at her sexy little ass. He had taken up competitive cycling, and seeing his beautifully muscled legs in shorts made her heart beat faster. But he never asked her out for fear she would reject him. And she sulked because he never asked her out.

After graduation, she stayed home and went to the U to study theatre, while he was off to Johns Hopkins as a pre-med student. They saw each other every summer, but one or the other always seemed to be attached. They still had many mutual friends, and often both would end up hanging out with a group at a bar or coffee house. They developed a comfortable friendship and enjoyed their shared conversations. But still it never came to more than that, until about three months ago.

Her mother Pat and his mother Gwen had remained best friends for all those years, and Erin would ask about Mike whenever she ran into Gwen. The last time she had seen Gwen had been this past summer—at Mike's funeral.

**************************************************

As Erin worked her way up through the foggy darkness, her sense of touch was the first to register. She felt a cool washcloth on her forehead and her hair falling over her bare shoulders. She noticed cold air on her breasts, as strong hands massaged them. She felt herself cradled in his arms as she sat on his lap, and she snuggled further into his chest. When she moaned softly and finally opened her eyes, she was sitting on the floor in the front area of the shop, in front of the large three-way mirror. It was dark, but the streetlights shone in the front window of the shop, casting deep shadows and shallow fragments of light on the mirror. She gasped when she realized that while she could feel him gently holding her in his arms, there was no evidence of him in the mirror. Was she dreaming?

Still groggy, she looked back over her shoulder and whispered, "Mikey? Is it really you?"

His lips softly brushed hers, then he replied, "Yep."

"But you're....."

"Dead? Yeah."

"So you're a .... a....."

"Ghost? Yeah."

Erin frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be floating around, a pale amorphous blob, going 'Ooooh...wooo....?'"

Mike laughed—that deep, infectious laugh that made Erin smile too. He squeezed her affectionately as he said, "Well, obviously, that's not how it works in real life. Or I should say, in real death."

She giggled at his morbid sense of humor, then asked, "But how.....? Why.....?"

"Hey, you know your Celtic mythology. You've read that on Halloween, the veil between worlds is thinner, and spirits can pass through? Well, it's true."

"But why did you come back? And why come here?"

"You know how they say that ghosts hang around when they have unfinished business? That's true too. I came here for you—you are my unfinished business."

"Wha......"

He silenced her questions with a kiss, deep, passionate, and probing, which she answered with her own smoldering desire. Their tongues tangled, their lips roving and teeth lightly nibbling, while their breaths came in sighs and soft moans. Erin felt his hardness growing where she rested on his lap, and realized that her panties were wet and touching his bare leg.

She wanted him and couldn't wait to put her arms around him, but suddenly she became aware that she couldn't lift her arms or move her hands. She yanked her lips from his as her eyes snapped open. Her eyes widened as she looked in the mirror and saw that he had pulled her blouse and the shoulder straps of her bodice down almost to her elbows, restraining her arms and baring her breasts. As her eyes continued down, she discovered that he had tied her wrists together with a long strip of satin from the sash drawer.

"What the fuck? You tied me up?"

He held her tighter, deciding it wasn't safe to release her just yet. He kissed the back of her shoulder as he said, "Sorry. I just wanted to be sure you wouldn't beat the crap outta me, like you did in fifth grade."

"You deserved that, asshole!" she sputtered. "Besides, you were a big pussy. I didn't hit you that hard."

"Yes you did," he laughed. "You took after me like that Ralphie kid in 'A Christmas Story' when he finally lets loose his anger on Scut Farkas."

"What did you expect? You ran past me on the playground and grabbed my ass! UNDER my skirt! And I'm the one who had to stay after school for fighting."

"Yeah, and I got a stern lecture from Sister Mad Dog about how touching girls in certain places was a sin. I almost pissed my pants trying to keep from laughing."

He laughed again at the memory, and Erin grinned in spite of herself. He tried giving her puppy dog eyes, and then felt stupid realizing that it didn't matter, since he was invisible. "If I untie you, do you think you can calm that Irish temper and forgive me?" He paused. "Or do you get off on being tied up?"

Erin's momentary visualization made her shiver, and a coy smiled slipped onto her face. "Yeah, once in a while," she admitted. "But this doesn't seem the right time, so I'll forgive you instead."

"Thank you," he said sincerely, as he untied her hands and massaged her wrists.

She stared into the mirror again, and saw the slight indentations as his invisible hands cupped her breasts. Her nipples moved back and forth, seemingly on their own, at the same time as she felt his thumbs stroking them. They already were as big and as hard as marbles from the cool air, and his caress was so divine it almost hurt. She moaned and leaned back into him once again, but still couldn't raise her arms.

Looking up in his direction again, and then to the clothes restraining her elbows, she said, "Ummm....."

"Oh, yeah," he chuckled. "Well, there's no point in pulling them back up, so we might as well take them off, right?"

Before she could reply, he began unlacing her bodice. She was a bit unnerved as the laces appeared to move backward through the grommets on their own. His unseen fingers made quick work of it, and then he helped her pull her arms out of the shoulder straps and tossed the garment aside. His next quick move was to simply grab the bottom of her blouse, pulling her arms upward with it so that it came easily over her head and then her arms. It joined the bodice in the pile on the floor.

In moments, his hands were mauling her breasts, and Erin could see the deeper indentations as she gazed in the mirror. Magic mirror, she thought, as she shivered and moaned at his touch.

"Damn, these puppies sure grew up to be beautiful!" he cried. He wanted those nipples in his mouth, and the excitement coursing through his body made his cock jump again.

Erin felt it too, and for the first time realized he was naked. Well, duh! Why would he need to wear clothes if he was invisible? Since she couldn't see him, she feared that she would move wrong and sit on his cock at a bad angle and hurt him. He seemed to have the same fear, putting his hands around her small waist and lifting her off his lap to sit beside him.

She could hear small movements as he adjusted himself. Then he turned her to face toward him, pulled one of her long legs around the other side of his body, and moved her back onto his lap. She was now straddling him and could feel that his cock was captured safely between his legs. He groaned as he felt her now soggy panties so close to his cock. Then he fell on her breasts again, taking one in each hand. With her back to the mirror, Erin could now focus entirely on the sensations. One of his hands cupped a breast as he went straight for the nipple with his mouth, while the fingers of his other hand toyed with the other nipple. At first, he ran just the tip of his tongue over the large, hard nub, teasing it to grow even bigger and harder.

Erin sighed loudly, and managed to find his chest, sliding her hands up through the soft hair. She had almost become accustomed to invisible arms, legs, lips and tongue, but invisible hair was another fun surprise. She continued up to his neck, clasping her fingers together behind it so she could lean back and just enjoy his attention to her nipples. She found that if she closed her eyes, she could visualize the Mikey she remembered in the flesh.

His tongue was now flat, moving over the nipple and the entire areola in slow, lazy circles. At the same time, the palm of his other hand was opened flat and skimming over that nipple with the lightest of feathery touches. Erin marveled at his coordination, and then remembered that as a kid he was the only one on the block who could do the "pat your head and rub your tummy" trick. She smiled, remembering him at that age, but the thought was chased away by the very grown up Mike now sucking enthusiastically on her nipple, while carefully pinching and pulling on the other one, sending twin lightning bolts directly from her nipples to her pussy. She spread her legs wider and wrapped them around him, rubbing her aching pussy as close as she could to his erection. She could feel it struggling to get free from his legs.

She unclasped her fingers and moved them momentarily into his soft black curls, lifting his head slowly from her tit as he whimpered like a puppy. Hooking her left leg behind his back, she swung her right leg out from behind him and rolled off his lap onto the floor. Erin lay on her back and lifted both legs straight up in the air, making an "L" shape of her body. Mike watched, hypnotized, and she lifted her ass a few inches to pull her panties from beneath it. Then slowly, tantalizingly, she dragged them up what seemed like endless legs, pulling them over her feet and sending them to the pile with the rest of her clothes.

Mike got into the spirit, seizing the hem of her skirt and pulling it out from under her ass and up her legs more quickly. At the top, she pulled one foot through, then used the other foot to fling it at the growing pile. Then she bent her knees and pulled them to her chest to take off her shoes. Erin was now naked except for one pumpkin sock and one spider sock.

At the sight of her sweet, shaved mound, Mike snapped out of his daze and dove between her legs. As he buried his face and embraced the scent of her musk, Erin objected and tried to sit up.

"Hey, wait a minute! I'm loving this, but I want to touch you too."

He reluctantly pulled back, wiping her nectar off his face and then sucking it off his fingers. He came up on his knees, and helped her to the same position. Erin knew they were face-to-face, only inches apart. She was quickly learning to sense his presence and to feel the warmth radiating off his body. I've always heard that ghosts are supposed to feel cold, she thought. Meh, just another pleasant surprise.

He took her hands in his and held them for a moment, then lifted them to his mouth. First he kissed the back of her hands, then his lips moved sensually to her knuckles. Finally, he opened her hands and held them palms up, licking one, then the other, from her fingertips to the end of her palms. Erin gasped. She had never known this was an erogenous zone, but then nobody had ever done it to her before. She squeezed her thighs together tightly for fear she would come too soon.

Mike took her hands and gently placed them on either side of his face, then cupped her face in his hands, lightly stroking his thumb over her lips. She could feel him looking into her eyes as he softly said, "Erin Kelly O'Malley, I love you. I've always loved you. I came back to tell you. And I came back to make love to you, liked I had hoped to this past summer."

He pulled her to him and held her close. Her arms went around his neck and she rested her chin on his shoulder. Tears filled her eyes and then spilled over down his back as she remembered. They had run into each other early in the summer. It was a soft summer night, and the full moon was ripe with promise. They went into the Mill, the nearby coffeehouse, where they drank coffee and talked for several hours. When the talk ran out, they just held hands and looked at each other with skeptical smiles, each wondering if this was actually happening. He walked her to her car, and they kissed and held each other, neither wanting to break the magic spell.

Erin realized that Mike's tears were now flowing down her back too. His voice cracked as his memory took up where hers had left off. "After that night at the Mill, when we were by your car, I wanted nothing more in the world than to just stand there and hold you forever. But I was scheduled to leave the next day for another trip to visit yet another med school. I'd planned to go on from there to that bike race in Colorado, and wouldn't be back until late Friday night. So, I summoned all my courage and asked you out for Saturday night."

"God, I was so thrilled," Erin said, sniffling. "After all those years, I felt like we had just got to truly know each other that night. I found out what a wonderful man you were, and finally owned up to the feelings I'd had for you all along. I'm glad we were busy at the shop that week, or I'd have gone crazy with the anticipation."