I felt a whiff of breath on my neck. There were goose bumps. They had erupted over my neck as blisters would sprout after contact with a hot iron bar. The only difference being that the breath which made contact with my skin was cold....as cold as cold could be....it was frozen air, frightful, as if someone just dipped my bare skin into a smoky lake on a frosty winter night.
As her breath caressed my nape, i felt aroused. I hadn't experienced anything like it before. My heart seemed to have found its own pace and my mind had transitorily dumped my body. I let her kiss me. She pressed her lips deep into my ears and explored my mouth. I wanted it to go on and on. But i knew i had to do something to make this stop. This was against the law of the nature. A ghost and a human aren't supposed to get physical. Yet, oblivious to this seemingly frivolous law, we clung on to each other, our body wrapped onto each other, we sucked pleasure as life embraced death, the living embraced the dead.
The night witnessed our foreplay and the cloud covered the moon's eye. After an eternity, we let go. Exhausted, we just lay over the tomb living the bygone hours again and again and savouring the moments.
It was through a chance encounter that i met her. I am conscious of the fact that I am unlikely to meet her again. She belongs to a world entirely different from mine, and no matter how much it pains me, i will have to let her go.
As she robed herself and looked set to go, i planted a goodbye peck on her forehead.
Early morning rays had begun to stream in. The moment of painful parting was upon us. I couldn't stifle a tear, but she was an embodiment of stoicism, completely impassive and restrained.
She walked over the threshold of my home and disappeared. I looked back fondly and trudged over to my coffin. This was the first time I had made love to a human.
Update: This story has been featured in the July, 2013 edition of e-magazine ‘Storizen’.
July edition- http://issuu.com/storizen/docs/july2013My story- http://issuu.com/storizen/docs/july2013/64