We laid on the bed together after our respective stories. At some point during mine, I could not really recall when Lona had closed the gap in-between us and wrapped her arms around my neck. She stroked my back with her cold hands, making soft cooing noises as I wept. I could not help it. Some wounds never really close. I felt betrayed by my parents. I felt betrayed by Cynthia. And I still wonder if maybe she did not have a point. Up until now, I had only really resisted the urge by avoiding situations where I could do it . . . Where I could kill myself . . . immediately or instantly. When I get low, it would require a lot of effort to kill myself. A lot of set up. The easiest way would probably be to fill a tub and run an extension cord and bathe with my trusty toaster. But in order to do that, I have to run an extension cord, which means I have to find my extension cord, which is under a bunch of boxes and dig through a bunch of wires, separate them out, run a bath, unplug my toaster. It would take more than half an hour to kill myself. And suicide, much like pizza, should come in thirty minutes or less.

  I did not find Lona's story particularly surprising. I had never heard of anyone who was allergic to laxatives before. That has to be a shitty situation. Haha! I'm so funny. The thought echoed through my head as I held her. She did cry into my shoulder just as I had into hers. I said before that ghosts don't really need to sleep. But they do. It is like breathing or blinking or anything else. If they think about it they can resist the urge. Lona sleeps more than any ghost I had ever met before. But she is also one of the more human ex-humans I had ever met. This is all to say, we fell asleep at some point, entangled in each other's arms. And to say that she snores. Loudly. Not that she ever believed me on that point. At one point we got into an argument about it.

  “I do not snore! I am a lady and ladies don't snore.” Lona insisted. “It's that simple.”

  “You do snore. Like a band-saw.” I countered.

  “Prove it!”

  “Prove it? How am I supposed to prove it? By recording you?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yeah!” She said pointing at me.

  “I can't record you. You're a ghost!”

  “Well, I'll, like, take a page from your book! If you can't prove it, I don't have to believe you.” She said, a smug smile spreading across her face.

  “That's . . . I! . . .” I started to form a response then I dropped it. “Yeah, that's fair. I can't prove you snore like a grizzly bear in the winter.”

  I woke up before she did. I tried to pry myself from her but she just clung to me tighter. I could raise her. She was weightless. But she was also really strong. And it would be difficult to make breakfast when she was like this. So, I might be able to move through her sometimes, but when she decided I could not, she was as solid as any wall. Or . . . Well, as solid as any person, I guess. It was really weird for a weightless person putting as much force back as I pushed with. It took her a long time to get up. When she did, her hair was plastered over her face and, frankly, all over me as well. She had a lot of hair. Well, relative to me at least. She looked up and smiled softly at me. “G'morning, John.”

  “Good morning,” I said, pulling myself from her arms. I sat up and ignored her eyes on me. I had told her my darkest secret last night and she was acting like nothing happened. I sat at the edge of the bed for a while, considering everything that had happened. Well, no use dwelling on it now. I thought, knowing full well I was going to dwell on it for the rest of the day. I got up and got dressed. Lona had not moved. Well, she had laid face down on a pillow again. I guess that qualifies as moving.

  I went to make myself breakfast, only to realize I had not been shopping and there was nothing to eat in the house. I sighed and got my keys and went out, deciding to let Lona sleep. I think ghosts have to recharge themselves somehow and sleep is the way that they do it. If a ghost goes without sleep for too long, that is when their ties to the earthly realm start to Fade. They cannot concentrate on anything. They can survive, of course. Or . . . Well, survive is not quite the right word. It is hard to say, really.

  As I was shopping, I got several texts in a row from an unknown number.

< [Number]

#: No wonder y u lyk hr so much!

10:03am

#: She is hawt af.

10:04am

I blinked at the phone, trying to make sense of what the hell this person was saying. I was still tired and annoyed. There had been no coffee and no energy drinks at the apartment, so I was left to my natural wakefulness to try and cope with reality.

< [Number]

You: Who is this and what the hell are you talking about?

10:07am

#: Its Karen dumass. Didnt u sav my #?

10:07am

#: U gav it 2 ur spooky ghost girlfrind

10:07am

You: Oh. That makes sense . . . She's not my girlfriend, damn it.

10:09am

#: [Attachment 1]

10:10am

#: u dnt paint sumthin lyk dat if ur nt interested.

10:10am

The picture she sent me eventually loaded. Apparently, Lona was awake and had sent Karen a picture of my painting of her. She chose the naked one. Because of course she did.

< Karen

You: God damn it, Lona. It's for the fucking doll. It doesn't mean she's my girlfriend.

10:14am

K: Lona n john k-i-s-s-i-n-g in a tree. 1 cums love 2 cum ⚭ [interlinked rings emoji] 3 cums a baby in a carriage

10:15am

You: I hate you.

10:17am

K: <3

10:17am

I shut off my phone screen and finished shopping. It did not take long. While I was there, I deposited the check from the casino at the ATM. That would allow me to order the doll and do a couple of other things. Maybe when she gets the doll, Lona will move in with Karen and . . . Leave me alone. I sighed deeply. I hate this.

  I got home a little bit later and put all of the food away. Lona was humming off in the distance. I could not see her but she was definitely around. She was making the bed. “Hey, Lona?”

  “Yeah?” She asked absently, still not becoming visible to me.

  “Why'd you give Karen my number? And why the hell did you send her a picture of the painting?”

  “Because she asked about your number. She wants to know more about being a medium or whatever.” She said, adjusting a pillow. “And I couldn't not send it after I told her you painted it.”

  “Why'd you send her the naked one? We have two other paintings of you fully clothed!”

  “I like the naked one the best.” She said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. I just sighed and went over to the couch, crashing down. After a moment of laying back, I picked up the laptop and ordered the doll. We got basically every feature. The advanced internal heater. The most advanced skeleton. Which isn't saying much. They don't even have proper rib cages or fucking collar bones. The custom head. I had made a composite of the paintings I had done and uploaded the picture. It was of her whole body, both full-frontal, and side, as well as her head facing forward and a profile. It was a little more detailed than they were asking for, but I was also paying almost twice as much. I chose the closest body I could, which still had breasts even larger than the ones I had painted, which were bigger than the ones she had. On the two other paintings, she had insisted that I match them to the original.

  “I like them better that way.” She had said. She was such a strange woman. Insisting I keep the mistake I made.

  After I was done ordering the doll, I put the computer to the side and turned on the television to watch something. Anything. I did not care. I did not know why I was so stressed out, but I felt absolutely wrung out. I sat back on the couch and let the noise and light wash over me, eyes not even really focused on the movie. I did not notice the soft sounds of my roommate walk over towards me. Nor did I see her, but that is because she was still invisible. Because she was conspiring. I had not thought anything of it. At least not until I felt a pressure on my thighs, which again, is really weird to describe. There is something solid there. It is pressing down on me, but it has no substance. With her sitting on me, I was brought back to reality. “Uh, Lona?”

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  “Mm?” She said, remaining invisible as she shifted on me to make herself more comfortable. I wonder how that works. Most often when I am uncomfortable, it is because blood is not getting to where it needs to be. I guess it would be mostly the same for ghosts. They expect to feel uncomfortable when sitting in certain positions for too long, so they get uncomfortable. I shook my head and focused on the problem at hand. Or, well, on thigh, I suppose.

  “What're you doing?” I asked, softly, resisting the urge to just pick her up and walk away. I had the distinct feeling that whatever was about to happen was going to be . . . A lot to deal with.

  “I've made a decision.” Her words were laced with such confidence, one might think she revealed the answer to the riddle of the ages to me.

  “Uh-huh. And what, pray tell, have you decided?” I asked, my patience remarkably thin.

  “I . . . Like, if you're not going to make a move, then I will.” She said. I felt her form shift on me and her hand on my chest. I could feel her breath on my neck and I forced my brain to stay focused and not go down the proverbial rabbit hole of thinking about how the hell that worked.

  “But I uh, you er, we . . .” I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and counted to ten. “We really shouldn't. It didn't end well the last time I dated a gho-”

I was interrupted. It was kind of hard to articulate what had happened. Something a little cold was pressed against my lips and it took me a moment to realize it was her lips. Have you ever kissed someone who had just spent the last half hour eating ice cream? It was like that, but also, like, minty? It was sharp somehow. Not painful, exactly, not uncomfortable per se, but definitely new. I, being a very strong, independent man, meekly squeaked and did not . . . Perhaps, could not . . . resist at all. I am a little ashamed to admit, that not only did I not resist, I . . . I acquiesced. I kissed her back. But it was not because I liked her, or anything. Dear God, I'm the Tsundere, aren't I?

  After about a minute or so, she broke the kiss off. I was breathless. But to be fair, so was she. Well, I mean, she did not really breathe but she gave the appearance of breathing. But given that I felt her breath, maybe that was an unjustified assumption on my part. I worked to regain control over my breathing, shivering slightly. I had never made out with an icicle before. She appeared before me, a wide grin on her face. Exasperated, I sputtered at her. “B-but, w-why?”

  “I think you wanted it.” She said, considering for a moment. “Actually, I know you wanted it.”

  “I . . . This can't work. I'm older than you. I'm going to keep aging. I-” I started to sit up and went to move her off of me but as I did so, she put both hands on my shoulders and pushed me back down.

  “You think way too much about stuff. This isn't something you're going to logic yourself out of.” She said, pressing down against me. “And I think you've walled yourself off so much that you don't think that you're . . . That you're lovable anymore. You let bad people color your entire worldview and stop you from acknowledging how you feel about things. About people . . . About me. So, I'm going to break down those walls. You're mine now. And, like, I won't put up with any of your bullshit, John.”

  “I don't . . . This is not a good idea.” I said softly.

  “Shut up.” She said. I had seen Lona upset a few times. I had seen her even get angry. I had never seen her cold, unaffectedly shut me down before. “I am your keeper now. You are going to listen to me.”

  My mind flashed to Cynthia really quick. Lona was not Cynthia. She made fun of me. She hung around because she was lonely. But Lona, at the very least, pretended to care about me. That's not fair. She's never given me any reason to doubt her.

  Did Cynthia give you any reason to doubt her? Another voice in my head countered. I thought about it. Honestly, yeah. There were a lot of red flags with the way that she treated me. I looked up to Lona who was searching my face for any sign of reactions. I broke the gaze and touched my lips with my fingers. She grabbed my hand with both of hers and pulled it against her sternum.

  “Say yes.” Her words were simple. They were not a command. They also really were not a request. They were a statement of her desire. That sounds confusing, but I promise it makes sense. I stared at her for a long time.

  “O-okay,” I said, finally, breaking our gazes and staring down at the unadorned table.

  “Oh thank God. It was like the Sadie Hawkins dance all over again.” She said, deflating against me. She was still straddling me and this really made for an awkward situation. Look, despite the fact that she has the core temperature of a cup of coffee left out all day, she is a very pretty woman and I am an idiot who is very touch starved. So, my body betrayed me, because of course it did. Just don't notice, don't notice. I honestly have not had to hide an erection since middle school. And apparently, I no longer had a knack for the skill, because she kind of jumped up a little and looked down between us and said, “Oh. Oh.”

  She wore an absolutely vulpine smirk and leaned into me again, her mouth pressing against mine. She wrapped her arms around my head and pulled me down onto the couch, causing me to shiver both from the cold of her presence and well, the fact that someone was touching me at all. I was not in the right mind to resist. I was barely in the right mind to remember that one of us definitely needed to breathe. She broke off and I gasped for breath. I could not actually see my breath, but my mouth was cold like I had been sucking on an ice cube. After a moment, I finally managed to say, “I think there's a chewing gum commercial about this.”

  “There's a commercial about kissing a ghost?” She managed to say through a giggle.

  “No, well, I mean. Maybe. But there's a commercial where someone eats a piece of super minty gum and then gets frost breath and kisses someone else and then you can see their breath.” I said quickly, realizing as every word left my lips, how fucking stupid that was to say.

  “You're cute.” She apparently found my stupidity endearing. Idiot, I thought, uncharitably. She pulled herself away from me and my hand instinctively reached for hers, but I stopped myself. This was going too far. I had to . . . I had to put a stop to it. It would be the best thing for everyone. “Take off your pants.”

  “I, uh, I-I don't think that's a good i-idea, Lona. I think . . .”

  “Oh my gawwwwd!” She said, practically falling over herself. “Stop thinking about it! You are so into me that, like . . . Karen could tell with the way you stare at me when she can't even, like, see that I'm there. You like me. You want this. And I want this. I'm going to train you to just go with it if it kills me. Now. Strip.”

  “Uh,” I stuttered and faltered under her gaze. When she wanted to be, she could be . . . domineering. Oh, fuck. She's a domme. “Y-yes, ma'am.”

  I stood up, wavering a little. My blood was elsewhere and I felt a little lightheaded. I slowly took off my clothes. It was not a titillating experience. For one, she had seen everything I had to offer before. And for two, I almost fell over when I removed my socks. After a moment, I stood there, naked widely for the first time in front of her since she poked her head into the shower on the first day she arrived.

  She eyed me, hungrily and took a step forward, her clothes literally just fading away mid-stride. She gripped my shoulder with one hand and ran the other over my chest and stomach, causing me to twitch violently. Her hand wrapped around my length and gripped it. “It's awfully rude to point, John.”

  “Fuck you,” I said, the words distorted as I snorted out the breath I had been holding.

  “That's the plan.” She retorted, grinning. She pushed me back onto the couch and straddled my hips, taking my hands in hers and resting one on her own hip and the other on her breast. “I can't believe it's been twenty years since anyone has touched me. Since I've . . .”

  Her voice trailed off as I ran my hand slowly over her stomach. She was thin and taut and there was the beginning of the definition of abs. I was mesmerized. One hand squeezed her boob and enjoyed the feeling before I started laughing. I leaned forward against her chest, barely able to breathe. She looked down at me as though I had lost it, hurt and apprehension contorting her features. Her voice was tight with barely controlled rage when she asked, “What's so funny!? Not to your liking, perv?”

  I shook my head a little and took a deep breath. It took me a few moments to get my giggles fully under control. “N-no, L-Lona. They're wonderful. You . . . They're just not warm.”

  I watched confusion play over her face before her eyes widened and she started laughing, too, pushing me back. “Shut the fuck up, jerk!”

It took us a moment to get back into the swing of things again. Fortunately, I was still . . . Being rude, standing at attention, what have you and she never moved. I gripped the back of her neck and drew her into a kiss as my hand drew back down. I rested it on her thigh, running my fingers up and down it slowly before finding the nexus of her legs. She was bare down there and I ran a hand over the cold part. She shuddered against me, letting me take the lead here. I slid my fingers over her lips and gently rubbed them, spreading them apart slightly to slide over her inner lips. As I continued, my thumb eventually finding her clit and gently massaging it, she became wet. I looked up at her and she grinned hungrily down at me.

  “You like that? When I play with your pussy?” I am not the best at dirty talk. She continued to rub against me before she collapsed against me, shuddering with either tears or laughter, I could not tell which.

  After a moment, she managed to speak, her voice somewhere between a husky, seductive whisper and breathless laughter. “Yeah, I like it when you play with my Wet Ass Ghost Pussy. Just keep rubbing my ghussy.”

  When she finished her statement we both lost it, entangled together, laughing uncontrollably. We calmed down eventually and she looked down at me. Despite or, maybe because of all of the dumb jokes and everything else, I was finally okay with . . . Everything. For the first time in a long time. She was smiling. Her dark pink lips stretched out a little bit. Her green eyes looked so vibrant. Our faces were only an inch or so apart. And then less. We kissed again and she entangled her hands in my short hair and I wrapped my arms around her.

  We continued to kiss as my hands explored her form, the gentle curves of her body. The small of her back that was slightly dimpled, over her spine, and the crux of her waist. Her thighs, her breasts, her neck. Her gender. I started fingering her again, fingers exploring her as best as I could with the angle. As I did, she pressed more and more into me. Everywhere. Into my hand, my chest, my mouth. Our tongues entangled and danced. Eventually I stopped feeling the cold and just felt her. I continued my toying with her pussy until she shuddered against my hand, breaking the kiss and laid her head onto my shoulder. It took her several minutes to calm down, her not-quite breathing steadying out. She pecked my lips again after that. “God, I missed sex. I didn't even realize how much.”

  I smiled at her, gripping her hips. I started to move her, lifting her pseudo-weightless self off of me and she clung tight to my neck and yelped, demanding,   “What do you think you're doing!?”

  “I . . . Er . . . Well, I figured we were . . . I figured that would be . . .” I trailed off.

  “Oh no, honey. We are not done. Not by a long shot.” She said reaching between us and gripped my length. It was my turn to yelp. I do not know if you have ever had an ice cube on your dick but having a poltergeist touch it is a little bit like that. She shifted her hips a little bit and pressed my head against her, causing me to shift against her, trying to resist shudders from a combination of cold and well . . . Proximity. She tightened her grip on my hair and pulled on it to give her full access to my neck. In between licks and bites she said, “I. Don't. Like. That. You. Tried. To. Deny. Me. Any of the experience.”

  On the final stretch of the sentence, she pressed down on me and I slid inside, gasping and clinging to her the entire time. She pulled me from my sitting position, laying me on my back as she rested her hands on my chest. Dear God, she really is a fucking domme. I feel kind of like a . . . A sex doll. Her toy. My lust stretched out against her walls. It was a strange feeling. Pressure with hardly any matter. It was somehow more fluid. I mean she was definitely wet, which raised questions in and of itself, but the resistance of her body was not quite that of the living. Much like the rest of her, it was not nearly as warm as normal. She began to rock back and forth. As she picked up the pace she closed her eyes and clawed at my chest. I spent my time thrusting back into her, which would cause her to jolt and clench down on my . . . well everything. Her fingers scraped down my chest, her thighs squeezed down on my hips and the rest of her tightened its grip as well. It was not long until I felt that familiar pressure build up inside of my loins, my leg started to twitch violently. I was about to come. I know, hardly an endurance record, but it had been a while, okay? I reached up to her hips and started pulling her up, off of me, trying to exit her. She grabbed both of my hands and slammed down onto my hips with all of her force. “Stop! What are you doing?”

  “I'm about to . . . you know.” I managed to say, breathlessly.

  “Good.” She said, continuing to slam down on me.

  “I shouldn-”

  “John, I swear to God, I'm a fucking ghost. I can't get pregnant!” She said, annoyance creeping into her voice, grinding her hips against me hard. I really could not hold back any longer. I shuddered against her and felt myself release into her. She moaned loudly and pressed herself down against me. I pulled her down against my chest and gripped her tightly, as I jolted, shuddered, and shivered inside of her, breathing heavily. She was also breathless. More breathless. She kissed me softly again. “See? Nothing bad happened.”

  That's when she pushed herself up a little bit and I remembered that she was a little transparent. And realized I could see . . . myself through her. She was her own hentai x-ray vision scene. Which was a little surreal.