Now I prided myself as a good judge of character. Ghost or not, I didn't think that he was lying.

As an analyst with my absurdly heavy work load, I never had much of a love life, not in school and most definitely not now, not with life getting in the way like this. But now, there was this devilishly handsome, politically powerful ghost right in front of me, and he found me attractive. Me!

Well who'd would've thunk it?

To fall in love with another person? I'd cast that thought of my mind faster than the speed of light. But regarding the ghost in front of me, I supposed I could give him a chance.

A ghost on the other hand is much more convenient than a living, breathing boyfriend. I mean, he -

"Sally, I hope you'll allow me to kiss you." Mr Roswell interrupted my thoughts and attempts to justify having an affair with a paranormal creature.

"Wha-? No, wait that's too fas-" the confident specter interrupted me yet again, his lips moving in fast.

I tried to dodge, but obviously failed.

I wondered how he could kiss me now, when my hand went right through him earlier

His arm grabbed onto mine. It was a soft and warm grip. More importantly, it felt real and gave me this strange feeling of security.

Maybe he could control whether he wanted to touch or go through solid objects, my mind instinctively rationalized itself again in an attempt to make sense of things.

Mmmm, he didn't taste like anything, but certainly felt warm, wet and wild.

"Mr Roswell, I-"

"Oh please," he cut me off yet again, hardly giving an independent woman like myself any choice in the matter, "call me Frank."

His lips fell upon me again, and for the first time in my life, the lack of control in this situation actually turned me on even further.

My pussy was wet again, and I wanted him to know it.