Hopeful Soul: A Phantom Story

Chapter Forty-Three.

This is a fair warning, you guys. There will be a graphic episode near the end of this chapter. If you don't want to read the fun time, you may skip it when you see the asterisks. *

Anyways, enjoy 😊

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ERIK:

At nightfall, and after a brief trip for ingredients, Christine had prepared a light supper for us - but other things plagued my mind at the moment. I had let her in on a part of my past that I intended to keep secret and the knowledge of my childhood had made her weep. I feared that if she were a mother - though she would most definitely love my child, considering how willing she surrendered during our honeymoon - she would be somewhat taken aback by a baby that looked like me. Loving the child was expected from her, but to actually look at another Erik in an infant form would be shocking - one of the many reasons I held nothing against my poor mother, though that attic would be destroyed and I would build it out of fresh material to get rid of that past.

After I finished my meal, I took my empty dishes into the kitchen to clean them off - though Christine had stopped for some unknown reason, "I will handle them, Erik."

It seemed that asking about her singing career was pointless since she was happily being a bubbly housewife - not that it upset me in anyway, only was I disappointed. I had gone through so much teaching her how to sing properly and she sets aside her precious gift to be a wife. A smile came across my face as I remembered the organ in the family room and when I stepped inside, all thoughts were racing. I imagined myself at the organ, playing melodies with a small brunette child as three other toddlers tried to sing in succession. My images ended with my dear wife, swollen with a child, and singing brilliantly from the comfort of the loveseat.

Standing beside the bookcase, I looked for a piece that we could sing together, but then remembered one - sheet music to which I had already remembered. With a grin, I sat down at the organ, "Christine?"

"Yes, dear?"

She stepped into the family room, wiping her hands on her dirtied white apron, "I want to sing with you. I must hear your voice again."

She laughed, "It has been a month."

"And for that, I will give you leeway. Please. Music is my life," smiling, I pulled her close to the organ and stood above her, my hand under her chin, "Music is how we met."

It seemed she would swoon then - indeed she heard the music again, "Alright. May I get more comfortable, though? It is rather hard to sing in a corset."

"Of course."

I went over towards the fireplace, setting in a few logs and pouring cerosine over it, "Erik, can you start a fire as well? It's getting rather cold."

I struck a match and a fire rolled up, "Already accomplished!"

Christine came downstairs in her dressing gown - the lovely, white from the opera. Nostalgia hit hard and I felt my cheeks flare up when I realized nothing was underneath, "Have I frightened the terrible opera ghost?"

"If it weren't for how badly I need your singing I would have my way with you right now," I sat down at my organ, chuckling at my comment, "Besides, I shall turn you red as well with what we are about to sing."

I played right into O nuit d'amour, which was the first song I taught her to sing. Turning around, she indeed turned red and yet slowly approached, "Faust?"

"You know I enjoy Faust. The music is soothing to the mind and speaks volumes to broken souls like mine."

She nodded, yet glanced around the organ for a moment, "Not a sheet in sight."

"I memorize most operas, my dear. Ten years under an opera makes memorization fairly easy," I removed myself from the organ, taking her hand and guiding her to the fireplace, "And now that we are in person, we may feel each other's musical passion."

Faust (Erik)-

Ô nuit d'amour, ciel radieux
Ô douces flammes
Le bonheur silencieux
Verse les cieux, les cieux
Dans nos deux ámes

Marguerite (Christine)-

Je veux t'aimer et te chérir
Parle encore
Je t'appartiens, Je t'adore
Pour toi je veux mourir
Parle... parle encore
Ah, je t'adore
Pour toi je veux mourir

Our duet was filled passion, just like it had been on stage so many nights ago. I ended it with a well deserved kiss, which the number usually stopped on, and Christine cuddled against me on our Persian rug. Music, again, was running through our veins and O felt much closer to her - closer than mating could ever get us, "Thank you, Christine."

"Music is your life, Erik. And if my career ends, I shall sing for you anyway."

I kissed her once again, her warmth greater than the fire, and reached back to close the glass on the fireplace. I found my power and laid, propped onto my elbows, just above her, the feeling of warmth becoming greater and greater and my thing swelling painfully. Christine must have realized it and let go abruptly, a smile on her face, "Can we have some decency and get off the floor?"

"Of course, my dear."

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Standing, I lifted her up and adjusted her so that the bend from hip to thigh rested on the arm of the loveseat. Christine shivered for a second, then looked back to me with a laugh, "Erik, what on Earth are you doing?"

"If you observe Zichy artwork, you know that a woman can experience much pleasure with something I am about to do," I knelt in front of her skirts and slowly rose them up to see the thing that had caused me to swell so much, "Besides, what man cannot enjoy such a pretty view."

All of her, though pink before what I had said, blushed madly. There was even a pink tinge to her bottom which I smiled at before tasting her feminine juices. She gasped in shock, reaching back to grasp my hair, "It's alright, my dear. I won't bite too hard."

She shivered as I licked all around her, grasping and unleashing my hair as I moved all about. Tangerine fruit filled my mouth and I could not stop licking at this sweet taste. Christine shivered as I continued, grabbing my shoulders in shock of my speed. I softly bit at areas of her flesh and she groaned, stretching out like my little feline. My thing was murdering me and I unfastened my trousers quicker than ever before, pulling it out of the hole of my drawers.

Christine quaked hard as I continued for a moment, then picked her and wrapped her around my waist - though I was thin, I could hold her for hours if I had to. Christine stared into my eyes as I shoved my thing inside of her, biting at her bottom lip, "What was that?" said she in a pant.

"Minetting for ladies."

She giggled, wrapping her arms around my chest, "I rather enjoyed it."

I nodded at her red, blushing face, knowing I had accomplished my goal of bringing her the utmost pleasure - but now it was my turn and I was finishing fast. I slightly bent at my hips to go faster and Christine moaned at the angle. It was pleasing, but my legs were giving out, so I rushed us up the stairs to our bed. After a moment or so more, we finished in tandem, panting at our lovely encounter.

"Goodnight, my dear. I love you."

"And I love you."