Ghost of Mine

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I lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling. I can’t sleep. I feel like someone’s watching me, but Mikey went home hours ago.

I should be alone, but I can feel someone. I can feel their eyes.

It’s not a harsh look. It’s intense, but caring in a way that I can’t really explain.

I must sound crazy – talking about how I can feel a pair of invisible eyes on me. It’s ridiculous.

I pick up my new night-time-reading book and open it on a random page. It’s a bit further in than I’ve gotten to before, but I just need something to help me take my mind off those eyes.

‘Since Mother can no longer read this while I am with my tutor, I might as well open up a bit more.’

I frown a bit – knowing I’ve missed something by skipping – and leaf a page back in the book.

‘I found the perfect hiding place for this. There is a loose brick in the wall with a cavity behind it. It is perfect. It is as if it was made for me and my journal.’

My eyebrows fly up quickly as my confusion has been cleared.
Since the next page seemed more interesting, I leaf forward again and pick up where I left off.

‘I have fallen in love. I am in love with a servant. It is like my very own version of Romeo and Juliet. Except, it is Romeo and Frank.’

My eyebrows do that same motion as before where they fly up quickly, only this time they stay up there for a little longer.

‘Mother will not approve and Father will send me away – if not kill me – if he ever finds out, so he shan't. Not only is it bad that I am in love with a servant, but another man? It would bring shame to our family name.
But as mentioned before, Mother will not read this. So I can write what I please.’


I can’t help but smirk. He sounds cocky – in a historic kinda way.

‘He is the most beautiful human being I have ever laid eyes on. And by beautiful, I mean breathtakingly sexual and sensual. If only his hair was a bit longer, he would be perfect.’

I tug my long hair behind my ears and feel kinda flattered.

‘Today, I saw him from my window. As he walked my horse across the yard, his hips swayed like nothing I have never seen a boy’s hips do before. But he is no boy, really. No, he is a man – a young man, such as myself. I can’t be much older than him.

He walked over to the beam and tied my horse up as it grazed the dew-covered grass. He started brushing its mane with a brush that is only used for my horse. He is the only one who uses it. He is the only one that Father trusts my horse with, and he is the only one I trust.

I wish I knew his name, but all I know him as is ‘Stable Boy’ or ‘Boy’. The latter is what Father calls him.

He bend down to get a bucket, and my breath hitched in my throat. I had to grab a hold of the cold glass of the window to keep my cock down. Pardon my language.

My horse stuck its head in the bucket and he laughed. Oh, how I long to hear that laugh, but sadly, it is unheard of for the son of the house to walk amongst the workers – even more so for him to talk to them.

He walked away from my horse; towards the building. He disappeared out of my sight, but I knew he would return soon. He was at the water post getting the water for the maintenance of my horse’s coat.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip in anticipation. I knew I would see him wet and sweaty in just a few moments.
I exhaled slowly and tried hard to suppress a groan.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that he was already standing by my horse with a sponge in his hands. At his first stroke of the sponge over my horse’s neck, the growl released itself from my throat. And I let it roll on for a little while – getting it fully out.
My tight pants had grown tighter.

I kept a close eye on him as he washed my horse thoroughly. My horse is full-grown, which means that each time he stretched up to reach my horse’s tall back, his loose shirt rode up. Each time, I saw his pale flesh, and each time, a gasp passed my lips.
I could not stop watching, yet it was becoming harder and harder not to reach down and touch myself.

When my stable boy bend down to wet the sponge – his ass pointing directly at me – my breath got stuck in my chest and my world started spinning.
I reluctantly backed away from my window. I could not risk being spotted during what I was about to do.

I walked back to my bed and took off my pants before I crawled underneath the eiderdown. I kept thinking of his perfect, wet skin and the way it stretched over his delicate curves as I did unmentionable things to myself.

I am in love. And it is bad.
It is so very, very bad.’


I growl, slam the book shut and place it on my nightstand before I reach underneath my sheets, into my boxers and grab my erect and leaking cock. I moan out loud.

It doesn’t take long for me to get to the point where the back of my head starts panicking about clean-up and dirty laundry.

My lower stomach is on fire, and I gasp for air as I beg for my climax to engulf me into a world of stars and blinding shades of white.

I growl, moan and thrash around as I’m overrun by pleasure. All my senses are on a high for those 10, 20, 190 seconds it takes for me to ride out my intense orgasm.

When all my muscles die and my back and ass fall back onto the mattress, my brain slowly stops spinning so I can think again. The first thought that pops into my mind is;

I just jerked off to the thoughts of a dead guy.