A Little Ghost Story

[jamiep]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, everyone - here’s my little twist on an old, yet familiar tale for this time of year.  I hope you enjoy -



A Little Ghost Story



Strange things happen to all sorts of people on a daily basis.  Sometimes, those things that happen cannot be easily explained, and yet still happen.  Well, my friends, one very strange things happened to me the other night and you probably won’t believe it, but it’s true!



It was a Friday night and as usual, we went out to one of our local establishments for a few rounds after work.  It had been an especially difficult week, so we were all looking forward to a relaxing evening and the pleasure of each others company.  This week, however, I needed to be the straight man as I was the designated driver.  Hey, it happens and this week was my turn.  And even though I did most of the difficult work for the week, I accepted my role completely and willingly.  So when our waitress came to the table and all of my friends ordered drinks, shots, and pitchers, I ordered diet coke - straight.



As the evening wore on, I noticed an unfamiliar face at the bar.  I had never seen her here before and began to ask my friends about her.  She seemed all alone as she sat on the stool slowly sipping her beer.  My friends, a little woozy from several drinks, told me every girl in the bar was a Miss America, so they were of no help.  Summoning up my courage, I decided to meet this beautiful lady at the bar.



“Hi,” I began as I approached the bar and motioned to the empty stool next to her.   “Mind if I sit here?”



“No,” she replied rather cooly, “it’s a free country.”



“”Are you waiting for someone?  A friend?  Boyfriend?  Girlfriend?”



She stared at me with deep, cobalt eyes that seemed lifeless.  A shiver ran down my spine, but I decided to be a gentleman.



“No,” she said, “I just came in for a drink.”



“What are you having?”



“Guinness.”



“Good choice - barkeep?  Another round for the lady please - on me.”



“Thanks,” she said, still a little coldness in her voice.



We sat there drinking our drinks for a few minutes, neither one of us saying anything.  I felt the uncomfortable silence and decided to go for broke.



“Look,” I began again, “I don’t usually do this - pick up girls in a bar or anything - you just looked lonely and I thought you’d like some company.  If you want me to leave, I will.”



“No,you can stay.  It’s the time of year - Halloween - I don’t ever get it.  Celebrating ghosts, ghouls, goblins with candy and costumes.  It all seems so pointless - it’s not real.”



“Oh, it’s a tradition that goes back a long way to help celebrate the harvest.  You see...........”



“I know the history - I just wonder how the candy came along.”



“Hm.  I don’t know.  Um - do you - I mean - would you - that is - like to, uh, dance?”



“Sure - I’d love to.”



There.  She finally warmed up a little and I felt something special was going to happen.  We went to the floor, much to the delight of my friends who egged me on with insults and the like, but I managed to ignore them - a little.  And to my surprise, we danced quite well together.  We began to dance the next several songs - slow dances, fast dances, you name it.  I was having a great time.



Eventually, the evening was getting late.  My buddies needed to go home and in their condition, I needed to drive.  I looked at the girl I had been spending the last couple of hours dancing with and realized I didn’t know her name.



“Look, I have to drive my buddies home, but it won’t take long.  Can you wait here while I get these drunks home?  I’ll only be about 30 minutes - that’s all.”



“Sure.  I can wait. “



“Um, this is awkward, but I don’t even know your name...”



“Francine.  Francine Simonson.”



“Francine - I like it - I like it a lot.  My name is Bob.  Bob Cameroon.  Look - I’ll be right back.”



I quickly herded the guys into my van, took each of them home, walked them inside, and went to the next house.  Eventually, I dropped off all five buds and drove back to the bar.  As I drove up, Francine was waiting for me on the outside steps.  I pulled up close and she just walked to the door and got in.



“Well hello, beautiful, “I said rather uncomfortably.



Boy, that was dumb.



“Bob,” she said, “can I be honest with you?”



“Sure,” I said anxiously.



“I want to spend some more time with you, but it’s late and I only have a couple of hours.  Is your place close?”



“Right around the corner.”



“Good.  Let’s go.”



As we drove to my apartment, she told me she was into some kinky stuff.  I asked her what she was into thinking this might lead to a night of really unbridled passion and she told me she could only get hot if both of us were diapered.



Diapered?  Wow!  How did she know I was into wearing diapers and plastic pants.  This was too cool to be real.  I opened up with my fetish and we excitedly talked.  It seemed a lot was discussed in that ten minute drive home, but we could not think we were two more perfectly matched people.



We rushed into my apartment, impatiently kissing and hugging all the way.  We got to my room, stripped, and I pulled out my stash of cloth diapers and plastic pants.  I diapered Francine in a pink diaper with cute yellow bunny diaper pins and pink animal print plastic pants. She diapered me back with  a white diaper and blue plastic pants with blue turtle diaper pins.



For the next 90 minutes, I made some of the most passionate love I had ever made to a woman and she seemed to respond in kind.  We even managed to wet ourselves and changed each other with the same colors of diapers and plastic pants as well as the same pins.



Soon, however, Francine announced she had to go, so we reluctantly put on our clothes over our diapers. We giggled at the prospect of going out in public wearing them as they would be so obvious under or jeans but decided to do it anyway.



She gave me directions to her house which was kind of close by.  She told me she still lived with her parents and it was a close knit family.  I marveled at the fact that she lived so close and I never knew it.  I pulled into her driveway, walked her to the door, we kissed good night, and I left as she went inside and closed the door.  



I began to drive home when I noticed something on the passenger seat - it was her purse.  So I turned around and went back to a now very dark house.  It was late, but I knew she would need the purse, so I knocked on the door and rang the bell.  It took a few tries, but an outside light went on and a man appeared at the door.



“Young man, do you realize how late it is?”



“Yes sir, and I’m sorry.  Are you Mr. Simonson?”



“Do I know you, son?”



“No sir, but I know your daughter Francine.  I just dropped her off.  We met in a bar close by?  We just spent the evening together?  Well, anyway, she left her purse in my van.  I just wanted to return it.”



All this time, Mr. Simonson had a creepy look of shock on his face.  He slowly took the purse, looked inside, pulled out the wallet, looked inside, and began to cry.



“Sir?  Are you all right?”



“Son, I am so sorry.  I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, but you also didn’t spend time with Francine, at least not my daughter.  This sure is her purse, and I don’t know where you got it.  But my daughter has been dead for several years now.  Please go away and stop torturing us.  Go before I call the police.  GO!!!!!”



And he slammed the door.



I went back to my van, very puzzled, and began to drive home.  I had to pass the local cemetery on my way and as I did, a strange force drew me inside.  I drove around for a while when my van unexpectedly stopped.  I got out and began to wander around the headstones.  Soon, I eventually came across a large one and I looked at the nam - FRANCINE SIMONSON!  She had been dead almost seven years!



I looked down and there upon the ground in front of the headstone, folded very neatly and piled quite nicely were the diapers, plastic pants and pins she wore earlier that night!



THE END



(http://unclegadget.com/UncAds/Electronics2.jpg)