Ouija Board
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Hard As An Ouija Board free porn video
“No, bitch, I did not fucking move the thing. It moved by itself!”
“Well, what is it trying to say to us?”
A peal of thunder barked outside, and a flash of blue-white light consumed the solitary dormer window stuck in a recess of the musty attic. Accompanied by a four-part harmony of shrieks, the girls leapt in surprise. A fine misting of dust puffed up from in between the aging floorboards as the quartet made it back down into their own respective skins. Each of the girls looked at the other with their own flavor of a stunned expression. Claire would be the first one to speak, a smile cracking across her expression as she spoke.
“Holy fuck, it’s crazy that just happened, right?” Claire giggled excitedly. She reached up and wrapped her one of her redheaded pigtails around a finger. Audrey recognized this, being her oldest friend, as one of Claire’s nervous habits. Audrey took that particular gesture as a ‘win’ for her, because nobody seemed to be taking the night’s proceedings seriously – at least, not nearly as serious as she knew it was.
“Yeah, we picked the best night to be doing this,” Audrey began, “so let’s get back to it. Everyone, get your hands back on the planchet. Giselle, Hunter, come o– ”
“The planet?!” Giselle blurted, a laugh behind her words. “What the fuck? I just want to play this game. No need to get all metaphysical ‘n shit.”
“This is serious, Giselle! It’s not a game– and it’s called the planchet,” Audrey pleaded while snatching the triangular piece of balsa wood up off of the not-a-game board. She wiggled it back and forth in the round, ebony-hued face of her friend as if that was going to drive her point home. Giselle smacked away the grubby mitt in her face with an indignant look, then rolled her eyes.
“Whatever, Audrey. Let’s just keep playing this game,” Giselle muttered acquiescently.
“It’s not– okay, fine. Let’s just go,” Audrey replied as she smacked the planchet back onto the center of the board. Following her lead, the other three girls returned their first fingers to the surface of the varnished wood implement and resumed doing what they were doing earlier – sitting cross-legged, huddled around the board, waiting.
The four girls swapped between looking at each other and looking at the piece of wood. They were all waiting for it to slide in a decidedly paranormal fashion over to some meaningful symbol, letter, or word on the Ouija board. The board itself was illuminated by a singular candle that Audrey’s mother had forbade her from using in circumstances that weren’t emergencies. Audrey had made the executive decision that an opportunity to connect with the ethereal plane beyond this world and make contact with a paranormal entity was, perhaps, the definition of ‘emergency.’ After all, the city-wide thunderstorm raging outside was, as everyone knew, a veritable superconductor for spiritual chakras – or, something like that.
“This is fucking stupid,” Giselle snapped, “one of you is going to move the– oh, fuck,” the heavy-set black girl gasped as the diminutive, seemingly plain scrap of wood shuffled across the board. All four girls kept their silence as they collectively flicked back and forth between looking at the piece and the other three faces they could see, only quicker this time. Steadily, the planchet made its way toward a letter on the board.
“Okay, ‘W,’” Claire spoke up first after the planchet stopped.
“What does ‘W’ mean?” Audrey queried the group, knowing full well that they knew equally as much as she did. The platinum, hairbowed blonde looked around at her cohorts in this session of delving into the supernatural. Claire shrugged at her, then returned an ambivalent stare at the confuddling board. Giselle rolled her eyes, screwed up her face, and broke eye contact. Hunter, who had been silently following instructions the entire evening, met Audrey’s troubled gaze with her own wide-eyed visage that said more than she could.
“Let’s just keep going,” Audrey muttered. In that moment, she was rueing the fact that it was her anointed responsibility to bravely slash at the brambles of the occult and charge the entire expedition forward with the other three in tow. The four girls settled in, and the air thickened as they refocused their attention down onto the extramundane instrument being used to communicate from beyond the grave. With an eerie intentionality, the innocent three-cent wooden bauble skated across the veneer Ouija board and continued spelling out a message.
“It’s telling us ‘A’ now? I guess it’s trying to spell a word, right?” Claire squeaked as the planchet scraped across the surface of the board. The other girls responded with a collection of nods, not daring to speak a sound. Claire pressed her buck teeth into her lower lip and looked back down at the board.
“‘Want’? What does it – what do you want?!” Claire began for the group, only to shift her attention outward into the spiritual plane and call out into the cobwebbed void of the attic rafters. Audrey shook her head as if having just remembered that she left the oven on back in Ghost Town, USA.
“That’s right, we have to keep asking questions!” Audrey joined in, “how did I forget that?”
Giselle reached over and smacked the back of her knuckles against Audrey’s shoulder and mouthed a ‘duh.’ Audrey couldn’t put together if that meant she was believing in the power of the spirit realm, or if she was just fucking with her. She rolled her eyes, just to be safe. Giselle responded to that kind of gesture.
“S.. E… – okay, who’s moving this thing? It’s not funny. This is serious.” Audrey snapped as the planchet settled it’s splintered tip on the letter ‘X’ and completed the phrase that some ‘ghost’ had pressed through the fabric of reality out into land of the living in order to convey. Audrey furrowed her brow and stared at Giselle, who arched hers in response.
“You think it’s me? Look, I don’t even give a fuck. Why would I say some suspect ass shit like that? It just means I’mma have to play this game longer,” Giselle clapped with the practiced sass she had been cultivating throughout her entire senior year.
Audrey studied her friend’s face intently, waiting for her to bust up and begin her high-pitched ‘I got you, bitch’ cackle that she had similarly refined down to a savant-level talent. Hunter watched the stand-off through a faceful of bleached-silver hair that hid most of her pale, powdered face adorned with a look of amusement. Meanwhile, Claire was furiously wiggling her hands in the direction of her three cohorts in a desperate attempt to get their attention.
“Guys.. “ Claire breathed, her body writhing around side to side as her hips kicked back and forth rhythmically. Her head tilted to the side as if pushed, throwing one of her auburn pigtails into her face and the other one bouncing off the side of her head. Hunter was the first one to notice this development in the evening when she turned her mute gaze toward Claire. Her jaw fell slack at the sight of red kiss imprints materializing out of the ether onto Claire’s exposed neck.
“Guys.. “ Claire all but moaned as well-defined lipstick marks bloomed into existence, one by one, down from the lobe of her ear and down the side of her tender, sensitive flesh. As if her expression couldn’t get any more shocked, Hunter looked back at the other two while static electricity crackled in the air between their locked gazes. There wasn’t much that the girl could do to grab her friend’s attention, so she began tugging on the corner of Audrey’s puffy, pink blouse sleeve. Meanwhile, the ghostly assault on their supernaturally seduced friend advanced.
Had any of the girls been watching, the buttons on Claire’s top would appear to be popping open one-by-one by themselves, all the while the ginger girl who was also looking red in the face watched intently. She made no measure of protest to stop the spiritual onslaught, even after her top fell away from around her shoulders and draped onto her palms. After a beat, the illusory kiss prints picked up where they left off, continuing down from Claire’s neck and progressed in between her well-endowed jugs. Propped up one hand behind her back and her legs spread, the bewitched mortal reached down and pushed a hand up over her crotch. She gasped meekly, as if having just been violated in some way.
It was at that moment that Audrey finally stopped her stare-down to give Hunter the attention she was whimpering for. With a whip of her blond hair, she rounded on Hunter with a dirty look locked and loaded – only to be halted in a dead stop once she saw the spectacle on the other side of the game board.
“Claire, what the fuck are you doing?!” the upright, church girl cried out. The swear warbled out from her lips in a timid, almost involuntary way. When you’re watching your best friend rubbing her pussy in front of you, sometimes the only way to properly express yourself was through a well-placed ‘fuck.’ Even if the Lord didn’t appreciate it.
“I can’t– oh, god.. I can’t do anything, it’s..” Claire protested. Her knees were suddenly pulled up from under her, unseating her criss-cross stance and brought her rolling onto her back.
“Oh my God, Claire! Knock it off! Go in the bathroom or something!” Audrey shrieked as the situation escalated further and further, completely oblivious to the fact that some attic-dwelling spectre was having their way with her friend.
“I’m not doing anything!” Claire pleaded.
“Yeah, you clearly are! Look, this is not what I meant by ‘experimenting’ when we were talking the.. other.. d– day..” slowly, Audrey’s cadence slowed to a halt. The wind had been let out of her sails as she watched Claire’s pants being undone. First, the aluminum button on her jeans popped free. Claire’s hands were on the ground, Audrey was sure of that. She could see them. Then, the zipper rolled down the front. Audrey double-checked Claire’s hands; still on the ground. Once the waistline of her jeans slipped off from around her waist and popped around her juicy bubble-butt, all bets were off. Once her clothing cleared the bottom of her ankle, it hung, suspended in the air for a full second before dropping to the ground.
“Oh.. my.. fucking.. God..” Giselle breathed whilst simultaneously lifting her smartphone up from her lap. The red LED recording light on the backside of the phone was glowing.
“It’s.. it’s..” Claire groaned, unable to properly form words anymore. Unseen hands were caressing the inside of her thighs. Unseen fingertips tap-danced in between her tits, tugging at the hemline of her bralet. Unseen hands had stripped her down to her underwear in front of her friends, and now those same unseen hands were pulling her panties to the side and exposing her dripping pussy. Claire looked over anxiously at her friends who were staring fixedly at this performance art going on in front of them.
“I can’t do anything..” she whispered, “.. and I don’t want to..” In a spasmodic motion that sent her entire body into a convulsion, Claire bucked her hips forward and arched her back while she let out a pornographic expulsion of pleasure from between her lips. The other three couldn’t see what was going on – not really, anyway – and were effectively getting half the show. In an astounding gesture of human-to-ghost relations, it appeared to them like their friend was currently getting eaten out by a spirit.
Claire could’ve corroborated that assumption if she had the willpower to stop moaning for a moment to speak. From her side, a tongue she couldn’t see was lashing back and forth in between the tender lips of her pink. She could feel the slimy, spectral appendage flick teasingly off of the sensitive nub of her clit. She had been gone down on before, but never like this – if that didn’t go without saying.
The poltergeist pleasuring the nubile, young woman was utterly incorporeal from Claire’s end of the electromagnetic spectrum. In a truly bizarre sight for her audience members, the squirming girl would occasionally reach down and make an attempt to rest her hand on top of the head that should have been nestled in between her legs. To as much of a surprise as the chick currently enthralled by the tongue-lashing as the ones watching her, Claire’s hand would hesitate at the spot where a head would be, and then pass through. It seemed, then, that she didn’t have much of a say in the situation. Once she had gotten over the idea of being fucked by a ghost in front of her three closest friends, it didn’t matter to Claire one way or the other. Besides, if the ghost could touch them, but they couldn’t touch the ghost, she considered herself fortunate that the her spectral suitor wanted to fuck her and not kill her. In that way, she was taking one for the team, she figured.
“It feels so good, you guys..” Claire moaned. It wasn’t as though the other girls didn’t know that. They could see her blushing face, sweaty forehead, convulsing hips, and stiffies that were poking against the fabric of her bralet. Audrey, ever the opportunist, looked over at Giselle.
“Believe it now?” she asked without making an attempt to hide the self-satisfaction in her voice. Giselle arched her eyebrows again and looked over at her friend. Her chin tilted down, her eyes flicked towards Audrey’s chest, and she guffawed.
“Yeah, and apparently this is doing things to you, too!” Giselle retorted. In a flash of motion, she reached over and flicked one of Audrey’s nipples that were firm enough to be visible through her blouse. Audrey yelped and smacked Giselle in the shoulder in defense.
“Shut up!” she cried, crossing her arms over her chest to hide the evidence of he arousal. Once the bickering pair had simmered down, a distinct moan quivered from behind them. Giselle looked over at Claire, who was still getting the tonguefucking of her life, and narrowed her gaze. Leaning back, she peered around Audrey to get a look at their silent friend. Hunter was leant back onto one hand, almost mimicking Claire, and was completely nude from the waist down. Her free hand was snaked in between her thighs and furiously stroking at her sensitive mound.
“Oh my god, bitch! What the fuck! Have some self control!” Giselle shrieked. Not that she would’ve said anything, anyway, Hunter looked over and smirked before a tremble of pleasure caused her expression to falter and her “oh” face to return. With that, the number of people enjoying some level of pussypleasing equalled the number of voyeurs for the pleasure party. Before the uncomfortable odds settled in for Giselle and Audrey, Claire spoke up again with the trademark vocal quibble that most ecstasy-high individuals wore.
“It stopped.. don’t stop..” whined the red-faced redhead. She pouted with the same expression she would give to a lover who was currently making the wrong call in the sack, but there was nobody to give it to. Instead, Claire looked over at the girls – noting then that Hunter had taken Claire’s half-invisible romp as a cue to get her own jollies – and gave her best Droopy impression. It wasn’t a second or two later that she couldn’t help but giggle. This evening had not gone the way the girls had envisioned it, and the look shared between the four (Hunter included, taking a moment away from her fervent jilling off) caused them all to break into a fit of laughter over the preposterousness of it all.
Then came the tapping.
It was loud, cut through their giggle fits, and silenced the four immediately. The source of the noise came from the Ouija board. Except, instead of where they had left it when the definitely-not-a-game broke down, the board was suspended in the air above where it used to be on the ground. In the commotion that began with Claire getting necked by a spectre, none of the girls had apparently realized that the tide had turned. No longer was it them communicating with the spirit realm – the spirit realm was about to talk directly to them.
Next to the board hung the planchet. All four girls in various stages of undress bore holes into the innocuous scrap of wood, Giselle in particular. It was difficult for her to argue with the importance and the energy of the thing when it was levitating. With all eyes on it, the planchet began spelling out a phrase on the board, one letter at at me.
“On whose knees?” blurted Claire in response to what had been written out for them. The planchet whirled around and jabbed the pointy end towards the satin-haired, half-naked chick still idly stroking at her glistening mound. Hunter’s eyes shot wide and she jabbed a finger at herself questioningly. Affirming its selection, the hovering piece of wood zoomed through the musty air and tapped the demure gal on the nose. Hunter looked back and forth between her friends and slowly rose up off of the floor and onto her knees. Since she had discarded her shorts and underwear only moments after Claire got freaky with what was beyond the grave, her exposed knees creaked on the rickety attic floorboards.
“Are you serious? We’re just doing whatever this thing tells us to do now?” Giselle yapped, gesticulating incredulously as she watched Hunter barely hesitate to comply.
“What’s going to happen now?” Claire polled the group, before adding “.. and why can’t it go back to me..” with a dejected cast towards the floor. Audrey giggled.
“Feeling left out?” bubbled the blonde, smirking in Claire’s direction.
“Hey, guys, Hunter is sucking a ghost’s cock,” Giselle said flatly. Her eyes never left the action, so she watched as Hunter’s lips were prodded by an invisible implement and left a green-tinted, glowing smear of goo on her bottom lip. Hunter then proceeded pucker up and plant a wet one on the head of the cock that she assumed would be in front of her. Her lips steadily widened, forming a vacuum-seal around the spectral pole being inserted into her cakehole from the get-go.
“Oh my God, she is,” crooned Audrey, who shuffled toward Giselle. Within moments, their friend was bobbing her head back and forth in what outwardly looked at the world’s greatest blowjob improvisation in all of theater history. Claire, situated on the opposite end of the room, could see Hunter’s tongue swirling round and round the engorged tip of a throbbing, but metaphysical cock that was very physical, at least to her. Audrey, meanwhile, was not convinced.
“Look, I think you’re both– you’re all fucking with me, right? This is my payback for last summer?” Audrey spluttered, scrambling to her feet and marching over to the preoccupied Hunter who was still smoking a ghost pole. There, she dropped to a squat and waved a hand in front of her friend’s face.
“There’s nothing fucking here!” she pleaded. She continued to wave right up until she felt the cock smack into the side of her face, sending a twirling droplet of slobber shooting out from between her teeth. Aside from what that roughness awoke in her – which, she suspected, was linked to the sudden wetness in her panties – Audrey fell silent at the same time as she fell backwards off of the balls of her feet and onto her curvy butt. She reached up with a trembling hand and felt her stinging face. Then, she looked over Hunter.
“You slapped me? What the fuck, Hunter? I thought we were friends!” Audrey squealed, tears welling up in her eyes. Her emotions were haywire. She didn’t know what to make of anything that was going on. She had seen Claire be undressed without touching her clothes. She had seen the Ouija board levitate into the air seemingly without assistance. Now, Hunter was almost comically miming an enthusiastic suckjob on what looked like nothing at all. She couldn’t explain it. Nothing made sense. Hunter appeared to be paying the in-crisis blond no mind, and had resumed her skillful servicing of the incorporeal dick.
It was Hunter’s ‘mocking’ that pushed Audrey over the edge. She had clearly had it with her friends making fun of her, and now they had the gall to pull this downright mean prank on her. The fuming blonde scrambled to her feet and stormed the handful of paces over to her fellating friend. Much to the surprise of the preoccupied flax-haired lass, Audrey took two great handfuls of Hunter’s hair.
“You want to suck a ghost cock, you cunt?” Audrey shrieked. Her stunned-silent audience members watched on with blank stares. Giselle couldn’t help but think back to the Audrey they knew before this evening – a picture of innocence, and the word ‘cunt’ would’ve burned her like holy water spilling out of her mouth – as she witnessed what was going on.
“Here, let me fucking help you!” Audrey wailed on, beginning to push and pull Hunter’s head on the unseen member plugging up her lips. “You want to make fun of me? At least do a good job!” Using her dyed-silver locks as handles, the incensed church girl stood behind her friend and violently slammed her face back and forth with the comfortable understanding that she wasn’t actually skullfucking Hunter with a surrogate spectral schlong in place of one of her own. Hunter’s throat, meanwhile, was the casualty of the miscommunication; the rock-hard ghostdick fucking her face was just the instrument used to deliver Audrey’s divine reckoning.
“G’luch- g’luch, g’lurrch– “ Hunter chortled over and over, marking each time the bulbous, plum-shaped (and sized) head of a cock speedbagged her tonsils.
“Why are you so committed to this!? Just give it up!” shrieked the blonde unintentionally bruising her friend’s esophagus. Tears were streaming down her cheeks from the whirlwind of emotions she was experiencing. No amount of throaty, gurgling protests from the girl making the loudest noises she had ever made (even if they were throatfuck-induced croaks) was going to convince Audrey that this wasn’t some elaborate plot. However, the fact that shoving her friend’s head just far forward enough was met with some resistance did puzzle her. Experimentally, Audrey stopped whipping the poor girl’s head back and forth and instead pushed her as far forward as she could until she couldn’t anymore. Something was holding Hunter’s head back; or, rather, Audrey was pressing Hunter’s lips flush with something.
Bewilderment on her face, Audrey kept one hand on the back of Hunter’s melon and crouched down next to her. Hunter met Audrey’s confused stare with a pleading, begging expression out of the one eye. Had any of the four paranormal investigators in the attic been able to peek into the spiritual plane, they would be able to see Hunter’s breathless twitching and convulsing was not, in fact, the product of any kind of otherworldly improvisation. Rather, Hunter would have a girthy ghost dick plunged halfway to her belly – one that was spasming as it unloaded ropes of sticky ectoplasmic spunk into Hunter’s stomach. Audrey, it seems, had uncanny timing at getting off incorporeal beings.
“Oh, lord forgive me..” mouthed Audrey as she came to the realization that what was going on in that dusty attic space was anything but a prank. Confirmation of her misunderstanding came immediately; when she released Hunter’s head, the oxygen-starved dicksleeve sprung backwards and collapsed onto her back, coughing up a mixture of her own spittle and mint-green ectoplasmic babybutter onto the floor. Her chest heaved rapidly, sucking in as much fresh air as she could. Audrey rushed to her side and brought hands under the slender jawline of her facefucked friend.
“Hunter, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.. I just– I thought you were messing with me, and – !”
If Hunter was upset, she showed it in a way that only a girl who didn’t speak would. Had Audrey noticed the flash of lusty fire sparking behind the girl’s eyes before she lunged, she might have had a moment to get out of the way. Instead, she was right in the firing line as Hunter pushed herself up off of the floor and smushed her lips right into Audrey’s. Ectoplasmic gunk caking her lips and the inside of her mouth, Hunter began a sloppy make-out session whether or not Audrey was ready for it. Her cumcaked tongue lashed into the off-guard, fair-haired skeptic’s mouth. Lips overlapped each other, locking and unlocking, and stringing pastel green ghost DNA between each pair. The target of this sneak-attack cumswapping tensed up at first. Not only was this the first time she had locked lips with a girl, it was ostensibly the first time sampling spectral cum. After the initial shock wore off, Audrey breathed a moan into Hunter’s mouth and continued until she had gotten her fill – both of Hunter’s tongue and what was coating it.
They pulled away from each other, strands of residual spit linking their mouthes together for a moment before splitting apart. They looked into each other’s eyes, panting heavily – although Hunter more than Audrey.
“.. y’all done?” Giselle remarked to split the silence in the room.
“Y– yeah. Same time next week?” Audrey asked with a wry grin. -->
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