Trevor was careful whenever he came up here. Especially when his parents were home. Or his sister. Or even his girlfriend. It was imperative none of them knew what he was doing up here.
If anyone was to come upstairs and find him, he’d say he was feeding their ghost resident. Slimer had earned a reprieve after helping them deal with the possessor last July. And since it didn’t prove to be dangerous (Ray even vouched for the ghost), they let it stay in the attic. And Trevor had volunteered to be his keeper, so to speak. He kept a trap on hand if he ever stepped out of line, however. But otherwise, he’d bring junk food up to keep him happy and make sure he wasn’t making too big a mess.
What he did not want his family to know about was the other arrangement the pair of them have. It started as an accident, he swore to himself. He made the mistake of coming up here to masturbate because his mom was cleaning his room. And halfway through, Slimer somehow got involved. But ever since then, Trevor discovered he had a disturbing kink for slimy ghost blowjobs. It’s not gay if it’s a ghost he would tell himself whenever he took off his pants and sat in an old armchair, moaning and panting as the green ghost slobbered all over his cock. He would close his eyes and pretend it was Lucky sucking his dick. But that fantasy would be shattered every time Slimer’s tongue lavished his balls in a way the young woman couldn’t. Or when it passed through him to lick his arsehole from the inside out. He would clutch the armrests tightly whenever it gave him head, his penis throbbing feeling like it was dunked in treacle. His throat muscles would bulged each time he help his breath to suppress a scream, which always happened each time he ejaculated. For some reason, blowjobs from Slimer made him more vocal than regular sex.
He almost got caught only once. His sister came up to look for something, climbing up the ladder startling Trevor in the armchair. She didn’t even notice him until she stepped into the room to grab what she was looking for. He didn’t have time to hide his erection, but he attempted to cover it with his hand when she paused to glance at it. “I’d say get a room, but…” she said, glancing at the attic. They didn’t say anymore, though the look she gave him voiced her disapproval. He didn’t make a big deal out of it. Phoebe had Unfortunatly caught him masturbating before. That’s how he knew she wouldn’t tell mom.
He waited until she was gone and had shut the door before turning back to his lap, gasping when Slimer re-emerged from the chair through his body to suck his cock in reverse. His top was soaked with slime note, but he was too close to finishing to care. “Fuck me” he groaned, writhing in the chair while Slimer’s jaw cupped his balls, his tongue slavering his shaft. He jerked up when he ejaculated across the room, hitting the wall on the opposite side, his butt clenching somehow swallowing a gulp full of slime to seep up into his stomach.
Slimer floated out of his body panting, as if it was satisfying for him too. Maybe it was, because he ran his slimy tongue over Trevor’s cheek, which grossed out the young man. Once Slimer disappeared back into his junk pile, Trevor wiped the slime off his face and body, once more reevaluating his life choices.
After every session he would rush into the shower, removing all evidence of his difiant behavior. Sometimes when Lucky was here, she’d surprise him in the bathroom. And he’d pull her under the water with him and they’d have sex. Rushed, passionate sex that she would come to crave because Trevor was at his most kinky and wild in those moments. She never guessed it was because Trevor was trying to convince them both he wasn’t gay is any form. Or that he was secretly having a sexual relationship with a ghost.
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