Ghost of Kareema - An Erotic Sex Tale
This is gonna be a different type of a sex tale from your long silenced favourite sex story writer, Qamar. So, dear viewers, sir back and enjoy. Disclaimer : if your heart is easily troubled, don’t read alone, in the dark, or in dead silence. I’m gonna start this in the third person. Hope you all will enjoy. Qamar, the usual erotic experience publisher, once decided to do something different, something special for his audience. As the Buddhist he is, he believed in afterlife. How do I combine the world on the other side, with eroticism? That was something he was thinking of for a long time. So he decided to start his experiment, in his own way. At this moment, it’s relevant to say that he’s a Sri Lankan, so he went to the nearest cemetery, which was A few townships away from where he lived. He met with the watcher and told him his idea. The watcher didn’t believe him at first, but later allowed him to stay in the cemetery, under his watch. That night, with his book and his pen, Qamar was waiting, ready for the unthinkable to happen. He once looked back at the watcher to see he’s long asleep. “This is just great,” he thought, as he looked at his watch to see it was already eleven pm. “Sh…dammit! Still nothing…oh wow, who’s calling?” His phone started ringing but when he looked at it, there was an unusual kind of number. In Sri Lanka, if someone calls you from a phone box, you still can read the globe box number. But this time, it was just a bunch of unusual shaped signs on the screen, more complicated than the most complicated Chinese characters he had ever seen. “What the…How is this even possible?” He said as he took to answer the phone. “Okay, who’s calling while the devils are climbing the trees?” (While the devils are climbing the trees ie “yakku gas nagina welaawe”, as said by Sinhalese ppl in sinhala, is a slang to mean “around the midnight”. It’s an expression of anger when you have ti wake up in the middle of night to answer a call.) “Qamar?” A woman said on the other side. It sounded like a kinda young voice, sweeter than the sweetest he had ever heard. “Yeah, who’s this?” “Someone who’s supposed to be climbing a tree right now!” That froze Qamar’s Buddhist heart. But he got some gut and asked, “This is no joking time! Tell me what you want or I’ll call the police!” Her response was a crazy smile that froze him even further. “Ahahahaha…to tell you what Qamar,” she was now speaking in a more harsher voice, “your human police ain’t gonna do a thing to stop me from doing whatever I wanna do to you!” She ended her sentence in a rage, but calmed down again and said, “Tell me Qamar, you wanna hear an erotic story from the other side, or not? I think that’s why you’re here.” “How am I so sure if this is real or not?” Qamar asked in a defeated voice. Yes, he was desperate for what he was looking for. The voice calmly said, “well, easy. Look at the lightened graveyard in front of you. Go there. I’ll see you there in a minute,” she hung up. Qamar looked forth and immediately saw, in the middle of the darkness, a shining graveyard. But he still saw vehicles running on the nearby main road. Nobody seemed to notice it and stop. Why? “Okay, this is gonna be great,” Qamar thought as she stepped towards the graveyard. As he closed in, he wanted to inspect the place. In this country, if a Buddhist is buried, there will be a Dharmachakra posted on his graveyard. If that’s a Christian, that would be a cross. This place had neither of them, suggesting that this isn’t a resting place of either a Buddhist or a Christian. But then he knew what it was, reading the statement there on the concrete. “To God we belong and to him we return…hmm…now I get it. This is getting interesting,” he said to himself as he inspected further. “Ms Kareema Zainab Rasooldeen, born 24.02.1966 died 17.01.2002…interesting…come on, who’s calling again?” He said as he took his buzzing phone to his hand. It was her, again! “Okay, what should I do now?” “Mh…This will get a bit awkward but…dig it,” as she said it in a very humanly time, the area of the cemetery where the body of Ms Kareema lied under, loosened with a sound. She hung up. Qamar, slid his phone into his pocket and looked around for a shovel. There lied one a few feet away, which he took started digging. After a few minutes, he uncovered something covered in a white sheet, now browned with all the soil it lied under for this long. “I hope this won’t be for nothing,” Qamar said as he got down the pit he just dug and tried to pull the sheet out of the pit. He knew that the bones of Ms Kareema were supposed to be there. He said a little Buddhist prayer, and as he tried to touch the white cloth, he looked at it in astonishment, as it started getting filled up, to the size of an adult woman! “Oh my…What the…” now he was really scared, as he saw a thin face emerging on one end of the cloth and getting filled up within to become the hottest female face he had ever seen. As he was heavily sweating, horrified by what he just saw, he sat back, and Ms Kareema, now having her human body perfectly restored, stood up, as the cloth around her body, went off her head, now complete with hair, and fall onto her shoulders. She smiled at him. He was still terrified. “Why Qamar? You seem terrified.” “I…am terrified…actually,” Qamar said, pretending to be calm. Her hands were now visible and it seemed as though she was putting the cloth together, using her fists against her breast. She stepped forth, until he stepped back and hit against the pit. He looked back and saw that the pit was now deeper than he actually dug, making it obviously impossible for him to escape! “Wait, what the…,” as he said, looking back at Sameera, she closed in at a glance and looked into his eyes.