Help! The Ghoul is a Girl!

There's a chill in the autumn air as the sun starts to creep beyond the horizon. The trees are still stubbornly hanging on to a few copper leaves, but most have fallen onto the well manicured grass between the short stone pillars. It's peaceful here.

I've always loved cemeteries. Maybe that seems morbid, or disrespectful, but I feel at home there. Something about the stillness, about the rows of monuments to people who moved on. Gone, but not forgotten, as they say. And this one has a lovely gothic feel that you can't really find any more, most cemeteries moving to a more modern aesthetic. I come here when I need to find my center after a bad day.

And today has been a pretty bad fucking day.

I'm walking between headstones, a slight breeze stirring my hair, lost in thought. It's getting darker, but I don't care. If it takes me all night to calm down, then I'm staying here all night. Wouldn't be the first time. The pale haze rising from the ground ahead of me, though? First time for that. The mist congeals into a roughly human shape and turns to look at me, luminous eyes pinning me in place. I'm being regarded by something alien, inhuman.

I give it a little wave.

The gaseous body snaps inward, collapsing into the more solid and defined form of a nude man with short, shaggy hair, his glowing eyes staring at me incredulously.

"You're not even gonna pretend to be scared," his voice echoes in my ears, "Do you have no survival instinct?"

I shrug. "Not so much. I'd need to have something worth surviving for."

He stalks toward me. As his pale body moves, faint trails of mist follow, solid and vaporous at the same time. He leans close to me, scowling at me for a long moment, finally muttering, "That's pretty dark."

"You understand that I'm the kind of person who comes to a cemetery to relax, right?"

He throws back his head and laughs, an eerie sound that seems to be coming from far off despite him standing a few feet away from me. "I like you," he chuckles. "What's your story?"

So I tell him. About my shitty job, the boss breathing down my neck to use some plagiarism tool, coworkers trying to involve me in their ranked competitive misogyny. How all of that seemed twice as infuriating today. How I have no one in my life outside of work. I rant for what feels like hours, the ghost patiently listening the whole time.

"But the worst part is that they all think I'm supposed to act like them because I'm a guy!"

"Yeah," the ghost replies, "Every generation has their own rules about how men should act, and the only constant is that not once have they ever applied to me. Not that I ever wanted them to."

"Huh," I say thoughtfully, "I would have expected more of a 'men have to be men' vibe from you if you've been around for generations."

"I mean, I had to act like that when I was alive I guess, but it never felt right. It would have almost been better if I hadn't been a man at all, but you can't change how you were born." There's something incredibly bitter in the way he says this.

"Can't you?" His eyes narrow, and I start to stammer. "I-I mean, it looks like you can change your shape, so..."

The ghost looks down at his hand curiously. Slowly, it shifts, growing larger, then smaller. His eyes widen, seeming to glow brighter. "I never thought of it that way..."

"What do you have to lose? You're already dead."

He laughs again, and I could swear his voice is getting softer, less masculine. The sky is beginning to brighten behind him. "You have a point. I should-"

He vanishes mid-sentence as the sun crests the horizon. I'm wondering if I just learned something about ghost physics when I realize that I've been here all night and start to trudge back toward the cemetery entrance.

I come back the next night, but the graveyard is only a metaphorical ghost town. The night after that, and the next, a week later, a month, each time I find nothing but the growing suspicion that I'd imagined the whole thing. Maybe I fell asleep and dreamed it. An unusually vivid dream, that I somehow remembered perfectly. While forgetting how I woke up. Happens all the time, right?

Right.

It's exactly one year later. I didn't plan that or anything, I just happened to be walking by the graveyard, and the chill in the air reminded me of last year, when I had a really awful day, got really sleepy in the graveyard, and had a really weird dream. So here I am, walking to that same spot as the sun goes down. Why not? You have to celebrate the little anniversaries, when you don't have any big ones. As I come to the headstone, the sun finally dips behind the mountains, leaving a dull orange glow over the horizon, and a pale white mist rises from the ground in front of me.

Holy shit.

The vapor rises and congeals into a nude, androgynous body, more feminine but still recognizable as the same spirit I met a year ago. As they snap into full definition, their face lights up, their eyes shining with that same eerie glow. They look at me and they break into a wide grin as their eyes widen in recognition.

"You came back! I'm so glad!" Their voice has the same ethereal quality, but it's higher, more lilting.

"I came back a lot but never saw you," I admit nervously, "I was convinced I dreamed that night."

"Sorry, this is the first time I've been back."

"So, once a year? Why tonight?"

They shrug. "Don't ask me, man, I don't make the rules, I'm just buried here."

Something about that irks me, but I push it down. "Well, I'm glad I didn't miss you. I mean," I start to stammer, my face heating up, "I missed you, I just..." I give up and move on as they stifle a giggle. "I like your new look."

They follow my gaze down their body, their short hair framing an elfish face, flat chest, the swell of their hips. "It's a work in progress," they admit, "but it's coming along nicely. It's really hard to make these changes stick. Especially the downstairs bits."

I've been trying not to stare, but I can't help looking down at their completely hairless crotch, labia barely visible between the cleft of their mons. They see me looking and shift their legs apart slightly with a complete lack of self-consciousness that I can't help but envy.

"Actually," they say slowly, "Would it be weird..."

"Nothing about this is not weird," I reply with a smirk.

"Fair. I just... I'm not sure if I did a good job, you know? Would you mind giving it a look?" They gesture between their legs.

Okay, they really aren't self-conscious about this. I drop down to one knee and peer at their genitals. "It looks like pretty much any other pussy I've seen," I say, screwing up my courage, "But I can't see much. Can you spread it open for me?"

"You can touch me, I don't mind."

"I didn't think I was able to touch you," I mutter. I hesitantly put my hand on their hip. My palm tingles slightly with barely-perceptible pins and needles, but otherwise it just feels like regular skin. I slowly trace my fingertips down to their smooth leg, eliciting an appreciative sigh as I move between their thighs. Gently pulling their lips apart, I see exactly what I expect. My finger moves down, circling their entrance, lightly brushing across their clit, and gently pushes inside them. "It's like any other pussy I've seen" I repeat, looking up to see their eyes closed and their lips slightly parted. Experimentally, I push my finger further in, watching as their tongue flicks across their lips. I curl my finger, noticing a familiar rougher texture as they moan softly. "You did a really thorough job." I start to pull my finger out. Their eyes snap open and they take hold of my wrist, looking at me with obvious need.

"Please keep going, it's been a while... since..."

My mouth goes dry as I silently push my finger all the way into their pussy, curling it up and dragging the pad along their g-spot as I withdraw it, pumping in and out in a slow rhythm as they hum appreciatively. I add a second finger and they cry out, a tremor rolling through their body. In almost no time, they're rocking their hips into my hand as I push them closer and closer to their peak. Suddenly their pussy is clamping down on my fingers, their head thrown back, their fevered moans shifting to a groan of satisfaction.

"Goodness, I needed that," they breathe.

"I guess it works," I chuckle, "But a real test should be repeatable..."

They grin down at me and say, "I like the way you think."

I start thrusting my fingers into them again, their gasps and moans less desperate this time. They reach down to run their hand through my hair, sending a shiver down my spine, and I respond by moving my thumb to their clit, rubbing in small circles, quickly bringing them to another climax, but I don't let up, another orgasm following right on the heels of the first. I slow down a little, but keep working my fingers into them and over the hard nub of their clit, trying to keep them close to the edge as their orgasm fades. Suddenly, the hand in my hair is grasping firmly, dragging my face between their legs. Taking the hint, I press my mouth to their lips and start to flick my tongue across their clit, pounding my fingers into their cunt, losing myself to the task of pleasuring them, bringing them off again and again as they ride my face. I'm dimly aware of them trying to gasp something out, the words getting lost in their moans as I suck their clit into my mouth, lashing my tongue across it furiously, their orgasm crashing into them, their screams of pleasure fading away as dawn breaks and they vanish. I fall back, flopping onto the ground, breathing heavily.

I think I know what they were trying to tell me now.

Slowly I get to my feet and start walking, trying to untangle my thoughts about spending the entire night eating ghost pussy. As I reach the gate and start trudging home, I wonder why I'm so jealous.

It's another year later, and I'm back at the graveyard. I'm walking slowly, and it's already past sundown. I don't know why, I'm excited to see them again, but something is nagging at me, like an itch in a spot that I can't reach, and I can't figure out what it is. I eventually make it to the headstone, and the ghost is perched atop it, looking distinctly more feminine. Her hair is longer, hanging down past the round, full breasts that she's got now. She turns to me, and a smile blossoms on her face.

"There you are! I was starting to worry."

"Sorry," I mutter, "my head's in a weird place today. I'm glad you waited for me."

She beckons me closer, patting a spot on the headstone next to her. When I hesitate, she giggles, saying "It's my grave, dude." I wince at that, not even knowing why, and her smile falters. Taking my hand, she asks in a fragile voice, "Is... Am I too strange for you?" I quickly shake my head and she pulls me to sit on her headstone and hops into my lap. Despite my funk, I'm amazed at how strange this is; her fall is strangely slow, and when she comes to rest on me, I can feel her body pressing into mine, the same as any person, but at the same time she's completely weightless. I wrap an arm around her and she leans into my chest, looking up at me with those strangely luminescent eyes. I feel my mouth starting to curve up as I look back at her.

"I like how 'strange' you are," I say, finding my voice at last, "My brain's just too full of thoughts to actually think."

"Why don't we see if I can clear your head," she breathes, bringing her lips to mine. Her kiss is soft, tender, everything I'm not, but as her tongue reaches out to caress mine with that slightly tingly sensation that accompanies her touch, I stop thinking and lean into her, kissing back and running my hands up and down her bare back. Barely breaking our lip lock, she yanks my shirt over my head and pulls me to my feet. My hand slides between her legs as she starts undoing my jeans, my fingers sinking into her pussy as she pulls my pants down, freeing my erection. She wraps her hand around my shaft, but quickly loses focus as my free hand moves to her breast, squeezing, my thumb sliding across her nipple. Her grip on my cock goes slack as I grope her, my fingers working faster and faster in her pussy. She's moaning into my mouth, melting into me, bucking her hips against my hand, and suddenly she's coming around my fingers. She pushes me back against her grave and straddles me, positioning my cock between her labia. I move my hands to her waist as she starts to sink down, her pussy enveloping my rock hard cock, and it feels amazing, but something's wrong again. I want her, but... not like this.

"Are you okay?" She's looking at me with a concerned expression on her face, clearly noticing my discomfort.

"I don't know. Something about this feels wrong. Something about me feels wrong."

Climbing off me, she wraps an arm around my chest, pulling me into her. Despite her naked body pressing into mine, my erection is flagging. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to," she says, leaning her head against my shoulder.

"I want to do this, but..." I pause, unsure of how to describe this feeling I don't even fully understand.

"You said something feels wrong about you?"

"I don't know," I say, searching for the words. "I'm... jealous of you," I blurt out, almost without meaning to, but as I say it I realize that's what has been bothering me. "I wish I could change myself like you did."

"Why don't you?"

That's... a really good question, actually. Why don't I? That's totally a thing that people do. Take the hormones, change the outside to match the inside, live life as... themselves. Is that what I want? Is that my true self? Do I want to live the rest of my life, and apparently my afterlife, as a woman? Even as I ask myself, I know the answer. It feels right, in a way I have never felt before. I start to smile again.

"I never thought about it that way," I say.

"What have you got to lose?" she replies with a giggle.

We stay there in each other's arms for hours, talking about names, outfits, hair, teasing out the details of what kind of person I want to be. What I always knew about myself but could never admit. What she helped me see. Too soon, I notice the sky growing lighter.

"I can't wait to show you the real me next year," I say.

She kisses me softly as the sun starts to crest the horizon. "It's a date," she whispers just before she vanishes.

I get up, pull my clothes back on, and start walking home. I grin to myself; I've got work to do.

I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but the full title of this story is

Help! The Ghoul is a Girl and Now So Am I!

(I Know What Your Pronouns Were Last Autumn)

but I couldn't fit the whole thing when I posted it.

I've been looking forward to tonight, and after three hundred sixty-five days and nearly as many estradiol pills, it's finally here. I've had my outfit planned out for a while; the cute blue dress that hangs down to my ankles, pink sneakers, and my cropped denim jacket, the first piece of correctly-gendered clothing I ever bought. No need for a bra yet, my tits are barely even there, but the way the dress is slightly too tight across my shoulders pulls the chest tight, showing off what I do have. I spent an hour fussing over my makeup but it still looks sloppy, and if there's a way to soften the harsh masculine lines of my chin and brow, I haven't found the trick of it yet. My hair is shorter than I'd like, but I got my bangs trimmed and that looks cute at least. I think I look pretty damn clocky, and I have to pretend not to notice a lot of stares when I'm out and about, but I don't mind. I look like a clocky woman, and that's enough. Besides, there's only one opinion that actually matters to me right now, which is why I'm here early, standing in front of her headstone before the sun has even touched the horizon.

I know I won't see her until after sundown, but I can't help it. I'm nervous, but also excited, to see her. For her to see me. Also aroused, I can't pretend I'm not also thinking about fucking this phantasmal hottie. It's like there's this restless energy in my chest as all these feelings fight it out, which is another change from last year: I actually feel emotions now. Really feel them. It's overwhelming sometimes, but after a lifetime of numbness I'm so incredibly okay with that.

I fidget, pacing around, as the shadows grow longer and longer. This wait has been interminable. (Okay it's been like five minutes, the sun doesn't take that long to actually set, and it comes even sooner here in the shadow of the the mountain range spanning the western horizon. But it feels a lot longer when you're waiting.) Finally, the last sliver of daylight vanishes from the sky, and in the dull orange glow of early twilight I see a familiar pale vapor rising from the ground. My heart is hammering in my chest. I can't wait to see what she thinks, but at the same time I'm terrified of finding out. Her form coalesces, growing more defined until she's standing in front of me, looking just like she had last year. She grins at me, her smile growing wider as she takes in my new look.

"Oh my god," she yelps, launching herself at me and wrapping me in a tight hug, "Look at you, you're so cute!"

The color rises in my cheeks. I stammer out my thanks, still not used to compliments, hugging her back.

"How is it? How are you feeling? Are people treating you right? Have you settled on a name yet?"

"Slow down," I chuckle, "I feel great, like I'm finally awake. It's been hard, but so worth it! It's like I'm finally real!"

She giggles. "So I'm meeting the real you for the first time? What should I call you?"

"I... it's kind of cheesy," I say nervously, "I was thinking of you when I picked it out. Of how we met, and..." I trail off, working up my nerve. "My name," I finally manage to squeak out, "Is Autumn."

"Autumn," she repeats, giving me that familiar thrill of hearing someone call me by the correct name. She's gone still in my arms, and looks into my eyes; I could swear I see tears welling up in them. "That's really sweet," she whispers, "And your name is beautiful. Like you." Her lips are pressing into mine, that tingle where my skin touches her even more delicious now, like my sense of touch has changed. My tongue slips between her lips, seeking hers. I lose myself in our embrace, coming up for air an eternity later.

"How are you feeling about... y'know," she breathes, gesturing downwards with a quick bob of her head.

"I don't know if I'm okay using my, um, factory equipment as intended." She looks crestfallen at this, so I quickly add, "But everything else is okay." Her expression immediately brightens, and I continue, "And I've been looking forward to... To you."

"So if I'm meeting the real you," she says softly, "Does that mean you're sharing your first time with me?"

I don't trust myself to speak, so I just nod, and she pulls me in for another kiss, her hands moving down my back to cup my butt, pulling our hips together. I moan into her mouth as she moves back up and starts to tug my jacket off. I drop my arms and let it fall to the ground. Keeping my lips locked on hers, I slip one hand between us, down to her pussy, and plunge two fingers into her. She shudders and wraps a leg around me, holding us together and giving me easier access as I slowly work my fingers in and out, burying them and alternating between one and the other, tracing each one over her g-spot in turn. She's reaching under my dress and grabbing at the waistline of my panties, needing several attempts to take hold of the thin fabric as I bring her closer and closer to climax, haphazardly pulling them down. I try to ignore my disquiet as my cock comes untucked, focusing on my fingers inside her, my free hand gripping her back, our tits squished together, my lips on hers. Her hips buck against me as she comes, my tongue muffling her cries. I don't let up, teasing her with light touches, prolonging her orgasm. She starts rocking her hips in rhythm with my fingers, squeaking quietly each time, and before she's finished with the last one she's going over the edge again. I keep my touch inside her delicate, trying to hold her at her peak as long as I can. Something about the way I'm bringing her off feels intensely feminine, more right than anything we've done before, and as the euphoric feelings about my gender sink in, a bolt of lightning runs through my body, my knees going out from under me as I shudder through an unexpected orgasm of my own.

My hand slips from her pussy as I sink down to my knees, and she wastes no time in pulling my dress over my head. She looks at me hungrily, laying the dress on the grass and guiding me onto it, lying flat on my back. She pulls my panties down, tugging them roughly past my shoes, and pushes my legs apart. I hate that my cock is on full display, but she ignores it, slipping her hand down, sliding a finger between my cheeks and teasing around my entrance. I moan, the electric sensation of her touch on my sensitive ass driving the thoughts from my head, and she starts to push into me. Her finger feels slick, slipping in easily, stretching me open. Pulling back, she adds another finger and I'm sure it won't fit, but I've gone limp, unable to stop her even if I wanted to, and she slowly stretches me open, burying both fingers inside me. I'm distantly aware that I'm moaning loudly, babbling, begging, but the whole of my being is focused on my ass, her fingers starting to thrust in and out of me. Pressure builds in my core as she finger-fucks me, picking up speed, my head thrashing, my body shaking and jerking as the sensations roll through me in waves, building and building, threatening to drown me. Suddenly, the waves reach a crest and the pressure explodes through me. My ass clamps down hard on her fingers, my hips bucking erratically, my eyes clamped shut tightly, screaming, unable to care who might hear. My orgasm rolls through me, soft waves of pleasure crashing against me again and again, nothing like the single sharp peak of every other climax I'd had before, and her fingers are still moving, curling up to stroke against one particular sensitive spot inside me, somehow pushing me even higher, and without warning I'm coming again, feeling it in every part of my body from my head to my toes, floating on the waves rolling through me. I come again and again, losing track of where one ends and another begins, lost in what her fingers are doing to me.

Awareness comes back to me slowly, my body trembling with the aftershocks of my orgasms. My belly feels cold, and I crane my neck down to see clear fluid coating me, still leaking from my limp cock, looking nothing like cum. My lover, my beautiful ghost girl, is leaning over me, grinning, clearly pleased with herself.

"I finally got to return the favor," she giggles.

I try to respond, but all that comes out is a confused cum-drunk babble.

She giggles again. "Does that mean you've had enough?"

I shake my head vigorously, "nnnnoooooo" coming out in a low moan.

"I was thinking, if you're not comfortable fucking me... Maybe I can be the one to fuck you?"

I look at her quizzically, and notice her clit swelling out from between her labia. I watch in awe as it grows larger and larger, taking the shape of a long and very hard cock.

Leaning down to bring her lips to my ear, she whispers, "Would you like me to fuck you, Autumn?"

"Fuck yes I would."

She crawls between my spread legs, pushing her new cock against my anal entrance. Like her fingers, it feels slick and smooth, sliding into me. I groan with satisfaction as she sinks inside me, her hips coming to rest against my legs. I needed this, badly, more than I could have ever known. I look down at her as she starts to slowly pull out, withdrawing almost to the tip before sliding back into me. As the head of her cock rubs past that extra sensitive spot, I see a little gush of clear liquid escape from the tip of my own cock. She thrusts in and out of me, taking her time, building me up slowly, steadily, her earlier fury replaced with a more deliberate, intimate passion. She's trembling, her breasts bouncing as her chest starts to heave. I whisper encouragement, saying that she's making me feel whole, that she feels amazing inside me, asking her to keep going, to come with me. My words are clearly having an effect, she's not gaining any speed but her thrusts are firmer, harder, each one sending a little shock wave through me. She's filling me completely each time she buries herself in me, like my body was made to fit around her, and we're both climbing closer and closer to our peak. Somehow she's still maintaining that slow pace, keeping me on the edge but pushing that edge higher and higher.

I feel like I can't take any more. She's shaking, pleasure written across her face, her eyes closed, her mouth forming the shape of words I can't hear. We're both so close. Another thrust, another crack in the dam holding us back. Her eyes snap open, those luminous orbs locked on mine, and we can't hold back any longer. I feel her cock swell inside me as I clamp down on her, our orgasms crashing into us. I feel her shooting her cum into me, filling my ass. We climax together, hard, the notes of our moans forming a wonderful chord as we keep each other at the apex of our pleasure for as long as we can. Finally, we start to come down, panting, still looking into each other's eyes.

As we catch our breath, we both speak, "that was amazing." We start laughing at our continued synchronicity, and she comes down to rest on top of me, her flagging cock slipping out of my ass.

We're still lying together like that hours later as the sky starts to grow lighter. I give her a soft kiss, running my hand through her hair. As our lips break apart, she smiles down at me.

"See you next year," she whispers just before she disappears with the first rays of the sun. The pressure of her cum inside me vanishes at the same time, which is a little disappointing, but as I pull my clothes back on, I still feel a warmth in my chest despite the chilly air.

It's funny, the difference a year can make. Your hair can grow halfway down your back. Your tits can get satisfyingly full. You can get comfortably used to being yourself and barely notice that the stares stopped months ago. You can dye your hair jet black to match the slutty dress you're wearing to meet up with a cute ghost girl in a cemetery.

Hypothetically speaking.

So here I am again, watching the sun go down. I'm a little chilly because this dress is barely lower than my butt, but I don't care as long as she likes it. And right on cue, the telltale vapor rises from the ground and snaps into her gorgeous form, and the look on her face as she sees me is more than worth the cold.

"Damn, you look better every time I see you." There's a hungry gleam in her eye as she looks me up and down.

She wastes no time in taking me in her arms and pressing her lips to mine. We explore each other's bodies, trying to make up for a year of missed embraces. Her hands slide up the back of my legs, pushing my dress up and gripping my ass, pulling me into her firmly. One of my legs slips between hers as I mirror her movements, gripping her ass and pulling her onto my thigh. My tongue is dancing over hers as her hips start to rock against me, grinding her pussy against my leg. She moans into my mouth and goes stiff against me, fingers digging into my cheeks as she goes over the edge.

"Already?" I smirk at her as I break our kiss.

"I've been pent up," she giggles, "Thinking about you for the whole year. About how bad I need you..."

She leans in, kissing me again, her tongue slipping into my mouth, tracing its way across mine. I'm practically melting in her arms when I feel her push into my throat. My eyes go wide as she pulls back, six inches of tongue slipping back between her lips.

"A whole year to get creative," she says, grinning at me, "And I had something else in mind, but you seem to like the tongue thing..." Her eyes flick downward meaningfully.

"I like the way you think," I murmur, a shiver running down my back.

She slips her tongue between my lips again and my legs buckle under me as it pushes into my throat. My moan of pleasure is muffled, muted down to a low hum as she fills me. I'm going limp, dimly aware of her hands moving me. My legs push into something cold and rough. My vision is starting to blur.

I gasp as her tongue withdraws from my throat. I'm leaning against the headstone, my dress pulled up to my waist and her thumbs hooked in my panties, tugging them down. She grins wickedly and turns me around, bending me over her grave marker. I feel her tongue tracing down the crack of my ass.

I gasp at the delicious feeling of her tongue gliding between my cheeks. "I really like the way you think!"

The tip of her tongue finds my anus, pushing its way into me. I groan loudly and grip the headstone desperately. I'm in heaven as her tongue wriggles deeper into me, stretching my hole open. Lashing against every sensitive spot, going deeper, filling me. Pulling back slightly, surging forward, fucking me. Driving me closer and closer to my peak as her tongue worms its way closer and closer to my core. Teasing me. Her hands on my hips, pulling me into her face.

Pushing deeper. Harder.

Closer.

I scream as my orgasm surges through me. My cock erupts, painting her headstone. Her tongue writhes inside me wildly, and another blast of cum splashes over the worn lettering. I pant, groaning loudly, fire coursing through my body, but she doesn't slow and I can feel myself approaching another climax.

She spends the rest of the night with that tongue buried in my ass, making me cum over and over until I'm babbling, my head empty, every thought forced out by her relentless assault on erogenous zones I didn't even know I had. I lose track of time, orgasms blending together until I hear her whisper, "See you next year, babe." When I finally come back to my senses, I'm lying on the grass, twitching and gasping as little aftershocks of pleasure pulse through me. I slowly stand on shaking legs, leaning heavily on her headstone, and thinking that there's only one way having her tongue inside me could be better.

I'm waiting at the grave when she rises past my feet and takes her usual form, grinning widely with her arms already around me. I'm not dressed up this year, just jeans and an open hoodie, but at least the tank top underneath shows off just how big my tits have grown. Her lips are immediately locked on mine, her tongue tracing mine with that little electric buzz that I'll never get tired of. She pulls the hoodie off my shoulders, but I'm distracted, nervous. I'm sure she can hear my heart trying to hammer its way out of my chest.

"Autumn, are you okay?" She's looking into my eyes, concern written across her face.

I can't find my voice, I'm starting to shake, but she's already guiding me to sit down, leaning me back against her headstone, encouraging me to take deep breaths. She floats down, kneeling next to me, her hands on mine. Logically, I know she cares for me by now, but seeing it, feeling it... it's too much.

"T-thank you," I sob. I can feel tears running down my face. "It's... I'm being stupid." Wordlessly, she moves to sit next to me, patiently waiting for me to continue. "I'm going to get bottom surgery soon, and I'm scared. I've wanted this for so long, needed it, but I'm still scared. That's stupid, right?"

"Of course not, it would be weird if you weren't at least a little scared." She starts to rub my back softly, continuing, "Big changes are always like that. The more important it is, the scarier it seems."

She asks me about the surgery, about preparation and recovery, and as I answer I start to calm down, growing less overwhelmed as I explain all the mundane details to her. We stay like that for a while, holding each other, talking about little things as my stress slowly evaporates, and I find myself wishing that we could just stay like this forever.

"I'm sorry I used up so much of our time," I murmur during a lull in our conversation. There's barely more than an hour left before sunrise.

"Don't be," she replies, her head resting on my shoulder, "I enjoyed it. I love you for more than just sex." She goes silent and tenses up against me, realizing what she's just confessed to.

We've never talked about this before, but it feels comfortable, in the same way that holding her as we talked felt comfortable. "I'm glad you love me back," I say with a smile.

She looks up at me, her surprise quickly giving way to a grin. "Back?"

"Yeah, I guess I should say it properly?" I look into her beautiful luminous eyes, my nose softly touching hers, and whisper, "I love you, and I'm so glad to be with you, even if it's only once a year."

She's gazing back at me, our lips almost touching, and replies, "I love you so much, Autumn." Her lips press into mine, softer than before, gently teasing my tongue with hers. I moan softly, practically melting against the headstone as I kiss her back, my hand stroking her hair.

She moves to straddle my hips, kissing her way down from my lips to my neck. I moan low, almost purring, as her lips lock around my jugular and suck softly. Before we can go any further, golden light starts to spill over the horizon.

"I love you," we both say in unison. She giggles as she disappears, the sound of her voice lasting a second longer.

I smile to myself as I get to my feet. The next time the woman I love sees me, I'll finally be whole, and I cannot wait.

The last twelve months have been eventful; if you know, you know. After enough preparation for five or six lifetimes, the relative anticlimax of a hospital stay. Pain, recovery, and constantly rediscovering how gloriously right I feel now. Stretching my new lady bits open with my prescription dildos so frequently that it's stopped being novel, blowing right past "boring" to being a nuisance.

Though it did help to remember that I was preparing myself for a certain someone.

Which brings me to tonight, strolling down the well-worn path through the cemetery to her grave, wearing a cute orange sundress that is doing nothing to ward off the chill. I've got the timing worked out perfectly after all these years, arriving just as the last sliver of the day star winks out behind the mountains. My spectral lover materializes and pounces on me immediately, wrapping me in a tight hug as we exchange greetings between kisses.

"So, can I see it?"

"Straight to the point," I chuckle, lifting the hem of my dress to reveal my lack of panties and brand new artisanal hand crafted vulva.

"Guess I'm not the only one," she says, her eyes glued between my legs, taking in my thin patch of pubic hair, the cleft of my mons disappearing between my thighs, and the faint scars framing them on either side. I know exactly what she's seeing, because I stop and stare every single time I've noticed myself in the mirror. She glances up at me, grinning impishly. "I think I need a closer look..."

I lie down in the grass and spread my legs in silent invitation. She floats down, bringing her face to my pussy and wasting no time in sliding her tongue between my labia.

"FFuuucckkk," I moan. I was not prepared for how good it feels as she licks up and down my slit, dancing over my clitoris before moving down and plunging into me, moving back and forth, teasing me until I'm pleading for more with every shuddering breath. Her lips wrap around my clit, sucking softly as her tongue flicks across the hard little nub. I scream out my pleasure at her sudden change of pace, quickly climaxing, but as soon as it passes I feel her fingers pressing into me, pushing me right over the edge again. She finger-fucks me through my orgasm with her mouth glued to my clit and it's so good, so much... too much...

She looks up at me with concern as I start sobbing. I do my best to reassure her, managing a weak smile even as the tears keep coming. She moves to lie against me, arms wrapped around my trembling chest. Eventually I regain enough composure to explain that these were happy tears, that I'm so glad that I get to share my first experience as my full self with someone I love so much, that I was just overwhelmed. Her lips come to mine, our tongues doing a familiar dance against one another. After an eternity, we pull apart and I give voice to the only thought I have in my head right now.

"More."

She rolls on top of me, positioning herself between my legs as her clit extends into a hard cock. She guides the tip to my entrance, gazing into my eyes as she slowly pushes into me, and nothing has prepared me for how good, how right it feels to have my lover inside me, spreading my cunt open and sinking into me until her hips are resting against my thighs. She holds herself there as I look up at her between my heaving breasts.

"I love you," we both say at once. We giggle at being so in sync again, but her expression quickly shifts, her eyes closing and her mouth opening slightly.

"Fuck, I can feel your laugh around my cock," she murmurs. I respond with a quick squeeze of my pelvic muscles, gripping her and relishing the look of bliss on her face. "I hope you're ready for this," she whispers, slowly withdrawing, leaving only a sense of emptiness in my core.

Without warning, she bucks her hips, driving her shaft deep into me before pulling back to fuck me at a steady pace. I dig my fingers into the grass, arching my hips to meet her thrusts, unable to keep my voice down as I scream my pleasure to the graveyard, the whole city, the whole world for all I care. It isn't long before I'm at my peak again, lightning shooting up and down my spine as I climax. My cunt is rhythmically grasping her cock as she keeps pounding me through my orgasm, and I'm coming undone, I'm melting, I feel like my soul is merging with hers. I come again and again, I have no idea how many times. I'm hungry, starved, devouring her. I almost don't notice her cry of ecstasy, and suddenly her hips are pressed hard against me, cock swelling, kicking inside me as warmth floods into my core in sharp spurts, and for one perfect moment, we are one. Her cock slips free as she moves to lie on top of me, snuggling her head against my neck.

"That was amazing," I gasp, "You are amazing. I love you so much."

"I love you too. I'm so glad for you, that I got to share this with you.."

My eyes are growing heavy and the next thing I know, the sky is growing lighter; I must have fallen asleep. We exchange one last quick kiss before the break of dawn steals her away from me again. I sit up, my pussy aching, but not unpleasantly. This night was perfect, and I can't wait to see her again next year.

One year later, the setting sun casts long shadows across the city's municipal cemetery. The sky is painted a vivid orange that matches the autumn leaves as the last hints of daylight vanish. Deep within the long rows of stone markers, a diaphanous white vapor rises from the ground before a weathered headstone, coalescing into a humanoid form before blinking into the well defined shape of a nude woman. She looks around expectantly with glowing eyes, but whatever she expects to find eludes her.

As the night wears on, she becomes increasingly manic, pacing back and forth, casting frequent glances toward the cemetery's entrance. She hugs herself, and if there were anyone to hear, they would assume that she's mumbling to herself about the time of year.

The first hints of dawn find her perched atop the headstone, hunched over, weeping softly. As the sun crests the horizon, her form diffuses into nothing.

The following year, the apparition appears again, but her manner is completely different. She looks toward the entrance furtively, as though she's scared of what she'll see. She doesn't pace. She doesn't perch. She sinks to the grass and waits. As the hours crawl by, her body becomes less and less distinct, fading away bit by bit.

At midnight, there's a crunch of boots on dry leaves. A woman, walking through the cemetery, picking her way carefully to the grave. The ghost's head snaps up, a look of relief quickly shifting to dismay as she takes in this stranger's face.

The stranger pauses, trying to work up the nerve to finally close the remaining distance to the grave and its spectral inhabitant.

"It was all true then," she says numbly. The ghost watches her silently, making no move to reply, and eventually the woman continues, "Do you know a woman named Autumn?"

This finally elicits a response. The ghost rises to her feet, her body becoming more solid, and approaches the woman, nodding.

"Autumn is my sister. She left a note to come to this spot on this night, if she..." the woman trails off, a shadow passing over her face.

"What happened to her?" the ghost asks in a fragile voice, sounding more like leaves rustling in the wind than a person.

The woman takes a long time to respond. "There was a car," she begins in a choked voice, "It, it hit her, and she..."

As the silence stretches out, the ghost asks, "Was that note... Did she want you to come to me if she..." Her voice is small, tight.

The woman can only nod.

The ghost sinks to the ground again, tears leaking from her glowing eyes. "Fuck, I'm so sorry. Your sister is- was an amazing person."

The woman sits down next to the ghost, saying nothing, but this time the silence is tempered by the sound of both quietly sobbing.

There's a chill in the autumn air as the sun starts to creep behind the horizon. The trees are still stubbornly hanging on to a few copper leaves, but most have fallen onto the well manicured grass between the short stone pillars. It's peaceful here.

I've always loved cemeteries. I met and fell in love with the woman who changed my life in a cemetery. I feel at home here, it has a lovely gothic feel that you can't really find any more.

I rise, like smoke. A moment's thought and I feel more like myself, more solid. I walk between the headstones, my hair shifting as though underwater. I quickly find my bearings and make my way to a familiar spot. As usual, there's a woman sitting on the headstone, her nude body pale, almost like smoke made solid. She notices me and turns, her luminous eyes widening in surprise as she takes in my new body.

"Autumn!?"

I smile and pull her into a tight hug. "Hey, babe. Sorry I'm late."

Author's notes: Big thanks to my wife and Lady Lovelace for helping me revise this story, and for being my guinea pigs for the pivot from "shitpost" to "emotional sucker punch." As ever, you've saved me from myself.