In the shock Dean ripped his hand away and the woman moved back. A faint "Help" vibrating through the room as he began to fade.
The woman was shaking, breathless, and uneasy. The mans eyes and his energies now haunting her more than the experience. A familiar feeling came with the memory of it. Had she imagined it? He felt exactly like any fantasy she had ever had. Her loneliness and desperation seemed to be getting the best of her.
Days went by before her mind would let her focus on anything for longer than a moment and a week was gone before it had left her mind completely.
It was dusk when Dean appeared, wandering the halls. He felt that familiar pull and had no choice but to follow it to the bathroom door. Dean heard the shower running and the steam limited visibility, though he knew exactly where he was going.
He found her there, in the shower, the door ajar. The sight Dean was greeted with made the breath catch in his throat. Droplets of water crept down the contours of the woman's breasts as her chest heaved and she let out a moan. His eyes travelled down and found her hands grasping tightly a shower head between her thick thighs. Her ass unconsciously rubbed back against the wall as the water pulsed furiously, her head tilting back and lips pouting as if begging for contact.
Dean saw his opportunity at took it. If this was the only time he could make contact he was going to make sure they didn't lose each other like last time.
Cautiously he placed himself in front of the woman and lowered his head close to hers.
"I'm sorry about this." He said. "Well.. sort of." As he spoke goosebumps rose across her body, her nipples hardened painfully, and another moan rose in her throat. Dean covered her mouth with his and strangled the moan back. He immediately set to work placing his body against hers, trapping her against the wall. No matter what way she moves, he thought, we cannot break contact.
He expect her to freak, expected her to freeze and scream, expected.. anything other than what happened.
She didn't even flinch.
She moved into the kiss, angling the shower head to better fit between them as her hips bucked and she pressed her breasts into him, losing herself in the friction. Dean felt himself grow hard as he wondered just how the hell ghosts could get hard in the first place. One thrust rubbed against his length in a tantalizing way and a low rumble escaped him. It was at that that she froze.
Dean braced himself and pulled his head back, her eyes slowly opening. The contact was electric. Her eyes on his sent a jolt through them both that, frankly, Dean was shocked he could still feel. If this is what it's like being dead, he thought, I don't fucking like it. All the reactions, none of the options.
She opened her mouth, her eyes suddenly clouding over with panic.
"Wait. Please."
She hesitantly, slowly, closed her mouth. The panic never leaving her features.
"Help me. I don't know what happened to me or where I am. Help me, please. I'm.. I'm dead. I think. I'm a ghost and for some reason I don't seem to exist without you around and I can't do shit about anything unless you're.. you know. I'm sorry for that. But help me. Please."
There was silence as the woman took a deep breath and steadied herself. She exhaled slowly as she raised to meet Deans eyes.
"Wh- what do you need me to do?"