My Sexual Apparition On Ghost Island In Singapore
My Sexual Apparition
Summer always feels like an excuse to run from dull office lights and recycled air. While other people plan family trips and polite beach days, my mind moves straight to heat, alcohol, and bodies pressed a little too close. Evening classes at the gym overflow with women in tight outfits, laughing loudly and stretching over yoga mats. It should have been a paradise, yet it only sharpened my sense that something was missing. I craved more than flirting between sets or lazy numbers exchanged after class. Restlessness grew until the idea of leaving town became more tempting than any glance across a room.
Some people calm that itch with a short road trip or a new hobby. I booked a ticket for Singapore instead. Stories about Ghost Island had already hooked me, full of talk about escorts, late nights, and quiet corners by the water. A friend once joked that places like that attract more than tourists, that some visitors swear they see things others cannot. Later, I found an article in Psychology Today explaining why some people see ghosts and apparitions, and the thought lodged in my mind. By the time summer rolled around, I was ready to find out what waited for me on that island.
Table of Contents – My Sexual Apparition
- Summer Escape
- A Plan for Ghost Island
- An Encounter at Sister’s Restaurant
- A Dance to Remember
- Nightfall on Ghost Island
- Final Awakening
Summer Escape
Summer is always a time to enjoy a break from routine and leave the dull office behind. Evening classes fill with women of every shape, their leggings and tight tops stretching over strong thighs and soft curves that make men stare a little too long. Some of the older women look around with sharp eyes, seeking out younger bodies to ease the hunger left by tired, uninterested husbands. One of them once told me how lonely her bed had become. Her words were almost sad, right up until the moment her hand slid over my crotch, fingers closing around my cock as she begged for more than polite company.
Temptation lingered, but the idea of becoming a casual toy boy never sat right. I pulled away, kept my distance, and focused on my own plans. Before taking off for my summer break, there was one thing I wanted to do. My closest friend at work and I agreed to meet at our usual club for drinks. We would watch the strippers on stage, laugh about the week, and talk about the trip I had been planning for months, the escape that would eventually bring me to Ghost Island and everything that followed.
A Plan for Ghost Island
We reached the club a little after ten, the usual hour when the dancers hit their stride. Strippers swung their hips as if shaking off the entire night, and the room glowed with neon and restless energy. I told my friend about my plan to spend the summer on Ghost Island, Singapore. He laughed at first, thinking I was joking, but when he saw my face, he leaned in, suddenly serious. I explained how ready I was for a change, for a wild break from the city grind, maybe even a chance to meet women who wouldn’t hold back. The magazines I had read made it sound like another world, full of escorts and easy pleasure.
He started rambling about his own fantasies—how bigger women had the sweetest warmth, how slimmer ones were like cool water on the tongue. He spoke with so much confidence you’d think he was lecturing a class of students instead of talking to a grown man with a drink in his hand. I just laughed, sipped my vodka, and let him go on. By morning, I was already on my way to Pulau Hantu.
A cab took me straight to the wharf, and from there a small boat carried me across calm water to the island. The first thing I did after stepping onto the shore was drop my bags in a kampong hut and breathe in the air. Something about the stillness made the place feel older, heavier, as if stories lived in the sand. It reminded me of the eerie, tempting tales I had read in Singapore’s supernatural erotica, and it only fed my curiosity.
Loving Stories On Ghost Island
An Encounter at Sister’s Restaurant
The island felt quiet during the day, so I wandered until I reached Sister’s Restaurant. The long walk and thick heat left me thirsty, and the first glass of gin went down smooth. I barely had time to enjoy the second when a woman slid onto the stool beside mine. She wore a padded bra under a torn designer top that clung to her chest, making her pointed breasts stand out even more. White sheer pantyhose wrapped her legs, and four-inch open-toe heels added height that most island visitors didn’t bother with. She looked like she didn’t belong there—and somehow that made her even more tempting.
An hour passed as I drank and joked with a few girls dancing to the radio. Their booties shook to every beat, playful and wild. When I turned back, the woman beside me was watching me with a slow, heated stare. She rose from her seat with a sway that could make any man forget where he was. She walked a few steps, then looked back over her shoulder as if testing whether I would follow. I held her hand when she offered it, and her smile came soft, almost shy, but her eyes said everything else.
A Dance to Remember
She leaned close, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered, “I am Jane.” I opened my mouth to give her my name, but she asked instead whether I had visited the island before. I told her yes, that I had friends from an earlier trip. Her answer surprised me—she already knew who I was. “I want to welcome you in style,” she said, stepping back to study me with a slow sweep of her eyes. There was something bold in her gaze, something that made it impossible to look away.
We talked for a while, the conversation drifting between teasing comments and light questions. Her fingers traced slow circles on my thigh, warming me far more than the gin. When I asked if she wanted to dance, she slid her hand into mine without hesitation. The floor wasn’t crowded; most visitors had returned to their huts for the night. We moved to the rhythm of soft music, our steps easy, our bodies closing the space inch by inch until her breath brushed my neck.
Seared Into Our Memories
Writing moments like that reminds me how a single glance or touch can pull two strangers into the same small world, even if only for a night.
The sweetness of the music made it natural to pull her in nearer, my hands settling just above her rounded butt. She rested her head lightly against my chest, her hips rolling in time with mine. When I brushed her cheek, she gasped in a way that made everything inside me tighten. The heat between us grew quickly, feeding on every subtle movement. She whispered that we should return to the table, and when she sat down, she eased her legs open just enough for me to see she wore nothing beneath the pantyhose. The sight alone made me want her even more.
Nightfall on Ghost Island
By the time we stepped outside, night had settled fully over the wharf. Soft lights shimmered across the water, and a warm breeze moved her dress against her curves. I complimented her again, unable to hide how drawn I was. She turned slightly, lifting the hem of her dress just enough to show her full butt, and I grabbed it without thinking, fingers sinking into the softness. Her quiet laugh drifted back toward me, low and teasing.
Photo: Singapore Woman
Her body pressed closer as she reached under my jeans to free my cock, stroking it with slow, steady care. I leaned back against a post while she worked her tongue over the head. The night air mixed with her warm mouth sent shivers through me. She sucked deeper, her rhythm smooth and certain, and the pleasure climbed fast. Under the wharf lights, she seemed almost unreal, like she had stepped out of one of those heated tales of desire found near the Wishing Well where passion never really sleeps. The thought stirred something inside me, heightening every sensation.
Final Awakening
Her pace quickened, and every stroke of her mouth pulled a deeper sound from my chest. When she paused for breath, I warned her that I was close, but she only tightened her grip and pushed herself farther down my length. The pressure built fast. I tried to hold back, but she was already taking me in again, her lips sliding all the way to my pubic hair. My hips surged forward in a sharp wave, and I came hard in her mouth. She swallowed everything with a pleased hum, licking softly until my body trembled.
Before I could recover, she surprised me by sucking again, coaxing my softening cock with gentle pulls until it stirred back to life. Only when a voice shouted from the wharf—“Hey! The ranger is coming!”—did she lift her head. We ran along the shoreline toward the kampong. She didn’t let us reach any house or shelter. Instead, she pushed me to the sand under the moonlight and dropped to her knees, taking me in her mouth once more. Her eyes were closed, her pace eager, and the night breeze wrapped around our bodies like a warm veil.
“Inside me,” she moaned, lifting her dress. I slid my hands beneath the fabric, gripping her butt as she climbed onto me. Her back arched as she lowered herself, guiding my cock into her. The heat of her body made my breath catch. She rode me with slow, steady rolls, each movement deeper than the last. I matched her rhythm, holding her waist as she twisted her hips, moaning softly with every stroke. She felt unreal, too warm, too smooth, too perfect under the pale light.
She Was Still Hungry For More
She shifted forward and took me again, guiding my cock back inside her. Her pace grew quicker, her body tightening around me as she ground her hips in tight circles. I thrust in sync with her, feeling her wet warmth coat my length. When she leaned back against my chest, whispering how good it felt, my climax slammed through me in a sudden rush. She urged me to finish on her breasts, lifting them with her hands as she bounced on my lap. Heat surged through me until I spilled across her chest, breath shaking.
She stayed on top of me for a moment, kissing me softly as she let my cock slip free. Her voice went quiet as she whispered that she wanted to see me again every night until my holiday ended. I believed her. The way she touched me made it easy to believe anything. But when she stood, the world tilted. A sudden wave of dizziness swept through me, and I fell back into the sand. Darkness wrapped around my thoughts until everything slipped out of reach.
Dawn woke me with the distant sound of lovers laughing on the beach. The first light of morning slid over Ghost Island, painting the water gold. I sat up slowly, sand clinging to my back, and looked around. Jane was gone. There were no footprints near mine, no sign she had ever been there at all. The night felt unreal, like a fever dream pulled from the island itself. As I stared out over the water, a question pressed into my mind with cold certainty.
Had I met a woman in the moonlight? Or had I spent the night with My Sexual Apparition?
FAQ – My Sexual Apparition
Q: Why does Ghost Island matter in this story?
A: The island’s quiet beaches and eerie history create the perfect backdrop for a night that feels both sensual and unreal.
Q: What makes the encounter feel otherworldly?
A: The woman’s sudden appearance, her intensity, and her disappearance at dawn blur the line between fantasy and something unexplained.
Q: Why does the narrator reflect on apparitions?
A: Stories of strange sightings and old island myths make him question whether the night was physical or something stranger.
Q: How does desire shape the story?
A: Passion drives every moment, guiding his choices and shaping his memory of what happened on the shore.
Q: What theme holds the story together?
A: The pull between physical pleasure and the unknown, where lust meets a hint of the supernatural.
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