Having Sex with a Ghost

I bought a dildo to represent him, then he was gone

Rob was one of the first readers who reached out to me. He had read some of my erotic fiction and I was intrigued by his email.

I wrote back. We kept writing. Before long, I developed some deep feelings for him.

We exchanged a lot of emails. A lot of them were about sex, since that’s the subject that brought us together. But after a while, they weren’t just about sex — they were about us having sex with each other.

We’d talk about our fantasies, exchange nude photos, and just generally get to know each other.

Sadly, it came to an end. Why it ended is a little complicated, but I think that, deep down, there was just a mismatch. I felt one way about him. He felt another way about me. There was no way it could’ve worked out.

But before it ended, I made an online purchase. One that I spent a long time regretting.

My Saddest Sex Toy

When we were still writing each other, I spent a lot of time thinking about Rob. I fantasized about having sex with him, what it would be like, what it would feel like.

I knew some of his preferences. I had his detailed descriptions of what he wanted to do to me or have me do to him. But I still wanted a way to make my fantasies more vivid. The best way I could think to do that was to buy a sex toy that could represent him.

I looked through different adult online retailers until I found a dildo that matched his measurements.

I planned to use it while masturbating, so I could imagine it was his cock fucking me. I wanted to use it while we exchanged dirty emails. And I also thought of using it with Mr. Austin as a way to fulfill some of the threesome fantasies I was very much having at this time.

I felt so excited when I placed the order. But by the time it showed up in my mailbox, I didn’t feel that way at all. We were no longer speaking to each other, and I almost didn’t want to open the package and actually see it.

It was supposed to be a really fun sex toy, but it became the most awkward thing in my house.

That put me in a difficult place. What am I supposed to do with a dildo I don’t want to fuck? A dildo that makes me feel heartbroken instead of sexy?

At the time, I wrote an article about all the funny things I could use it for, but in reality it just occupied a bit of space at the back of my sex toy drawer.

I couldn’t bring myself to use it, not when I was still feeling wounded from the way things ended with Rob. I worried it would make me cry, which is a terrible way to end masturbation.

But what was I supposed to do with it? Do I throw it out? Do I gift it to somebody? I can’t just drop it off at the local thrift store.

There’s a big part of me that didn’t want to get rid of it. I was still kind of sentimental about it, and besides, it looked like a fun toy if I could ever bring myself to use it. I wanted to try a dildo even before I met Rob (I had a vibrating dildo a long time ago, but it’s been ages since I used one).

Plus, I’m kind of a frugal lady. Getting rid of a perfectly good dildo seemed so wasteful.

I decided to keep the dildo, but it kept its place in the back of my drawer. Any time I thought about actually using it, it felt emotionally triggering. I felt sad over what happened. I felt embarrassed that I had bought this toy and the whole thing just blew up in my face. And I just felt hurt by the entire thing.

I thought if I was just horny enough, I could ignore all that and just fuck myself. But no amount of arousal made me forget all those feelings.

Mr. Austin and I started jokingly referring to my new dildo as the Ghost Dick. A fitting name for a toy that represents someone who’s not in my life anymore, and a toy that I keep close by but can’t use.

Fucking the Ghost Dick

Eventually, I got over things. There was no major epiphany, no conscious decision to just move on, no big event — just time slowly healing me.

I still feel sad when I think about Rob. I miss the friendship we had, especially since it’s so hard for me to find and foster that kind of closeness with others. But I didn’t think about it as often. And when I did, it didn’t hurt as much as it did before.

My feelings about the Ghost Dick softened, too. I could think about it a bit more like a dildo, without always having to just think of it as a surrogate for Rob’s cock.

When I thought about using the dildo, it wasn’t as heartbreaking of a thought anymore. Mostly, it just seemed fun.

I considered using it by myself. Masturbating alone is a very safe space for me, so I wouldn’t have to worry about how I would react. Whether it ended in an orgasm or tears (or both), I could just sit with those feelings and process them at my own pace.

The thought kept popping into my mind. I told myself I should use it. But I would always forget about it when I was in the middle of anything sexy.

I guess after weeks and months trying to push it out of my mind I finally succeeded.

Then, one night when I was having sex with my husband, I remembered it.

It occurred to me while we were having anal sex. One of the reasons I wanted a dildo is so I could find out what double penetration feels like — or at least, sort of feels like. Now was my chance.

I asked Mr. Austin to get the dildo and some water-based lube from the drawer.

I laid on my side and Mr. Austin fucked my ass slowly while I lubed up the dildo and gradually worked it into my pussy.

With my husband’s cock and the Ghost Dick rhythmically working both my holes, I felt a lot of things. I felt pleasure from being stimulated in two ways at once. I felt pressure from being so filled up. I felt some mild discomfort from having picked a position that’s comfortable for anal but maybe not the best for taking two cocks.

But the one thing I didn’t feel was sad.

I pushed the uncomfortable thoughts out of my mind. If I hadn’t, I’m sure I would’ve felt at least a little heavy-hearted. But I had plenty of other things to focus on instead. I just kept pushing the base of it with my hand and feeling relief that after months of hurt feelings, I could finally enjoy my sex toy.

Ghost Sex

The Ghost Dick will never not remind me of Rob. Even though I’m using it now, the dildo is keeping that name because it still feels, faintly, like I’m fucking a representation of him when I use it.

Even though my feelings aren’t as raw as they used to be, I’m still keeping the dildo near the back of my drawer. I’m not always in the right mindset to take it out and play with it. But it’s there for me whenever I’m in a good enough place to use it.

Whenever a relationship ends, there’s a part of me that wants to erase it, to get rid of the hurt by getting rid of every single trace that it ever existed. But in the end, I always keep something.

I get to keep the lessons I learned. Because of that whole ordeal, I know how to watch out for entanglements that seem attractive but just aren’t right for me.

I get to keep all the ways I’ve grown and changed as a person. I learned a lot about myself in my conversations with Rob and in the ways I handled everything that happened after. I even strengthened my primary relationship through all of this and I’d like to think I’m a better wife because of it.

I get to keep the memories — the good ones, the bad ones, and the bittersweet ones.

And this time, I get to keep something I normally don’t have at the end of a relationship. I get to keep the Ghost Dick.

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