© 2012 by Kiki Wellington. All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,
or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior
written permission from the author.
is a 13,000 word work of fiction by Kiki Wellington. All names,
characters, and events are products of her horndog imagination. Any
resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely
ONLY PLEASE. Supernatural
contains sexually explicit material and adult language. This story is
not appropriate for children and may be offensive to some readers.
were drawn to the house because it was old. We wanted a place with a
lot of character and a lot of history. I guess that's what happens
when two history geeks get married—they want to make everything in
their lives about history in some way. Even their homes.
a history professor with a specialty in American politics. I find it
boring, but this stuff really turns him on. The history that I enjoy
is probably a little less cerebral, but, to me, it’s a lot more
fun. I'm an art history professor, so I can give you an
interpretation of just about anything ever committed to canvas, but
I’d be hard pressed to tell you much about the country’s history.
Hell, I can't even name all of the U.S. presidents to be honest.
suppose that's what makes us a great team. He brings intellectualism
to the relationship and I bring my highbrow imagination. But I have
to admit, sometimes my imagination does run away with me.
I promise you, was not one of those times.
was a professor at our school that we had known for many years. When
he was offered a position at a college in another state, he needed to
sell his house right away. Michael and I thought this was a great
opportunity to do what we'd always talked about—starting a little
bed and breakfast on the outskirts of town. This was all so
serendipitous, and the best part was that we'd already seen the house
before. James hosted dinner parties for faculty members from time to
time, and we always left thinking about what a marvelous house he had
and how awesome it would be to buy it from him one day.
as our realtor suggested, we did get a closer look—a look that
doesn't come from a friend, but from a potential buyer. Although we
loved the house, we acknowledged that it needed some work to
transform it into our vision of the perfect little B&B, and we
still had to make sure that the house wouldn't fall apart under our
also liked some of the furniture in the house. We told James that we
would make an offer for it if he and his wife decided that they
needed to travel light. We didn't intend to keep all of it, but some
of the pieces were absolutely perfect for our vision of the guest
rooms. There was one room in particular that really spoke to me—I
guess this is where my artistic nature comes into play. The furniture
looked a little old, but it was beautiful.
furniture I liked the most was in their son’s old room, which they
hadn't changed in years, despite the fact that he had died in the
first Gulf War. Everyone told them that it wasn't healthy to keep a
shrine to their son, especially after all these years, but they just
didn't have the heart to throw his things away. They didn't have any
other children. They didn't want him to go to war, but there was a
passion inside him, a love of country that his academic parents
couldn't quite understand. My husband knew it: Michael had served in
the National Guard in order to get help with his college tuition.
Although he never saw any action, Michael felt a great sense of pride
that he was part of something so noble, something so much bigger than
when my husband saw the framed black-and-white photograph of Jesse
hanging in his old room, it was his idea to keep it there and to
salvage as much of Jesse's furniture as we could. People like being a
part of history, and if they can sleep in the former bedroom of a war
hero, Michael felt that it would add an extra layer of charm to our
I looked at Jesse's picture, and I admired him in his uniform and
studied his perfectly-chiseled face, completely symmetrical, I had to
agree with my husband. Jesse was an attractive young man. If he were
still alive, I probably would've asked him to model in one of my nude
sculpture classes. I felt bad that James and his wife had lost their
son at such a young age. No one should have to go through the
heartbreak of burying their own child, barely 24 years of
age—especially when he seemed to have such a great future ahead of
having old photographs of a war hero would definitely add a certain
level of charm to the house. Little details like these, I imagined,
would bring people back to our B&B over and over again.
had no idea at the time, but that was just the half of it.
deal was done. The house was ours. I was elated. I couldn't wait for
us to move in—even though we were only planning to spend weekends
at the house. There was quite a bit of work that needed to be done
before we could open, so unfortunately, we were not going to be able
to start having guests until the fall. That was okay, though, as
Michael reminded me of how many people come to the area after the
summer has turned to fall.
I can't blame them: It's probably the most beautiful time of year
when the leaves start turning colors and slowly taking up residence
on the ground. Although it could get a little bit nippy out here,
people who want to go hiking in the nearby woods could still enjoy
themselves without feeling too uncomfortable or cold.
did a lot of painting those next few weeks. We had plumbers come in
and replace the rusting, old pipes. The back porch and the roof
needed a bit of work, but luckily Michael's brother is a contractor,
so we only had to pay for his materials—we got his time in exchange
for a few free weekends with his girlfriend at the bed and breakfast.
It certainly wasn't a big deal since we had two other rooms that
guests could occupy when Bill and Traci were here. Anyway, it was a
bargain that we couldn't afford to refuse.
finally got to move in. There wasn't a big hurry since we would
primarily live at the other house, as it's closer to our school. We
had always planned to stay there on nights we were teaching, and then
open up the bed and breakfast on weekends and during breaks from
really wanted to add a personal touch to each of the guest rooms.
But, before I could do them justice, I had to figure out what was
special about them. My husband thought I was crazy, but I insisted
that I needed to sleep in each room for a while so I could get a feel
for them—then I could add the personal touch that the room was
asking for. That's where my artist comes in. Michael thinks in more
practical terms, and I wanted everything to be in its perfectly
that first night when I was on my artistic mission, my husband slept
in the master bedroom alone, and I ventured into one of the guest
rooms. It was actually Jesse's old room. I thought it was nearly
perfect the way it was, but there was always room for
improvement—there always is. We had kept much of Jesse's old
furniture and we really wanted to play up the idea that this was the
room of a war hero, left in the state it was when he left this world.
admired his photo whenever I came into the room. My heart ached for
him at times, thinking about how much James and his wife loved their
son, and how Jesse had everything in the world to look forward to
when he was tragically killed in the war.
fell asleep thinking about Jesse and how our customers would respond
to his story. I'm not usually a patriotic person like Michael is, but
I did feel a sense of pride being near Jesse's photo, sleeping in the
room where he slept in the years leading up to his deployment, and
sitting at his desk writing notes—thinking about the notes that our
future guests would write and the postcards they would send when they
bed was warm and inviting. I had just bought new bedding for all of
the rooms and the sheets and blankets felt clean and soft against my
body. The colors were soft and somewhat girlie—something I thought
our female guests would appreciate.
didn't take long for me to drift off. It usually doesn't. You would
think that I was narcoleptic; I can fall asleep at the drop of a hat
almost anywhere. This is something that tends to annoy Michael, since
he drifts into his sleep slowly, and as we lie in bed together, he
gets incredibly excited. He doesn’t understand how I can sleep when
his cock is standing at attention and pressed up against my body.
That's not to say that I won't have sleepy sex with Michael, but he
prefers it when I'm more alert and involved.
I started to fall asleep that night, I could feel the warmth of the
bed all around me. I was comforted by the cool breeze that came in
through the window above my head. The sounds of nighttime served as
my lullaby, as I drifted further and further into sleep.
I felt it. It was like a warm wave that caressed the back of my neck.
It didn't quite wake me up, but I acknowledged that it was there—like
I always do when I feel my husband's breath against my neck as we
cuddle. The feeling became heavier and heavier and I began to wonder
if my husband actually climbed into bed with me. I reached behind me
and, of course, he wasn't there. There was nothing there but sheets,
a heavy blanket, and some pillows.
could still feel it though, and it felt really nice. I didn't mind it
so much; I just figured my imagination was running away with me a
little bit because I was so tired. That happens to me a lot and when
the thoughts start flooding in, there's no telling where they'll go.
thought it was a dream at first. The slow, deep breathing against my
neck continued, and it felt like there were arms around me. I
shrugged it off; I figured I was lucid dreaming since I had read
about it in a magazine article a couple of weeks ago.
was soothing. I enjoyed it.
I felt a slight tug on the back of my nightgown. I knew I had to be
dreaming. There was no way anyone was pulling my nightgown when
clearly I was still alone.
did you sleep last night?" Michael asked me as he came up behind
me and put his arms around my waist while I flipped the omelet.
really didn't feel like explaining my lucid dreaming episode to him.
He thinks I'm crazy enough as it is.
it was fine," I said hurriedly, sliding his omelet onto a plate
and handing it to him.
this looks delicious."
my guinea pig; I need to test our menu before we open."
seems like you have to test out everything before we open,"
laughed Michael. I watched his mouth as the fork full of eggs and
cheese entered it.
want everything to be perfect, you know that. If we're opening up our
home to guests, I want them to feel at home too."
get that. But is it really necessary for you to sleep in all of the
rooms?" He gulped his orange juice and looked at me the way he
looks at me when he thinks I'm acting weird.
it's the little details that are going to make our business special.
I want the rooms to tell me what they want. I don't want to just go
out and buy a lot of things that aren't right for the house."
think we've been married too long," he laughed. "I actually
understand what you mean. I suppose that Rembrandt had to go to mass
before painting the Sistine Chapel."
slapped his hand gently, reprimanding him. "How many times do I
have to tell you that the Sistine Chapel was painted by
many times do I have to tell you that Monroe was our fifth
I said smiling. I know when I've been outsmarted.
how was it? Sleeping in that room? Did you get any ideas?"
I have to sleep in all the rooms to know for sure what we need for
suppose you do," he laughed. "I still missed you last
chomped on my toast, thinking that I needed to buy a new toaster
because the bread wasn't evenly cooked. As I went to reach for the
butter, Michael intercepted my hand and kissed it gently. We stared
into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever. Every day it
just felt like I loved him more and more and more and more.
wondered if maybe Michael had come into the room last night just to
make fun of me. I needed to know, but I didn't really want to ask
him. At least not directly.
how did you sleep last night? This is a big thing—the first night
in our new home."
was the weirdest thing, Jeannie; I was out like a light. I slept the
way you usually do. It didn't take me long at all to fall asleep, and
once I did, I was pretty much a log the rest of the night. At least,
until I smelled the culinary masterpiece that you were making for
this hungry guinea pig."
said it all. He didn't climb into bed with me last night. Or, at
least, he wasn't admitting to it.
figured since it wasn't the first time my imagination ran away with
me, I shouldn't worry about it.
slept in the second guest room the next night. From what James told
me, that one was hardly ever used. Usually people spent the night
there when they were visiting from out of town—like in-laws at
Christmas, or old friends from college coming by on Super Bowl
weekend to relive old times. This room didn't have a strong
personality like Jesse's room did. It wasn't haunted by the ghost of
a former occupant. It was just...well...a room.
was colder that night, so I only slightly cracked the window at
first. I usually sleep better when there is a bit of a breeze. I
didn't get under the covers right away, I just laid still on the bed,
feeling the cold air press against my nightgown. I enjoyed how it
felt against my body, especially when the wind circled around my
nipples until they got hard and poked up through my clothes. I liked
the feeling of air racing up and down my stomach. I often sleep naked
for that reason—which drives Michael wild, even though he knows how
much it takes to wake me.
slipped off my nightgown to enjoy the cool air running over my body.
Even though it was getting chillier by the minute, I wanted to feel
more of it. I got up out of bed and opened the window on the other
side of the room, so the wind would blow through and caress me. I
laid naked on the bed, enjoying how the cool blanket felt so soft
against my back and I rubbed my ass against it to enjoy the coolness
of the nighttime air.
thought about inviting Michael into the room, but I just wanted to
experience it alone. I arched my back as the wind tickled my nipples
some more and I felt a little excited trickle of wetness develop
between my slightly-opened legs.
then it started: I felt a caress on the side of my neck as if fingers
were stroking my skin. I closed my eyes and sighed, thinking about
the comfort I felt from the touch I was clearly imagining.
as I started to fall asleep, I heard a whisper right in my ear.
want you. I want you so bad," said the soft voice of a man in my
was no way I imagined that. And there was no way it was Michael. The
door was closed; I would've seen him if he came into the room. What
on earth is going on here? I wondered.
of me felt like I should have been afraid. But, I felt so much
comfort from the sound of that voice in my ear. It had to be my
imagination. I was half asleep after all, so I must have been
rolled over on my stomach and felt the softness of the blanket
against my legs, my stomach, and my breasts. Suddenly, I felt a
sensation on my leg, running up and down, as if large fingers were
caressing me. The fingers massaged me, and moved up my legs until
they stopped in the middle of my butt.
I heard it again.
want you so bad," the voice said more forcefully in my ear.
that voice again scared me, so I quickly got underneath the covers
and pulled them over my head. My heart pounded and I eventually fell
slept in the master bedroom the next night, taking a reprieve from my
decorating experiment. Although the strange and pleasurable
experiences were nothing less than arousing, and kind of hot in a
weird way, I missed feeling my husband's chest against my back when I
slept nestled beside him. I missed being able to reach out behind me
and feel him next to me. I missed feeling his stiff cock pressed
against my thighs in the morning. Until Michael and I got together, I
wasn't a fan of morning sex. But something about him—the feel of
his manhood in the morning and the smell of him—made me want to
fuck him senseless most mornings.
he would soon be going away on a business trip for a while. There was
a history conference that professors from all over the country
attended, including James, so Michael would be gone for a week with
him at the event. Then, the two of them planned to do what they
described as "man stuff" for about half a week after the
conference. I wasn't worried about that; Michael would be working so
hard when the semester started that it was a good idea for him to
unwind before then. Plus, there was plenty for me to do here.
laid in bed that night, and I listened to his breathing getting heavy
as he started to fall asleep. He had to wake up early the next day
because, as the chair of the department, there was always a lot of
work for him to do—whether school was in session or not. I couldn't
sleep that night. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened in
the other bedrooms. It was odd, but it felt so good. I didn't know
what to make of it. It would be a while before it became clear to me
what was going on. All I knew was that I enjoyed the feeling of
warmth that surrounded me when those things happened. I felt relaxed
and I just let the wave of whatever it was wash over me. I wasn't
about to analyze it—at least not yet.
had his arms around my waist and was beginning to snore. I love the
sound of his snore. I know that sounds weird, but it's just a
beautiful thing when you have someone lying next to you who
completely trusts you enough to go into a deep sleep like that. I
really enjoyed that. And I like the feel of his hands resting on my
stomach. I started to doze off myself, enjoying this feeling of love
and peace from being in this beautiful home, lying next to the man
that I love, and getting ready to start this new adventure with our
bed and breakfast. I couldn't wait until the house was finished, and
we could start having guests here. I wanted them to feel as content
when they spent the night here as I was feeling at that moment.
I started to feel it. It was like a hand resting on my cheek. I could
feel fingers running up and down my face like a blind man using the
tips of his fingers to figure out what I look like. I knew this
wasn't a coincidence, and I knew it wasn't Michael since his hands
were resting on my stomach. And it wasn't as though something like
this hadn't happened before. It was happening just about every night
since we started sleeping at the new house.
of me was somewhat nervous. It seemed as though this thing, whatever
this was, could come at any time, whenever it wanted to. It felt like
an invasion of privacy at times, but I still couldn't help but enjoy
it. A lot. I liked being watched. I liked being touched. I just kept
my eyes closed as this imaginary hand gently stroked up and down my
wasn't long before I got incredibly excited from this touching. It
had been a couple of days since I was with my husband, with both of
us being so busy and all, so it was about time I did something to fix
started slowly moving my hips against Michael; as I was grinding my
hips into his crotch, I could feel his cock start to wake up against
one of the cheeks of my ass. He had not completely woken up yet, so I
pushed my ass against him more and more. As he woke up, he started to
reciprocate, grinding his cock into my ass and moaning softly. I
continued rotating my ass against his stiff rod and he massaged my
stomach, in circular motions, with both hands. I reached my arm
behind my back and started to caress Michael's face, much like the
caress that I had been feeling moments ago.
insides began to ache for Michael, and I could feel myself getting
wetter and wetter. I just couldn't wait any longer to have Michael
deep inside me. I gently pushed him over so that he was lying on his
back. I took off my black nighty, and threw it on the post at the
foot of our bed. I climbed on top of him, still in my black lace
underwear, and gently moved my hips up and down against his crotch.
As I teased his dick slowly, it seemed to get harder and harder as
the minutes ticked on.
I liked the feel of the lace against my clit as I rubbed my sexy
underwear against Michael's throbbing, rock-hard cock, I needed more.
I needed a lot more. I quickly removed my panties, and threw them
somewhere—God only knows where they ended up—and I stroked my
clit against the head of his cock as I leaned over his chest. I
kissed up and down the side of Michael's neck and he moaned in my
ear. He used his hands to explore my back until he reached my ass and
squeezed both my cheeks. My clit and his cock continued to do a slow
dance together as they exchanged sensations and juices. I was so wet
I couldn't even stand it anymore.
pushed myself upward and shifted my body until I was mounting him.
The breeze felt so good against my body, and his hardness felt so
good inside of me. I ground my hips up and down, taking his complete
length in and out of me. I thrust my pussy against him, and as I
moved his length in and out of me, I could feel the head of his cock
brushing against my clit in rhythmic motions.
closed his eyes and enjoyed my ride. And then it happened. I felt
fingers rubbing against my soft nipples. It felt like the caress
against my face and my nipples stood up at attention as this strange
sensation circled them, around and around and around again. I
couldn't control myself. I didn't know what was going on with me, if
I was losing my mind or not, but I knew this felt so good. I
continued to ride my husband's cock, with wild abandon, as we both
moaned and grunted in the hot pleasure of the moment.
sensation on my tits became even more intense. It cupped my breasts
and squeezed them harder and more deliberately, periodically circling
and pinching my achingly hard nipples. I knew this couldn't be
Michael, his hands were above his head and he was hanging onto the
bed post. I didn't know what it was, and I didn't care. I continued
to take Michael's cock in and out of me, as he quickly lifted his
hips to meet my thrusts.
leaned backwards slightly, and it felt as if there was a body behind
me. I could still feel the warm sensation against my tits and my
nipples were being methodically massaged and squeezed. I felt as
though I was in a weird ménage à trois, with my husband beneath me
and my horny imagination behind me.
rode Michael's cock quickly and with each thrust, I pushed him deeper
and deeper inside of me. My pussy tightened around his rod and he
moaned in ecstasy. I felt the wave of orgasm come through me at that
same time and I let out a huge gasp.
we were done, I fell on top of Michael—sweating, panting, and a
little bit confused. I ran my hands up his arms to meet his hands. I
didn't feel anyone touching me anymore, so again I chalked it up to
my overactive artistic brain.
wasn't long before Michael and I were back where we began, lying on
our sides, with Michael's hands around my waist and resting on my
stomach. He softly snored in my ear again. I kind of missed the
phantom touch against my cheek.
we were both fast asleep.
woke up the next day to the smell of bacon. I felt like I was
dreaming again, or hallucinating again, because Michael rarely ever
cooks. I wandered downstairs to the kitchen, to find my husband in
his blue terry cloth bathrobe, standing in front of a frying pan.
brought this on?" I asked.
wanted to surprise you."
You're so sweet," I said as I gave him a hug. "Color me
made us a cheese omelet and some bacon. It's almost ready."
is a pleasant surprise." I sat at the dining room table to find
another pleasant surprise—a glass of orange juice waiting for me.
He handed me a plate and sat down across from me.
was something last night," he said as he munched on a piece of
smiled. "It sure was."
it's the other way around, with me trying to wake you up to seduce
there's always room for something new," I said as I lifted up my
fork and watched a string of cheese expand from the plate. "But
not when it comes to cheese. God, cheese is one of my most favorite
things in the whole world."
know," he said, looking across the table at me and smiling
sweetly. I put my hand on top of his and we just looked into each
other's eyes for a few seconds, as if we were taking a love break
from eating our breakfast.
he got a slightly more serious look on his face. "What do you
think about the house so far?"
know I love it. I can't wait for the B&B to open. I hope the
guests enjoy the house as much as I do. Why? Is something wrong?"
nothing's wrong. It's just that there's so much to do to get the
house ready to open in the fall. And I have to worry about school.
You do too, by the way."
can teach intro to art history in my sleep—you know that. I'll be
ready for the semester. And the house will be ready too."
forget, there's a faculty meeting tonight. I was thinking about
staying at the other house, so I don't have to make the long drive
back here. Do you want to come with me?"
rather stay here. I just want to keep working on the house, and we
need to start thinking about how we're going to market our business."
you're the artist."
you're the muse," I said as I savored the last bite of my
I remembered there was something else I needed to do to get the house
ready. "Hey, when is the next time you're planning to speak to
James before the conference?"
in the next couple of days. Why?"
I wanted to find out more information about Jesse. To help me finish
his room. They've never really talked too much about him to me. Do
you know anything?"
really. I think it's been too painful for them to talk about him. I
don't think they even spent any time in his room after he died. It
seems like they just closed it off and tried to forget about it."
too bad. Do you think they'll talk to me about him?"
I know that James said he really likes the idea of us honoring their
son. I don't think they'll be too tight lipped about it."
hope not. I really want the room to feel authentic."
stood up and came toward me with his sweet lips puckered. He firmly
placed his mouth on my forehead and made a funny noise that
reverberated around my whole face. "I have to jump in the shower
now," he said. "I have work to do to get ready for the
slept in the last guest room that night. Michael was at the other
house, and although I felt a little lonely without him here, I was
glad that I was able to spend some time alone. Maybe I could get to
the bottom of all those weird feelings I'd been having in this house.
I just absorbed the room, thinking about ways I could make it feel
like home for our future guests.
also thought about marketing. After the house was finished, I wanted
to take photographs so that we could put them on our website. It was
a lot of work, but I was having so much fun. It felt good to realize
a dream that Michael and I had talked about for so long. Everything
couldn't be about teaching and academia. This was something we could
do together that would give us both the opportunity to get out of our
heads for a while and just enjoy what was going on around us. There
is so much beauty out here in the country. It was so calm, so still;
it felt like a Monet painting come to life.
thought about what kind of art work I would buy for the house, and
where I was going to get it. Obviously, this place had to be filled
with art. The whole house had become my canvas and, little by little,
I was filling up every inch with a piece of my heart.
though it was chilly, I opened up all of the windows on the top floor
of the house. Coolness and stillness had become a natural part of
being here. I loved that. I loved how I could just unwind and enjoy
laid on the bed and watched as the thin, light blue curtains swirled
around with the breeze that came inside. It felt so good; I just
wanted to be naked right then. I took my clothes off and rested my
warm body on top of the cool covers, like I had done the other night.
I'm going to be completely honest with myself, I knew what was coming
and I wanted it to happen again. That's part of the reason why I was
a little happy that Michael didn't plan on coming back that night. I
spoke to him after his meeting, and he sounded so tired—it was
probably for the best anyway. But I was more focused on myself,
wanting to feel this strange pleasure around me all night long. I
didn't know where it came from, but I knew I wanted to feel it
covering me again. Every night seemed to bring a new sensation, a new
seductive joy, and I wanted to experience it as often as I could.
wasn't long before I did. I was half asleep, and I felt a little
tickle on my toes. I was lying on my back, and I opened one of my
eyes to see if I could get a glimpse of whether or not this thing was
real. But there wasn't anything there, and yet I felt fingers playing
in between each of my toes.
closed my eyes and smiled. I just wanted to enjoy the moment, and not
worry so much about what was there. I felt my legs being caressed
gently. Fingers danced up and down both of my legs at the same time.
I was at peace and my whole body tingled. I wanted more of this—a
whole lot more.
boy oh boy, did I get it that night.
felt my legs gently being pried apart and sensations dancing up and
down my inner thighs. I moaned. That's when I heard it again. It was
that voice—as plain as day and as surely as I'm talking to you
right now—and it said "I want you. I really want you." It
was a low male voice. I shook my head a little bit in disbelief. I
could explain away the feelings, just brush them off as my
imagination. But hearing this voice again? I couldn't explain that.
voice slowly repeated its demands: "I. Want. You."
guess I should've been scared out of my mind at that point, but in
that moment, nothing else mattered but the warm feelings I had. I
arched my back and looked at my nipples as they perked up, longing to
have someone pinch them, suck them, knead them between horny
fingertips. That was my way of saying yes. Whoever you are or
whatever you are, I don't care right now. I just want you to take me.
I just want you to do to me what you want to do to me.
sighed and enjoyed the imaginary fingers that slowly caressed my
inner thighs. I tilted my head back against my pillow and moaned
softly. Then I felt the fingers opening up my pussy lips, exposing me
to the still and nippy air in the room. I felt like a Georgia
O'Keeffe flower blooming, opening, blossoming in the ecstasy of that
exquisite touch. I was wide open for a finger circling the tip of my
clit, slowly rubbing me clockwise, and then counterclockwise. I
gulped. I couldn't believe what was happening. This was like
masturbation on steroids. My vibrators and dildos could do a lot, but
they couldn't arouse me quite like this.
finger started circling around my clit faster and faster and faster.
My heart raced. The next thing I knew, there was a thrust inside of
me. It felt bigger than a finger. It was like a huge, imaginary dildo
that had shocked and awed my pussy walls from the sheer force of its
blitz attack. I cried out and writhed beneath its power. I couldn't
believe how good it felt. I raised my head slightly just to make sure
that there wasn't anything or anyone there with me. There wasn't. It
was strange, but I didn't care.
laid my body back down and enjoyed being fucked like that. I could
feel the throbbing, hard imaginary thing being pushed in and out of
me, getting deeper and deeper every time it invaded my aching pussy.
I started rocking my hips back and forth, into the bed and then into
the unknown. My juices poured out of me. My imaginary lover started
to tease me, pulling out of me and making me wait restlessly in my
wet anticipation. Then it felt like the powerful head of a cock came
slightly into me. Just as I pushed myself up to meet the sensation,
it would pull out again. A small portion of the hardness would enter
me again and then cruelly pull itself out of me. And just when I
thought I would explode because I couldn't take it anymore, it
slammed all the way into me and I pushed my hips forward to meet the
strength of its energy. I watched as the curtains rocked back and
forth in the wind, much like my hips. The hard, invisible sensation
ground into me deeper and deeper, and with every hard thrust, I felt
like I would completely lose my mind in orgasmic pleasure.
it continued pounding my pussy, I reached down to play with my
aching, hot clit. My wetness drizzled through my fingertips as my
imaginary lover deeply penetrated me, like a sexual jackhammer trying
to tear me open piece by piece. I rubbed my fingers quickly against
my clit and I continued to thrust my hips into the chilly night air.
body shivered as the waves of orgasm shot up from my crotch and
pulsated its way to my face. I was flushed, I was wet, and I just had
the most intense orgasm I'd ever felt in my life.
tried not to think about the fact that I was alone, exploring this
without the help of any power tools. It was just me and...I didn't
wouldn't be long before I finally figured it out.
appreciate you coming over tonight," I said to James and Janet
as I handed them each a glass of wine. I took my place next to
Michael at the table, and nibbled on some cheese from the platter of
funny coming here as a guest," James said.
laughed. I could imagine how that would be the case.
are you settling in to your new home?" Janet asked me.
love it, don't we, Michael?" I asked as I smiled at my husband.
going to be great when we open up our bed and breakfast. This has
been something we've talked about for years—and I guess a part of
me never thought it would actually happen."
Michael," I laughed, "It would've happened. We have to
retire sometime. But I'm thrilled to be able to start the business in
such a beautiful home."
glad to hear that you're enjoying it. We had many happy years here. I
hope you do too," said James.
was the perfect chance to find out what I needed to know. "Funny
you should mention that," I said. "It's part of what I
wanted to talk to you about—your years here. I'm particularly
interested in what Jesse was like. I know Michael told you we want to
honor him in his old bedroom, and I wanted to know more about him so
that I could do him justice."
stared down at the floor, looking as if she was about to cry. "Until
the day I die, I'll never get over it. It's a horrible thing to lose
I saw how she reacted, I felt bad for asking. I certainly didn't want
to rip open any old wounds just for the sake of marketing my B&B.
"I'm sorry. I must sound awfully insensitive to you right now."
that's okay," James jumped in, as he grabbed his wife's hand and
held it in his lap. "I think it's about time we started
celebrating Jesse's life, instead of focusing so much on his death.
He was a hero. I want people to know that."
was he like? Before the war?"
jumped back into the conversation, as a lone tear trickled passed her
cheek, landing on the collar of her blouse. "He was funny. I
would talk to Jesse for hours sometimes and would just laugh and
laugh and laugh. If I was in a bad mood, he always knew what to say
to cheer me up. I always thought he should have been a comedian."
that time he tried? The open mic night when he was in college?"
right, I forgot all about that. It was awful," Janet laughed.
"It was like all the funny had been drained out of him that
night. I felt so bad for him; he was just horrible."
else did he like to do?" I asked, as I poured another glass of
wine for everyone. I hoped we could all loosen up and speak freely.
was really bright. He loved to read."
I noticed all of the books in his closet," I told them. "It
seemed like he was really interested in philosophy."
always wanted to learn new things. He just wanted to know everything
he could know about everything. And he wanted to make the world a
better place. That's why he joined the military. He really wanted to
make a difference in the world."
plan, when he was finished with his obligations to the government,
was to start his own nonprofit organization. I forgot what he said it
was for. Do you remember, Janet?"
think it had something to do with children. He loved kids. Jesse and
Maggie would've had beautiful children together."
she was his college sweetheart. They weren't engaged yet, but he was
planning on asking her to marry him when he got home. Well, you know
how that turned out...."
happened to Maggie?" I asked, really becoming curious about this
moved to another town after Jesse died. But she still writes. We
always hear from her on Christmas. She was such a lovely girl. Now
she's married and has two children of her own."
started out as an awkward conversation about a subject that our
friends didn't want to talk about turned into an evening of memorial
for a war hero who had great plans in life. I had so many ideas for
the room. I couldn't wait to go shopping and get everything I needed.
It was going to be a piece of history, captured in time, for a
wonderful young man with big dreams.
sure, at this point, you have a pretty good idea about what's coming
next. I'm afraid that I didn't. Maybe I'm a little dense, or maybe I
just don't watch enough of the right movies. But still, it took me a
while to put all the pieces together. But not too long.
and James had gone away for their conference and "man stuff".
Janet offered to stay in the house with me to keep me company. Maybe
she still wanted to reminisce about her son, since that door had
finally been opened for her. But I needed time alone. There was a lot
of work to do, and although we still had time to do it, there was no
room to mess around.
felt for Jesse. And I wanted to be near him. So I slept in his room
again. I wondered what his laugh sounded like, and what kind of jokes
he told when he flopped so badly at that open mic night so many years
ago. I wondered who his favorite authors were. I wondered what kind
of life he would've built for himself with Maggie had he survived the
war. This room had to be a testament to all those things. I laid
naked in bed that night and jotted down some notes until I dozed off.
I figured a small American flag was a must, and maybe some old-time
war photographs would help bring the room to life.
that point I heard a sound that was becoming all too familiar—and
want you," said the voice in my ear. "I really want you."
felt as though a body was pressed up against me. I was still half
asleep and not feeling at all threatened. It was comfortable; it was
nice. I enjoyed it. But I still wanted to figure out exactly what was
going on. So I asked.
is this? What are you?"
heard the whisper again—those three little words that were
beginning to make me wet anytime I heard them coming from that
disembodied voice in my ear. "I want you," it said louder,
felt fingers dancing up and down my stomach. Then they cupped both of
my breasts and squeezed. It felt like a thumb was running over my
hardening nipples. Even though I wanted to enjoy the seduction, I
asked what was going on again. I had to know.
are you? What’s going on here?"
that moment, the bed started shaking. I didn't feel safe and warm
there anymore. I felt threatened. I felt scared. I jumped off the bed
and reached for my nightgown so that I could get the hell out of that
room. Right then, Jesse's photograph fell to the floor, and shards of
glass surrounded my feet. I ran from the room, slamming the door
behind me. I had finally put the pieces together, and I felt
terrified. I didn't know what I was going to do. And I couldn't quite
wrap my mind around the fact that I had been having these sensual and
erotic encounters with a...
there was any doubt before that incident that I was dealing with the
supernatural, it became clear to me that night. I bolted into the
master bedroom, locked the door, and jumped into bed to bury my body
under the covers for safety. All night long I heard a pounding on the
door. I was shocked, scared out of my mind, and unsure about what to
do next. Sure, haunted houses attract a lot of visitors—even those
who are willing to spend the night to find out what bumps around
after the sun goes down. But what ghost hunters want to be fondled by
the paranormal? It wasn't exactly something I could warn them about.
They would think I was insane.
also had a more personal concern: I had to live here, even if it was
just on weekends. My husband and I wanted this to be our home. It
wasn't just a business proposition for us. It was about our lives.
now I knew for sure we weren't alone here.
heart pounded, and the cold air that had comforted me every other
night here felt oppressive. I was strangled by fear and the situation
felt more and more hopeless as I listened to the thump, thump,
thumping at my bedroom door.
don't think I slept more than an hour that night. As the morning sun
made its appearance on the side of the house, the banging on my
bedroom door stopped. Maybe Jesse got the point and decided to leave.
I mean, other than a few of his belongings that lingered, he had no
real ties to this house anymore. His parents were gone. There was no
reason for him to want to stay here.
for those nights, I felt conflicted. I couldn't deny that I enjoyed
those feelings; I enjoyed how he pleasured me in the middle of the
night. But how could I wrap my mind around the fact that I basically
had sex with Jesse? It was beyond weird, and the more I thought about
it, the more I thought that maybe I should do something to stop it
once and for all.
have never known much about ghosts or hauntings. I've never had an
experience with it and all I really know is what I've seen in movies
and on television. But what I did know from those horror movies was
that when strange occurrences take place in someone's home, they can
get help from a paranormal investigator. So that's what I intended to
I'd gotten dressed and had breakfast, I grabbed my laptop and made
myself comfortable on the living room couch. I searched for
paranormal investigators and zeroed in on a couple of ghost hunters
in my area. I wasn't entirely sure how this worked: Would I have to
pay them a big fee? If I did, how on earth was I going to explain
that expense to my husband? There was no way I was going to tell him
what was going on. He already thinks I'm a kook, and if I told him
this, he'd think I was a perverted kook who completely lost touch
e-mailed a couple of paranormal investigators after looking at the
cases they've taken on. I didn't get into a lot of detail. I just
told them that I'd purchased a home and I thought that maybe it was
haunted because I was hearing and seeing strange things since I moved
in. I didn't know if they'd ever investigated a paranormal case that
involved sexual encounters, but I didn't intend to bring that up.
was surprised when a paranormal investigator called me within a
couple of hours. I wanted to get him to the house right away, so that
I could get this thing cleared up before Michael came home. He
wouldn't be at all happy with any of this.
is this Jeannie?"
this is Charles. I got your e-mail and I wanted to talk to you about
the paranormal activity you've been experiencing."
you, Charles. I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."
you caught me in between cases."
sighed with relief. He could do whatever it is he does to get this
thing straightened out right away; then I could move on and not think
about what I did with Jesse.
sounded worried in your message. I wanted to make sure that I got in
touch with you as soon as I could. Can you tell me more about what's
been happening at the house?" he asked me.
my husband and I bought this house—it's a little bit old—and
we're planning on opening a B&B here once I finish decorating and
the renovation work gets finished."
you renovating the home completely? You know, oftentimes when you do
extensive work on a house, it dredges up spirit activity that may
have been dormant in the home for a long time."
it's nothing like that. We had to get some of the plumbing redone,
which was taken care of before we moved in. The only thing we really
have to finish is some work on the roof and the back porch. My
brother-in-law is in construction and he's going to do it soon."
kind of activity has been occurring in your house?"
sometimes I feel like I'm being touched by something when no one's
there. I thought it was my imagination running away with me—"
into art, right?"
I'm in art history professor and a painter."
been my experience that highly-creative people can think that their
homes are haunted because they already have such active imaginations.
Most of the time, there are perfectly reasonable explanations for
what is going on."
this point, I began to wonder if getting in touch with a paranormal
investigator was such a good idea. He hadn't even met me yet and he
already thought I was crazy. "You must think I sound crazy,"
I said, trying to convince us both that I wasn't.
Jeannie, not at all. I didn't mean it that way. Please, continue,"
he said reassuringly.
have been several times that I felt like someone was touching me.
When I'm asleep, I get woken up by the feeling of someone kind of
caressing my cheek."
see. Anything else?"
boy, was there.
was going on didn't really scare me, but I wanted to know more about
it. Also, I think I pissed it off last night."
didn't use a Ouija board did you? Did you try to challenge it in any
I asked what it was, you know, like who is this or what is this."
didn't want to mention Jesse. I didn't want to bring him into it. For
all I knew, this had nothing to do with Jesse. He died a war hero,
and I didn't want to debase his memory by making it out like he was a
horny, pissed off ghost who is spending his afterlife feeling up
of a sudden, the bed started shaking and I ran out of the room,"
I continued. "This was in one of the guest rooms. Then when I
got to my master bedroom, I locked the door and there was banging on
the door pretty much all night. I have to be honest with you,
Charles, this scared the hell out of me."
sure it did, Jeannie. Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine.
Would you like for me to come over? I'm busy tomorrow, but the day
after I would be happy to drop by and see what's going on."
you going to perform an exorcism?"
laughed. He got that question a lot. "Probably not. That's
mostly in the movies. We'll conduct some tests and see if our
equipment picks up anything."
see. I read about that on your website."
we talk about all of our investigations."
that mean you're going to post information about my house online?"
I believe in transparency in our work. And it also discourages people
who are trying to play games with us."
don't know what you mean."
me, I'm not accusing you of anything. I take people at their word.
But, I don't like having my time wasted, or my team's time wasted. We
have a lot of expensive equipment, we drive all over the state, and
we don't charge anyone for our time because we want to help people.
But in return, we expect people to be completely honest with us. And
frankly, we can't help anyone who isn't."
understand. I'm telling you the truth."
just saying that I've had situations in the past where people have
pretended that their businesses were haunted to get some publicity. I
won't be fucked with like that, and I have no problem exposing anyone
who tries to pull a fast one on me."
understand, Charles. I'm telling you the truth. But, I mean, I don't
want any negative publicity either. You won't use my address will
not if you don't want me to. I don't know how many of the case
studies that you read through, but we only print our clients' name
and addresses if they give us permission to. I respect your privacy,
and I understand that people can get a bad reputation from being
involved in a paranormal investigation. I don't want to hurt you,
your family, or your business. But, like I said, if you're lying to
me, I'm going to expose that."
That's fair. So, what do I need to do?"
need to coordinate with my team. I'll call you tomorrow and let you
know what time we can get there. I believe you're about a four-hour
drive from me, so I'm thinking we can get there in the late afternoon
or early evening."
I said softly. I was more confused than ever.
everything's going to be fine. If there's something in your house,
we'll help you. Just try to hang in there, okay?"
will. Thank you, Charles."
hung up the phone and just stared at it for the longest time. I
wished Michael was home. I would've called him, but I knew he was
working at the conference—speeches, symposiums, chicken dinners,
the whole lot. I knew he would call me when he was done for the day
and while he told me about his work, I would work to make sure that I
sounded okay because I couldn't let any of this slip.
afternoon, I took a much-needed nap. When I woke up, I felt refreshed
and I couldn't wait to take a hot shower. Even though there's a
bathroom attached to my master bedroom, after I slipped out of my
clothes, I felt like wandering around the house a little bit, so I
walked down the long hallway to the bathroom that the guests would
use. I've always enjoyed being naked—and, of course, seeing other
people naked. It felt good to have the frigid air up against me
again. And it would feel great to have the warmth of steam in the
shower against my exposed skin.
slid open the glass door of the shower and thought about the last
couple of days. As I stepped into the shower, I wondered if maybe I'd
been overreacting. Or maybe I was going mad. I didn't want to worry
about it anymore—I just wanted to focus on the hot water spraying
over my body and how wonderful it felt. I closed my eyes and put my
head directly underneath the water, so that I could enjoy it pouring
down my face as my wet hair clung to my neck and back.