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By George Boxlicker
Copyright 2017 by George Boxlicker
Author’s Note: All persons in these works of fiction are at least 18 years old.
Table of Contents
Melanie and Me in the Haunted House
When I agreed to spend the night with her, I had no idea what to expect.
One of the most run-down houses in an old part of town belonged to Melanie, one of my lady friends. That is, it should have belonged to her but it didn’t because of a quirky provision in her late Aunt Rachel’s will. Mellie was the only heir but her aunt, who didn’t like the idea of absentee ownership of houses, required that her niece spend at least one night in the house before taking ownership of it. To me, this seemed to be quite a simple requirement, one that Melanie could fulfill easily. After staying there, the house and the large attached property would be hers and she could sell them to a builder of apartment houses. One of them had already made her an offer because he wanted to tear down the old structure and construct a high-rise on the site.
To Melanie, it wasn’t that simple. The old house had a reputation for being haunted, partly because of its gloomy appearance, but mostly because of the double murder and suicide that had occurred there. Aunt Rachel had been bisexual and had kept her lesbian side a secret from her husband, Reuben, because he was such a homophobe. One day, when Reuben came home unexpectedly from work, he had found his wife sexually entertaining Alice, a sexy young female member of the household staff. To make it even worse, from the cuckold’s point of view, they were using the bed he had been sharing with Rachel.
Enraged at seeing his wife eating the pussy of the lovely young maid in their conjugal bed, Reuben had taken his gun from the hall closet and shot both women through their hearts. After committing this act of violence, he wrote a complete confession justifying his actions, signed it and killed himself with the same gun. Alice had died immediately but Aunt Rachel had been able to call for help and had died that evening in the hospital. Since she had survived her husband, if only by hours, she inherited the house and land and the property should have subsequently been passed on to her niece and only heir.
Melanie had been just a baby then and, by the age she was old enough to want to take possession of the house, it had gained an extremely unpleasant reputation. According to people in the neighborhood, the ghosts of the two women haunted the house and sexually abused anybody they caught there late at night. Even local homeless men preferred sleeping in cardboard boxes in alleys over staying in the ramshackle old place. Although I have always believed in ghosts, that is, that humans have a spirit that leaves the body upon death, I did not believe in the malevolence of those spirits, largely because I did not believe they would be able to hurt anybody. Sometimes a spirit could be sensed in a place where the former living person had habituated, but there would be nothing tangible and nothing at all dangerous. I used to believe that but, since spending that night in the haunted house with Melanie, I have drastically revised my beliefs.
Since she had no other friend or relative who was close enough to ask and willing to join her, Melanie wanted me to stay with her. I had no problem agreeing, first: because I always do anything, within reason, that my lady friends ask me to do and, second and probably more importantly: because it sounded like fun. Mellie and I really like making love together, and had been doing so since a few days following her eighteenth birthday, so I expected to spend much of the night with my tongue and/or my cock in places where I like them to be and where they are very welcome.
Most of the furniture was still usable but Melanie couldn’t stand the idea of making love and then sleeping in the bed where her aunt had been murdered, so we brought an air mattress, sheets and some blankets against the cool October night. The old house was equipped with a gas furnace, but the fuel supply had been turned off long ago. The fireplace in the parlor and the attached chimney might or might not have been functional, but we didn’t want to risk it. The only sources of warmth available would be our own bodies, wrapped in the sheets and blankets, and that seemed like more fun anyhow.
Since we didn’t really know what would be happening that night we had both decided to wear pajamas and bathrobes but, several hours after we arrived, Melanie’s PJ’s had been completely removed and I was wearing just my pants. I was sucking on her charming breasts and enjoying the aroma of the juices flowing in her pussy, anticipating how good they would taste in a few minutes. Suddenly, we heard a loud whooshing noise, as if a strong gust of wind had pushed open a door, and then a light came on, even though we never saw where its source was. Seconds later, we heard something that put a complete halt to the romantic desires we had been feeling toward each other, at least for the rest of that night.
“Who are you.? What are you doing in my house.? How dare you come here!”
We looked up and saw two women, either of them as naked as Melanie, standing in the middle of the floor. The younger had large breasts and was very comely in a plump way, which is a way I like very much. Her hair was long and brown, and her pubic area was covered with a thatch of the same color. The older woman, who was asking us those questions, was larger and much more formidable in appearance and demeanor. Melanie was especially startled at seeing the latter.
“Aunt Rachel!” she exclaimed.
“Who are you to be calling me ‘Aunt Rachel’?” the older apparition demanded.
“I, I’m Melanie, Aunt Rachel. Melanie, your niece. You haven’t seen me since I was a baby but I’ve seen pictures of you.”
Her Aunt Rachel came closer and peered into Melanie’s face. “Yes, I can see. You look just like your mother did at your age. But, what are you doing here.? I can see what you’re doing but why are you here? And who is this man with you.? He looks a lot like Reuben, the swine.”
“His name is George and he’s my friend. And he’s nothing at all like I’ve heard Uncle Reuben was.” She was 100% right about that. I may be the least homophobic straight man in the world.
“If you say so. But, do you know what we do to people we catch here and who have no business being here?”
“But we have business being here. I own the house now, Aunt Rachel. You left it to me when you died so it’s alright for me to be here.”
“I remember what I said in my will.” Rachel turned to me then and said, “But you have no business here, except monkey business, so you shall pay.”
Until then I had been basically a spectator, looking at the three naked women, one live and the others dead for years. I had also been drastically revising my opinions of ghosts. There was nothing the least bit ethereal in their appearance, especially Alice, who seemed to get sexier the longer I looked at her. Young and buxom, I could see that any straight man or a woman with lesbian inclinations would want to make love with her. Some of my lady friends are bisexuals and they would have loved sex with Alice. When she was alive, that is. Aunt Rachel’s glare and her sudden pronouncement jolted me from my thoughts.
Melanie tried to defend me. “George is with me, Aunt Rachel, so it’s okay for him to be here.”
“You have a point there, my dear, but not a good one. Anyhow, Alice and I are both quite horny so George will have to be the one to take care of our needs.” Aunt Rachel gestured then, and a sudden gust of wind forced me from where I had been kneeling on the mattress, and I ended up on my back on the floor.
With another gust, Melanie was also forced from the mattress although she was treated less roughly than I had been, and landed on a sofa. At a word from her mistress, Alice stepped forward and lay down where we had been, her legs spread and her pussy staring me in the face. It was obvious what was expected of me, not the exact details but the general idea.
Rachel made the details clear. “I saw what you were doing with my niece. Now, do the same thing for Alice, and you’d better do it right if you know what’s good for you.”