The decrepit old house stood alone high on the hill outside of town. Known as the Connelly mansion, it had become the stuff of many rumors, scary tales, and legends. Some said the place was the scene of a gruesome family murder. Some said it was cursed. And many in town wouldn’t set foot on the property if you paid them...

At one time it had been a real showplace; a shining example of wealth and extravagance. A palatial home for the rich and famous. But now it was run down, forgotten, and neglected.

There had been many people over the years that had bought the old house, hoping to restore it to its former glory. But no one ever stayed there for long. Some left town never to return. Some left without even saying goodbye. And some ... well no one really knows what happened to them!

Timothy Wilson was a slight man. He stood only 5’6 and weighed all of 120 pounds. An ordinary-looking fellow, he wasn’t very handsome. In fact, he got lost in just about any crowd he was in. But he did know a good investment property when he saw it.

You see, that’s how Timothy made his living. He was what’s known as a “house flipper”. He bought houses that needed some renovation or that were in his view good deals, and did what was necessary to get them ready to be sold again – at a substantial profit. He could see beyond the weathering and neglect and estimate the true value of a property.

Timothy had seen the house on the Internet and thought he would check it out. He had never been to that part of the country, and this looked like a good reason to visit. He came to town and looked up who the current realty company that owned the property was. He got in touch with Margaret Simmons, the realtor in charge of the house.

“Hello, My name is Timothy Wilson and I am interested in your listing at 1300 Raven’s Landing Road,” he said when he called Margaret.

She seemed very nervous talking about the property but she was a realtor and it was her job to try to sell it if she could. “Yes, Mr. Wilson. Right now I’m not able to get away from the office but there is a key under the mat at the front door. Just let yourself in and have a look around and let me know what you think.” she said.

That was rather odd! he thought, but he just wrote it off as the way they did things down here and paid no more attention to it. That afternoon, he decided to drive out and take a look around. So he rented a car and drove to the address.

The house was even worse than the pictures on the ‘Net had depicted it. There was a brick wall surrounding three sides of the property with the back a steep rocky cliff overlooking the valley below. There was a rusted old iron gate chained shut at the front of the property, but the gate was open just enough that if the chain was held up, a person could squeeze through. Apparently kids, on a dare from their friends most likely, had done so in the past because he could see marks where the chain had scraped some rust off.

He squeezed through easily, being not much bigger than the kids before, and walked up the overgrown stone driveway to the front of the house. It’s going to take some work just to get the trucks up here to start working on the house he thought.

He stopped as he got closer to the house and made mental notes of the condition. The house was an expansive two-story Victorian-style with a shingled roof, many of which were missing he saw. There were shutters missing or barely hanging on some of the windows and one window on the upper floor was broken out. The steps to the covered front porch were in bad need of repair and he didn’t know how trustworthy the porch itself was. The grass in the front yard looked like it hadn’t seen a mower in years and the shrubs around the perimeter were overgrown and haphazard as well.

He found the key under the old doormat like Margaret has said, and he unlocked the door with a loud creak.

The inside of the Connelly mansion wasn’t much better than the outside. It was plain to see it had been used as a kids party house and/or vagrants’ flophouse as there were beer bottles and trash strewn about and some of the walls had graffiti spray-painted on them.

Timothy sighed. This was going to take some work to be sure, but as he started looking around, he took some solace in the fact the house was structurally sound, if not aesthetically pleasing.

He climbed the stairs, going room to room and making notes on his clipboard of the things that would need work. He was happy to see the electrical and plumbing were in surprisingly good shape and that there were no mold or mildew problems. The hardwood floors seem to be in good shape, although they could use a good cleaning and polishing. And the woodwork like kitchen cabinets and stair railings seem to be in good order as well.

“Well, so far it seems to be mostly cosmetic repairs that need to be done,” he said aloud to himself. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. It would take some time and some work, but it could be done. And once the place looked presentable, it should bring in a tidy sum!

All that was left was to go to the basement and check out the furnace and heating system. This may be the “Deep South”, but it was still known to get chilly at night in the wintertime!

As he went down the less than rock-solid stairs to the basement, he smelled something very peculiar. He couldn’t place the smell, but he knew it didn’t belong there.

“Whew! This place needs a good airing out!” he said. He began to look around to hopefully find the source of the stench and that’s when he saw it.

It was a pine box about seven feet long, two feet wide, and two feet tall. It had four hinges on one side and no handles. The box was closed at the time and Timothy approached it cautiously to investigate it.

As he stood there, he got a deep sense of foreboding and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. But his curiosity and inquisitive nature won out on his common sense and he slowly opened the box.

The mysterious box had only opened a crack when there was a tremendous blast of red smoke and the lid flew completely open. Timothy jumped back startled and was just about to run up the stairs, when a voice called out to him.

“STOP!” It was a female voice. Timothy found himself unable to move – like he was suddenly and inexplicably glued to the cement floor. He heard her heels clicking on the floor as she approached him from behind, but then she walked around him until she was directly in front of him.

“Mmm ... what have we here?” she purred seductively, “And what might your name be, my handsome hero?”

“T-Timothy ... Timothy Wilson,” he stammered. The woman standing in front of him was breathtakingly beautiful, standing around the same 5’ 6” as he was, but she wore six-inch stiletto heels making her taller. She had long straight jet black hair down to the small of her back, an amazing body that was surprisingly voluptuous and appealing, and an outfit cut in just the right places to show it off.

But what caught, and held, his attention most was her piercing eyes. Ice blue, they seem to be able to peer right into his soul. He could not look away. It was like he was entranced by those eyes.

“Well, Mr. Timothy Wilson, it is nice to meet you. My name is Vanessa. I don’t get many visitors here my home ... what is your business here, handsome?” she said. Her words and her voice were like velvet and he couldn’t resist their hypnotic sound.

“Your home? I was under the impression no one owned this house ... that it was for sale,” he said.

“Oh my no! There must be some mistake. I have been here for over 300 years now!” she said.

“Huh? I don’t understand.”

She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “Let me explain. You see, I am a vampiress, a female vampire. I was the original owner of this house ... me and my husband, Stephan. We came to America back in 1710 and finally moved down here and built this house. But my family back in Racovita got into some trouble with some gypsies and was cursed. They cursed my whole family which included me and I became a vampiress. My poor husband died a couple of years later from an illness and I have lived here alone ever since. I don’t know what happened to my family or if any of them are still alive – vampires and vampiresses are not very popular in Romania!

“Y-You are a ... vampire?” he stammered, terrified now.

“Not a vampire, my dear, a vampiress. And do not worry, I do not suck the blood of the living like you think. That is the men’s job – the vampires. No, vampiresses like me go for more substantial meals than just blood.”

“W-what do you...?” he asked, not sure that he wanted to know the answer.

“What do we eat?” she asked. She walked up to him and put her hand on his crotch. “We eat cum. Hot, sweet, man cum, and I can tell by the way you feel you have a lot of it in there. Do you mind, Timothy?” she purred.

Vanessa knelt down in front of the frozen Timothy and using two red tipped fingers she seductively pulled down his pants zipper. She reached in his fly and fished out his cock. With a few practiced strokes, she had him hard as a railroad spike and ready for her mouth.

“Mmm ... I am so going to enjoy this – it has been ages since I last got fed a man’s hot cum!”

She wrapped her soft red lips around his cock and began sucking.

Timothy hadn’t had a woman in longer than he cared to remember. He wasn’t exactly the kind to tear up the dating circuit and his job as a house flipper wasn’t the type that drew the ladies in. While he made a comfortable living, he was by no means rich. And he didn’t have the movie star looks going for him either. So to have this hot sexy woman on her knees in front of him sucking on him like he was a straw in a very thick milkshake was not something he was used to.

“Oh God, Vanessa, that feels incredible...” he moaned almost as soon as she began. She looked up at him and smiled around his cock. Then she returned to her work. Her head bobbed up and down his hard shaft as her lips sealed around the meaty pole. Inside her warm mouth, her tongue was busily caressing the underside of his cock coaxing it to release its precious load.

Vanessa’s hand moved to cup his heavy cum-laden balls lightly massaging them and scratching his scrotum playfully, heating his man-cream to the boiling point as she lavished his cock.

Timothy reached down and held her head with his hands, guiding her in the speed and rhythm that would have him cumming in moments. Never had he felt anything like this before. He was no expert in judging fellatio by any means, but what this woman was doing to him was ... unearthly!

Far sooner than he would have liked, his time had come and he was ready to erupt. Vanessa’s expert cockwork and his lack of experience and lack of activity lately all combined to make short work of this wonderful experience.

“Vanessa ... I’m going ... to cum,” he said, panting for breath to make the words.

Vanessa responded by sucking harder and bobbing her head up and down faster, determined to get him to give up her reward. She felt his cock swell and got ready. Seconds later with a groan Timothy shot the first jet of warm creamy goo into Vanessa’s hungry mouth. She swallowed it down as fast as he could fill her mouth back up. He gave her four or five mouthfuls of sweet cum before he was depleted.