Haunted House - Cover

Haunted House

Copyright© 2004 by Switch Blayde

Chapter 4

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 4 - A Halloween "who-done-it" story (with sex of course).

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Mystery   Paranormal   Ghost   Anal Sex   Oral Sex   Halloween  

The Smithers giggled, sitting at the kitchen table. Mr. Smither poured his tea from the cup into the saucer and blew over the top, and then brought it to his lips. He slurped and belched loudly. Mrs. Smither stared at the old, ugly figure as her finger twirled inside her ear trying to dislodge something bothering her.

"Too bad that boy won't be around," Mrs. Smither said, her eyes going vacant as she reminisced. "He had a nice hard cock. Not like the wimpy one I'm used to."

"Well, I'll miss that blonde cheerleader's tight wet pussy. I'm stuck with an old hag's dried up one. And, man, her ass was even tighter."

They continued laughing, jibing each other with merriment. And then they stopped laughing when they heard a loud crash. Running to the parlor, they found pieces of a shattered vase on the floor. Looking at each other in confusion, Mrs. Smither shrugged and was about to get a broom and dustpan when they heard a door slam on the second floor. Mr. Smither retrieved his shotgun, cracked it open and inserted two new shells, then snapped it shut. Stuffing extra cartridges into his pocket, the two hobbled up the stairs. Mr. Smither kept a finger on the trigger as the muzzle of his shotgun led the way, cautiously conducting a room by room search. Mrs. Smither crouched behind her husband with a hand on his shoulder, peering nervously around him. When they entered the bedroom Sandy had used, Mr. Smither stopped so suddenly that Mrs. Smither bumped into him. Ropes were tied to the four bedposts and stretched on the mattress, pointing to the center of the bed where the blindfold, gag, and chloroform lay.

Mr. Smither looked right, and then left, and then slowly walked towards the bed, almost on tiptoes. "What the... ?" the old lady yelled when she saw her husband's shotgun fly across the room. Then she saw her husband's feet leave the ground, and then he crashed to the floor, groaning as he grabbed his back. Mrs. Smither took a step to assist her moaning husband ... and then she fell, face first. The stunned woman looked dumbly at her feet, at her shoelaces tied together.

"Lucinda, I think that's a good start," the ghost said to his wife.

"Yes, dear, but it's just a start. These people are evil and need to be punished. And we need to make sure that poor boy doesn't suffer further."

"What did you say?" Mrs. Smither asked.

"Huh? I didn't say nothing," her husband responded. "My fuckin' back is killing me."

"What's that?!" Mrs. Smither cried out.

"What's what?"

"Those two lights. They flew toward that wall and disappeared."

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