Room 13
by WittyUserName
Copyright© 2026 by WittyUserName
Horror Sex Story: Three Knocks in the Night.
Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Fiction Horror Paranormal Rough Anal Sex Cream Pie Facial Oral Sex Tit-Fucking .
“Okay, I found one.”
Ethan didn’t take his eyes off the road as rain hammered against the windshield, the relentless pounding nearly drowning out the steady thump of the wipers. Beyond the glass, the headlights illuminated wet pavement, thick trees, and an obscuring fog. The narrow road twisted through the mountains ahead before disappearing from view.
“Please tell me it doesn’t have the word budget spelled with a K,” he said.
I looked up from my phone. “What?”
“Or cozy with a K.”
“Why would budget have a K?” I frowned.
“I don’t know,” Ethan shrugged. “Businesses do weird things with spellings to try and be cute. I don’t like it.”
“You’re a snob,” I rolled my eyes.
“I’m a man who doesn’t want to be murdered in his sleep,” he replied, running his hand along the sexy scruff on his chin.
Lightning flashed somewhere behind the tree line.
I grinned. “Funny you should mention murder.”
Ethan finally glanced at me. It lasted less than a second before his attention returned to the road, but I was easily able to catch the suspicion on his face. “No.”
“I haven’t even told you yet!”
“Maybe, but I know that look,” he responded.
“What look?”
“The look that leads to us driving forty-five minutes out of our way to see the world’s largest rocking chair,” my boyfriend stated flatly.
“That was totally worth it!” I exclaimed.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Right.”
I turned my attention back to my phone and looked at the website for the Mountain Laurel Motel. The picture at the top showed a long, U-shaped single-story building with a large parking lot. The photo had been taken during nicer weather, and there were flower baskets hanging outside the office. The motel was quite nice, with mountains behind the property and a bright blue sky. It had an old, charming look to it; the kind of motel where you parked directly outside your room.
“They have rooms available,” I said.
“Good, although you still haven’t told me the murder situation.”
“It’s only twelve minutes from here,” I added, ignoring his other comment.
“Great,” he nodded. “So. Murder?”
“It’s haunted,” I grinned.
Ethan sighed. “You waited until I agreed to tell me that.”
I turned toward him, still smiling. “You hadn’t agreed, but too late now.”
“At least there’s no such thing as ghosts,” he laughed lightly.
“You don’t know that!” I argued.
“Yes, I do,” he countered. “Didn’t you hear the news from one of those hadron colliders? It didn’t detect any particles that could explain ghosts, therefore, there are no ghosts.”
“That giant science thing also didn’t detect dinosaurs, but we know those were real,” I told him.
“That’s ... not the same thing.”
I laughed.
Another gust of wind caused the small car to shake slightly as rain fell in a heavy sheet. Ethan leaned forward slightly, both hands tightening around the steering wheel. My laughter died out as I realized I couldn’t see a thing. Hopefully Ethan could.
“You okay?” I asked nervously.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to keep doing this for another hour,” he replied.
Neither did I.
We’d originally planned to make it farther south before stopping for the night. Of course, that had been before the rain started. A light drizzle had become a steady downpour, and then the sky apparently decided to dump the entire Atlantic Ocean onto West Virginia. Our Halloween road trip through the Appalachian Mountains had been going great up until then.
Now I was hungry, my legs were stiff, and my butt was asleep. Ethan was tired and stressed from not being able to see the road. The idea of a warm hotel room was sounding great to me and I was sure Ethan would like something to eat. We’d been together for three wonderful years, and this trip was something we’d been looking forward to for months.
I scrolled. “Four-point-two stars.”
“How many reviews?” he asked, indulging in my love of research.
“Two hundred sixteen,” I answered.
“Any bedbugs?”
“Why would you even put that thought in my head?” I frowned.
“Because you’re looking at ghost stories.”
“No!” I insisted. “I haven’t looked up the ghost stories yet!”
He glanced at me. I blushed.
“I just saw the word ‘haunted’ a couple times,” I admitted.
“Of course you did.”
“Okay,” I stated, tapping the reviews. “Clean rooms, friendly staff, comfortable beds, good water pressure.”
“There we go,” Ethan nodded.
“Quiet.”
“Excellent!” he grinned.
“Oh.”
Ethan groaned. “That sounded expensive.”
“No, listen to this,” I instructed.
“Do I have a choice?” he asked teasingly.
“No.”
I shifted in my seat and read from my phone. “‘Stayed for two nights while visiting family. Room was clean and the owner was nice. Heard footsteps around two in the morning, but when I looked, nobody was there.’”
“Imagination.”
“Wait, it gets better!” I exclaimed.
“I was afraid of that,” he sighed.
“Francesca from Kentucky says ‘someone knocked three times on our door. My husband opened it immediately but no one was there.’”
“Maybe it was on the wall?” Ethan suggested with a smirk. “The couple beside them was having a better time than they were.”
I ignored him and kept scrolling. There were dozens of ordinary reviews between the interesting ones. Complaints about pillows, praise for the price, outrage over a broken ice machine. One person said they’d stayed hoping for ghosts, but there had been no sightings of the “Laurel Lady,” whoever that was.
There wasn’t much consistency to the stories. Some guests mentioned footsteps, others reported knocks. A couple of people claimed to see a woman walking outside late at night. One reviewer claimed something grabbed her foot while she was asleep and tugged on her leg. Most of the reviews treated it as a joke, but I was already sold.
“Apparently she’s been there since the seventies.”
“According to whom?” he scoffed.
“I don’t know, Ethan,” I huffed. “I’m reading internet reviews, not submitting this for peer review.”
“I’m just saying, this is how misinformation spreads,” he laughed.
“You’re such a dork,” I giggled.
“I’m an engineer,” Ethan countered.
“And I’m in marketing,” I rolled my eyes.
“With a minor in ghost hunting,” he teased. “Are you gonna put the address in? It’s been twelve minutes.”
“Shit, right!” I exclaimed, reaching for his phone on the dash mount.
Unfortunately, we had actually gone farther away from Laurel Creek, West Virginia. However, a quick turn had us back on course. While Ethan braved the storm, I booked a Standard King room at the Mountain Laurel Motel. I couldn’t help but throw my hands up when the reservation was confirmed.
“We’re staying at a haunted motel!” I exclaimed.
“Allegedly.”
“On Halloween,” I reminded him.
“Yes, Natalie.”
“In the mountains!”
“The ones I can’t even see right now,” Ethan grumbled.
“With a mysterious ghost woman called the Laurel Lady,” I sighed happily.
“Who’d better respect the Do Not Disturb sign.”
I settled back into my seat, ridiculously pleased with myself. Our original plan had been a perfectly normal roadside hotel. Some generic place where every room looked exactly like every other room in every other hotel we’d ever stayed in. This was so much better; something we’d remember.
Turning my attention back to my phone, I did a search on the Laurel Lady. There wasn’t much. Just a handful of stories. A young woman on a Halloween night in the seventies. Room twelve. Some sort of love story with at least thirty different versions. A lot of it was obviously people just inventing things.
“Wait.”
“I can’t really stop right now,” Ethan sighed as he tried to see through the deluge.
“She died in one of the rooms,” I said.
“That’s generally how hotel ghosts work,” he mumbled.
“Motel.”
“My apologies,” Ethan smiled.
I skimmed the article again. “October thirty-first, 1974. Her name was Evelyn Ward. She was twenty-seven.”
Things were different when the ghost had a name. Proof that they were once a person. One no different from me. A human being who laughed and cried, loved and hated; one with hopes and dreams. What had caused her to become a ghost? Was it unrequited love like one story suggested? Or was it the brutal rape and murder that another claimed?
“What happened?” he asked.
“Doesn’t say,” I sighed. “Just that she died unexpectedly while staying there. There are a lot of different stories.”
“I wonder if the motel invented her,” Ethan mused. “I don’t think it’s unheard of for a business to embrace local legends when those legends encourage people to give them money.’
“You’re no fun,” I sighed, but my actual job couldn’t disagree. “But, you have a point.”
“I know,” he laughed. “I also know you’re excited, so I’m happy to take you.”
“Which is why I love you,” I leaned across the center console and kissed his cheek. “Eyes on the road.”
“I can’t help it,” Ethan said smoothly. “There’s a goddess with raven hair and blue eyes sitting beside me. I can’t help but admire her beauty.”
“Would you like some wine with that cheese?” I giggled.
“Fine, I’ll be less romantic,” he shrugged. “I love your big tits. They look great in that top.”
I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest. “I hope we see her tonight.”
“I hope I see both of those girls tonight,” Ethan waggled his eyebrows and gestured toward my chest.
“Shut up and drive.”
Ethan laughed, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as he drove. I put my dark hair into a braid as we approached the motel. We soon rounded another bend. At first, all I saw was a red glow bleeding through the rain. Then the trees opened. A tall roadside sign stood ahead on the right, its neon humming brightly.
“MOUNTAIN LAUREL MOTEL”
“There!” I pointed.
Ethan slowed and turned onto the street. Through the rain, I could make out a long, low building with a large parking lot. Lights burned above a row of doors, and a handful of cars were parked outside them. It looked exactly like the pictures: old-fashioned, worn, ordinary.
“Happy Halloween,” Ethan smiled
“Best one ever!”
The office looked exactly how I wanted the office of a seventy-year-old roadside motel to look. A little bell jingled above the door when Ethan pushed it open. A wooden counter ran along one wall, with an old brass bell sitting beside a computer that appeared to be the most modern thing in the area. There was a rack of postcards near the door, with an old vending machine beside it.
Halloween decorations had been added to the area. A plastic jack-o’-lantern sat on the counter and two paper bats had been taped to the wall. Someone had stretched fake cobwebs across the corner of the front window and that was it. I loved it! It was minimal, but still effective.
“Good evening,” a heavyset older man behind the counter said as we approached.
“Hi!” I gave him a friendly smile.
“Reservation?” the man asked.
“Frost. Natalie.”
He turned toward his computer. “You just made it?”
“Yeah, about ten minutes ago,” Ethan answered.
“Then you two are the reason my computer made a noise,” the old man smiled.
“Sorry,” I smirked.
“Don’t be,” the guy shook his head. “Means somebody’s paying me.”
“Yep. Frost. One night. King.” he typed.
“That’s us,” Ethan nodded.
The man reached beneath the counter and produced a small paper sleeve containing two key cards.
“Ray Vale,” he said. “I own the place. If you need anything, this is the office. I’ll be here until eleven. After that, number’s on the phone in your room.”
“Thanks,” Ethan said.
“You’re in twelve,” the owner told us. “Right side as you leave the office, almost to the end. You can park right out front.”
“Perfect,” I took the paper sleeve.
“Wi-Fi password’s on the card sleeve,” Ray continued. “There’s an ice machine around the corner from the office, and another by the rooms. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Ethan looked at me. I looked at Ray. Ray looked at me.
I couldn’t help myself. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” the owner nodded.
“Is this place really haunted?”
Ray’s expression didn’t change, but Ethan made a quiet sound that might have been a laugh.
“What?” I asked my boyfriend.
“You lasted almost forty seconds,” Ethan smiled, his green eyes shining with affection.
“I had to wait until he finished checking us in,” I blushed.
Ray looked from me to Ethan. “You two here because of the supposed ghost?”
“No,” Ethan said.
“Yes,” I said at exactly the same time.
The owner raised a bushy white eyebrow.
“We needed somewhere to stay,” Ethan explained. “She found out about the ghost afterward.”
“Before I booked it,” I spoke up.
“Seconds before.”
“Still counts,” I insisted.
Ray nodded slowly, as though he’d encountered our particular species of tourist before.
“So?” I asked. “Is it true?”
“That depends,” the owner said slowly.
“On what?” I leaned forward excitedly.
“Who you ask.”
I smiled. “That’s a suspicious answer.”
“My parents ran this place before me,” Ray said slowly. “I grew up here before I inherited it. I’ve been here a long time.”
“Wait,” I frowned before my blue eyes lit up. “That would mean your parents owned the place in 1974, right? When Evelyn died?”
“Wow, someone has done their research,” the owner nodded in approval. “I can confirm that Evelyn Ward was a real person, and she did pass away here. Some people think her spirit is still here.”
“The Laurel Lady,” I perked up. “Have you ever seen her?”
His eyes flicked briefly toward the rain-streaked window. “No.”
“Never?” I pouted in disappointment.
“Nope,” Ray shook his head.
“What about anything weird? Footsteps? Things moving? Doors opening by themselves?” I was almost begging for a good story.
“It’s an old motel,” the elderly owner shrugged. “Old buildings make noise.”
Ethan pointed toward Ray. “Thank you.”
I reluctantly followed Ethan toward the door. My hand was already on the handle when Ray spoke again.
“Mrs. Frost?”
I turned. I didn’t correct him by telling him we weren’t married. I just looked at the old owner, hoping he was about to tell me something about Evelyn. Instead, he nodded toward the window.
“Watch your step getting out,” Ray advised. “Water pools pretty bad along that side.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“Have a good night,” the older man inclined his head. “Sleep well.”
The Mountain Laurel wasn’t really one building so much as three long sections forming a U around the parking lot. The office occupied one end, while room stretched beneath a narrow covered walkway. Each door had its own light and its own parking space. Rainwater streamed from the edge of the roof as we drove past the first few rooms.
“Six,” I said, looking out the window.
“I can read.”
“Seven.”
“Still literate,” Ethan chuckled.
“Eight.”
“Wow, you’re doing so well!” he exclaimed.
“Shut up,” I snapped at him. “There!”
Ethan pulled into the space directly outside Room Twelve. The room looked completely ordinary, with a dark green door, brass numbers, and a narrow window with the curtains drawn. A faded metal chair sat beneath the window, protected from the worst of the rain by the overhang. There were no cars parked in either of the neighboring spaces, meaning those rooms were likely vacant.
As I was unbuckling, I noticed the next door.
14.
I stopped.
“What?” Ethan asked.
I leaned forward. Room Twelve was directly in front of us. To the left was Room Eleven. To the right was fourteen. Then fifteen. I looked farther down the row.
“There’s no thirteen!”
Ethan followed my gaze. “Nope. Hotels do that.”
“This is a motel,” I argued.
Ethan turned off the car. “People are superstitious. Thirteen is supposedly unlucky. Buildings skip the thirteenth floor, hotels skip Room Thirteen. Even cruise ships skip the thirteenth floor. Remember the cruise we went on last summer? That ship wasn’t haunted.”
“I know, and I’m still disappointed,” I admitted. “A haunted cruise would be fucking bad-ass.”
“Hey, you found the spookiest room in the hotel,” he said. “Sorry, the motel. Let’s head inside.”
The first thing Ethan did when we got inside Room Twelve was lock the door. The first thing I did was look for a ghost.
I wasn’t subtle about it.
While Ethan was wrestling our bags inside and kicking the door shut, I stood in the middle of the room and extended my arms. I heard Ethan grumbling as he maneuvered our bags, but all I did was twirl, my long braid whipping through the air as I spun several times.
“Evelyn?”
“Well, that only took eight seconds,” Ethan chuckled.
“I’m being welcoming!” I reasoned.
“To the dead woman?” he asked.
“She was here first,” I pointed out. “She died in this room.”
“Allegedly.”
I ignored him and started my inspection. Room Twelve was nicer than I’d expected. It wasn’t luxurious; no one was going to mistake the Mountain Laurel Motel for a resort. But it was clean, warm, and inviting. A king-size bed dominated most of the room, covered by a dark green comforter with four white pillows arranged against a large wooden headboard.
Each side of the bed had a nightstand, each with its own brass reading lamp. A set of drawers sat across from the bed with a flat-screen television mounted above it. On the other side of the room was a small round table with two chairs. The room also had a mini-fridge and a microwave. The carpet and bathroom seemed relatively new.
“Whoa, big shower,” I commented after peeking in the bathroom.
“Bathtub?” he asked. “We could take a nice bath together?”
“Nah, no bath,” I shook my head as I removed my coat. “No bloodstains or mysterious messages written across the mirror either.”
“Disappointed?”
“Give her time,” I asked.
“No, I was asking if you were disappointed we can’t take a bath?” he explained.
“Don’t worry,” I began as I looked out the window, “I haven’t had any dick in days. I’m craving it.”
“Excellent,” Ethan grinned, wrapping his arms around me from behind and kissing my cheek. “What are you looking at?”
“I’m looking at where Room Thirteen should be.”
“There is no Room Thirteen,” he said.
“You’re not even a little curious?”
“No, I understand why they skipped thirteen,” Ethan said as he rested his hands on my flat stomach. “Because people are superstitious.”
“Boring.”
“Fine, because Ray sacrificed Room Thirteen to an ancient Appalachian demon in exchange for immortality and reasonably priced insurance,” Ethan teased, his hands sliding beneath my shirt so he could caress my bare stomach.
“Better,” I nodded. “Although, I work in marketing for an insurance company; not even a soul is payment enough to make their prices reasonable.”
“Point,” he agreed, kissing my cheek again as his hands settled at my hips.
“You know,” I said, “if Evelyn does show up tonight, you’re going to owe me an apology for doubting me.”
“I don’t doubt that Evelyn Ward existed,” Ethan replied.
“You doubt that she’s still here.”
“Correct,” he nibbled on my earlobe, making me sigh happily.
“So when she appears-”
“If,” he corrected.
“When.”
“If.”
I rolled my eyes. “When she appears, I want a sincere apology. Written and notarized.”
His hands slid up the back of my shirt, unhooking my bra. “You’re demanding.”
“You know that when you started dating me,” I reminded him as I slid my arms out of the straps.
“I was young.”
“That was three years ago,” I giggled as I reached into the top of my shirt and pulled out my bra, freeing my girls.
“I’ve matured considerably since then,” Ethan reasoned as I tossed my bra onto the drawers beneath the television.
“Last week you bought a bag of gummy worms at the gas station and ate half of them for dinner,” I laughed lightly as I removed my shoes and socks.
“That was an appetizer.”
I laughed and he kissed me. Just enough to make me smile when he pulled away.
Then my stomach growled. Loudly.
Ethan looked down between us.
I closed my eyes. “Don’t.”
“That was incredibly romantic,” he struggled not to laugh. “I want you so badly right now.”
“Not another word,” I raised a finger at him threateningly.
“I think Evelyn heard that.”
I shoved him playfully. “Feed me!”
“There she is,” he chuckled. “What would you like?”
“Something that doesn’t require us to go outside for,” I said. “I am not putting my bra back on.”
“Works for me,” Ethan nodded as he removed his shoes.
I climbed into bed and sat cross-legged against the headboard. Ethan took off his jeans and pulled on a pair of lounge pants while I checked for what Laurel Creek had to offer. There wasn’t much. A convenience store, a fast-food restaurant, a Chinese place, and three pizza places.
“Pizza?” I offered.
“Works for me,” Ethan nodded. “Do they have wings?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “Oooh, and garlic knots.”
Ethan tossed me his wallet from his jeans. “Here. Put it on my card.”
“Thanks, baby!” I chirped before placing the order. “Forty minutes. I ordered some drinks, too.”
“Perfect.”
My sexy boyfriend climbed onto the bed and plopped down beside me. We’d been planning this trip for a long time. Nothing elaborate, just four days away. A few scenic drives, a couple of hikes, whatever little towns caught our attention. The civil engineer in Ethan pointed out every bridge and unique building, while I just wanted to distract myself from work.
I rested my head against his shoulder. “This is cozy.”
“With a C or a K?” he asked teasingly.
I groaned. “That was terrible.”
“You wouldn’t change me,” Ethan chuckled.
“Eh, I have a few thoughts,” I said.
He placed his hand beneath my chin and lifted my head. “Liar.”
I smiled as I took in his handsome face, his green eyes, his sandy-brown hair, that sexy stubble. “You might be right.”
Placing one hand at his waist, I pressed my lips against Ethan’s. He pulled me close, returning my kiss with a smoldering passion. We made out for several minutes, our bodies pressed together as our hands explored each other’s bodies. Soon we were grinding, our lust growing as I moaned into his mouth.
“Pizza,” he murmured.
“Hey, think about whatever you need to,” I giggled against his lips. “Whatever gets you nice and hard for me.”
“Half an hour,” Ethan reminded me.
“A dangerous amount of time,” I smiled. “Think you can behave yourself?”
Ethan’s hand cupped my heaving breast from outside my shirt. “No.”
“Good,” I whispered, grabbing his other hand and guiding it between my legs. “Make me cum.”
Both his hands went to my belt, unbuckling it before opening my jeans. He slid a hand into my underwear, his fingers seeking my wetness. I started sucking on his neck as he touched my slit. I gasped and tensed as he pushed his fingers inside me. I was soaking wet, my vaginal walls clamping down on his fingers.
“You’re so wet,” he growled as he pleasured me.
“It’s all for you, baby, all for you,” I moaned, my legs instinctively spreading. “My pussy’s always wet for you.”
Ethan lifted my shirt up over my boobs before lowering his head and taking a nipple in his mouth. I gasped his name as he sucked and fingered me. I had big tits and sensitive nipples; I could even orgasm just from nipple play occasionally. Add in Ethan rubbing my clit and I was his. His completely.
“Ah! Oh God, ah!” I gasped, my toes curling. “Keep going! Keep going, please!”
I reached for his cock, caressing him from outside his lounge pants. Fuck, I wanted to taste him, needed to feel him inside me. Then he started rubbing my clit, causing all rational thought to disappear as my brain short-circuited. My right leg shook as my back arched and I announced my orgasm so loudly that I was sure Evelyn heard me.
“Oh baby, I’m cumming!” I gasped. “I’m cumming!”
It took a few moments for me to regain control of my body. The instant I did, I leaned over and pulled his penis out of his pants. Then I got my mouth on him as fast as I possibly could. I was moaning loudly as I rapidly bobbed my head, sucking his dick with a furious intensity.
He pushed my jeans and panties down my legs, with me pulling my legs back to help. Then he took off his own shirt. I just kept right on sucking. My lips formed a tight seal around his tasty tool, my tongue molding to the curve of his cock. I did help him remove his own pants, leaving him naked.
“I want you on your knees,” he growled, grabbing my braid and pulling me off him.
“Yes, sir!” I gasped, drool running down my chin. “I’ll be a good girl.”
Ethan got out of bed, with me following him as I discarded my shirt so I was as naked as my boyfriend. I knew exactly what he wanted, so I undid my braid, letting my raven hair fall free as I got on my knees in front of him. He stood over me, holding his cock at the base as he slapped my face with the thick shaft.
“Fuck, I love your cock,” I cooed, holding my big tits together as I wiggled my body sexily. “Please, please let me suck it!”
“You like sucking dick?” he asked, pressing the head to my mouth.
“Mm, yes!” I moaned, giving the head a couple quick sucks before he pulled it away from me. “I wanna suck you dry, I wanna swallow your cum. Please fuck my face!”
Grabbing a fistful of my hair, Ethan shoved his cock straight down my throat. I gagged and drooled, my lips pressing against his base as his balls rested against my chin. With both of his hands on my head, he groaned as he felt my throat muscles caressing him. I swallowed several times, heightening the sensation.
“Gak! Gak! Hurk! Gak!” I coughed, enjoying choking on dick. “Glug! Glug! Gak! Glug!”
Ethan then began to roughly fuck my face, using my mouth as if it were a pussy. He pounded my upper hole relentlessly, making my pussy gush as I sucked and gurgled. My hair cascaded down my back, the tips tickling my skin as I somehow felt every sensation in my body all at once.
“You look so hot with my cock in your mouth,” Ethan growled as he used me for his pleasure. Just the way I liked it. “I’m gonna cum straight down your throat.”
I made a noise of wanting around his dick, my blue eyes looking up at him. It was a fast, sloppy blowjob, but I could tell he was ready to cum. I sucked hard on his pole as he drilled my face, his orgasm approaching. He started cumming as he was pulling back, warm semen flooding my mouth. Some went down my throat, but I held as much as I could in my mouth.
“Show me,” he ordered as he pulled out.
Tilting my head back, I opened my mouth and showed him his creamy load.
“Swallow,” Ethan instructed.
I tilted my head a second time, making a swallowing motion as if I were taking a shot. Only it was cum instead of vodka that went down my throat and into my stomach. Just like I knew what he liked, Ethan knew exactly what I liked. He knew what I’d do any depraved act to receive.
Ethan patted me on the head.
“Mm, am I a good girl?” I asked coyly, my hands on my knees.
“You’re a very good girl, Natalie,” he sighed happily.
Then the wonderful moment was ruined by a knock at the door.
I shot up and ran to find something to cover myself with, my boobs flying around wildly. Ethan pulled on his boxer and lounge pants as I unzipped a suitcase and extracted one of Ethan’s flannels. The shirt fell to my upper thighs, covering all the naughty bits. Still, I knew my hard nipples were denting the fabric, and it would be obvious we just had sexy fun times.
Hey, I was a hot twenty-seven year old marketing coordinator who believed in ghosts and had a great body. The delivery guy was going to be quite jealous of the hot piece of ass Ethan had in his motel room. Oh, that was a deliciously naughty thought! I couldn’t wait until later when we got to the best part.
Another wonderful moment was ruined when the delivery driver turned out to be a woman who was more interested in Ethan’s bare chest. Oh well, at least the pizza was delicious. Ethan and I sat in bed, watching a horror movie as we enjoyed pizza, chicken wings, and garlic knots. Yummy, yummy!
I was curled up beside my boyfriend on top of the comforter, the flannel now unbuttoned and occasionally offering a glimpse at the goods. Ethan had one arm around me and a soda in his other hand. On the television, a woman carrying a flashlight was slowly descending a staircase into a basement.
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