House on the hill

Slowly I watched the darkness grow
The shadows lengthened as the light ebbed and flowed
I knew that tonight would bring a chill
As I sought the secret of the house on the hill

It was said that many had tried
And most had died
Seeking out the dark truth
But I would be the one, the only one
To know the truth with the rising of the sun

Slowly I crept up the outer walk
Looking at the windows shrouded in the dark
The whisper of a nightingale seemed to say
“ This is you final trip, unless you stay away”

I opened the door slowly it did creak
I listened for a sound or a voice to speak
Passing through the foyer, my courage waning
I mounted the stairs with each step proclaiming
My trespass into this place of fright
Here on this special All Hallows night

Then I heard it as clear as could be
A voice a calling out to me
Soft and sweet as a voice could be
It must be an angel I thought as I looked to see

I opened the door and there, a feast for the eyes
Long blond hair that hung to her thighs.
Skin soft and white and eyes of blue
I pray this be not a ghost as she whispered “I want you”

Into her arms I went
Drawn by her passionate scent
I found myself lost looking into her eyes
Not hearing the warning cries

Deeper and deeper did I slide
As she took me inside
Guiding me with a soft touch
I felt her hands engulf my nuts

Passion did rise in that house that night
Passion so powerful I cannot tell

With the coming of the day
I found my new cell
And the truth of the house on the hill
It is not ghastly like for who tolls the bell
Just horny old witches who cannot get their fill