Encounter at the Haunted House

"We should go," Insisted Sarah, nervously looking up and down the road.

"Too much damage has been done to turn back now," I half-joked and step into space created by the fallen gate and the one still standing.

Helping Sarah over the gates, we struggled through the undergrowth to reach the house with only the light from our phones to guide us.

The house itself was terrifying. There was no front door, and with the windows blown out, the house was open to the elements, and the stench of rotting carpets and decaying furniture was overwhelming.

"Let's get out of here," Whispered my terrified companion.

"After we've looked around a bit."

We stepped over the detritus strewn around all of the ground floor rooms. Stumbling across a cellar, I was about to descend the stairs, curious as to what we might find.

"Don't go down there," Whispered Sarah, frantically pulling my arm to stop me.

The cellar had a damp, musty smell and was probably flooded with foul rainwater.

Continuing our reluctant exploration, we came to the rear of the house that led to a large courtyard that was relatively free of wild flora. In the moonlight, I could make out the dark silhouettes of several smaller buildings.

Upon investigating, one was a stables that looked as if it housed four horses and a carriage, long since dead and ruined with most of the roof stoved in. I could not determine the utility of the second building, but it had two rooms. The first one was stacked with empty old-school chemical bottles on shelves, while the other was full of rotting furniture and several open chests containing letters and other documents.

The passage of time and the force of nature had ruined most of the documents, but we were able to read several of them partially. The letters spoke about grief so terrible to endure that the writer, possibly the matriarch, could no longer "go on". Was the writer contemplating suicide and, if so, did the writer set fire to the house. Such thoughts were disturbing and depressing.

"Can we please go now?" Hissed Sarah.

"After we look around the upper floors of the house," I whispered, firmly wanting to complete my survey.

The carpetless staircase creaked and groaned as we slowly ascended to the first floor. Sarah was becoming witless with her nerves at breaking point. I admitted to being concerned and a little scared. At the top of the stairs, we could explore to the left or the right. I dragged Sarah to the right, stepping softly and deliberately on the moulding remains of a carpet, its dampness masking our footfalls.

We received the shock of our life when we entered the first room. I knelt to closely inspect the floor, which had no carpet and a thick film of dust punctuated by distinct footprints. Someone had been here or were currently visiting, but the shapes indicated that they did not belong to adults.

"I don't like this," Shuddered Sarah, who gripped my arm tight and did not let go.

The other room had similar sets of prints indented in the dust. I could not see evidence of alcohol bottles or graffiti, so I could not speculate about who made the tracks.

The fire had damaged the first floor rooms facing the street, so we did not enter them. On the second floor were four large rooms, with the two at the back of the house containing large yet empty built-in wardrobes. The windows in these rooms were intact and provided views of the courtyard and its buildings.

Straining through the glass, the moonlight bathed the courtyard in an intermittent pale blue as clouds flitted across the sky. Suddenly, a black shape walked casually across the courtyard to the stables. I froze, and suddenly, my heart raced in fear.

"What?" Shrieked Sarah, trembling.

"Thought I saw something," I whispered, "But, it was probably nothing."

"What was that?" Sarah asked, frozen by fear.

I turned the phone light off, knelt by the window and studied hard. The sound was faint at first, but I swore I heard a horse neigh which turned into a wail, vague and indistinct. Thinking logically about what we saw and heard, I concluded that the light breeze and the clouds were responsible.

Then we heard distinct voices, speaking in pitched English, both male and female. Viewing the courtyard from our elevated vantage point, four black figures emerged from the overgrown orchard at the back of the property and casually made their way to the house. Their laughing was overt, and the clink of bottles in a carrier indicated the reason they were here. Saturday night, underage drinking in a supposedly haunted house was the perfect cover.

"I want to go," Pleaded Sarah.

"We can't now; otherwise, we'll be sprung," I reassured her, "I doubt they'll hang around for a long time."

"But I need to pee."

"Go in the corner," I chuckled.

"I can't do that, can I?"

"It's either that or pee your panties," I said, "But whatever you're going to do, do it now?"

The teenage voices became louder as they ascended the stairs to the first floor and understandable as the group came to our level.

"Come here," I hissed to Sarah.

I opened the door to the wardrobe, bundled her in and softly closed the door behind me just as the gang of teenagers entered the room.

Sarah and I held our collective breath, but they did not open the wardrobe. Why would they? They had no reason to suspect our presence.

They did, however, settle down and crack some drinks, and we let out a partial sigh of relief. Through the crack in the doors, it was clear that the gang brought torches that lit up the room.

Given the proximity, we could hear the conversation pretty well, and it soon came to the topic of sex. The party discussed who was the stud and who was the slut which caused Sarah and me to stifle our laughter.

As the discussion continued, I noticed a change in Sarah's demeanour. No longer was she terrified, but she was giving off pheromones at a phenomenal rate. In the cramped space, her skin was emitting heat, her breathing shallow, and she was squirming. This, of course, elicited a rise in my pants.

What was she going to do?

The wait was brief.

"Kiss me," Sarah whispered cocking her head back to mine.

Our lips locked in a sensual kiss with our tongues gently teasing each other.

"I'm so fucking horny," She whispered.

"Our options are limited."

"I know; that's why my panties are soaked," She silently giggled.

"Thought you wanted to pee?"

"I need to pee and fuck," She said, "In that order."

"We can't do either here," I said.

"You said I could pee my panties!" Sarah was in tears holding in the laughter.

"Not in here!"

"Why not?" She asked.

"Can I feel?" I asked, taking a considerable liberty.

"Be my guest," Sarah whispered.

With that, she undid her jeans and eased them down slightly. She spread her legs, bent her knees and leaned against the back of the wardrobe. I leant over in the cramped space and placed a hand just below her pussy while Sarah placed a hand against her clit. Sudden terror gripped me as I thought Sarah would sing out if she climaxed.

"This is harder than I thought," She giggled.

There was laughter from the group and talking over each other and shitty music emanating from a phone. At least this noise would provide a partial sound mask.

Sarah gently massaged her clit, and shortly, I felt several drops of piss which gained some strength.

"Shit!" She exclaimed.

"What?" I hissed.

"Feels so good," She said, clasping her other hand across her mouth, "I'll have to control the flow; otherwise, I'll make too much noise.

"Do what you need," I said, licking my pissy fingers, "It feels great!"

"Did you just drink my pee?" Giggled Sarah.

"Yeah, tastes nice."

"Didn't know you were this kinky," Sarah said.

"You never asked," I snickered.

Sarah released controlled bursts across my hand that soaked her panties, her jeans and the wooden floor for the next minute or so.

"It feels fantastic!" Sarah whispered.

"You going to come?"

"Fucking oath, I'm going to come!"

"Keep it quiet!"

"That's why it so fucking good," Sarah chuckled, "The need for restraint."

Suddenly, she took in a sharp intake of breath, and her body shivered. I tensed up, readying myself for the inevitable discovery, but Sarah kept it together and thundered to a climax. As she did so, I drank a small pool of piss from the palm of my hand.

"Oh my god," Whispered Sarah in the throes of ecstasy, "That was amazing!"

"Yeah, it looked good," I murmured.

"Feel how wet I am."

Sarah grabbed my hand and directed it to her swampy cunt. I glided two fingers the labia majora, and indeed it was soaking wet. Both piss and pussy had a fantastic taste.

Breathing heavily, Sarah pulled up her wet panties and jeans before demanding that I release my cock.

"But I don't need to piss," I hissed.

"That's okay; I want to play with it."

I unbuttoned my jeans and eased out my straining pole.

"Wow, nice," Said Sarah, taking my meat in her hand and gently massaging the shaft.

We were undoubtedly inventive sexually, having been inadvertently trapped in the wardrobe.

"Do you smell that?" Asked one of the group suddenly.

"Yeah, there's a funny smell in this room," Confirmed another.

"Yuck, let's go to the other room."

We froze. Sarah released her grip, and I hastily secured my cock. The other room provided cover from the landing, allowing us the opportunity to surreptitiously escape undetected.

"Now's our chance," I whispered.

The moment we heard the music startup, we softly opened the wardrobe and slowly walked to the bedroom door. Peaking out, we could see the glow of torches and listened to the animated discussion resume. We crept along the landing and made our way down the stairs. The first flight of stairs made noise, but the gang could not hear it by this point.

The sweetness of the cool night air wafted across our faces as we tumbled out of the house and made our way back to the road through the busted gates. We laughed all the way to Sarah's house about the absurdity of the situation.

****

Sarah took a shower when we arrived home, and she told me to open a bottle of wine.

"That's better," She said, joining me on the couch wrapped in a white bathrobe.

After handing Sarah her glass of wine, we toasted to a narrow escape from the 'haunted' house.

"I don't know what it was," She began after nearly downing the entire glass, "The fear of the house, the shame of getting caught, that ridiculous teenage discussion on sex, the need to pee or the hot man trapped in the closet with me but whatever it was that orgasm was one of the strongest I've ever experienced!"

"That's some admission."

"I know we ran amok back in the day," She continued animatedly, "But that back there was next level shit."

"Indeed, I've never been trapped in a wardrobe at a haunted house with a woman whose escape plan consisted of pissing her panties," I laughed.

"I'm the planning expert, remember?"

"Touche!" And we toasted again to the imaginative and novel escape plan.

"But the hottest part was holding your beautiful cock," Sarah gushed, becoming emboldened by the wine.

"You have a delicate touch," I replied, growing hard with anticipation.

"If you like my hand," She said, placing a hand on my leg, "You'll love my mouth."

"Is that right?"

"I want to do to you tonight what should have been last night."

"So, you remembered?"

"Of course I fucking did," Sarah snorted, "The mind was willing, but the body failed."

"I don't think I could've gotten it up or stayed hard," I said genuinely, "We right royally fucked ourselves proper last night!"

"Like old times," Breathed Sarah, inching closer with her hand and body, "But now, we can fuck each other."

I briefly thought about Jamie but promptly forgot about him when Sarah ordered me to free my rock hard cock from my pants. I undid my belt, unzipped my jeans and pulled them down.

"That's a beautiful cock," Moaned Sarah, as she slid from the couch and approached me between my legs, "A fantasy come true."

Sarah took my twitching pole in hand and licked the underside from base to tip.

"Mm, delicious," She cooed, "Need to get this super wet."

Then she consumed my meat in her mouth. Deep-throating wasn't a natural talent of Sarah's, but each time she tried, several millimetres at a time.

"The deeper I go, the more saliva I can bring up to lube your cock."

"Feels great, keep going," I encouraged, enjoying Sarah working my shaft.

"Oh, grab my head," Sarah slurped, "Force me down further, make me choke."

As ordered, I placed a hand at the back of her head and applied pressure forcing extra meat down her already overcrowded throat.

"Fuck, yes!" I groaned.

"Yeah, do it more," Squealed Sarah as she coughed up a copious amount of saliva.

For the next several minutes, my drinking buddy from Perth slurped away, working my cock with a combination of her throat and her hand. It was a sight to behold when she brought her head up to smile at me. There was an unbroken tendril of spit on my cock and her lips.

"Yeah, good boy," She said, "Shove it down my throat."

For my part, I was enjoying Sarah's oral ability and emitting groans and sighs depending on her action.

"You like that?" She would constantly ask rhetorically, but it was clear that Sarah was enjoying her work.

Each time Sarah choked on my cock, her cheeks flushed a deeper crimson. She seemed to revel that there was a hand on her head gently forcing more meat down her throat than she could handle. Sarah was a long way from the base of my shaft at each gag, and there was no way she was getting there, but trying is half the fun.

"Now that I've got you all nice and ready," Breathed Sarah, "Are you ready to return the favour?"

"You bet!" I replied, eager to attach Sarah's pie.

Sarah stood up and, like a stripper, did a quick twerk to discard her bathrobe. Following the grand reveal, Sarah's body was more impressive than I imagined. Her breasts had some sag from age but were perky with big nipples just itching to be nuzzled. There was not a scrap of hair on her body, and best of all, Sarah's canvas was unsullied by tattoos. She was indeed the Venus Di Milo, the Aphrodite of the modern age but with a naff haircut.

Sarah, unconventionally, knelt on the couch in the doggy position and offered me her holes for my oral attention.

"Yeah, just like that!" She moaned when my tongue and mouth made contact with her hairless and juicy pussy.

While I focussed, primarily, on her pussy, Sarah's arsehole was nudging my nose and was a natural target for my tongue. I doubted my self-control would prevent me from attacking her chocolate starfish.

My clit and pussy action soon brought Sarah to orgasm. I lapped up her cream and expected her to change positions, but she remained bent over the couch. Fuck it, I said to myself, all restraint gone, and I plunged my tongue deep into Sarah's shitter.

"That's it, yeah," She growled, fully expecting me to go there, "Let me spread my cheeks for you."

To be fair, Sarah's dirty hole tasted way better than her pussy, and the animal in me took control. I stabbed my tongue into her dirty ring, encouraged by Sarah's filthy missives, and before long, it was opening up.

"Yeah, get it deep in there," Panted a frantic Sarah before reaching around and grabbing the back of my head, "Get it deep in there."

While tonguing her spongey O-ring, I stuck a thumb deep inside Sarah's swampy cunt.

"Oh yeah, you've got me wanting your cock now," She growled, "Good job."

Without asking, I pulled my face away from Sarah bung and inserted a finger. Her arsehole willingly accepted it without any resistance, and Sarah's reaction was one of pleasure. The stars were lining up for an anal session, but, as it turned out, an unusual one.

"Oh yeah, lick that arse," Sarah writhed as I resumed tongue bathing her pucker.

"Your arsehole tastes like honey, baby," I moaned.

"You're making me come," She shrieked under the pressure of rimming and thumbing of her pussy.

"Do it!" I said as I redoubled my effort.

Sarah came hard.

After she floated gently back to earth, I shuffled to the couch and positioned the tip of my slick cock at her leaking pussy, but a hand pressed again my stomach preventing entry.

"You don't want me to fuck your pussy?"

"No, baby," She said mischievously, "My pussy's for Jamie, but my peach is for everyone else."

Wow, I could not believe my luck. I knew Sarah had an appetite and a reputation, but 'straight to anal' was a sexy surprise. Her rationale for withholding her pussy, as some justification for cheating, was dubious at best, but who was I to question with an arsehole gifted to me?

"I had no idea you were a committed butt bunny," I laughed.

"And I didn't know you like the taste of pee," Sarah retorted.

"We could have had a lot of fun in Perth," I said, stroking my cock, "Had we got together."

"Can't change the past," Sarah chuckled, reaching for her robe and retrieving a small bottle of lubrication, "But we can enjoy the present."

I sat back on the couch and spread my legs. Sarah squirted a dollop of jelly onto her hand and proceeded to gel up my quivering shaft.

"Got to get you slick before you fuck my arse."

"I'm going to work it hard."

Sarah squirted a second smaller dollop of gel onto her hand, reached around and worked it onto her O-ring before standing up, straddling my crotch and easing my prick effortlessly into the backdoor.

"Your cock just slid right in."

The heat and restrictiveness of Sarah's arsehole were tremendous but also exciting. Most women that passed through my life made me work for anal sex but not this beauty.

"I love your big, hard cock in my tight little arse," Moaned Sarah as she effortlessly bounced up and down without the perfunctory moments of waiting for her arsehole to get used to being invaded by a foreign body.

"Feels so good," I confirmed in between passionate kisses.

Sarah rode me hard, swearing profusely and uttering trash talk such as, "You like my arse wrapped around my cock?"

My cock was undoubtedly hermetically sealed by Sarah's elastic O-ring, but I was disappointed that her pussy was off-limits.

"Oh yeah, I knew my arse would love your cock."

Sarah alternated the speed at which she rode me, and she played with her breasts and offered me a nipple, or two, to suck on. Her pussy was roasting my groin and leaking profusely. I reached underneath to stimulate her clit, but Sarah pulled my hand away.

"Just pound my arse, baby!" Sarah snarled, "I can take it."

I was not doing anything; Sarah was the one expending energy, her dirty hole was riding my greasy cock to my pleasure.

"Please," begged Sarah, "Spread my cheeks, open me up."

I placed both hands on her bubble butt and pulled her apart. The response was immediate, loud and climactic. Sarah orgasmed. Her body shook, and she ground her arse down into the base of my cock, yelling obscenities.

"You okay?" I asked when she calmed down.

"I fucking love anal orgasms," She replied, climbing off me, "They're the best."

"It looked good."

"That's the first one in a long time," Sarah said, kissing me deeply, "Now, I want you to take charge and use my arse for your pleasure."

Sarah bent over the couch like she had when I ate her holes. While not gaping per se, her arsehole was very relaxed, and I had no issue reinserting my greasy cock.

"Fuck my slutty hole," She yelled, "Hard!"

Music to my ears. I was keen to orgasm now that Sarah had her pleasure, and what better way to end the night than to fill her crap factory with the contents of my ball sack?

"That's it, get up in that dirty arse!"

Sarah's rosette was most relaxed now but retained a certain tightness that created the friction necessary to build my orgasm as I thrust hard.