Lust on Haunted Hill Ch. 2

When I nibbled around her nub, her thighs began to shudder and both her thigh and calf muscles seemed to lose control, her legs all but going into spasm. The final straw was when I flicked the vibrator switch to high and thrust it deep inside my love's steaming cavern. At the exact instant I did so, I took her clit firmly between my lips and sucked hard on it, nipping gently with my teeth. I thrust penis and vibrator in and out of both ends of my lady with carnal urgency as I sucked and even lightly chewed on her extremely sensitive button.

Every inch of Cheryl's body was moving. She bucked and squirmed and heaved as best she could with arms and legs tied. She was almost screaming around my organ as it finally let go and filled her mouth once more with it's salty-sweet load. As spurt after spurt of semen pulsed against the back of her throat, her own release came. The force of her orgasm was such that she bit my swollen member about midway down my shaft. But I hardly felt it as I was enjoying her gushing climax....as well as my own.

I pushed the vibrator all the way inside her and sucked her pussy like a madman as she came in what seemed like buckets. Her thigh muscles tightened so much I could actually see the individual muscles in both of those gorgeous legs. I held her buttocks firmly with both my hands as she came, letting the vibrator fend for itself inside her, and feasted on her juices even as she feasted on mine. I lapped and sucked as she came, and felt her doing the same. It was heaven....tasting her juices at one end, delivering mine at the other. Another scream passed from Cheryl's lips, despite her mouth still being fully occupied. I grunted as I continued to buck and thrust myself into her ravenous mouth. Despite all this, I couldn't help but smile at what happened next. While I lapped her succulent quim with single-minded intent and unsurpassed pleasure, the orgasmic contractions of Cheryl's vaginal muscles were so strong that she forcefully expelled the humming vibrator, and it shot a full foot out of her and rolled to a wet stop on the rapidly puddling blanket.

The storm outside raged again. Somewhere on the lower floor a shutter was banging, accompanied by the tinkle of breaking glass and old timbers groaning in the unrelenting wind. As before, the thunder and lightning seemed to mimic our screams of passion and the thunderous beating of our hearts. The creaking of old wood intensified with each orgasmic spurt of our straining sex organs. The tapping tree branch took on the steady beat of an enormous heart. The wind whistled through cracks, sounding like sighs and moans. The fire roared, bathing the entire room in heat. All of Bradford House was sighing, moaning with pleasure. It had been a long time since sexual release had occurred within these ancient walls...and the house seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

And above the fireplace, the Bradfords' usually twinkling eyes were shut, satisfied smiles again on their lips.

If anything, our orgasms lasted even longer than when I'd ridden Cheryl earlier. We bucked and heaved until we were sore and thoroughly exhausted. I firmly believe that had her orgasm been any more intense, Cheryl would've snapped either her bonds themselves or the old wood they were attached to. I couldn't help but feel that the Bradfords would not have approved of the latter.

I let my love calm down a bit before removing the blindfold. As utterly spent as she was, she seemed in no hurry to even think about it. When I had gotten the blindfold off, she looked up at me with those sexy eyes and had on her face the most satisfied smile I'd ever seen on her lush lips. I kissed those lips tenderly and felt good inside that I could please her so much, so completely. Looking into those eyes and kissing those lips, I almost forgot myself...for my love was still tied to the Bradfords' bed.

Again, Cheryl seemed too sated to worry about it, but I untied her anyway. Before laying next to her to enjoy her warmth and softness again, I noted the wet stains on the blanket. Our blanket was nearly soaked through with love fluids, more than I'd ever seen before. But, with my heart still pounding, I realized that the stains from before were gone...not even dried or discolored remnants, but completely gone, as if they'd never been there at all. And then, as I watched, the current sticky additions disappeared too, right before my eyes, as if being soaked up into the very atmosphere of Bradford House. At the time, I didn't tell Cheryl about this. I was sure it had to do with the warmth of both our bodies and the heat from the fire. Yes, that had to be it.

Once again, as we basked in the comfort of each other, enjoying our sexual afterglow, the storm outside lost its potency, calming to a simple pattering drizzle and distant rumbling. It was amazing how the storm had mimicked and paralleled our own internal sexual storms...reaching its crescendos as we reached climax, and then subsiding as we ourselves returned to normal. A most delightful coincidence, I think. Wonderful atmosphere, and a plus that would make this day even more memorable as we looked back on it in the future. It was as if even nature wanted us to enjoy our sexual interlude as much as possible and did its best to help in every way it could.

Sadly, we felt it was time to leave Bradford House. It had been a long, if miraculous, day. And as we lay on that old bed, on our mysteriously stain free blanket, we again touched each other and watched the ceiling cracks cavort in the firelight. We had touched more than bodies....we had merged souls. We were tired and sore, and knew that we'd be even more sore the next day. I looked at Cheryl and she at me. We sighed, smiled, kissed, caressed each other. We knew we would love each other forever and nothing on Earth could ever shake that love.

"I have to admit," Cheryl said finally, "this was a wonderful idea."

"Yeah," I agreed, "it sure did turn out fantastic. God, this was great, wasn't it?"

"I'll say. We've never made love that long before. I'm not saying you're usually a slouch, hon, but you were amazing today!"

"As were you, my wanton harlot. So, was I right about this place, or what?"

"Okay, okay, so you were right for once...no need to rub it in. Um....sweetie....are you as hungry as I am? I could eat a rhinoceros.....raw!"

"Hah!" I laughed, "didn't you eat enough today?"

"Oh, how clever," she smiled, "I mean something filling," she teased.

"Actually, I am starving," I returned, ignoring the barb, "what do you say we find a nice restaurant on the way home? Someplace nice and romantic, how's that?"

"Mmmm....that works fine for me. Let's get dressed quick and get going."

"Sure...if we can even find some of our clothing that got tossed around Bradford House." I gave Cheryl a sly look and added, "As you know, someone ruined my clothes and probably lost some of them, too."

"Oh, okay....I got carried away. I didn't hear you complaining at the time."

"Would it have done any good?"

She smiled and shook her head. "Nope....not in the least."

We laughed and embraced. We kissed affectionately. Slowly, we sat up and stretched again. As we sat at the edge of the bed, legs dangling, preparing our weary bodies to leave, taking with us only what we arrived with and some very fond memories, we felt another gust of air from the direction of the fireplace. This time, however, it was a chilly blast, and it caused every hair on my body to stand at full attention. It hit us with enough force to push us back, holding us both momentarily on the edge of the bed, leaning backward from the shock of it, and shivering. Looking first at each other, confused, we then looked toward the fireplace, which I at first suspected had gone out, allowing blustery thunderstorm air to rush down the chimney and flow briskly across the room at us. But the flames lapped happily upward, as bright and warm as ever. Once again on this memorable day, Cheryl and I were utterly befuddled.

Then the moaning began....moaning we'd heard before, and it wasn't coming from either of us. Directed by our ears toward the source of the sound, our eyes moved upward in unison. Inside their framed home, the Bradfords' eyes were glowing bright, rich and deep. Their images in the portrait became hazy, flowing like liquid, details blurring. And even though we never took our eyes off that painting, suddenly the Bradfords stood on the floor, just in front of the fire. They didn't glide down from the portrait in ghostly wisps or clouds...they were just all of a sudden standing there. Their forms were ghostly at first, but slowly coalesced....solidified as we watched.

Their turn of the century clothing looked like it had in the painting....crisp and new. But, that really didn't matter, as the Bradfords were wasting no time in removing them, piece by piece, every bit as quickly as Cheryl had removed mine from my tingling body several hours ago. And the entire time they disrobed, their glowing eyes were locked on Cheryl and I....leering. As I reached for Cheryl's hand, feeling its coldness, I realized I was right before when I was kidding with her. The Bradfords did indeed wish to join us in our passion.

The chill air aside, Cheryl and I were frozen in place, watching the Bradfords shed their clothing - as well as their inhibitions, if they even had any. It was only when we heard them speak that we were released from our trance and found the will to move.

"Please, do stay, won't you?" Mr.Bradford said, "you've given us such pleasure. Surely, you'll stay a bit longer?" His voice, extremely deep and masculine, sounded distant, but hung in the air like an echo.

"Yes, please do," sighed Mrs. Bradford, already almost completely disrobed, "after all, your passion has made it possible for us to do what we haven't done in decades." She looked quickly over to Mr.Bradford, smiling slyly, "You're welcome to join us, of course," she said to us, still looking at her husband and grinning.

Nearly completely naked, the Bradfords embraced and kissed with a passion that rivaled our own not too long ago. Their mouths fused and their hands openly explored each others bodies, each completing for the other the removal of their last bits of clothing. It was at this time that Cheryl and I decided to make our escape.

While our spectral hosts engaged in open physical exploration of each other, I leaped off the bed, squeezing Cheryl's hand and dragging her with me. We didn't bother gathering up the blanket, basket, cooler or anything we didn't absolutely need. All we bothered to scramble for was our clothing, tattered or not.

While I was slipping on my jeans (not bothering with shorts or socks), the flashlight rolled into my foot from wherever it had been hiding in the darkness. I hopped on one foot as I pulled on one sneaker and searched for the other. Cheryl was a blur of motion, finding her tube top and shorts easily, and fluidly slipping them onto her body without wasting a single movement...and in record time. She also didn't bother with undies.

Clothed enough not to get arrested, I scooped up the flashlight and we bolted for the doorway of the master bedroom. I briefly considered trying to put out the fire for fear that it might ignite the old house, but one speedy glance toward it showed me that the once blazing fire was now just so much smoking ash. The room darkened, and I flicked the flashlight's comforting switch, but it refused to cooperate. Several convincing smacks of the stubborn object on my palm assured it that I meant business and it blinked reluctantly to life.

Cheryl and I scurried and stumbled as far as the doorless threshold, at which point Cheryl inexplicably stopped in her tracks, nearly yanking my arm from its socket. I spun around, prepared to do battle, thinking the horny Bradfords had captured her and were already beginning to have their way with her. Instead, I saw Cheryl standing in the doorway, staring intently into the room.

"Um....dear," I said, rubbing a suddenly sore shoulder, "why are we stopping? Don't you remember those ghosties wanna make us their sex playmates?"

"Shhhh...," she hissed, "look at them. They're not even coming after us. They're so involved in each other that I don't even think they remember us anymore."

I followed her gaze to the naked spectral couple, and saw she was right. They were kissing and fondling each other with a sensual tenderness neither of us had seen the likes of in a long, long time. It reminded me of Cheryl and I on certain cold winter nights when we'd act almost exactly like that as a prelude to sex on our comfy sofa...the tenderness and warmth of mutual exploration. And then it hit me. It's true what they say....true love never does die. And clearly, the Bradfords loved each other deeply.

As we watched, the chill in the room disappeared, replaced by rich warmth as the fire once again roared to life in the fireplace, bathing the two naked lovers in flickering orange light. In that warm light, something slowly became vividly clear...Mr.Bradford's penis, probably not used in almost a century, was rising to the occasion. As we watched that proud member swell and stand tall, once again the storm returned, the low growl of distant thunder increasing quickly and proportionately to the height and vibrancy of Mr.Bradford's throbbing erection. When that ghostly rod had reached its full, impressive girth and length, lightning and thunder flashed and crashed around us once more.

Mr.Bradford slowly pushed his wife back to the bed, and they both glided gracefully down onto it. She lay on her back and raised her arms to hold him close in an otherworldly embrace. She also raised her legs and placed them on his shoulders. He climbed on the bed and reached for her breasts and fondled them gently. In the last moment before he entered her, he glanced over at our blanket and looked at the very spot where I'd watched the love stains that Cheryl and I had made on it disappear before my very eyes. He took one hand off his wife's pink nipple and reached over and rubbed the spot, almost gratefully. He then turned his head and looked back over his shoulder to the doorway...at Cheryl and I. He smiled and nodded at us, and though neither of us saw his lips move, we both heard a whispered, but very clear, "Thank you."

"Cheryl," I said, "I think we should give them their privacy."

She turned and looked up at me, a tear just beginning to form at the corner of one eye. "I guess you're right," she said, wiping the tear before it could flow down her cheek, "though I can't say those two are very much worried about privacy. They certainly don't look shy to me."

"You're right...but let's let them get reacquainted anyway. How about that dinner now?"

A loud boom shook the entire house and bright light sneaked through every crack and grimy window of the house......and we both knew that Mr.Bradford had penetrated his love and the two were locked in long overdue passion. We also knew that the raging storm would undoubtedly be hanging around Bradford House for a very long time.

Cheryl and I looked at each other. Somehow we both knew that it was our lovemaking that had brought our two ethereal hosts together again after so many decades. That made us feel good. We turned, still holding hands, and made our way down the hallway to the stairs. By the time we reached the stairs, we had our arms around each other's waist, and held each other close as we descended.

When I turned the knob on the old front door and started to open it, instead of a creak of rusted hinges the door seemed to sigh. And just before we stepped through it into the raging maelstrom, the entire house again moaned, a moan of sublime pleasure and supreme satisfaction. Its owners, now one with it, were home....and enjoying sexual pleasures again within its walls. Even the house was having an orgasm now.

Drenched by the time we reached the car, Cheryl and I sloshed our dripping selves onto the old Buick's seats. We sat for a minute or two, the storm continuing its tantrum around us, and tried to sort out the days events. I briefly rubbed my aching groin. Then, when the howling wind began sending dismembered tree limbs crashing into the hood and windshield of my car, I felt it was time to leave.

The sky was nearly black and I had to put the headlights on, even though it was only just nearing seven o'clock. As I backed the car up, I could see through the rear window that the door of old Bradford house was again closing itself.....against the push of the wind. I put the car into forward and we drove away from our haunted trysting place, a mixture of emotions rolling around inside both of us.

The pelting rain had put ruts and muddy holes in the dirt road and driving along the overgrown driveway to the gate was quite a bit slower than was our entrance. The huge, rusted gate was still open, hardly moving as we drove up to, and then through, it. Once we were beyond it, however, the gate swung shut, both halves coming together with a clanging finality. Somewhere in the back of our minds we both heard a soft sigh that spoke the words, "Come again....you're always welcome here." I know Cheryl heard it too, though we've never actually spoken of it, because at the exact instant I heard it I looked at her and she looked knowingly back at me.

Cheryl and I both felt wistful as we drove away. We looked back at the shrinking house as it was gobbled up by distance, I through my rearview mirror, and Cheryl through the back window. We were sad to leave. Everything, every emotion and action, had been so intense and magnified in that house....and it was no wonder considering it's former occupants and their intensely sensual ways. As Bradford House slipped out of sight completely, only the storm remained, lashing the area with unrelenting fury. We both laughed at the same time, probably with the same thought. The Bradfords had been celibate for decades and had lots of catching up to do....which meant this was going to be one hell of a storm. It was quite a while before we managed to leave that storm in the distance.

As I drove us first to a restaurant and then home, we sat mostly in silence, feeling each other more than speaking....and we held hands the entire way. We left Bradford House behind us, but the memories of that day are more vivid than any other memories either of us have of anything else in our lives, or have had since. Even memories of our most important occasions and events pale by comparison.

That day was almost a year ago. I've missed that old house immensely, and so has Cheryl. We've spoken about that day, and that house and its spectral owners, many times. We've even toyed with the idea of returning. We both long to experience that passion again. That's not to say that our sex life is bland by any means....but there was something about all of it that has stayed with us. It's almost as if we're a part of that house now, and it's a part of us. Bradford House actually tugs at us, trying to pull us back to it's erotic embrace.

Hmmm...come to think of it...I'm going to see if Cheryl would like to revisit the Bradfords. After all, it would be impolite to refuse an invitation, wouldn't it? Not to mention the fact that in our haste to leave the Bradfords to their own erotic devices, I seem to have left my goodie bag there with them. Even though every item in it could easily be replaced, they now have sentimental value, and I'd like to have each and every one of them back in my possession. And the final reason for going back is just this....I've seen the look in Cheryl's eyes when she talks about that house, and I know she'd go back in a heartbeat.

Yes, I think it's time to convince my lady - though she'll need very little convincing, I'm sure - that it's time we go back....maybe celebrate the anniversary of that unbelievable day. Yes, that's it then....we'll go back. And this time, who knows, maybe we'll become even more intimate with the attractive owners. I think I'll speak to Cheryl about it tonight. Wish us luck, though I'm sure we won't need it. I wonder if the Bradfords will be waiting for us.