The Haunted House of Desire

As soon as I stepped inside the front door, this train of thought was interrupted. I suddenly felt an unquenchable thirst. A strong desire to have rough, primal sex right there in the hallway. It felt weird. Normally, I'd get horny by stages, building slowly. Now it went from cold to red hot in seconds. My cock wasn't even hard right now but I still I felt like doing unmentionable things right there on the floor.

What was going on? Why was I suddenly feeling like having sex when there was no one around to have it with? Had there been a blonde bombshell waiting for me, ass in the air and pussy moist and ready, I would have understood. Looking at my own dumb self in the hallway mirror wasn't exactly the same thing.

I mean, I had gotten myself a suit and a haircut recently, to look sharp for work. So yeah, I guess I had been improving my looks a bit lately. Still, though. There was no clear explanation why I should suddenly feel horny when I entered the house.

I took a cold shower to cool off. It seemed to work for a little while, even though it did leave me with a feeling of disappointment. Not that I really understood that either, but it really did feel like disappointment. What, was my body angry with me or something? Giving in to your desires, acting out on them - well, that's always more exciting, isn't it... So my hormone-filled brain had really wanted me to rub one out and now it was unhappy with me?

No, that's not what it felt like either. It was another one of those weird feelings. One of those I couldn't explain. It almost felt like it came from somewhere else and suddenly made me feel it too. Like something in me, as soon as I stepped through the doorway, said: "Hey, I'm in my new house now, where I'm going to be having lots of sex soon, so it's time to jerk off."

Screw this. I went to the living room and turned on the TV. Then I cracked open a beer and sat there like a total couch potato, munching on nachos. I wasn't going to do anything tonight. Just chill. I'd been at work, it had been a long day, I wasn't going to sit here and be frustrated at not having a date - I was just going to relax. A few hours later, I had forgotten all about being horny. Eventually, I headed off to bed.

The feeling returned once I was tucked in. I was naked. In bed. There had to be something sexual about that, right? Didn't I want to have an orgasm right now? As I had already decided that I was going to defy this desire, there was a growing feeling of frustration coming over me. I was young, I was single - I shouldn't have to go to sleep without sexual satisfaction. Again I toughed it out and told my hormonal brain to shut up. I refused to be a slave to my own libido. I was in charge here. Time to sleep, brain. Shut up.

That night, I had the strangest dream. Because it had to be a dream - there was no other possible explanation. The dream was that I heard noises in my sleep and slowly started to become more alert. The sounds were intermittent and made me wonder what they could be. They sounded like slurping noises - like somebody slurping and licking away at a Popsicle during summer. Then they were interrupted by hums and sighs, as if they were made by someone enjoying themselves tremendously.

There was a strong feeling of enjoyment washing over me. As if somebody had finally been rewarded with something they had long desired. At first, it was a bit confusing, because all I was doing was lie there, fast sleep. It took me a minute to realize that the feeling wasn't coming from me. It was something felt by somebody else.

I opened my eyes, drowsily, and through what felt like a cloudy curtain, I saw a beautiful woman in my bed. She lay between my legs, stroking and sucking my rock-hard cock with great enthusiasm. It felt amazing; her hands were touching and stroking me all over, her mouth licking, kissing and sucking away at my cock, filling the chamber with loud slurping noises. The sensation was incredible. Her tongue felt like it was alive, and wherever her lips touched me, it almost felt electric.

Her eyes looked up at me. She was beautiful. Around her otherwise pale, fair skin, she had a big mane of brown, wavy hair falling down her shoulders. Her full, wet lips kept stroking up and down my shaft as she caressed it with her mouth. Her lovely brown eyes kept staring at me, as if she was looking to gauge my reaction.

As I let out a moan of pleasure, I could see a smile on her lips before she kept going. There was a feeling of great desire coming over me - once again like it wasn't my own feeling but as if it was coming from somebody else. A feeling of wanting something. A feeling of greed. Need. A thirst that needed to be slaked. I knew I was dreaming, but it felt incredibly real.

Her head started bobbing up and down on my cock and I could feel her throat swallowing me up, clenching around my swollen shaft as she forced her head down. There were loud gagging noises every time she did this, but she made no signs of stopping - she just kept slamming her head down more and more forcefully, filling her throat with my meat. I heard loud moans fill the room and realized that they couldn't come from her, seeing as her mouth was otherwise engaged. It was my voice I heard, moaning and crying out in pleasure between heavy breaths.

I wanted to shout out to her:

"Yes! More like that! It's so good! Make me cum with your mouth!"

But, of course, I knew I couldn't speak. Because I was asleep. I realized how strange this was: I could see, feel and even hear... but I couldn't formulate thought into speech. At the same time, my mind was not at all disturbed by this; it seemed perfectly logical. Of course you can't converse with someone while you're sleeping, duh. But why could I moan, then? Did that make sense? Yes, of course. It felt like it made perfect sense. The rational part of my brain told me that everything was all right. This was only a dream, so anything that seemed weird was perfectly normal.

My mind was still in this flux of reasoning when I felt the orgasm coming. The girl was relentless, fucking me with her tight, slimy throat, bobbing her whole head up and down in what almost looked like someone headbanging at a rock concert. And it felt amazing. The slurping noises grew louder and louder, as did my moans of pleasure.

I started grunting. In a crude, almost primal manner, I started thrusting upwards. The orgasm shook violently through my lower body, causing my legs to shake and twitch. The woman gagged and swallowed greedily, forcing her head down to take me all the way down her throat. My head was spinning.

A minute later, the orgasm subsided and I felt my body relaxing. Finally, she withdrew her mouth from my cock and sat up, wiping drool off her beautiful face. Then she just sat there and looked at me with a satisfied smile. I looked back at her, then closed my eyes. When I opened them again, she was gone.

A feeling of gratitude and pleasure washed over me. I could hear an excited female voice giggle in the distance and it felt like the very walls in the room around me breathed a relaxed sigh. The frustration was gone. After being allowed to feel pleasure and to act on those carnal desires - all that was left was a feeling of being satisfied.

I closed my eyes. A moment later, it was morning.

Man, what a weird dream. And who was that girl? Had I met her before? Whenever I fantasized or had a dream about someone, it was usually someone I knew. I could remember a couple of wet dreams. One time, when I was still in college, I had a dream about a girl I had a crush on. When I woke, I found sticky goo all over the sheets and myself.

I couldn't recall the girl from last night, though. Maybe my brain just cooked something up. And when I checked the bed linen, I couldn't find any trace of bodily juices. I vividly remembered that in the dream, I had unloaded a huge amount of cum, having saved up and refused to relieve myself earlier... so there should be some big stains on the sheets. But no. There was nothing. Nothing at all.

"I guess she swallowed it all... what a greedy little slut..." I mumbled to myself, chuckling as I went to the bathroom to have a shower.

It was still early. It wasn't even 6 a.m. yet but I didn't feel like going back to sleep. I was kind of drowsy, but also felt energized - almost... playful. Like I had done something naughty and gotten away with it. I turned on the tap and stepped into the shower, thinking I'd take my time in there, letting the warm water wake me up slowly. I had plenty of time before I had to get to work, so there was no rush...

I thought about that girl again. That dream. Man, it had felt so real. She had been so willing, so eager. I wished I could find myself a girl like that - someone who just wanted to please me sexually all the time.

"Mm... suuuch a greeeedy little slut..." I mumbled as I kept thinking of her. "I'd love to have you sucking me dry every day..."

Then, all of a sudden, there she was. On her knees, below me, looking up, expectantly. Was I still dreaming? Hadn't I gotten out of bed? Wasn't I standing in the shower right now? I glanced around and saw the bathroom walls. I felt the water running down my back, making me feel warm and comfortable.

I looked down again and saw her beautiful face, still looking up at me. There was a beautiful woman in my house - in fact, in my shower. That part definitely felt like a dream. I didn't do anything about it either; it felt like one of those dreams where you're just a bystander, forced to watch events unfold without any way to influence them. I didn't feel angry or scared about the fact that there was a woman in here with me, I was just taking note of it. I was just standing there, not reacting at all.

I looked up towards the ceiling as I heard a gentle giggling noise echo through the room. Then I felt her hands stroking the back of my thighs. As I looked back down, my cock was in her mouth, hardening fast.

"Mmmm..." was the only noise I made.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling. It occurred to me that I had never received a blowjob in the shower before. I liked it. I liked it a lot.

Loud moans began to escape me as the pleasure levels rose. I looked down and saw the woman dive in between my legs, eager to satisfy her lover's lust. I supported myself against the wall as my legs began to tremble. I uttered something about being about to cum, but it only made her more eager to take me past the edge. Her mouth slurped and slurped on my cock and her tongue seemed to whirl around so fast it made my head spin. As I came, I groaned loudly and just blurted out:

"Aaah yes!! Yes! Yes..."

A wondrous feeling washed over me. An amazing feeling of being wanted. Of being allowed to have the exact thing most likely to slake that burning desire within. As my orgasm ended, I looked down to see the woman look up at me with a beautiful smile on her lips. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes... When I opened them again, she was gone. All that was left was a feeling of bliss filling the room.

It was only now that it finally dawned on me. What I had been feeling... all those emotions bubbling to the surface from all over the house... They were not my own. They were... hers.

I put on a robe and went out into the living room, still in kind of a daze. I sat down on the couch and tried to wrap my head around what was happening. What had been happening. This thing was real...? This wasn't just a dream or some figment of my imagination? I heard the clock ticking, birds outside singing... this definitely felt real. This wasn't still a dream. I had, in fact, been awake for quite some time now, since way before the sexual escapades began.

For the rest of the day, I was moving around on autopilot. I couldn't tell you anything that happened all day - what I had for lunch, any tasks I had been doing, what happened on the road... My mind was awhirl with all kinds of thoughts, I was hardly able to focus on anything else. I mean... fuck me, the stories were true? The house I was living in really was... haunted..? The woman I had encountered was a...?

The rational part of my brain started clutching at straws. Sitting safely in the office, away from the house, I was able to think that there had to be a rational explanation. Had to be. Somebody playing a prank on me. She had to be a real person. Except... a real person doesn't disappear into thin air. A figment of my imagination, then. Something in the air, or food or water, must have caused me to hallucinate.

My own brain started tearing apart its own rationale. There couldn't be something in the food; I'd bought it at the shop myself. There couldn't be anything in the water - partly because there had been long periods of time when I hadn't drunk any from the tap, but mostly because if there was something wrong with the water, it wouldn't affect just my house. The air, then? No. I'd had the windows open several times with fresh air coming in from outside, and the phenomena happened anyway.

My stomach started churning as I approached the house on my way back home. My throat was parched and I could barely breathe. Was I really about to go back in there? Back into an actual haunted house? It felt like a traumatic accident in slow motion; that this couldn't be happening, it couldn't be real.

As I turned the key in the lock, there was something in me that said I could still turn around and run. But I didn't. For some reason, I went forward instead. Still running on autopilot, I saw my hand reaching for the door handle.

There it was again. As soon as I opened the door, I felt it. A feeling that wasn't fully mine. A feeling that came out of nowhere and that I now had begun to realize was ... otherworldly. It wasn't aggressive, though. It wasn't even sexual, like it had been before. It was just a feeling of... apprehension.

I closed the door behind me.

"Hello?"

Silence. There was no sound, save for the ticking of the clock on the wall. I took off my jacket and hung it up, then took off my shoes. As I looked up, I suddenly saw her. The woman. The apparition.

She was dressed this time. For the life of me, I couldn't tell you exactly what she was wearing - it seemed to my brain that it could be whatever I thought it was - I just had the feeling that she was fully and respectably clothed. She didn't do anything, she was just standing there at the end of the hall, looking at me, hands folded.

"I..."

The words got stuck in my throat. The shape turned and walked away, moving into the living room. It felt like she wanted me to follow, but as I peeked around the corner, she was nowhere to be seen.

I walked hesitantly towards the living room, hardly daring to breathe. I looked around, but didn't see her. I turned to look behind me, almost expecting to see something terrible appear to attack me, but there was nothing. As I turned back, though, I saw her shape again, standing by the table next to the couch. As I blinked, she was gone again.

I found myself strangely drawn towards the place she had appeared. As I moved, she suddenly appeared in the corner of my eye, sitting on the couch at the opposite end. I felt her wanting something, but I couldn't make out exactly what it was. I was just.... a craving. A desire for... understanding.

As I sat down on the couch, I lost her again. I looked around and she was nowhere to be seen. There was just that feeling. Apprehension. Nervousness. But also... need. Something that had to happen for there to be any chance of a wish coming true. I knew this feeling. I'd had it myself many times. Like that time I had my first job interview. I was really nervous, not to mention worried about failing, but at the same time I knew that I had to go through with it if I was going to have a chance at getting that job I wanted.

I tried to say something, but couldn't. There was a lump in my throat and it felt completely dry. I tried coughing a bit but that didn't help - I was desperately thirsty. I picked up a glass of lemonade from the table and drank it in one swig. That helped. It was very refreshing.

"Thank you." I said without thinking and put the empty glass back on the table.

Then it dawned on me what had just happened. That glass hadn't been there ten seconds ago. And despite the distinct room temperature here, the drink had been perfectly chilled.

I put my head in my hands and tried to breathe.

"Fuuuuck... That's you, isn't it? Do you have to do that? Can't you just... gimme a minute to ... process this?"

At this point, I felt something other than tension. There was a sense of... joy. Of mischievousness. For a moment, I could have sworn I heard distant giggling echoing around the room. It felt like the tension was receding.

"Wait..." I mumbled.

Something occurred to me. It hadn't before, but now it suddenly seemed clear. Like when you solve a math puzzle; I honestly couldn't see how I hadn't figured this out until now.

"This is you... communicating? You can't speak but ... I can feel... what you feel?"

Elation.

That was it. There was an overwhelming feeling of joy spreading throughout the house, filling every corner. Joy at finally being understood. Joy at having found someone who wanted to understand. Someone who didn't run.

I suddenly noticed a book on the table. It was brown, leather-bound, fairly thick... I couldn't recall seeing a book like that before. I picked it up and noticed that it had a clasp keeping it shut. Opening it, I could see handwriting inside, made with care and attention. On the very first page, it said: "Property of Ruth Baker".

"That's... you? Ruth?"

It was.

I felt it. A strong feeling of recognition filled the space around me as soon as I said the name.

I turned the page to find a portrait. A photo in black and white. It was of a dark-haired woman, maybe in her late teens or early twenties, giving her best smile for the photographer. She was beautiful.

There were several more photos stuck to the first few pages. One was of a happy young woman posing with friends at a school or college. One was from a festival of some sort. One was from a beach. That last one made my jaw drop. She was wearing a bikini, showing her body features in all their glory.

She was shapely, with an amazing hourglass figure; medium-sized breasts, wide hips and a fairly slim waist... but not the type you see in today's skinny supermodels or fitness instructors. More wholesome than that. More natural. She actually reminded me of a 1950s movie star, like Grace Kelly or Ava Gardner.

"Wow, that's hot." I caught myself saying. "Sorry, I mean..."

Embarrassment. Delight.

That's what I felt in her. It also felt like it was the first time in a very long time anybody had complimented her on her appearance. I swore for a second I could see the portrait blushing. I looked again. No, it was normal. No change. I must have imagined it. Seriously, though. If I'd been dating a girl like that, I'd fuck her twenty times a day. Damn.

I flipped over to the next page and found some text. It was a bit difficult to decipher at first, seeing as it was good old fashioned handwriting and not the computer fonts I was used to. I focused and tried to get into it, knowing from experience that it would get easier once I learned this writer's personal style.

The introduction seemed to be pretty ordinary, just a summary about who the book belonged to, where they lived and so on. I flipped over to the next few pages. Each section started with a date. Then, on the line below, an account of what had happened that day or reflections and thoughts of the author. Woah, I thought. This wasn't a photo album. It was a diary. Without thinking, I practically threw the book back on the table.