House of Music

Originally posted to Sex-Kitten (written by me). This is part of the older archives which I found while poking around. I had forgotten about this story, until I read it again. 

The house had history, atmosphere and music. It also had a ghost.

“Every house has it’s own music, you just have to listen.”

“You’re full of it. Spouting that philosophical nonsense when we need to focus on getting out of here. What does any of that namby pamby crap matter now?”

“It matters.” Kate settled down cross-legged on the cellar floor. She ignored the cold cement, the mustiness and her husband’s temper. It wasn’t her fault the door had swung shut and stayed that way. Sure she had brought him here to explore with her but she wasn’t the one naive enough to expect every door that opened once would open again on the other side.

“Shut up, just shut up while I figure this out.” Steve seemed to always be grumpy.

The cellar was dimly lit, just the early morning light managing to filter in. But she could see with more than her eyes. The house had history, atmosphere and music.

It also had ghosts. Not the Halloween movie type ghosts. These were real ghosts. Quiet, watching and wondering who was disturbing the abandoned mansion. They were part of the music too, the history, the very wood, marble and bones of the house. It was an easy listening song but with undertones of something slightly gothic. Kate wrote gothic romances as a hobby, she understood gothic well. Or, as well as anyone could be expected to.

Steve was now pacing back and forth in front of the closed door. His steps were wearing a fresh path through the old dust. Cobwebs drifted from him, trailing in his wake. She didn’t look at his face, already knowing he would have his typical impatient, annoyed snarl at the world.

Silently, a shape, like fog, moved through one of the walls, coming from deeper inside the house. It was misty and see through but slowly swirled together to became a man, dressed in a fancy old style suit. He even wore a top hat and tails. He smiled at her. That was when she noticed the door built into the back of the cellar. Steve didn’t see her leave.

Behind the door there were no cobwebs, no light at all, just black space. The floor was solid and level. She knew the ghost-man was there, she didn’t feel alone, but she could see nothing and all was silence. It was peaceful. Around her the house made its noises, settling still even though it had been grounded for generations of people. From somewhere there was a scrambling, scratching from mice or other creatures who had found a way inside and created a home.

She felt warmth pressing against her and realized the ghost-man was holding her. How nice to be held, comforted and caressed. Relaxing in his arms even though some part of her mind was reminding her this was a very strange experience to be having.

The ghost man removed her denim jacket, her shirt and then her jeans. Her bra and panties were carefully taken from her as well. Naked, but not feeling exposed in the darkness she cuddled against him, feeling his nakedness against her too. She felt accepted, even treasured by a man she couldn’t see and didn’t know. Perhaps it was that feeling of being with a stranger, someone who knew nothing of your past and who you thought you should be. He kissed well. Warm lips pressing against her own, just enough moisture to keep from being abrasive against her softness. The hands stroking her bare back were strong, large and firm and yet very tender. Some woman had taught him how to touch a woman. Those soft caresses you almost didn’t feel and then strong massaging and kneading strokes which made her melt into him like a purring kitten.

He cupped and separated her bottom and she realized just how wet she had become. His fingers dipped into her pussy from behind and she moaned. He kissed her mouth again and she could feel his satisfied smile.

He pushed his knee between her thighs, opening her for more of his touches. Now he began exploring her pussy from front and back. Kate squirmed and pushed herself into his hard body, wanting more, needing him to know how much more she wanted. Her hands followed the lines of his back, down to his hips and then over his belly. There she lingered, enjoying the firm and yet sensitive skin. Enjoying his gasp of breath and knowing he was waiting for her touch to drop lower.

He didn’t have to wait long. His cock was already wet. She purred, feeling how excited he was, hearing it in his breathing and knowing she was making him squirm in return. Two wriggling bodies, still standing, playing and teasing, it couldn’t last forever. He pulled her down to the floor with him. Surprisingly the floor was not hard or cold. It was smooth and soft, welcoming. He opened her pussy lips and two fingers entered her. They went in easily as she was wetter than she had been in a very long time. When he pulled out she protested. He kissed her in apology, distracting her with his hands on her breasts. Cupping her soft breasts, teasing her straining nipples. Then lowering his head to suck a nipple deep into his warm mouth.

Kate pressed her pussy into him, grinding her hips, begging to be entered by his engorged cock. Her fingers found him again, stroking his shaft and teasing under and over the head of his cock. Making him suffer as much as she was from his touches. Her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, she guided his cock to her pussy and tried to slip him inside. But, he kept himself just a bit out of reach. She could feel the tip of his cock between the wet lips of her pussy, pushing lightly at the entrance.

“Please”, she moaned softly, desperately, “I need your cock inside me now”.

He kissed her again. Before her next shuddering breath she was full of cock, her pussy stretching to take him all inside. She opened her legs wider and lifted her hips higher, taking in more cock than she had ever thought she could. She bucked against him, forcing all of it inside and loving to be that full of cock. She thought she would orgasm right then but he didn’t let her. Instead he stopped and just looked down at her, pressed under him.

She squirmed and moaned, encouraging him to continue, begging him with her body language. That was when he spoke, for the first time.

“Will you come with me now, sweet lady? Will you stay here in my house and make music with me?” His voice was husky, deep and very masculine. Her body trembled as if he stroked her damp skin with the sound of his speaking.

“Yes!” She managed to moan. Not knowing or caring exactly what she was agreeing to.

He began pumping his hard, thick cock inside of her then. The sensation of being full and stroked from within was more than she could take quietly. Her hands gripped his shoulders while her moans, panting and gasps grew louder and her body ground itself into his. As she exploded with her own orgasm he pulsed once, twice and then a third time inside of her. Her pussy squeezed his cock so hard she expected he would complain. But he didn’t. Instead he cradled her body on his warm chest and wrapped her close in his arms. His cock remained inside her, an anchor between their two bodies.

Later, she had no idea how much later as time seemed to be something that only happened elsewhere, she woke up still snug and held on top of his body. A blanket covered them. They must have been in his bedroom all along.

“You’re mine now. I knew you would be mine as soon as you stepped into my home, you became part of its music.”, he whispered softly against her hair.

Kate thought of all the things she didn’t know about him, about her life before meeting him and none of it seemed to matter. As if she had become another being during their sex, belonging to him was all she desired. As he began making love to her again she paused in thought a moment and wondered if Steve ever got out of the cellar. But, she was soon distracted and forgot all about him.

A Poll in Memory of SpiritoftheNight

backwashpollI used to write for a site called BackWash. There was the general side, then came along other versions and offshoots: kids, pets, lit (for snobs) and adult. The adult spin off was the first to branch out from the main site. I wrote there (I wrote on original, adult and kids – at one point there were three of me).

Anyway, when I wrote for Adult BackWash my login was Spirit of the Night and I called my regular column, Bait and Switch. It was fun most of the time. I wish I still knew where a few of other others from Adult BW are now. I have only kept in touch with one of them.

Rather than continue dragging along the backstory, here is what I found today from the debris of the old site. This is a poll I put up. I still like it.

This image is not clickable – it is cut and pasted from the original (which used to be clickable). If you want to answer, leave it in the comments.

A Male Phone Sex Operator?

I’m not a guy so it’s not for me in that way. But, it was interesting to read. Not so keen on the idea of dating a male phone sex operator – if it came up. For one thing, how could you really trust that he wasn’t gay or would later decide he really wasn’t straight but thanks for your time and the childbirth. Anyway, the article was an interesting read. I would never have thought women would phone a sex service. I can’t imagine doing that and not feeling more alone and used afterwards.

What do you think about men performing/ selling phone sex?

The Good Men Project: Seven Things I Learned as a Male Phone Sex Operator