House by The Creek
I breathed a sigh of relief when the mover truck drove off the engine after an hour of unloading my essentials. I closed the dusty blinds and turned around to give a quick once-over at the stacked boxes in the middle of the living room, feeling eager to unpack, hoping that familiar items could lighten the mood of the absence of its homey atmosphere.
Because of hiccups with the mover on the lane, my belongings took a longer time to arrive. I was able to scrub the entire house in 4 days and all I needed was repairs and maintenance on some major issues in the house.
I stayed at the local hotel in town and spent my daytime cleaning the run-down house. My king-sized bed and mattress from California was the only piece of furniture that I brought, which stood proudly on end in the master bedroom and I was pleased to spend my first night here later even though the house was still a safety risk.
It was reasonably priced and appeared to be in a good condition on a house-for-sale website. After my mother decided to marry an addict and became a drunkard, I've started saving money for the past two years to get away from her. And when I heard the news about the sudden death of my father five months ago, it devastated me. He was a devoted man despite him marrying another woman, he would always involve me in every fraction of his life.
His wife, Sarah, was the kindest woman I have ever met and I was keen to call her my stepmother. She made him happy and I watched my father grow into this remarkable man succeeding in his thriving business with a supportive wife standing by his side. They were beyond perfect.
He left a huge chunk of money for me in his will and I would be eternally gratified for that. Sarah was an understanding woman, she never felt envious or bitter towards me, instead, she encouraged me to start living the life I deserve and be happy. So I got away from my mother and relocated to this peaceful town, got a new job in marketing to begin a new chapter in my life, away from my non-existent family despite my friends' disapproval.
The house has two bedrooms, one bathroom and a small living room with an attached kitchen. The layout was ideal for a single woman like me who wished to spend the rest of her life alone. Images, it seems, were quite deceiving, and the house condition appeared to be worse in real life.
It has been vacant for a decade. Mould and mildew filled the walls, tree foliage smashed into the window, the wooden floor appeared to be broken in some sections, and the ceiling was shattered due to water runoff. The area was covered in trees and a bit secluded from people and the town.
I sat on the new, plastic wrapped sofa with a glass of water in hand, after a long day of extensive cleaning, the water ran down my dry throat felt refreshing. I was wearing my white tank top and black yoga pants, the hot atmosphere caused me to sweat more with a tingling sensation between my legs.
"Damn it...," I cursed softly.
I couldn't comprehend why I was aroused almost every day. Yes, I confessed that I am sexually frustrated to the deepest level but why do I need to get off up to 4 times a day, I wasn't sure if that was normal.
I stripped down to my underwear and laid down on the sofa, started rubbing my clit and moaning in pleasure. I embraced masturbating while naked, my glistening C-cup tits and separate thighs looked amazing from my point of view.
The house was still at risk of exposure due to broken locks on shattered windows and doors, and anyone could barge in any moment but I couldn't help myself. My surrounding was awfully quiet, other than the chirping birds outside, all I could hear was the juices between my legs and my moans of pleasure. My palm hit my clit and my pubic area hard as I slid my fingers inside my pussy and began frantically fingering myself.
"Yes, yes, yes..."
As the sensation inside my belly began to build, I clamped my thighs together and let out a squeaking noise as orgasm struck my whole body. My gaze was fixed on the ceiling, while the tingling sensation in my pussy lingered. That was satisfying.
I wiped my wet fingers on my stomach once I had my breathing under control, closing my eyes and sighed contently. I bent to the side and used my arm as a cushion, then felt an unmistakable soft caress on my thigh, which jolted me awake.
I straightened up and looked around the room, perplexed, but saw no one. I put my hand on my thigh, the sensation was almost identical except my palm was warm. My mind was most likely playing tricks on me so I shrugged it off.
•••
I scanned the beverage section, making sure that everything that I needed was in the basket before moving on to the snack aisle. I grabbed three bags of Jalapeno Cheetos and a bunch of Hershey's White Chocolate and tossed them in the basket. I would always prefer white chocolates over the regular ones, and my friends back home would laugh at me and find it unusual.
"Hello, you don't seem to be familiar," the cashier said warmly as she scanned my items.
"Hello there! I'm new here, I just relocated from California," I grinned. "Ana Taylor," I said as I extended my hand to shake hers.
"Rita Fannings. Wow, you've travelled quite a distance, what brings you here?" she asked as she stuffed my last item into the shopping bag.
"Oh, just city life doesn't work for me," I said, waving my hand, "but it's very peaceful here, that's what draws me in."
"Of course dear, I hope you have a pleasant stay here," Rita said warmly. "Do you have a place to stay?"
"I bought the house by the creek in Maple Hills, and I'm currently renovating it."
"I know that place," she said, her brows furrowed. "It's nice to see someone might relive it again, I'm certain the house will look just as lovely as it did before."
Rita's face was filled with concern and uncertainty. Whenever I told people where I live, they looked at me like I had a second head or was insane. Owners attempted to live there, but they didn't last long, perhaps two weeks at most, due to some serious eerie encounters, some believed the house was cursed.
"I'll give it my all, it's a lot of effort, but hopefully it'll feel like home to me next month... I'll see you around Rita."
We've said our goodbyes, then I went to the hardware store to get some paint.
It has been two weeks since I stayed in the house and today was surprisingly productive; with the aid of reluctant hired workers throughout the weeks, the ceiling, floor and windows were repaired. I had hired a plumber and an electrician contractor to fix some major issue and make instalments around the house. The locks on all of the windows and doors were installed properly. The only thing missing from the rooms, aside from the unpainted walls, were pieces of furniture and decorations.
Now and then, I could sense it. A light touch and a gentle caress. On my sides, lower back, arms and even my face. It was more prominent around my private when in times of needs. It was startling and perplexing to me every time but it never made me feel threatened.
My subconscious kept telling me the ghostly presence in the house was true, amidst the talk of the town, a spirit perhaps, but I shrugged it off every time because it didn't show any real signs of danger or threats in the house as some folks described. At one point, I mildly twisted my ankle after falling off a ladder, and I felt a sudden caress on my impacted skin which soothed me. I knew the encounter was kind with no malice intended.
