This Old House 2

As always, thanks to all those who vote, comment (I love those comments), and send emails with encouragements and critiques. Keep them coming, good or bad, I love hearing from you!

This is my first foray into the world of ghost stories/horror and I rather liked the way it came out. If the response is encouraging, then I will continue with Part 2 and Part 3.

As always, all characters engaging in sexual activities are over the age of 18.

Wishing you multiple orgasms,

Coventina

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My new house is old. It's 147 years old to be exact. Built in the Victorian era and neglected for who knows how long, it looks like it's been through a prizefight. Shutters hang askew like blackened eyes and peeling paint reminds me of bruises. My house is old and a little worse for the wear, but it's mine and I'm moving in today regardless of its cosmetic issues.

The inspector reported a solid foundation and walls, no dry rot or termites, and thankfully, no rats or mice. The plumbing would need updating, but it worked; the electricity, however, was practically non-existent. The last resident preferred the soft glow of gaslight over the harsh glare of a 100-watt bulb and had never updated the wiring. It was going to cost a mint, but I had just sold my very successful software company and was flush with money. San Francisco and the modern world had been very good to me. But for now, I was stepping back in time a bit and living by the mild glow of gas lamps seemed like a new adventure.

The man from the gas company thoroughly checked the lines, declared them secure and lit the boiler for me. I happily watched him work, taking in his rugged good looks, muscular arms, and rather a tight-fitting uniform. The man had a great ass, what can I say? I also noticed the gold band on his left hand and resigned myself to just looking. In any case, he eventually declared that I had a working stove, lights, and radiant heat, but if I wanted hot water I'd have to wait at least a day.

"Bummer," I said, "I was really looking forward to a hot bath after all the moving and unpacking today."

"Now that is a shame, Ms. Langdon." His eyes traveled down my body and back up again until his intense green eyes met mine. "A real shame." His grin unnerved me a little. All that time alone with me in the house, in the dark creepy basement, he was a complete professional. Now, outside on the porch, he decides to be lecherous? Weird. Maybe he was just responding to an unspoken vibe of attraction from me. Who knows?

I looked at him sharply and he shook his head slightly, frowning. He stared at me a minute as though he had forgotten what he was saying, then abruptly held his clipboard out to me, "Sign at the bottom, please."

It was as though he changed right before my eyes; changed back into the professional that he was earlier, in the house. I signed Sharona B. Langdon, where indicated before handing the clipboard back to him, our eyes meeting again. His eyes were brown. I could have sworn his eyes were green a minute ago.

He said goodnight and walked over to his van. Opening the door to climb in, he hesitated and turned back to me to say, "You should check the water when you go back in, it may be hot enough for a bath." He grinned a smarmy grin at me and winked. I must be crazy because I could swear his eyes flashed green again for a second.

I stood there, my mouth gaping open, and watched the van swerve slightly as it pulled away. It righted itself as it traveled down the long driveway and out onto the road. I shook my head and muttered, "Girl, you are losing it." under my breath as I went back inside the house. My house.

The sun was sinking low and bathed the living room in a soft orange glow. Boxes and furniture cast long, dark shadows that reached out to me as I stood just inside the door. I stayed there a moment, drinking in the ambiance; the silence. No more upstairs neighbors walking above my head, their footsteps booming like a parade of elephants. No more listening to them fight, or make up, for that matter. My best friend, Vic, always said that they were either fighting or fucking and that there was no in between for them. I sighed and, I swear, the house sighed right along with me.

I walked around the house testing the chandeliers and wall sconces to make sure they all worked before the sun had completely set. To my great relief, all of them did. I had candles and had a few flashlights handy, but a steady stream of light would be more than welcome as the shadows lengthened. I stood at the end of the upstairs hall and watched through the large arched window as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.

I wandered into the kitchen and after a bit of searching I found the box containing my tea kettle and took it to the sink. Turning the tap for cold water caused the pipes to moan and rattle. I had been warned that this might happen, due to air in the pipes, but it scared the shit out of me anyway. I shut the tap off and moved to the stove. Somewhere upstairs there was an answering moan and rattle as though a tap had been opened somewhere else. I shrugged off the thought as I rummaged for a teacup and some chamomile tea. Finding that, I unpacked what I could while I waited for the water to heat up. I had decided early that the kitchen, bedroom, and bath had to be the first serviceable rooms in the house.

I was so engrossed in my task that the feeling of being watched took me by surprise. I could feel a prickly sensation between my shoulder blades and my heart began to beat just a little harder. As I turned around the tea kettle whistled startling me and I looked toward it instead of through the doorway to the living room where I felt someone might be. As I moved toward the kettle to shut if off, however, I could sense something at the corner of my vision. The vague outline of a man was impressed upon my consciousness. But when swung my head around to look, nothing was there.

I turned the burner off and stood silently at the stove barely daring to breathe. I heard nothing, not a sound. I poured my tea and berated myself for being so jumpy as I waited for it to steep. I wished again that I could soak in a long hot bath, but figured I could always wash up a bit and take a bath tomorrow. Tonight, I could find out if gaslight was bright enough to read by.

Tea in hand, I climbed the beautiful curved staircase and went down the dim hallway to the bedroom. I made the bed up and unpacked some clothes while searching for something to sleep in. That found, I made my way to the bathroom stopping at the large sconce in the hallway to turn the knob and increase the light a bit. Gaslight would definitely take some getting used to, but the amber glow it emitted was ethereal and rather romantic. Too bad I didn't have anyone to enjoy it with.

Things between my boyfriend (ex-boyfriend, I reminded myself) and I went drastically south when I made the decision to sell my business. He was very grounded in money and holding on to what he had. I felt that I had gone as far as I could and it was time to let it go. I think he was hoping I end up as rich as a Gates and really wanted to take that ride with me.

I was no Gates, but I had enough to keep me comfortable for pretty much the rest of my life. If I invested wisely, I would be very, very comfortable. Frank, however, had to go. I don't think he'll ever forgive me. Que sera, sera, right? I didn't miss the man, but I missed our active and adventurous sex life.

Now, I didn't even have a hot bath to look forward to . I sighed and turned up the gaslight in the bathroom, the light so dim the corners stayed shadowed and mysterious. I looked longingly at the tub, a beautiful and deep with a slanted back and brass claw feet, it sat majestically beneath the large arched window. I have yet to get curtains or blinds and the surrounding hills were in sharp relief against the bright full-moonrise. Oh, how I would love to add a few drops of lavender oil to a steaming bath and soak the aches out of my muscles. It would be a just reward considering I had spent a good part of the morning scrubbing the stains and built up dirt out of it and the matching pedestal sink.

Sighing again, I turned away from the tub and stopped the sink up with the new rubber stopper I had bought for just that reason and, out of habit, turned on both taps. To my utter surprise, the water was warm. I turned the cold off and felt the water quickly becoming hot. I ran over to the tub and again, to my surprise and delight, was rewarded with steaming hot water.

I dropped the stopper in the drain and found my little bottle of lavender essential oil and after drizzling an indulgent dozen drops in, I stripped standing by the tub in full view of the open window. I was just about to step in when I heard the house sigh again. It unnerved me a little and I lit the candles I had sitting on the low wide windowsill. The flames dance in the breeze for a moment before settling down. I turned the gaslight down for a relaxing atmosphere and after testing the water gratefully slid into the steaming hot tub.

I gasped a bit at the heat of the water before closing my eyes and leaning back against the slanted end of the monstrous tub. I took the washcloth from the bath tray that spanned the tub from one side to the other and after wetting it laid the warmth across my tired eyes. As I sat back, I let the tension and stress from the day flow out of me and felt my muscles relax. My ease was so complete, that I think I must have fallen into a light sleep because I had to be dreaming the music I heard faintly playing.

It sounded as though it was coming from somewhere down the hall and I vaguely thought it might be my bedroom. It was so soothing, though, so soothing and peaceful. I felt light and even a bit giddy as I lay there with my eyes covered and my body enveloped in wet heat. The music was so entrancing, I began to dream, I think, of dancing. Of me, dancing with a mysterious partner. He wore a mask of crimson velvet covering just his eyes and I realized I wore a matching one of gold. He was dark and elusive and just out of my reach, but close to me as well. His lips skimmed my ear as he held me close, swinging me slowly around to a gentle waltz.

The room was suddenly alive with people, laughing and talking. A party or a ball perhaps. I had no time to think because he was dancing me out the door and onto the small terrace before leading me down the few step to the garden path. He felt much more solid now; he felt real. He pulled me back into his arms and toward the relative privacy of the garden. Toward the path where the rose bushes grew high and thick, a fragrant wall hiding us from prying eyes.

His lips descended upon mine, demanding and full of passion. His hand swept across the swell of my bosom and down again to where the flesh met the fabric of my costume.

"Did you do as I instructed?" He asked, his voice rough and commanding.

I could only nod as his hand slipped down farther, one grasping my skirt and pulling it up as the other search underneath the voluminous folds of fabric. He slid his hand across my thigh and cupped the roundness of my bare buttock.

"Good girl." He crooned, "You'll make a most obedient wife." He sounded so satisfied I had the strangest urge to strike out at him.

My thoughts changed quickly as his hand left the soft cheek and moved around to the front. I felt his finger brush against my most private opening. My outrage was tempered by an odd quivering, needful feeling between my legs. He pulled my head back and kissed my neck and sharply bit my ear. I cried out softly as I felt his finger slip between the folds of flesh that held my most sacred prize.

My outrage crumbled as pushed the offending digit in further. I could feel the slickness there brought on by his ministrations. It increased as he plunged his finger in and then out again. I wanted to cry out at the affront but found myself opening my legs wider allowing him better access. His thumb pressed onto that small nub that nestled between the soft lips of my sex and the pressure was almost too much for me to bear.

I moaned softly and he chuckled cruelly in my ear saying, "Soon, you will have all of me deep inside you. Soon, you will be mine; body and soul."

I felt a thrill of fear race through my body only to be replaced by something even more insistent. His finger had now been replaced by two and there was a soft sucking sound as they plunged in and out of me. I wanted nothing to do with this man, but I couldn't let go of him as I clung to his dress jacket with desperate hands. His fingers hurt as they invaded the small, tight opening that until tonight was my own. They brought me both pain and pleasure at once. His thumb cruelly pressed against the center of my pleasure, swirling it in hard demanding circles.

I felt something building, welling up inside me like a wave before it crests. My breath became shallower and my heart pounded in my chest as the feeling gained momentum. He bit my ear again and the feeling flowed over in a wave of pleasure and pain and was nothing like anything I had ever felt before. I could feel my body clamp down on his fingers as I moaned louder with pleasure before he harshly covered my lips with his silencing me. An earthquake of emotion and physical sensation rocked through my body as he held me close, his scent filling my nostrils.

When it had subsided, he removed his fingers and held them up in front of me. I smelled the not unpleasant, but musky odor of myself upon them. He pressed them against my lips, "Open." he said and I did so immediately, obediently. I tasted myself upon them and found that I rather liked it.

"Go." he said, "Powder your nose and get yourself together. I'll meet you at the buffet." And without another word, he left me there, still trembling by the rose bush and walked briskly away.

I woke up with a splash, gasping for breath. I had been fast asleep and my head had slipped down under the water. With my heart pounding and the dream still vivid, I climbed swiftly out of the tub and wrapped a towel around myself. The air outside the tub was cold and there was a breezy quality to it, as though, very subtly, the air was moving. I felt the air caress my skin and chill bumps raised up on my arms. I dropped the towel and I felt the air very specifically swirling around my nipples and watched with fascination as they hardened before my eyes.

I stood there feeling like it was very normal for a breeze to behave this way, even in a room with no open doors or windows. It felt very normal the to have the feeling of lips smoothing themselves over my sensitive skin, of them gently sucking on my nipples. And of kisses on the inside of my thighs doing what they were supposed to do. My legs opened wider for them and the lips focused their attention on the place where He had touched me violently and so beautifully making me come whilst sheltered by the roses.

"Wait." My brain stopped me there. "That was just a dream." Yet as that thought formed in my mind, the lips caressed every sensitive place on my body. Some of them became fingers and each was finding its way over my skin and probing the two openings at the apex of my thighs. I felt a finger slide into my pussy and sighed with pleasure even as I thought, "I'm sore." It felt as though this had been done before, roughly done, just like the man who violated me in the garden. I mean her. Me? Had it really been me? I was having a hard time separating that dream with reality. But am I still dreaming? This can't be real.

I felt myself being guided to the sink and bent forward over it. Again, this felt perfectly normal. It felt normal for my pussy to be so wet. For me to be waiting for something to happen. But what? This felt a lot like anticipation. Some level of my psyche knew what was coming and couldn't wait for it. The Sharona part of me, my current persona (what a weird way for me to think of my own identity), was completely clueless and a little scared.

As I bent over the sink, I stared into the old, silvered mirror. Stared into my own eyes and I waited, as the lips and fingers invaded my holes in the most pleasing ways. Two fingers were sliding in and out of my pussy, one finger bent slightly bumping my g-spot with every stroke. A third finger was coaxing my ass open, teasing and relaxing that strong muscle. I could feel lips there too and it was so exquisite and different. The pleasure was immense, I had fingers stroking sensitive places and lips kissing and sucking others, every nerve ending was alive and I came with a cry. Once I started, I couldn't stop. The pressure of the fingers in my pussy and my ass rubbing together through that thin barrier was more than I could endure and I came in a long stream of orgasms. By the time I was done, my legs were barely holding me up and I felt hands come to my rescue. There were hands cupping my breasts and swiping thumbs teasing my nipples. There were hands stroking my ass and pulling my legs apart. A set of hands clamped my wrist down on the sink and another set held me up by the hips and yet another held my ankles in place, forcing my legs open wider than before.

I felt something behind me and peeked into the mirror. What I saw could not be real. There was a mist forming behind me. The mist was cold where it touched my skin and as I watched it, it became more substantial, more solid. I could see the shape of its hand as it reached out and trailed its fingers down my back, leaving a line of ice down my spine. I could no longer feel soft fingers and warm lips. All I could feel was the hands that restrained me and the cold radiating off of him. Yes, definitely a male presence. I was terrified by what I knew he was going to do and how cold it would be when I realized I had done this before. Had I lived before? Reincarnation? Really? Is this how I died?

The fear I felt was real, but so was the desire I felt welling up within me. Maybe this will be ok. I noticed that the icy trail down my back was now warm and tingly. The thought of that feeling on my clit made my pussy clench with desire. He was touching me all my most sensitive spots. It felt like icicles at first, then slowly each spot would become wrapped in a warmth that seemed to move. Like the air, it swirled and teased and my desire only increased and my fears faded. Bent over the sink, arms and legs restrained only heightened my desire and my sensitivity to his ministrations.

I could feel his finger against the opening of my pussy a moment before he dipped it in and out quickly, leaving a wake of cold behind him. Before long though it warmed and I grew more sensitive. I welcomed his frigidness against the heat in my pussy. He took his time working his finger inside me, cooling and warming until my pussy was so sensitive that each time his finger entered me again, it drove me to the heights of madness. His thumb had sent a shock through me by placing an icy touch upon my clitoris, it had been refreshing and glorious until it slowly warmed swirling around that sensitive bud in a most pleasing way.

I was ready, I was begging him to fuck me. I needed to feel that cold turned to heat deep inside me. I needed him to be deep inside me. I had no other thoughts, I was begging him over and over, mindlessly saying, "Please, please, please."

I sucked in a breath when he rubbed his generous cock over my wet slit parting the lips like angel's wings and held onto the sink with all my might as he slid his frozen cock inside me. For a second everything in me froze and then in a flash, I saw everything clearly. I saw every lifetime I have lived. Every life, everyone. Every woman and man that I had been, I saw them all. More than one millennia of lifetimes all seen in the space of a fragment of a second.