** This is a work of fiction; all names and places are fictitious. Any similarities are coincidental.**
The widowed Bonnie Parker owned the Victorian house on the hill on Center Street. It was a foreboding house; it was no surprise that the old Victorian was subject to stories. The village kids grew up with those small-town legends and tales. One of those tales was that the Parker mansion was haunted. So, as the kids and teenagers retold those stories over the years, most of the village kids believed that the house was indeed haunted in the quaint, quiet village of Union Grove.
The steep gabled roof, with turrets and two towers, looked imposing in its blue-gray color and the rose-colored gingerbread trim and shutters. It, at times, could look somewhat foreboding. On the roof, there were two lightning rods. Both were witches riding broomsticks, which could be why some kids thought Bonnie Parker was a witch--adolescent thinking and gossip.
Bonnie Parker was somewhat of a recluse; she didn't participate in many public events, even though she would be charitable. Bonnie was fifty-five years old, and her long, firey red hair tinged with gray flecks would usually look wild and unkempt unless she ventured out to the market or one of the local businesses.
Her tall stature and emerald green eyes were still startling to some, not to mention that she had that name, Bonnie Parker. The same as the infamous 1930s-era bank robber and murderous partner to Clyde Barrow. She heard the uncalled-for ribbing, "Hey Bonnie, where's Clyde?" Well, you get the picture.
Bonnie Parker was lonely and sexually frustrated. Bonnie lay on her back naked in the middle of the bed. Bonnie had her legs spread wide and bent at the knees. Her huge melon-like breasts were adorned with long, prominent, coral nipples that were jiggling like molds of jello as she plunged a large dildo in and out of her red-haired cunt.
Bonnie's self-caused loneliness was her doing; however, a woman had her own needs. The giant dildo slurped and queefed as she furiously fucked herself, her ass rising up and down off of the mattress. Bonnie's grunting and groaning gave way to her vocal urging, "Oh god, oh fuck, this feels so fucking good! Fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Bonnie had a satisfactory sex life with her late husband, James. Bonnie was the dominant one in their marriage, at James' initiative. James had an embarrassing sexual fantasy. He nervously took a chance, and he confided in Bonnie about his curiosity for female domination. Clyde bashfully laid out to Bonnie his desire to be spanked and dominated.
Bonnie heard him out; she kept an open mind and asked her questions. Bonnie remembered how eager and happy James was when Bonnie agreed to try it. With the embarrassment more fit for a schoolboy, James pulled his pants down and nervously lay over Bonnie's lap. Bonnie then spanked his bottom with authority.
At first, James eventually tried to move his hand back to block the spanking. Bonnie would have none of that. She lectured, "You are the one who came to me saying how badly you wanted this. Now you've got it! I hope that you like it, James! Because I am thinking that I love spanking your ass!"
James accepted the spankings and the paddling. He also became Bonnie's little cunt lapper; all she had to do was snap her fingers and point. James would lick her cunt like a starving man. Even sometimes after Bonnie stood up from using the toilet. James would lick the golden drops of piss off of her red-haired pussy. James would even submit to licking her ass all over.
As Bonnie eagerly fucked her pussy with her dildo, these were the things projected in her mind. She thought of those hard spankings that she had given to James. Bonnie thought of his tongue lapping her excited pussy as she sat on his face and how his tongue felt as it darted in and out of her asshole occasionally!
Bonnie gasped as she fucked herself and thought of James licking her pussy and rimming her pungent asshole! She cried out to her empty house as a powerful orgasm rushed through her body. Bonnie gasped, and her eyes were tightly closed; she groaned and then became frustrated that she was alone without a willing tongue to lick her pussy right now. Then, the loneliness and absence of another's intimate touch would get the better of Bonnie. She missed that intimacy of another person's touch. Those feelings that she would get were becoming more and more frequent, especially after the pleasure of masturbating was over.
.
Bonnie slowly removed the dildo from her wet, juicy cunt. The wet slurping sound made her chuckle, "Aww fuck, I pity the first man that I fuck! Oh, sweet baby James, if you are watching this, please, come and lick my wet pussy!"
Bonnie held the thick, long dildo up, seeing her secretions covering it. She settled it so it was between her pillowy tits, then she licked the head as she pushed her breasts together. Bonnie lay her head back down; she shook her head, "Damn lady, this loneliness shit, is starting to eat you up. I think you need to find another submissive, at least for your sanity's sake."
Bonnie groaned and then reluctantly got up and took a shower. She walked through her old Victorian house naked, undaunted by the rumors and stories associated with her house. Ghosts, spooks, and spirits, Bonnie knew all about those stories, that her home was haunted and that she was a witch. The little fuckers, well, I guess that if there are any spirits in this house, they can kiss my bare, white ass! Bonnie giggled at that; the thought of ghostly lips on her bare ass gave her a slight chill. However, she sometimes felt chilly spaces and imagined spirits were probably sharing her home.
Freshly showered and naked, Bonnie was vigorously toweling her hair dry. She walked down the hall to her bedroom. Bonnie could feel her asscheeks and her breasts shaking as she dried her hair.
Bonnie entered her room and hung the towel over the back of her vanity chair. She looked at herself in the sizeable oval-shaped mirror. She could see the bed behind her where she and James used to fuck in the mirror. Bonnie then looked at herself closely, hefting her boobs up. Her nipples were still engorged. Her eyes dropped to the triangle of thick red hair between her thighs.
Bonnie shaved her pussy hair off once. That was enough, all of the upkeep and itchiness, not to mention fucking razor burn. Fuck it! She gladly let it grow back; besides, it made it more challenging for James to lick his cum up. Bonnie turned and looked over her shoulder at her ass. Her alabaster-like skin tone would mark and blush easily. She bent forward, then reached back and spread the cheeks of her ass open. She saw her crinkled, pink asshole with a sparse growth of red hair around it.
Bonnie felt almost like she had been trying to win a battle with cold turkey lately. She wanted human contact, yet she was unsure if she wanted a relationship with someone. That was just her stubborn character lately. James has been dead now for almost nine years. She had become even more reclusive after his death.
Bonnie sighed; she once again thought about that night when James died. Bonnie felt guilty and responsible for his death. She craved a Dairy Queen M&M Blizzard. She asked James to go out to get her one after a spirited round of domination and sex. Of course, James always wants to please and make Bonnie happy and gladly goes out to get it for her.
James was driving down the highway, and a very drunk driver crossed the center line, hitting James head-on. James died instantly. Bonnie was sick with guilt and grief as she remembered James' last kiss, and then he said to Bonny, "I love you, baby. Thank you for everything you do for me; I mean it with all my heart!"
