Dedicated to MrsX, who provided the inspiration for this story. However, as with all my stories, this is a work of FICTION.
Jill slowed down as the House came into view; she was walking towards it with her dog. Part of her was afraid, because it was a dark November night and she was alone, except for Ben, her Labrador, and yet she was also excited. Why else would she walk this way, and this hour, it wasn't as if she had too. Yet she knew the answer, because it excited her, she needed the mix of fear and sexual excitement, her nipples were already hard and erect, and were rubbing against the material of her bra, and there was a warm damp tingling between her legs, that would soon spread throughout her body. Hopefully her husband would be in bed and asleep when she got back home later and then she could do something about it before she went to bed.
As she began to near the overgrown hedge, she slowed down until she was standing still and she listened to the sound of the night. Was he there? This had all began a few weeks ago, well no; it must be six weeks now. She had been passing by this very same spot and she was certain she was being watched. She couldn't see anybody, and at first she was afraid, but this was soon replaced by curiosity and excitement, and even though she had avoided the House for a few nights, she found herself wanting to comeback. When she had returned, it all seemed normal, and Jill began to wonder if in her sexual frustration, she had imagined the feeling of being watched.
However, after a week, it was there again, the feeling, that somebody was watching her as she walked past the derelict House, the one that all the kids claimed was haunted. Hmmm, she had thought, perhaps it's the ghost? Well, this went on for several weeks, always the same, as she neared the house, a tingle down her spin and then a growing buzz of excitement, part fear and part sexual, as she passed by the hedge at the corner of the street. She had started have fantasies, dark ones, about strange men, which shocked and excited her, and found herself increasingly forced to masturbate more often, which itself left feeling both ashamed and guilty, and yet gave a sense of release and fulfilment.
Then one night as she neared the hedge, she could hear breathing, not loud, but just on the edge of perception. She had pause for a second, looking at the hedge and then again as she neared the driveway. The sensible part of her brain was screaming RUN YOU SILLY WOMAN and yet the intense sexual excitement she was feeling mixing with the fear was building up to the point that she almost had an orgasm there and then. For the next week or two, it had remained just the same, the sound of breathing. She had considered taking torch, to see if she could catch the little pervert. It was probably some little bastard having a laugh at her expense, but she didn't want to scare him off, so she left the touch at home.
Then came that night, when the breathing was louder and different, faster, more urgent, intense. Again Jill had paused, wondering at the new sounds, and then she noticed a new noise, a sort of slap, slap. At first she was puzzled, and then with a frill that buzzed, coursing though her, she realised it was the sound of somebody masturbating. Her fear had taken over that time and had got the better of her, and she ran home. But in bed, lying next to her sleeping husband, she found her hand moving down her body, as she replayed that night's events through her mind.
The following night, at the same time, she found herself standing there again, listening to the sound of somebody, panting away, until she heard him groan loudly and emit a long drawn out sigh. She knew the person was definitely male, that much was obvious from the tone of the breathing. She was so horny she almost started up the drive of the House in search of her masturbating admirer. What would she have done had she met anybody she couldn't begin to imagine, well actually she could imagine, and her thoughts both terrified and excited her. Later, back home, the sounds of her own passions were so loud that they actually woke her husband from his sleep, and she had to make up something about having a nightmare or something.
So, after all these weeks, here she was again, crossing the road to the corner were the big old empty House stood, listening for the sound of breathing. However this time, she could not hear anything, nor did she have that feeling of being watched. Disappointed she paused and lingered for a while, allowing the dog some slack, so he could sniff around the leaf covered pavement. After a while, when it was obvious he wasn't going to be there, she began to move along the path, but as she passed the entrance, she looked up the overgrown driveway and stopped. There was a light, well more of a glow; it seemed to flicker a little. Oh my, she thought, somebody as set fire to the house. She stood there staring, considering what she should do? Perhaps she should call the fire brigade; there was a call box on the way back home. As she stood there she began to rationalise what she was looking at. There didn't seem to be any smoke, and the glow, while soft, didn't appear to be spreading, not like a fire at all she told herself. In fact it looked more like candle or lamp light.
Before she realised what she was doing, she had taken several steps, and was now standing on the drive. She paused for a moment. What the hell she was doing, the sensible part of her demanded. Then she took several more steps, while listening carefully for any sounds, especially that familiar breathing. She knew she was being a fool, that she shouldn't be doing this, but she had become so addicted the heavily mixture of sexual excitement and fear that she could not control herself. Her nipples were so hard they were hurting, and her panties where soaking with her juices.
Three quarters of the way up the drive with the house looming over her, she stopped dead. She could not force herself to go forward any further and stood frozen to the spot, fear and arousal fighting for control of her body. She badly wanted to slide her hand down her body and pull her thick long skirt up so that she could slip her hand inside her soaking knickers. Her hand involuntary began to move downwards, but a sudden yanking movement broke the spell.
Her dog had pulled the lead out of her other hand and he was now racing up the remainder of the drive towards the house.
"Damn it! Ben! Come back now, BEN" she called in a loud whisper, but he was now pushing at the front door of the house, and as it opened slightly, he disappeared through it.
"Bugger" cursed Jill, and set off after him, whispering urgently after him "Ben, BEN, come back now, BEN!" But he didn't return, and Jill now stood before the battered and stained front door the House. It was only open slightly, not much, just enough to allow Ben to slip though. She could see the glow, but not its source and she leant forward.
