**This is a direct continuation of Chapter 3. It's been a while since I've updated this story line, so take some time to read the others in the series, and don't forget to vote!**
Velma sped down the road driving her beat up VW van. She'd barely managed to keep it running all these years, and it wasn't the van of the investigation company of her younger days any longer. The loud blue and green van with bright red lettering had since been repainted to a powder blue. The inside had been completely redone in the past few years, but Velma simply couldn't afford to have the engine completely overhauled.
Her pussy still tingled from fucking her daughter's boyfriend. She just couldn't believe how much he looked like Fred from the old days. "Damn bitch," Velma hissed under her breath. "You let him cum in my cunt, the least you could have done was let me fuck him," she bitched again, dodging pot-holes on the gravel road as she sped off to the abandoned Old Mill. "Oh well, I'm getting mine through your son," she said, smiling. Velma felt her pussy release a squirt of juice, her thoughts of having Max's rock hard meat in her cunt and ass was keeping her sex boiling hot and making her body tingle. Her nipples were on fire, the course knit of the sweater raking against them with every turn of the wheel.
She was at the Old Mill sooner than she expected, and her legs were still a little wobbly from the Gin and from the fucking she'd just received: she almost fell out of the van. She straightened herself up and sighed deeply. She could feel the crotch of her jeans was wet with her soaked pussy leaking her juice and what was left of Max's cum. Her nipples were at full attention, noticeably tenting the orange yarn of her sweater. With a second sigh, she stepped into the front door of the Old Mill. Inside she saw Fred, Daphne, and Shagger standing there, waiting impatiently.
"Bout fucking time," Velma said, crossing her arms under her tits. Velma almost licked her lips remembering what those rose colored nipples tasted like, and even better, what that strawberry blonde bush tasted like when it was dripping wet.
"Down, girl," Velma said, chiding herself. She could feel the heat in her crotch radiate out even hotter, her oven of a pussy growing wetter in lust. Velma forced herself to focus.
Norville was wearing his typical dress these days; loose tan cargo pants, a loose and oversized t-shirt with some band logo she didn't recognize, and his trademarked shaggy brown hair. His boots were new, too; steel toed combat boots from the looks of it. He was there with the bored ambience that was worn by many burned out stoners from the 70's.
Daphne was there, wearing tight fitting blue jeans, faded in all the right places and wearing thin along all the seams. With her taste, Velma couldn't tell if that was the latest fashion or one of her allowances that she gave herself; too comfortable to throw away no matter how out of style they may or may not have been. She was wearing a lavender cable-knit top which served to accentuate her modest bust with its swelling lines around her still-firm tits. Her shoes were white sneakers, spotlessly clean like the rest of Daphne's clothes.
Freddy, the ever-present leader, was wearing cargo pants like Shagger was, but they were darker and seemed more dressy than their stoner friend's. His shirt was a white t-shirt, a size too small, which showed off his muscled chest and shoulders like he wasn't wearing anything at all. Velma felt her quim quiver with desire, and then had to fight off a full body shiver over how much Max looked like his dad. Her eyes drifted back down his body to the outline of his prick hanging down his right leg. She kept moving her eyes and noticed that he was wearing a pair of boots much like Shagger's.
"Well, what's your excuse this time?" Daphne said, tapping her foot.
"I...uh..." she stammered, not wanting to tell Daphne that she had just pulled Max's huge cock out of her ass before coming here and that she'd been fucking him while talking to Daphne a few minutes ago.
"Looks like she's had a booty call," Shagger said, his eyes riveted to Velma's crotch. Everyone looked down to the dark fabric at the junction of Velma's thighs. She turned bright red and her face shot up to look Daphne in the eyes.
"Who the hell have you been..." Daphne said, almost laughing at her friend's embarrassment.
"You won't be laughing if I tell you," Velma thought to herself.
"Does it matter?" Freddy interjected. "Look, we haven't got this thing solved in 20 years. I just want to find out how haunted this place is. There isn't electricity hooked up here, there hasn't been since 1968 and there's still lights seen around here. It's been boarded up and nobody's been here but us, supposedly, and people still hear equipment running."
"Yeah, but, like, we never have," Shagger said calmly. He was looking around, familiarity with the Old Mill still not taking away his dread.
"Whatever, Shaggy," Daphne said, putting heavy emphasis on his most hated nickname.
"Daph, I know I told you..." he said, letting his voice trail off.
"Can we not fight? Yeah, it was a queer nick-name that you got from the studio. Daphne probably shouldn't have called you "Shagger" in front of the execs in the first place, but she did, and they changed it to Shaggy for you. Big fuckin' deal. You made your million, you stoner fuck," Velma spat.
"From what I recall, you sure do like to fuck the stoner," Norville said under his breath. Velma couldn't help but remember Shagger's huge dick; almost 13 inches long and as thick as her own wrist. He was always gentle with her unless they were all high. The night Jess was conceived they were both fucked up on coke and he pistoned that huge rod in and out of her like a jackhammer. In the middle of the fucking, he'd stretched her out so much that he could actually burry all of his monster in her wanton cunt. She felt another surge of cum gush from her cunt and she couldn't suppress the full-body shiver this time. Shagger smiled and leaned back, the offense completely gone from his stance.
"Look, Goddamnit, this is going to be our last time trying to solve this fuckin' mystery," Fred said, pushing himself into the conversation. "The cops won't give us clearance again to get in here and this is the only mystery we've never solved. We need to find out what the fuck is going on here and who's doing it, or if this place really is haunted."
"There's no such thing as ghosts," Velma murmured. Fred sighed deeply and his eyes closed in frustration.
"I know, you silly cum guzzling twat," Fred said firmly. "That's why we have to figure it out."
