Steamy Stories (Volume 1)

by Malia Mallory

  Chapter 9

  The shower felt wonderful. Warm water cascaded over her head and shoulders and behind her closed eyelids; she went over the day’s work. She had accomplished quite a lot as the first week ended. Mentally ticking off the finished rooms, she knew that the first floor painting and improvements were done. The contractors would be moving on to this floor to work on the bedrooms. Her suite would be the last finished. She wanted to get the rest of the house done first. As she reached for the shampoo, her fingers passed through coldness and she suddenly opened her eyes. Looking around, she had the strangest feeling that someone was watching her. Shaking her head, she put it down to imagination. She’d been here for a week now and nothing had occurred. Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a short towel around her hair and grabbed another to dry the rest of her. The skin moisturizer was waiting on the vanity and as it was absently applied, her thoughts started to wander again to her plans. Yawning, she entered the bedroom and grabbed a pair of white cotton panties. She was just too tired to put on a pair of pajamas. Climbing under the sheets, she fluffed her pillows and turned off the light. Sleep claimed her in mere minutes.

  Time passed and everything was quiet. Deeply asleep, she didn’t see the door opening or the impression of footfalls on the carpet that crossed the room to the bed. For a moment, nothing else happened and then the sheet that covered Annabelle began to move down until it finally pooled onto the floor at the end of the bed.

  Annabelle mumbled in her sleep, and went from lying flat out on her stomach to flipping over onto her back, as she stretched across the bed. She settled back into a deep sleep with a sigh as her fingers flexed slightly. Suddenly, her nipples started to move on their own, and the impression of invisible fingers could be seen massaging and tugging at the hardening tips.

  “Mmm…” she muttered in her sleep, as the tip of her tongue ran over her dry bottom lip.

  Minutes passed, and silently Annabelle’s panties began to move down her hips. They continued sliding past her legs until they finally joined the sheet on the floor. It was then that her legs were slowly pulled apart, and her womanhood was slightly moved around by an unseen force.

  Annabelle’s eyes began rolling under the eyelids, undoubtedly a hint of a wonderful dream as the erotic assault continued.

  Annabelle’s erect clitoris was peeking out of the hood of her delicate folds of skin and could be seen moving back and forth, as it glistened in the moonlight. She was definitely aroused as the moisture began pooling between her thighs.

  “Mmm…mmm…oh yes,” she whispered in her sleep.

  Unconsciously, she opened her legs wider as if responding to the supposed dream she was experiencing. It was then that her womanhood parted wider as if something big was entering her. Her moans of pleasure were now becoming more pronounced, but as something began to lift her legs off the bed, she suddenly woke up.

  She felt the sensation of falling as her legs dropped to the bed. Meanwhile, the apparition left the room.

  Annabelle sprang up in bed believing that she’d just experienced a vivid dream and discovered that the bed beneath her hips was damp. For a moment, she didn’t even realize that her panties had been removed or that the sheet was on the floor. Then she felt the moistness trickling between her legs, and stood up to recover the sheet from the floor. It was then that she found her panties and looked around the room.

  Did something supernatural just happen to me? She thought.

  Shaking her head, she put it down to an overactive imagination. She must have pulled her panties down because of the intenseness of her dream. It was the only explanation which made any sense. After settling back in the bed, she soon returned to sleep, definitely unfulfilled but with no further incidence of anything reoccurring that night.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning Annabelle was kept busy giving directions to the contractors and making final adjustments for the next floor. She had all but forgotten her crazy dream. She decided to throw her energy into the work ahead. At midday, she took a break and decided to have her lunch down at the lake. With that in mind, she made a few sandwiches, packed a small flask of sweetened iced tea and left the building. As she walked down the driveway, she turned back to admire her new investment, and could swear she saw a man standing in front of the fourth floor window watching her. The contractors shouldn’t be up there yet, she thought, but continued on, thinking that perhaps the supervisor was checking out the work ahead.

  She heard a car coming around the turn, at the end of her driveway. She turned to see a neighbor coming up the road and forgot about the figure standing in the window.

  “Where are you off to, Annabelle?” said her neighbor after the car window slid down.

  “I’m just taking a walk down to the lake, I thought I’d have a bite to eat down there for my lunch break,” replied Annabelle.

  “Well hop in, I’m driving past there.”

  Annabelle never looked a gift horse in the mouth. She climbed in and they chatted, soon she was being dropped off near the lakeshore. Saying her thanks, she continued across the grass and on to the water, pleased to see benches strategically positioned all around the lake. She made a beeline to an empty bench shaded by oak trees. Sitting down and taking a sandwich out of her cold bag, she started to munch around the corners of the bread and admired the picturesque view. The peace wasn’t to last long though, for minutes later she heard a greeting called from behind, and found a couple of elderly strangers slowly approaching her spot.

  “Hello there, do you mind if we join you? My husband and I always come here a few days each week to feed the ducks and to enjoy the scenery,” said the woman.

  Annabelle estimated their age to be somewhere in the ninety range and was moved to see that they still held hands when walking.

  “I don’t mind at all, in fact if you’d like to have the seat, I could move on,” replied Annabelle.

  “Oh no my dear, that won’t be necessary, we’d enjoy your company.”

  Annabelle moved to the end of the bench giving them more than enough room to join her. The ducks on the lake apparently recognized the couple as a small group began swimming in their direction. Annabelle watched as they arrived, quaking their arrival. The elderly lady proceeded to baby-talk back as her husband gave her slices of bread to break into pieces and toss in their direction. Her husband kept the food coming until the last slice was gone. He folded the empty bag and as the ducks appeared to quack a final approval as they headed back to the water.

  “So my dear…what brings you here, are you on vacation?” said the woman, as she brushed a bit of bread from her fingers.

  “No, I’ve purchased and am renovating the large house on top of the hill with a prospect of turning it into a bed-and-breakfast,” replied Annabelle.

  “Oh…do you mean the haunted manor?”

  “What makes you call it that?” said Annabelle, interested in what the old lady knew.

  “There was a murder there some seventy years ago. Apparently the wife poisoned her husband, the reason why was never discovered. Anyway, since then, the property has changed hands several times. The previous owners never stayed for more than a year before putting it up for sale again. It was vacant for about five years until the last owner, Mr. John Andrews, purchased it. It’s my understanding that he’s one of the remaining descendants of the original owners. I’d say he’s been here for about the last twenty years and word was that he was going to make improvements before putting it on the market.”

  Annabelle said, “He and his real estate agent, Edward Davis, gave me a tour of the estate. At the end of the tour, Mr. Andrews advised me that it may be haunted, but I never paid much heed. If there is something haunting the building, I’ve had little evidence of it. Now that you tell me the story, I can’t help wondering if it’s the original owner and he’s in need of help. Perhaps he can’t cross over or he has some unfinished business,” finished Annabelle.

  “Maybe, but whatever the answer, i
t’s quite refreshing to see someone who’s actually concerned about the ghost as opposed to being frightened by it,” replied the Lady.

  “I’ve never believed that ghosts can actually harm anyone. In fact, I’ve always thought that if they were present, their only wish would be to interact with the living. As of yet no one has tried to contact me, but I do keep hearing things. There are some cold spots in the house and I thought I saw someone in the upper bedroom window, but I’m certain it was one of the men working on the house.”

  “By the way, I’m Nancy and this is my husband, Geoffrey,” said Nancy.

  “I’m Annabelle, pleased to meet you both.”

  “Oh that is so weird…,” said Nancy, surprised.

  “What…my name?” replied Annabelle?

  “Oh no my dear, I mean the fact that your name is the same as the woman who poisoned her husband in that very house you’re renovating. I believe that his name was Richard.”

  “Wow…that is weird. What a coincidence; but still, when you think about it, it was a popular name years ago,” replied Annabelle, shrugging it off. “Well, I need to get back. I have a few more hours of work to get in before stopping for the day. It was a pleasure to meet you both…you have a nice day.”

  With that, Annabelle was up, gave a smile and started to walk back up to the road. On the way, back she couldn’t help but notice all the old buildings lining the main road. Even from a distance she could tell that they’d all been well looked after. With lawns that were perfect and trees that lined the road on either side, it was quite an idyllic place to live.

  Fifteen minutes later Annabelle was walking up her own drive, and taking note of all the things that needed attention. The weeds around some of the bushes needed seeing to, and there were a few cracks in the driveway itself. Overall though, the property was well kept, and these were just odd jobs that she’d get to eventually.

  Once inside she went straight back to work, and after two hours had finally finished reviewing the progress of the painters. She went outside to see how the new landscaping sections were going and was satisfied with the progress of the workers.

  Chapter 11

  Heading inside to the welcome coolness of the house, she went along to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine before going upstairs and taking a quick shower. Heading for her chaise in front of the window, she began to unwind with a novel she was in the process of trying to finish. She dozed off somewhere towards the end, thinking she didn’t like how the story was progressing. Waking up, she noticed that the room was dark, so she changed for bed and crawled under the covers. She was still very tired and tried to sleep, but after an hour, she still felt wide awake.

  Getting out of bed, she quickly crossed to the bathroom’s medicine cabinet and shook two sleeping tablets into her hand. Heading back she quickly took them with the last swallows of wine in her glass. Twenty minutes later, Annabelle was in a very deep sleep. The only difference between this night and the last was that it wasn’t cloudy and the full moon was shining through the window. The light bathed the room in an almost magical aura.

  Everything was quiet until the early morning hours, when the door to the bedroom could be seen opening again, much like the night before. The same footfalls came towards the bed, only this time when the apparition crossed into the moonlight, the translucent figure of a man could be seen. He stopped at the foot of the bed, and stood over Annabelle’s sleeping form. His eyes intently gazed upon the contours hidden by the covers.

  Bending forward, he began to pull the covers that hid her from his gaze, and slowly they slid down and uncovered her body, until they ended up once again on the floor. She was wearing underwear, but this time they were just bits of black lace. His eyes continued up her body to the twin mounds of full and shapely breasts. He grew hard gazing at her, and he climbed onto the mattress and straddled her body. Just then, a huge cloud blocked the moonlight and the figure disappeared from sight, but the squeezing of Annabelle’s breasts gave away the fact that the apparition was still there.

  Annabelle murmured softly, asleep and unaware that her nipples were now stiffly erect. Had she been looking at them, she would have seen the pink-tipped ends moving back and forth and being pushed inward as if someone was licking them. The ghostly mouth continued pulling and sucking on her nipples, and then there was the telltale sign of small imprints traveling down her body, as if someone was kissing her abdomen until they reached her panties. They rose slightly, and it appeared as if fingers were roaming under the material, until they started to be pulled down and over her thighs. They moved down to her toes until they were being pulled off and left to drift to the floor.

  Imprints could be seen coming back up to the bed and then her legs began to part and her buttocks rose slightly. The lips of her sweet sex parted and were moved back and forth, and the indentations over and around the clitoris made it pop out from the protection of the tiny hood that covered it. Then her bud was moving from side to side, and although Annabelle was in a deep drug induced sleep, her body began to react.

  “Oh, oh yes…oh…mmm,” were the sounds coming from her lips.

  Seconds later something was inserted into her willing and very moist body, because the lips parted leaving a clear and wide hole. Her head began to move back and forth on the pillow as her body was being pushed backwards and forwards and then the moonlight hit the room once again. There on the bed was the apparition. His hands were holding Annabelle’s legs up tight on his hips while his head was thrown back in ecstasy. His mouth was silently groaning his approval as he violated her body while she slept.

  “Oh please don’t stop,” she uttered, as her head rolled from one side of the pillow to the other.

  Then she could be seen rising off the bed and her legs were opened wider. With each thrust, her breasts rolled back and forth. The figure then started to glow a brighter white making his features more pronounced. Annabelle could be heard raising her voice as she began to approach her climax. At the very peak of her orgasm, she opened her eyes and screamed, “I’m coming.” Her body was gripped in the throes of pleasure and she wasn’t quite sure what was happening.

  She finally realized that it wasn’t a dream and caught sight of a hazy figure on top of her, thrusting. She could feel it entering her body and then it shuddered and stopped. Suddenly she fell to the bed and caught sight of something moving quickly out of the room and away from the moonlight that was revealing it. She let out a whimper, her hands clutching the bed as she tried to figure out what had just happened. This wasn’t her imagination this time. She could feel where her body was still tender from the fullness of his invasion. Her body was weeping with pleasure and the aroma of sex filled the air. She had a good look at the face of her assailant as it turned to look back before it disappeared from the room. He was young and a quite handsome man, and the fact that her body even now was recovering from what had to have been a very intense moment, made her feel cheated. She now wished she’d not awoken, but of course, she had and now she knew what had happened the night before.

  Chapter 12

  Annabelle wasn’t able to fall back to sleep and passed the time going through the rooms and down the halls, but the apparition was gone. She decided to turn on her computer and search for any news clippings concerning the murder that happened here years ago. It wasn’t long until she found one. The short piece was taken from the local newspaper and read, “Richard Granger, age 35, was found dead at his home, on the morning of October 21, 1940; police are looking into the whereabouts of his wife, Annabelle.”

  The article went on to say, that it was discovered Richard had been poisoned and the police wanted the wife for questioning.

  The other articles she found only mentioned it in passing, there were no further developments in the later writings. The only other comments were along the lines of, “This was the second murder in the town’s surrounding area.” The first occurred in a drunken brawl that got out of hand. Annabelle sat back in her chair and thought
about the events of last night. It still sent a shiver down her spine, along with the mixed feelings of anger and curiosity. She wondered why or even how this spirit could do the things it did last night, and the more she thought about it the more she wanted answers.

  In the end, Annabelle finally went up to the fourth floor where she’d seen the figure in the window that day. She crossed over the room to look down onto the driveway searching for the spot where she had stood.

  The early morning sunlight was beginning to illuminate the grounds and it was Saturday, so she was going to be alone in the house for the rest of the weekend until the workers returned on Monday. She felt like a fool for what she was planning to do but she’d never been the type to put things off. She turned away from the window and walked back to the doorway.

  “I’m assuming that you are Richard Granger; if you can hear me I’d very much like to communicate with you,” she forcefully said aloud.

  The house was silent, nothing could be heard other than the slight wind outside.

  “If you can hear and understand me, would you let me know by making a sound? Any sound will do. I want to talk to you,” she said.

  At first there was nothing but silence, but just as she was about to walk through the bedroom doorway, she heard a door slam in the hall. Quickly going out of the room, she checked the other bedroom doors but they were all closed. She went to each room, one by one, gingerly opening the door and peering inside. She reached the final door and stopped, there was a faint scratching sound coming from the inside. With her hand on the doorknob, she silently stepped inside and there on the far wall was scratched the word ‘understand.’