by Folia Deux
His hands grasped her breasts and twisted her nipples, and she arched her back, wanting him to grab her harder. He found her wet, dripping pussy and his cock dove into her again, riding her hard, each long, slick thrust bringing her closer and closer.
“You wanted this,” he said, his low voice raspy, just like it had been on the voicemail. “The first time you stepped into this house, you wanted to be fucked on this table.”
She nodded dumbly, barely able to hear him. Her ears rushed with a sound like a hurricane, of her passion and desire cresting so high, so fast that she could barely control herself. Her hands flew above her hand and she held onto the other edge of the desk, to push back against his onslaught as he bucked and fucked her.
“Oh god, OH GOD!” Sienna screamed, as her orgasm pounded through her body. She jerked, the aftershocks taking her, her pussy squeezing rhythmically around his thick cock as he kept pushing and thrusting. She felt him rising to his peak, and somehow in the fuzzy aftermath of her orgasm, she had a single coherent thought.
This has to stop. After this.
She timed it just right, waiting for his breathing to become rapid, exhaustive and panting, for his face to change from concentration and desire to ecstasy that was nearly agony.
And then Sienna pushed his pelvis away, grabbing his cock, smothered with her frothy juices. His eyes popped open with shock as he watched her piston her hands up and down his rock-hard shaft. He tried to push her away, but even he couldn’t control himself so close to the brink.
Hot cum shot out of him and sprayed her belly and tits as he roared through his orgasm. She milked every last spasm of pleasure over her and finally let go of him, exhausted.
His head sagged as he leaned on his arms over her, where she lay spent, her legs hanging limply on either side of his hips.
She watched him carefully, and found that she could concentrate for the first time in ages. His gold hair dimmed, became white again. And the ruddy flush of life that he’d worn was faded too. He paled when he finally met her eyes.
“Why did you do that?” he whispered.
“Because I know what you’ve been doing to me.” He was making her forget herself, forget everything but him. And she needed to wrest control, in any way she could. Sienna pushed him away from her. She was actually surprised when he let her. Her lace slip was barely on, but it didn’t matter. She needed her clothes.
“You wanted this,” he reminded her.
“I wanted to fuck. Not to stay in this house, forever and ever.” Her thoughts were still blurry, but not so bad that she didn’t know what she had to do. She woozily made her way upstairs and found her old clothes, blinking dazedly at the piles of discarded lingerie that she’d been wearing. Like a dress up whore in an old movie. Whose were they, anyway? How many women had he enslaved with his phantom body? But it didn’t matter. None of it was real, the way her life had been real before she got here.
“You can’t go.” He stood by the doorway like a beautiful Greek statue, naked and now fully white again, his magnificent dick asking to be sucked, to be touched.
“Watch me.” She jiggled her firm ass into tight jeans, ignoring the fact that she couldn’t find her panties. She pulled on a dirty t-shirt, grabbed her purse, and pushed past him down the stairs.
As soon as she reached for the doorknob, she felt him at her back. Holding one arm, the other sliding around her waist, embracing her the way that Alan never did. Tears came to her eyes. It wasn’t all physical to him. She knew that now, but it was too late.
“No, I can’t. I can’t!” she gasped, and opened the door.
“Don’t, Sienna!”
She stepped halfway out the door. Suddenly, one ghostly hands on her arm disappeared.
She took one more deep breath and one more step forward onto the porch.
The arm wrapped around her waist disappeared, too. She spun around and looked through the open door and saw nothing. Heard nothing. Her mind was crystal clear again. The sun was so strong in its fall brilliance that she was blinded for a second.
Wait. Please. Leave me something to remember you by. You have your life to live, but I’ll be alone forever. No one has ever fit me like you, Sienna.
Sienna stared at the gaping doorway, saying nothing. Her heart wrenched, imagining an eternity of being alone. She riffled through her purse and found her Tiffany heart pendant tangled at the bottom. She didn’t remember even taking it off. Maybe the pendant was good luck, but look where it brought her. Sienna didn’t need it anymore. She knew how to take care of her heart. She didn’t need a chunk of metal to remind her.
Sienna took it and tossed it through the open door. It hovered in mid air, just beyond the threshold where she knew he’d caught the trinket.
“Goodbye,” she said. She heard no reply in her mind or ears. She was beyond his reach now.
The door slowly closed. As she turned and trotted down the stairs, she felt his phantom eyes on her, as if the whole house watched her every move. She unlocked her car and took a deep breath, smelling the faint scent of upholstery mixed with cigarettes. Her foot pressed the gas pedal hard as she backed out of the driveway and turned onto the road.
Sienna’s nipples tingled and her clit buzzed and ached, as if they already missed him. But like an addict who stopped cold turkey, she also felt a despairing loneliness. As she watched the haunted house diminish in size in her rearview mirror, tears splashed onto her lap.
Her hand went instinctively to her neck where the pendant no longer hung. Somehow, she had a funny feeling that this wasn’t really goodbye forever.
THE END
About the Author
Folia Deux spends her days making the most of her filthy mind. She loves twisting holiday tales into erotic fantasy and feeding the lascivious appetites of her readers.
Folia Deux Erotica
Please check out Folia’s other books on Smashwords.
Taken by a Mummy
One Night with an Incubus
Ravaged in the House of Horrors
A Gift from Folia Deux to you.
Free Excerpt from
RAVAGED IN THE HOUSE OF HORRORS
We reach the entrance, no overhead light to show us the way. It’s freaking dark, and for a moment I’m sure the door’s going to be locked. But just as we reach it, the thing opens, revealing a dimly lit entryway. And a very tall … executioner. Broad, built, and at least six-feet, six inches. His head is covered in black leather, and only his eyes, black as coal, are visible, along with his chiseled jaw. His cloak swishes as he peers down at us.
“Here for the haunted house?” he asks in a friendly, innocuous kind of voice. It’s completely at odds with his battle axe, which looks real as hell, its blade glinting in the yellow light of the room, something maroon crusted along its edge. Lifting the heavy-looking thing easily, he gestures at the arched doorway directly behind him. The sign over it says “House of Horrors,” and just beyond it, I see movement, things slinking around in the murk. A distant cackle. A muffled growl. Witches. Werewolves. A good, clean scare.
“Sort of.” Laura’s grip on me tightens like she thinks I’m about to run. This is my cue.
“We’re, um …” I say. And then I stop, my heart in my throat. If Jaida was telling the truth, this is going to be intense. Am I ready for it?
Laura reaches into her purse and pulls out the admission fee—a few hundred, and Jaida promised it was worth every penny. “We’re here to get perfututum,” Laura blurts as the executioner accepts the fee, her voice shaking as she utters the password.
We looked it up. Perfututum, as it turns out, is Latin for getting totally fucked.
My stomach tightens at the idea.
The executioner, one broad hand clutching his axe, runs a finger down Laura’s cheek. My best friend’s pupils dilate. My own nipples get hard. I suddenly want him to touch me, too. His fingers slide along the column of her neck and down the front of her dress, circling her pearled nipple, easily visible through
the thin fabric. She’s not wearing a bra; unlike me, she doesn’t need to. He pinches that pebbled bud hard, and she gasps. I almost moan. My fingers twitch as liquid desire slicks between my legs.
He releases her breast and points. “You can go that way,” he says to her. “Walk right through that door, but remember, there’s only one way out.” He guides her around and gives her a gentle shove.
She looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes glazed. “I’ll see you on the other side,” she says in a breathy voice. And then she’s gone.
He turns back to me. “And what are you here for?” He takes a step closer. “Lots of scary Halloween fun right back there.” His voice is back to that friendly, harmless tone, but it doesn’t match his menacing, incredibly sexy appearance. Unbidden, my fingers slip over the back of his hand, but I pull away quickly at the electric warmth that crackles from him.
I look down at the gap in his cloak. His black leather pants don’t conceal his massive hard-on. My mouth waters. My hands shake as I reach into my purse and pull out my admission fee. His fingers rise and tip my chin up. “You sure?”
“Per … perfututum,” I whisper, offering the neatly folded bills to him.
He chuckles, deep and rumbling, and pushes my fist, clenched over the cash, back against my chest. “Yeah … no. I’m not convinced. You have to want this to get it.” Again, he jerks his thumb over his shoulder, at the garishly lit sign for the run-of-the-mill haunted house, full of zombies-and-werewolves-and-witches-oh-my. Boring. It’s like a threat, a punishment.
“I do want it,” I say, frustrating creeping in, making my stomach and thighs tense. I thrust the cash against his chest. It’s been months since I had sex. And a thrill—one that really made me feel alive? A lot longer than that. But if I don’t convince him, this guy is going to send me into PG-rated hell. Desperate, I take advantage of the moment his hands rise to grab the hundred-dollar bills. I’ve got his pants unbuttoned and unzipped before he can stop me. He might be masked, and he might be on the job, but he’s a guy, and I’ve got his number. But my fingers barely manage to circle the thickness of his hot, silky cock. My eyes widen. Suddenly, I’m not sure I want to go further than the door. I might be able to find what I want right here.
He hisses as my grip tightens, sliding up and down his dick. “What the fuck,” he moans. “Okay. Okay. You’re going through that door.” He points to one on the opposite side of the room, not the one Laura went through, and not the standard haunted cheese-fest.