The Old Mansion on Ninth Street

Nobody knew it then, but we learned later, that Julie is in fact the great granddaughter of Annelies' mother. Not that it mattered, but she is also one sixteenth Cherokee. There were deep connections there. I lost my concentration as I was making all these connections, and as I did, Julie had an otherworldly orgasm, the first I've ever known to be given to a woman by a ghost.

Julie's orgasm came as a surprise, as did her other-worldly scream of orgasmic pleasure. It was a scream that could have waked the dead, but the dead were already awake and fucking Julie, causing the scream. Julie's scream did nothing to calm the other party-hardy guests downstairs. Peter was telling everyone it was just Julie having a climax, and to my surprise, that actually helped. Apparently, most people know about how Julie screamed during a climax. The girl must get around more than I knew.

Later, when Julie made her grand appearance, once again as Catwoman, everyone applauded her. She blushed and hid her face in her hands. Roger was nowhere to be found, and everyone assumed it was a yet unknown stud at the party who had ravished her to the edge of her sanity. Nobody would have believed it was the ghost of one of the original inhabitants of the Old Snickers Mansion, up on Ninth Street.

**

Suddenly, I felt a change in the ambiance of the party. I could feel it within my walls. It was a coldness that permeated through my rooms, and a kind of stunned awareness among the people in attendance. I checked the main party room, and I got a rare surprise, which I instantly knew was the source of the strange vibrations. (I'm rarely surprised, I'm happy to say, so this was most unusual.) A statuesque thirty something woman had entered the party, hitherto comprised of exclusively twenty something revelers. The woman was tall, dressed in French or Italian designer clothes, thin to the point of being skinny, delightful little apricot boobs, and she looked very intimidating. She walked in as if she belonged.

Well, she did belong, in fact, which explained it. I alone knew who she was. Well, Old Man Snickers did, too, and also Peter, since the woman was the old man's daughter, and Peter's sister, Sondra Souleiado. Her blonde hair razor cut, and her blue eyes flashing, she walked with a purpose. I wasn't surprised; I had expected her to show up some Halloween, to confront her ghosts. One in particular, John Jacob Snickers, who died long before her birth, had nevertheless molested her during her impressionable teenage years.

If a girl claims loudly and long enough that she was raped by a ghost, she risks getting locked up in a looney bin. Sondra is not stupid, and after a long bout of hysterics, she seemed simply to let it go. Once she got properly laid by a high school boyfriend of the moment, her first time with a living human, she realized finally, that yes, the damn ghost really had raped her.

Even after a dozen years of intense psychotherapy trying to get over the horror of being raped by a ghost, Sondra wanted revenge on John Jacob. She had gone to the Division of Perceptual Studies (DOPS) at the University of Virginia's School of Medicine, and she had returned with weapons of her own design. She figured John Jacob would make an appearance at Halloween, especially this one, because precisely a hundred years had passed since the rape and death of his beloved wife, Annelies van Dryden. Sondra was stomping around, hunting for John Jacob, when she ran into Old Man Snickers.

Old Man Snickers was one clever dude. He talked to her a solid hour (plus an extra fifteen minutes), and finally convinced her that the way to make John Jacob, the ghost, reappear, was for the two of them to have (incestuous) sex. JJ, as Sondra called the ghost, would get jealous, since not only would somebody else be possessing Sondra, and in his own home (so to speak), but JJ's own descendant, to boot. It was a clever argument by the old man -- totally specious, but clever; and amazingly, it worked! One had to wonder just how naïve and gullible Sondra was. Sondra proceeded to shed her clothes, and lay down on the floor, her legs spread wide, with a silly, almost deranged smile, on her lips.

The sight of his daughter in such a state inspired an erection in the old man, and he quickly took his prize. He had advised Sondra to moan loudly, claiming that JJ would hear them, and come rapidly floating to the scene.

To the great surprise of Old Man Snickers, but so much for Sondra, JJ did in fact show up, while the two of them were enjoying what turned out to be one of the best fucks in history both for Old Man Snickers, but also for Sondra, who had never really enjoyed sex since her teenage ghost rape. The two lovers continued their legendary fuck, while JJ watched from a floating chair. That is, until Old Man Snickers shivered with a sudden onset of a frightening coldness, as JJ entered his body and temporarily possessed his soul.

Sondra smiled. She had JJ just where she wanted him. All she had to do was to use her ectoplasm eviscerator which she had made herself using ingredients she had partially bought at a Virginia gun show in Charlottesville, VA; she'd have to stop the fuck in order to be able to reach it, however, and she discovered that the fuck was simply too wonderful, too magical, to stop.

Moreover, as she had the thought of using the eviscerator on JJ, who was hiding in plain sight inside Old Man Snickers, whose body he had (once again) possessed, she felt a building inside her; a feeling she didn't recognize. As the feeling grew, she began to moan, and moan, and moan even louder. She actually began to sound like what many people think a ghost might sound. It was no ghost, however, it was a grown woman's reaction to an intense arousal during a spectacular fuck.

Sondra realized she was being fucked by two men at once: Her father, Old Man Snickers, and her ghost rapist, John Jacob Snickers. It was one penis, but two men were using the one penis to be inside her. Not only was this a once in a lifetime experience, it was undoubtedly a never in a lifetime experience! Her orgasm almost burned out the insides of her brain, it was so intense. Julie Stockard's scream, as spectacular as it was, was grandly dwarfed by Sondra's otherworldly scream.

Sondra's scream echoed throughout the hallows of my many rooms. Everyone shivered as they heard it, then shrugged, and went right on partying. Some of the revelers made a mental note to congratulate Peter later at his brilliance of the organization of such realistic sounding moans and shrieks. This Halloween party would go down in history as the best ever held in Tippecanoe County!

Sondra forgot all about her eviscerator, stumbling around in a daze within my walls, forgetting why she was there!

**

There was still the small issue of Peter losing his virginity. He blew his big chance with Stephanie, and now he was drinking too much, a bit despondent. The whole tenor of the party had changed after the other worldly rape of Julie, which Julie herself later came to think of as consensual non-consent. Joanie had been terrified almost out of her skull, but Peter, bless his soul, had led her to Old Man Snicker's old panic room, dating from the 1950's, and the impenetrability of the room calmed Joanie down.

In addition, as far as I knew, and I knew everything about the mansion, since I am the mansion, John Jacob the ghost never even knew about the panic room, and never went inside it. Even just to find the panic room, you had to go down a secret passage laced with cobwebs, and then punch in the exact right combination to open the solid steel door. Joanie and Peter were secure. Joanie impetuously kissed Peter in deep gratitude, once her hysteria took its leave. Had Joanie wanted to retain her virtue, and it was not a priori clear that she did, kissing Peter was a mistake. As I said earlier, that young man can really kiss!

Peter felt that Joanie was the incarnation of a sexpot. She turned him on. He had idolized Stephanie as a goddess, but Joanie was more of a normal person, like himself, and he genuinely liked her. Plus, according to me, his Old Mansion of Ninth Street, she had a crush on him. Their time together was magical. They kissed a long time, with Peter too terrified to take it further. It fell to Joanie to take the next step, and she did it by kissing Peter's neck while running her hands through his healthy head of hair.

Joanie's boobs were in constant danger of falling out of her costume, but somehow they never did. It was the magic of boob tape. Peter's hand slipped nicely through the gap in Joanie's outfit, and he had her luscious right boob in his hand! Holding his breath as he waited to be slapped, or told no, he eventually exhaled when all Joanie did in response to his hand's trespass was continue to kiss him. Joanie pushed Peter's costume up around his neck (the top part) and Peter broke away to take it off.

In a transient burst of courage, he pushed up on Joanie's top, and Joanie took the hint: She turned away from Peter, showing him her backside, and proceeded to take off her entire costume, boob tape included. She was now before him in only her skimpy panties, and she turned to face him, showing off her boobs to him, complete with rigidly erect nipples. When Peter immediately moved to slobber on her boobs, Joanie giggled with pleasure. She undressed Peter, down to his boxers.

The two youngsters got on the cold, steel floor of the panic room, Joanie spread her legs, and Peter dry humped her. He dry humped her for a good long time, and sure enough, Joanie climaxed just from the dry humping. She loved having his hard cock, rubbing up and down her slit, hit her clit on the upswing. Peter didn't even realize she had climaxed, but the glands that make her pussy juice (her Bartholin glands, for those who care about such things), sure knew all about her climax. She was now good and wet. She was ready. She was wet and ready.

Joanie pulled off Peter's boxers and grabbed his cock. Peter was terrified he would cum, like he had when Stephanie had grabbed his cock earlier that evening, but he didn't. He didn't! Maybe Stephanie had been right, and the first time had taken the edge off? Peter slid off Joanie's lace panties, and reveled in the sight of her delectable pussy. Even I, the old mansion who has seen it all, has to admit Joanie's pussy is a nice one. Perhaps not as well used as Stephanie's, or as sweet as Julie's, but it was unsurpassed in the world of sexy. It was a damn nice pussy in its own right.

Joanie was on her back now, her chest heaving, showing off her gorgeous boobs to Peter's hungry eyes. Joanie finally caught Peter's gaze which had seemed to be everywhere on her body, except on her face. "I want you, Peter. I want you inside me," she said.

"You mean, now?" a terrified Peter replied.

"No time like the present," Joanie said, as Peter maneuvered himself into position. Then, just as Stephanie before her, Joanie grabbed Peter's dick to guide him inside her. She didn't relish Peter poking around trying to find the opening to her inner soul. She knew how inexperienced Peter was. Everybody knew.

As Peter slipped into Joanie's amazingly well lubricated entry to paradise, he realized why people loved sex so much. The sensations were beyond magical. Joanie also responded enthusiastically, making Peter feel like a success as a lover, and as a man. Joanie moaned, and wrapped her long legs around Peter's ass, pulling further inside her, or at least trying to (Peter was already inside her as far as he could get).

As if that were not enough, she kept up a constant stream of chatter, with cries of "Oh yes; oh my God, yes!" and "Peter, you feel so good; you're so good! Don't ever stop!" and that was of course in addition to her increasingly loud moans.

Soon Joanie was screaming out her pleasure, while under the (false) illusion that the panic room was sound insulated. In particular, John Jacob, his long dormant sex drive reawakened by his rape of Julie, which Julie in fact ended up loving, heard the sexual moans and groans of pleasure emanating from the panic room. It's not well known, but ghosts have exceptional hearing abilities.

John Jacob passed through the wall and checked out the sexpot Joanie, in her throes of orgasm. Could he be unfaithful to Annelies now that he had discovered her on the astral plane, via Julie Stockard who, after all, was a descendant of the same blood line as Annelies herself? He watched Peter go to town on the oh-so-willing pure essence of woman, namely Joanie, and he wanted her, too.

Anyone would have wanted Joanie, seeing such a sight before his very eyes. However, he did nothing, and for two reasons: First, he couldn't sully the memory he had recaptured of Annelies, and Second, he had exhausted his ability for now to assume human form. So, he just watched.

At one point, Joanie opened her eyes. She looked deeply into Peter's loving eyes, as the endorphins washed over the two of them, and she thought she had seen behind Peter the ghost of John Jacob, hovering over them, watching with the appreciation only a true voyeur can manifest.

John Jacob was on his way out of ghost purgatory, heading to some sort of unspecified afterlife. Joanie did not know what to do: her choices were to scream, to hide under Peter's body, or simply to smile at the ghost. She chose to smile at John Jacob, as the oblivious Peter continued to pummel her body with his cock, bring her the best kind of pleasure.

Somehow Joanie's genuine smile, plus the recaptured love for Annelies that Julie had unwittingly, but in the end, enthusiastically, supplied; and the resolution with Sondra; caused an enormous peace to engulf John Jacob's troubled soul. His eternal existence as a ghost was ending. He knew he was now to be allowed into the afterlife that had always escaped him.

I felt the presence of John Jacob Snickers leave the temporal plane, and I shivered at the loss, and yet, in as much as an old mansion can be happy, I was happy, and I am glad that John Jacob has finally found his peace. The party continued, and awards were given for best costume, for sexiest costume, and then, after way too much booze, the carousers had a contest for best boobs.

Almost all of the women went topless, to the extreme delight of every single man there. There were some true surprises, such as when even Stephanie Bravac bared and showed off her boobs. She didn't win, the prize went to Joanie, and it didn't hurt Joanie's candidacy that she was leaking Peter's cum all over the makeshift stage.

Second prize went to the very well fucked Julie, and Stephanie edged out Melissa for third prize. (Peter thought that was a steal; his ordering was of course Joanie first, then Melissa a close second, followed by the amazingly beautiful and icon of his wet dreams, Stephanie Bravac.) Peter idly wondered if Stephanie eventually did get it on with someone as revenge against her husband, but now that he had fallen in love with Joanie, he didn't really care.

Stephanie's husband Sam Something had once again fallen unconscious due to drink, and Stephanie was getting nervous. She decided to drive him to the ER if only she could find her clothes. Suddenly, it came to me! Sam's last name is Solveno. I was thrilled I finally remembered it, and I did it, moreover, without anything to drink! Good thing, too, because Old Mansions really shouldn't drink. I don't want Bourbon emerging from my sump pump, you know?

Anyway, all ended well, even quite well. Peter, Joanie, and of course Sondra, are planning to visit the grave of John Jacob Snickers tomorrow (well, today, since it's now well after midnight), on All Saints Day. Julie and Roger will be visiting the grave of Annelies van Dryden, too. I hear they're buried side by side in Greenbush Cemetary.

Stephanie is at the hospital while Sam Solveno gets treated, and according to the hospital building, her eyes look dreamy and a smile of delight keeps creeping across her face. Only the Old Mansion on Ninth Street, namely me, and a man I shan't name, know the source of Stephanie's secret pleasure. Sam Solveno might never know what truly happened inside the Old Mansion that Halloween. I have so many secrets! I love it.

Happy Halloween.