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Haunted Sex House

By: FeverDreamer



The small, rusted car finally died before it could crest the hill, as Tim pumped the gas pedal and punched the steering wheel in frustration. Fruitlessly he tried to re-start the car as no lights shone on the dashboard, and the car sat in darkness on the incline of a small road passing through a thickly wooded area. A cold autumn rain pelted the landscape. Finally he gave up and turned to his mom, who was quietly sitting beside him with a worried expression on her face, "It's no use, mom. Here, get behind the wheel, I'll push us up to the top of the hill, maybe we can get the engine going while the car rolls downhill."

"But you'll get soaked!" his mother said, but Tim was already outside. Denise shifted over, raising her body over the gearshift between the seats, and settled in behind the wheel. As she signalled back and forth with her son, who slowly started pushing the car up the small distance to the top of the hill, she thought about how they'd gotten into this dilemma. 

She'd taken a daytrip out to Tim's college to pick him up for the weekend. A distant relative had died, and, as his mother had told him over the phone, "They're leaving you some money, the least you can do is show your face at the funeral." It wasn't someone they'd had much interaction with, but knowing they were meeting for the occasion of someone's death made the atmosphere between them heavier on this gloomy last day of October.

Denise had hopped into her old car and quickly travelled the distance to the college where Tim was in his first year, and Tim just hopped in with a small bag of clothes before they were off again. On the way back they discovered that one bridge had been closed for maintenance work that would take all weekend - all the freeway traffic was directed onto a small detour route that was packed with cars. At this point Tim studied the map and decided to take a small country road that would cut across a rural area and bring them back home much quicker than the jammed and detoured freeway. Which is how they ended up on this small, winding road travelling through foothills, with the sun having dropped behind the trees almost an hour ago.

Tim managed to push the small car up to the crest of the hill, though his muscles ached and his clothes were soaked through with sweat as much as rain. It was the one time he was thankful that as a single mother, his mom could only afford a small, light rustbucket for transportation; he would have died trying to push a heavier car. He opened the passenger door and gave the car another gentle push and then hopped in, "Ok, mom, try starting it now! No breaks. While it's coasting downhill!"

The were almost entirely quiet as they both listened for the sound of the engine starting, for any noise or sign at all other than the car speeding up downhill, and then slowly slowing down as the ground levelled off. As the car slowed to a crawl again Denise just steered it to the gravel shoulder. They were both dispirited and out of ideas. Then Denise spoke up.

"Look! A house! And, Tim, is that a light in the window?"

Tim looked over to where his mother was pointing. There did seem to be the dark outline of the house in front of a line of trees, and something was showing in one of the windows, though it was faint enough that it was hard to tell if it was a light from inside, or just reflected off an external source. Closer to the road Tim's eyes now made out a driveway with a mailbox on a post and a low steel gate.

"Yeah mom, it is. We can call for help!"

"Hold on, maybe that's just the moon reflected in..."

"There's no moon out, mom, it's pouring rain. And even if they're asleep, we have to wake them, what else can we do?"

Denise shrugged her shoulders and agreed that it seemed to be either this choice or no choice at all. Tim got out again and pushed the car til it was against the gate. The metal gate was either locked or just rusted shut, it was hard to tell in the darkness of night. But beside it part of the wire fence had been bent and torn down til you could just step over the lower portion. And so they both got out of the car, Tim carrying his small bag, and Denise with nothing since she hadn't brought anything along, and they began to walk towards the house, neither of them with an umbrella or even a rainproof jacket.

Halfway there they passed a large old tree that overhung the gravel driveway that led up to the house. Denise glanced up again.

"Tim! The light isn't on in the house anymore!" She almost had to yell to make herself heard over the sound of the heavy rain lashing everything in sight.

"Um...well...I don't see how we have a choice, mom." Just then thunder rumbled and a half-second later lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating everything, illuminating with a cool white light mother and son with their hair soaked, wet clothes stuck to their bodies. Then it was dark again, and the rain intensified. "Run, mom!"

They finally found shelter under the roof of the front porch. The house looked very different up close, with lots of weeds grown up around it, and most of the floor-level windows smashed and boarded up.

Tim knocked hard on the heavy wooden door. "Helloooooo?!? HELLOOOOOO? Open up! We need help!" He found a heavy old metal knocker and used that too, then went back to pounding his fist on the door. "We just need to use your phone!"

Denise stood behind her son and shivered. She saw the pile of leaves blown up against the door, the paint peeling off all the woodwork. "This was a nice house in its time, Tim, but I don't think you'll get an answer now. It's obviously abandoned." Indeed it had been a nice house, two stories and a cellar, a solid cube whose owner must have been quite well off, possibly with even some live-in hired help.

They looked at each other as they dripped water, illuminated by the occasional lightning strike. Tim had grown to be almost a full head taller than his mother, his wet shirt sticking to his lean frame, and his brown hair, slightly unkempt and in need of a cut, now laying flat against his skull. 

His mother had dark hair that was soaked through as well, and would have fallen all over her face during the run if she hadn't had it in a ponytail that dropped past her shoulder blades. Her body was fit but with significant curves, something she regretted in times like this, when her wet jeans clung awkwardly to the crack of her prominent thick round ass, and her shirt had gotten so wet that every little lace detail of the strong bra underneath clearly showed through as it supported her generous breasts.  They looked at each other and shivered. Then Tim got the unspoken hint, and turned the doorknob as he charged his shoulder against the door: Bam! - Bam! - BAM! - craaaaaacccckkkkk.

As the door gave way Tim stumbled through, and his mother followed. There was a musty smell around them, but it seemed otherwise dry. It felt a lot warmer than the air outside, and Denise closed the door behind her. It was entirely dark except when lightning flashed, illuminating the interior for fractions of a second.

"Tim!," Denise called out, "I think I saw some candles on the mantle in this room to the side. Do you have matches or anything?"

"One sec, mom..."

Denise heard something fumbling and scratching in the darkness. The lightning had abated for a moment, and she felt a chill down her spine when she considered that the night was so pitch-black in here, it might not be her son making the noises. That might not be his shallow breathing near her. She almost yelped aloud when a flame finally lit up the room. Her eyes blinked and she saw it was Tim with a flame in his hand.

"I, uh, happened to have a lighter on me," he explained to his mother. Tim swung the flame around. They were in the front hallway of the house, with a staircase leading up to the second floor, and the hallway, with doorways branching off it, proceeding deeper into the gloom of the house.

"If it's any consolation," Denise said, "I don't think we're barging in on anyone." The floors were bare wood, with colourations where carpets had once lain. Empty rectangles showed the places of former paintings on the faded and cracked walls painted emerald-green. There was dust everywhere.

Tim added "Yeah, barging in on anyone...or anything."

Denise wondered what he meant, but decided not to pursue it. "I - I think I saw the candles in that room over there."

Tim went in first with the light, and lit up a couple of half-burned thick wax candles that rested on the mantelpiece, before extinguishing his lighter. The candles had been used before, the old wax had once run hot and dripped like tears, and was now dried into the form of the wood-and-stone mantle surrounding the fireplace.

As the flames caught on and the candles brightened, they looked around at the room that they were in. It seemed to be an old study or salon. The walls were painted a deep brown, and there was the fireplace, empty bookshelves along one wall, an old leather sofa in decent condition, and a few wooden chairs, none of them matching, roughly placed against the wall.

Tim dropped his bag to the floor and dropped himself down on the couch, letting out a loud sigh that was a mix of exhaustion and frustration.

"I think this is good enough to stay for the night," his mother said, "The windows seem fairly well sealed with boards, and we can close the doors that lead out."

"Maybe we can start a fire to keep warm too," Tim suggested.

His mother wrinkled her nose. "I don't think so. For a lot of reasons, but mostly because who knows what the chimney is like. We'd be more likely to poison ourselves. No, let's just get dry, and leave at first light. I'm going to need to borrow a change of clothes dear, looks like you have enough here...trust me, I'd wear my own if I had a dry stitch to spare."

His mother crouched over Tim's bag and unzipped it, starting to root around inside it with her hands. She pulled out a pair of cotton gym shorts and held them up, muttering, "good enough." She pulled out a white shirt and idly looked at it, and was about to gather it up when she felt Tim's hand on hers.

"Oh, mom! N-No, not that one!"

"Timmy! Honestly, what's gotten into you?" Denise said, and pulled the shirt away as Tim's hand yielded. She unfolded it and held it up to the light.

Apparently she had only seen the back when selecting it. It was a sleeveless shirt, really not more than an undershirt, or a 'wifebeater', as she had heard them referred to in slang terms - but there was a large design on the front that said BUTTMAN MAGAZINE, and on either side of the words were cartoon women, on one side a busty blonde in ridiculously high red platform heels, and a thread-thin thong bikini, and on the other side a black girl looking like the stereotype of 'ghetto', with a rolled joint in one hand and a bottle of booze in the other. Needless to say, both drawn women were bending over and displaying their ample and round derrieres.

"Were you going to wear this around the house, mister?" Denise smirked and turned the design towards Tim.

"Uh, N-no..." he was nervous, mostly looking at the floor. "I, uh...bought it at a novelty store. No, wait, I won it at a bar or something...don't worry, mom, I have other shirts for you..."

Denise bundled the shirt up and clutched it to her, then picked up a pair of socks and stood up. "That's ok, dear, I picked it, I'll wear it." She went to the mantle to pick up one of the candles. Inwardly, Denise felt amused at her son's discomfort, and at this little view of what his life must be like at college. She wasn't offended, and thought it might lighten the mood to wear it for the evening, with all the downers they'd been through. A cute joke.

She went through the other door in the room, not the one that went out into the hall. This one led to a small side room, and Denise wondered at what its original use was, though it seemed to be a bedroom in its last stage, with a bare wire-and-metal bed frame still standing against a wall, and a dresser made of dark wood. As she set the candle down on the dresser, she saw the many scratches and nicks in it, looking almost like claw marks. Perhaps someone had kept a large, angry dog in such a small space? After Denise finished changing, she looked at the window and realized that part of it wasn't boarded up, that there were still panes of glass that looked out over the dark void that was outside this old abandoned house. And that allowed anyone else to look in. Denise tried to orient herself to think about what direction this window might have been facing. She gave up. What time was it now? Past midnight, maybe? She wasn't sure of that either. She thought what if someone had been watching her change, strip down totally naked, down to her bare skin illuminated by the soft light of the candle, towelling herself off with her old wet clothes before slipping on these new ones. Who would be out in a deserted field in the middle of the night, emerging from the dark woods? Old grizzled inbred sheep-fuckers boozed to the gills and carrying shotguns...

Denise shivered and shook her head to get rid of the image. Too many late-night horror movies, she thought to herself. She picked up the candle in one hand and the old wet bundle of clothes in the other, and went back into the other room.

She walked in on her son just pulling a new pair of boxer shorts up over his ass as he faced away, otherwise naked. He half-turned and gave a sheepish grin, "Oh, hey mom, you were taking so long I thought I'd just change here...I was soooo soaked."

Tim half-turned and hoped the pulse in his crotch was just something due to the feel of his dry new boxers on his cock, and not the view of his mom as she strode across the room. Her feet were in grey athletic socks with three horizontal stripes, and from there her strong legs led up to where Tim's old yellow shorts were stretched over her body. Tim may have been taller than his mother, but she certainly had him in terms of the size of her thighs and ass, and Tim saw the way the old shorts hugged her juicy round ass, the material stretched and slipping down and showing just the barest hint of bare asscrack. From there some of her midriff, admirably toned for someone her age, was entirely exposed, before the aforementioned Buttman shirt started above her bellybutton, holding down her large breasts that were otherwise without a bra.

Denise looked down at herself and smiled, 'Hmmm, looks like I'm stretching your shirt out a bit, huh?! Soooorrry." She mockingly giggled. Now that they were dry some of the tension was gone and Denise felt like she was a teen on a sleepover. Her hair was unbound now, falling freely, slightly curly and falling past her shoulders, except in front where the bangs were cut just above her brow.

Tim crouched over to try and hide his swelling cock as he rummaged around in his bag and wondered what was wrong with himself, trying to send his cock signals to calm down. He pulled out and put on a black t-shirt which probably wasn't the greatest choice either for a sleep-over with his mom - it was for a metal band, and featured, among other things, a large blood-dripping pentagram, a huge goat skull, and several shapely women in Viking armour brandishing large swords. He was glad when his mother declined to make a comment on it.

They reduced the light to one candle as they both lay down on the couch, heads at opposite ends. The couch was large enough that though they were aware of each other's presence, they weren't uncomfortable. They covered themselves with some other items from Tim's bag - a couple of thick towels, and some sweatshirts. Tim could feel his mom's hip against his thigh, and wondered if he was occasionally feeling the softness of her breast on his feet. Denise for her part found herself pressing closer to her son, not so much for heat but for comfort. She enjoyed the manly smell of his rain-washed body. Each of them thought they were the only ones feeling a building erotic charge.

They both slept for a time.

"M-Mom? Do you, uh, hear that?"

"Mgph. The storm's just picked up again." Indeed it had. Thunder grumbled and lighting flashed through the seams in the boarded-up windows. A scratching sound seemed just outside the walls, and Tim tried to recall if there were any large trees that could sweep their branches against the house in a storm.

"Do...do you think, mom, is there a basement to this place?"

"Ummm. Probably. Didn't see any stairs down, though. Why, you wanna go exploring?"

"It's just...that sound. Can't you hear it? Sounds like it's coming from under us."

"Probably just rats, Timmy. Old houses like these have them. Let's go back to sleep."

Tim heard his mother quickly go back to snoozing. But he could not shake the feeling that there were sounds coming in both from the walls and from the floor. Especially now from under the floorboards, increasing. Something, some-things, crawling and creaking and scratching; crawling over each other, trying to get up. Speaking things like an animal trying to pronounce words, some message Tim felt he was on the verge of making sense of, as he felt his cock grow harder in his shorts til it had no more room and poked out the fly.

Despite his fear, Tim knew he had fallen back asleep, because he was startled awake again when he felt his mom move, push her warm body against his own for a moment, and then push herself off the couch and onto the floor.

Tim watched her crawl along the floor for a moment, and was about to ask something, but the words died in his throat. There was something very strange about the way she was moving, and he played as though he were still asleep, watching through one half-lidded eye.

His mother was on all fours as she crawled along the hardwood floor, her ass up higher than her head, her big tits swinging under her in the tight shirt as she moved methodically, illuminated by the single candle. She put her nose to the floor and sniffed, moved forward a few steps, then lowered an ear to the ground. She stayed that way for a moment, then crawled a few feet away, and listened again, ear to the floor. Her heart-shaped ass seemed to Tim to start to make little circles in the air as she kept her ear to the floor, her mouth half-open, wet tongue visible between her white teeth. She repeated this a few more times, crawling unnaturally, something like a crab.

Finally she went to the fireplace, knelt up, and lit up every candle that was there. Then she turned around and crawled back to the couch, until she was looking at her son Tim, almost nose-to-nose with each other. Tim was startled as he realized that, unconsciously, he had unwillingly sat up as he watched his mother move, and displaced their makeshift blankets. By the cool breeze on his cock, he knew it was rock-hard and sticking up out of the fly of his shorts.

"Son," his mother breathlessly spoke, and her eyes glittered as she looked at him. She put her hands on the bottom of her shirt and pulled it extremely hard against her big tits, then pulled it over them, exposing her large milky breasts. "You want to touch these, don't you?"

"Oh mom," Tim said as he licked his lips and couldn't help but reach out and lightly stroke a breast with his hand. Both of them moaned. Very soon both his hands were on his mother's exposed breasts, rubbing them, caressing them, feeling the hardness of her nipples. Denise grinned and arched her chest out more, giving her son access to her breasts. She pulled her shirt up over her head and then shook out her hair, then grabbed her son by the back of his head and pulled his face onto her breasts.

"Mmm, that's it Timmy, c'mon you horny fucker, suck mommy's hot tits. Fuuuuuck, they're so sensitive."

Tim licked and sucked away, moaning as he kept his mouth fully open most of the time, trying to taste every inch of those big breasts. As he came up for air he mumbled, "B-but, mom...why, mom?" and he went back to her breasts, sucking as much of a tit into his mouth as he could as he looked up at her face.


Haunted Sex House



Denise cradled her son's head as she looked down at him. "Oooh, it's what they want, can't you hear them?" A loud roar came from under the floorboards, one that might be, by the extreme cynic, taken to be a combination of the house timbers shifting with the pipes shivering with an animal in the neighbouring woods being viciously killed. "We have to please them or we'll never get out alive."

Denise smothered her son's face in her breasts til he could barely breathe, and then pushed him back onto the couch. She put her hands on his waistband and said, "Push up, baby." She tugged his boxers down in one stroke, and her hands went back to his bare ass, squeezing it, as her son's cock bobbed in front of her face.

Her hands moved to it, one hand stroking the shaft, the other rubbing the balls, as Tim sat back, lightly moaning, his thighs spread. His mother spit on his cock. "Don't worry baby, mommy's gonna get us through this." She dropped her head down and stated sucking on the cockhead as both hands stroked the hot shaft. "Fuck you got a big thick cock for mommy, don't you Timmmy?"

Tim closed his eyes in pleasure as he felt his mother's mouth on his cock. He was already trying not to blow his load. He was finally able to speak again as he felt his mother's hot mouth on his cock. "So...so, you felt it too, huh? They...they want us to do this? This is why my cock got so hard? We have to have sex, mom?"

His mother went deep on his cock, and he felt the tip of his cock hit her throat as she gave a little gag. She slipped off and looked up at him and smiled, "We've got to do it, baby...or those demons...they'll kill us...brutally...rip us to shreds...ghosts and demons and spirits and shit." And she dropped her mouth back down on her son's cock.

Tim mostly sat back and moaned in pleasure as he felt his mom work his cock, suck on it til his entire leather seat was wet with the drool from her mouth dripping off his cock and balls. He leaned back a little more as his mother stroked his throbbing cock with one hand while lapping away at his big heavy balls, taking one in her mouth and moaning.

Denise spit on her son's cock and then said, "You want mommy to give you a special treat, baby? I don't do this to every guy, but you're so sexy and I love you so much. And I know you won't freak out about it, right? Grab your knees and pull 'em up, c'mon." 

Tim didn't have time to think about what she was going to do, he just put his hands where she showed him and pulled his legs up, didn't realize anything until her mouth was on him.

"Ooooooh......fuuuuck mommmmm...that's my fuckin asssssss....you're lickin my fuckin aaaaaaassss...oh fuck, pushin tongue in, fuckin hell...."

Tim's knees were almost up to his chest as his mother pushed her face into his asscrack, while one of her hands kept stroking his throbbing cock. Denise felt her son's cock pulse in her hand as she jerked it up and down, rubbing that oozing precum into his shaft, while her tongue pushed past the tight ring of his ass. Pushing her wet tongue into the heat of his ass and pushing it in and out, flicking it around.

"Fuck, mom, I'm gonna cum!!" Tim moaned out. Denise moved her mouth back to his cock, slurping it up and down, looking right up at her son as she filled her mouth with his cock, one of her hands rubbing his balls, the other working a finger up his tight ass.

Denise felt the first shots of thick hot sperm exploding in her mouth. Tim lay back, arms loose at his sides, moaning like a retard, as his mother took as much of his cock in her mouth as she could, and his cock and balls pumped out load after load of jizz into her mouth as she sucked and swirled her tongue around.

Finally his cock was done and it felt so sensitive and sore as his mother sucked out the last drops and then loudly popped her mouth off the half-hard cock. She kissed up his body from his cock, over his stomach and then his chest, crawling over her son, til she licked up his neck and under his chin, finally sharing a hot wet long open-mouthed kiss with Tim.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that this stud under her was her own son, who she was meant to protect and take care of and not exploit. And part of Tim's mind still knew that the horny harlot that was now making out with him, kissing him hungrily with a hot wet mouth still bearing the traces of his fresh seed, was his mother, the woman who would always have his respect and who he had known since before the day of his birth. But right now they were in the grip of something greater.

As they kissed and rubbed on each other's bodies, Tim's cock quickly grew harder again. "Damn, mom, I've got to fuck you," he moaned out, and grabbed the pair of his own shorts she was wearing, and began to tug them down her hips.

They twisted around until his mother was lying on the couch on her side, and Tim was on the floor, pulling the shorts off her feet. He looked up at her big ass on its side, hanging off the edge of the couch, and put his hands on it, rubbing and caressing it. "Ooooh, fuck, mom, your ass is so hot." He leaned in and ran his tongue over the pussylips sticking out between her thighs.

Denise moaned and groped at her own tits as she felt her son start to lick and suck at her wet pussy. She yelped when she felt that tongue run around the pucker of her asshole in little circles. "Mmmm, you baaaad boy, eating your mother's ass....ooooh, suck that tight hole, baby."

Denise felt Tim's hands caressing her ass and thighs as his mouth worked her asshole, then went back to lick and suck on her pussy that was wet as a swamp, and his tongue flicking on her engorged clit. She threw her head around, looked up at the ceiling, and saw the flickering shadows from the lit candles. It was funny, but the shadows almost looked like bodies. Humans brushing together, intertwined, doing...things...

"Fuck mom, I gotta put it in you." Tim stood up over his mom, stroking his cock, which was hard again. Denise looked up at her son, smiled, and rolled all the way onto her back. There she was, naked, on her back, thighs spread, tits slowly jiggling, as Tim bit his lip and ran his fat cockhead up and down her pussylips, and then pushed in.

They both moaned as Tim started to work his cock in and out of that pussy, getting deeper, making his mother gasp louder, her tits really starting to rock as she lifted her legs and locked them around Tim's body, interlocking the ankles behind his back.

Tim put his hands on his mother's large breasts as he huffed, looking down at her, "Fuck mom, you're so hot. We need to do this all the time."

"Mmm, we'll see, baby. For now keep fuckin that cunt with your beautiful cock."

The couch itself started rocking, and Denise found herself wondering if Tim, in his enthusiasm, might give more than this old couch could take. She chuckled to herself. Then she felt Tim pulling out of her, pulling away. "Mmm, Timmy, what's wrong, baby?"

"Turn around mom, I wanna fuck your ass."

Denise still lay on her back, panting, looking up at her son with his large cock bobbing in front of him. "We can do that another time, dear, now get back in my puss-"

"MOM. I SAID, I need to fuck you up the ass. We have to do it. We don't have a choice."

"Oh, c'mon, we don't have any lube for one, and--"

Denise yelped as she felt her son's hand roughly on her. He pushed her head into the couch as he roughly grabbed a thigh and turned her over. Part of her body slipped off the couch and her knees roughly hit the floor. She was kneeling on the floor, her upper body flat on the leather couch, chest and face in the wet sweat and juices. Tim wound up and smacked her meaty ass hard a few times. Denise heard a howling and knew it was only partly her. It was also the things in the basement.

Tim smacked that ass around, rubbed it, drank in the sight of his mother's large round sweaty spanked-red rump. And then he spread her big cheeks, spit on her asscrack, and guided his cock into that asshole.

They didn't say anything for some time after that. Denise felt her knees pressing into the hard floorboards, tried to keep her mouth and nose clear of the couch so she could breathe, as she arched her back and pushed her ass up, and tried to open herself up as much as possible for her son, who was pushing his cock deeper and deeper up her ass.

And Tim just straddled that ass, pushing his cock down into it, holding his mother's hips, running his hands over her sweaty back. As they continued their sodomy they picked up a rhythm, the sight of his mother's big bouncing ass driving Tim on to fuck her harder and deeper. He grabbed a handful of her hair, wrapped it around his wrist, and pulled back on it as he thrust his cock deep.

Denise grit her teeth, "Fuuuuuck, baby, you're sooo deep in my ass. Fuckin your mom's ass, you motherfucker, fuckin it deeper than any cock's been. Fuck it's burning."

Tim gasped, he couldn't take much more. He sped up, fucking his mother's ass faster, those big meaty sweaty asscheeks slapping back loudly every time he thrust in, the sound filling the room. He moved his hand to his mother's throat and squeezed it, gripping hard while shaking her head around, as he pushed in balls-deep and began to unload his sperm deep in his mother's bowels.

For a long time they lay on top of each other, collapsed, panting, Tim's cock slowly softening and retreating out of his mother's ass. He rested his forehead against her sweaty back.

Finally he raised his head up, "I'm...I'm really sorry, mom...I...I don't know what came over me."

He saw his mother raise her head too, and turn it to look back at him, and the expression on her face was more craven than any he had ever seen, with an immense white toothy grin stretching her cheeks, and her eyes wide and glittering and unmistakably reflecting the fire within.

*****

Denise was the first to stir the next morning. They had gone to sleep beside each other, with whatever they could grab pulled over their naked bodies. She lifted her head and glanced around. Dawn had come, and everything seemed different in the morning light. There were many cracks in the walls where light shone through, and the fireplace didn't seem the same - indeed, from what they had seen the previous night, it was if the house had weathered another forty years overnight.

Birds twittered and flew around between the rooms. A large black crow overlooked them in the corner of the room. Denise felt Tim's warm body beside her, his breath still soft as he dozed. She felt she should stir, but she knew it would be cold and chilly as soon as she got up, and they'd need to decide where to go from here. In a moment she made a decision.

She nimbly turned around and began to proceed down her son's body, stopping her mouth at his cock, and started to lick and suck it, tasting the tangy flavour from all of the nastiness the night before. Soon it began to grow, and then Tim stirred and she soon felt his tongue between her legs, on her pussy that was getting wetter.

*****

When they finally emerged from the house, the sun was higher in the sky, but the mist still lingered in the fields of uncut grass on the either side of the drive. Denise's hair was unbound and fell haphazardly as she walked on in her jeans but still wearing the 'Buttman' shirt from the previous night. She felt some of her son's sperm still slowly leaking out of her ass and into the seat of her jeans, and emphasized the roll of her hips for Tim, who was drowsily following behind.

They came to the car, and Tim shrugged, "I guess I'll give it a try again." Before they climbed in, they noticed a board that had been nailed up beside the entrance gate, which they had missed last night in the darkness and the storm and their haste.

It was a notice about the property being condemned, and a planned demolition date that was now many years in the past. Maybe the county had run out of money, maybe the proper forms had been misplaced. Tacked to the sign was a piece of newsprint sheathed in a plastic bag, possibly put there by someone trying to drum up local tourism of the macabre. The paper had gotten very wet and many of the letters had run, but what they could make out, as well as the accompanying photograph of authorities pulling out body bags from the house they had just spent the night in, made Tim and his mother shudder and want to get going as soon as possible.

They climbed in and Tim tried to start the car, and the engine complained and struggled, but did finally burst into life. "Well, what do you know," he said. In the moment before they pulled out, something shadowy and multi-limbed emerged from the tall grasses, and crawled, skittered, slithered to the car and under it, to catch a ride along with them.

THE END