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The Haunting of Palmer Mansion #16
🕑 Added 2025-10-20 09:16:22 +0000 UTCExtra!
“Oh, gosh, Danny. You’re … eating and drinking meeeeeeee.” An orgasm rapidly approached. How had she lived her whole life without asking anyone to go down on her? How would she live the rest of her life once her family went back to normal? Would George do this for her? “You’re going to … make me … explode.” Julie’s whole body trembled and she gripped the sheets tightly with fists on either side of her hips. If his tongue felt this good inside her and on her lips, what would it be like if and when he found her clit? Julie couldn’t fathom it.
***
George turned his head to see a man in a top hat riding a midnight black horse up the long road. The man pulled the reins and stopped next to George. The horse and the man were quite large. So much so that George had to look up to see the man’s pallid face. George’s gaze hung on the dark drooping mustache and then moved up to his eyes. George had never seen eyes so devoid of light.
“You’re a fool, Mr. Anderson.” The man’s voice was slow and gruff. He brushed at the lapel of his long, velvet jacket.
“Why?” George wanted to ride away from the man, but he didn’t know how to make his horse move.
“You countenance the buck’s face.” He leaned forward and offered a grim smile.
“What?” George gulped and felt his throat constrict.
“Horns.” The man shook his head and his smile drooped along with his mustache. “They saddle you with horns. They do it right under your nose.”
“Who?” George wasn’t usually a monosyllabic kind of person, but this man brought it out in him.
“Who am I?” The man reached up and briefly tipped his top hat at George. “Mr. Frederick Palmer at your service.” His smile did not return. “Heed me. Or become the gelding.” Frederick’s eyes absorbed more and more light as darkness fell around them.
Soon, shadows spread across the prairie. George kicked his horse but it wouldn’t budge. Frederick leaned toward him with malevolence written all over his stony face. George screamed and the dark moved upon him. There was nothing but black.
***
“No.” George sat up in bed with real fear in his heart. Cool morning sunlight fell in through his bedroom window. He put out his hand and felt his wife’s reassuring warmth next to him. Just a dream. Well, not a dream really. More of a nightmare. Maybe there was something to Julie’s fears about this house. George decided to be more supportive of his wife.
***
When Penelope woke, she expected to find herself on the cold hallway floor. But instead, she was snug in the guest bed next to Brad. She peeked out from under the covers and could see their bedroom door firmly shut.
What a strange dream. Like in all dreams, things that made sense in the dead of night now seemed absurd. Julie kissing her own son? That was crazy. And a naked, pregnant lady roaming the halls talking about deals? That was bonkers. Penelope sighed and stretched.
There was one thing she couldn’t quite figure out. Given that she’d dreamed about upsetting, perverted, and morally reprehensible things, why was her pussy so wet? As she fell back asleep, she pondered that fact. No answers came to her.
