My House Is Haunted By This Haunted House And He Pounds My Butt

After moving halfway across the country to a house he’s never seen, Kenny has his work cut out for him. He’s been tasked with fixing the place up before his family arrives, but there’s more than just a few broken windows and creaking boards that need work. This place has a bad vibe, a haunted vibe.

Moans in the night are commonplace in this mysterious abode, but when Kenny tracks down the source he finds himself utterly terrified… and a little turned on. It appears Kenny’s house is haunted by a sentient haunted house, with some erotic unfinished business.

This erotic tale is 4,100 words of sizzling human on gay undead structure action, including anal, blowjobs, rough sex, and sentient haunted house love.

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MY HOUSE IS HAUNTED BY THIS HAUNTED HOUSE AND HE POUNDS MY BUTT

By Chuck Tingle

I knew I’d have my work cut out for me this month, but as I gaze up at this old, dilapidated structure, I find myself utterly overwhelmed by the daunting task ahead. The mood festering within me is not panic, but a sort of creeping dread. Technically speaking, I’ll be able to get this all done, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to like it, and any additional free time is out of the question.

I put my car in park and climb out onto the curb, gazing up at my family’s brand new home. On some future date this will be a place teeming with glorious memories of celebration and fun, a place where birthdays have come and gone and new pets have frolicked through the front yard.

Right now, however, this house represents anything but.

The structure is sound enough, a large Victorian mansion with plenty of strange, spiraling towers and looming windows. Once it’s cleaned up a bit, this house will have a truly spectacular look, a little slice of history to call our own, but in the meantime there’s plenty of work to be done.

The dark paint that once covered this building has long since peeled away, offering more exposed wood than not, and the shingles are only covering sparse patches of roof. A few of the windows have been smashed out, leaving nothing by ragged, gaping maws, and the yard has transformed into a strange, wild kingdom of tall grass and gnarled, tangled weeds.

I make a mental note to take care of the windows first, realizing that my nights are bound to be cold if I don’t keep things reasonably insulated. Fortunately, I’ve already got a few panes of glass scheduled for delivery this afternoon.

Moving halfway across the country to live in a fixer-upper that you’ve never seen in person is a hell of a big swing, and I’m determined to make it pay off. If not for me, then for my family, who will follow behind once I get things set up here.

Until then, I’ll be on my own, putting in the hours.

Instead of unloading the truck I decide to take a closer look around, curious how the inside of this building has fared over the decades. The photos were decent, but I’m beginning to realize this place is a little more photogenic than you might expect, and the reality is pretty harsh.

I approach the front gate, opening this rusty iron partition with a loud, groaning creek. The second I cross the threshold of the property line I can feel a powerful gust of cold air wash over me, a sign that reality has altered in some way. Everything on this land seems to be vibrating at a different frequency, which I know is not possible, but I feel it regardless.

I better get these weird vibes out of my system now, I suddenly realize. I want my family to fall in love with this house, and the sooner I can get over any spookiness, the better.

So what if this place is old? It’s nothing a little elbow grease won’t fix.

I continue up the front walk, making my way through this forest of weeds and then carefully climbing the rickety steps.

Movement on the left suddenly catches my eye, drawing my attention to a nearby window. By the time my gaze has caught up with this blur its already gone, prompting me to wonder if anything was really there in the first place. All I see now is dusty glass and some hanging curtains beyond, but as my focus remains on the fabric I notice it sways ever so slightly, as though someone brushed gently against it.

I pull out my keys and unlock the front door, opening wide and letting the outside light finally wash across this empty old living room.

“Hello?” I call out, not quite sure what I expect in return.

I step into the house, sensing yet another rush of cold air as it dances across my skin.

I begin to wandering through the structure, making my way across the living room and into the nearby kitchen. I’m struggling to relax, reminding myself that the movement from before was nothing more than a figment of my imagination. This is easier said than done.

I push even deeper into the building, finding myself in a long hallway, but before I get the chance to go any farther something stops me in my tracks. A faint sound tickles its way across my ears, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end.

I listen closely, struggling to make out this noise as it comes drifting through the air once again. It sounds like a long, aching moan, a ghostly voice from beyond carrying out through these old walls.

I take a few steps down the hallway, creeping towards the room from which this strange groaning emanates. By now, these guttural noises have transformed into coherent words.

“Oh fuck yeah,” the voice sighs. “Fuuuuuuck.”

This tone is quite a bit different than the ghostly encounters I’ve seen in movies, but the supernatural essence of these cries is undeniable.

It’s coming from behind a door at the end of the hall. I step a bit closer, carefully reaching out for the doorknob. I wrap my hand around it just as another long groan comes drifting across my ears, this one even louder than the first. My heart is slamming hard within my chest, the tension ramped up in a wholly unexpected way.

Finally, I crank the handle and throw open the door before me, bracing myself for whatever uncanny sight is waiting to be revealed on the other side.

But no reveal comes. The door opens wide and to my amazement this room is completely empty, a vacant space covered in nothing but dust. The floor is starting to rot and the wallpaper is peeling away, but other than that, not much is notable. The only real surprise is the fact there’s nobody in here moaning away.

I listen closely, struggling to catch this bizarre sound once again, but nothing comes. Maybe it was just the house settling, which wouldn’t be much of a surprise in a place as dilapidated as this.

I stand a moment longer, then carefully shut the door. I don’t have time to hunt around for the source of every strange noise that comes echoing through these halls. I’ve got work to do.

I wake with a start, sitting upright in bed as my breath catches in my throat. The room around me is pitch black, a vast empty void upon which I can easily project my darkest fears.

Fortunately, for as much work as this house needs, the power is still up and running. I immediately roll over and swing my hand through the empty space before me, waiting until a few fingers stumble upon their target. From there, I can fumble my way over the lamp shade and down to the lamp below, eventually gripping the switch and flipping it on in an eruption of light.

I’m in the upstairs bedroom, and while there’s no bedside clock just yet, the hanging moon and pitch dark sky is enough to assume I’ve been woken in the dead of night.

The house is silent now, but my abrupt pull from this deep slumber is a sign something was here. I listen intently, and moments later a chill surges through me as a ghostly moan echoes through the night.

“Oh fuck yeah,” the voice bellows, sighing loudly.

The fear that bubbles up inside of me is undeniable, but pushing past it is the only option I’ve got. I’m not about to just go back to sleep. If this voice is an intruder then I’ll have to scare them away, and if it’s something else…

I don’t allow myself to finish this thought, not wanting to address what that something else could possibly be. I’m not one to believe in ghosts or haunted houses, but there’s no denying just how spooky and otherworldly this moaning is. I’d already been terrified in the warm light of day, but now I’m utterly beside myself with fear.

Still, I somehow muster the courage and climb out of bed. I creep my way through the room and crack open my door, trying to be as quiet as possible despite the fixtures and features of this creepy old structure.

“Oh, that’s so good, that’s so good,” comes the moaning voice, these evocative words drifting up from the living room below.

I head down the hall, arriving at the top of the stairs and peeking around the corner. From here I can see down into the large room below, and when my eyes discover the phantasmal figure I gasp aloud, doing everything I can to keep from crying out in alarm.

There’s an intruder alright, but their invading more than just my home—this presence isn’t even from the corporeal realm. Standing in the middle of the living room is a small haunted house, the figure glowing with light blue energy and hovering just a few feet off the ground. Their body is semi-translucent and spectral, but I can’t make out their face because they’re turned away from me.

It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and in this moment something unexpected happens. The fear within me melts away, taking a backseat to the feelings of utter fascination that bloom at the pit of my stomach. If I’m not dreaming, and this is an otherworldly being, that would completely change my outlook on existence itself.

I slowly tiptoe down the stairs, careful not to disturb the figure. This phantasmal visitor is shaking a little, his body convulsing in slight, rapid movements, and it appears his attention is elsewhere as I move even closer.

“Oh yeah, oh fuck yeah,” the sentient haunted house sighs.

I reach out with a single hand. My arm drifts closer and closer, aiming to tap the ghost on his shoulder. The feet turn to inches, then centimeters, and then finally I make my move. I tap him on the shoulder.

The spirit whips around in surprise, locking eyes with me and letting out a startled yelp as he stumbles back in fear. I can see now that the living haunted house has his cock in his hand, furiously beating himself off and struggling to cover up.

“Oh my God!” I cry. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize!”

“What the fuck!” the haunted house shouts in return. He’s scrambling for the nearby couch, a ratty old thing that was left here when the previous occupants vacated all those years ago. It’s probably not much to sit on, but it serves the ghost as a nice modesty barrier to hide behind.

“I didn’t realize you were jerking off,” I implore him. “I really didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Who the hell are you?” the haunted house demands to know.

“I’m the new owner,” I tell him, then suddenly realize the awkward position I’ve been placed in. I’m not the one who should be answering this question. “And who the hell are you?”

The ghost hesitates, his expression faltering as his dick wilts and slips back into his haunted house body. “I’m… I’m Frank,” he says, “and I should be the one who’s apologizing.”

“Well, yeah,” I blurt. “You’re masturbating in my living room.”

The ghost gets awkward for a moment. “That’s the thing,” he starts. “I hate to tell you this, but it’s actuallyour living room.”

I shake my head. “Oh no, no, no. I bought this house fair and square. I’m here to get it fixed up before my family arrives.”

“Sometimes the money doesn’t matter,” Frank replies solemnly. “Listen, I’d get out of your hair if I could, but I’m afraid I’m stuck here. I’m a ghost.”
 “I real ghost?” I clarify.

Frank nods.

I take a moment to appreciate this incredible reveal, struggling to quantify this enormous change in the structure of my worldview.

Turns out, ghosts are real.

“I’m Kenny,” I inform him, extending a hand.

The phantom gives me a firm shake.

“Oh!” I blurt. “So you can touch things.”

“If I want to,” Frank explains. “There’s a lot of rules. To be honest, existing like this is pretty abstract and confusing. Sometimes I’ll show up at some random part of the house wondering how I got there, other times it’ll feel like only two minutes have passed and then I find out it’s been a whole year. Ghost life, you know?”
 “Ghost death,” I correct him.

“Sure,” the sentient haunted house replies with a nod.

“So why can’t you leave?” I continue.

“The same thing that always tethers ghosts to this world,” he replies. “Unfinished business.”
 Finally, we’re getting somewhere.

“Well great,” I start. “I’ll just help you take care of your unfinished business and then you can head on out. Don’t get me wrong, you seem nice enough, but by the time everyone gets here this house needs to be in working order. You can’t be loudly jerking off in the living room in the middle of the night.”

“Easier said than done,” the sentient building replies. “This haunted house has been haunting this house for a long time. Nothing seems to do the trick.”

“What’s your unfinished business?” I question.

Frank just stares at me. He’s waiting for me to understand, but I still don’t get it.

“I’ve had blue balls for decades,” he finally blurts. “I had a heart attack while masturbating, and I never got to cum. Now I’m cursed to a life of endless ascension, but no climax of my own.”

“Oh!” I reply, my eyes widening a bit before faltering. “Wait, buildings can have heart attacks?”

“Why couldn’t they?” he questions.

“I don’t know, I just… never mind,” I continue, pushing past this point of contention.

“Either way, I’m stuck here,” Frank states, utterly defeated.

I feel terrible for this lost soul. He’s not trying to bother anyone, he just ended up in a particularly awkward circumstance.

But sympathy is not the only emotion that swirls within. Now that I can see his face up close, I’m shocked by just how handsome the sentient undead house living inside another house really is. He’s dark and brooding, as you might expect from a haunted building, but deep down there’s also a boyish charm and an undying hope. After all this time, he’s still trying to get himself off.

A hot flush of nervous apprehension pulses through my veins, knowing exactly what I want to say but not entirely sure I can force the words from my throat. I take a deep breath, centering myself, then go for it.

“Has anyone else ever tried to help you?” I ask.

The haunted house just shakes his head. “They’re too scared.”

“I’m not scared to help you get off,” I tell him, giving my statement as much erotic weight as I can possibly manage.

It takes Frank a moment to register what I’ve just said, but the second he does he freeze in place. “What do you mean, help me get off?” he finally questions.

“Exactly what I said,” I coo with breathtaking directness.

Frank smiles mischievously. “It’s been a solo effort so far,” he explains. “But if we need to get this place in working order, then it’s worth a shot.”

Suddenly, the tension between us breaks. The sentient undead haunted house and me come together in a moment of unbridled passion, frantically kissing one another as we lose ourselves in the moment.

I immediately begin to explore his incredible architecture with my hands, making my way across every wall and window with delicate interest. His construction is old, but as I continue learning each nook and cranny I slowly begin to realize just how sturdy he really is. Impressed, I push even harder, testing the limits as Frank groans with satisfaction.

Meanwhile, the sentient haunted house living inside my haunted house explores me in turn, stripping away my clothing and exposing me to the night air. The erotic anticipation builds with every layer that’s tossed to the side, and it’s not long before I find myself completely naked before him.

By now, Frank’s ghostly cock has started its return, swelling within his front porch until it juts out towards me in all of its phantasmal glory. I can’t want to get my hands around it, but I somehow manage to hold off.

We’re on a mission here, and that’s not to be taken lightly. If I want to get Frank to cum then I’ll need to be smart about this, taking my time and creating the perfect scenario that goes well beyond his years of self-stimulation. I need to let the tension simmer a bit.

With this in mind, I work my hands strategically across his body, starting by tickling the rooftops and then drifting down across his toned form. When I reach the haunted house’s waistline I stop, hesitating before I continue any further. I can feel his hips push back against me with a subconscious yearning, eager to take things farther.

Our eyes lock, Frank begging me with nothing more than his gaze and the subtle movements of his body. Still, I hold off, waiting as long as I possibly can before finally reaching down and allowing him the sweet relief of my touch.

The sentient undead building lets out a long, satisfied sigh as I wrap my fingers around him, gripping tight and immediately getting to work with a series of slow, patient pumps. I quickly fall into a steady pace, taking my time and allowing the pressure to build as we find a rhythm together.

“Do you like the way I work that haunted house dick?” I whisper in his ear.

Frank nods. “Fuck yeah.”

By now we’ve fallen into a steady pace, my hand pumping up and down his shaft with confidence. I can tell he’s enjoying himself, but before we get much further I release him and drop to my knees.

I gaze up at the ghostly building with an expression of carnal hunger, completely lost in the moment as I drag my tongue across the length of his swollen rod. When I reach the end I give the head of his shaft a playful kiss, then open wide to consume him.

I begin to bob up and down across Frank’s length, diligently servicing the living undead domicile. With one hand I reach up and cradle his balls, only adding to the sensation as I work him. Like the hand the came before, my mouth starts slowly at first, pumping with a steady rhythm and then gaining speed as Frank reacts to the pleasure.

Eventually, however, speeding up is no longer possible. I pull back with a gasp, wiping the spit from my lips and taking a moment to center myself. The size of the haunted house’s cock is formidable, that’s for sure, but I’m confident in my oral skills as I open wide and take him again.

This time I don’t bob, just push my head deeper and deeper onto his shaft. I can feel Frank’s member pressing the limits of my gag reflex, but I somehow manage to relax and take him even farther into my gullet. Soon enough, I’ve completely swallowed his cock, my face pressed up tight against the wall of this phantom building. I stay here for as long as I can possibly manage, allowing Frank a moment to savor his position.

When I finally come up for air and release his cock there’s a fire in my eyes. I turn quickly on the floor, falling forward in the doggystyle position and popping my ass out towards the handsome haunted house. I crawl away from him, swaying my hips and then reaching back to give myself a loud smack on the ass.

“You’ve been waiting all these years to blow that haunted house ghost load,” I coo over my shoulder. “Now it’s time to come and get it.”

Frank doesn’t need to be told twice. The handsome building floats down into position behind me, aligning his cock with my backdoor. I can feel him pushing against my anal seal, then moments later he enters with a single, powerful swoop.

“Oh fuck!” I blurt, bracing myself against the wood floor below.

The sentient haunted house’s cock is enormous, and while I’d done my best to prepare for his incredible size, it appears my mental fortitude was not quite enough. I can feel myself getting stretched to the absolute limits, which immediately causes my body to tighten up.

Fortunately, for all the waiting Frank has already done, he’s still a patient lover. The undead building holds deep within me, refusing to move until my body can adjust to his girthy rod. The two of us stay like this for what seems like forever, the discomfort within me slowly melting away and transforming into a pleasant warmth.

Eventually, I start pushing back against him, rocking my hips ever so slightly as the two of us find a pulse together. We read each other’s bodies as this dance escalates, slowly falling into a steady rhythm. It’s not long before the warmth at the pit of my stomach begins to make its way into other parts of my body, drifting down my arms and legs and filling me up.

I begin to tremble slightly, my body struggling to keep up with all these incredible sensations within. I reach down between my legs and grab ahold of my hanging cock, beating myself off to the pace of the haunted house’s slams against my backside.

It’s not long before the two of us are pounding against one another with frantic enthusiasm, allowing the erotic energy to overtake us.

“That feels so fucking good, that feels so fucking good,” I start to repeat, mumbling the words under my breath and growing louder with every passing round. Eventually I’m screaming them out at the top of my lungs, filling the night air with my own haunting cry. “That feels so fucking good!”

Suddenly, my words transform into a singular, guttural scream, my body no longer capable of holding back this onslaught of orgasmic pleasure. The sensation hits me all at once, a tidal wave that sweeps me off my feet and carries me tumbling into the arms of orgasm. I throw back my head as this blissed out tone escapes my throat, every muscle within me clenching and releasing in mighty patterns.

Hot white jizz erupts from the head of my cock, splattering out across the floor below in milky patterns.

All the while, Frank carries me through this glorious eruptions of sensation, but the second I’ve finished he pushes deep within my ass and lets out a ferocious, blood-curdling howl.

I can feel the sentient haunted house blast into me, filling me with all that pent up spunk. It comes in surge after mighty surge, eventually packing me to the brim and then squirting forth from the edges of my ass. His orgasm lasts for what seems like forever, an endless parade of magnificent climax, but at long last he falls back and lets the cum spill out of me.

The two of us collapse to the floor, utterly exhausted and struggling to center ourselves.

“That was incredible,” I gush.

There’s no response.

I hesitate a moment, then sit up, scanning the room to find that my house is completely empty. Frank has disappeared, as though he was never here at all.

I wake feeling nice and rested, ready to start another day of renovations. Sun streams in through the nearby window, illuminating my new bedroom with a warm, golden glow.

The events of last night still linger in my mind, but they’re hazy and strange. Now bathed in the light of day, the whole encounter seems ridiculous, like some kind of strange dream.

Which is exactly what it was, right?

I throw off the blankets and climb to my feet, stumbling into the bathroom and starting the shower, expecting a rumble from the faucets as the sputter and struggle to life, but getting nothing but a fresh, clean spout of warm liquid in return. There’s still a lot of work to do around here, but somehow the dreadful vibes of this place have melted way. Things actually seem like they’re coming together.

I step into the shower, shaking my head and laughing to myself.

“What a bizarre dream,” I sigh.

It’s only now that I feel a tickle in the depths of my ass. I reach back, feeling something slip through my fingers as a fine, glowing mist drifts through the air—ghostly haunted house cum.

A gasp catches in my throat as a haunting cry fills the air, distant and ethereal. “I blew my loooooooaaad.”

From that day on, the ghostly presence was never seen or heard from again.