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  #61  
Old 14-09-2021, 12:11 PM
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Re: Haunting Sex Story

Chapter Fifteen

Following their plan, Robert visited Ramona at the bank again two days later and asked her out to dinner again, this time as his treat. They laughed when Robert described how he had tried to make a reservation at "Mom's Diner" which, he had been assured by the men working on his house, was the best place in town to eat. Frances Dilley, otherwise known as "Mom" and owner of Mom's Diner, had laughed out loud. "You're not from around here, are you?" he mimicked Frances saying.

The morning after their dinner date, Ramona held her co-workers spellbound by her description of what had happened.

"We got there and there were no cars in the parking lot. I was afraid there had been a mistake and the place was closed!" Ramona told them. "Then the door opened and Mrs. Dilley came out and took us in. He rented the whole diner for the night!" Ramona didn't have to pretend to be flattered. Robert hadn't told her he was going to do that. Robert had admitted that he asked "Mom" how much she made on the average Friday night and then offered her five times that amount to serve just the two of them. "There were four men in there with violins and guitars and I don't know what all, and Mrs. Dilley served us herself. It was just amazing!"

"How romantic" sighed Agnes Green.

"Did he kiss you?" asked Renee.

"Renee! I'm shocked you'd even ask that," said Ramona, trying not to giggle. "I will tell you this, though. I like him. We have fun together. He tells the most amazing stories."

Three days later the mood at the bank was almost the opposite. Renee brought in a newspaper that had a picture of Robert with another woman. The headline was, "Local millionaire samples night life," and there was a story about how Robert had come back from what the paper called his world travels, and was renovating his ancestral home in the town of Nettleton, which was, in fact, named for his family. The woman with him was identified as Lucinda Johnson, daughter of Magnus Johnson, who owned and operated the Johnson Furniture Emporium. The couple were attending a benefit fund raiser for a local orphanage, but she wore a slinky dress, and was covered with jewels and looked very much the part of a rich man's escort.

"That dirty dog is running around behind your back Ramona," snarled Renee, throwing the paper down on Ramona's desk.

Ramona was well aware that Robert was going to "take out" other women as part of his role playing, but seeing the smiling buxom woman on his arm still caused her gut to clench. It showed and Renee became a commiserator instantly.

"Don't you worry about it baby," she said to Ramona. "There are other fish in the sea. If he comes in here again I'll throw him out myself!"

Ramona smiled. "Renee, he's a grown man and he can date whomever he wants. I like him, but I don't own him. And don't you dare throw him out either. I may not be exotic and beautiful like her," she slapped the paper, "but I'm the better pick and I think he's smart enough to see that."



Renee agreed vociferously. "You're right. You're better than that blond bimbo any day, and if he's not smart enough to see that then he doesn't deserve you!"

That night Ramona reported the conversation to Robert, who identified the woman in the picture as the daughter of a man who had approached him to do business with. Robert, having problems finding "women to forward our plan" had agreed to escort the man's daughter to the benefit. Robert laughed about how the man tried to use his own daughter to seal a deal that Robert had no intention of entering into.



When Robert came into the bank the next day, he waved nonchalantly to Ramona, and went to a teller cage to do some business of some sort. Then he went and stuck his head into Frank's office, glad-handing like a politician. It was then that he went to Renee's desk and tried unsuccessfully to make small talk with her. Renee was frosty, and kept her eyes on her work most of the time.

Finally Robert sauntered over to Ramona's desk.

"And how is my favorite financial Wizard doing today?" he asked, loudly enough for several people, including Renee, to hear. Renee rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner at Ramona.

"Why I'm fine, Robert ... may I call you Robert?" she said sweetly.

"I would be devastated if you did not," he said smiling. "And when will you grace me with your company again, if I may be so bold?" he asked formally.

The newspaper Renee had given her was lying on her desk, where she had left it intentionally. "Why Robert, it appears that you have plenty of company. When would you ever be able to fit me in?" She let her fingers drift over the paper.

Robert laughed. "Ramona, let there be no mistake. I would rather spend one evening with you than ten with women like that," he said. "You are interesting, and beautiful and you laugh at my horrible jokes. I have tomorrow night open ... and the night after that ... and the next night too. Please, have pity on me," he pleaded.

"You're a charmer, I'll give you that," sighed Ramona. She had the urge to giggle so much that she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop it. "All right. I haven't been roller skating in years. Do you roller skate Robert?"

Robert looked stricken. "I will learn!" he said. "Surely such a thing cannot be so difficult. I understand that hundreds of people do it."

The date was made and Robert left, shaking hands with everyone he could reach.

Renee was at her desk before the outside door closed. "Are you really going to take him skating?" she asked.

"Sure" said Ramona. "Why not? He's just a man. Why don't you and Ted come along too?"

"I might just do that," said Renee. "I'll suggest that if he isn't a little nicer to me I might feel inclined to get to know the very wealthy Mr. Robert Nettleton a little better. It doesn't hurt a bit that he's cute too." She giggled as Ramona chided her for being mercenary.

In fact, by the time Robert escorted Ramona into the "Skate Inn", there was a sudden resurgence of interest in roller skating by a surprising number of adults, most of whom worked at the bank, or were married to someone who worked at the bank.

It was a riot. Robert had never had skates on in his life, while Ramona had gone skating with Richard quite often, and was really quite good. She unfailingly picked Robert up off the floor each time he crashed down, and steadied him as he rolled along uncertainly. Her co-workers helped pull him up too. By the end of the evening he was able to stay up most of the time as she pulled him, hand in hand, around in circles. Everybody went out for drinks at Duffy's Tavern when it was all done. Robert didn't act at all stuffy. He also made sure he told some very horrible jokes.

From there it was just a matter of making sure that people knew Robert took Ramona out more than he took any other woman out. Then their plan moved to the phase where he took only Ramona out.

No one, at least who lived in Nettleton, was surprised when, three months later, Robert Nettleton proposed marriage to Ramona Franklin.

Ramona's wanted Renee to be her maid of honor, with Debbie as the only other bridesmaid. That decision was relatively easy. In thinking about Robby, however, Ramona's feelings were much more conflicted. That was the result of reflection on the persistent feelings she had developed for her son, and her discussion about that with Robert. Her un-motherly attraction to him, in a way, made her feel like she was closer to him than any man other than Robert himself. In that sense, she felt like that, when she married Robert, she would distance herself from something very special by "leaving" Robby. In a philosophical moment she decided that it was appropriate, in a very private way, for Robby to give her away.



With that in mind, she talked with her children about those roles and said she wanted to spend an evening with each of them, alone, to just talk about things and settle in everyone's mind what their expectations were for life in the near and not-so-near future. What they were doing was a big decision, and their lives would change considerably because of it. Ramona didn't want to lose anything she had with her family as they gained other things.

Her night with Debbie was scheduled first. Robby spent the night with Mike, who wanted an update on what was happening with the Nettleton mansion and the crazy hermit they had all seen together, and that left the house to his mother and sister.

Ramona and Debbie talked about a lot of things, but two of them were probably more important than the others.

"I need to know how you feel about the money," Ramona said, as she ate spoonfuls of ice cream out of her quart of Rocky Road, while Debbie did her best to destroy a quart of Butter Brickle.

"Well, we've never really had a lot of money," said Debbie. "I don't know what it will be like."

"Do you think you'll just be able to buy whatever you want?" asked her mother.

"That would be nice," said Debbie. "But I've seen some of the rich kids at school, and they seem ... empty somehow. At least sometimes. It's hard to explain."

"It's important to me that you stay who you are," said Ramona. "I don't want money to become too important to you."

"I think if we talk about that, it will be okay," said Debbie. "Even though I argue with you sometimes I think you're pretty smart for an adult," said Debbie smiling. "You usually give me pretty good advice."

"Okay, we'll agree to talk things out then," said Ramona. "Now, what about Robby?" she asked. "I have some advice for you about that."

Debbie shifted uncomfortably in the overstuffed armchair she was currently occupying. "I love him mother," she said.

"I know that, and I understand that. But what you two are doing has real consequences," said Ramona patiently. "Things have been so crazy that we haven't taken care of protection yet. And I suspect you two haven't decided to stop for a while until that gets done."

Debbie had the grace to blush, but didn't confirm her mother's suspicions.

Ramona bored on. "What, for instance, are you going to do if he makes you pregnant?"

Debbie was silent for what seemed like a long time. "I have mixed feelings about that," she finally said. "Part of me is horrified at the thought of being pregnant at all. I mean that would change so many things. But part of me thinks that having Robby's baby in me would be the neatest thing in the whole world. I love him so much it hurts sometimes."

"That's one of the things the money changes," said Ramona. "What I mean is that there won't be any financial burden on you. In theory you can have all the babies you want to. We can hire a live-in nanny to help you take care of them. That part is easy. But having children changes your life radically because then they are the most important thing and you have to sacrifice some of the other things you might want to do."

"Like what?" asked Debbie. Talking with her mother about this was something she hadn't thought she could do, but she found, to her surprise that it was not only easy, but immensely relieving too.

"Like meeting another man you like, and already having children that he may not feel drawn to because they aren't his," said Ramona. "Like not being able to go to college because you have a family to take care of." Ramona thought some more. "Like being in a relationship with a man who you can't kiss in public, or acknowledge as the father of your children. Like being thought of as a slut because you have children out of wedlock. You'd be living a secret life, and that's not easy," she finished.

"Good points" admitted Debbie. "But I'll argue with you about some of them." She took another bite of ice cream. "For one thing, I love Robby so much that I'd marry him if I could ... like you and Uncle Bob. So I'm not sure that I'll be interested in other men." She took another bite. "And, if I don't have to work, and have help ... because of the money ... then I think I could manage going to college, whether I have children or not." She frowned. "I agree that it would be very hard to love Robby in secret. I do that now, and it's not too hard right now, but you're probably right about that not being the most satisfying kind of life. And I don't care what people think about whether I'm a slut or not. Once the famous Robert Nettleton becomes my step-father I'm sure people will treat me differently anyway. I think there will be enough advantages to our lives that they will outweigh that."

"You're right about people treating you differently. It's important that you just be who you are and act that way when you can. Your friends might be put off in the beginning, but if you keep on being just plain Debbie then they'll come around sooner or later. And if they don't, they they really aren't your friends."

Debbie cocked her head. "Hey, I have a question for you."

"Go ahead," said Ramona, still processing the other things Debbie had said.

"What about your money? I mean I know how you feel about it, but couldn't it be used to do a lot of good things?"

"What kind of good things?" asked Ramona carefully.

"Well, I don't know ... things like helping people? I mean there are all kinds of problems in the world with education and racism and hunger and stuff like that. I think it would be kind of cool if we could help with some of that kind of thing."

Ramona felt a measure of shock. It was a combination of not having thought of that herself, which caused her pangs of guilt, but it was also surprise that her daughter, on the verge of becoming very wealthy, would be so unselfish.

"I think that's a very noble idea," she said. "I think that's something we should have a lot more talks about."

"Me too," said Debbie.

Then they talked about dresses and wedding arrangements and other things that mothers and daughters talk about when life is good.

Ramona's night with her son was almost completely different. She intended to come to grips with their feelings for each other, and put them to bed ... so to speak.

Those feelings were put to bed. But not in the way Ramona had intended.

She started by explaining why she wanted him to give her away. She had no idea whether he would grasp the philosophical reasoning for that, and was actually surprised when he nodded.

"I get it," he said. "I feel kind of the same way. Knowing that you're getting married, and I don't think it would matter who you were getting married to either, I feel kind of like I'm losing you somehow."

"You'll always be my little boy," she said, chewing. Tonight there was no ice cream. Instead, she had baked hot rolls, because she knew he loved them, and would eat a whole pan of them if allowed to. They sat, tearing little pieces of the rolls off and eating them. The rolls were so good that the butter and strawberry jam she'd put out weren't touched by either one of them.

"I know that," he smiled. "But this new feeling ... it's something I haven't even figured out yet. I mean I know I'm not supposed to feel stuff like that for my own mother ... but I do. And now you're getting married and I'm happy for you. I think you should do it. But I think I'm a little jealous too. Doesn't that sound stupid?"

Ramona shook her head. "No, it's not stupid. Not to me." She sat, her feet tucked under her and stared at her son. "It makes me tingle when you say you're jealous."

Robby looked back. "You know how sometimes you want something really bad, and it's all you can think about? You save your money and you dream about going to buy it, and what it will be like when you have it and all that."

Ramona nodded.

TBC
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  #62  
Old 14-09-2021, 12:27 PM
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Re: Haunting Sex Story

Robby nodded with her. "It's like that with you. I'll be in bed, and I think about ... things. Or in the shower. It happens there a lot too. It happened with Debbie that way sort of, except that we did things for a long time and it just went farther and farther."

Ramona felt tingles in her belly. "But sometimes, darling, when you get what you wanted so much, it turns out not to be what you thought it would be after all. Sometimes you get disappointed, or just lose interest."

Robby blinked. "Yeah, that's true, if you're talking about a pair of shoes or something. But that's not what we're talking about here," he said. "I mean I know that fantasy isn't like reality, but I can't keep the fantasies out of my head. And I'll never know the reality, so I doubt if I'll ever be able to really let go ... like you're talking about."

Ramona's own feelings were remarkably similar. She had fleeting fantasies. Her memory of his smooth chest pressed against her bare breasts fueled those fantasies.

"What if you did experience the reality?" she asked suddenly. "Do you think then that the fantasies would go away and leave you alone?"




"Mom, don't tease me," he said.

"I'm not teasing Robby. I don't want this to make a wedge between us. I want you to feel free and at home, and welcome in our new family. I want to be able to look at you and hug you and not be afraid that I'm causing you pain."



Something in Robby tore loose. He didn't snap, exactly, but he felt a release inside him that allowed him to do something that he never would have contemplated doing before this very moment. He stood up and pushed his shorts down, exposing the erection he'd gotten just talking about fantasies.

"You don't cause me pain," he said. "You cause this."

Ramona felt her pussy squirt. "I don't want to come between you and Debbie," she said. "And I don't want you to come between Robert and me."

Robby stood there. "I love you both. I'll always love you both, even if we never do anything. Even if Debbie gets married some day, I'll always love you both."

Ramona stood, putting her hot roll on the table beside the chair. "You can't give me away if you've never ... had me," she said. she was breathing deeply now. Her clothing felt suddenly very confining.

Robby responded, not like a son, used to being subservient to his mother's control, but as a man, establishing his control over a woman. It wasn't a harsh control, or one meant to dominate or dehumanize her. But he didn't wait for instructions, or permission, or assent. He kicked off his shorts and pulled his shirt over his head. Then, naked, he went to his mother and began undressing her as she stood, her eyes closed, trying to decide whether to help him, or try and stop him. She kept her eyes closed as he made her naked. It wasn't until she felt his lips on one of her stiff, standing nipples that her eyes popped open and she felt weak.

He took her there, in the living room, on the couch. He placed her on the couch, lying down, one foot on the floor and the other held up by her ankle, opening her obscenely to his hot-eyed gaze. His prick dripped with his excitement.



First, though, he tasted her, driving his tongue deep between her swollen pussy lips, and sucking her taste, along with the nubbin that was her clit. Her feelings shocked her with their intensity, and she found her fingers squeezing her nipples as he tended to her pussy. Suddenly she was impatient and pulled at his hair.



No words were needed as he raised his wet face to look into his mother's eyes. He moved upward and let his iron hard prick bob, just above her gaping sex, pausing to savor the sight of his naked and spread mother, waiting for him to penetrate her.

Her consent came in the form of her soft hand gripping him ... aiming him ... pulling him to her.

"I saw you and Debbie in bed," she said softly. "You were being very tender with her. Be tender with me too," she moaned.

Robby slid his adolescent penis into his mother's adult pussy in one long, slow push until her hairs and his met and mingled. Both of them groaned in a mixture of satisfaction and a desire to feel that again, for the first time.



For Ramona, what she noticed most was how Robby filled her, but in a wholly different way than Robert did. It had been long enough that she had a hard time remembering how Richard felt in her, but Robby's adolescent prick just felt different in some way. His arms and back felt different too, as she stroked him, urging him to continue with little pulls and grips.



For Robby, it was less controlled mentally. The hot clasp of the pussy squeezing his cock was something that made his mother's face appear in his mind, whether his eyes were closed or not. As he had not thought of anyone but Debbie, when he was making love with her, he couldn't think of anyone but his mother while his prick was buried in her. He also felt the now familiar urge to cum, but there was also some kind of brake built in that demanded that he hear his mother have an orgasm before he spilled his seed. Part of it might have been because he was moving slowly in her, almost languidly, pausing at full entry to press hard against her pussy lips and clit.



Each time he did that ... as he pressed hard into her ... Ramona moaned, "Ohhh baby," in a voice that caused his balls to tighten a little more each time he heard it. It was a pure, sweet sound in his ears that said in a completely affirmative way that she welcomed him inside her.




They had been silent for so long ... not counting her mantra of joy ... that Ramona didn't want to spoil the mood by talking. Instead she pulled at his head and kissed him long and deep, and then pushed his head toward her aching nipples. He sucked hard, in contrast to his gentle fucking motions, and her orgasm surprised her, both with its rapid onset and the depth of the feeling as it built rapidly, increasing the pressure inside her, but not releasing it. His deeply probing rod wasn't moving quite fast enough to bring her off completely, but she waited, letting the pressure build until she almost couldn't stand it any more and writhed under him. She finally had to say something more.

"Faster now ... please?" she begged.



Robby's hips did something instinctive and, instead of going in and out faster, he went in, leaving only an inch or two outside of his writhing lover and then rabbit stroked her five or six times rapidly, bouncing off her clit and jiggling her body with the force of his penetrations.

Ramona's wail would have sounded like pain and suffering to an observer, but her tone penetrated Robby's brain and, as her pussy rippled around him, he gave up and let his seed spill violently and copiously into his mother's belly. His own groan sounded like something one would hear through the walls of a dungeon, accompanied by sounds of his laughing torturer.



They clasped each other tightly, having shared something beautiful that they didn't want to end. Ramona was almost overcome by feelings of remorse that she had allowed this to happen ... not because of who they were ... but because she knew she could never live without this happening to her again sometime. Even though she knew Robert would smile and nod if she asked permission, she hadn't planned on complicating her life this way. Another part of her brain screamed a litany of thank yous for the joy she felt from an almost perfect union with a man she loved dearly.

Robby's thought process was not as complicated, but arrived at the same conclusion.



"I'm not sure ..." he panted, "that I'm willing to ... give you away." He sagged down, his weight a welcome warmth on his mother's body.

Part of Ramona accepted what had happened and knew that, somehow, she'd deal with it.

"You have to," she panted back. "It's part of the ceremony." She hugged him and then giggled. "I had no idea, my darling. Debbie is a very lucky girl," she sighed.

"Thank you," he said.



"Oh darling, you're so very welcome," she said, stroking his back.

There was a moment of awkwardness in Robby's mind as he contemplated climbing up off his mother's naked body.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

Ramona let her fingers play with his hair. "Well, if you're not willing to give me away yet, then I suppose we'll just have to do this until you get your fill and change your mind." She giggled again.

They grabbed fistfuls of hot rolls and moved to Ramona's bed. It took them until two in the morning before Robby finally gave up. Ramona had been seated on him, riding him to his fifth spurting orgasm, when he pulled her down for the last time.

"Okay" he gasped. "I think I can stand the idea now."

"Good" said his mother, feeling his softening prick beginning to slip out of her. "I wanted you to feel that way before I told you that Robert will understand if, some day, we feel the need to do this again."

Robby looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I told him how I felt about you. He more or less gave me permission to explore those feelings," she said softly.

"Wow," said Robby, feeling much better suddenly about what they'd done for the last eight hours.

"How would you feel if Debbie felt the need to explore feelings she had towards him?" asked Ramona.

Had she asked him that in the beginning, his response might have been different. But now, thoroughly sated for once in his teenaged, hormone-driven life, the thought didn't threaten him.

"I don't think she would want to," he said. "She really hated him at first. But, even if she did I don't see how I could justify getting mad about it."

"That's a very mature and enlightened attitude," said his mother, kissing him on the tip of his nose. "I doubt, though, that Debbie's attitude would be that enlightened if she found us like this. We should spend the rest of the morning in our own beds, don't you think?"

"I could sleep 'til noon," said Robby.

Robby didn't get the chance to sleep 'til noon, though. Debbie, having spent the night at a sleepover with three of her friends, all of whom talked about boys and the things boys liked to do, came home horny. She stuck her head in her mother's bedroom and heard snoring, whereupon she went to her brother's room to get her itch scratched.



Robby, thankful that he was young and healthy, managed to scratch that itch quite well before he sent her on her way and told her not to wake him up for a week.

TBC
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Old 14-09-2021, 11:26 PM
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Re: Haunting Sex Story

Excellent share TS, please continue!
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Old 15-09-2021, 11:51 AM
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Re: Haunting Sex Story

Strangely, after their coupling, Ramona found it much easier to control her emotions regarding Robby than it had been before. She had so much to do to get ready for the wedding that she didn't examine this phenomenon in any particular detail. If she had, she would have come to the conclusion that, before she let Robby shoot his virile sperm in her unprotected pussy, she had been afraid that her feelings for him were founded on lust. During the act, however, it became clear to her that she wanted to share something precious with him ... and receive that dangerous sperm ... because she loved her son on a level that was both deep and honest.



Knowing that they loved each other, and that if she felt the need to share that with him again she could, the urgency to "deal" with the situation was gone. In one sense it had been dealt with, though Debbie's status in their new family hadn't yet been fully explored. Ramona thought about that ... about the possibility that the teasing that Debbie and Bobby engaged in might, some day, lead to something more. She found it interesting that she wasn't nearly as worried about that outcome as she was if Debbie found out about her mother and brother and didn't understand what that was really about.



Ramona decided to let nature take its own course with Debbie and her uncle. If the other issue raised its head, she'd just deal with that when it happened.

TBC
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Old 15-09-2021, 12:10 PM
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Re: Haunting Sex Story

At a family conference, Ramona and her children came to the unanimous decision that after the wedding, they would move into the Nettleton mansion. All three were surprised at how easily that decision was made. All three were further surprised when Ramona asked her children what other issues needed to be addressed and no one could come up with anything. All was moving smoothly in the Franklin household.



Debbie took it upon herself to act preemptively concerning the accommodations. The morning after that meeting, after her mother had gone to work, Debbie went to her brother's room. She was amazed now at how routine it seemed to crawl into bed with him, wake him with kisses, fondle him to full erection ... if he wasn't already that way ... and then slide her pussy down gratefully over his throbbing member. He was always groggy in the mornings, and she loved to climb up on top of him and ride him. It gave her better control over when and where her tingling clitty got rubbed, and she was able to get him deep enough that the tip of his beautiful prick prodded that special little place inside her that both hurt and felt wonderful at the same time. She could also take her time, because, if he wasn't on top of her, he couldn't go as fast as he liked to, which inevitably brought that rush of welcome wet heat spurting out of his penis sooner than she wanted it to. True, he was able, on many occasions, to either keep going, or to be able to go again quite soon, but she loved to deny herself that wonderful hot feeling, letting the pressure inside her build until she almost couldn't stand it. Then she'd squeeze his healthy young penis in just that special way that she'd learned would make it spurt almost on command, so that as she had her orgasm, he had his too.



This morning had been particularly sensational as she felt her brother's hot sperm bathing her pussy. She kissed him as he mumbled his love for her, already letting his eyes close to go back to sleep. She wanted her pussy to be full of his spunk when she went next door to look at the house where all this had started.

She dressed in jeans shorts and a halter top, not to tease anybody, but because she liked those clothes and they were comfortable. She had made the halter top in home economics, because she had to come up with a sewing project. She'd made it out of one of Robby's old dress shirts that didn't quite fit his muscular chest any more. She'd cut off the collar and sleeves and folded the shoulder material to make straps. Then, to impress her teacher, she'd tailored the cloth to fit her breasts. It almost looked like a fancy bra, except for the tails in front, which she used to tie in a knot in the front, between her breasts. It was a pale blue color that, when she first made it, concealed her pink areolas, though it allowed her nipples to define themselves, especially if they were erect under it. Her jeans shorts were cut-offs and thin and white where they cupped her buttocks.

It didn't occur to her on a conscious level that she looked like the very picture of a well-fucked, beaming, healthy young woman, with gorgeous cleavage and a firm ass. She didn't think about what the men working at the manor might think about as she walked through them ... how her flat stomach fairly screamed to those men that it needed life inside it, to make the flatness go away as a baby swelled beneath it. She never gave a thought to how, as she had to step over obstructions on the lawn, where materials were strewn about, that her breasts would bob invitingly as all eyes watched her walk across the yard to the front door of the mansion. Had she heard the groans of the men, or seen them shift their stiffening cocks in their pants as she walked by, she might have considered dressing less provocatively.



But Debbie's mind was awhirl with the anticipation of seeing how the inside of the house had changed ... of walking its halls again, this time as the mistress of the manor. "Well, one of the mistresses, anyway" she thought as she stepped on top of a pile of long lumber and jumped down on the other side, making her tender young breasts bounce once and come to a quivering equilibrium inside the thin cloth of her halter top.



Two men were working together nearby and Debbie heard one of them mumble to the other ... something like "Oh man, and it's only nine thirty. I gotta go home for lunch and see Christy." The other man laughed and replied "See Christy? I never heard it called seeing before." He laughed again.

Debbie glanced at them, wondering what they found so funny about lunch. Then she ran up the stairs to the front door, oblivious of the groans behind her.



She peered around, shocked and delighted to see that everything looked so bright and colorful and ... alive. She reached out to touch the paneling, which glowed with a soft light. It was bright and she could see the grain and tones in it now. Before it had been gray and dull. The wall paper and new drapes were so colorful she thought she was in a different place. She wandered into the kitchen and gasped at the harvest gold counter tops and the gleaming matching stove and refrigerator. A center island held all kinds of copper pots hanging from a stainless steel rack that made a roof over it.

She almost ran to see what her bedroom looked like. That the "little girl's" room would be hers, she had already decided. She hoped that it would still look like a girl's room. She passed by the master bedroom and the "boy's" bedroom to find the door to her room closed. She pushed it open and gasped.



The four poster bed had been completely recovered with new fabric. It didn't look strange to her, despite the fact that the fabrics were archaic in design. The room she had spent so much time in ... had experienced so many new and exciting moments in ... looked alive to her now. Her eyes were drawn to the rest of the room in darting glances as she tried unsuccessfully to take it all in.

Her eyes lit on the cedar chest where she had packed away her cherished special dresses each time after she had worn them during dress up play. The chest had obviously been refinished and gleamed with a coating of oil.



She had her first disappointing feeling as she saw the now beautiful piece of furniture. She knew somehow, sadly, that the dresses would be gone. Never again would she be able to pull on the sweet smelling old clothes and parade in front of her brother, pretending to be a princess, or the mistress of the manor. She felt a single tear roll down her cheek.

A sound behind her made her turn quickly, wiping the tear away. It was her uncle, standing in the open doorway, leaning negligently against the jamb.



"So what do you think?" he asked. "Is it suitable for a beautiful teenage girl?"

Debbie felt conflicting emotions. She knew it was silly, but she really missed those dresses.

"Yes, it's beautiful," she said.

"Why then do you cry?" he asked.

Debbie wiped at her cheek again, embarrassed. "It's nothing. There were dresses that I kept in that chest. I used to wear them sometimes," she said.



"My mother's dresses," he said nodding. "Yes they were beautiful. You liked them very much?"

"Oh yes!" said Debbie, unable to control her burst of emotion. "I felt so pretty when I wore them."

"A simple dress could not make you more beautiful than you are now," he said, bowing. "But I am glad that I had them cleaned and replaced. I suspected that someone had been wearing them."

"What?" said Debbie, startled.

"Look inside," he said gently, waving a hand at the chest.

Debbie went to the chest and lifted the lid. The odor of cedar spilled into her nostrils and she saw all her dresses ... her grandmother's dresses, she corrected herself. They had been neatly folded back into the chest after it was refinished.



Debbie turned, more tears in her eyes now, and stared at the man she'd hated, then wanted to hate, and now couldn't hate any more.

"Still you cry?" he teased. "I am such a failure." He tried to look dejected.

Debbie ran to him and hugged him tightly.

"Oh thank you Uncle Bob. You have no idea what this means to me," she cried.

"It was but a little thing," he said stroking her hair. "I have upset your life, and would do what I can to let you retain as much of it as you can."



Debbie turned, one arm still around her uncle and surveyed the room. "It really is beautiful," she said.

Robert looked down into the expanse of teenaged cleavage she had exposed by turning. He could see the insides of her breasts. They looked white and soft.

"It is indeed beautiful," he said, smiling.

Debbie's eyes settled on the dressing table. It had been dust covered and streaked when she last saw it. Now it, too, gleamed with a coat of oil over its refinished surfaces. The drawer pulls were shining brass now, instead of dark green lumps of metal. The mirror she had looked at herself in as she played dress up was clean and shining, surrounded by an ornate gilded frame which before had looked like a dull yellow mass of indistinct carving. A doll sat, leaning against the bottom corner of the mirror. She had held that doll, and examined it, though she had felt too old to play with dolls, especially when she and Robby began playing dress up. The doll had a porcelain face that was so realistic that it was hard to believe. Its clothing had been faded and dirty, and one leg had been torn at the knee. Now it looked brand new, having been repaired by a master restorer of antique dolls.



Robert saw where she was looking. "That was your mother's" he said. "When we left she cried many times, wanting that doll. If I could have come back to get it for her I would have. But we were not allowed to come to this place after ... afterward. Maybe you should take it to her?"

Debbie looked up at her uncle and saw the softness in his eyes as he looked at the doll. It made her stomach feel fluttery to see that look of love.

"Can I give it to her as a wedding present?" she asked. "I can't think of anything to get her."

"I think that would be most perfect," he agreed, smiling. "Now, to what do I owe the honor of your visit this fine day?"

Debbie was suddenly nervous. She had come here like she still owned this place. The changes in it had shocked her as she realized that it was different ... so different that it didn't seem like the same house to her. And yet, it was so familiar that she couldn't help but feel at home in it. It was like somebody she loved had been in the hospital, about to die, but had recovered and now looked completely healthy.



"We decided last night to live here after the wedding," she said. "I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you or not. Mom may want to tell you herself. But I just had to come and see ... to see if it was the same."

"Alas, it is not the same," admitted her uncle, his arm still around her.

"No, but I think that's all right," she said softly. "It looks so much better. It's so pretty and bright." She slumped a little. "I don't know if the ghosts will even come back now."

Her uncle smiled and she saw it out of the corner of her eye. She stuck out her jaw.

"We used to talk to them, you know," she said stubbornly. "They ... watched us. They liked having us here," she insisted.

"I do not doubt that my ancestors loved having you in this place," he said seriously. "So many unhappy things happened here. I'm sure they were very satisfied to have happy young people here again." His eyes dipped to her cleavage again. "I know I'll be happy to have happy young people here."

Debbie saw his eyes and blushed. "You're a horrible tease, you know that? What would my mother say if she saw where you're looking?"

"She would say that I have wonderful taste in ogling breasts," he said easily. "Yours are perhaps as beautiful as hers."

Debbie blushed harder. Then she kissed him on the cheek. "You make me feel good," she said finally.

"Then my day has not been wasted," he said, kissing her forehead. He looked at her again, this time into her eyes. "I'm really very happy that you have decided to do this thing ... to let your mother and I be happy ... to live with us. And it is not only because of your beautiful breasts either," he said, winking at the end.

Debbie felt giddy at his obviously heartfelt expression of thanks. She stepped away from him though, feeling that fluttering in her stomach again. He was really very handsome in a strange and different way and she felt unaccountably nervous being so close to him.

"What can I do to help?" Debbie asked brightly.

Robert smiled. "Well, I happen to be talking to the interior decorator about the bedroom your mother and I will use. Perhaps you could lend your expertise on things she likes? I love her more than life itself, but I've been gone a long time, and don't know her every day likes yet."

Debbie squealed with excitement and followed him to the master bedroom. It too looked different, with the furniture refinished and the wainscot redone. The walls above that were bare, though, and the huge four poster bed in that room was bare as well, without even a mattress on it. A woman was standing in the middle of the room making notes on a clipboard.



There ensued a spirited discussion, primarily between Debbie and the woman, about how the room should be tricked out. Debbie, in her own way, described what the perfect room would look like, thinking of her mother and the colors she liked and things like that.

When they were done the woman turned to Robert. "Well, other than being a cradle robber, I have to say you have chosen well for a wife. She has exquisite taste Mr. Nettleton."

Debbie gaped, then blushed, and then started to correct the woman, but Robert stepped up to her and put his arm around her possessively.

"I know an exquisite woman when I meet one," he said smiling broadly. "Her beauty will complete this house, along with that of her daughter and son. I have, indeed, been lucky."

The woman left and Debbie turned to her uncle. "Why did you let her think I was going to be your wife?" she asked curiously.

"Think about it," said Robert. "She will now go out and tell everyone what a sexy young wife I have. People will gossip about it, and when I take your mother somewhere people will already be thinking how beautiful and young she is. It is a harmless little prank, yes?"

"I guess so," said Debbie uncertainly. She didn't think of her mother as young. Beautiful, yes, but not young. Children never do.

"How did it make you feel that the woman believed you and I would be married? That we would do the things married couples do?" he asked.

Debbie blushed again. "I ... I ... we don't do those things!" she finally got out.

"This is a true thing you have said," he nodded. "But you do do them with Robby. And when people do these things, babies are created. When that happens you will be a mother in this house, and almost a wife. Have you not thought of this?" he asked, knowing that youth rarely plan further than next weekend.

"Well, no" she admitted. He remained silent while she couldn't help but think about ... being pregnant ... in this house. "Mom and I talked about it a little bit," she said, as if proud of herself. "And if that happens then I'll try to be a good mother."

"Then my recommendation to you is to begin thinking of yourself as a mother now," Robert said firmly. "If this thing happens, then it cannot be undone."

"But ..." Debbie started and then stopped. She couldn't even think about having an abortion. The thought alone made her ill.

"In this house there are no 'buts'" said Robert. "If you become pregnant, the child will be of the Nettleton line. I would have to resist in the most vociferous manner should you try to become not pregnant. This is a thing you must understand about me. Your mother and I are the only Nettletons left, besides you and your brother. Many children are needed to carry on this line, and none can be wasted. This would be true whether it was Robby's child or that of another."

Debbie stared at him thoughtfully. "I could never have an abortion," she said firmly. "I don't know why I even thought of that. But it sounds as if you want to make me into a baby machine."

"This is not what I meant at all," he said. "If you never have a child at all your mother and I will love you as always. Having children is your concern. But if you decide to do that, I want you to understand that it is a serious concern, and that others will have a stake in the child's life too. You will not be alone if you become a mother."

Debbie suddenly thought about the sperm that was still pooled in her womb at this very moment. For the first time since she had begun pursuing an ... adult ... relationship, she thought seriously about the consequences of what was lying in her belly.

"I will bear, and love and cherish my children," she said in a surprisingly adult tone of voice. "I doubt that I'd make a very good mother right now, but I'll learn whatever it takes."

"You'll make a better mother now than you might have an hour ago, I'll wager," said her uncle. "Your body is ready to provide new life," he said, looking at her breasts again and making her squirm. "However ... you might want to give some thought to preventing babies until you feel you are ready."

"Yes," said Debbie, her spirits suddenly muted. "I'll think about that."

"Excellent!" said Robert boisterously. "Now, tell me, do you ever eat ice cream? I have a freezer full of this delightful treat, and I'll never be able to eat it all by myself."

Debbie spent another five hours with her uncle, talking and helping him make decisions, while the workmen always seemed to need to be around them, asking questions, or carrying things past the lovely young woman. Robert noted their interest and smiled. There would be many happy women this night when these men got home and needed to sate their lust.

TBC.... in next Chapter
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Old 16-09-2021, 12:20 AM
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Re: Haunting Sex Story

This story is nice, keep on writing.
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