Summary:

In 1414, Jake Harlan and Emily share a passionate wedding night in the haunted bedroom of their Kansas ranch house before he departs for battle against Pancho Villa’s forces and dies in a New Mexico skirmish. Emily grieves deeply, commissioning a portrait infused with his essence. Centuries later, in 1992, Sarah Jenkins seeks shelter from a storm at the abandoned ranch and encounters Emily’s ghost in the same bedroom. Their intimate connection summons Jake’s spirit on the anniversary of his death, leading to a shared reunion among the three in the flickering candlelight and raging tempest outside.

Here is your Story: I Had a Threesome with Ghosts in the Haunted Bedroom

Chapter Five. Blessed Reunion.

1414. Jake Harlan, second son of the Harlan estate off Route 66 in rural Kansas, kissed eighteen-year-old Emily. Their thing kicked off right there. They’d been strolling the apple orchard behind the old Harlan ranch house. Dry leaves snapped under their boots. October chill bit the air. He stood five inches taller. He leaned in. Tipped her chin up. Pressed his lips to hers. They matched up just right. Jake had bucked the arranged marriage at first. Then he spotted her, wheat-blonde hair, full rack, chocolate-brown eyes. Nobody else fit his idea of hot. She felt it too. Head over heels for the beefy ranch hand, sandy hair to his shoulders, sky-blue eyes. Quiet type. Killer grin.

Up to the wedding, Emily bunked at the ranch with her folks and kid brother. She watched her guy stay ripped. Training for the fight against the Mexicans down south. Couldn’t peel her eyes off him in his wifebeater. Muscles bunched. Hips snapped forward in drills. Got her fired up. The virgin itched bad.

Wedding hit the next month. Big bash. Her dress: top-shelf white satin from Macy’s, pearl beads, sheer veil to match. President Wilson wired congrats to his go-to rancher kid. Potluck roared. Fiddle tunes bounced off the barn walls. Tables laid out in a fat L. Newlyweds at the top end. Looking out over the crowd.

Hours later, call-out: happy couple heads upstairs. Whoops and hollers dogged them to the bedroom. Two dozen Yankee Candle jars flickered in the big room. Four-poster bed with brass frame. Duck-down pillows piled high.

The Wedding Night

“Let me get those clothes off you, handsome.” Eyes glued. Emily tugged his shirt and jeans slow. He stood bare. She trailed skinny fingers over his fuzzy chest, ripped arms. Stared at his gut. Six-pack hot under her hand.

“Darlin’. That touch drives me nuts.” She grinned. Wrapped both hands around his hard-on. Kissed him rough. That fat dick sent sparks straight to her pussy. Stepped back. Let him yank off her dress and slip.

“Damn, you’re one fine piece.”

“I do it for you?”

“Hell yeah.” His cock jumped. He drank in her curves, heavy tits, tight legs, round ass.

“Let me clean you up.” Nook in the corner. Basin of steaming water, Irish Spring scent. Blonde knockout snagged a washcloth. Dragged it over his chest, back. Lathered his firm cheeks, hamstrings, balls, shaft. Jake let out a groan. Soapy fists twisted his stiff dick base to head. He thrust up from his heels. Fucked her grip. Practice for the main event.

“Quit, or I’ll blow in your hands.” Beefy guy scooped her up easy. Carried to the bed. Her flat on her back. His mouth and fingers roamed her pale skin. Emily drifted. He mauled her big tits hungry. Juices slicked her thighs. Pussy throbbed for it, like she’d rubbed one out since high school. Needed him now. Clung tight. Yanked him down. His smell, pure man. Thighs fell open. His weight, hard body pinning her, heady as Jack Daniel’s. Brushed sandy hair from her face. Breathed hot in her ear. Rocked her in his arms on the squeaky mattress. Then he slid in.

“Holy shit!” Ripped her cherry. Held still inside.

“That hurt too much?”

“Nah. Fuck me.” Arms clamped his wide back. He pumped steady. Jake growled at her squeeze. She bucked up to match. Strokes plunged deeper, quicker. She soaked through, hornier. Tongues tangled, moans swapped. Banged like animals. Heat total. He angled up. Her body shook. “Yeah! That’s the stuff!” Gasped through the rush. Jake rumbled, hammered her dripping slit. Pussy gripped his rod tight. Full tits squashed his hairy chest. Thighs clamped his hips as she bucked beneath.

“You’re mine.”

“All yours, always.”

“Mine forever.”

“Till the end.”

“Always mine.” They went at it twice more before noon. Broke for the outhouse. Emily craved his pounding, his load deep inside. More than just screwing. He owned her heart and body. She surrendered total. Dawn crept in. She dug the slide of his dick in her soaked hole. He slammed the bedframe. Ass cheeks clenched. Her cream leaked around his thick shaft. Skin slapped skin. He neared the edge.

“Come on, baby. Fill me up!” Jake locked up. Jizz spurted. Cock pulsed, flooded her pussy. She came right with him. Peak hit hard. He pulled out. Thick cum oozed from her pounded cunt. Her blood pounded at the mess.

War and Loss

“Word’s out! Uncle Sam’s calling me up to ship to the border. Pancho Villa’s boys are moving. We hit ’em head-on.” Emily hugged her husband of nine months. Bawled. “Knew it was coming. I’m terrified for you.”

“Stay strong, darlin’. We’ll whip ’em. I’ll be back.”

“Promise?”

“On my life. If I buy it, your face’ll be the last thing I see. Damn glad I married you.”

“I’ll hold on. Through hell or high water till you’re home. One more round.”

American troops clashed at some mud-hole skirmish in New Mexico. Raw, rainy day. Outnumbered. Villa’s men had ’em five to one. Doughboys pulled victory. Gore everywhere. Jake Harlan went down fighting. Real hero. Week later, word hit Emily. Month on, his body’s trucked back.

“They got me same as him. I’ll grab a gun and go after those bastards like he did. Death’s welcome if it means seeing him. Hire that painter, Tom Reilly. Do a portrait mixed with Jake’s blood and cum. Potion for love that lasts. Make it happen.”

1992. Sarah Jenkins shoved the warped door to the last standing silo on the Harlan ranch. Slipped into the dank space. Shook her poncho. Bruised sky cracked lightning. Thunder boomed. Picked her way in. Weeds stabbed through concrete slabs. Dim rays sliced broken louvers on the grain chute. Lit up the rot. Twenty years since that ghost-hunter crew poked around? Crazy shit. {See part 6}

Old tales checked out. Place crawled with spooks. Blonde girl wandered the nights hunting comfort. Barn dust clogged the air. Reek of wet hay and rust stung her nose. Shut down a year back. Fix-up costs too steep. Sarah hunted the cursed portrait of Lady Emily Harlan. Hung there still. Looked up. Busty blonde, tits out proud. Painted 1916. Hung on through decades. Lovelorn ghost lured the living now and then. Those dark eyes stared down. Topless babe worked the same spell. Luck or pull dragging her here again? Sarah remembered clear as day. Since then, wed Bill Carter, split up. Teaches third grade now. Driving to aunt Linda’s in the pickup. Storm slammed. Road washed out. Closest roof: Harlan ranch! Left boot squished. Nosy forty-year-old climbed to that bedroom.

Four-poster hung in. Clean sheets on the mattress. Dropped her duffel by the nightstand. Crossed to the sash window. Yanked dusty curtains. Rain sheets streaked the glass. Blinked hard. Face in the pane? Whipped around. Locked eyes with the glowing Emily. Lit from inside. Stunning face lit up. Ghost firmed up solid. Shiny blonde waves over shoulders. Sarah froze. Knew it’d happen. Still shook her. Fingers dug into the bedpost, palm smacked the pine, to keep upright. Plunked down before blacking out.

“You’re back.” Blonde spoke low. Buck naked. Nineteen, stacked body, big chest heaving with breath.

“So’re you.” Sarah’s brain spun. Second freak meet-up. Wanted to bolt. Legs locked. Fear hit first. Eyes bugged on the nude curves. Didn’t fight as clothes got stripped. Pinned to the bed. Throat went sand-dry. Emily’s fingers traced her chest. Heat bloomed low. Sarah’s pussy twitched at the graze. She purred low.

Gentle strokes, lip sucks on her tits. Panties off. Stacked blonde dove into her bush. Tongue wriggled into the slit. “You’re soaked already. Perfect. Your pussy’s hot, dripping. I want it.” Sarah let go. Moaned sharp. Cradled the girl’s head. Chewed her lip. Slid hands down, hiked the ass up. Nipped the lips, kissed the folds. Tongue drove into wet heat. Slow work. Lapped the soft meat. Thorough laps outside, in the lips. Flat tongue drags. Dipped in the hole. Sarah hummed low bliss. Stunned by the sight eating her out. Tongue hit clit. Nibbles sparked. Sucked it in. Slobbered till Sarah came hard. Hips jerked wild. Kept at the nub. Second blast tore through. Huge.

Emily rose. Planted her pussy on Sarah’s mouth. Ground back and forth greedy. Sarah lapped up. Gripped the cheeks. Gave it all. Emily twisted, quaked. Drool slicked thighs. Sarah’s cunt ached, teased. Ghost yelled out. Humped to her peak.

Just heavy breaths and rain pelting the window. Ghost babe shone content. Stretched out slow. Lips parted slack. Kitty mews. “Ain’t like a guy’s load. Still hits nice.” Sarah stared wide-eyed. Shook. Ripples mixed with dread.

“What year?”

“1992.”

“Jesus. The date?”

“October twenty-fifth. Yeah.” Emily shot straight up.

“No way. Day my man died at that skirmish. 576 years exact? Roamed all this time for a reason. We’ll bring him. Together.” Grabbed Sarah’s hand. Shut eyes. Head back. Murmured sweet talk, need. Called her one guy. Room went pitch black. Sarah freaked a sec. Eyes caught up. Empty. Emily squeezed. Then, shadow flicker.

“It’s time. We need you.” Nude blonde gasped. “Link us up after all these years.” Stir in the dark. Prickles hit Sarah’s skin. Gut twisted, she gagged. Blackout pulled her under slow. Arms leaden. Tried to shift.

“Jake Harlan here. My sweet Emily. Watched from the shadows since you crossed over like me. Tried calling you for ages. No dice. Agony of the wait. You offered your body over and over to make this. Fate. Past present future.” Sarah heard, saw. Paralyzed. Starved lovers. Tie that beat time.

“Waited this night since they dropped me, my love. Souls locked from the jump. Take me. Now.” Jake cut a fine figure back then. Jaw set hard, eyes fierce. Sandy hair to shoulders. Stood easy, nude. Arms crossed over iron chest. Cut abs rippled smooth skin. Slim hips. Quads bulged from ranch work, drills. Pure young buck power. Eyes dropped to his crotch. Thick cock jutted out stiff. Heavy veins on the shaft.

Grinning blonde kissed the fat head. Stretched her lips. Swallowed the tip. Jake twitched. She knelt, hands on his thighs. Sarah gawked, mind blown. Tongue swirled the ridge. Head bobbed. Sarah’s pussy throbbed need. Fingers slipped into her own wet folds. Jake thrust. Shoved down her throat. She hummed glad around the meat. Loved servicing that dick. After the suck, Emily pulled off. Eyed Sarah. Cock bobbed slick. Saliva gleamed. She gripped the base. Stroked tender. Nodded over.

“One like her kept me going out there.”

“Join us. Love like this never dies.” Tall guy opened arms. Redhead dove in. Long lick base to tip. Knelt beside. Emily pinned blonde hair back. Shoulder to shoulder. Sucked and licked in sync. Lips bumped sloppy. Pole throbbed wet. Horny pair worked it. Frenzied. Swapped on the shaft, balls. Emily wild. Flopped back on the bed. Pussy dripped down thighs. Crashed lips to Sarah’s. Headed the cock to her slit. Eased down. Took half.

“Fuck me hard, stud. Don’t hold back.” She ground hips. He sank full in. Stayed buried. Kissed fierce. Drew back. Nearly all out. Slammed home. “Shit, yes!” Slow repeats. Picked up speed. Harder pounds. Tits thwacked his chest. Drove deep. Sweet blonde shook. Climax closing. Pinned to the sheets. He chased his too. Blew together. Load filled her pussy. She shattered.

Sarah watched inches away. Jake caught breath quick. Ghosts picked up. Cock still rigid. Plunged in again and again. Stacked blonde writhed happy underneath. Hands on hips, back. Legs hooked, ankles locked behind. Sarah zoned on the endless screw. Short jabs. Deep probes. Dick buried in pussy.

“Fill me again, baby.” Cream leaked as he pumped steady. He unloaded. Flood into the spasming hole. Sarah’s sharp breath caught Emily’s ear. She grinned at the stunned woman.

“Want a turn on that dick, darlin’?” Jake stood tall. Sandy hair swinging. Led quiet redhead to bed. Body cut, solid. Sarah’s hand grazed chest, arms shy. Clear blue eyes met hers. He mounted. Fed stiff cock to her pussy. Thighs sticky. Legs splayed wide. Thick head split the lips. Long groan as he sank in. Hands kneaded tits. Huge thrusts deep over and over. He clamps the four-poster’s oak post. Brass knobs rattle under the strain.

Sarah’s world narrowed to the creak of that bedframe and the salt-stink of sweat mixing with rain-soaked dust. Jake’s grip tightened on the post, knuckles white, as he drove into her with the same relentless rhythm he’d given Emily. Her body arched, nails digging into his back, chasing the build. Emily watched from the side, fingers tracing lazy circles on her own thigh, murmuring low encouragements like “That’s it, take him deep.” The storm outside peaked with a final thunder crack, then eased to a steady patter. Jake grunted once, hips snapping final, and spilled inside Sarah, hot, thick pulses that tipped her over. Emily leaned in, kissed Sarah’s neck soft, tasting the pulse there. The three tangled quiet now, breaths syncing to the drip of water from the window sill. Sarah’s fingers brushed the duffel strap on the floor, zipper tag cool against her skin.