Haunted House - Part 1

So the winner of the Halloween poll was definitely ghost stuff, so we're going with that. Expect a 2-3 parter where we get to the good stuff relatively quickly. If I have time, maybe I'll even get the runner-up topic in there too. 

Oh, and in case it wasn't obvious--the characters are here are 18+, although they might range more into the plus side of 18. Hint hint. 

“I swear that picture was looking at us,” Colin said as the two made their way deeper into the haunted house. At least, that’s what the kids at school called it. Everybody said the old mansion was haunted, but nobody had ever gone inside to find out.

Until Colin and Jack decided to spend All Hallows Eve in the house. It was a dare, one of the stupid ones that high school seniors would embark on--too old to trick or treat, but not so old to write off an urban legend.

Besides, Christina and Monica promised a double date if they managed to go the whole night. That was more than enough motivation for a couple of teenagers with more horny than sense.

“You’re just being paranoid,” Jack replied, a little testily. Colin turned into a sniveling wimp the moment the pair had entered in through a broken window in the back. The place was cold, dusty, and spooky, but it wasn’t haunted--at least, not to Jack. Merely deserted, the last remnant of a fortune that had yet to be sold off in the current down-market.

It did have the occasional odd decoration, though. The strange portrait of the former owner notwithstanding, the two would occasionally come across the odd erotic statuette. The first seemed to be an artistic interpretation of ancient Greek wrestlers, only they were far more endowed than usually depicted in Grecian art. And then there was Theseus and the minotaur, only the Minotaur was ravishing the Greek warrior while a cock the size of the arm leaked fluid all over the legendary warrior’s armor.

When the next bust turned out to be little more than an oversized dildo, the two looked at each other and laughed. This place wasn’t haunted--it was just super gay.

But then they’d walked past the painting of a portly, mustachioed man, and Colin went back to jumping at shadows.

“I’m telling you, it was watching us!”

Jack sighed. “There’s no such thing as ghosts, and there’s no way a painting is going to hurt you. Now help me grab a few books so we can make a fire at least.”

Whatever room the two now found themselves in at least had a fireplace. There were more than a few books around--massive, thick tomes that would make great kindling. They needn’t have bothered though, as Jack soon found some wooden logs still stacked neatly next to the cement grate.

A fire would go a long way towards keeping them both warm as they hunkered down for the night. Both had brought sleeping bags, but neither had brought cell phones as a condition for their bet.

It was a windy night, and although the mansion was enormous by anyone’s standards, it was old. And it creaked.

Colin was shivering in his sleeping bag letting out a whimper every time he heard branches rub against the wall from outside.

“Jesus, dude, chill out. You’re going to die of a heart attack at this rate.”

Colin fumed. “This was a stupid idea.”

“Not stupid if it gets us laid before college.”

“Not worth it.”

“Totally worth it,” Jack replied, sitting back down on his sleeping blanket. With the fire roaring, light now filled the room. It seemed like some sort of library or reading room, with a pair of sofas in the back and each wall filled from floor to ceiling with books. And on pedestals in every corner, more phallus statues.

“Dude must’ve been a raging homo,” Jack muttered.

“Huh?”

“The guy who owned the place before he kicked it. Probably the guy you saw in that painting. Name was Richard something, but guess we should just call him Dick.”

Another bang as a tree rubbed against a window further in the home caused Colin to start in the direction of the noise. He calmed down, but not before Jack got an idea.

By the time Colin looked back for his friend, he’d vanished.

“Oh fuck, oh FUCK!” Colin said, standing up, whipping his head around from side to side in a desperate search for his friend. When he felt a hand grasp his ankle, he screamed and nearly leaped as high as the ceiling.

Jack crawled out from beneath the sofa he’d been hiding under, laughing uproariously. Colin didn’t find it nearly as funny, and the two tussled. Their roughhousing eventually reached a wall, where Colin’s shove caused Jack to impact the bookshelf and knock what appeared to be a black box from its perch.

The box fell and popped open, revealing a big, black cigar.

“Oh sweet, a stogie!” Jack plucked it from the box and gave it a sniff--it didn’t smell moldy.

“You’re not going to smoke that, are you? It’s probably super old and gross.”

“Nah man, we’re BOTH going to smoke it. It’s our last year, live a little,” Jack said. “Besides, what else are we going to do? Jerk each other off?”

“Uh, no,” Colin said with a cough.

“Right, so,” Jack got out a switchblade and crudely cut off the end of the stogie. He then brought it to the fire, neatly lighting it with a few embers that had fallen away from the main conflagration.

Colin could have sworn he heard deep-throated laughter from somewhere down the mansion’s many halls, but he kept it to himself this time. He’d already embarrassed himself several times this evening, and he didn’t plan to do it again.

“Oh wow, this thing is amazing,” Jack said, taking a deep lungful before handing it over to his compatriot. “Yeah man, try it.”

Colin had never smoked before, but the moment he put the cigar to his lips it was like his body knew exactly what to do all on its own. He inhaled, felt the smoke filling his lungs, the tingling of a nicotine rush filling his body. He coughed a few times, but not nearly as much as he’d expected.

He handed the cigar back to Jack as the rush seemed to center itself on his middle before going lower. The familiar sensation of blood rushing to his groin made Colin turn away slightly after handing Jack the stogie, certain he was getting one of those embarrassingly frequent and completely random erections.

“Hey man, no need to hide it,” Jack said between puffs, and Colin saw for the first time the impressive tent that Jack had sprung. “Just two dudes enjoying a good smoke. Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

The rush had gotten to Colin’s head. He felt woozy for a moment but then composed himself as Jack offered the cigar back to him for another round. Everything felt odd, strange, out of sorts--the only thing that felt normal was putting the tube of dried tobacco in his mouth and sucking. Hard.

This time Colin did cough as he produced an impressive cloud of smoke. “Dang, that’ll put hair on your chest,” Jack noted.

Another rush as the smoke suffused him, and this time he felt the insistent pressure of a massive hardon. So insistent, in fact, that he heard a slight ping as his zipper failed and his boxer-covered cock burst from its denim prison.

“Woah, guess that’s not all it’ll do,” Jack said, eyes transfixed on Colin’s impressive endowment. “Need a hand with that?”

Any other time, Colin would have responded with a sarcastic quip to keep his homo hands to himself, but with smoke filling the room, it was hard to think with anything other than the organ now begging for freedom between Colin’s legs. It even seemed bigger than he remembered.

He nodded, and Jack placed a hand over Colin’s cloth-covered head, eliciting an excited squirt of pre-cum.

And in the distance, the mansion’s oldest resident chuckled. It was almost time.