They say the bell tower is haunted, but I simply didn’t believe them. So, this year, I was going to prove it.
“Are we done with this stupid ‘haunted tour’ for extra credit? I want to get to the party on Greek Row,” a girl whined from the back.
Everyone’s flashlights flew to her, and a fit of giggles ensued. I kind of felt the same way, but getting the haunted tour of Willow Bay was a little entertaining from how the guide’s crowd work was.
The cemetery was the last stop, where the founders of the city were said to roam around, causing chaos for those who wanted to take what they believed belonged to them.
Hair raised on the back of my neck with a whisper against my ear. “Getting drunk with you and making bad choices doesn’t sound half bad to me, Blondie.”
“I want my extra credit first,” I whispered back. I also want to prove the hauntings to be fake.
Warm hands slid gently across my exposed skin. “I could change your mind.”
One of the students huffed from the middle of the group, “Look! No ghosts. Can we sign the paper now?”
The tour guide threw up his hands. “Fine. Everyone gets their extra credit, then.”
Everyone rushed to sign their names, and I was off, evading Brent’s eye, to check out the bell tower to prove there were n o ghosts up there. They said that Henry Lowell, one of the men who was betrayed by the founding families, was killed in the bell tower after a disagreement that left someone feeling particularly murderous.
I wanted to see if old Henry still sat restless in his betrayal. Or if the ‘ghost sightings’ were fake.
Splitting off from the group that beelined it to the parking lot to go drink it up, I quickly made my way back to the tower. A stone wall covered in vines on the side hid the ladder to get up to the top.
The bell went off signalling eleven o’clock. It was perfect timing to mask my climbing up the side to get into the closed off portion of the tower. They closed it off years ago from a few suspicious deaths—students in Willow Bay died at a higher rate than you’d expect. Go figure.
I hitched my leg over the edge and threw myself into the window. The darkness illuminated under the flash from my video—the proof I was going to bring back that Henry was not endlessly stuck in his place of death.
His death was just a rumor, anyway.
“What are you doing?”
The light caught a male figure.
[sigh] “How’d you even know I was in here?”
[chuckle] “As if I don’t keep tabs on you at all times.” Brent shook his head and pulled out his phone’s flashlight. “If you’re still caught on this story, I can tell you it’s real. I’ve seen the fucking bastard myself after a dare in freshman year.”
If that were true, then I’d have to see it myself. Second hand accounts weren’t convincing enough for me.
The door to the stairwell to the top of the tower itself, had been sealed off, leaving two windows. I chose the lower window to get the full experience.
A low rumble came from inside the wall as I climbed the stairs, Brent trailing after me. “Henry doesn’t seem too happy,” he muttered.
[laugh] “Brent Vaughn of all people, thinking ghosts are real.” There was a part of me that secretly enjoyed all of this. ‘Tis the season to be spooky!
The entry way into the top of the tower had a heavy wooden door, squeaking like it hadn’t been open in a hundred years as I pushed it open. Perfect to alert the ghost that my video camera was ready for him to show me proof of his existence—or not.
My light flickered in the dark and the camera cut out. Memory full it said. “Damn, I need to upgrade my phone storage.”
“It’s Henry, I’m telling you.”
If he could see me, he’d see me rolling my eyes at him. “Why don’t we take advantage of a dark, closed off space? You seemed eager earlier…”
Playing with the button on his jeans, I kissed his neck. He let out a low groan, unable to help himself around me.
I pressed my palm to his bulge. “Something about,” I started, his hands sliding up the nape of my neck, “bad decisions?”
“Mhm,” he nodded, sucking in a breath. “Bad, bad decisions. If I get possessed, you’re never going to live this down—I swear.”
His fingers ran through my hair, lightly tugging while I released his cock from his boxers. Slow strokes forced ragged breaths from his mouth.
Was it bad I liked him desperate for me?
“Blondie,” he warned.
I kept stroking him, the pulse between my legs building “Yes?”
Our lips collided and, suddenly, instead of ghost hunting, we were playing exhibitionist in the bell tower. I couldn’t say getting laid in a forbidden zone of the school instead of debunking a ghost’s existence was the worst thing I could do on a Friday night.
Ghost tours and forbidden place fucking—my bucket list is looking fantastic.
A cool surface pressed against my back and Brent bent down in front of me. “Was this your plan all along?” He reached up under my skirt and shifted my thong to the side. “To get me to fuck you after a ghost tour? I know you love your spooky season.”
He slid a finger inside me and I just about fell apart right there.
“It’s not,” I gasped, “that bad of an option.”
Two fingers now, pumping in and out. Brent guided one of my legs over his shoulder as it started twitching. “Ghosts really turn you on, huh? Should I go put on a costume to fuck you in?”
“Very funny,” I huffed.
“Do you want me to eat you out in the bell tower? That your ploy? You could have just asked me nicely…” He swiped his tongue once over my clit before clasping his mouth over it, sucking gently.
Yeah, this was better than ghost hunting.
Also, he was really fucking good with his mouth. The soft, rhythmic motions of his tongue paired with just how he knew how to move his fingers. Perfection.
“Fuck, just like that,” I breathed.
He knew exactly which spot to hit too. Fuck…
“Coming so soon? I was thinking of bending you over that ledge first. Go on, turn around.”
Wobbly legs and all I obliged. He was going to tease me into oblivion, edging me like this. “You always do this shit,” I huffed.
Smack! My ass stung from the sharp smack that landed perfectly square on my right cheek. “Hush,” he warned. “You come when I want you too.”
Leaning over the ledge looking into the area that held the bell of the tower, I thought I may have found one of my new favorite activities—getting railed on a ghost hunt. I even came up with the best name for it before he pressed into me.
“Spooky and Satisfying.”
[chuckle] “Happy to be of assistance, Blondie”
He grasped both of my wrists in one hand, thrusting himself in and out. The feeling of being weightless, filled to the brim, and potentially falling onto the bell lit a spark in my veins.
With absolutely no leverage, I tried pressing back into him. “Harder,” I begged.
Another smack echoed out, his hand landing on my left cheek this time. Brent’s voice dropped to a low, soothing coo. “Should we add fucking in haunted places on the yearly Halloween checklist?”
Every thrust sent me out just far enough out into the open air to put just enough fear in me that I might fly over the edge. But, god, was it glorious.
“Is that what my girl wants? I’ll give her whatever. She. Fucking. Wants.”
His free hand snatched my hair and he drove into me. Over and fucking over again.
“Yes—ah, fuck Brent I’m close again,” I yelped.
“Well? Fucking rub your clit and come all over me, then.”
I wiggled a hand free from his grip and slid my fingers across my wetness. The steady rhythm and moans filled the entire tower while it all dripped down my legs.
Rubbing my clit, I could feel myself beginning to break apart. “Oh god…”
The shaking in my legs picked up again, and he kept the pace at just the right angle. Over and over again he thrust his cock into me, pushing me closer and closer…
A wave of relief and ecstasy washed over me and a satisfied groan escaped my lips.
“Keep going,” he ordered, wrapping his hand around my throat. “Just like that. I know you can give me another.”
Between my legs mostly giving out and the rush of fucking in the bell tower, the only thing holding me up was his hand stationed at my throat and the other at my stomach. “You’re going to have to take that one yourself,” I replied.
He loved a challenge.
Brent yanked me up from the view of the bell over the ledge, and pressed me up against the pillar. “Don’t mind if I do.” Hoisting me into the air with my left leg cradled by his arm, he positioned himself back up at my entrance. Placing a soft kiss to my lips, he said, “Sit pretty and I’ll have you begging for a third.”
Banging an athlete a hundred percent had its perks.
“Does throwing a baseball around really make you this strong?”
He laughed. “It’s called working out.”
“I’ll keep blaming it on stupid man strength, actually.”
Glancing down, he started rubbing my clit. “Whatever you say, so long as I get to hear those sweet moans again.”
Capturing my mouth with his, he made good on taking the second orgasm himself. It was like he was a professional when it came to me with the way he knew how to coax orgasm after orgasm out of me.
Every. Single. Time.
I clenched around him, pulsing with my second wave. He didn’t stop on my account, fully enjoying his endeavors to shatter me from the inside out.
“Fuck, I’m going to…” Brent gritted his teeth, and I felt him pulse inside me.
That still didn’t stop him from continuing to play with my clit while I cried out, cum spilling out in an overflow.
My chest rose and fell rapidly with every ragged breath I took. I kissed him again before teasing, “I told you this place wasn’t haunted. It’s just us in this old place.”
Brent gingerly set me back down to the ground before pulling off his sweatshirt and then his shirt. He used the shirt to wipe down the inside of my legs, shaking his head. “For a horror fan, I’d think you’d be a true believer in the ‘unseen’ from another dimension. I should just let you run from old Henry with my cum dripping down your legs. Could be hot.”
Of course he’d say that.
I slapped him on the shoulder before saying, “You’re such an asshole!”
The rumbling in the tower started up again, the sound of stone shifting catching my attention. “Old building couldn’t handle us, I guess,” I scoffed.
Brent wasn’t so convinced. “That’s what happened last time I was here, actually. I think he’s here.”
Soft taps came from out in the stairwell. It was probably someone coming up the same way we did. Either we were too loud, or other students got the same idea we had.
Before I could see if anyone was coming up the steps, the door slammed itself shut.
“Ha, ha. Funny prank, Brent.”
He grabbed me by the arm and shoved me behind him. “It’s not me, and I think we just got locked in the tower.”
I glanced behind me at the open window. It would be easy to climb back down.
The only issue was that when I approached the window, I couldn’t get past it—like there was an invisible glass keeping me inside.
“There’s no way…” I muttered, trying again to no avail.
From the hesitation in his voice, it might have been possible Brent was right.
“We’re trapped in here with a ghost.”