Raccooncub said:
I think the study might be a good idea. Seems like a good idea to sit back for a pipe, a cigar, and a blowjob.
Although I think we’ll hold off on the blowjob. I’m trying to take it a bit slower with the story–they do have all night in the house, right? Still, that doesn’t mean we can’t have something else blow…
***
Upstairs, both David and Ken were caught off guard by the lights in the hallways springing to life, and the groan of hot air rushing through the walls, though Ken was more unnerved by it than David was, who figured it was just Dan or Bob trying to scare them. He had been trying quite a few doors in the hallways, trying to force them open, but many of them seemed to be locked tight, and those rooms he could open were pretty much bare, aside from a few random pieces of furniture covered by sheets.
“Well damn,” Ken said behind him, opening a door with ease, “Hey David, take a look at this room. Freaky…”
David was a bit annoyed–he’d tried that door seconds earlier, and it had been locked tight–did Ken just have the magic touch or something? Still, he followed the linebacker into what appeared to be a very large and elaborately decorated study–well, morbidly decorated he supposed, with any number of slightly rotted animal heads hanging on the walls. In fact, the whole room stank of…well, just stank. David really didn’t want to go in there–it didn’t feel like he…belonged in there, but Ken didn’t seem to have the same feelings. He was actively exploring, poking around the massive desk, when he laughed, “Ha, fuck yes!–hmm…Master’s Blend eh? Haven’t heard of the brand…still, says it’s Cuban–nice.”
David looked over and saw that Ken was rolling a cigar in his fingers, and David rolled his eyes. Coach was always getting on Ken’s back about his smoking habit, but the linebacker showed no interest in quitting. In fact, he’d told David and a few other friends that smoking actually got him horny. “Dude, do you have any idea how old those must be? Seriously–let’s get out of here, this place is giving me the creeps…” David said, but saw that Ken had already pulled out his lighter and had the cigar smoldering between his lips.
“Creepy? I don’t think so–it feels…comfortable, actually. Damn…this is…I think this is the best thing I’ve ever…ever smoked,” Ken said, and he felt a strange, sudden urge rise up when he looked at David, an urge to dominate, to control, to fuck–and then as fast as it came, it was gone again, and he shook his head, forgetting it almost immediately, aside from the sudden hard on in his pants. And both of them turned to the doorway when they heard a voice:
“David! Ken! Where the hell are you two? There’s some freaky shit going on here!”
It was Bob, yelling about something downstairs, and David sighed, “Come on, let’s go see what has his panties in a twist,” he said, but pulled up short when Ken shot back.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, giving me orders, boy?”
The voice was brash and commanding, and…terrifying, sending a real chill down David’s back, and he whirled around, staring at Ken, still smoking the cigar. “What did you say?”
“Huh? Did I say something?…I don’t…I think we should go see what Bob’s problem is. Come on, boy,” Ken said, brushing past David and heading down the hall, David catching a whiff of the acrid cigar smoke, wondering how his friend could handle something that strong…strong, and manly…and…with a shudder, David felt his cock suddenly unload a massive wad of cum into the front of his jeans.
“Oh…fuck…” he groaned, gripping the doorway for support as the orgasm ripped through him. “I’ll…I’ll catch up in a second…sir.”
“Fucking now, boy!” Ken shouted back, and David felt his feet immediately follow, the wet spot growing on the front of his jeans, as he followed Ken back down the stairs.
***
They found Bob in the foyer, growing more and more frantic–and much heavier than when they’d last seen him. The basketball player was no longer thin–in fact, he was looking rather rotund. The gut Bob had sprouted in the kitchen had only kept growing as his meal digested, and he now had a healthy set of moobs, thick thighs, and the start of a double chin, and at his six foot five height–he was huge, though no longer athletic. Heaving for breath and sweaty from head to toe, he stopped when he saw Ken and David, relieved that nothing horrible had happened to them.
“What…what in the hell happened to you, Bob?” David asked.
“There’s…There’s some weird shit going down here–there’s this…ghost chef, and Dan’s gone, and–”
“Hey, calm down,” Ken said, and immediately, Bob’s heart rate eased up, relief flooding through him, “Look, this isn’t a big problem, alright? Here, let’s all split up and look for Dan. You two split up and look around here on the ground floor. I’ll check the upper floors, in case he went up there…yeah, I need…I need to go up there…somewhere…” he said, taking a deep draw off the cigar, and looking around, he saw the others had already left, automatically obeying his orders, and he trudged back up the stairs–not sure where he was going, but…well, he knew he’d find whatever he needed up there…somewhere.
Who should we follow (for the moment):
1) The now fatter Bob, trying not to think about the hunger gnawing at his gut?
2) David, still rattled by his spontaneous orgasm?
3) Ken, who perhaps stumbles into the master’s suite upstairs?
Don’t be afraid of details–they tend to draw my eye more than anything else. Also–don’t count Dan out either–who knows when or how the new furnace master might resurface?
Bracken's Corner 