It was Monday, though being in that house practically in the middle of the woods, it didn't matter what day of the week it was.
I woke up restless, as if something with the power to change everything was about to happen.
I went down to the living room naked except for my thick socks, as usual. It didn't smell like anything special. There was no background scent of croissants. It seemed that burning the email folder, burying Carmina's clothes and wig, and throwing her toys in the car had weakened her enough to leave me alone for a bit. I was thankful for that.
While I waited for Paco to show up (he hadn't said a word, but I was absolutely certain he was going to drop by, and sooner rather than later), I wandered around the house, bored out of my mind. I opened cabinets I hadn't opened yet and found a bunch of board games. I grabbed a Lord of the Rings one and spent a while playing with the little figure tokens like a fucking seven-year-old. Then I grabbed a Scrabble set and dumped all the tiles on the coffee table. I spelled out the words Blowjob, Cruising, Bruno, and Cock. Then I had to take a piss and decided to use the upstairs bathroom. The other one was closer, but I was starting to loathe the bathroom with the bathtub where Carmina had shared her memory of Alberto jerking off with vanilla shower gel, and I wasn't about to let the bitter writer stop me from enjoying that awesome house.
While I was shaking it off, my writer's brain—which anticipates every plot twist—threw this at me: How the hell do you leave Scrabble tiles alone on a table in a fucking haunted house? You're practically begging the dead bitch to leave you a creepy-ass message!
I ran down the stairs with my dick swinging in the breeze, slapping against my knees (I wish), and checked to see if the Scrabble tiles had moved. Carmina wouldn't have had the physical time to write anything in the time it takes me to take a piss. And yet, there was a new sentence. She had used some letters from my words and pulled others from the pile to spell out: You haven't gotten rid of me yet.
That was weird as fuck. I mean, sure. I had already been possessed by her. I had even starred in my own version of The Ring the night of the fucking squirrel party. But the ghostly ability to arrange letters on a table that fast seemed really strange to me. It meant that Carmina the bitch had brutal energetic control over the plane of the living. If she wanted to, she could give me an aneurysm or stop my heart on a whim. Basically, she could kill me very easily.
I stared thoughtfully at the Scrabble tiles. For someone who had just realized his life could be hanging by a thread, I was little to not at all scared.
"Carmina, you're not going to hurt me, right?"
I stared intently at the tiles and imagined myself using mental force to move them. If Carmina moved them right now, right in front of me, it would be so absurdly cinematic that it would make my day, my week, and my month. The letters started sliding across the table one by one, like a drunk woman who could only control one of her fingers, and soon her answer was formed before my eyes, not very straight but legible: We'll see.
What a bitch.
Suddenly I realized the dead woman was my number one spectator, and I felt important. And watched. My dick even got a little hard. I stroked it a bit for her. I wondered where her face would be if she had an energy body similar to the one she had in life to have moved those tiles with a finger, and I planted my half-hard dick right where I figured her lips might be.
I swear I felt the weirdest cold on the tip of my dick and then on my balls. Then I heard Paco's car pull up.
"We'll pick this up later," I promised the dead woman, and peeked out the window next to the front door.
Paco was parking and looked pissed off. I imagine driving almost two hours on a Monday morning, pressured by some brat's controlling mother, wasn't exactly a fucking thrill for him. I wondered how far my mom's tentacles reached to manage to bend a guy like that to her will. Paco was a 56-year-old hotshot editor, very sure of himself. But my mother handled him like her lapdog, just like everyone else.
Suddenly I felt the dead woman's freezing breath on my asshole, and my dick twitched.
"Carmina, be good. This one isn't easy to handle. At least not for me."
I was happy because a woman was making me hard, even if she was a dead one. In a matter of minutes, I had gone from my new homosexual status to post-mortem bisexuality. It was progress. Maybe I had become thanatosexual, given my recent experience of hooking up with idiots around the morgue. And in that case, if I was thanatosexual, what was Carmina? Dead-sexual? No, that term didn't suit her at all. She was quite sexually active. Even after death.
I opened the door for Paco before he could knock, just as naked as I was with the priest, with the difference that this time Paco wasn't finding me like this by accident. I was presenting myself naked with all my fucking nerve and all my fucking dick.
I managed to throw him off for just a second, but it felt like a total victory.
"What the fuck are you doing naked? Go upstairs right now and put something on, you idiot."
Fuck. Paco was really pissed off. I ignored the direct order.
"How do you know I picked the upstairs bedroom if you've never been here?"
"I saw your clothes on the chair by the window," he said, pointing up. And suddenly he smiled at me. I definitely wasn't expecting that.
"I'm glad to see you. I'm not glad to see you naked, but I'm glad to see you're okay."
"I'm in my element."
"I'd give you a hug, but you're butt-naked."
"Don't worry about it."
"Go upstairs and get dressed."
"I'm not going to."
This time I really threw him off.
"Why?" he asked, looking pretty lost. "I'm not going to talk to you with the elephant's trunk in the room."
"I've embraced nudism as a way of life. It's a natural right."
"Ah, in that case, I accept the terms."
And he walked in.
Now that was a hell of a goal.
Paco sat down in front of the coffee table and immediately spelled out the word Best Seller with the Scrabble tiles. Then he read my words and Carmina's. Blowjob was missing two Os and Bruno was missing the U, but Paco had no problem reading it all out loud.
"Blowjob, Cruising, Bruno, Cock, You haven't gotten rid of me yet, and We'll see. I see you've been busy, Cristóbal."
"My mother already told you something about Bruno, didn't she?"
"The little she knows. I told her to calm down. That it's just a phase."
"And what the fuck do you know."
"Hey, I don't give a shit who you sleep with. And deep down, I think your mother doesn't either. All I care about is that the business doesn't go to shit. This week we signed the series deal with Netflix."
"What? What? WHAT?"
"I think it's excellent news, but knowing how apathetic you've been about all this for months, I was thinking in the car that maybe to you it's shitty news."
Tears welled up in my eyes, and in a matter of seconds, my face was soaked. Something I had written was going to end up on the same platform where I watched Bridgerton with Mónica? It was unthinkable. Unthinkable.
If that was a fucking arm-wrestling match, Paco the bastard had won by absolute knockout.
"See? Now I'd give you a hug, but I'm not going to because you haven't put anything over that tiny dick of yours," he said.
I gave him the hug anyway. I made him stand up and hugged him naked as I was, burying my head in his chest and crying non-stop. It was weird because I wasn't sobbing. But my eyes were pure water. Paco returned the full hug, not giving a shit about my nakedness despite our entire previous conversation.
We stayed like that for a couple of minutes. I realized I was getting hard, but I didn't care. It felt really good in his arms.
"Are you happy?" he asked in a low voice. He meant about Netflix; I don't think he had seen or felt my dick, I was trying not to touch him with it.
"Very."
Instead of breaking the hug, we kept talking like that.
"I can't talk about money. But it's going to be really good. That is, if you manage to stick to the publication schedule we signed."
"Okay," I said, also in a low voice.
"I don't want to pressure you anymore. You're already fucked up enough without my daily bullshit. But this needs to come out, Cristóbal. You have to write."
"I know. I know. I will."
I felt an unnatural cold creeping up my legs. It wasn't like Carmina's little kiss on my asshole. It was as if someone had turned on an air conditioner at 60 degrees right on my legs. I looked up to look at Paco. He saw my erection. But he was more concerned about the sudden cold.
"What the fuck…?"
Suddenly, an empty bottle of anise liquor forgotten on the cabinet under the boar's head just exploded. Carmina hadn't dropped it on the floor, which would have been dramatic enough. She had made it shatter into a thousand pieces right where it was sitting.
"What's happening?" Paco asked, scared shitless.
"The house is haunted. I already told you. Or cursed—right now I think we're in danger, so that word fits better."
Paco hugged me tighter.
"But… but…"
He couldn't find the words; the short circuit in his analytical mind was obvious.
"I think she's jealous. Very jealous."
"Who?"
"The writer. Carmina. Married to some guy named Alberto. Doesn't ring a bell?"
When I said Alberto, the cold just vanished. Suddenly I felt that she was no longer there. Carmina had left us alone.
Paco shook his head.
"Doesn't ring a bell at all."
"I thought she was with you guys too. That you let her use this house like you did with me, so she could write in peace."
"No. I got the house a few months ago through an agency. I didn't know it had already been used for the same thing."
I put my hand over his heart. It was pumping really hard and way too fast.
"Paco, you're not going to have a heart attack, are you?"
"No, no. I'm as healthy as a horse."
I pushed him gently so he would sit back down on the couch and I curled up next to him, curled into a ball so he wouldn't have to see my erect dick. I gently rested my head on his right leg. He put his hand on my neck.
"What a fucking scare," he said.
I smiled. Whenever I got scared, I said those exact same words.
"Don't worry. If she shows up again, I'll mention her idiot husband. It seems the memory makes her run away terrified."
Paco pointed at the Scrabble board with the hand he had on my neck.
"Did she write the You haven't gotten rid of me yet part?"
I nodded.
"Right before you got here."
"I thought it was something you had written thinking about Bruno."
"No, no. It was her. In fact, we even had a little sex."
"Sex?"
"Carmina is really horny. Looks like everything Alberto didn't give her in life, she's looking for now in death."
"This makes no sense, Cristóbal. It can't be real."
"I assure you it is."
We stayed silent for a while. I was still hard as fuck. I wondered if I liked Paco. Originally, my intention was to throw him off, not fuck him. But it had started the same way with the priest and he had ended up sucking me off with way too much drool. Paco was different. I knew him. I knew he was straight. He had a wife and a mistress. He had probably never been with men. It probably hadn't even crossed his mind. Then again, I was one to talk. Then I remembered something I had read on Reddit. The mechanisms triggered by danger and desire were the same. A traumatic scene like the sudden freezing of the room and the exploding bottle, something totally paranormal, had put me on high alert. And now my body was reacting with a massive hard-on. It was pure, rock-hard physiology. That thought made me relax. I stretched out on the couch, letting my erection broadcast to the world, hey, I'm right here. If Paco asked, I'd explain what I had read in that article. I rested my head again, this time a little higher up. Probably right on top of his package.
Paco didn't say a word. He didn't act surprised either, nor did he make any jokes about the size of my dick. I would have loved for him to say, well, it wasn't that small, but he didn't give me the satisfaction.
I settled in over his package, increasingly aware of where I had placed my head. I know. I'm a piece of work. But it was only natural for me to shift around a bit. I was still cold after Carmina's little scene.
After a few minutes, Paco spoke.
"Cristóbal..."
"Mmm?"
"Cristóbal... You should..."
"What?"
"You should..."
"Do you want me to get up?" I helped him out.
"No... But maybe you should put your head back where you had it before."
I tried not to smile because he would see it.
"Why?" I asked, all innocence. I know. I'm a son of a bitch.
"Because it's impossible for you not to notice that your pillow is getting uncomfortable."
What a wonderful way to avoid naming an erection.
"Ah, so there was another elephant in the room."
"It seems so."
"Well, I haven't noticed a thing," I teased him, throwing his jab about my size right back at him, and rubbing my cheek all over his hard cock.
"Cristóbal."
"Yeah?"
"Please don't keep doing that."
"Why?"
His answer surprised me in a very pleasant way.
"Because your mother would kill us."
Because my mother would kill us. He had just skipped forty preliminary steps. He was already at the I could sleep with you right now, Cristóbal stage. I had to take advantage of that. It was the perfect opportunity to get some real experience. Plus, I was still hard as a rock. My body was reacting very well to this man.
"Do you see my mother around here, Paco?"
"Not really, no."
"Then let's do it. I'm dying to suck your cock."
That surprised him a lot.
"Really?"
"Really. It's going to be the first one I suck, and it feels pretty damn big."
"It is..."
"Should I take it out, or are you going to?"
"I don't know. You take it out."
"Okay."
I was prepared for him to change his mind at any moment, but once again he pleasantly surprised me. He didn't say a word to stop it. It didn't even occur to him to mention he was married to try and stop me. Maybe because he knew that I already knew, and he knew that I also knew he had a mistress he was fucking every day. The point is, he had accepted that this was going to happen and had embraced it gladly.
I unbuckled his belt. I undid the button and unzipped his fly. He lifted his ass a bit so I could pull his pants down, and I pulled them all the way down to his ankles. I hadn't pulled both garments—pants and boxers—down on purpose. I wanted to make him suffer a little. With the erection he had right now, his boxers were stretched so tight that you could see his massive balls spilling out the sides of the insufficient gray fabric. My dick got as hard as the head of a ceramic Virgin Mary statue. It was fucking delightful. I don't know why doing that was making me so hot, or why the idea hadn't appealed to me before staying in this house. It was still a fucking mystery.
"Take it out," Paco asked, starting to get tired of my stalling.
"What's the rush?"
"Right now, all of it. What if your writer friend comes back? If she got like that over a hug, imagine how she'll react to a blowjob..."
"Good point," I commented, and pulled his boxers down with the same care as his pants. A gigantic, precum-soaked head bumped against my nose.
"Holy shit, what a fucking cock," I blurted out.
"I told you."
"That's going to dislocate my jaw for sure."
"I don't think so. But try it. You're taking too long."
I was surprised by how good it smelled and I told him so.
"Well, I just showered."
"Well, you smell like pure testosterone, it's amazing."
"Must be my good genetics."
I buried my face in his massive balls and inhaled deeply. I started to feel my heartbeat in the tip of my dick, hammering harder and harder.
"Paco, I'm getting hotter than I've ever been in my fucking life."
"Then come on. Take advantage. It's all yours."
I grabbed it with my left hand while running my tongue up from his balls to the head. I scooped up the precum with my tongue and tasted it. I had tasted my own for many years, but tasting another man's felt like the horniest thing I had ever done. Finally, I took that whole massive piece of meat between my lips and tried going down to see how far I could get.
Paco's fucking cock was a monster; it filled my entire mouth with meat. It was wonderful. I took in more and more cock while weighing his balls in my hand. God, this was so much fun. An amusement park. I had gone too deep and gagged, which made a good amount of saliva I had been holding in my mouth spill out all over his balls.
"Fuck, so good, boy," Paco said.
I couldn't agree more. Then we heard a noise in the kitchen.
"What's that?" Paco asked, though you could tell he wasn't really in the mood to get scared by the writer right now.
I popped his cock out of my mouth to answer:
"I think it's the blender. But don't pay it any fucking attention."
"And why is she turning something on in the kitchen if we're in here?"
"To make you imagine what she'd be blending right now and kill your mood."
"She's crazy, isn't she?"
"She's crazy for a good fucking, that's for sure."
I took that tremendous cock back into my mouth and started laughing.
"What?" Paco asked, laughing too.
"You were talking about the tremendous house. This is tremendous. You kept this really well hidden, you bastard."
"Would you have made a move on me if you'd seen my cock earlier?"
"I might have turned gay a lot sooner."
And I went back to sucking like it was my sworn duty.
Paco stroked my face with such tenderness while I ate him out, it was driving me crazy. For a moment my mind drifted to Bruno, and I shoved him aside. Who needs Bruno with this guy on my couch and this massive cock in my mouth? I thought.
Something fell to the floor behind us. I paused that delicious blowjob I was giving him for a second to say:
"A book."
Something shattered near the bathroom.
"The glass from a picture frame. Of some ducks."
A lightbulb exploded right above our heads.
"A lightbulb," I said.
"Yeah, I saw that one," Paco said. "She's getting really pissed off, isn't she?"
"It's because I suck cock really well."
"You sure fucking do..."
I kept sucking him off while Carmina tore our house apart.
I discovered that every time I squeezed his balls a little, a bit of precum would leak out. I found it curious; that didn't happen to me. Maybe Paco was just so much of a man that he was pouring out masculinity at all hours. His boxers must always be wet with precum. I imagined sucking on a pair of Paco's dirty boxers and got even filthier.
"We're going to have a problem, Paco."
"Just one?"
"Every time I go see you at the publishing house, I'm going to want you to give me cock."
"That won't be a problem, I assure you."
"Because you won't let me taste it?"
"Because we'll find where and when."
That answer from Paco, promising more moments like this one, made me very happy, but it pissed Carmina off beyond belief. The cold started to grow around us again, but for the moment our body heat was eating it up without a problem, just like I was eating my editor's fucking wonderful, precum-leaking cock.
"Can you last a long time?" I asked him after another ten minutes of sucking cock like there was no tomorrow.
"Are you tired already?" Paco said.
"No, not at all. I could suck this my whole life."
"I can last as long as you want. Whenever you want milk, I'll give it to you."
"Don't you want to touch me?" I asked him. He had stroked my face, my neck, and my hair, but he hadn't gone any further. I wondered if he felt weird about touching my dick.
Paco didn't answer.
"What's wrong? Come on, we trust each other," I told him.
"Yeah..."
"Yeah what."
"I'd touch you..."
"But..."
"I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."
Holy shit. Look at how sweet he was.
"You can touch whatever the fuck you want, Paco. Can't you see you've got me hot as a fucking bitch in heat? Anything you do to me, I'm going to love."
"Okay."
Paco pooled spit in the palm of his hand and stretched his torso and arm to get a good reach to my ass. He planted his spit-slicked fingers on my hole and started moving them with what I could only describe as "gentleness." As soon as he touched me with those thick fingers that nevertheless moved so extremely softly, my horniness shot up by I don't know how many percent. Up until that moment I thought I was in heaven, but suddenly everything before was just a little appetizer compared to this. His caresses at the gates of my asshole, with no need or rush to get inside, made me want to swallow massive cock even more eagerly than before. I filled my whole fucking mouth with cock and started manufacturing saliva, letting it drip over his shaft as if I had suddenly opened up the factory. Paco started rolling his hips against my mouth when he saw my blowjob becoming deep and spasmodic, never stopping the pleasure from those thick fingers he'd occasionally re-coat with spit. I realized I had entered desperate blowjob mode, just like the priest did with me when I squeezed his nipples. Paco's massive cock gleamed, soaked in my spit; his ball hairs caught it in certain spots and let it drip down in others right onto the couch. I noticed Paco was laughing while he gently fucked my mouth with his hip thrusts. It made him happy to see that he had taken me to a whole new level of the game, one I hadn't known yet.
I lost track of time. Things kept breaking all around us like in the opening credits of The Good Fight, where a bunch of furniture, purses, and phones blew up in the air while wonderful music played, but not a single piece of glass or wood touched us. I started to wonder if Carmina was jealous or if she was just celebrating the fuck in her own way.
There came a point where I needed more, but I wasn't exactly sure what else. I took Paco's free hand and guided it to my right nipple, and with my right hand, I pushed Paco's other hand against my ass to let him know he could go further. While he drew exquisite pleasure from one of my nipples, he slipped what I think were two fingers very slowly into my asshole. I swallowed them without a problem. I pushed his hand harder and he started fucking my ass with his fingers. I squeezed his balls so he'd shoot more precum onto my tongue. I swallowed cock like a glutton. But it wasn't enough anymore. I wanted more. I wanted him inside.
I changed positions, straddled him facing forward, and slowly let myself drop onto his massive cock.
"Slowly, slowly," Paco whispered. "For the love of God, don't hurt yourself."
"No... No... No..."
Holy shit, I couldn't speak.
"No... you can't... hurt me."
Right at that moment, hearing myself unable to string two words together while impaling myself on his massive cock, I remembered Malcolm's friend in the wheelchair, who had a hell of a time saying two words in a row, and I started laughing my ass off while literally getting my ass torn apart.
The look on Paco's face was priceless.
With the uncontrollable laughter, I had gone all the way down and had the whole massive cock inside me, and I couldn't stop laughing. But I couldn't breathe either.
Paco looked at me with concern, but at the same time, my laughter was rubbing off on him.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Ma... Ma... Malcolm."
"Malcolm?"
"In... in the... middle."
It took me almost five minutes to recover from that laughing fit, which worked out great for letting my ass get used to that impressive cock. What a massive piece of meat I had to go and find to get my hole popped. Of course, my laughing fit also made me think of Bruno's when he imagined us together. I wished he would appear outside, behind the window, and see me riding Paco. Paco would ask, and who is that? And I would answer: Nobody, a neighbor who always catches me either jerking off or fucking. Seems to be our dynamic. It would have been the most predictable plot twist. Bruno watching me fuck someone else and discovering he had feelings for me. Then, yeah. Now he'd have a fucking reason to look at me with disgust and run off into the woods, not on the day of the fucking squirrel party.
Paco, meanwhile, was still inside me, hard as a rock. That monstrous phallus was a marvel. He gave me all the time in the world to get over my fit while he gently tuned the radio dial on my nipples. When I was finally back from my crazy fucking head, I started riding his cock. Paco threw his head back and his eyes rolled up. I was going up and down a lot slower than I had expected because it was really a lot of cock for my poor hole. We both had to use a lot more spit, but there came a point where it became fast and incredibly satisfying. I don't know when I started repeating his name, but every time I went all the way down, right to his fat, hairy balls, a Paco escaped my mouth. Since I was going at full speed, the air filled with Paco, Paco, Paco, Paco, Paco, and every time he heard his name, his fucking cock seemed to grow even more, which made my Pacos deeper and more desperate. There came a point where, between one Paco and the next, I started kissing him. And there came another point where there were no more Pacos, only more kisses.
I also don't know when the house started to shake. All I know is that at the absolute peak of the fuck, the ceiling creaked and a crack appeared from side to side. Paco crossed himself when he saw it, thinking the upstairs bedroom was going to fall on top of us, but I was about to come and I couldn't stop for such a trivial detail.
"Paco, Paco, Pacoooooo," I started again.
"What did you say the writer's husband's name was?"
"Alberto, Paco, Alberto."
"Alberto, Alberto!" Paco yelled.
"Paco, Paco!" I yelled.
The house was creaking.
"Alberto is coming!" Paco yelled. Maybe he meant that he was about to come at any second, but he was saying it like that to appease Carmina.
"Pacoooooooooooo."
The thing is, it worked. The earthquake stopped right at the exact moment I spilled spectacularly all over Paco's chest, beard, and lips. Paco stuck his tongue out to taste my milk while he came in silent spasms deep inside my guts. I ate his mouth while I was still emptying myself and tasted the flavor of my own jizz on his lips.
We might have stayed like that for another fifteen minutes, skewered, plugged in, connected, kissing. Then we hugged with him still inside, still hard as a fucking, inexplicable monolith splitting me wide open. And he wasn't saying Alberto anymore, but Cristóbal.
Cristóbal, Cristóbal, Cristóbal...
Author's Note: This scene is a sneak peek from my upcoming novel, Instructions for Madness. If you enjoyed this mix of explicit smut, dark humor, and absolute madness, you don't have to wait for the release to read more of my work. My anthology STAINED features 6 complete dark MM thrillers designed to mess with your head and keep you awake at night. Don't just read the stories on a screen. Get the paperback and stain the pages.🔍 Search for "STAINED by Marcos Sanz" on Amazon (or Apple Books, Kobo, etc.), or read it right now with your Everand subscription.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
