It had become a badly overused Halloween cliche, partying the night away in a supposedly haunted house. The house in question was actually a long aban...oned motel, and the story attached to it was the typical far fetched tale of brutal murder followed by equally gory revenge from the grave. There were numerous variations in circulation, changing over time like Chinese whispers but the basics, the core of the story, remained surprisingly consistent through the generations, Back in the 1920s a. “Yeah!”“Here,” the stepdad handed him a can of Pringles.“Thank you!”“It’s a lottery drawin’ tonight.”“Good luck!”“If I win, you gon’ run away wit’ me.”“Yes, sir!”“Dat’s wassup,” he smacked Rumi’s butt and went back to the living room.Lanique got home around 5:30. She had the baby with her. She went into the kitchen and started a pot of water to boil the pasta. She went into the master bathroom and took a very brief shower. She came back out wearing a cotton pajama set with a light blue knit top. It wasn’t only the battle that was important here, but I knew that once the mock fighting was over, the participants would gather in the huge church and celebrate the day when their town had been saved from the marauding army of Moors. ‘Won’t your friends be worried? Will they be looking for you?’ ‘I don’t know,’ I murmured. ‘The house we’re renting is right on the edge of town. It’s not far so I think they’ll just assume I’ll head back after the celebrations.’ The crowd had thinned out by now. Moving my finger up and down along the cleft, I began pressing in just a bit, again, just making sure she didn't object, after all, she hadn't really said I could finger-fuck her, but she just kept doing me so I just kept doing her."Remembering it now, James? All those years ago?" Oh, not really, this is so much nicer. And I'm getting to make you feel nice, too." That you are. I've sometimes wondered why I never went any further than that one time I jacked you off. Well, maybe I should try to.