Fred s Day in Petticoats
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Legend Of The Five Petticoats Inn free porn video
I knew the house was going to be a fixer-upper when I saw it on Zillow. According to the price and tax history, the home had sat vacant for long periods of time between buyers. The house was built in 1870 and still had, “good bones” as the television house DIY people would say.
I work a second job on my days off from the firehouse. Recently, I decided to quit working a part-time job and enjoy an open schedule and free-time.
I bought the house knowing I would have to do quite a bit of renovation. So, in essence, I would be working a part-time job, but it would be totally for my benefit.
While living in an apartment, in a not so nice part of the city, I decided I needed to get a place away from the hustle and bustle. The apartment was nice, but, new tenants came and went monthly. It was tiring having to hear and evade the same question of, “What is the worse thing you have seen as a firefighter?” Helping people is what I do for a living, but sometimes, it’s good to get away and be alone. Having a house, especially one that needs work, will accomplish my much-needed isolation.
The house is located in a small town, approximately 30 minutes west of the city. My commute to work would be a 45-minute drive, but, that would only happen every third day. I would be far enough away from the city lights to see the stars in the sky at night, but close enough to meet people for a night on the town.
When I purchased the house, I asked the realtor if there is a history attached to the property. The only information she produced was past sales records that started in 1900.
“No hauntings or multi-dimensional ports associated with the house are there?” I asked in a half-joking manner.
“No, John,” she replied blandly, “it is an old house in an old town and you bought it for a very good price. That is all I know.”
After she handed me the keys, I drove to the house in order to admire my purchase.
How could she not know the history of the house, I thought, I found the entire history in less than ten minutes at the library.
When I saw a picture of this house, I was determined it was going to be mine. Being a bit of a nerd, I went to the local library and researched the history of the town and house. Hidden deep in the archives, saved on microfiche, I found an article titled: The legend of the Five Petticoats Inn.
The house was built by a rich railroad tycoon. He lived in the house from 1870-1890. He was a very unique individual, in that he was generous, kind, and cared about the town. He decided to downsize when his two children married and had families of their own. So, he and his wife had a smaller house built in a neighboring town and moved.
Speculation was, he was encouraged by his wife that they move towns because of the seedy people that inhabited the area.
Due to the size and cost of the house, it sat empty for five years. In 1895 a lady that came to be known as “Mama Five”, bought the house with cash and turned it into a brothel. She named it, “The Five Petticoats Inn.”
She brought three ladies with her and became a popular stop for cowhands, traveling salesmen, and outlaws. By this time, ranchers were shipping their cattle from the town and because of the cattle drives, Mama Five and her ladies became very wealthy women.
Mama Five was respected by the majority of the townspeople, even though she conducted a type of business the respectable people in the town disapproved. She was known to help anyone that needed food or shelter, a kind ear to listen, and sage advice from someone that has been to the well and back.
The men that visited The Five Petticoats Inn knew they would pay premium prices for the services the ladies rendered. The women were beautiful, erotic, and knew how to please the men in ways they had never experienced.
Men at that time were used to going into a brothel, pay for services, take the woman in the room, and have sex. Mama Five taught her ladies the art of seduction. She made them wear five petticoats under their gowns. When they took the men into their rooms, they would work the men to a sexual frenzy by performing a striptease. First, the men would be allowed to unfasten the gown and assist with removing it from the gal. Then, the lady would remove one petticoat at a time with a tease or touch in between. For example, after dropping the first petticoat she would walk over and kiss him while guiding his hand to her breasts. She would step away and out of his reach as she would drop another petticoat. She may stroke him through his pants after the second was dropped. These actions would continue until she was totally naked in front of him. After telling him, he paid for a service and she was going to perform the service, she would strip him and begin to please him with her mouth. Eventually, he would be allowed to enter her and they would commence to the act of fornication.
One day, three members of a gang rode into town. After pouring rot whiskey down their throats at the saloon, they ventured to The Five Petticoats Inn. Mama Five introduced her three ladies to the men, collected the fee from each, then returned to the parlor.
All three men strangled and murdered the women they were assigned. Mama five was unaware of the killings until the men were gone. A posse was formed but the men were never caught. Mama Five ended up leaving the house after burying her girls and never returned.
A banker from the next town, a young gentleman that turned the heads of many ladies, bought the house and lived in it for a year. He claimed it was haunted and would hear moaning when he laid in bed or entered the bath.
Buyer after buyer claimed similar experiences. Some accounts mentioned things falling or flying off of shelves and hitting ladies that lived in or were guests of the house. There were no accounts of men receiving the same type of treatment.
“It is an impressive piece of architecture,” I said aloud as I stood looking at it from the porch to the pinnacle. The two-story home with an attic had a second-floor patio with iron latticework that spanned the front of the house. It was built in the New England gothic style. It was one of many structures built in the gothic style in the little town and I was fortunate enough to buy the one with a hidden history.
“Well, you men loving ghosts, here I come,” I said as I stepped on the porch and unlocked the front door.
I walked in and sighed with the knowledge I was in possession of my own home. Looking forward to the work I would have to do in order to make it habitable, I pulled out a notebook and began to make a list of supplies.
A sense of comfort filled me as I walked room to room. I felt as if the house itself embraced me and accepted my presence. It may sound weird that a house welcomed me with open arms, but, there is no other way to describe the feeling. Well, there were other feelings too, but I will get to them a little later.
The day was warm and the inside of the house was stuffy and humid. The air conditioning unit needed to be replaced and all of the windows had been screwed shut in order to keep vagrants and druggies from using the house as a stopping point.
Being alone, I decided to take off my shirt and finish the walkthrough. As a firefighter, I take care of myself. However, I am not built as a calendar firefighter. My chest is hairy, you can almost see my abs when I flex really, really hard, and I do not walk around with the nozzle of a firehose while having a sexy smoldering look on my face.
When I took my shirt off, I heard a moaning sound in the dining room. I turned the corner thinking someone had gotten in and saw the ragged curtains in front of the windows swaying.
“Just the wind through the leaky windows.” I thought as I jotted, “New windows” on the paper.
There were other moaning and skittering sounds as I continued to walk through the house.
“Mousetraps, caulking, window coverings…” my list continued.
Fortunately, the plumbing worked. I had drunk four bottles of water while in the house and had to go relieve myself. The bathroom across the hall from what was to be my main bedroom did not have a door. After writing, “bathroom door”, along with the measurements, I sat the notebook down then unzipped my pants. I felt the pressure in the room change as if a group of people pressed next to me.
I pulled down my shorts and boxer briefs and began to pee. Once I had exposed myself, it seemed the air in the room reversed as if the room itself gasped.
Chalking the entire incident to the wind finding its way through the cracks and gaps in the house, I thought nothing of the situation. Well, that is not entirely true. I have a very active imagination and I imagined it was the house gasping at me while I stood there holding my cock. It could not hold back its amazement that I was shirtless and was as endowed as I was. I chuckled at the thought because, as much as I have an active imagination, I am also a realist and know that I do not have a porn star hanging to my knees length, and fingers can’t close around the girth sized wee-wee. I am comfortable with my size and find it humorous that guys will brag about themselves.
Once I had my shaft back in my undies, hands washed, and shirt back on, I headed to the home improvement store so I could buy the supplies on the list. While en route, I thought about the research I had done on the house prior to buying. Evidently, the realtor wanted to make a quick sale and didn’t want to scare me away by disclosing the unfortunate and terrible scene that happened long ago.
While looking at different types of window coverings I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Lynne, a nurse I had been talking to and trying to woo. My attempts at flirting are comical. I think I am a better conversationalist than I am a smooth-line, fake compliment, pickup line, type guy.
“Hi, John,” she said.
“Hi, Lynne. Good to see you.” I replied as a big smile formed on my face.
“Window blinds, huh?” She said as she looked at the display in front of me.
“Yeah, I just bought a place and I am trying to decide what types of window coverings would be best. I am horrible at interior design and have no idea what to choose.” I said as I turned to look at the choices in front of me.
“I have some free time if you would like me to take a look at your place and make a suggestion.”
“That would be great,” I said, “Would you like to ride with me, follow me, or give you the address and you can get there when you like?”
“I can follow you if you are ready to leave now.”
I was not going to allow this opportunity to pass. Lynne had flirted with me in a little banter the last time I saw her. She had never reciprocated to the level where I thought she would be interested in going out. So, I had made up my mind that I would ask her out once we were back at my place.
“Great place,” she said as she walked through the front door and looked around.
“Thanks,” I said as I closed the door, “It will take a little bit of work. I plan on working on the master bedroom first so I can move in, then I will work on other parts when I have time. I think I can have the room finished in two or three days.”
Surprisingly, she turned and began to kiss me. Her fists clenched at my chest as she filled her hands with my shirt. She pulled me in tight to her as our mouths filled with each other’s tongues.
“I have wanted you for a long time,” she said breathlessly, “I was afraid to let you know how I felt.”
She had pulled my shirt off and began to lower herself down. While her hands unbuckled my belt, she leaned over while sucking and biting my nipples.
I let out a little moan as she got to her knees and lowered my pants and underwear. I was fully erect and throbbing as she wrapped her hand around me. Her lips closed around my head and suddenly I felt the air leave the room. I heard moaning sounds as she began to take me deep into her mouth.
“What was that?” I asked suddenly.
“What was what?” she said as she pulled me out and looked up at me?
“Uh, never mind,” I said, “Would you like to go upstairs?”
“Yes,” she said as she licked me from balls to tip, “I would.”
She took my hand and I led her to the stairs. As we passed a bookshelf, an old wooden figurine left from the previous owner, tumbled off the shelf and hit her on the shoulder.
“Ouch,” she said as she jumped back, “that was weird.”
I turned to look at her then pulled her down on the staircase just as a finial from the banister broke free and hurled itself at her. It hit the wall with a resounding knock then rolled down the stairs.
“What is going on?” she exclaimed with wide eyes and a frightened look on her face. “I have to go!”
She got up, grabbed her purse she left next to the front door, and exited the house on a run.
I sat on the stairs, naked, and shaking my head in disbelief. I didn’t believe in poltergeist, ghosts, or the boogeyman, but, I was perplexed at the events that had just occurred. The moaning sounds continued at a dull drone as I returned to my clothes and dressed.
Tilting my head to the ceiling, I jokingly said, “Look, I am lonely, single, and have a very difficult time with my shyness when it comes to women. If you are going to act up like this every time I have a chance to experience pleasure, we are going to have some issues. So, if I get another chance with Lynne, you had better behave, or else I will do more than cosmetic work on you.”
My little rant and threat to the house did nothing to help my chance with Lynne. Over the next month, I saw her three different times in the ER and all she would do was give me a quick small then walk the other way.
Each day that I had off from the firehouse, I was working on a different project. Unfortunately, Lynne left before she made a suggestion on the best window covering, so I hung vertical blinds on all of the windows. I had the music cranked to eleven all of the time while I was working. If the moaning continued, I would not have never been able to hear it.
One night, however, I had awakened because I had a wet dream. I have only had two wet dreams prior to that night. Both of those dreams occurred in high school. I remember the first one was when I was dreaming about a female rock star that decided to pull my shorts down while I was laying in bed and the other was of a popular high school girl that decided to pull my shorts down while I was laying in bed. Both of those dreams caused me to wake up with a sticky mess in my whitey tighties.
This dream was realistic and much more erotic than the thought of a hot female looking up at me seductively while pulling down my shorts.
I dreamt I was laying in bed and three ladies entered my room. They wore hats with large plumes, colorful gowns fluffed with petticoats and high laced boots.
All three stood at the side of my bed and began to strip. Each boot was unlaced and removed. Their hats were tossed to the side after they removed the hatpins. Standing in their stocking feet, they helped one another unfasten one another’s gowns. Once they were removed and discarded, they began to remove their petticoats.
In my dream, I knew they were each wearing five petticoats. Each of the women took their turns with me. Rubbing, sucking, licking, and creating many pleasurable experiences. When I came, I was dreaming one was sitting on my face, moaning as my tongue explored her holes, another was riding me and moaning as she reached orgasm after orgasm, and the third had her legs open and my fingers were entering her holes causing her to moan and twitch with her orgasms.
When I came, my hot liquid landed on my face and chest. The landing of my cum woke me up and snapped me back to reality. “A wet dream?” I asked myself.
I had no idea the legend of the house was so ingrained in my head that the story would cause me to have a wet dream.
Things progressed nicely over the following months. Projects were getting completed, new ones started, and the moanings continued.
I was introduced to and started dating Becky Seer. The wife of a friend of mine told me that I needed to go out with her, we would be perfect together, she is sensitive, and she would make me happy. Typically, I shy away from matchmaking, however, loneliness is not a companion I like to keep around. So, I agreed to meet her. We hit it off instantly and have been dating for two months now.
I was very hesitant about taking her to my house. She was someone I wanted to get to know and spend a lot of time with and did not want whatever was in my house to scare her away. The thought of us sitting together on the couch, watching a movie, and snuggled up was something I wanted to experience with her. But, that same picture with her dodging books, wall hangings, and shoes during her visit did not sit well with me.
She lived with three other gals and there would be no way we could get any time to sit and watch a movie at her place. I was running out of excuses to take her to mine, so, one day I agreed to take her to my place.
To say I was on pins and needles when we walked in would be an understatement. She picked up on my uneasiness and asked me what was wrong.
Being a level headed person, I didn’t want to tell her there is a history of this house being haunted and it only attacked women. But, being an honest person and not wanting to hide anything from her, I felt like she needed to know about the oddities that have occurred.
As I took her on a tour of the house, I decided to tell her about the history of the house and about the sounds I have heard. I thought it was best to not tell her that Lynne got chased out for starting to give me a blowjob and I had a wet dream by thinking I was being seduced by the three prostitutes that had lived here. So, I left those parts out.
I was surprised by how well she took the supernatural story.
“I could see that happening here,” she said, “I like the house, it almost felt like the house embraced us as we walked in. Also, it kind of made me tingly.” She winked at me then continued to look at the rest of the house. Fortunately, nothing happened during that visit. No moanings or flying objects.
She would visit during the day and help me with some projects, have a meal, or just hang out. I was very conscious about the amount of physical contact we had between us while at the house, just in case something was to happen. But, our relationship was becoming more intimate outside the house and I knew, eventually, we would not be able to control our hormones at all times in the house.
Then one evening, I became enlightened.
We had gone out to dinner and had gotten back to my house quite late. I invited her to stay the night but jokingly told her that I couldn’t control what the ghosts would do to her.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said, “I’m a big girl.”
We laughed, kissed, then headed to the parlor to snuggle and watch some TV.
Having her body next to mine was a temptation I had to give in to. I would lean down and kiss her neck, slide my hand under her shirt and caress her side, tummy, and back. I could hear moans begin once she turned her body, straddle my leg, and rub on me while we were kissing.
As she sat up and began to take off her shirt, she looked over at the bookcase and shook her head.
“Put that down,” she said, “there is no need for you to do that. You can watch but you know you will still have him after I go home tomorrow. That’s it, put it down. You can come closer if you want.”
“Who are you talking to,” I asked?
“You weren’t kidding about the ghosts,” she said as she continued to look at the bookcase, “One of them was going to throw that book at me.”
“Don’t laugh at me, you stinker.” She said as she put her hands on her hips.
“You, you actually see them,” I asked as I sat up, “They are right here?”
“One of them is here. I heard her moaning earlier but I couldn’t see her because I was too busy enjoying your touch.”
She turned towards the bookcase, “Are there only three of you here?” She asked, "where are the other two”?
Turning to me she said, “She nodded yes when I asked if there were only three and she pointed upstairs when I asked where the other two were. I think we should go upstairs so I can talk with them. Maybe they would like a show, huh?”
Typically, I am not a man without words, but, for a few seconds, I had no words.
“Come on,” she said as she grabbed my hand. Then she turned to the bookcase and motioned with her other hand and said, “You too, come on.”
While going upstairs, I had the urge to tell her about my wet dream. She stopped, looked up to the ceiling, smiled, and asked, “Did you three cause him to do that?”
She shook her head and laughed as she continued to lead me to the bedroom.
“It wasn’t a dream, my dear,” she said laughing, “The three of them had their way with you while you slept. You have three very naughty and kinky ghosts living with you.”
“Wait, I am confused,” I said as we entered my bedroom, “You can see them, talk to them, and understand what they are saying”?
“Yes, I can see them, yes, I can talk to them, but, they cannot talk to me,” she said as she waved her hand towards my closet, “The other two are standing over there. Anyway, I ask yes or no questions, and they either nod or shake their heads.”
“How can you see them and hear their moanings? I can hear moaning but can’t see them at all.”
“I am a sensitive,” she said matter of factly, “I can sense, see, and hear spirits, ghosts, ghouls. Plus, my last name is not Seer, that is what everyone calls me because I am a Seer. I see things other people can’t.”
“I was told you were sensitive, they didn’t say you were a sensitive,” I said as I sat on my bed.
“They mess that up all of the time,” she said as she turned and faced the closet, “Give me a few seconds to explain us to them and I will be right back.”
I was amazed as I watched her have a conversation with three ghosts. It looked to me like she was standing in my room talking to the closet door. But, I could feel the air pressure change occasionally and small gusts of wind across my face, so I knew there were more than just me and Becky in the room.
“Ok, John my dear, you have no need to worry about things getting thrown at me. I have given them permission to watch us but not join. At least not yet.”
“Not yet,” I exclaimed, “Wait, we haven’t even gone all of the way and you are giving ghost permission to join us? I don’t know about that, I mean a ghost.”
She put her finger over my mouth and said, “Shhh, you already had sex with all three of them, remember”?
“That was a dream,” I said defensively, “A wet dream, it wasn’t real.”
She looked towards the closet and began laughing. A deep and loud belly laugh.
“What’s so funny,” I asked?
“They are shaking their heads and laughing,” she said between her own fits of laughter, “that was no dream.”
Once she convinced me she was going to be safe and they would not bother us while we played, I began to relax.
Becky, stood next to the bed, took off her shirt, then leaned into me and kissed me, biting my bottom lip as she pulled away. Then she took off one shoe then the other, leaned towards me, kissed me and raised my hand, and placed it on her breast.
She would look at the closet each time she would stand up, nod, then remove another article of clothing. I think the three ladies appreciated her act of remembering them. They began to moan as I removed my clothes and she laid next to me.
Our sounds of sex mingled with their echos of another life to create an erotic symphony. She would suck me till the point I would cum, then stop, edging me to a deep and satisfying feeling of aching pain in my sack.
The three lady's moans crescendoed to a feverish pitch as they watched my tongue swirl, lick, and enter her clit and two holes. Becky’s wetness covered my face and sheets. I edged her a few times but decided I wanted her to be pleased as much as she could handle.
I told her I wanted her to ride me. She climbed on top then stopped right before I entered her.
“Let’s turn to the side, put your feet on the floor.” She said as we began to reposition ourselves.
“Is that a better view,” she asked while looking over her shoulder, “Ok, remember, no touching this time.”
She lowered herself on me. I could feel her tight lips squeeze my cock as if it were trying to milk every ounce of cum I had in me. As she began to raise and lower herself on me, the moans, squeals, and wet skin slamming into each other propelled me to orgasm quicker than I anticipated.
“I’m going to cum,” I bellowed as I tried to lift her off of me.
She flattened her body onto mine and kept me inside of her while ribbon after ribbon of my lust laced her insides. She shuddered and bit my neck as she announced she was cumming too.
Becky rolled off of me, spread her legs, and opened her lips. “Doesn’t that look good?” She said as she dipped her fingers into her hole and pulled out a string of my cum.
More moaning filled the room as she dipped her finger and began to rub herself. She reached over, grabbed my hand, and began to have me stroke myself.
“They like this,” she said in a hoarse voice, “They are rubbing themselves as they watch us.”
I learned quite a few things that day. First of all, Becky is fantastic in bed, second, ghosts can enjoy sexual pleasure, and third, I have voyeur ghosts living in my house and it turns me on. Becky has moved in with me and we are engaged. There are times she will encourage the ladies to satisfy me while she watches. I can’t see them, but I can feel what they are doing to me. Becky masturbates while they are pleasing me. Watching her as they are rubbing and riding me has caused some of the most intense orgasms I have ever had.
Our playtime has become another part of the legend of The Five Petticoats Inn. However, unless the three ladies decide to tell others, it will remain an oral and aural legend.
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