Lord Long Rod
Diamond Member
- Jan 17, 2023
- 7,706
- 8,122
- 2,138
- Banned
- #1
I met this cute chick years ago at a Blockbuster Video store. We were both perusing the titles in the horror aisle. Neither one of us noticed each other until our hands touched as we simultaneously reached for the only copy of “Re-Animator”. Our eyes met and it was lust at first sight. I asked her over to my place to watch the flick together. She agreed. After screwing all night, we finally got to watch the film the next morning.
Her name was Ronnie Specter. She is into all things paranormal and creepy. While I am not big into all that bullshit, I found Ronnie’s interests to be refreshing and unlike what most chicks are into. Moreover, she was hotter than a pair of Nikes in downtown Baltimore! She had long, jet black hair. Her ass was perfect; D cups, and a face to die for. I will not bore you, gentle reader, with a lot of meaningless platitudes about love and other nonsense. We both were invested in our relationship for one thing only: hardcore banging.
One evening after pile driving Ronnie in the kitchen, we were lying there next to one another and talking. Ronnie said she wanted to go away together for the weekend. I immediately made a mental note that this was a potential red flag. She continued, telling me about some supposed haunted house that is being operated as a bed and breakfast in a nearby town. She thought we could go there and maybe interact with ghosts. Inside my head I was rolling my eyes. But, hell, as long as I am with Ronnie, schlonging her brains out, why do I care where we are at.
I should point out that I do not believe in ghosts or anything else paranormal. It’s just bullshit, in my opinion. That said, I will tell you that I saw some weird shit happen that night. Was it ghosts? I don’t know. But it was pretty weird.
The name of the B&B haunted house was “Satan’s Murder House”. It is built on top of an old Indian burial ground. Apparently, a civil war era confederate colonel named “Beaufort Ignatius Lee”, built the home. Before the civil war, he helped Andrew Jackson run the Seminole out of Florida. He earned the nickname “Injun Killer”. It is said that prior to building his home atop the Indian burial ground, he christened the project by pissing upon the hallowed ground. To make matters worse, after the civil war ended, the colonel killed all his negro slaves and buried them on the grounds.
The colonel escaped during reconstruction, fleeing to South America to spend his remaining years drinking tequila on the beach and banging hot Latina chicks. But with the colonel leaving with absolutely zero accountability for what he did to the Indians and slaves, the ghosts grew vengeful.
Now, ghosts are not too bright. See, all they know is that the colonel was white and they are either red or black. Thus, their vengeance was squarely aimed at white people. That’s right, dear reader. They are racist ghosts!
Now, I did not know all of this shit when I agreed to spend the night there as Ronnie’s twat filler. But I will tell you that I will never go back there (unless I am trying to bang a hot chick who is into this stupid shit).
When we got to our room Ronnie was all excited. She looked at me with a huge grin and asked, “What do you want to do first?!?” I already had my wang out before she queried. She said, “Not now. Let’s summon a dead spirit!! I will get my ouija board!!” Clearly, this ghost shit was going to interfere with me getting my Rod waxed. I sighed. I started thinking that I should have dumped this bitch and went fishing for the weekend.
Ronnie spent the next 4 hours conjuring up all manner of spirit, poltergeist, demon, and evil entity one could conceive of. At one point, there was what I can only assume was a physical manifestation of Lucifuge in the middle of our room. I just rolled my eyes and turned up the music from Bill Monroe I was listening to on my headphones.
My breaking point came at 3:00 am when Ronnie was dancing with some kind of headless demon thing. I took off my headphones and said, “Hey!! Ronnie!! How about a little bit of attention over here on the big guy? You know, the guy who paid for this bullshit!”. Ronnie knew she had to put out now if she wanted to continue playing with her little ghost friends.
We got to it. I don’t think she was too into it. But once I started lovingly plowing her ass she would get into it. No chick can resist my stroke. So there I am, about to enter from behind, when the damnedest thing happened: Ronnie levitated up off the bed and into the air, plum against the ceiling.
I said, “Goddamn it, Ronnie!! Get back down here!! I can’t fuck you on the ceiling!!!” Ronnie started freaking out, as apparently some spirit had taken control of her physical form. What’s more, this particular spirit, according to Ronnie was malevolent.
Ronnie cried to me, “Rod!! Help!! Get me down! This thing is trying to hurt me!!!” I asked her how she knew that. Whatever had a hold on her then repeatedly slammed her hard into the ceiling until the plaster started falling. I said, “Oh”.
I stood up on the bed, bare assed and sporting a nice woodie, grabbed Ronnie’s leg, and tried pulling her down off the ceiling. “Give me my pussy back, you ghost fuckers!!”, I said. But there was no way I could budge her. Meanwhile, Ronnie is crying hysterically. This confused me, as this is exactly why the bitch came here - to be scared shitless. Then, to make the night complete, Ronnie became literally scared shitless, all over the fucking bed!!
“Bitch!! GROSS!!!”, I said. Thankfully, I had managed to miss the bombardment. All of a sudden this weird lime green light appeared, encircling the bitch on the ceiling. Then, a fucking portal opened up and the bitch was sucked into it!! It suddenly slammed shut and all returned to normal.
“Well, shit. Who am I gonna bang NOW?!?”, I asked out loud. But as I was going through what bitch I could call something otherworldly happened to my bang stick. Warm and silky sensations filled my Johnson with pleasure. I knew immediately what was happening: I was getting blown. But there was nobody there!!!!
Obviously, some chicken-head ghost was blowing my fuck stick, and doing a good job! I decided not to sweat it and to enjoy, which I did. It was a hell of a lot better than anything Ronnie did for me. Hell, I was glad she got sucked into that I inter-dimensional portal. Fuck her!!! Lol!!
Finally, it was over, and I was spent. I sighed. After a couple moments of recovery I opened my eyes. There, on its knees before me, was a ghost, and I assume it to be the cock sucking ghost. But something was bad wrong. The blowjob ghost was a DUDE!!!
Boy, I was pissed!!! Had I know that was a guy ghost blowing me I would have NEVER let this happen. “You motherfucker!!!”, I said as I took a swing at the homo ghost. But my fist just went through him. The specter then stood, wiped its lips, and dematerialized, like fog on a hot summer morning.
“Motherfucker!!!”, I thought. This sure turned into a shitty trip!! I decided to pack my shit and leave. On the way out I stopped to have a word with the owner to lodge a complaint. “Your stupid fucking house kidnapped my girlfriend through a portal, then I got sexually assaulted by a homo ghost!!!”
The owner was sincerely sorry for what happened. He even refunded my money to my credit card. So at least there was that, a semi-happy ending. Of course, the best thing is that I got rid of Ronnie without having to go through a nasty breakup, giving me a fresh start!!
Her name was Ronnie Specter. She is into all things paranormal and creepy. While I am not big into all that bullshit, I found Ronnie’s interests to be refreshing and unlike what most chicks are into. Moreover, she was hotter than a pair of Nikes in downtown Baltimore! She had long, jet black hair. Her ass was perfect; D cups, and a face to die for. I will not bore you, gentle reader, with a lot of meaningless platitudes about love and other nonsense. We both were invested in our relationship for one thing only: hardcore banging.
One evening after pile driving Ronnie in the kitchen, we were lying there next to one another and talking. Ronnie said she wanted to go away together for the weekend. I immediately made a mental note that this was a potential red flag. She continued, telling me about some supposed haunted house that is being operated as a bed and breakfast in a nearby town. She thought we could go there and maybe interact with ghosts. Inside my head I was rolling my eyes. But, hell, as long as I am with Ronnie, schlonging her brains out, why do I care where we are at.
I should point out that I do not believe in ghosts or anything else paranormal. It’s just bullshit, in my opinion. That said, I will tell you that I saw some weird shit happen that night. Was it ghosts? I don’t know. But it was pretty weird.
The name of the B&B haunted house was “Satan’s Murder House”. It is built on top of an old Indian burial ground. Apparently, a civil war era confederate colonel named “Beaufort Ignatius Lee”, built the home. Before the civil war, he helped Andrew Jackson run the Seminole out of Florida. He earned the nickname “Injun Killer”. It is said that prior to building his home atop the Indian burial ground, he christened the project by pissing upon the hallowed ground. To make matters worse, after the civil war ended, the colonel killed all his negro slaves and buried them on the grounds.
The colonel escaped during reconstruction, fleeing to South America to spend his remaining years drinking tequila on the beach and banging hot Latina chicks. But with the colonel leaving with absolutely zero accountability for what he did to the Indians and slaves, the ghosts grew vengeful.
Now, ghosts are not too bright. See, all they know is that the colonel was white and they are either red or black. Thus, their vengeance was squarely aimed at white people. That’s right, dear reader. They are racist ghosts!
Now, I did not know all of this shit when I agreed to spend the night there as Ronnie’s twat filler. But I will tell you that I will never go back there (unless I am trying to bang a hot chick who is into this stupid shit).
When we got to our room Ronnie was all excited. She looked at me with a huge grin and asked, “What do you want to do first?!?” I already had my wang out before she queried. She said, “Not now. Let’s summon a dead spirit!! I will get my ouija board!!” Clearly, this ghost shit was going to interfere with me getting my Rod waxed. I sighed. I started thinking that I should have dumped this bitch and went fishing for the weekend.
Ronnie spent the next 4 hours conjuring up all manner of spirit, poltergeist, demon, and evil entity one could conceive of. At one point, there was what I can only assume was a physical manifestation of Lucifuge in the middle of our room. I just rolled my eyes and turned up the music from Bill Monroe I was listening to on my headphones.
My breaking point came at 3:00 am when Ronnie was dancing with some kind of headless demon thing. I took off my headphones and said, “Hey!! Ronnie!! How about a little bit of attention over here on the big guy? You know, the guy who paid for this bullshit!”. Ronnie knew she had to put out now if she wanted to continue playing with her little ghost friends.
We got to it. I don’t think she was too into it. But once I started lovingly plowing her ass she would get into it. No chick can resist my stroke. So there I am, about to enter from behind, when the damnedest thing happened: Ronnie levitated up off the bed and into the air, plum against the ceiling.
I said, “Goddamn it, Ronnie!! Get back down here!! I can’t fuck you on the ceiling!!!” Ronnie started freaking out, as apparently some spirit had taken control of her physical form. What’s more, this particular spirit, according to Ronnie was malevolent.
Ronnie cried to me, “Rod!! Help!! Get me down! This thing is trying to hurt me!!!” I asked her how she knew that. Whatever had a hold on her then repeatedly slammed her hard into the ceiling until the plaster started falling. I said, “Oh”.
I stood up on the bed, bare assed and sporting a nice woodie, grabbed Ronnie’s leg, and tried pulling her down off the ceiling. “Give me my pussy back, you ghost fuckers!!”, I said. But there was no way I could budge her. Meanwhile, Ronnie is crying hysterically. This confused me, as this is exactly why the bitch came here - to be scared shitless. Then, to make the night complete, Ronnie became literally scared shitless, all over the fucking bed!!
“Bitch!! GROSS!!!”, I said. Thankfully, I had managed to miss the bombardment. All of a sudden this weird lime green light appeared, encircling the bitch on the ceiling. Then, a fucking portal opened up and the bitch was sucked into it!! It suddenly slammed shut and all returned to normal.
“Well, shit. Who am I gonna bang NOW?!?”, I asked out loud. But as I was going through what bitch I could call something otherworldly happened to my bang stick. Warm and silky sensations filled my Johnson with pleasure. I knew immediately what was happening: I was getting blown. But there was nobody there!!!!
Obviously, some chicken-head ghost was blowing my fuck stick, and doing a good job! I decided not to sweat it and to enjoy, which I did. It was a hell of a lot better than anything Ronnie did for me. Hell, I was glad she got sucked into that I inter-dimensional portal. Fuck her!!! Lol!!
Finally, it was over, and I was spent. I sighed. After a couple moments of recovery I opened my eyes. There, on its knees before me, was a ghost, and I assume it to be the cock sucking ghost. But something was bad wrong. The blowjob ghost was a DUDE!!!
Boy, I was pissed!!! Had I know that was a guy ghost blowing me I would have NEVER let this happen. “You motherfucker!!!”, I said as I took a swing at the homo ghost. But my fist just went through him. The specter then stood, wiped its lips, and dematerialized, like fog on a hot summer morning.
“Motherfucker!!!”, I thought. This sure turned into a shitty trip!! I decided to pack my shit and leave. On the way out I stopped to have a word with the owner to lodge a complaint. “Your stupid fucking house kidnapped my girlfriend through a portal, then I got sexually assaulted by a homo ghost!!!”
The owner was sincerely sorry for what happened. He even refunded my money to my credit card. So at least there was that, a semi-happy ending. Of course, the best thing is that I got rid of Ronnie without having to go through a nasty breakup, giving me a fresh start!!
