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  I turned to my wife. ‘It’s not much of a place …’ I stopped in surprise at the expression on her face. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be listening intently.

  ‘What is it?’

  Her eyes snapped open, and blood rushed to her face. Her whole body shuddered and she gasped as if in pain.

  I moved quickly across and she collapsed into my arms.

  ‘What is it, Jo? What’s wrong?’

  She clung to me, breathing hard, and then pushed herself upright.

  ‘I came,’ she whispered. Her face was still blood red.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I came. I just had a fantastic orgasm.’

  I stared at her.

  ‘An orgasm? But how? I mean …’

  She shook her head, slowly, and looked unseeingly at me.

  ‘I don’t know. There was the chanting and then I was coming so hard I …but something…’

  She stopped and shivered. The gloom intensified and the dank wooden hut seemed to shrink around us.

  ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ I took her hand and moved towards the door. For a moment she resisted, then followed me outside, where pale sunshine was beginning to disperse the morning mist.

  We walked back to the house, where the agent was still waiting, in silence.

  ‘Well, what did you think of the summerhouse?’ he enquired hopefully.

  ‘I didn’t…’ I began but got no further.

  ‘It’s lovely!’

  Joanne smiled brightly at the somewhat surprised man. ‘And you’re right – our daughter will love it. We’ll be in touch with you very soon to make an offer on the house. Come on, darling.’

  She took my hand and pulled me towards the door.

  We walked to the car in silence and got in. I turned to her.

  ‘That was a bit sudden, wasn’t it? I mean, I know we agreed we like the place, but it is the first one we’ve really looked at…’

  She smiled dreamily at me.

  ‘It’s perfect, darling. You’ll see.’

  I looked closely at her.

  ‘Jo, are you OK? What happened in the summerhouse? What did you hear?’

  An odd, sly expression flickered across her face and was gone. She moved closer to me.

  ‘Just some singing, darling. I expect I imagined it.’

  She moved her hand on to my knee.

  ‘Don’t start the engine yet. Wait until he’s gone.’

  She nodded through the side window towards the agent, who was getting into his car. He waved as he drove past us up the driveway and out of sight.

  Joanne’s hand was on my crotch now, and her fingers were playing with my cock through my pants.

  ‘Jo…’

  ‘Hush, baby. Relax. It’s your turn.’

  Her voice was hypnotic and my cock was getting hard.

  I felt my pants being unbuttoned and unzipped and then cool fingertips stroked my hot flesh and I groaned softly. I sagged back in the seat and closed my eyes.

  ‘He’s so hard, baby. So very hard. And I’m so horny.’

  Her breath tickled my ear, and her perfume made my head swim. Soft lips kissed the tip of my cock, and very slowly moved down the shaft until it was deep in her throat. Some misgiving stirred inside me, and vanished as she began to suck.

  Lips, fingers and tongue combined to build me to a slow climax until I came, shuddering and gasping, blasting jet after jet of hot fluid into my wife’s mouth.

  After I’d driven home, still trembling after the intensity of my orgasm, I tried to tackle Joanne again about what had happened.

  It wasn’t as if we didn’t have a good sex life, but a daylight blowjob in the front seat of the car was hardly the norm.

  She brushed the whole episode aside.

  ‘It was the excitement, darling. The thought of living in that lovely house. We will buy it, won’t we?’

  ‘Well, maybe, but I think we should be careful before we jump straight into a deal. And we must let Julie see it first. She has to live there too.’

  Joanne’s face darkened for a moment then cleared.

  ‘She’ll love it too. I’ll take her to see it tomorrow after you’ve gone to work.’

  The following evening Julie, our sixteen-year-old daughter, declared the house to be ‘cool’ and the summerhouse, to my surprise, ‘wicked’.

  She and her mother chattered excitedly through dinner about the house. I had brought some files home from the office, and I stayed up working until late. I slipped quietly into bed, expecting Joanne to be asleep.

  But, as I lay on my back with my eyes closed, I felt the mattress shift, and her fingers gently twisted the hair on my chest.

  ‘See, sweetheart?’ she whispered. ‘I told you Julie would love the house.’

  Her fingers began a slow trip down to my stomach.

  ‘Jo, I’m…’

  Her lips closed over mine and her tongue slithered into my mouth. She took my cock in her hand while she rubbed her breasts across my chest.

  The kiss grew more intense. She sucked my tongue into her hot mouth and moved her hand lower to cup my balls. She squeezed hard.

  I grunted with pain and shock and she lifted her head.

  ‘You’re what, darling?’

  She released my balls and a sharp fingernail touched my anus.

  ‘Are you tired?’

  My body jerked as she slid her finger inside me and began to massage, something she had never done before. My balls ached and my cock stood up like a steel rod. Her lips found my nipples, then her teeth bit down hard, and I gasped in pain.

  Her finger slid out of me. She kissed me again, and I tasted salt on her lips.

  ‘Come on. Quick!’

  Her voice was harshly demanding.

  I grabbed her, rolled her on to her back, and rammed my cock into her. Her cunt was soaking wet and hot and gripped me like a vice as I held my whole length still inside her.

  I lifted myself up and looked down at her face in the faint light. Her eyes were tightly closed, her mouth was open and she wore an expression of pure lust that I had never seen before.

  Sweat dripped off my chin and pooled in the hollow of her neck and I felt the muscles of her vagina working on my cock as I flexed it.

  Her eyes flew open.

  ‘Fuck me! Hard!’

  I began to thrust. Her legs went high around my back and I felt a heel rub down my spine.

  ‘Harder!’

  I slammed into her as hard as I could and was dimly aware of the sound of the bedsprings twanging in rhythm with the headboard thumping against the wall.

  Her body bucked frantically under mine as she thrust up to meet me. As I felt the familiar tingle of my orgasm beginning I looked down into Joanne’s face. Her eyes were still closed and her lips were moving silently as she strained to reach her climax.

  I fought to stay with her as she writhed under me and the orgasm built and built. The sweat was pouring from both of us and, just as I was feeling I could hold it no longer, she spoke. It was a strange gasping voice from deep inside her.

  ‘Yes. Oh, yes. Thank you.’

  Then she shouted: ‘I’m coming! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!’

  Her eyes sprang open and she let out a long wailing cry. I felt myself going over the top and yelled as I exploded inside her. My cock pumped frantically and my muscles tensed as rush after rush of pleasure raced through me. She pulled me down on top of her and we lay together, blissfully sticky. The only sound was our heavy breathing. I slid out of her and rolled on to my back.

  Her lips touched mine. ‘I’m so looking forward to our new house, aren’t you?’ she whispered as I fell into a deep sleep.

  Julie grinned impishly at me at breakfast. ‘Sleep well last night, Dad?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. Why?’

  ‘Oh, I thought I heard you and mum talking, quite late.’

  ‘Drink your juice. You’ll be late for school.’

  Buying the house became an obsession with
Joanne. My natural caution told me to hold back, to consider other properties, but in truth it was ideal for our needs, with a big garden and Julie’s new school close by. Joanne had a strong ally in our daughter and between the two of them I had little chance.

  On top of that, the whole business seemed to have affected my wife’s libido. Joanne had always had a healthy appetite for sex, but now she was urging me to do some of the things we’d done in the early years before our marriage – and some we’d only ever talked about.

  A week after the blowjob incident, the agent rang to say the seller was prepared to drop the price of the house by five per cent for a quick sale.

  With no real reason to refuse I agreed, and the contracts were exchanged that afternoon. We went out to dinner to celebrate. On the way home, Joanne had me drive to the spot where we used to make out as teenagers. In those days it had been a deserted spot by the river with long grass and bushes. Now it was a manicured riverbank, overlooked by a couple of high-rise apartment buildings. I stopped the car.

  ‘Dare you,’ she whispered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I put a blanket in the trunk.’

  ‘Oh, no. No way.’

  She shifted closer to me, her lips pouting. ‘This is the first place we did it.’

  ‘It was a lot more private then. And we were a lot younger.’ Her hand wriggled inside my pants. ‘No, Joanne. No, no, no!’

  I’d forgotten how good fucking in the open air could be. I don’t know if anyone was watching and, by the time I’d taken her panties off, I didn’t care. We screwed like a couple of high school kids, still half dressed, squealing and groaning.

  Joanne was quiet on the way home, deep in thought. ‘Penny for them,’ I said.

  ‘Just savouring the memories, sweetheart.’

  We moved into the house about two weeks later. The interior of the house and the garden needed a lot of attention and this, together with an increased workload at the office, meant my life was hectic. Joanne’s libido subsided after we moved in, and I was rather thankful that our sex life had returned to normal. It was a while before I got around to paying any attention to the summerhouse. Julie had taken it upon herself to put a couple of chairs and an old settee inside, and she spent quite a lot of time there. Our daughter was growing up to be a very attractive young lady, and there was a persistent stream of boys vying for her affections.

  The first time I decided to take a good look at the summerhouse I almost walked in on Julie and her latest admirer stretched out on the settee, their lips glued together and their hands exploring slowly. In bed that night I told Joanne and she laughed. ‘What were you like at sixteen?’

  ‘Yes, but what if…?’

  ‘Rob, why don’t you concentrate on where to put yourhands …That’s it …Just there. And there…’

  Summer turned to fall, and red and gold leaves fell from the trees. The garden began to look bare and the summerhouse stood out, stark and ugly. I finally brought up the subject of knocking it down. We were sitting on the patio after lunch, on one of those warm golden days that late October sometimes brings. The reaction was quick and very definite. ‘Oh, no, Dad.’ Julie looked devastated. ‘I love the summerhouse, and Rebecca…’

  She stopped abruptly at the look on her mother’s face, and dropped her eyes to the tabletop. Joanne’s face was white and her eyes were brilliant. ‘Who’s Rebecca, Julie?’ Her voice was harsh.

  ‘She’s a school friend. She comes over sometimes. I don’t think you’ve met her. She likes the summerhouse.’ The words came out as if rehearsed. There was a long silence.

  ‘Off you go, Julie. I want to talk to your mother.’

  Julie stood, seemed about to say something, and then stalked away towards the summerhouse.

  ‘What’s going on, Jo? Who is Rebecca?’

  Her face was pale, and she sat silent for a long time. When she spoke her voice was low. ‘I’m not sure.’ I opened my mouth to speak and she held up a hand to stop me. ‘The name, Rob. It made me remember. I think…’ Her voice tailed off.

  I made my voice gentle. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think she’s old and I think she’s evil. And I think she was inside me!’ The words rushed out, ending in a shout, and she burst into tears.

  Slowly I coaxed it out of her. ‘That first time in the summerhouse. When I came. It wasn’t me, it was her. It was for her. And, when I sucked you in the car, she wanted to remember what it was like. She got inside me. All the crazy sex we’ve had, she wanted. To remember. Whatever she is, somehow she got inside me.’

  The tears rolled down her cheeks and I stroked her hair. ‘It’s OK, baby. You’ve been fine since we moved here.’

  ‘Yes, Rob, I have. But don’t you see? She’s here. In the summerhouse!’

  I strode toward the summerhouse and was about to call out when I heard Julie’s voice. ‘My dad was going to knock your house down,’ she said. ‘But it’s all right, I won’t let him.’

  She was sitting on the small veranda, and she jumped when she saw me. ‘Who were you talking to?’

  ‘No one, Dad. I was practising some lines for the school play.’ I looked hard at her and her brilliant blue eyes met my gaze without flinching.

  ‘OK,’ I said, exasperated. ‘Go on indoors.’ As I watched her walking to the house there was a whisper of sound inside the summerhouse. I turned and opened the door. A small piece of bright red ribbon fluttered to the floor. Hesitantly, I stepped inside and picked it up. I ran it through my fingers, put it in my pocket and went into the house.

  I told Joanne what had happened. ‘… and then I saw this ribbon,’ I concluded, putting my hand in my pocket. The ribbon wasn’t there.

  We talked late into the night, trying to make sense of it all. Joanne was adamant that the summerhouse had to go. ‘It’s evil, Rob. Get it knocked down.’

  ‘OK. I’ll do it at the weekend.’

  I told Julie what I intended to do the next morning, before I left for work. I expected tantrums but she simply stared wordlessly at me, then turned and walked into her room, closing the door softly behind her.

  I arrived home late, just in time to see her getting into a car containing a gang of youngsters, which swept away with the sounds of loud music.

  ‘She’s gone to a party,’ Joanne said. ‘It’s October 31st.’ I stared blankly at her. ‘Halloween, dumbo. Trick or treat. Remember?’

  The events of the last few days had left Halloween the furthest thing from my mind.

  ‘A party? Will she be OK? Who with? What’s her curfew?’

  Joanne burst out laughing. ‘God, you sound just like my father used to.’

  ‘But Jo, that boy the other day was practically undressing her. I think you’d better talk to her.’

  ‘Rob, she’s been on the pill for the last twelve months. She’s very capable of looking after herself. And she’ll be home by midnight.’

  I gaped at her. ‘On the pill? You mean she’s not…’

  ‘A virgin? She hasn’t told me, but I very much doubt it. You can ask her if you like.’

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  The car pulled up outside at 11.45, doors opened and then closed again, softly. Joanne chuckled. ‘Saying goodnight in the back seat, I fancy.’

  It was ten minutes after midnight before Julie came in. Joanne smiled at her. ‘Good party, sweetheart?’

  ‘Fabulous, Mum.’ Her face had a happy, dreamy look, as if she was far away. ‘I’m tired though. I’m going to bed.’

  She kissed us both quickly and disappeared to her bedroom. Joanne held out her hand to me. ‘Come on, bedtime.’ I lay sleepless, my thoughts racing. Joanne put her arm around me. ‘Still worried about your daughter?’

  ‘She’s only sixteen, Jo.’

  ‘So how old were you the first time?’

  Her hand crept down my stomach and my cock began to harden. ‘I’ve told you. Sixteen. But that’s different.’

  ‘Why? I was only seventeen the first t
ime you took my panties off.’ She took my cock in her hand and stroked it. ‘Come on, sweetheart. I want this guy inside me.’ She took my hand and guided it down between her legs. She was hot and wet and she moaned as my fingers tickled her clit. ‘See how much I want you?’

  We made love slowly, losing control only at the end, and came together in a sudden, blissful rush.

  I woke from a nightmare of smoke and flames and lay still, watching the red light flickering on the walls of the room until I suddenly realised it was no longer a dream. I leapt to the window and ripped the curtains aside. The summerhouse was a mass of flames. I shook Joanne violently, hauled on a pair of jeans and ran to the door.

  ‘Find Julie!’

  I tore downstairs, out of the kitchen door. The heat hit me before I had gone more than a few yards. Flames were exploding from the hut and sparks showered into the air. I turned, ran back into the house and grabbed the phone as Joanne screamed from the landing, ‘Rob! She’s not here!’

  I rushed back outside to see the whole structure cave in with a huge bang. Flames shot heavenward and the garden became a glare of orange light. As my eyes refocused, I saw a shimmering light and watched a small figure emerge from the inferno and skip away across the garden – a little girl with long black hair tied with a bright red ribbon.

  There was an enquiry of course, but it revealed little. All that was left of Julie were teeth and some bone fragments in the ashes – enough for a DNA test.

  I never told Joanne what I saw that night. We separated a year later and divorced a year after that.

  The whisky helps.

  Enter the Rainmaker

  by Landon Dixon

  He arrived in town on May 2, 1932. Rugby, North Dakota. Tall and lean, with curly black hair, twinkling brown eyes and a gregarious manner. His name was Russell Jameson, but he called himself the Rainmaker. And by the end of that summer, so did everybody else in Pierce County.

  “Had maybe two inches of rain all last year. And not a drop so far this year,” the local farm equipment dealer told him.

  Not that Russell had to be told. He had eyes; parched countryside, some of the richest farmland in all of the 48 states, lay hard and cracked and barren in all directions.

  He let his presence become known, chatting up the local businessmen, tipping his hat to the ladies and tousling the hair of their tow-headed children. And in doing so, hebecame aware of a presence – that of a young, blonde woman who set his pulse and his scheming mind to racing.